The Swing (A Short Story)

The following story is based on purely fictional events and half fictional characters.


After smoking 2 joints, a super sundae became a must, but in this abysmally poor town of rangpur, Dinesh was devoid of that too. So straddling his doping partner with him on his bike, he left for the nearest eating place, A small, garden adorned restaurant called madhuban. ”What a sacrilege to the blessed forest of lord Krishna” Dinesh thought to himself as he parked outside the restaurant entrance. The gardens which formed the principle attraction of the restaurant were actually infested mating grounds for cats, dogs and what not. After spending 3 years here, Dinesh was familiar with most of the waiters at the place and after exchanging a few greetings and hand shakes with some of them, whose names he couldn’t remember till now, he sat down at his favorite spot; the swing. It was an adolescent swing, too big for a kid, too small for a full grown man.

The restaurant was specially crowded today, must be some mother fucking festival of the locals, that’s why each of them ladies looked dressed for a Ram Lila. Dinesh took out a cigarette and lit it with a swift motion of his hand. He loved it when he thought himself from others eyes, must look very sexy, bent over a match stick, cigarette in mouth; Classic Dev Anand, mysterious and cool. After about 5 minutes of rocking and puffing, Dinesh felt suitably satisfied, and turned his attention towards his friend, who had been blabbering something for past sometime. It turned out to be his friends latest long distance girl friend with whom he felt supposedly ‘one’, “spiritual oneness” as he called it, which sounded more like extensive foreplay before a sex which was never going to happen.
“I tell you Dinesh, what difference does it make if she’s a few years elder to me? When you have the right motive, the whole universe acts towards fulfilling it, and I feel one with her yaar, it never happened before. I feel elevated!”
Dinesh wished for him to shut up, maybe elevate himself from this life. That would solve problems.
“I don’t know man, it’s your girlfriend, you know better.”
He would definitely have to search for new doping partners; this one was getting to be a bit too much blabber-mouth.

“Uncle, I want to sit on the jhoola.” Dinesh turned his face right, and there a young boy of about 7 was standing with his toothless mouth open, and grinning stupidly at him. He was wearing clothes of the general theme for the crowd, brightly striped T-shirt, and a belted pair of jeans, tied way above the waist. “Maybe I should get myself a pair, will be such a fashion statement in Mumbai”, Dinesh thought to himself.
“What jhoola?”
“This one”
“Oh! You mean this swing? And why do you want to sit on it?
“Come on, you have to tell me why, or else why should I get up?”
The boy stared at Dinesh, his grin melting away slowly.
“look, this swing is very special, and you need to be qualified to sit here, or else ill kill you, so tell me now, why do you want to sit here?”
The boy stared at Dinesh, trying to measure him up, and didn’t say anything.
“You like this jhoola?”
This time in answer, the boy upturned his lips, and clenching eyes hard, turned on the bawl-mode, and started bawling, real loud. Dinesh reveled in the moment, and smiled, with no intention of getting up from the swing. His friend was also smiling and looking here and there, not to be identified in this mischief.
The suddenly, out of one of the garden bushes a dark man appeared. Tall and fat, the man towered Dinesh and demanded his son,
“What’s going on?”
Between his sobs the little boy told his story, that how this uncle doesn’t let him sit on the swing, increasing the volume of his bawls slightly.
“E mister, what is your problem? Why are you troubling the child? This swing is for children, get up now”.
“I don’t see a sign anywhere which says that this is for children only. And he can sit when I get up from the swing, not before that, so please don’t disturb me”.
The man certainly didn’t expect to be cut off in this manner, so he grabbed Dinesh’s collar and looked him into the eye.
“When I tell you to get up, you should get up, or else it won’t be good for your health, understand?”
“I think you don’t know that I study in the local college…”
Suddenly everything went black for 2 seconds in front of his eyes, and then Dinesh realized he had been slapped on his right cheek. The sensation was tingling, and he could feel warmth coming out of it. His instinct was to cry like a baby, but he managed to control himself and hung his head down.
“I don’t give a fuckin damn where you study. Don’t give me that shit, take your friend and run away, right now or ill bash up every bone in your body, understood?”
Dinesh nodded meekly in return, searched for the bike keys and nearly ran out of the restaurant, with his friend behind him. He could hear bits n pieces of abuse and laughter flung their way.

