You can do everything you can to avoid it, but sooner or later misfortune in some form or the other will find its way to you. And when it does you can either curse the daylights out of everything that comes to mind, or you can be brave and say -- You know what, I have to fight this thing. I have to move forward and get it out of the way, or else all I'm gonna be doing is standing here cursing. And nobody really gives a shit!  

***

A friend confided in me that her marriage of four years is what most people would call over. Apparently the husband loves his mother a helluva lot more than he loves her. Mommy is first priority and wifey must see to her every need. After four year of being a maid she's had it.  

My take was life is short, so dump the excess baggage and move on. She said you know, it's not easy to just up and leave. Marriage is being like super-glued to a chair: if you try to get up it will either rip your clothes off or leave a very ugly mark, in any case leaving you exposed and/or embarrassed. The stronger the glue the more the damage. 

Then there's this other friend who's doing everything humanly possible to end his marriage. The unbelievable thing is he claims he is powerless to stop. Such a bludy mess!  

***   

Have we become a generation that gives up too easily? On everything and everybody? I think so sometimes. 

Peace, love, and staying power. 

Can I start a crowd funding initiative to help me retire? My story is quite sad. The love of my life dumped me in 1998 and since then all I've done is work like a donkey to save away the little I've been able to save away. It's not a lavish retirement I seek, just the basics - food, alcohol, fuel and a little left over for clothing, travel and utilities. I reckon a crore should about cover it, so let's say a 100 bucks from 100,000 people, that shouldn't burn a hole in anybody's pocket. 

Something that has always fascinated me is what makes a person give their money away. Whether it be to a beggar on the street or to somebody whose child is suffering from a life threatening disease, what is that little device inside your head that decides if it is a cause worth giving to or not? And does it always make rational decisions? For e.g. would a sweet little beggar girl stand more of a chance of getting your money than a gruff looking chap hobbling on one leg who probably needs it more and makes less than the girl anyway?   

Apart from the impact of outward appearances, I guess people need to be convinced that their money is going to be put to good use. Plus you cannot take from them to do something they've been working hard for themselves. Like retire. So instead if I said that I needed a couple of lakhs to do a motorcycle trip across the country, their donations may be more forthcoming. Because then you get them thinking another way, as in -- Hell that's something I'm never gonna do anyway, so might as well help this poor sod do it. Here you go buddy, ride your damn motorcycle to wherever you wanna go! And post lotsa pics on Facebook. But if I had to start by saying I needed money to first buy me a big motorcycle for the trip, they'd tell me to get lost! 

***

Virat and Anushka are no longer a couple it seems. I read somewhere he blamed it on her being a 'controlling' girlfriend. What he obviously doesn't know (yet) is that deep down every woman wants to be in control, even the ones who say they don't. And they're the ones that go crazy because on the outside they have to show the world they're oh-so-cool about letting their man do his thing, but actually not having their finger on the button drives them nuts!

And this poses a problem for the next set of potential Virat girlfriends -- He dumped Anushka for being controlling, now what the hell do we do different? And how long can we keep it up?   

Celebrities are the ones who should be giving away all their damn money if you ask me. Because they waste it on stupid things anyway - like girlfriends they're gonna break up with in six months!

Which is why somebody should start a funding website focusing entirely on celebs, what say? With qualifying criteria and all that. To a point where people actually start to say -- you ain't a celeb till you've made it to Cilaap! That should get the vain bunch of bastards to part with their bucks.  

       

Peace, love, and golden handouts! 

January's gone. And so is Glenn (Frey). News of his death took me on an Eagles nostalgia trip for a couple of days. We grew up on the Eagles. It wasn't the greatest of music, it was more like a nice glass of whiskey after a long day. It made you feel peaceful. And easy. 

***

Things at work are going downhill so fast I think it's useless to even try and hold on. How battered, bruised or dead we will be at the end of it is something I'm trying not to think about. The saddest part is it was completely unnecessary. A change in management and so called strategy has taken a well oiled machine and broken it up into so many pieces nobody knows where anything fits anymore.  

It's like being one of the crew on a ship that's heading straight for an iceberg despite all the warnings. No matter how desperately you want to grab your stuff and jump overboard, the only thing you can do is wait till the inevitable happens and hope for a place in a lifeboat.       

***

I learnt a lesson this month, the hard way needless to mention: Never bring yourself in between other peoples battles. Stay neutral and keep your mouth shut or just get the hell away from them, however much you want to 'help'. Because sooner or later one party will run out of ammunition and use you instead. Which is exactly what happened. And it's a bummer. 

***

So on to February. Somethings gotta give, I keep telling myself. Just hope it isn't me.

Peace, love, and a new kid in town.   

