Well Hello... Mr. Loneliness

Hey Loneliness my old friend! Looks like we meet again! But then you were never ever gone, with me all along. So how are you doing? When would you be leaving? Don’t you have other better things to do, instead of wanting to do you? Like an uninvited guest you’ve overstayed your welcome (but in the first place when were you ever welcomed), so when would you be packing your bag and leaving, cause you’re the one thing I don’t need even if I ain’t grieving.

Like a lover you refuse to leave my side, if that’s case I would rather love than have you by my side, and if there were a lover then there would be no other to leave me lonely alone. 

Aren’t there others to stalk, more deserving candidates that I am not. Why don’t you give them a short, as you’ve done for me, to get to know you really well from all the time we’ve spent, hopefully not birds of a feather, cause there’s no way I would want us to flock together. 

Isn’t there a poor soul out there who deserves to be more lonelier than me (though I really pray not). Don’t you think it’s time we move on, to better things in life, though I wonder and shudder thinking what would be better for you. 

If you love me then why do you hurt me? Why do you revel in the agony of cutting me and leaving me bleeding. Such torture, I say, is sadistic, unbecoming of a lover. But then you’re unlike any lover, you’ll just laugh as I lay there bleeding, leaving me to wonder what pleasure do you get from doing so? What high do you get from making me feel low and alone. 

May be it’s time we take a break from each other, not the Ross and Rachel kind, a real kind of break, let’s say forever. Try to find another, to say goodbye to each other. To bid farewell, not for a while or a mile, but for all time to come. I really hope we don’t see each other... ever.

The Rhetoric Question Exasperation

There are Questions, and then there are QUESTIONS, the ones you wished to avoid, the ones you wish you would never hear, but the ones your are most likely to be asked, no matter how hard you try. Questions that serve no purpose, other than fodder for gossip, ammunition to get those tongues wagging, opportunity to throw shade. More often than not they have an answer in themselves. They are often made to sound like a matter or life and death, a matter that the nation wants to know (well not quite the nation but some idle, gossipy aunties do want to know), people that are always curious for an answer, but didn’t they hear that curiosity killed the cat, not that I want them killed (a stray thought does find itself rising to the conscious of an irritated mind), but hey they just want to be shady queens.

So you have the bane of every person who happens to find themselves single, an easy target for these questions. Sometimes you wonder if it’s their life’s mission to get everyone married off. Is it envy or is it shade (more likely the later) that make them ask it again and again, till they pummel a poor soul into submission, after all why should married people suffer alone.

So every time someone asks me “So when are you getting married?” or “Why aren’t you getting married?” makes me want to quip “that’s because you are not doing a good job in trying to find a suitable spouse/ partner for me” (God forbid if they actually start looking for you), “So when are you giving us good news,” makes me itch to retort “I am not pregnant, I’ll give good news when men start giving birth.” Procreation is not my sole purpose in life, and I have no intention of sowing my oats.

Sometimes I wonder if they can ever take a hint. I am nearing 40s (shudder) and not unmarried, which could only mean that I either don’t believe in the union of holy matrimony or marriage isn’t meant for me, isn’t my cup of tea. So I wished they just take the hint and let me be and not get jealous of my bachelorhood, after all getting hitched ain’t everything.

And then there’s question of weight, a very touchy subject for us men too (or I could say for me). So the question “have you put on weight?” lends itself to the answer, the question itself is the answer. If I look like I have put on weight, no amount of denying can take away this fact, but we  still try and deny it. So if seeing is believing, and what you see is I am carrying some extra weight, being fat lazy bum, then you needn’t doubt your eyes, or try to rub it in, unless you wish to change the way you view the world.

These questions seem to follow us everywhere, refusing to let go of us, refusing to leave our side. Everywhere we go the curiosity keeps peaking up by our very presence, refusing to settle down. In fact these questions have one thing in common with marriage, they’ll never leave our side, no matter what, in fact they will remain with us till death do us apart.

Mumbai Local Trains: Bringing people closer together

The Mumbai locals, the lifeline of the city’s transportation system, have been around  for well over a century and a half, and for over a century and half it has single handedly managed to bring people closer together. You’re squeezed against each other, like a can of sardines, packed during peak hours, so much that you don’t know where one person ends and the other begins. It’s like you two becomes one.

Its bodies pressed against each other, crotch meets butt, face meets armpit, oily hair meets elbow (for that matter, any part that should come in contact with it). You become brothers bathed in each other’s sweat, sweat brother, sweaty brothers, who in the end begin to smell the same. And with all that continuous bump and grind, it’s almost an orgy of dry humping, with all that hot and heavy breathing over the neck, only adding to the atmosphere.

You don’t need any cold cream or moisturiser. Just stand next to a well oiled head and you’ll be lucky enough to have it rubbed against you. The caveat being you should not be picky of whether it’s nariyal ka tel, or sarson ka tel, or any tel for that matter. Just go with the flow and you’ll be well oiled.

Hands become intertwined as they reach to hold whatever they find to hold. Legs become intertwined, trying to find a toe space, if a foot space is not possible (which is most of the time). Heads peering over shoulders straining to see what the other is seeing, what the other is reading, making it a group activity of reading, watching. With body parts intertwined, bodies intertwined, weaving into a fabric of the brotherhood of train travellers.

Thus the locals have been successful at bringing people together, that no man or thing can put asunder. In short, what the Mumbai locals brings together let no man put asunder.

Everyday is Yoga Day

Well we recently concluded national, or was it international, Yoga Day. It’s the one day when you have people bending like pretzels, into positions that you never thought was humanly possible. Flooding the internet, social media with pictures and videos of them performing various yoga asanas in celebration of the day.

