I risk sounding judgmental, at large, bizarre here, but that won’t be able to stop me from airing my voice. For last one decade, I’ve been completely irritated on an absurd phenomenon creeping into our so-called ‘classy’ class’ minds. I name this phenomenon as ‘holier-isolation’.

To put it in simple words, I take the case of few exceptional ‘Indians’. What about those Indians who always suffer from a colonial hangover? I mean, I’ve met and fought with many Indians, residing abroad, who visit India and at every point of their conversations, try to deny any Indianness in them. They’ll go on saying, how ‘Indian mentality’ sucks, how our societal framework is callous, how our leaders are corrupt, how our future is bleak, how ignorant we’re about the ‘real’ happening world and so on!! While talking to them, many ‘wanna-be’ Indians nod their heads and would say, “Sahi hai yaar… hamare yahan toh kuch nehin hone walla hai!!”

So basically, those NRIs are just not Indians while they are in India. Fare enough! But my question is – what changes when they’re abroad? Why, every time, they face any problem abroad, they take the shelter of ‘Indian’ identity? When an Indian student, studying in any 3^rd grade university of the US, UK or Australia comes to India, he just can’t pronounce English in Indian way!!! Many of them pretend that they’ve forgotten Hindi and stamp it as, “Sorry dude, am grossly out-a-touch o’ the Indzian ways, you know!” Cool enough!

But when the same student faces racist attack in Australia, he keeps crying out his ‘Indian-victimhood’.

An Indian will eagerly, if not happily, wash dishes or clean floors in food joints abroad, but India, he/she just go mad of the domestic help, at the drop of the hat!

An Indian will eagerly, if not happily, drive a cab abroad, but in India, he just can’t stand our transportation system!

And Indian girl will go for a strict 9am-11am study-work regime abroad, but in India, she just can’t wake up before 12.

And Indian would eagerly, if not happily, start running every time he/she spots an immigration officer, but in India, he/she will not even bother to wear seatbelt or hell mate!

Personally, I just can’t stand these jerks. I’m proud of my country and this Indian identity. Yes, we’ve many problems, far too many than many other countries. Many of such problems frustrate me to the core, but nevertheless, they never pose a question mark before my love for this country or for everything that is Indian.

I don’t know whether you guys will agree with me, but I request you not to value anyone, however Indian his/her surname is, if that person doesn’t value our (as a matter of fact, his/her) country! And I hate it when Indian newspapers go gaga about any NRI doing great in life abroad. I mean, give me a break. One day, I read all the newspapers saying – TIME magazine says, “Dr. Manmohan Singh has changed the lives of millions in India.” So? Big deal? We know who Dr. Singh is and what his qualities are. We value him in our way. Why do we have to so excited about TIME uttering the words which are already proven a zillion times in India itself? Funny how anything foreign is so sexy to us!!! Typical colonial hangover! 

The latest case in point is Mr. Amartya Sen, who feels ‘sad’ being called an ‘Asian’ on international ground. Ahan, and we value the same Sen-babu as Indian treasure! Is that why we’ve got a headline today which says – “I feel at home when I’m in India – Hillary Clinton” ???! Think about it!

Guys, think about it, in the history of civilizations, we’ll never be able to take FILMFARE to bigger height if Oscar is all we care about! We’ll never be able to make Bharat-Ratna the biggest achievement if Nobel is our limit. We’ll never be able to make National Games the biggest if Olympics is all that we get awed at!

I’m not saying, India is ready to create such History now. But no country gets it on the platter. Everyone earns it. So will we, provided we set out minds on the right track! If the US could do what it has done, if Australia could become what it is now and in Japan could be what it has become, then we could be what we already WERE – the glorious, the oldest, the grandest, the greatest civilization – India!!! Look back in the past, shape the present, future will be ours. But it all starts with the right mind-set!  

Let’s not corrupt our minds in colonial hangover… let’s believe in India and let’s believe in ourselves! Jai Hind!            

