The Condensed Story Of An Apathetic Soul

Hers was a case that couldn't be helped. Apathy was what she suffered from.
When someone asked her, what she wanted to be when she grew up, she thought to herself:

"I want to be able to love. Unconditionally. To give and not want in return. To devote and commit to someone. A human. To feel a connection. To be able to touch someone and not feel awkward about it. To just, be and live and love."

She was sure of the answer until she changed it.

"A mother", she said. Then smiled.

Stats

9 out of 10 people in India are at the Kurla Station. Right now.

He's like the Indian Batman, only better. DOGA

Now I don't know how many of you know this but Doga is one of the coolest (anti)heroes ever. Yes, he's Indian. Yes, he has a secret identity. Yes, he doesn't respect the law and yes, he stands up for the poor and the weak.
Did you know, Doga's real name is Suraj? Khee-khee.

I read Doga for the first time when I was in the fourth grade. I came up with this brilliant idea that all of us from the neighborhood would hold a weekly library at our houses and the others would pick a book (or more) and return them in the following week (or re-issue it).
[Side note: Yeah, I was always cool.]

The plan was almost a success except that most parents started seeing this as a burden. Lots of kids in their house creating a ruckus, touching things, eating biscuits, spilling drinks and you know, so it ended pretty soon. Also, we wanted to play more. Get some exercising done. Less hassle.
I don't know if this is something my friends remember and agree if this was a cool thing to do but I owe it to this idea most of the things I know about Indian comic books.
As a child, I was born in the times (90s) when every household had a television so obviously, I wasn't much into reading. Unlike my brother, who started reading comic books before he was even four, I didn't start until much later.
Going back to the story, almost everything I know about Indian comic books, I owe to the childish idea of holding a weekly library. One of my friend's brothers was into comics and when she held the library at her place, I was fascinated by all those drawings and all those speech bubbles. After the first week itself, I realised issuing/borrowing a couple of books for a whole week was a bad idea. I needed more. Also, I needed things to keep me busy and to help me put off my holiday home-work forever (that shit really sucked).
I started borrowing more and more comic books from my friend. That's how I read a lot of Raj Comics' stuff like Super Commando Dhruv, Nagraj, Bankelal, Hindi translations of The Phantom, Mandrake and even Archie (amongst many more obscure comic books). Chacha Chaudhary, Pinki-Billoo and those kind of things were my old friends and regular fillers.
I cannot stress enough how much I enjoyed reading Doga but I also knew I was more attracted to finishing off stuff like Bankelal which was pure humor. After the library thing ended, all of us stopped borrowing books and so did I. I had to finally get down to that holiday home-work and Dexter's Laboratory and you know, sleeping and bugging my brother and so I never really got to reading Doga extensively.
However, I now have a good news. I got an internship a couple of months ago and I get paid (that's not the good news). I have decided to either waste the money or invest it. The first time around, I decided on semi-wastage and semi-investment which is why I bought a coffee maker. The second time around, I decided on a complete and foolish wastage and that's how I ended up with some new clothes and this time, a brilliant investment. I bought the entire collection of Doga comics online.
The package just arrived today and I am happy.

Also, I got a huge Doga poster as free gift. Yey-hey!

Uh yeah, this is (not so) unusual.

Now I know this blog has a certain image to it.
It talks about shit and all kinds of it.
I am also aware that I don't address issues. Important ones or the more important ones that have Rakhi Sawant in them.
I also know that that what I am going to talk about in the next few lines is of zero importance when you look at the big picture but I am going to do it anyway.

What happened on the 16th of December in our country's capital, New Delhi was sad. Sad beyond belief. There are several reports on rape and assault making some news every other day. What I am trying to say is, my feelings on the issue is merely a result of the hyper activity among the media, social activists, politicians and to put it bluntly, the mob.

Since I happen to be a person who prefers watching Thappad Padega Henry/Bas Karo Henry on Cartoon Network or Naseeb Apna Apna on Zee Cinema, what happens in the country, what happens of the popular opinion on the most popular current affair, the latest reason for the awakening of our nation and its people and all those kinds of things mostly doesn't affect me. Why? Well, I am not here to give justifications for my inability to feel for everyone and everything.

The thing is, this is not supposed to be a post where I say something profound or share a new vision or criticize the social media, comment on the people who wish for the rapists to be castrated or say as much as a word against the women's liberation activists who seem to be capitalising the situation well enough or anything about the law enforcement issues in our country and the inevitable politics that comes along with all of this. I will not comment on the the social barriers between men and women in our society, how this whole thing has somehow become a supposedly complicated and philosophical question that addresses the age old arguments on women v/s men, how everyone is fucked by the language they speak, how women are protesting saying "police ko apne haath mein choodiyaan pehen leni chaahiye", not realising that if they stand for equality, they are just not doing it right. I will not even try to figure out why women want to be treated as equals in the way the word equal means but make it a big deal when the police beats them with sticks much like they beat the other male protestors. I watch people rant without knowing what they are ranting about. I don't use the word 'mob' because those who are aware of what it means get offended. The internet has become a grand theater these days. Very rapidly everyone's Facebook picture is changing into black dots and more rapidly it is changing back into beautiful pictures of themselves in designer clothes that they could just not resist showing off. Ignorance is a strong trait in us. As disappointing this whole situation is and no matter how ridiculous everyone appears over the internet, most people just don't care to think. They are raged by something obviously hideous that happened a few days ago. I see people quoting various newspapers and magazines and putting it up as their status message telling others to copy the same message and demand capital punishment for the rapists. They don't understand that screaming off over the internet is only good enough to be used as a sub-sub-sub-sub story in a one hour argument on NDTV that has a quirky, opinionated news commentator (rather than a new reporter) playing judge for the arguments exchanged between four feminazi women seated in the studio and one minister representing the government, over the phone. People don't really care and somehow, they just do. It all just goes down to what's fresh and what's latest. Is it your birthday, the best day of your life, the day Sachin got retired, the day before Christmas, Christmas, the day you went out on the streets with thousands of others with a candle in your hand, the day you argued we should hang perverts by law, the day a girl got physically used by six men, the day her friend got beaten up for trying to save her?