“Should we call the college and call our people? These locals need to learn a lesson. What do you think?”
His friend asked Dinesh taking out his cell phone,
“Keep it inside, anyways they wont be interested, and I have been humiliated enough for one day. Let’s go back, smoke a joint and forget this ever happened.
“And anyways I think it was my mistake.”
And both of them went back to the hostel.

Creation Lost...

I just wrote a long blog entry, after careful and measured thinking, with some amount of effort, and accidentally pressing publish as post, i pressed the create button... and voila! the whole article was lost. Even after some sort of warning from the blogger, and i had this blank screen staring at me, and me staring back. Two idiots communicating with each other. I pressed the back button, still no use. And i felt incredibly helpless, not even angry, but sorry for myself. Well well, since i had planned to write something, this comes here to you.
(In some ways i thing this makes for a better entry than what the actual one was going to be...well who knows!)

Heeding The Omens: (vide The Alchemist)

Today as i sat down on the commode, to shit, i closely inspected my left arm (not the bodybuilder stuff, plain soft 'who cares' arm), i found there was one extremely long and jet black hair... the rest of them were small and light, but this one was different. My whole concentration shifted on this philistine, i pondered for some time, and reached to pull it out.
Then something in me clicked, and i thought to myself "this must be the omen that book keeps talking about, (which i hate)" and refrained, and viewed the hair with utmost repect. By this time i had finished shitting, and washed my hands.

Now i wait, O Paulo, show me thy omens, and give me thee confidence in destiny. Wheres my personal Alchemist? I think i have already started on the path...

Lost for words...

Was listenin to this song by Floyd...


So I open my door to my enemies
And I ask could we wipe the slate clean
But they tell me to please go fuck myself
You know you just can't win

It Isn't Time That's Passing

Remember the long ago when we lay together
In a pain of tenderness and counted
Our dreams: long summer afternoons
When the whistling-thrush released
A deep sweet secret on the trembling air;
Blackbird on the wing, bird of the forest shadows,
Black rose in the long ago summer,
This was your song:
It isn't time that's passing by,
It is you and I.

By-
Ruskin Bond

The Alchemy Of Love

Now dont go too deep into the topic, because it may not appeal to you. I will be trying to touch upon the ways in which 'love' acts.
What is love? I will quote the oxford dictionary here- Affection felt for another person in a sexual manner. I cant be too mechanical so as to believe this, but this is what is on paper. And the truth is not much far away.
There are two kinds of love; one that germinates slowly and surely, whose roots hold strong on the ground. Normally it results between two "mature" people. Those who understand the gravity of the situation, the norms of society, and their priorities. This is beautiful, because here love holds a different meaning, of being a soulmate. As with my experience i have known it takes time. And no, it cant be said that 4 months is also enough. It takes years. And these people are silent about their association, it is never said bluntly but felt from inside.
The 2nd kind is what is more popular, and based purely on thoughts and infatuations. A weak foundation. It can be termed as a 'whirlwind' affair also. It happens when either one of the two has freshly broken up, and needs support, or one of them is really really eager just to fall in love. So it lasts around a couple of months, and friendship nowehere touches the scene. Its always a result of pre decided thinking. After a certain amount of time, the couple has everything to give to each other, except love. And then a 'break up' takes place, where vows are taken to never talk, or see each other again.
I am not saying that the 2nd kind are inferior. Everyone goes through that stage, but what i want to understand is, how long and how many attempts does it take for a person to understand this. After some time friendship should become the choice, because too many breakups means an immature personality. Then its time to start from the basics, and learn to heed the signs.

