karmasutra

karmasutra

the word karma defines your destiny,you stagger all the way long accompanying the omen of failures.well for me karma defines something related to a benchmark where i could pull out a comparison,an ecstatic feeling blissful but dreamy.when you fall alone like me you are supposed to write in like what i am doing now,may be i am wasting your precious 5 min,may be a boredom but if u know what i mean

karma states the aftermath of your action,your decisions,your mistakes and moreover there is a gap between the edges of the life.karma is devoid of belief it strictly judges you according to your instincts or the way u do things.narrating my own Hippocratic story a decision i made resulted in a life where i could find only a room a computer and couple of friends whom i meet daily but hardly had a great time with them.may be after reading my blog you will fell this guy is always crying and craving for what he doesnt get.

but i can tell you that crying doesnt make u weak since birth you were crying and it was the only sign that u were alive.karma is a mistake,because of which you are supposed to repent later.once such mistake was i left delhi,its been 3 years i m missing that place hard.well its told that u must not crave abt what u dont get but happy with what have got.. 


and now am confused




....to be continued 

fraandship

after a long time,i started blogging as i have told my friend,somethings are better left unsaid but these things are better said on a blog rather speaking within yourself,with a sigh of relief i write this..my college life is going to end in an year and i am feeling empty at certain times when really things are empty you may not understand the gravity of the statement i express.,days are passing and like i said and always say that people are like seasons indeed they are sometimes.with many friends i came from delhi 3 years back and now see i am just blogging like this sitting in front of a suitcase like thing morning to evening and watching my distant friends posting stuff in facebook and regardless thoughts of whats happening in my life,growing fat and flabby..wait wait..i am going long with this thing..please read if u have enough  time from ur busy-ness and this time i am writing simple english unlike everytime i make a booze out of my posts writing big english phrases,ultimately people say "what do u think u are?? Shakespeare??!!!".

well my life in 3 years has been limited to some social networking sites and few places where i could go and click some photos which hardly anybody notices no matter how the work is?may be i should have been a hot chic who gets 1000+likes or appreciation for posting a smiley as status update,well world has shaped itself into a feminist society,reforming the ethics according to social network.Friends are now only in facebook,i miss the life time i spent in delhi and my old friends who were the backbone,who strengthened me and gave me a hand when i fall into a situation..but the whole scene has changed, i found a hand full of people,with whom i fought,made arguments,cracked dirty jokes and the list goes on....hardships and life,they were there but still the essence was missing in the funside.we shared many things the daily life to the most eventual things that was food for a thought.the 3 musketeers who were never called so,names undisclosed but were called 'the stalwarts' by the honorary head of the department.there was always a sense of  competitive tendencies that reflected within us.the long one who said "i dono anything" was actually the one who ousted us,the 2nd one who always kept counting the 3 mistakes of his life..an attempt of an  unsuccessful relation,dilemma and frustration.i was not the same,like others i did many dumb things as i always did since the school days,screwed since the stone age.my methodologies were different from others.we 3 were different from the population out there,think different,did different and many things that you wont understand,one such thing i always liked we did was the association we formed in our dept. which was indeed a good act,but some people revolted.yah!there were always people who opposed us,"resistance to change"..


i was worried when i saw my friends who scored well,then i found that the system is screwed .3 of us always used to buzz around with this quite worried about the things around.we always talked about things after 10 years,but the wiser amongst said"i don give a f**k" indeed it did.i always felt that i did a big mistake leaving Delhi,it was but i used to live the change.during the initial year of my college life i used to be with couple of strangers whom i used to watch closely what they said and did.felt like an alien.it took time to find the correct crows i could fit in.3 of us always complained things,we always complained that we are stuck within this place where no man could hav ever landed on his b***s.well there was always a brighter side for everything..may be the fact that my life changed after the 2nd year because some special people entered my life..i forgot the world till then.but its well said that "ur school friends will always be ur best friends"may be some angle of perception.i don want to talk about how and what we did,rather i want to convey how things changed after sometime when u change places and people..like a running stream of clouds and sun setting/rising everyday counting my days back Delhi and more when i would remember these 3 musketeers who we are,an year left and still in the veil of silence.there are things left to be done,things we haven seen and things which we are keen about.i dono why i wrote this but felt so,,will post more c**p soon on this blog..signing off your very truly lovingly faithfully respectfully:-madhav..

