Doing the right thing is so damn hard at times. So damn hard.

***

Played guitar after so long at a friends place last week. Can't believe how rusty I've become. But they loved it all the same. Goldilocks called my little performance a 'treasure'. Nobody's ever called it that before, but come to think of it music is one of the most precious gifts I have. Without it I'd pretty much be dead.

Not sure how many of you been watching the The Stage on Colors Infinity. Amazing how much vocal talent there is in our country. If only we could write them songs. Last season it was Soundarya and Kamakshi who had me captivated and now it's Sharvi and Aishwarya. Sharvi is wonderful and I'm pretty sure she's gonna win it, but Aishwarya, she's the dark horse. Problem is she's not the girl for every song, which is what the contest seems to be looking for. But when she's in her element, she can rip the pants off anybody. Like when she sang Birdy's Skinny Love. Birdy's been a favourite of mine for a long time now, but with her rendition of Skinny Love I dare say Aishwarya kicked her ass!   

***

Seeing Chelsea send United to the cleaners this evening was good fun. People ask me who I support and I say nobody. I've been watching English football since the late 80's way before cable TV popularized the European leagues here, so I find it a little weird when people tell me they're Chelsea or United supporters. Because when I ask them why, why United and not say Crystal Palace (which back in the day were a pretty solid team), they usually don't have a very good answer. Which is why I reckon Leicester City's success last season left many so called 'supporters' of the bigger clubs in something of a quandary: should we stick with them or proclaim our support for the Foxes? And more importantly, what do we do with the Chelsea and United jerseys now! 

 
Skinny Love by Aishwarya Suresh. You're a star, girl!

In my view he is the greatest songwriter of our generation. And long after he is gone he will be remembered as the greatest songwriter that ever lived. Because his songs are more than just songs - his songs are anthems that have left a mark on the lives of millions. Whether he deserves the Nobel Prize for literature I really can't say given my limited knowledge of literature, however if the Nobel Committee were hard-pressed to find somebody more worthy, I'd say they chose one hell of an  alternative!      

***

I love the BBC radio mobile app. For one it's got me listening to the World Service again, something I would do for hours on my dad's shortwave radio when I was a kid. And surprisingly it's still pretty much the same: I always marveled at how they'd go to all corners of the earth bringing you stories and giving you insights into stuff you'd never have known otherwise. Sadly it's also the same in how much killing and destruction and desperation there is prevalent around the world. Thirty years and so little has changed. What are we as a race doing to ourselves?

And tomorrow the rest of us will go back to our jobs, to toil away like ants. As if there is nothing in the world that can harm us or cut our lives short. When in fact there is danger lurking all around, above and beneath, inside and out. Such stupid little creatures we are.

***

There is a girl I want to fall in love with. I see her at work every day. And she sees me. And somehow I get the feeling she's thinking the exact same thing I am: What's the point?             

To fall in love with you. Bob Dylan. The one and only.

I'm willing to bet Donny Trump woke up late one morning after a heavy night of partying, groping and all the things he loves to do and said to some bimbo in the room, -- Hell, that was fun! But I wanna do something REALLY crazy. What do you reckon, honey? And she after putting her mind to it for a second went, -- Maybe you should run for President!

The next thing you know some of the more knowledgeable staff were summoned and asked: Who do we have running for President in 2016? And the answers would have been Hillary and a bunch of other geezers nobody knows. And then Donny must have thought to himself: You know what, this could be just like that time in sixth grade when I stuck my finger in Bethany's birthday cake right before she could blow out the candles! Hell, that's what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna stick my finger in Hillary's goddamn cake!

Donald Trump doesn't want to be President. Simply because when you have everything a man could possibly want without being accountable to the people, you'd have to be a complete nut head to go and put yourself out there. And a nut head he most certainly is not. No Sirree! All he wants to do is turn the race for the most powerful office in the world into one very big joke. Or in his case a series of little jokes, from building a wall to keep the Mexicans out, to refusing entry to Muslims, to Obama's birth certificate, and most recently about the nasty things he likes to do to the ladies. 