I am trying to curb my emotions, and relearn the process of loving someone. Because i do want to fall in love, but it should be real. Not in lust.

Quoting Dylan::
How many years can a mountain exist
Before it's washed to the sea?
Yes, 'n' how many years can some people exist
Before they're allowed to be free?
Yes, 'n' how many times can a man turn his head,
Pretending he just doesn't see?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,
The answer is blowin' in the wind.

Ever Toyed with the idea of suicide?

Sometimes when i am walkin on a busy road, i have this irresistible urge to throw myself in front of a speeding car, and watch specks of my flesh flying about, and ruining at least one persons car, and his day.

I have always wondered about one thing, what is the level of desperation, the last thought, that drives a person to take that fateful step, take the plunge, so to say. Its almost beautiful in conception, something that keeps on bugging you, takes over your mind, your thinking.
We read about it in papers all the time, and its always like, one more suicide...what difference does it make? but think about it, everyone in their lives at least once faces such a situation, where the choices are sparkingly clear: Stay here and suffer, Die and get rid of all the problems, at once. Instant solution, Instant Death, like Instant Coffee, in poor taste.
My reading has taken me once deep into the mind of a person who kills himself, 'A Fine Balance'. A great piece of work, and it drove me towards suicide. why? Its about a boy, perhaps of my age, who broadens his perspective just a little bit early, and a lot wide. The ironical part is, of all the characters, outwardly he was doing the best. Still better than getting amputated or castrated. But that is where the essence lies, His mind drove him towards it, the pressure, everything starts opressing.
Imagine becoming breathless because of the thoughts in your mind, stifling your throat, you instinctively gasp, but it doesnt help. No one around to help you out, or rather, you yourself have stooped too low for anyone to pick you up. And then those train tracks-sulfas pills-quintessential ceiling fan-rat poison start to look inviting, a final treat, a sumptuos meal to mark the end of a troublesome life.
Is it worth it? i can easily say had i been in place of that person i would have waited. i would have hoped... But maybe i thank god, that i am not in his place...
I am still awed, and still want to know, what is the last thought that flashes through a persons mind, before he commits suicide, the very last one.

For my dear friend

The Last leaf.....



Was thinking of old friends today
And how many of them have slipped away.
Moved, got married,
or stopped calling so much,
Found new friends,
got busy, and just lost touch.


It reminded me of falling leaves.
Every autumn the leaves fall from the trees.
Some stay longer than others,
but eventually - Each leaf must fall,
I'm told, Leaving the tree alone to face the cold.


Why is it that in the time of utmost need
The leaves would seek to leave the tree?
And when we need our friends around
We look and they can not be found?
Of course these friendships come and go
And in the spring new leaves will grow.


But I prefer autumn friends of old
With crackling laughter and colors bold.
It saddens me now, I must admit,
How somehow, someway,
I did forget
Laughing with old friends of mine
During summers when the sun would shine.


And then I thought of you.
That one stubborn leaf that won't let go.
That clings despite the winds that blow.
Fighting ice, and snow, and winter's stings
Hanging on right through till spring.


So I guess that's what you are to me -
The very last leaf to leave the tree.
I know it seems silly, but it's true.
When I see that last leaf...
I think of you.


This goes for someone, very special, very true.

Living in the real world.

One of the most common problems people, and some of them close to me, face is that they live in a make believe world. Its a world where they are not treaded upon, they are respected, nothing bad happens, and they are at peace. However this is the worst kind of subterfuge anyone can go through. It tends to block our contact with the real world, makes us snide and full of hate towards it, until the point when people start leaving it. Maybe 'Finding Neverland' is one such movie, which promotes this point, and in a way asks us to be imaginative, to think different. There the child had lost his father, and then his mother, and he starts imagining, about his mother... But is it advisable? No, at whatever cost, we should never lose track of the reality, because it can lead to pschzophrenia in serious cases. Howmuchever we may be despised, hated, ridiculed, there is always some hope. there are friends you can look upto, and ultimately the neverending belief in god. Maybe this was the reason i stopped reading frivolous fiction, like John Grisham, Sidney Sheldon, and moved on to more serious, and in many ways, depressive fiction. It makes me see, that life can be worse, and much worse than our imagination, that is why whichever state we are in, should be thanked for. It has unfortunately made me a sadist, but if given an option, which would you take?
i know that i at least have my bearings attached to the ground...