the preposterous intentions

The cataract that was hidden behind the eyes of  illumination,as a living being that would completely sit splendid in front of the mirror admiring the peace of beauty.i figured out that the most things criticized on earth never held a record of failure.its always true that people only dis-figure things which they find that its worth it.

you must be fed up of hearing those ugly comments that never minded your brain,the notation called "mallu" which was a disaster.i have seen many people who never knew the difference,the races seemed to culpable genocide.it must end someday,may be the whole system was screwed beyond the limits.

those glory days in delhi:school days was always an important part of the life i lived and living so far.the crates of love that was stacked in a single corner of the memory cells.the bond that we shared was awesome(even though i still feel,i could be with them once more).the one big thing that ever mattered was being called "madrasi" even though people couldn differentiate between madrasi and mallu.well some people felt mallus are some ugly creatures who took a coconut bath everyday stink like shit and sit beside with a smiling face with a mind blowing accent "are kaiza haii?"with people usually laughing at those things.well unlike racism is an ugly imbecile.i was figuring out apart from mallus there existed many other types of species like "chinky's","biharis" and not the least ones called "bengalis(pronounced bengolis)" and many more distinct elements of the propaganda.well more than a mallu or madrasi :the bihari had a sharp pinch,when being called so.mallus refered to be shreks and fionas.

the north indian wind usually swept in this pace where rascism existed.i wont say everyone did the same but ya there are countables accounting to the cause ,may be the narrow mindset was ridiculous."madrasi' was a tagline usually given to those people who were saree clad,with a forehead full of drawings and a killer accent.never mind because people only differentiated on the basis of language but they could never figure out that there are people of different religions,different castes of the same language.well thats a negligible matter because people made things out of it only the basis of "language processing" usually did.for those people born and brought up in the metropolitas of delhi they even spoke well,such that it took time for people to discriminate as mallus or madrasis.

i would like to say a madrasi belonged to tamil nadu and mallu is a keralite,where half of the delhiites never figured it out.but mallus were always proud of themselves because they were in some reformed and renown parts of the society,from delhi metro's E.Sreedharan(the man who made the footwork easy in delhi),A.R.Rahman and even John Abraham. the list is endless.i still quote the fact that people only criticize those things that are meant to be.

i had a personal experience,while on a train journey i saw people fighting over racism.it happened when a north indian guy scolded a south indian guy for not giving him a berth to sit.the north indian guy shouted"now since the train has entered the so called south,you guys will rule".i dono why people couldn see from the view point of an indian rather some bloody racist names.its certainly torturing a person,stripping him beyond his agony.

the south indian cuisine was quite famous in delhi,with large number of punjabis and gujaratis attracted towards the asaefoetida smell in sambar,.the dosa or the indian pan cake,idlis,upma and vadas.later came the malabari dishes from kerala,chicken chettinad to all other irresistible delicacies.with south indian food taking all over the delhi food circles.although the racism was effective,but since then the harmony progressed in the middle.Shops,living styles and  food all got imported straight from the south,even though racism still prevailed but people liked the culture we lived in.i would rather say"have some brain,never differentiate between people's races,races are not the identity,its all about being an indian(unlike phirangis,oh shit!i guess i have to write another blog someday to explain about it)".anyway its true racism still exist between communities: stop making fun of accents and languages by saying "ingada pongada" and "crack bloody rajini jokes on south indians".if so then sardars would have become predators by now.well army was one place where unity in diversity persisted.but never mind thats another section of the society.

we must be proud to have such a diversity rather making fun of it,proud to be an indian not some other ugly named creature

morale:dont call mallu as madrasi or madrasi as mallu

Bloody hell i am hit..!!

