‘ALL I HAVE TO DO... IS JUST GO BACK TO SLEEP...’
1. Ding! Dong! – the doorbell rings
Ummh! I opened my eyes, looked at my cell phone – 8am, Sunday, November 19. It’s the maid; she usually goes after ringing the bell thrice and it is Sunday anyway... all I have to do... is just go back to sleep.
But the sink – full of dirty dishes from yesterday’s dinner.
The living room – wood shavings and cardboard boxes from the AC repairs.
And clothes – I’ve run out of clean undies...
2. Ding! Dong!
Slipping into my tee I flung the sheet and rushed, passing the stale food smell in the kitchen and walking through the dirty living room floor
3. Ding! Dong!
I turned the knob... She’s left already… like always. A bundle of newspapers were all that is left at the doorstep.
A quick cup of coffee – hot water + a sachet of Nescafe’s 3-in-1
Music – iMac > Itunes > Recent play list > John Lennon > Imagine...
Imagine there’s no heaven
It’s easy if you try, no hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today...
First sip: Front page – World Leaders meet for global peace and harmony; Consensus on ban on nuclear weapons; Peace talks between Israel and Palestine initiated…
Second sip: Second page – Breakthrough development in AIDS vaccine; African child cured after going through a month long treatment; Wonder AIDS vaccine to be made available worldwide...
Third sip: Third page – Discovery report claims the rise of population of many endangered species in major parts of the world; World Wildlife Fund activist gets Nobel Prize; Migratory birds return to the gulf...
Fourth sip: Fourth page – String theory finally tested realizing Einstein’s dream; the theory of everything to reveal the mysteries of the universe; Traces of early life form found in Mars...
Fifth sip: Fifth page – International Year of Conservation announced; scientists successfully tested non-polluting energy source; Global warming reduced alarmingly...
Ding! Dong!
I turned the knob once again… ‘Hey! Dude, see what I’ve got’. Waving the movie tickets Karan walks in. ‘Casino Royale, 9.30 show’, ‘Not bad, want some coffee?’’ No I just had, let me check my mail’ he heads towards my iMac which is in the middle of the John Lennon classic.
... Imagine all people living live in peace
‘Did you read the papers today’, ‘Yeah man, unbelievable – finally I am beginning to believe that Nostradamus was wrong about the doomsday’ Karan replied opening his Gmail account.
Triiiiinnnng! Triiinnng!
The intercom telephone rings. ‘Hello’, ‘Saheb aapke liye letter he’('Sir you have a letter') It’s Ramu Bhai, the gatekeeper. ‘Hey Karan, I am back in a minute, just lock the door’, ‘Cool’ Karan replied, his eyes still glued on to the monitor.
I closed the lift door pressed “G” button of the lift and it went 3… 2… 1… G… I opened the metal grill door of the lift. Ramu bhai who was waiting hands me a white envelop with a grin, I smiled back ‘thank you’. Closing lift door I opened the white envelop to find a letter that reads ‘for your dreams to come true, you have to wake up’ and the lift stops at the third floor. Tucking the letter in my pocket I pushed the doorbell...
Ding! Dong!
Ummh! I opened my eyes, looked at my cell phone – 8am, Sunday, November 19. It’s the maid; she usually goes after ringing the bell thrice and it is Sunday anyway… all I have to do...
...is go back to sleep
Ding! Dong!
Monday, November 20, 2006
Friday, November 17, 2006
Dreams: Sequence 01
'LIFE LIES IN SMALL MOMENTS WE OFTEN MISS...'
Babies crying… lots of them, fair and fat babies, on a bed in a room. They all look alike... 4-6 months old babies, one of them cursed me... 'fuck face'. I hit the baby’s lips gently...'no!' The baby sweared again 'cunt' I hit harder, the baby cried louder.. swearing.
The sound of the gardener trimming the hedge woke me... it was 4.15 pm.
I went out to check the fresh dent on my new car. Couldn’t believe Ajay would be so mindless trying to drive the bees from the creeper-roof that shelters my car, burning a cloth bundle wrapped on an iron rod. The rod fell on the bonnet making a fine dent chipping off the midnight-blue paint. No matter how hard I try, I don’t fail to see new scratches on my once spotless car a week ago, everyday.
