I would live in a white house. The rooms would be painted white inside and white walls would surround me. The windows would be sealed to maintain the interiors clean and white. I would want some walls to be glossy and some walls to be matte. The floor would be white, maybe polished plain white marble with no stains on it. Clean, pure, white. They would all have to be the same white, not off-white or cream, pure white. Everything in the house would be white too. I’d have white carpets below my white couches and tables. The furniture will be elegant and simple, no fancy curves or fancy borders. Simply white. I would want everything to be perfect, the corners of my furniture, the corners where of the walls meet, they should all be perfect. No cracks, no signs of wear, no aging, no hand prints, no odd marks, no dust and no dirt. My backyard would have white shiny plastic trees, and I would have thick white carpets in place of grass. There would be a thoughtfully placed pond with crystal clear water. It would have white leafed white lotuses, and white water lilies floating in it. In my living room I’d place white frames with glossy typographic art printed on matte white paper. My library would have all books with white hard-cover, and stacked neatly, alphabetically organized on my white book-shelf. My bathroom would have soaps, and bathing liquids, and other items in white containers of the same shape and size. The kitchen will have white drawers with clean white utensils. My dinner plates, silverware and napkins will be pure white no fancy prints or silly colors. My bedroom will have a white bed, white work-table, and white posters. There will be a beautiful white guitar, and I will be sitting right beside it wearing my white suit, admiring the beauty.

you know nothing,

your subconscious mind takes you to worlds

not of this earth

not of this organization

but you are growing

and you cant stop it

although you currently don’t want to

you want the cells to multiply

your brothers have taunted you

and your sisters have pinched you

because they are bigger and dumber

you are vaguely confused

you are fuzzy

you are growing and you’re beginning to like it more and more

you are now connected to this earth

and have lost all your connections with the other, better known worlds to you

but you don’t care anymore

because you are amazing at forgetting things

but you have not forgotten one thing – the tower

you have been building this one tower with thousands of blocks of plastic

building it by placing one block over another

one block every day

hundreds of blocks a year

you have lost count now

but you are doing it as they told you

placing blocks and tying ribbons around them

the tower is so tall

you can no longer reach the top

now is the time to destroy the tower and build a toy for yourself with the pointy pieces of plastic.

but you have been converted by plants and leaves and chlorophyll

you have no other urge but to continue building this tower

its cracking

you can see it

the blocks at its base which you placed when you were enjoying colors

is now cracking

hear it

its rattling and gravity always hated you

but you are still tying ribbons – colored white and brown

you are also using plastic tapes now

but strangely, you still don’t know why you are building this

its not the greatest thing ever

everyone has their own,

why do you think anyone’s going to look at yours?

She tells me a lot of things. she showed me how to draw teeth. 
and she brought me a cat. i love to play with him.
He has small whiskers, and if i touch them he starts sneezing, or sometime falls asleep.

most of the time, i like to sit in my room with colors and paper.
I can draw many animals now.
Soon, I will learn to paint, and then i can make paintings of farms, sunrise and old huts.

It’s six already! he’ll probably come and  pick me up now.
I can’t wait to eat purple candy when I get back home. 
buh-bye now. 

 it’s got nothing to do with this, but its an impressive alternative to this monotonous rambling.

now back to my story: well, it’s odd that no matter how hard i try to get back in shape, something always tries to bite me in the back. The last time i went to work out, i went to a million dollar recreation center, and i almost died. literally. (like this) i thought i saw satan in his black suit, seated in his stretch limo with horny girls all around him and a fine bottle of some expensive champagne. anyways. that was the highlight of my attempt one.the second attempt, happened today: after a few hours of constantly reading articles on warm up stretches and jogging tips (well, i read at least four articles, from funny ones to scary ones), i packed my ass off the computer chair and hit the streets. yes, this time i chose the moon-lit misty streets for a small jog. all went extremely well.. umm.. for the first few minutes. i got into my brand new shoes that still smell of the factory they were made, and locked my apartment and set out. the first 100 yards or so were great. i felt the cool wind in my hair, and those 5$ wal-mart shorts felt super. but after a while i heard small footsteps behind me. i simply ignored them for a bit. it kept getting louder, and now i could hear a faint pant mixed with those skipy steps. it was dark and i was not prepared for encounters with aliens today.. i was about to crap my pants. but i was brave. i smartly looked at the shadow the creature behind me cast on the road, and.. holy crap! a dog was chasing me! “what the hell is thaaat!?”, yep! it was a dog. after all these years of calling myself as creative as a dog poop, i was now being chased by the real member of the “utter dogshit” clan. I knew this would happen someday, but not this soon. i had just read this article and it was now happening to me! I could see pictures in my head – myself sitting beside a sadistic doctor impatiently waiting to shoot 5 needles right down my belly in the name of rabies vaccine. crap! satan in part one was way better. but then, there was this one chinese girl to my rescue. “Choco” she yelled. “Choco, no Choco”. That’s when i realized that i had a fine story for my blog. I cut the jog short and head back to my macbook. hmm.. now here i am, lazing on the computer chair with million-calorie-chocolate-cakesters. i’m doomed. RIP.ps: for curious people — that dog looks like this.

