Marriage is a huge deal. Every one says that it is, no one ever tells you how big it actually is. If you are reading this, I’ll try to tell you how big it is (from my perspective). If I ever had a chance to live-in with my wife, before getting married to her, I’d never marry her. Ofcourse that is a very selfish way of putting it, but I am pretty sure she would also never go through the pain she’s been through. I know for sure that she’d be a lot happier if she got a husband in one of my best friends who put their better half above all.
But then, that’s how life is…You wake up the next morning and then it is another day, and we carry on.
I’ll explain the pain I went through. Remember, I am not a nice person. I am selfish to the brim, and to care for another person is not my bones. What I care for, the most, is about my ambitions, about my self interests…and marriage is all about...

My dad shivered from one corner of the country and told me about the demise of my grandfather, as a range of emotions crossed me. My dad was shattered, suitably. And because he was shattered, so was I. But we saw it coming. Last month when I went home, grandfather would go through phases of illness. Sometimes he’d be fine, sometimes he’d mumble…he’d ask me to take his stuff, I told him I would.

He’d see me and feel great about it. That old man, full of stories. Not all stories he’d tell were bearable. In fact some of them were outright derivations of our mythology which is nothing but an account of our corruption. The great Indian society built on morals and hypocrisy. And so would be our character and us.

~

He was suffering, no doubt. Unable to walk, getting psychotic attacks, mumbling things irrelevant. He was 86. I told my dad I’ll be there tomorrow, to which he refused. He wants...

I was in a car yesterday. How normal is that? It is quite normal, isn’t it? I was hanging out with some of my old college mates. How normal is that? It’s quite normal, isn’t it? I went to a couple of pubs, last night. How normal is that? For me, it isn’t. I am not quite an all partying, all dancing kind of a person. An amazing girl amongst us said yesterday we’ve all gotten old, now. I guess I got old the day I was born. A week less than 26 years ago.

An old soul, full of regrets, in a young ultra energetic body. I loved the ambience of the second pub cum discotheque. It had a small dance floor. First pub, not quite. But the second one was one of the dimmest, most soothingly lit places I’ve ever been to. Also, it was a place full of energy. People venting out their hidden frustrations onto their surroundings. Enjoying, drinking, and forgetting, and trying, really hard, to find phone...

I love rains. It lightens me. I look at it and see, thoughtless, I admire how beautiful it is. Rainfall, in technical terms, reduces film grain in reality. It takes dirt out of reality, and real life objects like window panes, car surfaces, leaves, grills, and other such things are washed out. Roads become more reflective. Roads reflect light shown on them by the headlights of the cars and motorcycles ridden on them.

But there are flip sides too. In India, since drainage systems aren’t quite effective, considerable rainfall can clog the roads. So there are chances if you walk by the roads you land yourself into trouble…by stepping on a puddle. Puddles are everywhere if you walk. I don’t mind puddles. They are dirty, slippery, you don’t quite know what you are stepping on unless you actually do. Sometimes puddles camouflage a crater or an open manhole. Or, in other words, puddles...

At times, I think, I overthink, about stuff. But I am going through a dilemma whether I should get married or not. Marriage is not just about finding a biological companion. It’s also about, I think, moving on, stepping forward, and hardening up. I am blank right now. But I want to talk about this. If you ask me if I am ready to get married, then the fact is, I was ready about six months ago. But I am waiting, waiting for something to happen. Something to happen before I give up. Give up to my parents’ wishes.

One day a friend told me girls these days do not get married to a groom arranged for her who earns less than (₹) one million per annum (or, he’s not working outside India). I agree it’ll be better to manage finances for a family of two, just-in-case, the girl is not working or is unwilling to be employed. But that’s also a strange scenario. In that case, I am not getting married...

The problem is, being a voyeur. Yes, all of us are voyeurs. Perverted, filthy, privacy intruding voyeurs. But anyway, you get old, and weak, and mean, and strange. You do things to piss off others around you. Retirement is a horrible thing. You need people you can depend on. I don’t want to get old like that.

