Where are you goin'?

Where are you goin'?
Where you gonna stay,
when you don't know your way?

Where are you goin'?
At the end of the day,
when you don't know,
where your head will lay?

Where are you goin'?
Who are you fightin'?
Where are you layin'?
Where no one will know your name.

Ship of past joy

I want to sail on a ship of past joy.

Somewhere on to a far away island
so deep in my nested dreams,
etching on the dim white sand,
where joy bursts from the seams.

I sailed on a ship of past joy.

Amidst seas, flowers and their hives of bees.
kneeling against the tides of time.
I carefully dotted the i's and crossed the t's.
a penny for my thoughts, an idea for your dime.

As I run aground my ship of past joy.

A flash of light, a treacherous noise.
Torn from want, to need, I bleed
a decade ahead to reality.
no thoughts, hopes, for posterity.

Telugu blockbuster

I have decided to make a Telugu movie. I am sitting on choosing the category for the opening of the two halves.

Category one - Movie starts with the protaganist as a 9 year old. In a chaddi and a chequered half sleeves shirt. Then something bad happens. Cuts to actor's introductory scene.

I didn't chose the tapori life.

 or

Category two - Movie starts with the introductory scene where nobody can make out why the protaganist is a dick head who beats rowdy looking guys to pulp. But don't worry flashback scene after interval will explain how something bad happened to him when he was just a kid, a 9 year old. In a chaddi and a chequered half sleeves shirt. And something bad happened.

Let's now abandon all reason and logic till I can be vindicated 20 fucking years later

Intro scene: Mahesh Sai Ram Charan Dharam Ravi Teja Nagendra Babooooooo, walks in and stands there for 12 minutes like a PR obsessed politician waiting for the camera to pan onto his face from 178 different angles, as the wind chooses to selectively blow onto only his hair and nothing else. He then slaps his thigh and the objects lying nearby settle into geosynchronous orbit.

FU ISRO

Throw in a female actor somewhere thereabouts. Who, with her sense of dressing, oozes extremely high standards of maan, maryada and sushiltha. But don't be disappointed horn dogs, come a song sequence, we will spare her a few ounces of thread to cover censor board rules herself, as she prances around in nigh-zero locations, to tunes that don't matter, because skin.
 



The first half clearly has no connection to the beginning of the second half. In fact, the audience might leave the cinema hall if there are any. So keep the hauns coming.

However, there is a saving grace. Bramhanandam. Not his role, of course, just his acting prowess. Sadly you have to put up with seeing him humiliated through most of the movie by the protaganist or the villain.

Single handedly saving your asses

Last integral part - The larger-than-life-but-only-till-the-movie-climax villain. He smirks all through the movie like he just soiled his underwear and liked it.

I have greyed symmetrically and it reminds me of my skid marks.

But hold on you highly opinionated, forever pissed, sex deprived, schadenfreudian, open letter writing people with internet connections. I have already sensed the vibes of the audience and they are gonna buy none of your bat shit outrage.

Now leave me alone for a while, I will go try to fit a script in there somewhere.

The egg factory

I think I am turning into something. Not something dangerous. Not something dark - no that would have been cool. I am turning into something very weird. Something that I don't understand.

So this morning, I was at this restaurant called The egg factory where, well they make eggs. I like eggs. The thought of a nice sunny side up creeping up on me when I am super hungry is not something I can ignore.

Anyway, after the tiny-sized over-priced brunch, the waiter came back with my change after I had paid my bill. I was busy staring at twitter on my phone while actually contemplating the sophisticated realities of adult life that have befallen me, when he muttered something like

Waiter *nervously*: "Five rupees change you have to give"

Or something like that, which I did not hear correctly, but know now.

Me: " ' beg your pardon?"

Waiter *now almost shaking because his interaction with customer has gone for over 7 seconds*: "Five rupees...something something"

And then

Me: "I do not comprehend the nature of your predicament."
*adjusts monocle*

Waiter *blankly stares at me for 5 seconds while we both process what just happened*: "Sir we don't have five rupees. You please give."

WHY WOULD I SAY "I do not comprehend the nature of your predicament."



WHERE DID THAT COME FROM?

I am pretty sure normal people don't suddenly regurgitate things like that out of nowhere.

I was half wishing that he responded with

"Why sir art thou speaking like a humungous piece of self-glorified turd ball that you obviously are?"

Then I would have had some semblance of an atonement. But he didn't.

This and many other untold turd ball stories...

And it's a girl

India: Twitter and Facebook users from the darkest, dingiest corners of an enchanted Kalispalya, Bangalore to Mandya's Achappan Kopplu were ringing with celebratory cheers

"   And it's a gurllllllll   ^_^   " 

because somewhere in Europe, a lady and a clean-shaven under-sized gorilla man, made a baby. Again.

Sensed a disturbance in the force? It was probably the sound of incoming Whatsapp messages like "Girl Roxxxxzzz Boy Shoxxxxzz", (prepared well in advance to suit either scenario).

TDH, wondering why the hue and cry over a seemingly mediocre news from a for-the-lulz-monarchy, headed over to the UK to find out, and we ran up against the father. He explained, that he is second in line and could be first in line (if the succession is leap-frogged), to be the "monarch" of the United Kindoms and the Commonwealth realms. India is among commonwealth realms.

However, he also explained, the baby was actually a big deal, because a normal man couldn't seduce a nun doing squats in a cucumber field, while looking like this-

Take a good look India. This could be your 'King'

While we agree that those teeth could be used to put the Kola Superdeep Borehole to shame, we still got in touch with the town crier Tony Appleton for some extra sound bites. And he proved to be a joyous and loyal servant.

Hear ye hear ye

Having fully understood Kalispalya's over-the-top obsession with the Royal baby, we headed back to India chanting 'Long live the queen'.

Humans

I think all humans were all in a previous life some beasts that had some sort of sentience enough to know cruelty and indulged in the worst form of it capable. And then we were born as humans to suffer a higher form of sentience.

Being human

P's relentless march towards becoming a human and full blown denial of being a dog continues. He now uses a pillow.

Don't come to the dark side P. It's a trap.