There’s a cool breeze blowing in from the west. It brings along with it the heavy blue clouds and the smells, flavors of food and fine women from afar. The piece of cloth on my body flies in the wind. I am in pure bliss. My feet are well above land. And I feel the cold air even beneath my feet. It’s not love, not hate, just the way things seem now. Fine as a masterpiece He paints. It’s becoming me. And I am a part of this now…

brown rust deposited on the stove is hissing as it cools
water dripping from the silver tap forms a certain 9/8 rhythm
there’s music is in the air. it’s deafening

the fourth guinea pig is being mutilated in an asylum of white rats
his monotonic topics of discussions have been well explored
leaving him with his tongue twisted, and rendered useless
the surrounding is so pale, and it shall remain so for a while
he knows this, but doesn’t change it
not because he can’t, just because it’s already late
too late, like always, even this time, simply too late

his journey so looks like a rainbow to all who visit this farm
but for the creature, it has been just as tasteless as his breakfast
the techniques of heating and mixing is unknown to him
the plate is left empty, cause the others have already had remains of the previous produce

the lazy grasshopper is singing with its noisy voice as usual
the wise ant is moving sugar cubes from place to place pointlessly as usual
this is the new world? or just another faulty remake of the old black n’ white reel
with the same flaws and the same plots
a story that’s predictable, and characters made from striped socks and fingers
the show will go on, as promised. stay and watch as everything melts
one by one. please watch.

The shadow that’s been following you for the past ten minutes appears more darker now. You look at how it distorts your body, as you walk across the street lamps. You extend your hands and see how your shadow interprets your fingers. Skinny and long, like alien hands. You move your fingers as if you were grazing them over a bed of flowers. Imagine the garden. You can almost see it in the darkness ahead. You can almost smell those flowers. Some bright colors, and a million shades of green. You keep on walking. You just can’t stop, even if you wanted you. You just can’t.

Once in a while you turn your head around to look at silent strangers and noisy cars cruising along the street. The headlights from the cars blind you for a second, and the cold winds blowing in your face makes you wanna drop down. Maybe sit down for a while. You are exhausted, and your feet are just about to give up, but you just can’t stop, because you know that your destination is close by. Very close. You plan out things to do as soon as you get there. You make an efficient list of things and chores to do and end this day as soon as you possibly can. You plan to heat up the mashed potato curry you cooked last night, and have it with warm rice. Just the way you like it. Served on precious china, which the elder sibling bought you last month. That blue rimmed dinner plate, and the matching blue cup filled with your favorite brand of orange juice. And then a glass of milk. White, creamy. You love to blow it cold and sip it. It feels nice. So nice.

It’s just a painting, and so it shall be. It never speaks, but says so many things. About itself, its owner and its creator. It’s just a painting, it will never speak. Just look at the thousands of thoughtful strokes and tune your eyes to the million hues. Interesting. Don’t you think? This is a part of the painting. Framed. Beautiful frame.

job – check
get a cute chineese girl’s number – check
pay all debts – check
have great food – check
get in bed with a red head – hmmm…

well, looks like my dream’s coming true. all this while. but the worst part is, the more closer you get to fulfilling your dreams, your dreams keep getting bigger and bigger. it’s like that atomic subdivision or something, where things get done only to half of what remains.. or some crap like that. and that would mean things would never get done completely. right? god… wow! there i go again!

after a while you get sick of these gods and goddesses and their petty stories of conquest. and you tend not to care about what effects they have on your physical existence. i guess am reaching that state now. in a week or two perhaps. and then they’ll all seem the same. on either halves of the globe. they will look alike and stink just as bad. i await. my body tolerates. and tolerates. the mess is unsettling. but.. whatever!