A day that was a blunder i created with myself but no regrets. It was captivating, melancholy, a ride to the center of the earth.i wish it rained the time it happened. The wrath of pain and unending silence that shed the laughter for a moment. The whole scene was paused for about an hour. The smile turned out into a frown, a pale one yet bright 

  

26th September 2011,a memorable day of my life. I wish that day never happened but later i felt it was a life changing experience..vrroooooooom..!!!i call it "the life eating fun ride".Munnar,a beautiful place with nature's play ,visible at its best and yet another time "a date with beauty and agony of Kerala’s most blessed place"

a task that was the aim of the look up. But like an attraction towards size zero, we were blindly in love with the natures super sexy curves and turns(i mean the road to hell).it all started with a plan that became a liability later we were intended to do so, an intention to capture those beautiful places. To be remembered forever. If we weren't in heaven now.

the journey started with me and my super hunk friend who is beyond the limit of the shirt he wears, with his 12 packs fudging out and saying "kiss me”. A ride that started peacefully, willing to be stopped any moment we wished. This time it was my vroom!!,We took. Before we left, a heart of intuitions left us in dilemma. A question of fate left us in trouble “should we?”.naaaaa!as u know love is blind as far as i have heard and seen (some people prove it).we never mind what happened ,it was how would it happen. The rejoicing began, quite excited if we could capture those moments forever. And yeah we did make it to all those places we could, with some places which left us mouth-open. some place left tears  in eyes(his eyes, not mine).felt like heaven,blah!it was,certainly.after completing the task we were in a hurry to get back to our nests, since we were roaming around like birds. The laughter and happiness that we shared was gonna suck up when we reached  the “suicide point” a board saying that this holy shit was about 1780 feet above sea level.fish!i was wondering why we didn’t read it during the climb, may be were too busy watching the piece of  beauty around. I loved the place, it had waterfalls,forests,hill-tops,lakes and dams.

I call it the second heaven on earth even though Kashmir can kick it’s a**.

The climate soon changed into cool and cozy. I felt we are on some honeymoon imagining myself holding round arm and kissing him while he was driving his butt out of the mess.wtf?i don’t know ,the situation slowly turned romantic with his dirty smile that signed towards disaster. He was looking as we were lost in the forest, it seemed the fox was going to rape the cow.

The first sign was when we drove into the tea plantation ,luckily stopped by the fencing that was neatly done(as if people frequently met through those type of incidents earlier),don’t blame them, it was hair pin curves, legitimate ends and a judging ride. The climb was peaceful, fun and frolic but the fall was frigging crazy. We maintained the speed at a low pace with Mr. Muscles(who was insisted to wear the helmet)he was a crazy but an expert rider with so much of accidents and bike tragedies. And every time we ask him he would say its how we learnt to drive. If so then people opting for license will happily go under a bus and half of the population would have been ended by now.

“as expected it happened-a hair pin curve, a bloody santro car  coming from the wrong side another car to add fuel to the fire which was on the right side ,hell it happened with a blink of an eye, we fell ridiculously thrown 5m away from the 1700 feet deep runway to hell. All I cud remember is Mr. Muscles rolling in the deep and I was thrashed licking the surface. When it was over, I tried to get up, with  happiness that I could save my spine and head, but my left hand, when tried to be lifted was in vain, I couldn feel the pain that was killing ,I could see my bones broken inside and more over the feeling was inexpressible. Some people rushed in,mr.muscles fell every time he tried to wake up, I thought he was in comma or something, he asked “man are u ok?”