But then you also have those who perform yoga everyday. They perform yoga asanas at each and every part of their day. For example, they do the reshape asana where they contort their body into different shapes so as to try an squeeze into any space, which they are fortunate enough to find, in a crowded Mumbai local. Then you have the hang-in-there asan, where you hang on for you dear life, to every little nook and crevice, that you can find while traveling by say a Virar local (I am a Western suburb guy, no bias here). Then you have the shrink asan where to you try to squeeze as much as possible so as to fit into that fourth seat or make place for that fourth seat. 

If these asanas weren’t enough then you have the holding your breath asana where you have to perform breath control when you’re pressed to someone with a well oiled head. The sarso and the naryal ka tail help you test your limits on how long you can hold your breath, and not to forget the various sweaty armpit, which you would be unfortunate to smell depending on your height. You also get a good stretch while trying to reach for the overhead handles that are two people away.

Then you come to office and you have to be constantly performing another set of asanas like the ballet asana where you constantly need to be on your toes, unless you’re the manager or the boss. You also have to do the bend-over asana where you need to bend forward and backward and in all directions to keep your leads, managers, bosses, clients, just about everyone, happy.

At the end of the day, when you’re back home after a tiring and stressful day, all you want to do is perform the shavasana, close your eyes and be dead to the world (not literally, hope you get the gist of what I mean).

So spare a thought for these poor souls, for whom every day is yoga day. They don’t even flood the social media and the Internet with videos and images of them doing yoga; most the time I don’t think they are even aware of what they are doing, but still do it every single day.

Morons of the Street... the characters you meet on the road

You find them everywhere, roaming around like they just don’t care. Often assuming that they are the greatest thing to have walked the earth, the greatest gift to mankind. Well if they are a gift then could I have the receipt please, maybe they could be exchanged for a better piece, if a refund ain’t possible.

They go around like they own the streets, they own the road, as if they are the king of the road. Following rules is so beneath them, rules ain’t meant for them, not applicable to them. The road is their formula one, motor GP track, and they are future Michael Schumacher, Lewis Hamilton, Danica Patrick and Rossi, speed demons, who have a need for speed.

Helmets were not made for them, cause how do you give them something that would spoil their appearance, a tool that could drive them bald, a conspiracy by those who are jealous of their looks. So you will find them on the wrong side of the road, helmetless, at times three on a poor two- wheeler that has to bear their weight, talking on their phone, jumping signals, trying to cut lanes. 

They love their horns more than anything in this world, or so it may seem, blasting it every single opportunity, as if each blast gives them some sort of orgasmic release. They are always in a high, a high beam that is, almost blinding the poor oncoming traffic with their headlights in high beam. Thus making it their mission of making their fellow motorists deaf with the blairing  of their horn, blind from their headlight.

And should you chance to find yourself in front of one of these, beware, be prepared, just give them way. They will blast their horns, and give you icy glares, till you give them what they feel is rightfully theirs. How dare you block their way, how dare you?

So if you chance to come across one of these creatures, which you very likely will, take a deep breath and stay calm, cause loosing it will do you more harm, cause they will remain the morons that they are.

Dearest Aunties & Uncles: An open letter to those concerned about my marriage

Dear Aunties and Uncles and all my concerned relatives,

Those whom I happen to run into at family functions, religious functions, weddings and funerals and Months Mind masses,

I thank you so much for all your concerns that you shower upon me. I know I am, in your words and not mine, good looking and handsome,not getting any younger, with a bunch of grey hairs (my George Clooney look) and need to stop running and just settle down. I appreciate your offer to look for a suitable match for me within your locality, in your relations, who would definitely want to marry their daughter with me. I appreciate your concern about my wellbeing and my mental state. Trust me I am doing well by myself and I am happy-go-lucky.

They say people learn from their mistakes, but the wiseman learns from the mistakes of others. In that way I am just an observer who is learning from what I see. Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against marriage, in fact that I respect the institution of marriage (without which I wouldn’t have been here, or would have been a snow... or whatever name a bastard child would be given (how very Game of Thrones) making you loose out on some juicy gossip). But marriage is just not for me.

If procreation and furthering the family name is a reason for marriage, then that I can do without marriage... I can adopt a child and give him or her a home And family name (what were you thinking you naughty devil you). So that’s out of the way.

I thank you for your concern about my mom. She’s doing well. I know I can and I am taking good care of her. Talking about moms, how is your mom or mom in law doing? Is she living with you? Are you all living together? 

So don’t you worry about my maa I can take good care of her. If I need to I can keep a house help or a care giver for her. I don’t need to get married to have someone to take care of her. You say she needs someone to run the house and take over the kitchen and household duties.

Let me ask you something, is this what you tell or advice your daughters to do? We live in a day and age where a lady has every right as a man to earn a living and work, follow her dreams and make a name for herself and not be tied to or expected to run a family. And you know what ... I am all for it. So I don’t think I want to tie someone down to looking after my mother, in which case I will keep a servant anyway.

So my dearest concerned aunties and uncles, to cut a long story short, I am not looking to get married. I am happy with my Bachelor’s degree and I have no intention of loosing it any time soon. If marriage were to happen, it would be of my choice and when the time is right for me, not for anyone else, age, religion, cast, gender, sex no bar. And don’t worry, if I do plan to take the plunge, tie the knot, become the next balli ka bakra, I will surely let you know. Till then let me enjoy my bachelorhood. 

Yours truly,

Rodu.... Roddie.... Pottiya... Son.... Baba