and then you have those micro-prints. with the most important things mentioned in micro-prints, life just keeps getting better AAAAND better! ooh yeah! kick me right up my ass. and enjoy watching me falling face down on a poison ivy bush. fuck ya! ok. back to microprints. in short – it’s probably a tricky way to keep you in vain, until you figure out things on your own and no longer depend on those squares, rectangles and other odd-shaped geometric figures drawn in the most complicated way on an A4 sized paper. to make things a bit easier, they add numbers and alphabet sequences…and ironically, end up complicating things by ten folds. and then, everything goes up in the air, and sweet randomness takes its ugly birth. now it begins to look like a shredded dictionary with all of its pieces stuck up to the wall, and as if someone took a picture of this artwork with a 5$ poloroid camera and photo-copied that with the cheapest printer in some part of southern tribal kolapur, and then gave them away as charity to poor people so that they can help themselves around.

well, that’s easy…right?

I think the day’s coming closer. By the millisecond. And I still can’t feel the damn heat. Is this normal? People around me are melting like soft white plastic and I’m still standing hard like a pointed needle in a hay sack. One little shiny bit in the middle of a lot of flammable substance. I hope not to burn to ashes at the end in a split second on the doomsday. The day when the fire comes from the other end of the glass, from behind it. Through the speakers. The microphones squeak due to magnetic induction and other crap, and if that voice utters the damned ‘R’ word…gulp! I’ll be dead. But let me shove this negative perspective up a whore’s ass for once and look at things with a positive eye. It’s not what I’m used to ‘cos I generally follow a policy of expecting the worst and giving things a shot, ‘cos then you are happy with whatever happens at the end of the day. The sunsets…fine, for good…finer. And that’s my mindset now. The child in me just wants to be happy in any case. He’s not bothered about the existence of moon, or for that matter the meteors and comets. He just doesn’t care for what I get, or what my eyes see. But then he says that I need a pair of glasses now ‘cos I’m terribly short sighted, hmmm…smart kid I’d say.

Chapter 2
Preparation personified

So, he was here. The good old block of wood. With over 58 rings on his core. He knows pretty much all. He’s like one of those colored books of encyclopedias that were printed in the ’50s. The pages look yellow, but the stuff that’s in there hasn’t changed one bit. Most of the time, you under estimate its validity, and then it surprises you how the print on those historic pages are still applicable in “today’s” world. Magic! I tell you. The influential elder takes every footnote in this book damn seriously. I’m yet to take that much interest in encyclopedias, that’s partly because, I’m planning to print my own in a few years now, then I could lay it down in one of those rarely visited libraries and let it yellow over decade. Till the pages become as crisp as wafers. Anyways, the wood seemed pretty good, and it helped keep things afloat, nice and sturdy in a pond nearby. It seemed to know the right directions to float towards everytime. So glad that I’m a chip off this this lovely ship.

i hoped it would rain and cool down the flaming leaves of a 5 year old money plant
kept in a clay pot with warm water and steel nets
they were down, and i saw them lose color
and grow into pale shades of lime-sap. dull. dry.
their shapes lost, with excess moisture and burns.
much like how it was. like them, this day.
thirsty in a way.
crumpled and scratched. like molten bits of glass in a tray,
that had been handled badly and cursed to be brittle.
rapidly cooled. forcibly stretched.
filled with small air pockets and tanks.
it was meant to break and give up its stable form and state.
and the air inside
it never seemed to subside
it wanted to bulge and explore the outside
wouldn’t it love to explode?
but if it would, it would shatter
this thin glass.
strange laws.
physics and chemistry i guess.
but this was me. the glass.

eyes were dry
of constantly staring at inanimate objects
around the dull setting.
back, numb. from sitting on that steel chair
which was bought a few months back
in exchange for a nice cozy wooden one.

i had been trying to hold up some sand in the air.
but winds would blow it free
and set it flying to the west,
to the nearest ocean or a distant desert.
miles away.
waiting eagerly for this new batch of grains to arrive and add to its glory.
sand it was. an important element in the making of thin glass.

how it would change.
from brown dirt that sticks on to you without your intent,
to beauty, transparency and colored light
to be kept and praised
and polished with love and respect.

the bark infested with juicy insects and weed.
a time so rotten i’d say.
but it stood still. and seemed to be that way.
enjoying the company of its healthy parasites.
letting them draw all they want off its own body.
generous. pityful and trustworthy.

those hands were too lazy now
and the effects had started to grow stronger
they could no longer spin. or pinch
they were steady. as if everything had stopped
and as if someone stole the source of its energy
secretly during the middle of the day
without anyone noticing
thus was the day.

but nights.
most of the them were lost,
waiting desperately for a brighter day.
bright. hmmm.. is the sun up yet?
these candles just can’t seem to wait.