The black dots just come and go. It doesn't matter. Sad.


PS: This gives this blog a new label- When I am Serious.

Brief Interviews With Hideous Men

The following piece is inspired from Brief Interviews With Hideous Men
...


Q

Trust me, it's not like I do it on purpose or that I am chasing a self gratifying end of feeling a certain sense of accomplishment. I don't even know what I do is because I want it. That I want it so bad. I don't realise it while I am engaged in the process of attaining it. What I am saying is, I don't even realise I did it until I am told that I really did do it. Of course, no body can point it right out but yeah, after a little thinking, I realise I did it again. Not that it was my intention but yeah, I did do it nevertheless.

Q

Honestly, I think you can call me insecure... what the hell, I am insecure which is why I think people around me feel like they should hold me and tell me it's alright. Not that I don't appreciate it, I really do but more than that, what I really feel is satisfaction. A sense of satisfaction that comes from knowing people love me and care about me, just that, I think, I mean I am not sure but maybe it's not as pure as these words make it out to be?

Q

How? Well, I think it may be because I really enjoy it. I get high on it. I like being important but I guess more than that - more than anything else, what I really cherish is the drama. The fake concern and I doubt that they are aware of how fake it is. I mean, it really gives me the pleasure.

Basically what I am saying is, I enjoy the attention.

Q

..but I think it is probably a little more serious than that. A lot of people enjoy attention. No, wait. Everyone enjoys attention. Second rate celebrities, little girls in pink skirts, sportsmen and so on and so forth but I enjoy attention to the point of it being the only thing that concerns me. Everything I do... yeah.

Q

What pisses people off, I think ^[1], I mean this is something I gathered after an ex called me selfish, is that I am truly; most innocently unaware of my needs. The need of feeling important, that is. I mean until now of course.

Q

Yeah so now that I realise it, you would think I feel evil but really what I feel is just helpless.

Q

You know what, I'd clean up your poop with my own hands when you're sick and yeah, I wouldn't even make a face while I am it. I'd smile at you and feel great that I could take care of you because I love you but what I would really, really appreciate is not your genuine thanks or your unconditional love in return or for that matter have you clean my poop when I am sick. However what would really get to me and move me like nothing else is when you would tear up before ten people and say you love me because I care for you like no one else ever could. Yeah, I basically want them to know, not that I wiped your butt with my bare hands^[2] but that I love you more than your own mother does. That I am willing to take care of you no matter what. That I am really doing everything out sheer concern and a whole lotta love.. for you. I will take pleasure in knowing that you show me off to your friends like you would show off a vintage Chanel dress and I will love you more for not only allowing me but also acknowledging and making me out to be the one truly, madly and foolishly in love with you.
And yet, after all this one sided giving from my side, at the end of the day, it's not just your attention I want, I also crave your friend's attention and her brother's attention and yeah, you know.. him, her, him and her, her, her, him, him all possible permutations and combinations or whatever that is.

Q

I must admit something, I am willing to do anything for you to feel comfortable around me. I want you to feel like you've found a friend in me, a lover in me, a confidant. I will love it when you make me an embarrassing T-shirt that reads 'private property of so and so' and I will tell you I love it and yeah, I really do. Sometimes I will tell you I don't want to wear it but what I want of you is to make me wear it anyway. I want you to feel like you own me. Know that I am yours. I don't want to be your inspiration - fuck "inspiration". I am not here to inspire anyone. I just have this worm that gnaws at my very existence and makes me feel an almost urgent need to feel genuinely important to others. I want to be that little thing that you do everyday like it's something scared. I want to be as precious to you as a prayer and all the hope you put into it. I want to be significant for you. I want to have a superstitious value in your life. I want you be with me every second of my insignificant life and I want for others to know of it.
Yes, I will do your laundry and surprise you with breakfast in bed. I will bring you your juice when I get up to get myself some water and I will do all those little things that make you feel special. That make you feel important but what is really happening here, and you don't realise it because you're too fucking dense and think I am too much into you, which I am, I admit; is that you're serving the same need for me..
.. and before you go all judgmental on me, don't you see, we're in this together? As one? It's all pretty mutual if you ask me. I make you feel special and you make me feel.. special.

Q

Yeah, I think my ex called me selfish because she knows of my need to feel important and is aware of my knack of fetching attention and what's the word here.. inconspicuously?
By now I am sure you are taking my "condition" and my seriousness to this seemingly trivial need of seeking attention as perhaps a paraphilia. What you have done is.. your little mind which cannot understand me, has made you judge me. You think I should visit a shrink but I'll tell you, I doubt I am anything more than just normal.

Q

No, I don't want your sympathy. I want you to pity me and feel guilty for doing so because you think it hurts my pride.
While we're on the subject, I think pride is an overrated concept and its brothers ego and self esteem are much the same. One who has some, takes things to heart and lives a life of misery, generally speaking. It's not even one of those good-guys-have-it-bad kinda things. I think it's worse than that. It's true, I have conquered my pride and have none. ^[3]

Q

Sometimes it's like, after everything that we've been through together, of all the times I made you feel alright and after all the times you made me feel alright, your yeses and nos don't matter to me after all. I will just sit and stare at you and you will assume I am feeling something. Suddenly, you will start doing all the talking and then just when you think everything's gone I will say something like "I love you" which I obviously mean with all my heart, you will come crashing down into tears and you will hold me and kiss me and tell me we'll get through this and I know we will because I will in that moment do something really ordinary like wipe your tears with my favourite T-shirt and you will melt and tell all your friends at the sleepover what happened last night and how I just make everything okay by being me.
There, what you just did there, that makes me love you all the more.

Q

Yeah, I get discovered all the time. I mean people aren't foolish enough and I am transparent enough so yeah, I am discovered. People come to know of my needs but that doesn't bother me much. What does bother me however is the end and what people make out of it.