At home, I look at my parents, and my grandfather. My grandfather is full of useless stories and stringent, passionate idealism that has, probably, stood in the way of progress and development. Both, at the personal level, and, if generalized, at the national level. I mean, why would you talk about Akbar and Shershah and Ram and Laxman all the time? You just want to say something, and don’t want to be counter questioned. You want to win. Like always. Win at some strange level every time. Be the only one who’s right. Considering his age, we don’t reply. We just listen, and leave it...

Oh man… This IT and software industry business. The problem, right now, I am facing here is: Deliverables. If you have worked in IT and software, you know what a deliverable is. Now, here’s the deal: I have a deliverable. Or, rather, if I were to precisely describe my situation: I have 40 videos as a deliverable. Um, I have deliverables in English language, and I need to get some of the text localized in eight languages. My deliverable set includes 5 videos. All of them to be localized in eight languages. So that becomes 40 videos. These 40 videos need to be completed by August 29th. Because September 1st, I am flying. I am going to my hometown.

The bigger problem is, I am not even halfway through what I need to do. And, I HATE to do what I have to do. So the reluctance level is maximum. Now, I am scared, that I’ll not be able to do it in time. There is a possibility of still finishing...

This life is way too wayward. Now that’s another thing to consider that my life is absolutely ordinary. Which means, it’s also disinteresting. I have a job, in IT/Software, and I got a good salary package…and all that, but here’s the deal: there are many days I hate waking up and going to work. I hate being alive, and I hate being employed. I am working because, well, my parents want me to…so that I can keep myself on my feet. My parents want me to have a simple life…but there’s no such thing called a simple life. I am sold, and the only thing I really got, for myself is: truckloadfull of bullshit. Suicide has become an option, I am wandering like a fool in spaces, and places looking for purpose, but, seriously, there is no purpose…whatsoever.

Oh the goodness of all, I am tired. I want to quit, to do something else altogether.

The above content was written on a day I was going...

I am in my room. On the mattress. With a stomach that behaves strangely these days. I haven’t had proper food in months now. I am a simple man. I go to work, eat there, on weekdays. On weekends, I eat at food joints. I am lazy. I want to fix my career, which I feel is severely broken. But I can’t really help. Because a job is, in fact, keeping me away from suicide.

The only thing (I don’t know how my brain is getting degraded, I got confused between think and thing) I can feel is, my body getting degraded from the inside. I can feel my stomach, my heart, and my head. More often than I should. I am alarmed. But I avoid hospitals. Because, I am avoiding suicides anyway. The strange truth is, I know my body is degrading. But I am helpless. I am already strangled into gratefulness. Already, that I have come to realize that my life is no longer mine. And if it ends, so be it. It is better. I...

एक दिन कॉलेज के ऑडिटोरियम के सामने वाले डायस पे मैं, मेरे रूममेट संजीव, राजीव, और दो दोस्तों, प्रियदर्शी और राहुल शर्मा, ने बैठक लगाई. ऐसा होता है लाइफ में, की बकवास करने का और समझने का कोई तात्पर्य नहीं होता है. पर बकवास करनी होती है. हर कॉलेज में एक जमावड़ा केंद्र होता है. वो बदलता रहता है, आवश्यक्तानुसार. कभी IT Park की सीढियां, कभी ऑडिटोरियम के सामने वाला डायस. हमारे 3100 लोगो को बिठाने की औकात रखने वाले ऑडिटोरियम के सामने तब एक मैदान था. वहाँ Bombay Rockers और श्रेया घोषाल जैसे कलाकार आके हमारे विश्वविद्यालय के (तब) 50,000 विद्यार्थियों का मनोरंजन करने के लिए आया करते थे. उनकी फूटी किस्मत होती थी, जो वे यहाँ थे. वे आते थे हमारा मनोरंजन करने पर हमारे यहाँ कलाकारों की कद्र कुछ ख़ास थी नहीं. मंच तक लोगो का प्रोत्साहन पहुचे न पहुचे उनके पत्थर ज़रूर पहुचते थे. श्रेया घोषाल ने तो ये तक कहा था, “guys, when I said we’ll ‘Rock The Show,’ I didn’t expect you guys will literally do it.” ख़ैर...