Isn't it crazy how everybody and their grandmother is running marathons these days? If not the whole shebang, those half thingies and dream runs. Why is it even called a dream run I wonder? Perhaps because two months ago you would never have bludy dreamt you'd be running 10 km at a stretch! 

Madness is what I call it. From what I know of the human body there can be nothing more potentially injurious that waking up one day, be it in your twenties even, and realizing you've done absolutely nothing worthwhile in your life, so hey - let me put on those shoes I got real cheap on Jabong and run for it!

I was a terrible runner in school. Nothing screwed me more than running. Sports I loved, the start and stop variety, but start and don't bludy stop till you reach the finish line was not for me. And so when some chaps at work who now call themselves 'runners' asked me to join them, I said, yeah right! If I could not run in my teens, ain't no way in hell I'm running in me forties. But a couple of them went on to complete the half marathon in Mumbai today. Which frankly is quite surprising. Footwear can't have improved that much that a bunch of guys who've never run in their lives before are now doing 21 km in the Mumbai heat!    

And what's with giving people medals just for completing the damn thing? I never got no medal for finishing the 100 metres or even the 800 metres which was a marathon in itself for my poor legs! Whatever happened to winner takes all and no prizes for losing? Because frankly I wonder how many people would still go ahead and compete if they got nothing for participating. Not even the free T shirt! 

***

Start of another damn week. The Starbucks near my office plays the most amazing jazz music - Coltrane, Davis and all the greats. After a long day of corporate drudgery that music late in the evening is like a balm for the soul. Even if I can't afford the coffee, just listening to the music makes me glad that they're around. And it's surprising how many people have asked me - what is this music? Can't blame them if all they're exposed to is Bhangra bludy crap pop and Bollywood. Yes, that's a genre of music these days!  

But Starbucks really have to do something about their pricing. I don't care where their ingredients and shit comes from, 150 bucks a cuppa makes me wanna have a beer instead! 

Peace, love, and more beans for your buck!    

Just like the winds eat away at the mountains over thousands of years, people I once knew as beautiful and strong now look weathered and worn. The winds of life have eaten away at them slowly and deceptively such that they cannot see it themselves, but to somebody seeing them after a while it is clearly apparent. Man you look old as shit, what the hell happened to you? is the first thing you want to say, but then you stop. Maybe I look like shit too.

2015 went by so fast it almost took me by surprise. Holy crap, another one gone! And all I did was work, work, and work. For whom, for what, I don't know any more. The thought of leaving it all and riding away into the sunset crosses my mind every single day. It was made worse by seeing so many people who have been an inseparable part of my life for so many years collapse with the weight and give up the fight. Like a comrade wounded in battle you try your best to carry their weight over your shoulders for as far as you can till your legs start to buckle. At some point you must set them down and carry on alone, which is probably the saddest point in a mans life. When he knows there is nothing more he can do for a friend.

you must leave now, take what you need, you think will last

but whatever you wish to keep, you better grab it fast

yonder stands your orphan with his gun

crying like a fire in the sun

look out the saints are comin' through

and it's all over now, Baby Blue     

It would be nice if we knew for sure it would all end soon. Maybe then we could grab what's important and run, instead of dragging it behind us in a one ton trailer. I wondered what must have been going through the minds of those refugees making their way to Europe last year with only a backpack over their shoulders. But then again perhaps the only way to start anew is to let go of everything you once held precious. 

***

In 2003 it was that I first started this blog. The past few years have seen it die out somewhat, but now I want to resurrect it. Because I have so much to say. And nobody to say it to. 

Peace, love, and a new lease of life.       

     

The beheading of the American journalist was terrible. But there are a lot of terrible things happening around the world. Whether people are killed by bombs, bullets or have their heads cut off, the result is the same: more killing, more war, more despair. Be it for money, power or religion. Like the Game of Thrones, in the end nobody wins.

***

The search for meaning can often be meaningless. And so I don't entirely disagree with people who choose to ignore the bigger picture completely and focus instead on making every day as much of a fun and happy experience as possible. Because if you think about it the big picture can sometimes be very small. And one lifetime may indeed be too short a time to find meaning anyway. As for the lucky ones that do I wonder if finding it is even worth all the years spent looking.  

***

Goa beckons. Haven't been there in the rains since '09. These days there is no off season. The show must go on, even if it is a damp squib.

Peace, love and water sandals.

Isn't it amazing how thick-skinned/shameless Bollywood film-makers are? Singham the first was so unimaginative/run-of-the-mill you could have scribbled the story down the back of your movie ticket stub, and now Singham returns with more of the same bludy nonsense! They should have at least spelt it Siinghham or something to arouse people's curiosity.

