Mayhem

A Fitting End To A Very Dear Friend.....

2011-07-15T05:45:00.001-07:00

The visual medium has, undoubtedly, the furthest reach of all possible forms of media.

So while J.K.Rowling's now epic Harry Potter series of books have captivated children and adults for the better part of the last thirteen years, the books would never have had the kind of manic fanbase they have, without the help of a few good men at Warner Bros.

Exactly ten years ago, Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone cast a spell upon the worldwide box office, opening to packed theatres in a multitude of countries, in a multitude of languages. Its immediate fans, kids aged anywhere between eight and eighteen, flocked to theatres in droves, making it one of the biggest hits of all time, almost instantly.

Between then and now, we've had a few inventions that have helped the film achieve and earn its "epicness", so to speak. Sites like Google, YouTube, Facebook and now Twitter have helped propagate Harry Potter's phenomenal appeal. A 10 year old Russian can now share his views with a 39 year old Columbian drug peddler and no one would find anything wrong with it. If anything, it helps bring the world a little closer, one tweet at a time.

Which is why when we see not only #HarryPotter trending on Twitter, but its sub-characters like the plump-but-popular Mrs.Weasly, the weak-but-wise Neville Longbottom and even the kid who lives to be an amalgamation of Harry's greatest influences, his son Albus Severus Potter, we can truly sneak under the blanket this wizarding world has become.

What exactly is it that drives us to believe so crazily in a teenaged kid with magical abilites? That's a question better suited to analysts and psychologists. But as a reader who grew up with (and, partly, because of) the books, and an audience who condemned the slightly-tweaked plot points in the films, I would have to say, at
the risk of sounding rather banal, that there is something magical about it all.

Harry Potter, the little boy who truly lived, isn't your typical hero; he's weak and he's weak throughout. His powers are overshadowed even by his long-time best friend, Hermione, not to mention a whole host of adults who never miss an opportunity to remind us that Harry's 'spell-ular' vocabulary could do with some new additions.
To a true Potterphile, however, the charm (pun intended) lies in Harry's ability to outshine it all. His stance is unwavering, his hurt becomes personal and his fight against the darkest, most ruthless metaphor of evil takes centrestage like no other.

Herein lies the true reason, visible to all, understood by very few. Perhaps, at the end of it all, that's what works in its favour--the knowledge that something is pulling you deeper and deeper into its midst but not being able to pinpoint why your face replaces Daniel Radcliffe's whenever you dream.

So while Harry himself might have taken a backseat, it's soothing to see the more minor characters receive their time under the sun.

And so, with much trepidation and with as much reluctance, this is a final goodbye to a very real, imaginary friend.

Risky, Frisky, Fine....

2010-07-15T01:28:00.001-07:00

Never together, always far,
You take a step forward, I raise the bar;
Moments lie, but photos don't,
I wish I will, I know I won't.
I see, I look, I click, I smile,
You need to experiment with style.
Always the same,
The pink, the red,
What's up with that?
Other colors, dead?
Disciplined laugh and crickety eyes,
Shallow truths and rickety lies.
Arms around a heaven-sent,
Face all mellow, legs all bent.
Can't believe your awesome luck?
Neither can I, you sick shit-f**k.

I found happiness in the details :-)

*****

Me.

Insinuenndo......

2010-03-29T06:46:00.000-07:00

It's a dangerous time to feel alone,
There's musk in the air and pheromones,
Clammy hands and digits wet,
Like Sebastian's mindless wood puppet,
It's a waiting game, there's cold, dead fright,
When the day is dark and the night is bright;
Nothing fits, nothing gleams, nothing is, it only seems.....

There's a Hole In Your Heart.....

2010-01-17T11:35:00.000-08:00

You couldn't have set me free,
You just don't have the power,
The night is mine now, angel,
And this is my finest hour.....

*****

I judged you only yesterday,
I frightened you this morn',
I cast your name in hatred,
Watching you look forlorn.

I loved the hatred on your face,
I loved your fading smile,
Loved how you gave up,
If only for a while.

