Thursday, February 24, 2011


The smoke circled in the room, dancing a tune I had never seen before. I smelt of vodka and a faint trail of some cologne from the last morning. It was cold, lying on the floor; yet I was sweating. My breath was heavy, very heavy and my heart felt being crushed. But, a smile was hidden somewhere behind.

It was her perfume that made me look at her, she had some citrus flavor on. My eyes had no reason to complain, a dark chocolate, yummy she looked. I couldn't help but stare and she dismissed me with a smile. The evening gave way to night, my bottle empty and hands still shaking. Maybe I should stop drinking, but then without booze life will be lonely. I scrambled till the door, trying to remember where I lived. That is all what I remember from that  night and then I remember waking up in the morning at the girls place, from the bar.
When someone makes a complete idiot of himself the first time in front of a girl, she becomes a mother. Her guard is down and she would hug you to her bosom, if that would comfort you. Chocolate ended up fighting over vodka bottles with me on most evenings. Her citrus scent still made me crazy, but then the primate in me couldn't do anything.

But, she could and she dared. She initiated, I obliged more than happy. Her scent was driving me crazy and a beast I turned into.

She carried my marks and smelt like me, covered in my sweat. Filled with me and my life to come. The smile that dismissed me the first time was beside me, alone in sleep and not knowing the colors flashing across my mind.

who all, am I !

I remember the coldness of early mornings, damp air and the ringing of church bells from not a time so far behind. My days started with a prayer, which in its due course, in an hours time saw me measuring the wine for the  mass in church. ALTAR BOY i was.

It was me who arranged the table on which the feast was to be celebrated in memory of Christ. I rang the bells, lit candles, made sure the wine and bread were there. I prayed aloud, sang hymns and read the bible to the parishioners. My voice was heard all aloud, second only to that of the priest.

A hardbound bible, my dad's gift to me when young, which I still carry, bore witness to many of my nights. I was hooked with the old testament and the psalms. I adored David and was proud to be named Joseph. After father of Jesus & the chap in the old testament. The wise one, who lead Jews to Egypt, during a famine in Israel. I prayed the time I walked, the time I played, the time I slept. I truly lived a Christian.

The sound of a train passing by, made my mind travel to my first trip alone from the south to the north of India. I called it internship, for the sake of easy approvals. The first lie. Two vodka bottles, a pack of ten gifted by a friend & clothes made my bag and then the bible was there at the bottom. Dunno why, but i carried it. I remember watching the green give way to the plateaus in a dream woven with vodka and pot. The empty train was like my big private party, all the way from Cochin to Delhi.

No trace of the alter boy remains in me, not even the faintest scent of mass wine adorn my lips. But, the smell of lively spirits. The alter boy and the one who went on a travel are all me.

who all, am I!

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

inside a SQUARE !

Six years back, I read my very first Indian Case, Vishaka v. State of Rajasthan sometime in February. This is one interesting read, trust me. It has everything in it, love, violence, abuse & revenge; the whole concept of sexual assault was re-defined with this one. Thinking back about it now, boy, I did use ma brains. I tried figure out from where did the court borrow the language and I was successful in finding it out too.

And here I am, inside a SQUARE.
between rows and columns,  figuring how the hell does the functions work in a spreadsheet.

My second case, the one that hammered the concept, 'it will amount to be a sexual assault, if you even look at a female colleague with lust in your eyes'. oh my!!! dragged it a little too far, but then the Government and the Apparel Export Council, wanted to prove a point to some top brass of the bureaucracy. and A.K Chopra paid. every single guy who ever walked any place near a law school in India knows this guy. it is more like the rapist in that case. bloody hell, this guy didn't rape. he outraged her modesty with his gestures and it amounted to an assault, sexual in character as per the Court. (it is the lawyer in me bragging, don bother)

what nonsense?? a comment i read in a blog said, all potent men must have thought about rape one time or the other in their life. did i ever do that?? yes i have. it was for the heart and not for the urge. STRANGE! maybe alongside being a racist, i am growing in stature as a male chauvinist as well or maybe i must ask the good old females whether they ever thought about being forcefully taken??