Q

Usually, even after we've been too long together to know exactly what the other wants and even after you get tired of my antics or maybe because you think I try to "impress" everyone and seek attention and we have a falling out and we stop talking, uh, you stop talking because it hurts too much to see me not care, I will make you believe that I still care and I swear by the Gods, I will only say it if I mean it which usually in those desperate moments, I do. I will tell you that I love you and I still remember what you told me one night when we were watching Sienfeld and you will tell yourself to not say something mushy and stupid but I will keep telling you how everything you ever told me still matters to me. I will tell you how I remember the night you got drunk you told me you hated me but then hugged me all throughout the night and you will tell me you remember it too and when you gather up all the courage to tell me you still love me (like a forbidden secret), I know it's a hug moment and I feel up to it and I know you are in need of a warm embrace too but uh, that's something I don't do most of the times. If I do it however, it doesn't imply you're special. It just means that I ditched the rule but I often try not to bring in such distractions when I am making a heartfelt speech. What I mean is, I will cherish everything you say and talk to you the whole night through. We will share feelings, talk about the past and everything that we were. I will trust you with my emotions and tell you that I am often unsure and I need people's approval to get me going. I will tell you how my life is what it is because I met you. I will tell you how I love my current partner a lot but we don't trust each other^[4]. I will tell you how carefree I felt when I was with you and how I still think that you're the best thing that ever happened to me and admit it, with sadness in my voice, that I will never stop having feelings for you no matter how cold you get towards me and I will say this not to comfort you because I know you feel bitter that I left you for another but because I really won't ever run out of feelings for you. I will also hold back my tears and confess that I did everything I could for you but perhaps it was not meant to be.
I will tell you everything I should and yes, I will be honest but you will not. You are too sore and your ego won't let you say any of the things that are going on in your head especially that repetitive 'I love you, please come back to me' but I understand all of that you feel so I will just look at you and try to hold onto that image of you like a photograph that you never let me take because you thought you were not good looking enough for pictures. You'll look at me too but you're strong so you will leave after it starts getting unbearable for you to know I am not yours anymore.

Q

Yeah, all that will happen. I make it happen so of course, when one of your good friends asks you "what happened to the two of you? You guys looked perfect", you'd probably just smile and say "it's gonna be hard to get over this one."


...

Back to post [1] I am not sure if they think they're being toyed with emotionally or that they are giving in to all my schemes and everything that I planned from the start but you should know that I am just mostly honest. More like utterly honest- so much so that the people I am dealing with don't have an official reason to complain.

Back to post [2]
I wouldn't mind it if you happen to mention it.

Back to post [3]
I will cry when I see you cry for a friend who lost her father but I will not do so in front of you. I will hold back my tears from falling but one of yours friends will tell you later about how I couldn't stand the sight of you in such selfless pain. Obviously, because you're you and just like me, you want attention too, you will ask me subtly if I really did tear up seeing you cry the other night and obviously, because I am me I will tell you most truthfully that yes, I did tear up and I would've cried if I were not man enough and that it was not your friend's loss but the sheer sight of you fading away in her grief that made me weak.

Back to post [4]
Here, I will have to mention how you love me a little (being humble) more than I love you and of course, knowing how you are, you'll feel bitter about it. I don't know why one would assume I am a bad person. I notice people, I know them yet I don't humiliate them and ignore everything apparent. Like in this case, I will notice how your expression changes. I mean you felt a little glad that we don't have faith in one another but your expression changed to awful when I said I was the one with the upper hand in the relationship.

So, it's like this..

Denial. Ignorance. Forgetfulness.

Ah, some of us are Lord's cherished children. Truly blessed. 

नंगू

Start From Scratch.. Or Not!

Yeah, I am back and I shall write.



I have been busy as hell the past one year dealing with a really 'professional' student life offered by the institute I am currently enrolled in. Yet again and like every other year, I pray I pass gracefully or, with grace marks.. whichever suits the teachers.

I have also shut down my Facebook page in order to flee from difficult folks, useless communication with unimportant people and updates that form the basis of a compelling today.

Last year was spent staying up nights finishing assignments, creating a really bad impression on a particular teacher (who is to decide my fate from the coming year) and traveling Bombay in local trains. The last year was also particularly happening for me because it was the first time I was away from my place for such a long time.. away from my parents, being independent. God, it sucks when stuff doesn't come ready-made. Seriously.
Also, I read a sufficient amount of books.. most of which I came to know through this bookslut and I do not bear a certain sense of pride when I say this but I am the kid who read the most number of books in my college. The reason why I am not proud of this apparent achievement is because design students don't read much at all and those who say they do.. well, they just say they do.
A formal list shall be put up as a separate post one of these days.

Home is good. For one, I get edible food to eat and two, I literally do whatever it is that I want to do.. which is not much considering I continue to be the lazy fuck I have always been.

I watch more T.V. than I read. I read more than I sleep. I sleep more than ever. So yeah, twenty-fours time makes for an insufficient day.

The coming semester is going to be a new pain in the ass. I am supposed to work with:
1. various design software
2. uncompromising models
3. judgmental teachers
4. ignorant working partners
5. surprising flat-mates
6. a new laptop
7. an epic camera.. hopefully
8. a back-ache
..if I said any further, I'd just be trying too hard to reach for a perfect 10.

Anyway, there are movies waiting to be seen, books willing to be read and a bed waiting to be slept on.

Yeah, I am back and I shall write.. later.

What sucks more?

Comparing things/situations/people is only obvious when one tends to think.

Like I was just wondering what sucks more. The fact that I couldn't clear NID or the fact that I did clear NIFT.

Have some more of those.
What sucks more..
Carrying no lunch to school or carrying some Parle-G biscuits?
Writing about yourself in your blog or writing about other people instead?
Not doing anything constructive or doing something totally destructive!?
Talking real or talking like a fool?
Being bad at Mathematics or holding wannabe knowledge of it?
Empathizing with a cynic or listening an optimist speak?
Being uncool or feeling unwanted?
Reading a manga or wasting time?
Looking at a genius express mediocrity in the best of ways or watching a mediocre not being able to figure it out at all??


Seriously.
What sucks more?

Bejin Hakumei updating her blog or just leaving it dead?

Bejin says...