I could've killed you then,
I wanted to, you know,
Back when you were laughing,
While I lay bleeding in the snow.

Your feet were on a platform,
Your head was in the sky,
I would've made you history,
If I thought you deserved to die.

But no, you need to be tortured,
You need to feel the pain,
Like when I lay thirsting for your love,
And you just left me in the rain.

It drizzled soft that minute,
It started pouring thereafter,
And I lay in the puddles,
In pieces; you, my Master.

I was calling out to you,
I was cold and I was scared,
Watching you walk on, uncaring,
How I felt, fought or fared.....

And now I have you here,
Petrified and at my mercy,
With you as my Medusa,
With me as your Percy.

It's me who holds the Sword,
It's me who harbours hate,
It's me who dares to rattle
And defy the call of Fate.....

I want to watch you panic,
I want to hear you scream,
I want this visual in my mind,
Like a daylight, waking dream.

You're a nympho, I'm a perv,
I'm the dying laughter in your throat,
As I slit it and make you bleed,
Make you cry, make you plead.....

You're a monstor, you're the Devil,
You're the consolidation of my fears,
You're my memories, you're my mirror,
You're the silence after the fog clears.....

There's a hole in your heart,
Through which I slipped right through,
While I imploded upon myself,
To make more room for you.....

Amen.

Consciousness.....

2009-10-15T15:31:00.000-07:00

I'm judging you.

FAIL.

Me.

CRAZY.....

2009-10-15T15:28:00.001-07:00

Twisted, broken, lame and confused,
Battered, shattered, overused.
Semantics, signs and fineprint lines,
Buried in shadow in long-dead mines.

Fissures, caves, black snake holes,
Machetes, maces, barb-wire poles.
Canabbis, Crack, Pot and Weed,
A lil' bit o' Speed and a whole lotta need.

Races, faces, black-white-brown,
Fading smile and the Forever frown.
Agents, whores and sleazy pimps,
Cowards, traitors, sissies, wimps.

Water, pith, spit and bile,
Shark, piranha and crocodile.
Seven, thirteen, eight and four,
Wars and words, slam the door.

Monstors, ghosts and poltergeists,
Robbers, thieves and daylight heists.
Rapists, murderers and scarlet ooze,
Crystal Meth and lots of booze.....

Manic, panic, naked fear,
Pervert's pout and lecher's leer.
Conscience, guilt and second chance,
Grave disaster and the Undead dance.

Rage, anger, berserker mood,
The Devil and the Titan brood.
Religion, God, the Holy Grail,
One love, off the rail.....

Amen.

Instant Karma.....

2009-10-15T14:48:00.000-07:00

I'm wondering just how much time's gone by.

I lost count at forever.....

*****

"Crazy" doesn't really describe it.
"Weird" isn't the word I'm looking for.
"Wtf" might be close, but still nowhere near.

I need a smoke-break.

Brb.

*****

You said the word "promise" like a million times.
Like a question, as well as like a reassurance.
I wonder if words can go to hell. Coz if they can, yours're torturing Satan.

*****

I've got a feeling, that tonight's gonna be a good night.....

I should start listening to myself.....I still remember last year, February.....I felt the same thing.....and look where it got me (for a while).....

Say those three, amazing words to me....."In a relationship".....and watch me crumble and die.

You should've told me before you spoke to me, how DARE you fucking talk to me? I can't believe I'm tainted.....SICK.

*****

Your parents scolded you for using the wrong four-letter word.

"Fuck" is God's way of making you laugh.
"Hope" is Satan's way of laughing.

Turn off the lights, darling, I got me some hating to do.....

*****

Fly like to you do it, like you're high, like you do it, try like you do it like a woman.....

*****

I want you.
I need you.
Imma get you, woman, Imma get you right.....

To this, I put my name.

*****

Harshvardhan.

The Insanity Defense.....

