staring reflection

it stares right in my eyes

from every glossy shiny surface

and with a hint of disgust

declares that i've strangled the innocence

hatred oozing out of every gaze

as if trying to expose me to myself

slashing me out of the my soul

with an assortment of preaching parlance

but hey! i know what i am

so i don't need you to moral policing me

coz you only know the dark side of moon

and i know i have got a crystal clear conscience

Mystic on the bridge

Thoughts were getting intense as the daylight ducked under the mountains and darkness reigned. A face beautifully wrapped in wrinkles started cropping up on the walls of my skull. A face having long swinging beard which could be home to Crested Oropendolas. It appears to be a Buddha figure with beard.

A city where commuting by any other means of transport is a nightmare, I am one of those rare breed of blessed residents of Mumbai who "walk to work". On my way, I have to cross a railway over bridge, generally having very few strollers, a feature very uncommon in Mumbai. The broken side railings, fractured stairs and iron rods peeping out of ripped cement, surfaces the age of the bridge.

It's been quite sometime I am using the bridge. Although there are some other alternate roads which I can use to reach office but there is some strange attraction which pulls me towards the bridge. The steps are frequent in morning, there is hardly anytime to look around, but in the evening the lazy steps give eyeballs a chance to gaze at the details. It's the time when I sense some kind of tranquility unfolding on the bridge. And as I draw near to the North West end of the bridge, the same Buddha figure with beard which was cropping up in my mind while I was leaving from the office comes alive. An old man, perhaps ages old, with just skin on the bones sitting in a posture similar to that of an enlightened Buddha, humming something which is hardly decipherable. He seems to be a nomad. I see him daily.

Whenever I get closer to the flights of steps of the mystic's bridge, few questions arise in my mind. Daily, I resolute to ask him but as I come nearer to him, it becomes difficult for me to muster up the courage and propound my queries to the vagabond , I simply walk past him.

What is he singing? Why he always sits on exactly the same place daily? Does he know how many years are passed since he first sat here? How many ages he has seen? IS HE THE BUDDHA?

Well, in the meantime, my fascination for mystics is ever-growing.

"Shoe-Hurling Era" - Future Trends

Boy! it took a lot of pondering and scribbling to decide the title of this post. A few heads I was considering were - "Shoe Hurling Saga", "Common Man's Weapon", "New found democratic cult", "Future of shoe hurling age" and finally I zeroed in on this one.

To redefine "Shoe-Hurling", it refers to flinging a Juta (Shoe) to vent frustration by a common aadmi on some useless person generally belonging to politics clan.

What might have started as an impulsive reaction by some distressed being has now become a cult. I am here trying to figure out, if this trend kept flourishing at the same pace, what is it that we can expect in future?

10 Future Trends:

1. In coming Olympics, we will see an official "Shoe-Hurling Competition"
2. Kids will hurl shoes to get fruits off the trees
3. Shoe-Hurling fad will evolve into juggling. Will see a few circus jokers expertise the skill
4. Shoes will come in triplets, two to wear, one to fling
5. The movement will worm its way to Schools, Colleges and Offices
6. Teachers and bosses will also start inhabiting in net shields
7. Shoe and Hurling will become costliest key words with Google Adwords
8. "Indian Shoe-Hurling League" will replace "Indian Premier League (IPL)"
9. We may also see a few academies making junta dexterous at this new art
10. Celebrating "Shoe-Hurling Day" ahead of Valentines Day

Well, telling future is anybody's guess, what present teaches is, netas need to be cautious while making promises and need to remember what they promised last time they came on the roads, otherwise few agitated people will make their heads swinging.

Philosophy at tea time

My blog was into a deep meditative mood for last one month and hence there is no post.
Well, to be honest, wasn't actually having the time to weave the words, New year started on quite a busy note.

But last week I was lazing at a tea stall. The most wisdom endowed people in India can either be located at a "Paan Ki Dukaan" or at a "Tea Stall". I have always wondered how people become so intelligent and full of insights while they guzzle down hot tea or munch a Paan. Folks here discuss some of the world's most head scratching problems and decipher them as they shoot reddish jets from their chops.

Phew... getting back to the incident, I was having my evening cup of tea with my left ankle on right knee, and suddenly a few words from surrounding wormed their way into my ears. "IF YOU KEEP ON SCREWING OTHER'S LIVES, ALL YOU WILL BE LEFT WITH IN YOUR HAND IS AN SCREW DRIVER."