1. people will ban me from exposure to daylight. they’ll find my writings too sentimental, or plain mental. docs will declare that my writings cause brain hemorrhage and internal bleeding of the liver due to excessive puking. this will be initiated by you after your son reads this and ends up in an 87 hour coma.

2. wise readers will quote my content and infringe copyright acts. i, inturn being more wiser will sue them for billions of dollars. then they will have their ugly revenge by chopping my ears off and feeding them to stray dogs. this is not that bad, cos i’ll plant new trendy rainbow-colored ears and make a smashing fashion statement with the billions of dollars i sued them for. ha. ha.

3. cute gals who once wished to date me will block me on orkut, gtalk, msn, meebo, skype, irq, icq..er..yahoo. they’ll secretly foster their feelings for me until they lose hopes and become lesbians. a bad thing for men, and a giant foot-straight-in-the-ass for mankind.

4. my clients will consult their psychiatrist, intending to prove that am invalid and try to get away without paying for my designs, xhtml and css.. er.. what!? i will soon be shifted to an asylum after they win the case in the dumb court of law, and i’ll be treated with morphine and other narcotics… hmmm.. on second thoughts.. sweeeeet!

5. my readers on the planet Doggod will be offended as i m insulting their poop. they will reach planet earth in 2060 and wipe out the human race. dogs will take over earth on july 27, 2672 and earth will be renamed to ‘doggodfckedartrulesmyworld-DS782′.

well, it’s quite probable that the above things will happen. but.. wtf! m gonna keep this shit flowing. n you cant do nething about it. at least as of now. read utter dogshit. the rest of you can chew my middle finger with an appointment on tuesdays and fridays between 8am and 8pm. cheers.

i’m done with the waiting. suddenly filled with distinct feelings. one in the west. others er.. in the south? tht’s what it is. a bunch of questions haunting me like a dead bitch’s soul. howling every night. crying for bones. with her tear lit eyes full of vengeance. will i do it? is my head ready for the guillotine? am i wearing a neck tie to save myself? the quest is still flashing its torch. searching for hidden footsteps made by a tiny dinosaur. velociraptor. or a mouse. a ring dragged me to the armchair. disturbed my process. but then pulled me back. into that static picture. where i’ve lived in a fixed posture. more like an installation at a cheap night club. or a fountain piece at the quadrangle. aged and mossed out. still water flows. emitting a foul smell of dead eels. no electricity. just noise. from an incorrectly adjusted tuner. hiss. heard. till 10. there still seems to be no significant levels of exhaustion. oil drops. but the engine miraculously manages to move. rattling. conking every 5.8 meters. pushing the driver to stick himself on a wall. brown bricks. and gray cement. 9 inch nails and one jack hammer. i count the things he’ll need. a desktop activity. with access to the web. 143 done. another 980 to go. engine, keep coughing. one after the other. and another thereafter. wheels dragged by inertia. a force. hands keep on rolling. thirty minutes through. later. i break the silence. my favorite box opens. turn knobs up and down and adjust a bunch of puny slides. set the mids flaming. like hot molten metal. deafening. desensitizing. something to forget about. and that something keeps coming back.

did i say it out loud enough yet?

did i?

the end.

chapter 2 – my watch’s a year ahead.. or maybe back

i was all set. all set to get there n get out wit flying colors. but… i forgot to carry my painting kit. or pretty much like it. i lost time. d day was nearing and i was sleeping. sitting on that arm chair and reading mind numbing poems by an unknown creep who’s locked up in the jail. then i woke up from that happy theme park dream and i was late. dead lines everywhere. the marks i had made on the calendar were now a part of the gray and yellow history. and here i was. a blank slate. no chalk left to write with. and then it happend. some how. the influential elder saved my ass with her little magic wand like always. and warded off the evils of time. seven years before i was born. the world was still creating humans. the elder belonged to this era. and wit the experience of a professional lumberjack, the elder cleared the mess. and poured water into the pot where that plant grew. money plant. dying in the warmth of daylight. losing chlorophyll by the second.

chapter 3 – buns in d oven. longer the wait. harder they get.

it was now time for the flies to calculate and lay their egg’s who’d turn into swarmy maggots; into this fresh piece of shit. they took time. but then they did. it came rolling down the cliff. all the way from half a globe away. acceptance. a letter with ’1000′ printed on it. i saw this from V’s computer. a PDF that made my day. and another. and another after that. this went on for a week or two. then i was back on the ground. and saw that i was never up there. but that’s another finger that goes nowhere.