I said ya I am completely fine, as if I was some superman who didn’t die even if he was hit by a rock.Mr.muscle became desperate; he called off a war with a wounded soldier who was figuring how to join his hand back into place. He demanded a chase, I was wondering why movies ended like this with the hero who is about to die could easily kill 1000 people more, burn cars, fly helicopters and even beat the shit out of people then after all this crap the hero would die. For a moment it felt like a movie.”

People rushed in took us to the hospital, a place patients where frequently admitted.it was reported a bone breakage and demanding an urgent surgery. Apart from all this shit that happened the bike was the prime agenda, we didn’t steal it or something but the guilt was over-reacting in our nerves.

Taken back home safely, I had a surgery with few complications that stood questioning my recovery,mr.muscles underwent a crack in his ankle bone which left him “Michael Jackson 2” his moonwalk classes became famous, as it seemed so original.my hand became a chicken leg, took so much time to straighten up but still on the verge of complete recovery.

Thanks to all the people who loved and cared me, for those people who met every time, helped me out in distress

Morale: don’t drive in romantic places, it can make u go wild and break your bones

emotional atyachaar

Heartbreaks never inspired a person,but some frequent ones threw a piece of hope for him.still he didn't leave the urge to feel pleasure in pain.he was not that big in size but big by his heart and deeds.she always painted his nose green when he leaned forward.like a mad lover or a flop novel ,he was having setbacks panted every time he recovered.Like a lonely man totally screwed up and searching for a ray of light to reach back from where he started  and rewind all that happened.a flesh-back rather a flash-back.may be she thinks she is beautiful but for him she was beautiful and serene.he was there behind her every time,she was stuck in his mind like a bee-sting.it swelled and pained.and left marks on his heart.may be he was wondering from the first day he met her in school she pleased him,but he was mad at her.i dono seriously for what she impressed him,but there is always a reason why u choose a special person.a special person is always different from others.some traits turn out to be a quality for them.how long i knew him,he was adamant,a man with emotional paradise and sorry to tell you a dog trying to get a bite on the bone.i am confused to tell that whether it was a two sided "p.s i love you" or Dan Brown's 'angels and demons'.He was a man with no flesh in his brain.Devoid of his emotions but never gave up.
well he was a mad lover,one of his kind.he always kept running behind till he didnt burn his butts.she never told him she presumed to do so.he was her best friend but not the thing he wanted from her.i mean "love".he proved it pure and un-filthy,but she kept him like a 'chicken in the freezer,waiting for microwave to fry it".

i still find him depressed,a killjoy of himself and a man who put himself in a guillotine and chopping his fingers one by one.he is poisoned by her love which is refused.A society and family because of which he didnt get her.he never gave up.2 goddamn years,happiness was just a veil to his sorrows.portrayed him as the best man on the earth but whenever he looked himself he was the 'jackass".we pulled him back every time he jumped into the sea ,drowned.but as a suicido he refused to catch the tube.drenched in the pain of non-acceptance.i couldn't figure out the fact if she loved him.,but a hope is all that he had and that hope was not fruitful.he never cried and we will not let him to do so.
i found his love made him pale.A cancer to his heart and soul.he never tried to remove it,guess he wanted to die with it.i don't know why he never gave up.a stubborn fatal male playing a dirty game with emotions.he was sitting on a heap of complications and impasse.

the story is quite simple and old,its all that he narrated.a chemistry lab,sulphuric acid and a burnt cloth.school days were superb for him before but when he met her,things changed.He communicated with her thro a distant approach of people.well,i have to say it was not a love at first sight but yet a storm was to be lifted soon.as days passed by they had casual meetings,some talks that wondered him a lot.After a couple of days he drank the love potion.the story is somewhat accusing that she was in a relationship before,but our hero never gave back.she started hating the wonderful feeling of love because an asshole ruined her life,left her to decay.She was shattered,lost trust and faith in people.the world must have ended for her but she came back as a bold brave heart.Hero tried and tried but couldnt succeed because of another person who made his way to love contract and thorny.