2009-07-27T05:01:00.000-07:00

Tonight, as the storm
Pervades all that is whole,
I find the water within me.
I can see the raindrops
Fall from my eyes, through
The tears of an obsessive
Lunacy; obsessive because
I summon it, time and again,
For only in that state do I feel
Sane, I feel superpowered,
Indelibly charged with the
Little grains of a hope
Which cannot be demeaned,
Which cannot be diminished,
Which, surely, cannot be defeated.
I watch the sodden sandstone,
Watching it crumble in my grasp,
The only clue to the Power I have,
Enclosed within the walls of Will,
A prison to which I have no key;
I rule a Kingdom with no boundaries,
But, without a throne, without a crown,
I am just another metaphor for "desire",
I am just another simile, as alike or
As different than a dove with clipped
Wings; I am broken, but even the crystals
Of my shattered being sparkle in the
August moon, their very presence instilling,
What I believe, is an almost animal, hungry faith.

Fear is my Lord, it makes me mortal.
Logic is my bane, it makes me human.
Love is my flaw, it makes me perfect.....

Me.

Rabbit Fire.....

2008-09-03T13:31:00.000-07:00

I'm in a good mood after a long, long time. Can't really remember when was the last time I genuinely smiled--until now.

Maybe it's coz I'm back home--maybe it's coz I'm back home after blowing up a decent eight grand of my own money--maybe it's coz it took me less than half a minute to make up my mind to return home.

Or maybe it's just coz I'm a retard and have no idea what's going on. I'm inclined towards this, actually. :-D

Hmmm, about seven hours ago, I was sitting in "bachelor pad" in Mumbai and wondering where the hell my life was taking me--film school out the window, then back in again; she wasn't speaking to me (or I wasn't speaking to her--can't really remember); I was lost without her; her.....

That was it, I guess. It was probably the second most important reason for me to've thrown everything into that huge trunk I can't seem to get rid of and jet-setted (no pun intended) a thousand plus miles.

Weird? I agree.

She means so much to me. In fact, she means everything. That might sound SO goddamned cliched (sue me), but I'm pressed for energy here, mate. Need a shot of vodka and a pack of Milds just to keep me steady. Ha. Ha. Ha. Just kidding (I wish).

Back to her; well, why don't I have her? I'm like a lil' kid who wants that action figure in the window--and when he's persuaded his Mum to buy it for him, he wants the one in the next window, too. Tweak the situation up a bit, add a few domestic, everyday villains, a couple of approriate songs and you've got yourself an A-grade romantic thriller type film.

I come up with the weirdest things sometimes.

Damn, I changed the topic again again. Her...who is she? Nope, you ain't getting it outta me (do I hear loud groans of massive disappointment?). But I WILL tell you this--she's the one which that post, "The Mother of the Sun", is all about.

Truth is, my friend, I'm going bonkers. I speak to her very often, I worship her like she's something outta the Holy Books (yeah, ALL of 'em--that much, so screw you, Jimbo), I fall in love with every one of the [what I'm guessing are] playfully abusive words, hoping she'll spout more "venom" and prolong our conversation by those precious few seconds....yes, I'm a scavenger and I've no qualms admitting that--I'll beg for scraps, yes Ma'am, I will.

But I don't even know what I want--I know if I ever get her, I'll never be able to make her as happy as I want her to be; I want every waking moment of her life to be one wild, ecstatic ride; I want her to be the eternal sunshine on everybody's mind; I want her to be the the like the smile on a newborn's face, 'soon as he sees his mother; I want her to notice only the good things in life and automatically change all the not-so-good things; I want her to believe that there's nothing that can hurt her and I wanna be the one to be able to prove that to her; I want her friends to be by her side and make her smile and I wanna watch it happen (I know for a fact that she's happiest around them and they, around her); I just wanna be a small part of her life.....that'll be my BIGGEST achievement.

See? So many responsibilties--how'll I ever manage? I'll need three of me just to come up with these semi-original thoughts about her, again.

I can't survive without her coz I don't know any other way in life.

It's been five awesome years, Rabbit, I just can't do without you--as a friend, as my life, as everything great I know--most of my present, happy memories revolve around you (if not all).