Funny thing is Trump is not the only one laughing. A lot of people are. While a lot of others are getting mad. Which is usually what happens when you make a joke that isn't politically correct. And Donny sure as hell ain't no politician!  

***

Big Presidential debate tonight. Too late for us unfortunately. But if I were living in a friendlier time zone, I'd call the boys over and pop a few drinks while letting Donny provide the entertainment. He hasn't said anything about the Indians, I wonder why. Maybe he's saving the best for last. Let's wait and see.      

Peace, love and surprise endings!

I hate bludy dentists. Because they rarely have good news to give you. If fact it's almost like they exist only to give you bad news. It's so horribly depressing when after six months of brushing three times a day and flossing and treating your teeth like they were the bludy crown jewels, he takes a look inside your mouth for exactly ten seconds and goes, oh ... ohh ... not good. And you're like, tell me fucker, what is it!?!     

But he will take his time. With that stupid little mouth mirror of his. When was your last visit? Without waiting for you to answer, he will swivel his chair around to look at your dental record, as if it doesn't matter if your last visit was yesterday. 

Err ... about six months back, you stutter, disappointed. But still he won't break it to you. Then slowly, the first blow. You will need at least three appointments. Followed by the knock out punch. Four fillings and one root canal ... maybe two!        

At that point it's almost like they suppress a loud bwahahahahahaha!! While you go, nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!

But there's nothing you can do. Except maybe make a sad face and hope he will give you a discount!   

***

GAP opened its first store in the city yesterday. The desi edition somehow does not seem worth the money. And as far as the jeans are concerned, they seem to have not taken into account one very important fact about us Indians: If we're paying 5 grand for a pair of jeans, we need to say it loud! One little tab on the behind that says '1969' will not simply cut it. I even saw one bloke looking at the label and wondering what the hell 1969 was. Perhaps the only thing that would have made a difference is if it was the year of his birth. That would have been okay.   

Conversely you have some brands that take it a bit too far. Ever seen those broad underwear waistbands with the brand name on it? I don't get that. I guess it started with Calvin Klein but theirs don't look so bad. It's quite a sight though when you see a guy bending to tie his shoelaces only to get a glimpse of his dirty grey or dark orange knickers with CHROMOZOME in bold! Yuck! Something like this. 

I buy mine from M&S. Yes, you didn't need to know that. The women's lingerie section at M&S looks like one big candy store, doesn't it? Yeah, I seen some very happy wimmen prancing about in there!    

***

Check out Putumayo World Music if you got nothing else to do this Sunday. Found it when I started looking for Colombian music on YouTube after a marathon session of watching Narcos. I tell you in the next life I want to be born South American! Hijo de puta is what I will call my dentist!

The music of Colombia. Great stuff!      

The Barcelona Gipsy Klezmer Orchestra plays in the background as I type this at a half past midnight. Music that I find completely tantalizing. The underplayed energy of vocalist Sandra Sangiao along with the magnificence of Robindro Nikolic on clarinet is a treat to the ears. 

***

Something I've come to realize this year is how seriously messed up so many of the people I know are. Not that I hate them for it or love them any less, but it has made me retreat more and more into my state of lonerliness. Yes, that's a word  I coined for myself. To describe someone who at the end of the day realizes he's happiest being a loner but misses the company all the same.   

But how do people get so messed up? Is it that they just don't know what the hell they want in life, or are they simply that impatient to get whatever it is they do want, they end up in a very bad place. A place difficult to get out of or away from.  

***

The years have hardened me I think. Because I am turning into that person who can sympathize with another but at the same time just doesn't care. You dig your grave you lie in it, as my father used to tell us. It is not my job to get you out of it or to breathe life into you. Because honestly I'm having a hard enough time staying alive myself.

Does that make me a bad person? Maybe it does. Or maybe I am just a little messed up myself. 

***

To keep playing the same record I usually do, I don't know how January and February turned into bludy October. Another year nearly wrapped up. Once again with reused wrapping paper.  

Djelem djelem. 

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.