i dont think sea & rock works. too rough. i prefer the wind & the rock. long slow changes, each influencing the other. so let me just write this out on an impulse, before i think its too bad.

she. she just needs to be there. flawed like a broken marble. Or smooth like a polished marble. it does not matter. she just needs to be there. she has to be there, running her fingers over the rough big rock which lies on the mountainside. she can see the rock for the unshaped gangly thing that i am. or feel the smooth edges, shaped by time. if she whispers, the rough become smooth and the smooth becomes rough. there is no ego in me. how can i harbour any ego when she is my wind? if she wants i can become a rolling stone. or a big rectangular boulder, holding its ground. anything she wants me to be. i want to just listen to her. and then be that rough boulder, she might cut her hands with, as she runs her hand over the rock. i will end up hurting her, like i hurt others. flawed. but i will be her rock. and she will be my wind. her hair deciding which way the leaves will sway, as she wishes. and if they dont sway i shall sway the leaves for her. and wash that blood away with the wind. and she shall forget the pain, that i caused the blood. and just feel simple relief that only the wind can bring. we shall live off each other. not within each other. we will travel, as wind and rock, around the world. she moves me, i shape her. we shall give when we can. and take what nobody wants. we shall enrich each other, love each other, hate each other. at the end of time I, the rough uncut boulder ignored by time,
shall swear that there is no wind like her. and she shall say that i was the best rock she ever touched. we shall then be forgotten.


Its been 2 years

I used to write here, with a mandatory year end post. They serve you well, when you read them years later, chuckling at some thoughts, at some choice of words and sometimes at the memories. But then, that was before.

There is no longer a need to write, to be heard, to explain your thoughts or to project your philosophies to be absolute. There is no need of anything, really. It's important, but not that important. Not everything worth doing, is worth doing well. There is no place for cynicism that can keep you away from new experiences.  Arrogance & ego decrease drastically at a point, just like it has for most humans who grow old. The shell is gone. People & settings no longer intimidate. Gone are the awkward, serious cynical replies & sulking. No one is sure of anything. You know yourself really really well, yet there is no brake on you. The basic wiring, bias & spontaneity are intact.  Soon that should lead to better observational skills, less interruptions & less talking. Hopefully. Yet parents remain a pain, i suspect that it will always be that way.  There are now more women than ever before, albeit all being temporary. Patience remains elusive. I no longer leave people behind. And i love living alone, i used to think i could never do that. Silly is fun, intellect has its time, trick is to know when to be what. Toxication does not make living better or tolerable, it's just practise & chemistry now. Decisiveness & impatience are very different things.

Loads of firsts this year, much more than ever before. Never felt this good.And that is about it.


i am a ranter

When i was in college i dint know what hipster meant. i googled it. "Definitions are too mainstream.Hipster's can't be defined because then they'd fit in a category, and thus be too mainstream.". Yay i am a hispter! But then everyone seemed to be a hipster, at least according to urban dictionary. I am drinking 60 rupee whiskey. It has done the job rather to well. Today i am celebrating new year, because celebrating it on 31st midnight is too mainstream. This hispter thing is not making any sense at all..

I am down to bare bones, financially. There has been no income for the last 6 months. There have been days of hardwork, some days just idled away. Days idled away looking at facebook albums of places i wanted to visit. Fareaway distant lands. South America, Africa and then Europe. First football stadiums in these places, then lost old places and the cultural hubs.My friends, who have studied well, did their MS are now doing that. I am here in India, broke and trying to get our start up and running.  I am also looking at pictures of some of my batch mates posing in akward photos with their wives. While they are getting married, i am trying to figure out content branding and how social media works. My marketing friend advised me to use posts that are short, can be understood fast and are "share-worth". i prompted, dumb? Yes. Considering dumb is easy and natural, coming up with dumb posts is proving to be difficult.




‘காலத்தின் விதி மதியைக் கடந்திடுமோ?’ என்றேன்
‘காலமே மதியினுக்கோர் கருவியாம்’ என்றாள்.
‘ஞாலத்தில் விரும்பியது நண்ணுமோ?’ என்றேன்;
‘நாலிலே ஒன்றிரண்டு பலித்திடலாம்?’ என்றாள்
‘ஏலத்தில் விடுவதுண்டோ எண்ணத்தை?’ என்றேன்.
‘எண்ணினால் எண்ணியது நண்ணுங்காண்’ என்றாள்.
மூலத்தைச் சொல்லவோ வேண்டாமோ?’ என்றேன்
முகத்திலருள் காட்டினாள் மோகமது தீர்ந்தேன். 




"what happened?"

"it is done."

"how much?"

"affordable. don't worry"

"thank you"

"just make sure its put to good use"


"please sign here. Please show me your hall ticket"


"hmm you seem familiar. which year are you from"

"second year"

"no, i remember you are from fourth year"

"please mam, lets talk this over"


"i was caught"

"What? no no no..."

"I am sorry"

"You told me you will give me a fresh start. look at this. i was going to loose a year at college. now i will be debarred. and married off. fucker"

"what about me?"

"what about you?"


"remind me how long its been"

" 4 years"

"how have you been?"

"i am, ok. you?"

" well i am married now."

"i have my own bushiness now"

"good. what do you do?"

"i dont know what i am doing. but i know what i did. i was going to go to mumbai to join a job, in my final year. and i saw this second year bengali girl. and she asked me write her arrears for me. and i thought whats cement and civil engineering have to do with IT? so i agreed. it was money. i was caught. i tried to do things within the system. dint work. so i used my world talents. i sold owls, old coins, antiques. used the camera to click good image, edit and mask them to look good. put it on the net and sell to fanatic foreigners. then i smuggled a device for a pharma r&d, through the nepal border. and i made a lot of money. there is an old man in guntur. he keeps secret rooms at secret places. and he lets you keep your secrets there. he doesn't care what you keep in there. just pay him. i put my money there. and here i am trying to act like i am doing something and slowly spending it away. the girl is marries and asked me 'what about you?'"


" where are you going?"

" i forgot my hall ticket madam, going to hostel to get it"

" ok hurry up"


" why hasnt he come yet?"

"dont know mam"

" poor kid must have lost it and must be searching for it"