Yes, I religiously hate this lady. I mean, she is the only person who kills almost all of my Sunday pleasures. Her irritating, baseless, ego-centric and illiterate columns, published on every Sunday Times of India, as POLITICALLY INCORRECT, are garbage at its best! Just read on few of titles of her columns –

Political babes in the woods 

The 'new' desi girl is here, don't mess with her

Bollywood bachao!

Mind your lingo

Taslima, go home

All these columns are full of ego-centric blabbering of a perfect wanna-be Ex-page-3 loser! I fell and believe, her sole aim is to pick up any one of the happening personalities, who gets any kind of highlight by media, and bash that person with typical Shobhaa De venom. If these stupid and irritating titles weren’t enough, dare to read any of her columns; I assure, once you’re done reading one (which itself is a difficult task), you’ll be left with a peculiar sense of guilt in your mind, fueled by one question – ‘Was I really out of my mind that I decided to read her?’

This week, she broke all her records and went on comparing the Union Budget presented by Mr. Pranab Mukherjee, with none other than the baseless Kambakth Ishq. In the whole article, she didn’t utter a word about the merit or demerit of the budget and its plans (that didn’t surprise me given the ocean of knowledge that she has). The entire article was on Pranab Mukherjee’s pronunciation-error. No wonder, she finds Mr. P Chidambaram as the ‘sexiest man in India’!!! 

Starting from her comments on Jhumpa Lahiri, Taslima Nasrin, Saurav Ganguly, MS Dhoni till her nonsensical blabbering on terror attacks in India – she has proved it again and again, that she is absolute embodiment of a good-for-nothing jealous figure.

If Times group really cares about its readers and their opinion (if not its own money), it should immediately cancel the contract with Mrs. De. It’s a national embarrassment to see that stupid lady sharing the same page with great columnists like Swami Ankleshwar Iyer and Swapan Dasgupta. She was at her best as an editor of Stardust. Someone please ask her to blow her dust there. She is a woman who can teach only one lesson to Indian Women - ‘What Women Should Not Be Like’!!!   

What is it that you can do, if

I take away the little-left life? If

I stand defeated in the mirror, if

I shut my door to myself…

What is it that you can do?

What is it that you can say, if

I scream out loud? If

I ask them to stay away, or if

I choose to be silent…

What is it that you can feel?

What is it that you have ever done, to

Ease the chocking breath? To

Palm my forehead burning in fever, to

Speak the hidden lies out?

What is it that you have ever done?

So, stay away you, stay away, when

I say it’s over, when

I say I don’t need your cover, when

I push you away… so far away…

So, stay away you… just stay away.

I’m talking to you

Yes, I’m talking to you!

Keep the pain inside alive,

It’s the only solace you have!

Let the ice tickle in your drink

It’s the only cold touch you have!

Haven’t you seen how it feels, to

Touch the fire when it’s dead?

So tell me, what it means to be warm

When the blood in your veins is freezing up?

Keep the pain inside alive,

Let the ice tickle in your drink…

I remember that cold night with you,

You made it warm with your touches,

Since then, I miss my coldness

Even,

When the blood in your veins is freezing up!

Give it another shot to make it cold,

You smile has taught you how to.

Let it freeze, chock its breath…

Yes there you go…Make it cold,

Come on, make it cold!

Currently, I'm writing all these without thinking whether anyone will care to read these or not! So, I've no intention or wish to make these readers' friendly or whatever anyone calls it! I'm just writing... That's why, if you've accidentally come accross this space and have read these lines, kindly ignore it at your own ease! This part of my life is called MYSELF! That's all.. EnjoY~   

Where are you taking this friend of mine?

I’ve seen him tossing and turning,

But he’s a friend, a friend of mine!

Where are you taking this ego of mine?

I’ve felt it poisoning everyone around me,

But it’s my ego, the ego of mine!

Where are you taking this night of mine?

I’ve lived every bit of it with darkness all around,

But it’s my night, the night of mine!

When you left me stranded at the crossroad,

They’d open their arms for me, to

Sooth my rot, through an open touch…

Now that you stand lost,

Is revenge the last thing in your mind?

How long will you paint love with blood on brush?