You know there are people who actually collect movie ticket stubs. They should get into Bollywood too. Or a lunatic asylum. Pretty much the same thing.

***

Bikini Beach in Goa where people are going to be charged an entry fee. Never going to work. Simply because the largest population of bikini wearers in Goa is currently Russian who are so tight-fisted they'd put the Mangaloreans to shame! And a valid question that's been raised is what will the men on said beach be charged? Those who are not wearing bikinis that is.

Our country gets more and more bizarre every day! Which can be fun at times.

I didn't watch Great Leader's speech from the Red Fort, but I imagine it was all gas. For someone with so much talk, we'd have expected the walk - not the walk, the run - to have started by now. But our man still seems to be looking for his shoes. Something he better find soon or somebody's going to fling a pair at him.

***

Time for my Sunday morning swim. Got me a new pair of figure hugging Speedos that I totally love ... glide through the water like a seal. If only there were some wimmen in bikinis around it would be so much more fun. Most of the wimmen wear some funny looking dress like thing which does a good job of hiding what they should be revealing. But in our country you can't blame them, for it doesn't take long for the seals to turn into sharks.

BFN.

The only thing I didn't like about my very first massage (my first ever, can you believe it?) was having to wear that stupid disposable underwear they give you. Being one of those one-size-fits-all things and considering I'm not the largest size that can fit into them, it had me looking like a baby in diapers. I'd rather have worn nothing. And the guy Bipin was a lot stronger than he looked. Had me in a fair bit of pain he did, but at the end of 60 minutes it felt bludy great. I still don't know why he started off by kneading my bum cheeks for a good ten minutes, but considering it is the single largest muscle in the body I reckoned he knew what he was doing. Good stuff this Swedish massage, thinking I'll get one every month. Oh and Bipin did compliment me on how strong my back and shoulders were, so he's my man.

Many people said it's too expensive (1,700 bucks for a Swedish massage at the Four Fountains) but the way I see it, it's a lot more value for money than pigging out in some restaurant just to shit it all away the next day.

***

We've become a generation that loves to eat, shop and holiday. Most conversations tend to center around one of the three. Which is why I find myself quite alienated from most of my colleagues and friends -- because I can't bludy eat all the time, don't have the patience to shop even if it's online, and can't afford to go on holiday to all those fancy damn places where you get ripped off clean or otherwise have to spend two months researching the best deals in order not to. It's tiring, it's a pain.

So I prefer being home. And just doing my thing. I love my one hour in the gym every morning and my swim on Sundays, my Scotch before dinner (no more desi daaru), the weekend motorcycle rides, hanging out with the boys (or the occasional girl), the quiet life. But this evening I got a call from a friend who is in the music business asking if I'd like to get back into that. I was hesitant at first but then I thought what the hell, if nothing else at least I have an excuse to start playing/practicing again.

Peace, love, and a rub the right way!

Guy at work had this to say about the 'gender diversity' so many companies are promoting like there's no tomorrow: Women who work full time will either have fertility issues or give birth to unhealthy babies who will grow up to be sick children and weak adults. They, like their parents before them, will also either be infertile or have kids who are even more unhealthy than they were, finally resulting in the end of the human race. And so women should stay at home and have healthy babies and perfect their culinary skills so that said babies grow up well fed, rough and tough and the human race can flourish for another ten thousand years.

There's just one problem I told him: What about the men?

***

Gender diversity or no gender diversity, one thing is for sure - our lifestyle is killing us. Killing us softly with no bludy song! And all that talk about work-life balance is humbug. You must work till you have no life left is what it is.

And with that I call it a night. Or a day. Whatever, it hardly makes a difference.

Over the years I have become this sponge that has absorbed so much of other people's life experiences that I have created very few of my own. Which is not to say it has been a completely futile exercise, but a sponge sometime or the other must release what it has absorbed. That is its purpose.   

But the experiences I create must be my own. The though of replicating what I have seen in others is depressing and quite pointless. I cannot be one of those people who fit themselves into a mould: nice house, car, husband/wife, kids, job, life. The perks of the rat race. The perks that are such a great and blinding attraction, people forget how much they have to give up to earn them.         

Which is why I find myself such a misfit. Which is why I need to get out. And go somewhere else.

***

What is it like to have nothing? What is it like to be no one? In a time when everybody wants to be somebody and have it all, this is the question I ask. You never really know until you hit rock bottom. And there I think comes the greatest learning of who you really are. Which is something the rest of us couldn't be bothered with because we have quite happily let others decide that for us. 

***

And so begins a new journey of sorts. Where it will lead me I do not know. But what I do know is that I have very little time. I tried so hard and so long to get on the bus that I didn't see it was the wrong one in the first place.   

Peace, love and late realizations.