Sex and the mumbai city...

During the tenure of my summer job, with the times of india, i came to meet a lot of people, specially the younger crowd, people just passing out from 12th and widening their horizons. Since my flirt mode is on 24 hours, i generally commingled with interesting females. Now here i came to see an entirely different breed, existing side by side. And i was perplexed at the difference of perspectives amongst people. At one side i met a group, who was totally into attitude, and 'ya know, i am soo kewl' thing. These females abused freely, liked to 'chill' a lot, and compared making out notes with other people. Obviuosly even i lied about my uninteresting sex life, and we got on well. When i asked their frequency of making out, and the stipulated time period for the first time, one of the females quite proudly said,"i kissed my boyfriend even before he proposed to me!" yours truly, 32 teeth. So i judged that this is the common mumbai crowd, who fornicate a lot, and are cool with everything in life.
Then i met the other extreme, people who had problems in their first kiss, after 8 months of courtship, and very tight lipped about saying the F, S, D and other words. Rolling up their eyes when i said any of the above. But still delightful people, and i think i liked this batch better, somehow somewhere that indian thing kicked in, but i enjoyed. And i was duly impressed, another learning experience.
So which group are you in?

It would be nice to be human again...

A few days back, me and my very good friend mayuri, were talking about maturity. It was one of those kind of conversations, where we are really serious, and try to show how mature we are. But still we talked a great deal, and still there were no answers to some questions, which a normal busy person wouldnt have asked, but people like me love to ponder upon.
What is maturity? i mean, when does a person exactly becomes mature, and in what way?. is it really that important, people say that children are gods gifts. Isnt it because of the simplicity and purity through which they act and think. Of course one cant expect to stay a child all his life, and its not advisable also, but that is not the point of contention here. What i am asking is, is that wether the process of maturity involve degradement of that purity of thought, through experiences of all kinds, until the child becomes ready for the world? that generally involves, losing trust in one an all around us, losing our hopes and expectations, and most importantly the zeal to know and understand things. There can be different cases, people may say its not so with them, but then it isnt possible.
Ultimately we are so preoccupied with the social boundaries and beahvioural modes, that we forget to live for ourselves. Its normally always a desire to be accepted into society, and one who doesnt follow the rules, becomes an outcast. That is when 2 face, and liar, and other such 'upaadhis' are given unto people. By other such people only.
I have been constantly trying to fit in the 2 worlds, being true to myself, and to the people around me, and making it one person. But its difficult, and sometimes i see myself slithering back into that old mould. I guess it will always be a tussle.

Shrimaan Aur Shrimati Smith

Yesterday, i went with a few of my friends for the new movie, Mr. And Mrs. Smith. I think a rule should be made for cinegoers, going for these kind of movies: Statuory Warning: This movie is beyond all logic and reason, and please be suitably high to watch the movie. So after taking the precaution and 2 or 3 joints we got the tickets in black, and sat down to see the movie. Firstly both Brad and Angelina couldnt stop looking glamorous throughout the movie, it was strange, they werent not even trying to be either Mr. OR Mrs. Smith, so in our cornermost, uncomfortable seats, we continued to endure. The movie has its funny moments, and sometimes becomes interesting, but more or less avoidable. A serious let down on my expectations from it.
So we were happy that we took our precautions, u may never know, and now i am waiting for 2 movies, war of the worlds, and batman begins. Hope they are not let downs.