Originality, sometimes, is just a matter of time.

An Analytical Tale Of Two Lost Souls

Disclaimer: Shoujo in it's content, lame otherwise and in addition, quite long (boring).


The following will be a rather analytical tale of two people of the opposite sex held together by some amount of mutual attraction for quite sometime but because I am a sucker for more realistic ends, I don't plan their admiration for each other to last an eternity. Anyway, according to the given condition, we have a man and a woman in this story. I will first sketch out a little of their character traits.
So, let's start by assuming the man to be a handsome youth over six feet, rich, with a sexy body. One who's a smooth bastard, dark, mysterious and above all a subtle womanizer. Hmm, quite a personality there! Idealizing the situation is okay for starters. About the girl, let's assume she's a shorty, not over 5' 4", independent, an appealing persona in a strange way, an individual in a nerdy fashion, wears specs, is satisfied with things more or less, terribly moody and a bit overly dense. How do they meet? Well, looking at how the characters are, there is hardly any resemblance, but supposedly they are both well read people, we can consider them meeting in a mutual club about the books and all.

...
Scene 1:

[A huge building right in the midst of the fast moving city life of Mumbai. From beggars to entrepreneurs to Bollywood celebrities, everyone can be majorly described as 'busy'. Inside this building is an auditorium where the rich and sophisticated individuals from the city gather together in the pretext of discussing books. Socialites, party freaks (who apparently are jobless during daytime), wannabe businesswomen etc. can be found here on Saturdays bitching about some others who couldn't make it that particular Saturday.]

Club President: We will continue like always. Please form groups of at least five people, discuss a book belonging to the genre of romance and then anyone can volunteer to submit a book review which in turn will be published in our monthly magazine.

[women chattering]

But, before that, I would like to introduce Mr. Bhasin to you all. After his graduation from the University of London, he has now moved to Mumbai in order to take care of his business here. Please make him feel welcomed.

[Mr. Bhasin is introduced to some of the people personally and he has no problem socializing with anyone. He is made to join a group of five where he is the only man. The women seem awfully happy about it. Random pseud discussions about books and other things which they would prefer calling 'life' continues until it's time to get ready for Mumbai's much talked about night life.]

Club President: Hopefully, you all must have been done by now. By next Saturday, I want a report from each of the seven groups. Thank you all. Have a nice day.

...
Scene 2

[The pseud crowd reunites once again this Saturday.]

Club President: Thank you all for your genuine interest. I have your reports here. Everyone please continue. This week's genre is fiction. Mr. Bhasin, can I have a kind word with you?

Mr. Bhasin: Certainly.

Club President: I really appreciate your enthusiasm and active participation, but now that you're here, you should know how this works. Your writing needs polishing and it can't be published the way you have written it. But don't worry, the published review will be in your name, Sir.

Mr. Bhasin (agitated but patient enough): I see.

Club President (nervous): ... if you want we can..

Mr. Bhasin (interrupts): It's not a problem. Anyway, can I go back to my seat now?

Club President: Ah, sure.

[Mr. Bhasin's ego is hurt but that is not enough for him to lose out on his sanity. Grinding his teeth doesn't help until he notices a rather fragile looking creature hiding her face within the shade of her left arm and scribbling out something passionately in what seemed like a rather worn out diary. Mr. Bhasin is struck by curiosity and he goes to sit right next to her. She doesn't notice him much.]

Mr. Bhasin: So, you don't seem too interested.

Woman: I am writing.

Mr. Bhasin: What exactly?

Woman: A review on Pride and Prejudice.

Mr. Bhasin: But.. er, I wrote one on it. They refused.

Woman (taking off her spectacles, she looks straight into his eyes without any fear): So it's you because of whom I have to write this shit in an hour's time.

Mr. Bhasin (taken aback for a second, then a smirk spreads across his handsome face): Yeah, it's me. They call me Mr. Bhasin.

Woman (puts on her spectacles and continues to scribble): Hmm, that rich guy 'Mr. President' was talking about. Anyway, I am Tarunima.

Mr. Bhasin: First name dealing here, eh!? Well then, call me Aniket.

Woman: You can call me Miss Sharma if you want.

Mr. Bhasin: No, Tarunima is fine by me. Anyway, what are you doing!? I mean, you don't look like you belong here. Furthermore, you're a kid, midget. What is your age? Twenty?

Tarunima: ..one! I am twenty-one. I work here as a part timer. I write them reviews and get paid a little from what you rich guys 'donate'. Poseurs.

Aniket: Whoa! You sure are pissed off! But you know what's great!? I am twenty-four. We could.. you know..

Tarunima: Please spare me, Your Highness.

Aniket: Haha..

...
Scene 3

[The following Saturday two socialites 'discuss' about Mr. Bhasin and 'that' girl's growing friendship.]

Mrs. Mathur: Who is that girl anyway!? I have never noticed her in any of the parties.

Miss Verma (giggles mockingly): Not to worry Mrs. Mathur, she's just some miserable girl dreaming to find her place in this city. Heard she works here as a part timer and gets paid for writing book reviews for our magazine. Can you beat that!

Mrs. Mathur: Who knows. Girls these days are ambitious even if they come from a strong family background. And she is young and pretty to some extent. I was thinking if I could set up Aniket with my daughter Meenakshi. You think he has already fallen in for this girl!?

Miss Verma: Oh no! Be assured. Meenakshi's going to make a good pair with him. All the luck, Mrs. Mathur.

Mrs. Mathur: I hope it's as you say. Thank you.

[While these two chitter-chatter about them, they on the other hand are discussing something totally unexpected.]

Tarunima: You really suck if you don't know what Dexter's Laboratory is.

Aniket: You can't possibly expect a businessman like me to know about.. err, whose laboratory!?

Tarunima (raises her eyebrows): Dexter's.

Aniket (laughs): I was kidding, you kid. And don't freak me out with that look on your face. I have seen Dexter's Lab once.

Tarunima: ONCE!? I will make you a DVD and you have to watch it.

Aniket: Oh come on.. I am a busy man. Cartoons are for kids like you.