So tell me, does it make you happy, to

Un-skin me through your own nails?

Pardon me, for not laughing on your face,

(After all) It’s my love, the love of mine!   

The drops were wondering, what

It takes to be so proud!

The sky was fainting, with

Tears chocked in dark cloud!

I see your face, buried

In dark green laughter,

Is it too late baby,

To start a brand new chapter?

You say, I don’t breathe

My heartbeats are wrong,

Ask the stars about, whether

The light is ever gone!

Stars will smile with you

When you reach out to them,

Face the mirror, you martyr

It was never just a game!

So, there I stand, with

Eyes diving back in time

The strings go unmissed, as

My lies, intact, are just mine!

One more push, back to life,

One more touch, back to life,

Life’s waiting, just one more blow

Yes, there’s blood… Let it bleed, let it flow

Yes, martyr, welcome back to life

Let it ease, let it glow.

Hundred calls go wasted,

But I’m just a ‘hi’ away.

Hundred songs go wasted,

But I’m just a ‘tune’ away.

Hundred thrills go wasted,

But I’m just a ‘touch’ away.

Hundred lines go wasted,

But I’m just a ‘letter’ away,

Hundred points go wasted,

But I’m just a ‘dot’ away.

Hundred changes go wasted,

But I’m just a ‘stroke’ away.

Hundred lives go wasted,

But I’m just a ‘breath’ away.

Hundred answers go wasted,

But I’m just a ‘question’ away.

Hundred tides go wasted,

But I’m just a ‘shore’ away.

Hundred rights go wasted,

But I’m just a ‘wrong’ away.

Hundred lives go wasted,

But I’m just a ‘death’ away.

Hundred realities go wasted,

But I’m just a ‘dream’ away.

The invisible game has begun again.

I see your hands eager to touch it,

But it’s invisible… for you and me,

That’s why it’s a game, again!

(There) The invisible game has begun again!

Why the game baby, just for fun?

What about those inhaled sighs?

What about those practiced excuses?

What about the buried pain?

That’s why it’s a game, again!

(There) The invisible game has begun again!

Was it really tough to breathe?

Was I really ready to be back and ease?

Was your shadow not nearing you?

Or did you think it was really late, by then?

That’s why it’s a game, again!

(There) The invisible game has begun again!

I love these four walls, with

‘Please disturb me’ on the door,

I lay flat with poison in mouth

I crawl along; after all, it’s my floor.

You say knocking is a pain,

(But) That’s why it’s a game, again!

(There) The invisible game has begun again!

Let the smoke fill the cloud,

Let the rain dry the smoke,

Let the darkness enlighten the rain,

That’s why it’s a game, again!

(There) The invisible game has begun again!

‘Coz I love these four walls, with

‘Please disturb me’ on the door,

I lay flat with poison in mouth

I crawl along; after all, it’s my floor.

You say knocking is a pain,

(But) That’s why it’s a game, again!

(There) The invisible game has begun again!

Hi Friends! Trying to put my past days into words.. Hope you all are rocking the way you always do! EnjoY~

That song is still not sung, you know…

It’s half-sung, it looks useless that way.

Every time I’ve thought of singing it,

The fear of getting over got me over, you know…

The poem is still not written, you know…

It’s half-written, it looks wasted that way.

Every time I’ve thought of writing it,

The fear of getting over got me over, you know…

Those sighs are still not shed, you know…

It’s half-sighed, it looks empty that way.

Every time I’ve thought of shading it,

The fear of getting over got me over, you know…

The dream is still not dreamt, you know…

It’s half-dreamt, it looks hazy that way.

Every time I’ve thought of dreaming it,

The fear of getting over got me over, you know…

This is such a weird night, you know…

You say, this is an un-slept night.

See, I want to sing that half-sung song tonight,

I want to write that half-written poem tonight,

I want so much to let that half-shed sigh out tonight,

I want to dream that half-dreamt dream tonight,

But the fear of getting over gets me over, you know…

Perhaps I’m too weak to be strong, you know…

Or perhaps I’m too strong to be weak.

