Achan's dream and Dreamersdrone...

This must have happened when Achan's God stopped thinking. Since HE didnt need it anymore, he gave his brain away too....well atleast the better part of it. A hardworking Proletariat belonging to a state with Marxist ideals was blessed with a baby boy. 17 years later... The boy had to choose a career and Achan thought of the brightest options...and since God had long stopped thinking...the boy followed suit. He was to become an Engineer. 4 years of tedious labour at one of premier institutes of the country....Achan felt secure. As the year's went by, Achan's understanding of the situation became better and his insecurities grew...but the boy had become wise in his ways....and if he had learnt anything in those 4 years of university education....it was how to maintain a near-incognito status.. While in college, boy had a passion for all this beautiful....and all things that foster connections....to name a few of his interests - women, works of literary geniuses, internet, porn and cell fone network. The former was a mystery and the latter he learnt to understand and treasure. The boy had made great attempts at sowing seeds for a brighter future, when he would step into professional life...by keeping in touch with a lot of young women but always failed to understand their needs...Up to date, there has been only one unbreakable bond between the boy and someone else....his cellphone. Donot be naive in presuming this particular NOKIA to belong in the material world. The function's of this fone once elaborated will personify its existence. It is Achan's only means to put some sense into his Son's ears. For the boy, it is Achan talking to him and the moment the fone rings, the boy shudders. It is also a way to send short messages across distances...and sometimes the boy has dared to send certain text to a certain Miss that would take him another lifetime to utter. It must be noted here that this fone has shown what the words 'Never Say Die' mean. The shelf life of all things....ALL THINGS....in the boy's life is not more than 15 days. Anything that lasts longer requires due respect and honor and all those things attached with the word - Legend. This fone has been in service for more than 3 years now. Sometime last year, catastrophe had struck and I had thought that this was the end...but no...it was a brief period of 3 months...when the fone was in coma....after which it Came back to life as soon as it was given a new battery. A flap fone lost its life in the most cruel way in this span of 3 months - it was decapitated. May its electronic soul rest in peace. The boy learnt to play the guitar....bought himself a guitar...a beautiful acoustic guitar priced at a whopping Rs.6200/-....the first time it broke was after the 14th day...this falling short for its LEGENDary status. An unsung hero because he never made it. The boy has a string of failures with women...which neednt be elaborated and it can be boldly said that the entire Bollywood will be put to shame if a biopic is ever made with the necessary masala.

The boy has successfully become the Agastya Sen of the Corporate world...his activities include - going to office at 11.30 am....sitting there for as long as he is entertained by the internet. Work only when the job needs to be saved...Among the highlights of the day include checking the blogworld for latest updates by dreamersdrone and the best friends. Also logging into Orkut to check for better photographs...

On weekends he likes to avoid fonecalls from home and spend time with some friends...thinking about past. Last weekend he was spotted at a Dandiya Raas standing and staring at the orgy of festivity in front of him....yes he is one of those young men who like to watch....because everytime he tried to move...he was pushed away. And Achan waits at home worriedly thinking....much to his own dismay.

A tribute to the bold force within Achan to keep up this battle.

A tribute to a cell fone which could stand a nuclear holocaust.

A cliche called Growing-Up

It was a summer vacation from school when we had a show called FUN TIME at 12 noon on TV. It was the most entertaining part of our summer day. It had cartoon shows and other serials that all the kids in my compound used to discuss about when we finished our evening mohalla cricket....sometimes the hangover used to last to the next day morning's session until it was replaced with the next highly awaited episode. Even the kids who wanted to play all day long in those hot suburb afternoons would retire to their TV sets for FUNTIME...some would be lucky to get out again at 1 pm after the show ended...but only to find a lack of quorum to have a decent game....they would play nevertheless. We finished that summer vacation and FUNTIME was on no.1 on all our lists to tell when we got back to school....suprisingly it made it to everyone's list back at school...except a Sathish who had to go to Guntur for his vacation and didnt have anybody to inform him about the show...also probably Vidya since she was the class topper and it was not expected that she watch TV...she had to complete the coming year's syllabus to top again... 3 months passed by..the Quarterly exams happened...and then the mid semesters and then the Diwali Vacations came over....many of us prayed for the show to return....some even spread the rumours that it will start again....everyone was posted about these events till the school closed. The show didnt start....it was rumored that many schools havent closed down yet for vacations and the show will only start once all the kids have a vacation running...but a week later we were more interested to choose our crackers from a limited budget that our parents had allocated. Soon the school reopened and the other semester also ended....and now the expectations were high....we all needed this show to make the vacation memorable. I used to switch on the TV set everyday at arnd 12....but only to find the 'machchar' screen....dots of black and white...no transmission...Doordarshan no longer wanted entertained us. We learned to live with it. ........................... Around Ten years later....we were in college....pursuing a Professional Course...hardly knowing what it all meant.. yes we had dreams...we were taught to dream in school....not many learnt...but I did...a few that I know also did... We dreamt it all.....the anger, the hatred, the happiness, the lows and the highs...the life....some of us even dreamt about peace. These were all just dreams...or in a very Pirsig way - ghosts - that we were trying to chase. Ideas that fancied our senses....sold to us in a beautiful package by the media, the institutions of whatever....the system. And we bought it all....not knowing completely about it....some of us still continue to buy it. It is required that this trade goes on, this is what the system has to offer..and unless there are takers, the system would collapse. When Tyler Durden ran around with his Project Mayhem to start his own small revolution....his answer to the apathy of millions of adults dead in their ROUTINE life.....we were the first ones to talk for it....to justify it....it was our own personal victory over the system. This was just the start....I didnt know what we were getting into... We watched the men of Rock n Roll live their lives in the fast lane...followed every detail in awe....we read about the people who tried to do things differently...and stood out after they died. We watched Vivid, MilfHunter and NaughtyAmerica to know what a woman could do, to believe how great an orgasm could be....we watched them all.....just to get an idea of what sex is all about....dreaming for a day when the on screen action would occur. And then one day....we no longer were in college. We were successful to become part of a much bigger..organised....complex...monstrous SYSTEM. It had a friend called ROUTINE. We thought we had an idea of what it would feel like...to work in 9 to 5 job for 5 days....looking forward for the weekend. We were wrong. We didnt have a gig like the Europe tour of the Doors, we didnt fight out our dislike for the Monster called Routine, and the women never came.... The complains started within a fortnight....but it took a long 2 years to come to a point where I could understand fully that this is not going to change, start making my way in this scheme of things. AsExplainedbyaJunkie was correct to elucidate that this very period is called Growing Up when an amateur starts to come to terms with his situation....and understands fully...his scope, his limitations and starts shifting gears accordingly. Dylan said that a lot of things exist and will continue to exist irrespective of his liking. And he wishes to simply acknowledge this fact. All the children finished school with beautiful memories despite being let down by Doordarshan during one summer vacation....