Tarunima: Stop going to random parties and you will have a lot of spare time for yourself.

Aniket: Leave that. I just realised I really like talking to you, so let's meet up tomorrow for a cup of coffee.

Tarunima: For a coffee!? Man, you are so disappointing! You're rich to begin with, then you can't write convincingly, you give donations to these sophisticated clubs instead of giving it to homeless kids, then, you are a businessman and now coffee! You've got it all, all that's needed of a perfect pseud.

Aniket (smirks kindly): You want to go to a dhaaba?

Tarunima: I am busy.

Aniket: When are you free?

Tarunima: Next Saturday.

Aniket: Okay.

Tarunima (amused by the reaction for a second): Okay.

...
Scene 4

[Aniket in his posh convertible arrives ten minutes early that Saturday expecting Tarunima to be a punctual soul only to realise that she is not what she might seem to be. When the meeting is about to begin, Tarunima reaches her destination in an auto and though she is late it doesn't stop her from innocently requesting the auto driver to spare her five petty bucks. Aniket who was waiting for her outside all along, rushes towards her and pushing her back into the auto sits next to her and tells the auto driver to take them to Bhau Daji Lad Museum. Tarunima is dumbstruck.]

Tarunima: What exactly do you think you're doing!? We have to go to the meeting.

Aniket: We can bunk sometimes, ya' know?

Tarunima: I am not rich. I am paid man!

Aniket: Calm down.

Tarunima: But..

Aniket: I am not taking you for coffee, so you can stop cribbing.

Tarunima (smiles): And you're in an auto too!

Aniket: See!

[The rest of the day is spent together talking about things in general. About Aniket's life in London and Tarunima's life in Mumbai. About the rich and the poor. About her decision to make her life on her own and about his decision to continue his family's business. They travel around the city and have fun. Later that night...]

Aniket: So, are you dating someone?

Tarunima: You think I have the time to!? Living through the day is exhausting enough. I don't think I need a man to add to my troubles.

Aniket: I see..

Tarunima (teasingly): What about you? I bet you have girls all over you. You do have a girlfriend, no?

Aniket: I did. There was this girl whom I loved most sincerely but things didn't turn out the way we wanted. It ended up in a disaster, haha. After that, I had many relationships. Nothing worked out because I never fell in love again... I think it's an inability of sorts. To trust someone enough to submit yourself to them completely without giving it a second thought, is not my cup of tea. I am a rich guy, I party, I get high and mostly, I have a girl to get me through the night but it's a waste. They get attached and I don't feel a thing for them. I laugh at them for even thinking of stuff beyond the bed. I walk out when some slut wishes to have what they term as a 'pillow talk' with me.

Tarunima: I see... Don't worry. You'll get a slut to get you through your life.

Aniket: I think I have found one. She isn't really a slut but I think she'll be a wild kitty in bed!

Tarunima: Really!? Then go get her!

Aniket (initially straight faced, then he lights a cigarette, takes in a puff or two and smiles): Getting her... is going to take time.

Tarunima: You can fool around until then.

Aniket (teasingly): Yeah! I am game for that. Want to sleep me off tonight, Taru!?

Tarunima: Eww, never!

Aniket (thinks): It's going to take a long long time..

[This scenario of talking about stuff continues over days and it gradually begins to take shape when it turns into a sort of addiction wherein a day without a talk or two with the other, is not a day well spent. Aniket takes out Tarunima to various of his parties and sophisticated concerts. Tarunima on the other hand makes Aniket watch Dexter's Laboratory.]

...
Scene 5

Aniket: I was thinking, are we a couple?

Tarunima: Oh hell no!

Aniket: And why not.

Tarunima: For one, we don't make out.

Aniket: Oh well, I could do that.

Tarunima: Shut up!

Aniket: No seriously. Aren't we.. umm.. you know?

Tarunima: Aniket, you suck.

Aniket (smirks): You could do that too!

Tarunima: Oh come on! And anyway, what about that girl you liked eh!? You men, change over a matter of weeks!

Aniket (straight faced): You're dumb.

Tarunima: What did you say?

Aniket: No, you're dense.

Tarunima (silent)

Aniket: Don't you get it?

Tarunima: Okay, now I do. Be mature for a change.

Aniket (irritated): Fine. In fact, it's good this way, you know. I am too dark a guy for you anyway. In addition, you don't love me. No point. You're right. In fact, you always are. Anyway, I am going back to my place now. Too much bullshit. Let's call it a day.

Tarunima (silent)

[That night, Tarunima stays up throughout contemplating over what Aniket had said. She curses herself for being so dense. It's then that she realises that the kind of characters she hated the most is what she herself is. She feels miserable thinking of all the times Aniket did stuff for her but she never even noticed. To think of it now, gave her this weird feeling in her belly. Unable to sleep, she concludes it's been far too long she pursued her search for the ideal man she always dreamt of. Aniket was full of flaws. Definitely not what she wanted. He was rich, pampered, overly ambitious and fake when it came to the various subcultures she religiously followed. He was stupid and liked to think he was dark and incapable of loving. And while she thought of all this, it suddenly struck her that this was the guy who made her overthink! She hadn't done that for ages now. The last time she probably gave something a thought was when she left Kanpur and came to Mumbai to 'make it big' without the apparent approval of her parents. She was in... for him. That richie. That pseud.]

...
Scene 6

[The next week is painfully slow for the both of them. On one hand is Aniket, who is sure there is nothing beyond this and on the other hand is Tarunima, confused as to how to make things the way they were or maybe, they way they could be or more appropriately, should be. Both dread the coming Saturday. Aniket is not eager to face her and Tarunima is nervous how to do the talking. When they both see each other the following Saturday, Aniket sits with some other group and Tarunima can't do a thing because she has to write reviews for various books.]

Mrs. Mathur: Seems like these two aren't "friends" anymore.

Miss Verma (giggles): I told you, you needn't be afraid. After all.. she was just an ordinary girl. Mr. Bhasin had a fun time like always. I wonder if she charged him too.

Mrs. Mathur (laughs): Can't blame her for it though. It's tough to survive in this city if you're not one of us.