Funny part? You KNOW just how crazy I am about you, I know you know.....I just wish you'd lemme tell you MY way--then you'd know how much I've hidden. I might smile, I might laugh, I might purposely "make things awkward", but what you don't see is the willpower that goes behind it--the power it takes to not burst out in a cheesy song every time I hear your voice, the power it takes to not send you the most exotic gifts at your doorstep, the power it takes to not land up on your doorstep, the power it takes to not call you up every second of the day and hear you laugh, hear you tell me about that orange sari of yours, hear you tell me what Sarthak did today and what Bhanu'll do tomorrow.....you have no idea. And, the way things're going, I doubt you ever will.

I'm happy, though--as long as you are, I always will be.

[Though I still can't believe I have to use Shahid as bait to lure you, Shahid's untidy signature to somehow get to meet you, Shahid as an excuse to just speak to you.....but it's ok, I didn't expect anything to begin with (I know you'll say something like "so don't crib, na")].

Rabbit, I can't stop loving you.....

.....and you know what? I wouldn't have it any other way, either.

I've loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you; I may not have met you for years, but that smile still lingers in my dreams, the smile of a truly, truly happy girl. I will never forget it. I will never forget you.

Keep smiling :-D

Mostly About Music.....

2008-07-23T02:27:00.000-07:00

The following is the first post that hasn't been written by me at all.

It's just that the way this piece's been written is nothing short of a wonder. Every time I read it, I realize that the author is one helluva talented being....if only she'd listen to me :-D

I won't mention her name, I'm not sure if she'd like me advertising her all over. So I'd rather quote her anonymously.

But man, I wish I could write like her....

Here goes:

[When they told us, to find a quote to represent in a 2-D form, I could'nt have possibly found anything, that was not related to Music.

You more than just hear music. You feel it, touch it, taste it. It takes you completely till you don't know where you are. You get entangled in the lyrics, every word turning into something real. It's an addiction, a drug, that you can't give up, one that you don't want to either.

Music is the safe kind of High.

The quote I picked was 'Music is what feelings sound like.' I had about twenty other quotes, but when I came across this one, I had this strong urge to sketch it out. It was so visual, involving spirals, wavy lines, unclear forms, sillhouettes, a lot of red and a lot of emotions.

My want to make everything Black&White, didn't quite work out in this. It pushed me to another question. What colour is Music? After doing hours of colour theory, submitting a dozen assignments on mixing paints, this left me stumped. Is it in greyscale? Or is it a rainbow? Or does it run around tints and shades of one colour?

Aaa, design is frustrating.

I put everything aside for one hour, picked up a paper and pencil, and started writing. Writing about the quote. The music I love, the bands that ran through my mind, that note thats been stuck there for the longest time.

Scribbled in the corner of the page were the words 'did it hold you, like it held me? Make me believe theres more? Thats what Music does.'

It was paired with a song, which made me feel connected to another person. The first song we heard together. A song, which when it played, I get hot and cold at the same time. This is what music does.

When we sing together, we all have a different voice. The instrument has a different voice. But it sounds so in sync with each other, it drifts you away. Singing parts, with another person, of a favourite song, without practice, with such ease, as if we did it every day of our lives. We're all doing our own thing, but its still so together. The song ends as if a smile.

Music IS what feelings sound like. If you've ever gotten so lost in music, that you go beyond yourself, even for that One song, then you'll know what Im talking about. ]

See what I mean?

Rock on....

The Mother of the Sun.....

2008-05-17T08:15:00.000-07:00

She's the only one who holds the key,
To this iron lock that's chaining me....
She's got this flashy, brilliant smile,
That puts all laughter out of style.

See, there's this girl I know. I won't take names, but she'll know who she is the moment she reads this.

Yeah, so getting back to this girl. She's so weird, man. She's just so plain weird. (Ha! Sorry!)
The problem with her is this: she doesn't realize how amazing she is. If I call her names (her own, for instance) she doesn't understand what I'm really saying. She'll keep on asking me what I mean when I call her an ***** (no, not an abuse, though sometimes you can use it to irritate her ;-D). I can never answer........

