When I'm strange

passion misfits and argumentatives

watch lead take notice

watch her age gloriously

blinding colours and fancy beams

lead towards the soul

precarious notion, life is

lead me by the hand

take my land, plant your hope

passion misfits and argumentatives

follow the road

travelled everyday

the passion eroded

kingdom lost, shaken dreams

i wake, miss tomorrow

give me yesterday

arguments and agreements

changes before us

let me take my hand

lead me to the promised land

dream my passion now

for the king bleeds

it will never sleep.

Extra Well done.

In the lead up to the evening last night, a lethargicmishap of events occurred, two weekends were whiled away in the hopes of the one to follow, Lo and behold, this one blew up in smoke. My random fickleness seemed to have underpinned a 'relationship sourness' within a light-hearted friendship which, to an extent I seem to have taken for granted.

The life lead in a foreign country already brings with it certain guarded mechanisms, and in some contexts pretty adverse queries. My fellow chinese colleague with whom I share this (granted, result of thought processes and inevitable blame on myself, i accept) relationship is at times, a complete mystery. She seems to enjoy most of the western Sitcoms that are thrown at her, and seems to understand sarcasm fairly well and also is the butt of every third joke said. Although, the strange feeling that has resulted in my vigorous vent is surprise, or to an extent Culture shock, not just mine...her's too.

As the doobie was lit, I could see the change in her 'ever blank face', expressions which suggested a frown or suppressed glare. I might have reached a point in my personality portrait as a complete stereotypical 'bad boy' successfully, not just in my own country but I see this happens to transcend national boundaries as well. Either way, she seems to be under the impression, being subjected to an innocent request for another day of her beloved quarter's bathroom window (for fear of police, skinheads and the nascent alert trigger-999 happy man), that one is using all that she has to offer, and thus reinforcing 'not her opinion'.

I guess I have to come to terms with the equality argument more than ever now, there is a mutual respect and She has done more than all I have done for her, and it seems as if I keep using most of her time, space and ease. Naturally, the scale tips towards 'my non existence, and her taking me and my presence for granted even though I ask for it'. So each of us takes eachother for granted, and their is a surprisingly misfit rush of emotions, I felt offended when she refused outright today, and that made me realise how much I had been pushing her in the first place, and from this moment on, I pledge that I will not barge and butt in to her space, and she will be satisfied as to what value I represent, up untill the next time, the smokewalk is a real walk, not a visit.

The Exclusive that got under.

I look to NDTV as a reminder of the fact (loose imagination) that I live 'not so far away' and to stay connected, a strange umbilical relationship so to speak with Bharat Mata.

Subtle Sensationalism, to thwart the rest of the channels operating out of the crowded transmission archipelago that is the NCR, NDTV has emerged as the lone ranger, a champion of the urbanite who reasons with the development and taking notice that revolves around brand 'India' post 2000. Beautifully gracious presenters, minute investigative journalism but Larger than life portrayal of Bollywood as well as Cricket. As per Maslow, Basic needs are met by the urbanite, now the social need and the urge to belong to a society. I feel the same relationship with this channel being part of this same urban India throughout my advent as a teenager. Today, I realised that the same channel which coerced exuberance within me to shape my opinion in and around the tone of the presenter has lost my vote. Indian TV for me would never be the same again.

SRK:

A week of following the man's comments on NDTV makes me realise how much they have actually helped shape the entire week long controversy. Their own debate this evening had a segment where the participants were asked to evaluate whether the Media played any role in sorting any issues between two publc entities, namely a political party with a history of violence and a movie star with a strong sense of his basic rights, rightfully so, and most of the people came up with Barkha Dutt stuffed words down their throats as she led every answer to her own opinion! An entire week of the channel's shows and the 'almost superstar' statuses that their presenters enjoyed have led me to trust, if not smile at the hypocrisy that is so primitively publicised. They say the public at large has a minuscule memory but the art of placing the open debate open is a work of pure marketing propaganda! thank you NDTV. I am learning!

Here's the first. A pocketfull.

A marathon of television shows throughout the past three nights of flu induced sleeplessness, as well as the occasional secret life which leads way into the morning. Alas, the state explained can only be truly supported by the need, this un-ending need to be associated with something, atleast something made to work out perfectly, be it the alcoholic writer who miraculously manages to juggle a goddess non-married life partner and unbelievably hot situations with countless voluptuous countesses whom he manages to seduce into a charmingly untidy togetherness with himself, and also not to forget the love child of the prior, entangled in this crazy little world, wherein taking to drugs and escapism just fits. Or, in another scenario childhood buddies living the high life riding on agents of playboy mansions, private airplanes and aston martins.

These visual escape routes have always been my forte. the exit from weed was a geographically inflicted wonder and a present emptiness seems to have enveloped me, so much as not spend about thrice as much as I would have back home on that JD, my humbleness as an automated non money spender (there are those 'other' streaks of course) and a terrible 'young person' has risen.

The West or the idea of it back home implied open sex lives, neurotic thought discussions, music and culture rape fantasies and the occasional understated but terribly effective freedom. The word in the true sense seems alien as far as my dictionary has its say. there are the parties and the party-goers, I on the other hand, wouldn't know how to describe what I would term and so would another compassionate anti social 'expensive and cock-sucky'. I did not ask him to elaborate on the latter, although thought the phrase was aptly put. I am not here to thwart the existence of boom boxes and dance floors, what if rap and dancing were never your thing.

The Perfect Party defined and personified through the following penned phrases will give you an idea of how much of a lost hippie I am.

From afar, it would look like a flurry of lights under the open moonlit sky, where moonlighters and their rockstar alter egos would bathe amidst this chilling play of sounds, vocal and string. I moonlight as a hippie and my pride speaks abundance through this writ. Bohemian words of wisdom brought together hellish minds and tired teenage defunct-ness to chaotic order. I want to be part of a larger, more direction driven cause where it all means something. I want to be led and bred, I want to feel my power emanating towards the direction of purpose. Music was created and only truly created during the duress of a million minds wandering the streets looking for needle dug black circular euphonic effigies which when not burned and used stood for something, a cause, a fervour of frankness and communication. this is the promised land of the tune, where is it?

Bling and Burberry: Brought forth in the laymen speak, sluts and satans with daddy's fat wallets buy and sell souls and miss the entire point of celebration. It was to be celebrated when a hundred jews were saved from the hand built plague of the nazi's right under their noses, It was to be celebrated when a baby survived a 5 day wait for rescue workers under the rubble, It was to be celebrated when life happened. I lose all faith and confidence when pointless social realms of existence and pretending to be friends became the cause. How did we get here? Who led us here?

The Glastonbury festival is sold out, even if I did want to go and shack at the tent for a good 72 hours I would have to spend just about a quarter of what is to run me the rest of the two months (Europe and all considering I WILL not work meagre jobs, dont hate, not racist but I am doing the wage giver a favour not having to deal with called in lethargy translated as sick and snort). This lethargy as least as being physical also does not imply my loss in the ideal anti-lethargic zest for what work I aspire for, a creative medium through which to place pieces, and build a shape as we go along, not a puzzle which has a definite solution but something to suffice and do better.

An extreme co-existential relationship can evolve, I am the pseudo fit, the non sportsman, the non small talk maker, the non smily one, the non niceties believer. I treasure friendship, time (even the drunken ones), money, food, relationships. Tell me now, am I lost? or am I just on track. I know the 70's have gone away, but I am right here. I am not 2010 although I like what I see, I ain't buying it.