Do you ever?

Do you ever think of us,Old, pushing 60, grey haired,Fighting for the paper, sharing spectacles,Bickering over the toilet seat,Or the blanket hogging, when you're cold?

Do you ever imagine us,Beaten, tired, grandparents,Telling the kids you should have married,That kid next door, who ended up rich?And that 'i don't know what I was thinking when I siad yes'

Do you ever see us,Brittle, diabetic, sick in so many ways,
Rembering that I take my pills after breakfast and you after supper?
Panicking when Im short of breath, me, when you complain of pain in your chest?

Telling each other 'you're not going anywhere wihout me'?
And leaving this world to be with you, because I told you to wait, that I'd be there, because I'm just jealous you'll find someone else in the meantime?

Do you ever?
Because I do, and I want it no other way…

Because I love you… old, brittle, tired, maybe… but still mine, and me?
All yours, till I breathe my last

Ajwad

SunBlasters - Its only words that I have

Since I've exhausted all my money... words are all I have to live with. Of course I can't eat them (Hopefully I'll get to that point some day). Over the course of my short life, I've always had this recurring idea. I wanted to make my masterpiece. Something that I could leave behind after I died, but of course, when I thought about it when I was seven, I just wanted to be cool. I have been, unsuccessfully, for the past 22 years of existence, trying to write a book. And its not like I havent tried; Case in point:

The Summer of '99:

We were kids, and didnt particularly like class, so 5 of us decided to do something fun. We were playing Pen-Fight (Its cooler to play, than it sounds) in the lsat bench, when I told Wasi, Abishek and Aswin (My friends from school), that one day the sun is going to become huge and swallow up the earth (I read an article about Red Giants the previous Day). Me and aswin were fond of The hardy Boys and the 3 Investigators, and such novels that starred High School kids. We lived and breathed Frank and Joe Hardy. Suddenly I had a brainwave. We will write a book. A book about 5 (Started with 3 kids, but soon, Muneem and Ranjith joined in) Adventurers, that survive the odds, and stop the sun, before all of mankind was doomed. We called ourselves, The SuN BlAsterS.

We quickly decided on what our roles would be:

Wasi : The strong man - tough on space aliens, with a heart of gold

Aswin and Me: The Brains of the team, extremely Agile - We also got the girls ( Ok so I short changed them : But you know what : "Mera Bat, to meri Batting")

Abishek and Muneem: The Logistical Support; The pilots of our Space Ship (the SB III) and rad riders of the space bikes(Sparrow and Sidewinder).

Ranjith: The most secret secretive spy that we had. Under Cover, silent, stealth operative, who operated in shadowy invisibility.

So the next semester, all we did was occupy the last 2 benches, and think about the plot. Aswin was incharge of writing, I was incharge of ideas, and making the story sound cooler, and do justice to every one's role in SB (ehehehehe!!!). A month passed. We had battled a fleet of mutants on earth, and were currently near asteroid JX-7. The plan was to attach rockets to it, and push it towards the sun, to buy us more time, and maybe attach a nuclear payload to it, to, err, well... Blast the sun (Hey! we had to live the name). Thanks to the meddling of Muneem and Aswin, a 6th person had to join the little team tht I was so protective of. Brian Lara. I said: Brian LARA....? WTF? What? How? But the words had been penned down, and I was the one who said, that which is once written, may not be altered. Any way: So we were on our way to the sun; to blast it.

Word began spreading about our epic adventure. The SB became celibrity in class. People thought we were cool, in actually writing a story about ourselves, and having cool names such as Leutinant Ajwad, and Flight Commander Abishek.

Ranjith was approached by Deepak for their Entry into SB, which was categorically rejected by me. But Wasi... Wasi was angry as hell. Ranjith had broken into and shattered some of the sanctity, and reverence that had once been associated with SB, by even considering a 6th member: As if Brian Lara was'nt enough, I said. A fight ensued between Ranjith and Wasi... and Ranjith was out. It was a shock for all of us. SB could not continue without him. He was part of the original 5. I was broken. My dream, shattered. I felt a weight in the pit of my stomach. That thursday, I bid SB farewell, and so was born, eventually : tHe 4 cLaWs.

