I Love You

I was two and a half years old when she entered my life without dropping a statutory warning. I hated her. With all the attention and the love that she was getting, I just wanted to get rid of her. I often use to ask my parents if they could dispose her in the bushes. It's only when I see the old photographs right now, that I realize how much of a cute kitten she was with marble eyes and a cub face.

She grew up and the pool of trouble widened. I had to catch her hand and take her to school with me. She used to bawl like a crazy, stubborn brat and wouldn't walk a foot from the school gate. And hence, I was always late to class.The real issue started when she grew up and turned in to my size. Every morning I felt like Santa, trying to hide presents. The only difference was that I didn't want her to find them and that they weren't presents and they were mine. She was a master in finding them and in silently exiting outside the house like a feather..

Man.. I hated her.

I wanted to shoot her for every punches, kicks and scratches she gave me.
I wanted to shoot her for every burglary that happened in my closet.
I wanted to shoot her for every meal fight.
I wanted to shoot her every time she wanted to drive.
I wanted to shoot her for calling me names.
I wanted to shoot her for making me get up and switch off the lights at night, even when I was half asleep .
I wanted to shoot her when she rejected all my feet massage requests.
I wanted to shoot her when she gave me long shopping lists.
I wanted to shoot her every time she asked for Apple products!!

Yeah just like that! (2009)

But, I would take a bullet. I would take a bullet,
for every time she cooked for me,
for every time she read my face,
for every time she tried to cheer me up without making me realize,
for every time she would shop for me and I would sit in a corner like a boss,
for every time she wouldn't let anyone speak against me,
for every time she would fight for me,
for every time she was there for the family, more than me,
for every time she supported my biggest decisions,
for every time she helped me take those decisions,
for every time she made me forget I was the elder and she was the younger sister,

You are someone I'll never have to lose regardless of any consequences. Having you on the parallel bed and talking until we dozed off, was my biggest comfort at the end of the day.

Happy Birthday Notorious.
I wish I was with you on this special day.

I love you to death.

Happy Ganesh Visarjan

This post is a part of my Semblance series. ^

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GANPATI BAPPA MORIYA!

Ohhh! Oooh..Check out these silly ideas some people used.

How boring!

Immersing clay Ganpati in the water so that it melts and mixes with the soil...Psssttt... Noob!

In a Bucket? So lame.

Haaa! What is so enjoyable about this, huh?

Buri nazar wale tera muh kaala

Who doesn't recognize these three words? If you've been leaving under a rock and this doesn't make any sense to you, tell me. I'll send a giant troll to smash you under the same rock.

It might be the weirdest topic to talk about but, hey! what's weird if it's makin yah happy as a bubble.. eh?

I had a special relationship with trucks right from my childhood. When I was a kid, I used to sit on the tank of my dad's motorbike. He used to make me read things written on the back of the truck to keep me awake, as, I use to see-saw horizontally over the bike. When I grew up, my dad taught me how the first two alphabets on the number plates of these trucks signify the state the vehicle is being registered in. I still couldn't go wrong on that. And as majority of commercial transportation in India is done through trucks, I was able to see every state's truck wobbling along the highways. And thus, begin my journey with this amazing machine, without which no highway in India would look complete.

I've been on roads so much that one of the most belonging feeling that I miss right now is the zoooom sound of the trucks you hear in the middle of the night when the silence peeks in. The loud garbage trucks of California in the early morning makes me crave for the sweet trail of noise, a heavy truck leaves behind.

What have I seen in/on those trucks? Bizarre things. Everyone is aware about the spunky and perky quotes the drivers write on their trucks.

Scroll down to the comments to read the quotes. Translating them would kill the fun but, I'll be happy to translate if anyone feel the need to have a laugh or two.

The trucks are normally seen with two people. The driver and his side kick. Yes, let's call him the side kick. And when the three of them merges, fascinating things happen.

I have seen them, brushing their teeth and having a mini-bath in the seat, right in the middle of the highway during a traffic jam, I have seen the side kick putting sun glasses on the drivers head, I've seen them making tea right next to the steering wheel, I've seen them singing folk songs better than the ones we see on reality shows, I've seen mirrors, televisions, refrigerators, curtains, paintings, shelves, stereo system, fans, a life size cardboard cut out of Kareena Kapoor sitting between the driver and the side kick, a poster of Amitabh Bachhan, a 'welcome' mat near the driver's door, wind chimes and other such unique things which are least expected on a moving vehicle.

Epic. They are epic!

What I've seen behind the truck? Petrol, diesel, cotton, sugar canes, hay, tubes for drainage system, wooden logs, spare parts of airplanes and ships, cars, motorbikes, buffaloes, sheep, people, an elephant, chickens, stuffed sacs so overly loaded that the truck looked like a pug and millions of other crazy stuff. I also had this funny habit of stamping trucks with certain characters depending on their look.

Silly, huh?

They all have faces. Trust me.

The more I traveled, the more I was sure of some secret, unofficial competition going around between the truck owners. They decorate their trucks like a newly wedded bride and walk her on the highway ramp to check who has got the best.

On a serious note, people really don't realize the beautiful and intense art work that is crafted on such trucks. They really put in a lot of thought, time and sweat on decorating them. They cruise around with their trucks with so much pride, searching for jealousy in their rival's eyes. They spend, weeks and months and years on roads and their truck is their only companion during their vagabond journeys.

Exquisite art!

If I was the head of Pixar, to hell with Cars and Planes, I would make a movie called Trucks.

Tell me, I am not insane and it is normal to talk so much about trucks. Tell me, at least one of you who is reading this have also been enchanted with this super machine.

Actually, never mind.

I already feel it can be the best job in the world and if possible, I would be a truck driver. What better way to be on the roads 24/7, traveling east, west, north and south, stopping in the middle of the night to eat in cozy dhabas and drink tea in the middle of nowhere?

I already imagine myself, in a dhoti-lungi, raising my right leg up and patting it hard on the thigh and drinking lassi from a nasty glass.

So, never mind. I have already crossed the territory of saneness and it's impossible to get back to normal.

I need to stop.

The past couple of months have been tormenting and frustrating, with everything that is going around in the world. It reflected on my blog. I always try to keep a balance with my blog posts however, the recent ones were all filled with anger, sourness and sadness.

I am still not out of it. I am still furious with what is happening. I still want to write a lot and talk a lot about it but, I shouldn't do it right now. I NEED to bring the happy vibes back, at least for a while.

I am trying my hands on poems again, I am trying my hands on fiction, I am trying my hands on something different, which I believe have never been on anyone's blog. I need have to make space in my head and my blog for these things.

I would be glad if you could come up with any suggestions that might make the blog more readable and cheerful. Tell me something I can write better.

Till then, I would hum and dance with decadence in my own dark swamp.

Love and rockets,