Strength and weakness always remain undecided,

Every time I’ve thought of deciding it,

The fear of getting over got me over, you know…

The truth is still not told, you know…

It’s half-told, it looks like a lie that way.

Every time I’ve thought of speaking the truth,

The fear of getting over got me over, you know…

The fear? Yes, that fear…

That fear is still not felt, you know…

It’s half-felt, it looks like courage that way.

Every time I’ve thought of fearing it,

The fear of getting over got me over, you know… 

Still those nights are fresh

Which I spent with you,

Do you still call my name? Or

Was it just a game?

Still those tears are fresh

Which I shed for you,

Do you still cry the same? Or

Was it just a game?

Still those wishes are fresh

Which I whispered for you,

Do you still care for it? Or

Was it just a game?

Still those sighs are fresh,

Which I shed missing you,

Do you still feel the flame, or

Was it just a game?

Still those tunes are fresh

Which I sang for you,

Do you still try to blame? Or

Was it just a game?

Still those drops are fresh,

Which I shared with you,

Do you still love the rain? Or

Was it just a game?

I am weak as ever,

Which you always claim,

Do you still game on me? Or

Was it just a game?

Do you see the sun?

It doesn’t brighten me anymore!

Do you see the moon?

It doesn’t soothe me anymore!

Do they all think it matters no more?

Do you see the sky?

It doesn’t invite me anymore!

Do you see the clouds?

It doesn’t soften me anymore!

Do they all think it matters no more?

Do you see the tears?

It doesn’t pain me anymore!

Do you see the sighs?

It doesn’t empty me anymore!

Do they all think it matters no more?

Do you see the noise?

It doesn’t annoy me anymore!

Do you see the silence?

It doesn’t frighten me anymore!

Do they all think it matters no more?

Do you see the fire?

It doesn’t ignite me anymore!

Do you see the shore?

It doesn’t allure me anymore!

Do they all think it matters no more?

Do you see the fingers?

It doesn’t touch me anymore!

Do you see the eyes?

It doesn’t see me anymore!

Do they all think it matters no more?

I saw the depth, I saw the height,

I saw the darkness, I saw the light,

I hear you, but you can’t listen to me anymore

Do you really think it matters no more?!

Or do you think I matter no more?!!

You heard yourself saying – it’s over

You heard yourself saying – no and never!

You didn’t know I saw you lover

You said it’s now or never!

You heard yourself crying – it’s forgotten

You heard yourself crying – it’s all gone

You didn’t know I saw you shiver

You said it’s now or never!

You heard yourself shouting – get lost

You heard yourself shouting – hate you the most

You didn’t know I saw you dear

You said it’s now or never!

You heard yourself slamming – it's ‘time’?

You heard yourself slamming – it's ‘fine’?

You didn’t know I saw you utter

You said it’s now or never!

Now that I’m gone, now that you’re lost

Now that I bleed, now that you don’t care

Did you hear me right? Have you really gone far?

Was it really now or never!?!

Don’t bother about my blood

It flows and it’ll flow forever!

But what about your tears?

Dear, was it really now or never!?!  

ALBUM UPDATED ..... FOR YOU :)

You thought I will bleed,

You thought I will cry,

You thought I will creep,

You thought I will eventually dry!

But you see I love to prove you wrong!

You thought I will ask,

You thought I will turn,

You thought I will pain,

You thought I will automatically burn!

But you see I love to prove you wrong!

You thought I will sing,

You thought I will stare,

You thought I will jump,

You thought I will obviously care!

But you see I love to prove you wrong!

You thought it’s a ‘style’ to hurt,

You thought hatred is an age-old song!

You thought it’s ‘cool’ to be ice,

You thought it’s a ‘weakness’ to be strong!

But you see I love to prove you wrong!

Last night when my tomb got 'wet', you thought I was gone,

Yes, I'm dead - but you see  - I love to prove you wrong! 

SCREAM DEAR - YOU KNOW, IT MAKES SUCH A SWEET SOUND!

BECAUSE MORE SILENT I WILL BE THE MORE I GET GROUND!