Staring at a woman with lust is a sexual assault. This is what happens when someone tries being too good. Lines gets stretched. Do I look at woman in office with lust in ma eyes??  some i would say.. Do I make advances, NO.. Do I try do anything about it, NO.. Moses commandment on adultery, I broke that even in office!! I should have paid more attention during my catechism class and this wouldn't have happened. Do i regret about this in life?? NO, in fact saying it like the tax man I am, 'it has all been a learning experience'. But then it is not the Biblical justice we are talking about now.  there is this girl in office, who fills me with an urge like I haven't felt in a long time and yet all i want to do is be nude with her and make love rather than, rape her. Is this love what I have for her? YES, in a lustful way. is it like I am wired in a weird way?? or is there someone who would make a consensus with me?? Do I care whether someone says yes? NO..

for the urge and i never thought about rape, for the heart i was happy raping.

Monday, February 21, 2011

A Sunday Morning Social Engineering!!

The neon lamps of the dance floor slowly gave way to a sedate shade of yellow of my room sometime early Sunday Morning. The vodka, which mated with my blood had started showing signs of pregnancy. I was high, my head spinning circles, the feel of the girl in my hand did not seem familiar though her smell did. I kept pondering who is it with me and in a blaze of smoke the urges of the flesh took over the thought and I was on bed rolling, trying hard to undress myself and harder to undress the companion for the night. Like animals, the primate urge satisfied and cycle of progeny completed, the sedate shade of yellow gave way to a melancholy black and blank.

The news paper boy woke me and the memories of last night evaded my mind until my hand touched the person lying next to me. Boy, wow, I didn't end up sleeping with some random girl I met in a party. It was my gal friend, though we are never going to be married nor will we ever have kids, I felt a layer of embarrassment being washed away or rather vanishing and a sense of guilt filling its place.

Smoke circled the room as if sharing my thoughts and her face seemed to reflect the glitter of booze from last night. She will adorn the living room of some other man, make babies with him and lie by his side, just like she is sleeping now. We were mates on one small voyage and not for the venture of life, our paths crossed each others and we are to be together for a brief time and then set sails alone into the dark waters. We never shared a dream except the ones woven on bed and the primates in us never had a reason to complain. But, the smoke is making me think on a very different perspective, with babies and family and responsibilities.

Though I find no reason to believe in love, my heart is still a romantic. Love might exist some-place, some where and my companion for the night will have someone wanting her for ever and not just for the immediate present like me. She could have a million dreams woven in love and not just sick tales of booze to share. She should be set free and not curtailed with the long hands of a primate. All random thoughts invading my mind.

A warm mug of coffee along with discussion about the headlines that made the day, the Sunday Morning witnessed us not just being primates but also being social engineers!! And the engineering marvel we created- a decision to go separate ways. Finally lust giving way to love, libido calming down to let the brain do the thinking and a deep sense of care for the other and her needs and fulfillment of life.

"For Sale"

A friends blog gave me the fuel to get my old internal-diesel engine to choke up some power and do a last run for freedom before I am forced to start prostituting again. I am sick of selling myself, tired of being intellectually raped, bleeding to an intellectual death because of the fancies of my rich clients.

The horizon seems to be on fire, with spot lights fixed on me and my prowess for the rich. I am for sale, to be bought by some American Billionaire or may be an Oil Baron from the middle east. My skin looks flawless, I have the right experience serving very rich clients; I know what pleases them and I could help them get an orgy in minutes; but every minute reaching there I am losing myself. The labyrinth of Grey Cells damaged every time I am forced to undress my brain and open my thoughts to the clients man-hood and his efforts to reach a climax.

I am done with being nude, being on display for sale. I am sick of gagging on my own puke and the feeling of despair that follows me even in my sleep. The threats of hunger and death do not scare me anymore. Down payments do not matter nor the fear of losing the treasures I collected prostituting. A final leap for freedom from the clutches of the plastic world to the world of peasants. Simple and green and a board hanging out on my front door - "I AM NOT FOR SALE"

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