The 4 claws did'nt really work out. Spinoffs generally dont. But I had a greater tryst with writing about a year later: Me and Aswin became the 3 I investigators :). Thats a story I shall tell later.

Till we meet again: Laterz and Aadaab

Aj

TR!p_LiC_ATE

Hi guys girls, and the person who just landed down on my page by mistake: Pay heed to my words, Judgement day is coming!!! No, actually, but my monthly Sales Meet sure is. A lot of swearing, a chilled LMN(gotta love that advert), and maybe, If I'm lucky, Some big boned person, to hide and sleep behind.

Its damn hot... (Me also, but currently I'm currently referring to the weather, which by the way, is just plain atrocious). I could not sleep a wink last night despite having the exhaust, which passes as a fan sometimes (winter mostly), even though... I was 'sleeping light' (whats the extreme here? weightless? 'coz I don't want to use the word naked... doh!:s)

I hope it starts to rain soon. Also, I hope that I become a Gazillionaire, and couple of sweet maidens wake me up, bathe me and feed me grapes, while a couple of others fan me: All the time. But things like that rarely happen. So much for the rain.

Somebody once said "A talented tongue will take you places ", and later edited it and said "Flattery will get you everywhere", just so that kinky bastards like you dont read and snigger like you are. Anyway: Its true. I know. God knows how much work I get done by complementing their earrings, or calling their voice sweet. And they fall for it every single time. They know theyre being taken for a ride, and they just go along with it. One minute she'll be telling me how I must not sweet talk her into typing letters for me, and it wont work from now on, and 20 minutes later, she brings me print outs, in triplicate! I really dont mind flattering women to get my deed done. So what... A little white lie never hurt anyone did it? Ok yes: Telling an 87 Kilo woman, that she looked slender is not so much a little white lie... but who cares. Printouts: IN TRIPLICATE!!!

Till we meet again...

aadaab,

Aj

On the go: My Yamaha fz-one-six

Here I am again. Its been 13 days since I bought the bike. Already 1000 kilometers. Its been a different half a month on the roads. Having a new bike means the confidence to do things that you thought were impossible on other machines. Its not called the Lord of the streets for nothing, that's for sure. Amazing responsiveness. Anyway: So now I need a person for my pillion seat. Actually... I so don't have time for that.

She's in Pune... trust me, I call her up and fight with her everyday. I just hate the fact that she is not within reach. I used to be able to see her face everyday, if I wanted to (But even if I did not, the choice kept me content). Now the deal is, she will be back only in May. And what am I gonna do till then...? Ride alone on my mean machine, getting jealous looks from everyone else...? Hell yeah!!! But tell her to come back quick all the same. It ain't the same without her.

The Lord of the Streets ;)

I brought this baby home this Tuesday. It certainly does wonders for my ego thats the size of Planet Jupiter. People turn and look, and look again. If I leave it unattended for about 5 minutes, its surrounded with people, who later ask me questions about its performance and mileage. Traffic signals, parking lots, roads, its the same thing... WOW... thats all I get... bottom line... wait... no bottom line... just get the FZ, you will so not have words.

A washerwoman was walking by...

And I was trying to sniffle away the pain in the ass that is my blocked nose. Forget about the washerwoman... I do not hump anything that moves. Its just an on screen persona. We are all performers, and the world is our stage, and we are but speaking from cue cards, that are filled with who what why and more questions. The song playing in the background would suit movies shot with colorblind cameras... Has anyone even heard "Beete hue lamhon ki kasak saath to hogi"??? I have. Ha!

A funeral procession just went past. With almost your regular hustle that goes into anything. It was pretty much routine. People die everyday, and they are laid to rest everyday. The amount of people that meld into the earth inconsequentially is staggering... probably posting the more ambitious amongst us against tough odds. Well... ultimately... Who will remember you after you're dead? No one... absolutely no one... and I'm not being a cynic... its such a fact of life: Cry one day, sleep on it, wake up and take a dump and brush your teeth, and have breakfast and life goes on and maybe, just maybe theres an occasional "He was a good man"... but thats just because you have to be polite. Time is the creaky, heavy, slow bull dozer, that just keeps... well... bull dozing.

And... by the way... everyone of my fellow countrymen who haven't registered for the elections already... fucking do it already. http://www.jaagore.com. Its your country dude.