November 13th,Night,3 years before was unforgettable for him.i dont find a particular reason for what made him choose her,may be destiny or a kind heart.He was a crazy lover one of a kind and one of the many.He drew sketches and collected every possible artifact she left for his memories.He kept them inside a clean box called 'remembrance'.

He used to attend the classes even if he had dysentery.A glance of her each day made him happy and gay.He never had the guts to say this.May be he was afraid loosing her.As an opportunist he waited for a time to hangout with her,but never got to do so. disappointing and disheartened,its certainly not a love story but its a tale of man who never gave up ,a girl who was confused of her obsessions,setbacks that threw her apart and people who said that its craziness.

i still find him at another point of life where he thinks,it was not merciful but yet a challenge.he always made things simple with her and she refused.a one sided drama is that all anybody can find and anybody could hear about.i dono whether i expressed things rite but some extracts of life from a musketeer who fought till his blade died.

" a disgruntled soul,shattered but confused to come back,thinking about her and wasting his life,but solidarity of love is inevitable and worth a tale to be told'

                          morale:                   never give up,coz giving up is easy than getting it

abstract: dark theory

darkness,we call it fear and some call it haunted.people wear dark more to look good.?a question is why?may be they hide themselves behind the veil of dark memories and show themselves fair enough to be in this life or fair enough to look beautiful.
summoned to hear the verdict.i am wandering in search of an answer why.\ife sucks? i know but sometimes it turns out to be wonderful  but killjoy.a word that was never taken back and sometimes i believe i am sure i can do that but think twice before.people wear more dark clothes to make them fairer,its not stupid science theory that dark colours absorb heat or dark is formed by 7 colors.its that the more dark u wear the more fair u look coz darkness is the widget that covers all the defects,memories and pain.when you wear dark clothes the whole attention is diverted into it.applauding about the fear of darkness,but people dont know what lies underneath.why is every bad gesture termed black.eventhough black is the shadow in which everything happens from ghosts to non-believers believe so.without darkness there couldn't be a light and without black there wouldnt be a darkness.i am not telling you to start wearing dark clothes or boycott white.its all about making you understand about what balck is all about
fear no black because many things are wonderful inside it,discover it,live it because sometimes darkness can shed your grief and re-incarnate you in a Juvenal soul

gravity beneath the dreams

i dreamed a lot to aspire and conquer my intentions and then saw the cream slowly melting beneath..dead as a writer,content as a student,effortlessness of  a percussionist,a bold photographer yet incapable,disheartened as a sportsman and left far the roads of yellow and shady trees that smelt like snow.dreams are endless.building my own empire of grace leaving an impression ,the truth and the compassionate,like the hollow coconut tree in drought.like pale paddy fields and a farmer cursing the rain for killing the crops.i have no complaints of what my life has hatched into,may be a boiled beautiful egg or a chicken.it feeds life anyway.apart from the philosophical melodrama in crimson i made.defying the truth aint fair but i believe in living a surreal and twisted life.the dreams make an effort or may be a force which inculcates the urge to live and love the life.god is not a cruel supernatural to punish you for deeds.after all dreams can be a calculated agreement between you and god.
the gravity within me defined within its own grace and benefits.i was passionate and compassionate towards the way i lead the things.i know sometimes outcomes are not as worthy as i thought and may be i could slip about and say"look i have been betrayed".i have made my equations for life trying to prove them every time but as the calculation missed every-time the proof went recursive.bragging that i am the one makes me feel i am some kind of human who can speak more act less.so i didn't applaud on my own way,i kept silent ,rather proving myself to be a novice felt much better.the tolerance was exceptional.i started to make my own way to my dreams rather than peeking into someones.i waited for an opportunity to advance and managed to get through.under the limelight i saw my face on the waters,blushed to see the way the progress happened.mutated by the quality of change sometimes disappointing sometimes content..i am happy how life has taken me and sometimes i curse it for not giving me the outcomes.some of them left halfway...i would like to walk from the path undone and comeback to the end...