But how do I tell her?

How do I tell her that it means the world?
How do I tell her it means things far more beautiful than she can ever imagine?
How do I tell her that it means she's sweeter than sugar, spicier than spice and nicer than everything nice?
And how, most importantly, do I tell her that she's the one person in this world who's capable of "making it a better place"?

Random thoughts:

1.) She's so funny. She doesn't even realize it. Everything she says is one hilarious bundle of words.

2.) She's beautiful beyond words. She's seriously the most beautiful girl I've ever known. And I'm NEVER saying that to her face.

3.) She's an ***** (!)

4.) She's someone who can brighten up a dark room by just maaroing one of her crazy comments.

5.) She's a Mad Rabbit.

Some not-so-random thoughts:

1.) Intelligent hai, par thodi si paagal bhi hai.

2.) Actually, poori tarah se paagal hai.

3.) She's got this absolutely whacky choice in films. She likes the kinda stuff that was made in the '90's. Yeah, THAT bad. But that only makes her better.

4.) She's the most caring person I've seen. It's so genuine. You can hear it in her voice when she talks about her friends. You know that every word that's coming out of her is meant with 100% heart.

5.) She's an ***** (again, !)

You know, this is really weird. I've known her so long now (5 years, this Feb) and yet I don't know her that well. And this is even more strange: she's suddenly become one of my closest friends. Crazier still: I trust her more than anyone else I know (including people I've known all my life) and even then I hesitate to tell her anything (for instance, she'll ask me why I'm in a bad mood and I'll never be able to tell her. I wonder why).

She's a wonderful concoction of perfection.
She's a mixture of madness and a shot of serenity.
She's a bundle of bubbles,
She's the solution to all troubles,
She's the twinkle in the sky,
She's the 'good' in every bye....

That last line was pathetic. But hey, I'm tired. I guess I'm allowed a few priviledges.

Haha....well, you know who you are and now you know a few things I'm never gonna say to your face. There're a billion more of these and those, too, you'll never know.

But then, again, that's the whole point..... ;-D

18 Till I Die.....

2008-04-28T03:01:00.001-07:00

Addiction....Elixir.....Enigma.....Alone.

For what felt like a lifetime, I sat there. My backpack below me, my legs stretched out, my mind focussed on Bryan Adams--on what felt like the perfect song. . . .18 Till I Die. . . .
Friday. April 25th, 2008. Eighteen. Me? Unbelievable.
Juhu beach never looked so appealing. Sure, there were guys offering me their "services" (nope, not those kinds--"champi", maalish-vaalas, etc.), there was litter on the sand, the place smelled like a graveyard for fishes....but I was eighteen and everything else was inconsequential. Today, eighteen years ago, I became. (Ha, rather tongue-in-cheek this, but I thought of myself as The Boy Who Lived).
It was time for a little self-indulgence: I whipped out my camera and snapped myself (and despite crowning myself the unofficial King of all Narcissicts, I'm ashamed to admit that they will never see the dark of a room--darkroom, for those of you chumps who didn't get it--it was the light! Or lack of it!).
I was smiling. I'd done everything I always did on my birthday. I'd stayed up all night attending calls (they really DO love me), cut a cake and shared it with people (thank you, ma'am--you know who you are;-D), gone for a movie (I didn't watch it, but I'm hardly to blame for that episode. Remind me to tell you about it sometime), and felt good about life (for a change).
I looked around to share my mirth--and realised I was all alone. And you know what? God really is a DJ--because the song quite instantaneously changed to Akon's [wondefully-apt-for-this-darned-situation] "Lonely".
Juhu beach never looked more disgusting. There were sweaty guys offering me their "services" (draw your own conclusions), the damned sand was littered with rotting food, the place smelled like a damned graveyard for fishes (yep, THAT bad).....and my birthday was suddenly of no consequence. Mumbai Mirrored......
And I sat there, 18 Till I Die set on repeat, silence surrounding me. Oceans piss me off (I might have mentioned that elsewhere) and the Arabian Sea was no exception. I won't bother with flowery adjectives describing the waves. They stank, period.
Thirty metres from the shore, I sat and got bored. She called, He called, They called. My voice laughed throughout, my face scowled at every word. They had no right to be happy and cheerful. Only I did. Screw the damned bitches. Pardon my French.
Midnight struck, but I was no Cinderella. I had no glass shoe to lose. I had no pumpkin carriages. I had nothing to cherish in memory. No, my reality would continue, I would scowl into tomorrow, I would snap into the morning, I would......you get my point.
I turned my back to the beach.
I turned my back.
I couldn't resist one last look. . .I hesitated. I swung around, annoyed at my failing resolution, though secretly craving that one look.
Juhu beach never looked so appealing.......