[Aniket over hears their talk. After sometime, they call it a day because of some political rally about to take place in sometime. Everyone takes their leave.]

Tarunima: Aniket!

Aniket (turns around): Yeah?

Tarunima: Umm.. I wanted to speak to you.

Aniket: About what?

Tarunima: Well, about what happened last time.

Aniket (fakes a laugh): Haha. Don't bother. I was just trying to have my way with you. Must admit you were a tough chic to crack!

Tarunima: I know I was ..not exactly..

Aniket: Look woman, I don't have any interest in you now. I am disappointed somehow.

Tarunima: Huh?

Aniket: See, I know you're dense so I'll spell this out for your convenience, I-don't-like-you. Okay? Now, if you could spare me, I have to go somewhere.

Tarunima: Wait. You needn't put up a show. I know..

Aniket (irritably): Tch. Please leave me be.

[Leaving a dumbfounded Tarunima behind, Aniket drives off in his black Merc. That night, Tarunima though hurt couldn't help but think that it was all because the last time they spoke, she didn't react the way she should have. She just knew he cared. And knowing how emotional he was, she decides to pursue him even if he keeps this up. She tries calling him but he doesn't pay heed and if he did, he'd be as passive as she'd never known him to be. She took all the insults of him calling her a slut, a greedy bitch etc. just because in her heart she knew he needed her and what was more that she needed him much the same.]

...
Scene 7

[Tarunima awaits the arrival of Aniket the following Saturday. When Aniket shows up, she goes straight to him and says she wants to talk it all out.]

Aniket (in a bored manner): Now what?

Tarunima (determined): Let's talk.

Aniket: About?

Tarunima: I'll be straight here. Be honest and tell me, do you like me or not.

Aniket: I did.

Tarunima: And now?

Aniket: 'Did' is past tense, right?

Tarunima: Cool.

Aniket (sarcastic laugh): I love it when you try to act all nonchalant. It's funny.

Tarunima: Hmm.

Aniket: Anyway, if we're done, please allow me to proceed to the hall.

Tarunima: Wait.

Aniket (turns around): Taru..nima, I am flying back to London by the end of this month. Please, don't bother me. Okay?

Tarunima: Okay.

Aniket (after a brief pause): I have left some CD's in my car.. for you. Take it as a parting gift.

Tarunima (in a heavy voice): I don't think I will like them.... Do me a favour and tell that fucking President that I am sick today but will be back next Saturday.

Aniket (restraining himself): Okay.

Tarunima (hurt and crapped up): Do you.. hate me?

Aniket: No. It's more like ...indifference.

Tarunima (smirks): Know what? You were right. You are damaged and I wanted to fix you up.. just like I love fixing up errors in general.

Aniket: Good you're out with it. I won't blame you for saying this. Now, goodbye.

Tarunima (smiles): Yeah, bye.

[Tarunima leaves. She thought she failed miserably. And, she hated it was true. It was her ego playing all along after all. It was just as he had once said to her, ''..you don't 'love' me, you just 'need' me...'' and, he was right. Only thing being, it was a condition sufficient for her to submit herself to him.]

...



Note: I hope this is came along as realistic as possible. And anyway, romance is an idealistic idea to begin with. Where sci-fi fails, romance excels cause exaggeration and out worldly things find it's place with or without reasons.

Tutorials-III

The following will be my final post of the tutorials series because I am not creative enough to come up with cool ideas on a regular basis. Also mentionable here is the fact that the given tips, suggestions, ideas and advise are for the single desperate losers.

YUME boy, do remember the great Bejin for her generosity!


Lesson 3

How to get yourself a boyfriend/girlfriend in 10 simple ways:

1. Assuming you are desperate enough to not demand, the first suggestion would be to at least put in efforts and try to lure the opposite sex. Make sure you are not in love with anyone beforehand cause it would lead to shitty (often hilarious for the others) circumstances.
2. Crucial note here is, that you have to be desperate enough yet not communicate your desperation to the other! This is when the subtlety comes into play. Be subtle and go with the flow.
3. Be presentable. This one is really important! Don't be a physically doomed person. You have to be the kinds your to-be girlfriend/boyfriend could possibly flaunt around. Being a shame to her/him will only lead stuff to a disastrous end sooner or later because you're not in love yet. Being in love is convenient because then you don't give a damn (as they say in shoujo manga and romantic novels). For further help in this sub category refer to lesson 2.
4. Don't be fake. Just somehow, I know the other person couldn't be that dumb. Or maybe they can but then if so is the case, you don't need tutorials. You can just fool them and get them to give you the kind of romantic pleasure you desire.
5. Set a target, get experimental and be convincing.
6. Don't be demanding. Always remember the fact that you're the one whose desperate, not them! The catch here is, never stoop low and beg the other cause that might lead to two situations. One, where they start considering you a nobody and take you for granted. Two, they start considering you for a competent servant.
7. Be confident. That's true for everything. Sometimes a wrong person with great confidence can make you doubt yourself.
8. Be aware. Awareness here should not be confused with being aware about global warming and soil erosion. Be aware of your target mission. Get to know about their likes and dislikes. Act accordingly, make them take notice of you and just get them to like you. After that, it's an easy manipulation.
9. Honesty. Don't lie about stuff like your past records, relationships and life in general. A lie is caught sooner or later and from what I know, many people aren't liberal enough to take you after that without being judgmental.
10. Have a confidante by your side to help you out in crucial situations. Bejin's awesome tutorials are not a user specific guidance. Also, make sure your 'confidante' is not your jealous 'friend' head over heels for the girl/guy you're gawking at.


Note: Do not complain if this doesn't help. Remember, this is not the genre BH deals in. All she has done is just read over a hundred shoujo manga, watched some related movies and been a fan of Rumiko Takahashi and Jane Austen in her pre-teens.

Tutorials-II

Bejin is back on blogger once again and this time, with a new list of suggestions, tips and advise for her humble followers.