Well said, worth atleast a post...

Revisiting Past

Sitting idle on terrace,
crunching chips and puffing serious butt,
looking out into the sky,
which is unusually starry today,
George Michael singing "Last Christmas"
as Christmas approaches,
a perfect evening to break free,
and travel back in time,
to revisit jobless times,
I fondly call them college days...

Wink of time

During college times, management jargon sounded very attractive...
A year on job and I am learning, those jargon looked better in books

DIE HARD on Mumbai Streets

It was like watching live shoot of some Hollywood action flick, where there are futuristic terrorists with sophisticated weapons entering the financial capital of world's biggest democracy with storm, opened fire at various public places, seize two five star hotels and hold high profile guests at ransom. Than arrive cops, commandos, military and in a span of few hours a glittering and lively town turns into an urban battlefield.

Well, this would have looked appreciating if this was a movie, but it happened on the streets of Mumbai, and still happening as I write. Terrorism, which was never gone is back with a bang and this time it is looking more organized, better equipped, more powerful and less fearful. Welcome to the age of urban combat zone terrorism.

And while all these incidents are happening, Mr. Shivraj Patil is still clueless about the vulnerability of security system in India, which is crippled and dead, which cannot sense what is about to happen next and which has proved its incompetence over and over again in last 8 months. Mr. Home Minister, kindly stop being so numb, citizens of India are living their lives on gunpoint, and we would feel relived if you can formally withdraw yourself from your responsibilities because you are not able to shoulder them.

And this goes with all the politicians who will turn up after normalcy returns and repeat the same scripts which they have played on every such occasion. Meanwhile, I was just wondering where on earth can I find the so called saviour of marathi manoos Mr. Raj Thackray? Untraceable

Woo Hoo! I will be on TV..

Yesterday was quite an extraordinary day in my lovely little life. Since morning I was pretty upbeat, the beautiful grey and black clouds were covering the whole city of Mumbai, the soft breeze was flowing all around and I was getting ready for my first shoot!!!

Hundreds of thoughts were running through my mind; what? How? Who? Answering so many inquiries to myself, I moved ahead to Inorbit Mall at Malad where a pick up van was waiting for me to drop me at the studio, situated near the beautiful beach of Madh Island. All through my way I was enacting and imitating sometimes also mimicking and probably infinite would be the number if I calculate how many times I have been in front of the mirror!!!

I have always been on the other side of an idiot box (read TV), but it was a chance to see how things are inside it.

It was a memorable experience as I got to meet a lot of people.

The Organizer: Hey Mayur! Finally you came. (I was a bit hesitant to be on the show after I was selected during auditions)

Me:Yeah, finally.

TO: So where are your other team-mates?

Me: I donno who are my team-mates! (I shrugged my shoulders)

TO: (made some nasty faces), No problem. I know who they are, once the other two are here I will brief on what to do.

(and with the end of the sentence, a "I-have-seen-him-somewhere-but-didn't-remember-where" kinda face walks in)

TO: Oh! the other team-mate is here. You must be knowing him, he is from your organisation only.

Me: Ye..yeah...yeah...I...kn...know him...(hmmm)..he is(gosh! I know him but what's his name?)

Me: (walking towards the new guy in the scene) hey buddy! how are you?

New Guy: Hi! yaar I am sorry, I know you but don't know your name.

Me: Same is the case here (and we burst in laughter)

After exchanging the names and getting familiar with each other, we sat for lunch which was arranged by the show organisers. As we completed the lunch the organizer came in with another guy(thank god! he is not from my organization) and takes the pain to introduce him to us. TO left three of us to bring his laptop so as to give us the brief.

Me: (to the third guy) hey! what's your name? what are you doing?

The third guy: Sarang, I am from "Actor Prepares"

New Guy: What's that?

TTG: I am an struggling actor.

Me & NG: Oh! OK

(seems that post is getting longer, let me curtail it)

After the brief of the show we rehearsed on how we will act. we also created a chant for our team Wall Rockers as we named it. After the make-up we went to the shooting area and it was a pleasant surprise to know that Cyrus is anchoring the show. Although we lost the game but it gave me the memories to cherish for lifetime.

Oh! I forgot to tell the name of the show, its "Hole in the Wall" which will get telecasted on POGO channel but don't know when.

Desperately waiting to see myself on the so-called "Idiot Box"...