tommorow – a little visualisation is all that i need.

sittin on a peigon n flyin to your temple soon. till then, keep washing, and wearin out those underwear.

after all everything has dimensions. not one not 2, but bloody three whole dimensions. these numbers, the complexity of this stupid reality is so daunting u somtimes wanna let go and hit that delete button on everything in life. the slow, motionless files and thousands of filled up forms lying in the bottom drawer of a fungus growing attic folder-holder. ant hills.. where they dump dead shells of their micro baby eggs. an international student’s application for 4 universities wit over a hundred stupid forms and intricate 19 digit number sequences, numbers, alphabets. phone numbers, a-z, keys, keys on a keyboard, the pitch of an opera vocalist. the story of an egyptian pharaoh, a conqueror who ended up in a coffin wrapped up in linen for a centuries to rot. rot as hell. rot as bad as the world has ever known. mummified, glorified and studied by curious creatures of the future. scanned with machines of nano-precisions and computers. creating 3d models of hollow shells. those bones. necessary? what significance did one’s stupid existence have. breathing in, breathing out. aimless. involuntary. like the thoughts of a young monkey, eating lies of its younger sister’s ear hair. feeding on remains. living by the dawn of death. vultures encircling. gliding over the mystic corpse of a freshly hunted iguana whose claws are still cold. like they always were. so fresh. full of insects ready to hatch and metamorphosise into sex machines. multiplying to sustain their life form. for no particular reason. for the pleasure of it. to gratify their mate. themselves as well. a third friend watching over, might be? create numerable mini bugs. crawling. making complex patterns in the fine grains of sand. complex. why? is this world complex? couldn’t we write 50 lines of code to solve that problem?

dogshit is the dream of two individuals …. extremely talented … highly intelligent …(i’m loving it ) … and totally bored ….. so much so that they did engineering … and passed it too ….

but the true contribution of engineering lies in the fact that we came up with ideas like dog shit …. which is shit extreme …. shit thoughts put into shit action … and in the end its just beautiful (shit) ….

stupid intro

as an indian who landed up in engineering it was a dream to get my ass to d big ol US of A and slam an MS in an uber cool field..like huh say- visualisation… or design.. or music, after i succesfully finished my “engineering” course in 4 years flat. (mind it.. no backs..no ordis.. no critis..) so i started out and ask my elder sibling about d ways to do this. she cracked it a few years back after a near infinite tries, a visa reject and 4 years of separation from her loved one. she pepped me up sayin any wild bore or a fine ass can do it.. and i was instantly convinced.. she said my keywords and i quickly fell for the bear trap n jumped into the slaughter house. i set out on this journey, of which i have no clue (even today), and lack the the mental ability/patience/everything else.

chaptr 2 – struggle to score…

well i scored pretty well in engineering.. (ah! sweet.. if u know what i mean) but once i was out of the land of green grass i had to bend down and get my ass whooped to score a descent 4 digit number on my GRE.. impossible as it may seem with my explosive english and implosive math (implosive-explosions ultra cool eh? er..) i managed to score a bloody 1290 on 1600.. cheers. let me take a moment to refresh that moment of joy.. sigh.. sniff.. ok. back. but once i was done wit the 4 hour whooping, there was this 6 months of painstaking school search waiting to bite my balls. now, lets see, google did its job real good. goooogle for me. but then there was my Godly jijz… he was jus as brilliant and listed schools like a beetle with a spray gun . 10 schools BAM! listed out!

now i, like every other MS in US aspirant had 10 schools shortlisted in a puny MS word file on my desktop. with all those ugly unkerned times new roman font, pseudo bolds and shaky green underlines below every school name. but unlike everyone else in d rat race, i had a twist in the bone. i sloth-ified so much that i left a loophole, rather a looppit!

read about the looppit tomorrow.. why? cos i love to keep fools waitin..  read part 2 of this story here

meaning: means nothin. jus a word to fill d silence. screeam it out. yell.

example useage: this site is total pishaab.. (use extra ‘a’ to highlight it)
you’re reading this only to pishaaaaaab-ify your time.

enjoy.

a story

i tot this word to a stupid friend. she had d damn balls to go n say it in front of her boss. rest- imagination.

use. reuse. stupefy.

pishab. pure white pissshaaaaaaaaab!

2. u r a nut

iii. cos u don’t know to count

5. cos i skip numbers

4. or bcause of random order

7. insane is what u r

8. cos u love me.

9. i am a freak.

10. u r a geek.

11. no more things left to say

100. and we’re done for d day…

i love this message. a rare sight of logical phrases.