Lesson 2

How to look sexy in 10 simple ways:

1. Wear cool clothes. Now this one might come out as tricky, for everyone has an individual sense of style and fashion, but majorly, stuff can be broadly divided as cool and uncool. If you don't have faith in your choice, consult a relatively better and fashion conscious friend. If your friends suck much the same, please pray.
2. Accessories. This one is important in a religious sort of way. The kind of accessory you adorn, reflects your personality, taste and choice. Watches, arm bands, neck pieces, belts, beaded jewelery etc. come in this category. Take time to choose your kind of accessory and make sure you don't just wear anything and everything.
3. Elegance is crucial. Remember, everything is acceptable and even appreciated if it is elegant and graceful enough.
4. Keep it simple. People who overdo, suck. Simpleton is awesome.
5. The hair! A major area to direct your kind attention to. A good hairstyle makes the ugliest of creatures look good. This might not be an easy task for frizzy, curly and sometimes, even for straight haired fucks, hence, I suggest you consult a hairstylist.
6. Now because we really are discussing about how one can try to look sexy, talking about footwear is only natural. Mismatch and randomness doesn't help, neither does ignorance. The footwear must be well in sequence with the clothes. Imagine high heels on baggy pants and a lose T-shirt.
7. A good face always helps but if your parents were some alien from Hooga-Land, make-up is just the thing that might be of some help to you. For girls, simple black eye paint and lip gloss would be cool enough. Try a little blush on and eye shadow, if you know you can carry it off. For the guys, it's necessary to know if facial hair do you justice or not. Get a beard style that fits your face cut and features and you're done. Guys can't do much anyway.
8. Knowledge about oneself is necessary. One must be aware of their assets and hold the knowledge to flaunt it well too. Booby bitches, butt sexy hotties, clean chested guys, long legged females, muscular men, pretty handed lot, nice feet people, whatever, just be aware and do the needful.
9. Color scheme plays a crucial role. One could look sexy in a flashy orange and look pathetic in black if you don't do the selecting job well. Color matters. A lot! Wearing a green tie with a blue coat, white shirt and brown pants will lead you nowhere and a very matchy-matchy selection might be equally disastrous as well. So, a simple trick is to not wear more than three colors and make sure there is a little something to break the monotony of the scheme yet not hamper the elegance of the whole look. Wear what you can carry off well.
10. And in the end, I suggest you give up. On a personal level, I just know, some people can never look good no matter what they try to do, hence, just give up or... get a plastic surgery done and rob a bank in order to buy yourself expensive and sexy clothes, accessories etc.


PS: Out of all the crap mentioned above, pay heed only to point no.10 because it's the most well thought of, realistic and direct approach to this lesson.
PPS: Zetsuboushita? Well, just curse the sexy and pray to the Lord Almighty for a better face and physique in the next life.

Tutorials-I

Here's Bejin Hakumei with her free of cost, oft-repeatedly exclusive and kickass tutorials to help her followers grow.


Lesson 1

How to act cool in 10 simple ways:

1. Freak out at the mention of the word 'music' and talk about the various famous (rock) bands.
2. Tell, you read. A lot.
3. Say "dude, you're paranoid" whenever you can't come back with a witty reply.
4. Use the word 'cinema' instead of movie/film/picture.
5. Admit, you don't give a damn.
6. Make efficient use of the word 'fuck' (in other words, use it at least twice in a single sentence).
7. Nonchalance!
8. I am not too sure of this one, but experts suggest wearing converse.
9. Slogan T-shirts with Che Guevara's illustration in it, help a lot.
10. Finally, just say you hate pseuds like Bejin Hakumei.


Hope this helped.
If not, I suggest you re-read the word 'free' in the opening lines of this post.

Ballerina Blackouts

Ballerina Blackouts is the name of my own comic strip.

*junta claps*

I haven't given much thought to it though.

*junta loses interest*

But! But, I do have a clue!

*junta listens*

The idea is to create a 16 year old girl, facing everyday shit while struggling with her hormonal changes and new-found interests. This will be her tale wherein she will portray a rather weak character of an uninteresting person. She'll be the kinds who try and often fail but never really give in. The kinds who are a loser in almost every way and the kinds who often end up taking advise from their friends. She might occasionally get witty and be appreciated by the fellow characters.
The characters' name have still not been decided.
The confusion is because Indian names somehow suck when it comes to all this and well, Western names are not what I am looking for. One way is to chuck both Hindi and English and seek refuge in the ultra cool Japanese language but that option is ruled out because half of you won't appreciate it. So then the name deciding is left for later.

In the beginning, the strip will be uploaded randomly but after getting the Photogenic Devil and a few others to beg for it, I might as well make it weekly.


This is what it might look like, in all probability.





PS: If this continues, I might create a new label!

It So Happened..

They entered my room and tried to get me out of my bed in the hopes of seeing a whacked out me. I lay lazily still, looked at them with weary eyes, yawned some then went back to reading a particular piece of literary shit I had in hand that time. For some reason, they seemed irritated, as if they didn't know me at all. Maybe the irritation was the result of them knowing me so very well. I don't know.
My ignoring them led them to getting scattered in different parts of my room. While Freddy was looking for a good read, Hally checked out her new outfit, which she bought on her way back home, yesterday. It's amusing to see how excited she was about a stupid dress.
.
.
.
Okay, damn! No matter how indifferent and cool I try to act, that black dress sure as hell caught my eye. Anyway, moving on, 'Man' (as we call him, contrary to his physique), sat next to me and asked me to get up and get ready for the "ride of my life". I showed no interest whatsoever, which kinda made him, umm.. anxious? Maybe. As it is I am bad with my expression skills. Not that it bothers me, or just maybe.. it does.
So then anyway, Hally shot up suddenly and said: "How about we plan a meeting with Fyodor and make these two talk it out!? That will set her spirits just as we want!"

For some reason, it didn't bother me at all but I think Freddy passed a subtle glare at Hally cause she suddenly cooled down just as she shot up. Man on the other hand was thinking. About what.. I am clueless. I think it was those burgers we had just before Fyodor and I had that huge argument but then again, maybe not.

