Here’s to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels ......

“Here’s to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They’re not fond of rules, and they have no respect for the status quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify and vilify them. About the only thing you can’t do is ignore them because they change things. They push the human race forward. And while some may see them as crazy, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do.” ( Think Different, Apple)

Anna Hazare, and his A team ,are one such bunch of crazies .And if they fail, they will be the first to acknowledge that, and the first to stand up again, and fight some more. It is easy for some of us to dismiss them. For it is not easy to believe in something to extent, that you are willing to take a Government head on, and fast for so many days. But then, to believe in something that badly, is as good as being mad. That is why, the rest of us have labeled ourselves sane. That is precisely why a Bhagat Singh, a Bose or a Gandhi is not born everyday .

Long live the Revolutionary !

Forsaken Childhood

It was not God forsaken, to tell you the truth. It was fine, in most respects. Quite a few ups, a few downs, it was a roller coaster ride I thoroughly enjoyed. When it got over, I saw this child striving to be a man, who turned out to be fine though. He is not a perverted, self centered, sadistic and chauvinistic pig, but rather a decent and generously flawed human being. I am very grateful for that. But, for many years, I could not remember the child I was. The recollection was hazy at best. That pained me a lot. You should never ever forget the child you were. You should never let  those memories fade away. If you can't relive a few moments from your childhood, if you can't be that kid again, even for a few fleeting moments, you lose a part of yourself. And the process of regaining that lost part is very long, arduous, excruciatingly painful, and at times, insurmountable. But it is worth every wail and every tear. Every bit of that anguish is worth it. Reclaiming my childhood has healed me, incredibly inspired me, and made me whole again. There are still many a gaping holes. Many bridges need to be built again. But I have the blue print, the gist of it. I had forgotten who I was. I did not believe. Rather, I refused to believe. But, slowly and steadily, it is all coming back. Like a giant jigsaw puzzle getting the most important chunks. The mist lifts, with each day. The journey of rediscovery is an absolute delight. To restore the never-say-die spirit, when the fight was worth it. To be possessed by the exuberance. To be happy for the tiniest of reasons. To be insatiably curious and ever bright eyed. Again. Forever.  

I am going to be who I was was. I am reclaiming my forsaken childhood. I will be damned, if I don't. 

"When I was a child, I was a superman. Now, I am just a man" 

p.s The title of the post, is a book bearing the same name, written by a great and tireless soul, a close friend of mine and one of the best human beings I have ever known. 

Gadhnier Fultooskis

Gadhnier Fultooskis :- Gone are the days when we could spare a moment to oil our hair. Or shampoo it. Or use a conditioner. Or soap our bodies while showering. Or brush our teeth. Or use mouthwash . Or a moisturizer . Or apply fariness creams. Life has become so hectic, that we barely have time to do one, leave alone the rest. With this in mind, the legendary Gadhnier have come up with the new and improved, all in one, Fultooskis . All one needs to do, is pour one cap full of it over one's head. And then, magic happens. The super charged nanomites contained in this fine product take care of you, from scalp to sole, and that too in a few seconds.Cleaning, massaging, oiling, shampooing, fairnessing, brushing, washing, and moisturizing every thing. Literally. So throw out the dozen or so bottles of junk on your shelf , and bring home the Fultooskis . Take care .

How to be a Rockstar

Get some pain .
Its all around you .
Feel it . Breath it .
Let it seep through your body .
Suffer . Be miserable .
In a state of mental anguish .
Wail , if you can .
Scream . Rant . Whine .
The monkey chatters too much ?
Then tug hard at the reins .
Smoke . Smoke up . Get drunk .
Fight the pain .
Fight it with all your might .
Then give up .
Try and live with it .
Pull out your hair .
Sob like a child .
Inhale . Snort . Inject .
Deject . And reject .
Fight some more .
Doesn't work ?
Re strategize .
Wallow in the misery of others .
At least, give it a try.
Learn to exploit .
To cheat . To connive .
To survive . To thrive .
Get some religion .
Or a new age vibe .
Talk to Him . Pray to Him .
Curse Him . Blame Him .
Then Seek forgiveness .
Slash your wrists .
Or think about it , at least .
Its unbearable, right ?
Then take a deep breath .
And as you exhale ,
See through the fine mist ,
Of bull shit and lies .
Do you hear the cacophony ?
Of hypocrites and fakers .
There could be an epiphany .
Or just a shallow surmise .
Do remember ,
That the pain won't go away, ever .
But now , when it gushes through ,
Realize . And channelize .

The Little Boy is dead

The Little Boy is dead
He died a slow and horrible death
Choked on his own tears
Gasping for freedom
Drowned in his fears
Craving for fun
He was forced to run
He ran, but got astray
Where to go? Which way?
The path he chose was his own
But it wouldn't get him there, they said

Grow up, they said, and run that way
Look at his shiny car, bright and red
And she bought a bungalow with 17 beds
Measure your worth, compared to theirs
Run, run faster, run harder
And find a good stead
Keep running, till there is no one in sight
Keep running, because there is no end
Keep running, till there is no one behind or ahead

But he couldn't live that way
So the Little Boy killed himself
He strangled himself with a noose
Made of dead and dried up dreams
But he wasn't buried or cremated
Now, his corpse runs the race instead