About a conversation

A vacation of sorts at hand and no activity besides career focussing actions can get harmful on the whole activity scene.....i feel a bit at loss of inspiration. For the past week i have been on an OD of sleep and dreaming and this has brought on a new level of all consuming laziness... To shrug it off...i call my partner-in-crime and the torchbearer of our collective conscience...mr. AsexplainedbyaJunkie. We have spent an enormous amount of talktime on the cellularphones network of wherever...and nothing...nothing has ever come between these conversations....not even the network connectivity which only has taken a bow and a promise to bonded labour to AsexplainedbyaJunkie seeing his cellfone's unexpected lifespan (despite being subjected to abuse that can be best named - Holocaust). Nobody takes the blame. So here we were discussing the various aspects of our life that has shaped up rather drastically in the past two years....the events of strange flavors.... someday i will come to terms with the EVENTS and be bold enough to confront, contemplate and get them on written format.. there are certain words that exist in our COLLECTIVE CONSCIENCE...words that have amazing versatility...that we breakthrough our limited understanding of language...strange issues psychedelic..to name a few. Whenever we talk, it is imperative that we have a section to laud the greats, the legends in their own right....those who have walked the paths that many talk about and live to tell their tale.....we assume its our tale...its the tale of life..And some people...they dont tell anything at all... We talk about Bob Dylan. There is also Eric Clapton, Mark Knopfler. We have spoken about a physicist - Stephen Hawking...though my knowledge and understanding on this particular great personality is next to zilch...come to think of it..that is true for all those who are mentioned here..But one thing is for certain - They Know. They know about what we are talking about...what some junkies and poets and artists and rock bands and bloggers are referring to...they know exactly what is the point that everyone is hinting at....scratcing around...never hitting bullseye. Because the market demands that you never hit the spot...give some idea..but never hit the spot. Cos once you hit it...no one would ask for seconds. Coming back to Dylan... Our search for music started after we left college....we used to listen to someone's dreamworld...then our dreamworld...we listened to them all....the doors, pink floyd, led Zep, CCR, Grateful Dead, acdc, deep purple, iron maiden, metallica, ....the list is available on every most pages of Orkut. We never listened to ourselves...we tried...but we never got to hear the voices. Something somewhere was missing....there was a communication problem...probably a breakdown.. I tried hard to listen what I wanted to listen to...but never hit it right... After a series of events.....i finally could listen to myself. I was on the quest for music. No more was i troubled by something called EGO...but these events I believe were too large a ransom to pay for my aquired capability. I would like to thank AsExplainedByaJunkie at this moment....something that was long overdue. Something that I would write on my Will...'AsExplainedbyaJunkie, i would like to thank you for helping me go through it' Yes we have had many such conversations...lost in the rings of smoke...lost between the legs of Vicky Vette....but we were smart enough to carry the gist. One such versatile word that has come to bind all these conversations - basically - a word that explains the gist of our ideas...whatever limitations of language experienced within. Our Man, Mr Bob Dylan - the artist - is a collection of ideas ranging from spiritual guru to folk musician to pop aritist. But the man behind this image as many of us know is Robert Allen Zimmerman. Lets get this long name out of this. Mr Dylan - the artist - stands tall, to be a voice of a generation, a persona that is capable of being a Prophet etc etc...something that he himself has denounced..and has been successfully able to keep away from..though his songs achieve the same nature. But Mr Dylan - the person - is one of the best artists that this decade has seen. He is a master of words who has written a library of songs. Songs that have gained social importance...that have given voice to a group of people. But it is this person who stays firmly grounded and not fly away with his celeb status....he has seen the life of a pop star, of a pop star junkie, of a failed pop star, of a popstar with a comeback...he has seen it all in the field of glory of the 20th century. And he still doesnt complain. He just writes his songs...and great ones too....and there are a zillion people who are ready to worship him. .................thats all i understand of Mr Dylan. There is a lot to learn from him. He is one superstar of the media who has taken all the fame but comfortably avoids the price that one needs to pay for it.