It's been three weeks since I last spoke to Fyodor, I wonder what he must be doing. I know! It must be his little turtle he must be playing with. Oh I am so sure! With Fyodor, things are constant. He's too typical to be mistaken. 'Predictable' would be the word, I guess... (!?)

And haha, while I gave stuff a thought, I guess it was Freddy who was smirking and Man who suddenly exclaimed "Get up woman! You're not even reading that damned shit." It was then that I think I smiled after quite a while. Not that I am some emo sucker but because I am too lazy to smile back. No, honestly! Hally was kinda relieved seeing me smile. Okay, who am I trying to fool this once, it's just her dress she's in love with currently.

So then anyway, the guys moved out of my room and Hally stayed back. Freddy's got some neat choice when it comes to books, contrary to his dressing sensibilities. He picked up Love in the Time of Cholera, which is kinda new, cause Freddy is hardly the sentimental types. He's more into umm.. let's say Hitler and the Nazis.
So whatever, I kinda got dressed up for a bit. Now, don't get ideas, it was just a black Nirvana T-shirt with my normal blue jeans. But I was kinda conscious cause Hally wore this umm.. sexy (!?) halter neck blouse with a cute little blue skirt. Well, so we all went out of my place, got into a cab and went to this new bar which went by the flashy name of The Zeitgiests, and for wannabe intellectual suckers like us, it was the place to get as hell drunk or.. maybe not!
Freddy kinda seemed a little more serious than the usual, because he ordered coke with chicken strips instead of beer with chicken legs. I wonder what's wrong with these guys.. except that Man is still the dumb old him and Hally.. well, the same old fancy dress woman and hence, basically it was only Freddy who was so very... umm, no, a little weird that day. Except that I get what's bothering him and I don't like what it is but who'd tell him about it all.. not me, for sure.

That day went by casually. We were sipping our cokes, fighting over the last piece of the chicken strip and well, talking... about random dreams, some new alternative rock band which Man hated, chicken strips, beer and life in general. It was then that Freddy suddenly spoke of Fyodor, and it was just then that I realised, that it didn't bother me. At all. I suddenly got trapped in this void of introspection and realised that nothing and none meant anything to me as such. It was all so trivial.. Hally, Freddy, Man, Fyodor, my parents, my neighbour, his cat and her blue bell. All of it, all of them.. I wonder what caused me to make up for such a brilliant stone.

So while I thought of the various possibilities of why I turned into a stoic, I felt a hand touch my right shoulder. It was Man. I think he wanted to console me or something. Suddenly, Freddy stepped forward and just hugged me. It was weird to be honest. He has never been that way. Never! I just patted his back. That's my way to tell people off, but Freddy.. he just hugged me, even tighter and even so I didn't feel "warm" as they describe it in shoujo manga.

I said: Freddy, it's alright.
He said: No, it's not.
I said: Okay.. but what exactly are we talking about!?
He said: About you and... Fyodor and..
I said: Fyodor? And...!?
He said: Me.
I said: What about you?

He then pushed me back and I think his eyes were moist or just maybe... it was the disco lights.

He said: You don't have to act in front of us.

Hally and Man just looked as him in great amusement. If I weren't this lazy, I would've laughed back then.

I said: Dude, got fever or something!?
He said: Let's just drop this, okay?
I said: Cool.
He said: FINE!

And just like that he was gone. Just like Fyodor.
Man went after him while Hally stood next to me.

I said: What was that again!?
Hally said: I.. have no clue.
I said: It's cool.

While we spoke of having no clue and being scandalised by Freddy's new avtaar, Man came in panting and said "I'll drop you at Hally's place tonight. Okay by you?" and I said "cool".

That night, while Hally showed me more of her dresses and nail paints and jewelery, I noticed, that no matter how indifferent I am towards my friends, they are the ones I most think about. In moments of introspection, they are my experimental guineas.
I suddenly felt the urge to call both the eff dudes and make up with them but not knowing how to go about it made me all weary and I ended up just sleeping, like any other day. I think, it's my cave to hide in, my way to give in, my way to resent, repent and give way...


..Or, maybe not!


PS: My longest post so far.
PPS: Say "ooh shaa!" XD

Realisations, Resolutions and Resurrection

Reading her last post made her realise the ever so subconsciously known fact that she sucked at writing in the third person and after a rather long and never ending break from the virtual world of the Wired, Bejin Hakumei is now back and she has vowed upon a certain loser's name (not yet known) to never bore her dimwitted blog friends, wannabe blog followers and the general junta with her retarded writing.


And now that she is so over the "third person" disease, she's also willing to make the resurrection of her ever so dead ambitions known to public. Alas, ambition would be too strong a word for a character so astonishingly weak as her, when it comes to resolutions, but it ought to be done.


Bejin looks forward to the day when she will get some serious art done. She is determined to make some hundred doodles everyday starting this July 20th. She has also from a certain Junkie, been inspired to do a little sculpting. She will also start her own art blog wherein she will upload her artworks, designs and other related stuff. She also plans to later make art on demand (i.e., when she has enough knowledge about the human anatomy, animation on paper, sketching, painting etc.)
She also plans to read all of what her brother left at home (part of them are done with already) and watch good cinema. Moreover, she shall watch anime like she never did and hell, she also plans on reading most of the manga up there on OneManga.

She plans to also...

Bejin Hakumei: Just don't keep farting all you like.

. . .

Sayonara, Zetsubou Me!

I was worried for long.
Why?
Well because I normally keep getting these suicidal mood swings which make me plan out schemes in order to carry out the related tasks, but all this while, a month or two to be precise, I was thoroughly contented. No motives, no evil, nothing gloomy, nothing bad as such and certainly nothing good.

Ah, normal bliss was what it was. And that's the very reason why I was so anxious.
I knew I had to take the blow someday. Each casually-normal-good-day brought me closer to my ultimate nightmare.
Yeah, academics it is, yet again.

In a matter of days my results will be out and I, with passive reluctance wait for the ultimate shit. I, sure as hell, can't escape this one!

.
.
.
.
.

Reader: So? What's the point!?

Bejin Hakumei: Umm... zetsuboushita?