And The Winner Is.....

2008-03-08T07:50:00.000-08:00

Twenty questions......ten answers. Do the math.
***
Serene and witty, on the one side. Dark and depressed on the other. Two faced bitch? No, I think there's more to her.
She's got a lot of things to hide. Her wild side, for instance. I haven't really seen it yet. Glimpses, yes, but she seems tentative, almost scared to reveal herself. She makes me curious. I try to read her mind but there's so much blocking my way. Her defences are almost scary in their wrath, though at a distance they don't exist. I'm fascniated.
I gaze at her features rather timidly, I'm afraid she'll notice. And if she does, if she realizes she's in the spotlight, there goes my chance. The shell which had just about begun to crack will reseal and "de-evolute"....back to square one? No.....there's won't be any squares left.
I was hoping she'd bite the bait. . . I reached out my hand and I thought, fleetingly, she would hold it. And I might be mistaken, correct me if I'm wrong, but she did consider it. In the end, though, I was left limping my way back home--scarred, defeated and completely at a loss as to what I should do next.
I let three days slide before I confronted her point blank. With cheap styrofoam cuppas heating things up, I broke the ice: I asked her if the coffee was good. She smiled and said it wasn't. Ah well, you can't win 'em all.
Haha, it's been fifteen days and I still don't believe my luck. I got her to open up, got her to speak, got her to realize the world isn't full of monsters. . . well, at least not all of it.
And you know what pleases me most?
Turns out she's more confused about life than even i am;-D

All About Me.....

2008-01-17T05:57:00.000-08:00

I thought I'd swear off a lot of things, this year. Late New Year resolutions, I guess. I swore I wouldn't procrastinate, swore I wouldn't daydream, swore I'd throw my phone away, swore I wouldn't swear so much.

Damn it all.

I'd catch myself thinking too much. Analysing myself all the time. I'd stand in front of the mirror and curse my reflection. I'd love to be seen but not exist at the same time. Remove myself and live life third-person. I'd love all that--maybe because I'm imperfect. Far more imperfect than others. Far removed from a reality I crave for. My reality is different. My reality's insane.

You can't see me.

I'm not who you think I am. You know me for who YOU think I am. You know me for what I show you. The question is, what is it, exactly, that I show you?
Let's analyze me. I'll be a good subject, I promise. I might even be mildly entertaining.

Hmm......I AM. That's a decent beginning. Yes, I'd definitely say that "I AM".
I speak a lot. I like words. They interest me.
I don't move my hands as much as other people do. Hey, that might even make me "different". That's nice.
I walk while I talk. Simple.
I have secrets I wouldn't like to share but am inevitably compelled to do so. Remind you of someone?
I like people who don't get too close. I don't like people who maintain distances.
I don't like the water. Oceans piss me off. They're pretty in pictures but that's as close as I like them.
I like the concept of life. It just needs a bit of editing.
I can name the things I hate faster than the things I love.

Am I as imperfect as i make myself out to be? You tell me.
Am I right to analyze myself? You tell me.

Till then, I'm in flux. Confused. I don't care about who I really am, but I care about what you think of me. I'm not vulnerable to your comments, but I am scared of myself. I'm an amalgam of thoughts I really wish weren't mine.

But that's who I am. That's what you won't see.