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Friday, May 25, 2012

Getting Action in the City.

Fuck knows what I was bottling.
But after over 8 hours of comedy series and middle aged sex dramas later, I just couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to run away. So I did.
Wearing my favorite blue shorts, socks and sandals (I was too claustrophobic for shoes), at about quarter to 12 I set out. Just me, myself, and I alone on the streets running endlessly, taking my shirt off at some point of time in the spirit of freedom (And exhibitionism).
The picture smashed as soon as I got outside the building. Shops were open, people still buying groceries on the way back from work, traffic jam on the cross section, I was in fucking Mumbai! 
I started running. About a kilometer later, just as the noise seemed to mute and I began to block the outside world, I bumped into my gym instructor. Bugger.
‘Oh! Evening walk… How come?!’
It’s fucking midnight you idiot. AND I AM RUNNING.
So I ran faster. It’s hard to think when you don’t know what you’re looking for. I mean as if finding answers weren’t tedious enough, here you have got to look for the questions first. And where do you look when everywhere you look there are vehicles and buildings and robots.
I hated Goregaon in that moment.
Two flyovers crossed, I was at the far end of Malad along the western express highway, pretty impressed with my self and stamina. It felt sexy so at the beginning of the third flyover the shirt came off. It just had to.
I made my first pit stop at a lone bench on the side of the road. It smelt dead rat and there were mosquitoes the size of flies. But I kept sitting. I felt like punishing myself. And it made sense.
About half an hour on the bench numb to stench and pain I got up to run again.
And as I did I saw four short figures pacing towards me.
Yes, the dogs had picked up on my mind and they didn’t want me in their world.  
Now, I have a strange thing with dogs, whether pets or strays. I can only talk to them in English. Don’t know why, don’t know since when, it just is.
So I stopped jogging, folded my hands (I have a fear they will bite my fingers off) and I did what I usually do when dogs bark at me.
‘Ish okays boys, I am no terrorist, I promise. Ish okay’
Has worked on the most uncouth of canines but these bastards meant harm! I could just tell.
So I quit the dialogue and sprinted. Which was a bad idea because firstly I was tired, and second, I ran Into their territory.
This is as close as I have gotten to running for life (The other time it was for a flight to Mumbai which I almost missed because I got too involved in filming an obscenely snoring man in the waiting area.)
It felt good. And came very close to what I needed at the moment. Stimulation. Some bare, primal hard core stimulation! To get me alive. Get me living.
You know sometimes some movie scenes flash in your head and they are totally in sync with what’s going on at the time.
Edward Norton’s bloody face after his first fight in the Fight Club.
I was going to get myself beaten up.
Below the face sans the crotch. (I have my entrance for Acting school in 5 days)  
So I couldn’t pick a fight, it had to be a job for somebody. Besides, I just like the sound of paying someone to beat you up. And I had 200 bucks in my pocket. Good stuff.
Must have been around 1 so the roads were easy now, very few people barring the road side shanties which occurred at intervals.
A few blokes passed by but I just couldn’t ask anybody. Fuck up their psyche. I am all for messing with myself, and myself only. Apart from the one time during school when me and my friend got into this habit of beating up this one guy in our tuition on daily basis. (Confession)
 Kandivali went by and under the flyover from where I could see Cinemax, on the sidewalk I found my first candidate,
A homeless middle aged man, alone without any family taking a swig of country liquor and prepping his rag up for bed time.
‘Aapko paisa chahiye? 100 Rupaye?’
Him: Tabiyat kharaab hai aur dawai ke liye paise nahi hai’
‘Haan toh mein doonga aapko 100 rupaye. Bas yahi side mein chalke mujhe thoda maaro’
Him: Tabiyat kharaab hai aur dawai ke liye paise nahi hai’
Fucker couldn’t get over his begging script only!

‘Haan toh mein doonga na paise. Muhje thoda peeto. Box. Box.’ He understood. I expected him to be shocked or at least cautious. But he simply replied,
Him: ‘Tabiyat kharaab hai warna koi baat nahi thi’
I burst out laughing.
‘Acha! Warnaa maarte? Koi baat hi nahi thi?’
Him: ‘Haan! Koi baat nahi thi’
I walked away laughing.
I considered Autowallahs. Anyways they must be packing so much contempt against the public.
But they always stood in groups. And you see, there’s no way anyone would agree for a thing like this in front of others. Collectives are most of the times socially correct even if individuals aren’t.
So I kept walking. I put the shirt back on to avoid canine attention. A few did follow and bark but the ‘Ish okay boy…’ calmed them down.
I was nearing the Borivali National Park when I saw it.
The demon of my dreams. A beautiful place which could be the possible venue of my salvation. Haven. Haven. Haven.
The unlit Subway stared at me greedily. Now normally I wouldn’t think of descending a dark subway post midnight, but there was nothing normal about what I was up to tonight.
So I did. The descend downstairs was dark but as soon as I got down, there was a dimly lit tunnel to my left. I can’t describe how perfect it was, and I how beautiful I looked as I imagined myself being kicked and punched against its half tiled wall.
There was a almost cinematic quality about the place. I mean here, I could get beaten to death, and howl my lungs out and no one above could hear me. Plus the echo of the thudding kicks and grunts. Also, I could pass out from the pain and I won’t be disturbed until morning. Not to forget, the lighting! So precise, dark enough to not expose me completely but enough for me to see my own wounds, Uff!
I climbed up from the other side drooling and dreamy. There’s no way I was going back home untouched tonight.
But now no random person would do! I needed somebody with the presence to match that of my tunnel. I passed a few more autos to realize they weren’t empty, but couple occupied. Wow!
2 o clock in the fucking night when I am feeling so dangerous and nocturnal, people are on with their lovely duties.
I decided to go back to my tunnel and man it just in case one of these hornheads decided to get more room and invade my holy space. But there was a reason that tunnel was empty.
When I went back there was a police bike parked right beside the entrance. Yes, the police knew about the possibilities of such places and they kept watch. Even at 2 am. Especially at 2 am.
I walked past giving them a stink eye trying my luck. They didn’t stop me. It’s the shorts. Too blue to caution anyone.
A bus stopped near me and I hopped in heartbroken. The dog chase was as close as I was going to get to any action tonight.  

PS: This shit is addictive. Anybody need a punching bag? (Below the face sans the crotch, of course!)  




Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Making Vinay's Birthday Cake!

Step 1: Do as Betty Crocker says. Then to show some extra love (And Smartness), churn some coffee cookies and add the powder to the batter!
Step 2: Wait until you... (Turns out there is no avoiding this step) Burn the Cake. And hope your neighbors don't call on the fire brigade because of all the smoke.
For people who's Mums have not banned them from touching the microwave for anything other than re-heating, you'll can try using the oven. But if youre as pathetic as I am at cooking, my advice is DONT!
Step 3: Realize that your cake is burnt, and once again to show some love (And make the cake look good in pictures) add a slice of Mango cut obscurely hinting at your art interests! Then,,, Take a picture. 

  Step 4: Make an ass out of yourself by making a blog post on it and also credit your friend Arnesh Ghosh on for his phenomenal work on inspiring young people to Cook (Actually edible yummy stuff!) 


           Vinay- *After spitting it out* This is Charcoal with a mango slice which is Also burnt.
           Shouvik- *After spitting it out* This has SO much carbon in it, it can cause death. And if not the                   carbon, the taste will surely kill you.
              Divya- *Without Tasting* This looks like poo.
            Rashmi- *Looking at it*     I was Just going to say the same.