‘Mutations’ arrived from Amazon much before the estimated time, in fact almost a month early. While my ‘No Objection Certificate’ from the bank, which financed my previous car, is delayed by more than a month, the reason “system malfunction!”... What system??
Yesterday, I attended a Bob Dylan concert. There were disabled people – a deformed child, unusual characters singing Dylan numbers through their nose. I even went backstage for his autograph on my sweatshirt, he wrote Dylan – rest I don’t remember. I must have fallen asleep after chatting with Karan on yahoo. He didn’t seem too bothered by the recent series of blasts in London, even though he was there. He was very charged and stressed. Told me he has more money now than he’s ever had and his life is thousand times worse than it has ever been. He had the opposite opinion on everything we discussed, but we agreed on few things – life lies in small moments we often miss; like cooking, it’s the balance of the ingredients that makes a good dish and that the happiest person on earth surely must be a good cook. We laughed!
Most of my day went trying to watch the end of a flick I downloaded through P2P. It took me almost a week, I had watched most of it in parts while downloading, but the forward function on the media player wouldn’t work today. I tried to sleep for a bit, but the knock on my door wouldn’t let me. It was Ajay, asking me what to cook for dinner. As the day dusks, the glow of my laptop’s LCD gets brighter. “To my best buddy” – I wrote on the title page of ‘Mutations’. It was a surprise gift for her, which I revealed while tracking the order online at her place. It will still be surprise, now that it has arrived early...
Babies crying… lots of them, fair and fat babies, on a bed in a room. They all look alike... 4-6 months old babies, one of them cursed me... 'fuck face'. I hit the baby’s lips gently...'no!' The baby sweared again 'cunt' I hit harder, the baby cried louder.. swearing.
The sound of the gardener trimming the hedge woke me... it was 4.15 pm.
I went out to check the fresh dent on my new car. Couldn’t believe Ajay would be so mindless trying to drive the bees from the creeper-roof that shelters my car, burning a cloth bundle wrapped on an iron rod. The rod fell on the bonnet making a fine dent chipping off the midnight-blue paint. No matter how hard I try, I don’t fail to see new scratches on my once spotless car a week ago, everyday.
‘Mutations’ arrived from Amazon much before the estimated time, in fact almost a month early. While my ‘No Objection Certificate’ from the bank, which financed my previous car, is delayed by more than a month, the reason “system malfunction!”... What system??
Yesterday, I attended a Bob Dylan concert. There were disabled people – a deformed child, unusual characters singing Dylan numbers through their nose. I even went backstage for his autograph on my sweatshirt, he wrote Dylan – rest I don’t remember. I must have fallen asleep after chatting with Karan on yahoo. He didn’t seem too bothered by the recent series of blasts in London, even though he was there. He was very charged and stressed. Told me he has more money now than he’s ever had and his life is thousand times worse than it has ever been. He had the opposite opinion on everything we discussed, but we agreed on few things – life lies in small moments we often miss; like cooking, it’s the balance of the ingredients that makes a good dish and that the happiest person on earth surely must be a good cook. We laughed!
Most of my day went trying to watch the end of a flick I downloaded through P2P. It took me almost a week, I had watched most of it in parts while downloading, but the forward function on the media player wouldn’t work today. I tried to sleep for a bit, but the knock on my door wouldn’t let me. It was Ajay, asking me what to cook for dinner. As the day dusks, the glow of my laptop’s LCD gets brighter. “To my best buddy” – I wrote on the title page of ‘Mutations’. It was a surprise gift for her, which I revealed while tracking the order online at her place. It will still be surprise, now that it has arrived early...
Addiction & Loss
‘OUR LIVES REVOLVED AROUND THE STUFF,
THE ONLY WAY OUT WAS IN’
Isn’t Jayanta Andy’s friend,” I heard my father asking, his voice stern, matter-of-fact. “He’s hanged himself.” “What? But we were together, just last night.” I sprang from my bed in disbelief.
It all began the summer Amo introduced us to cough syrup — Phensedyl to be precise. “It’s the coolest stuff, kids — no smell, tastes good, lasts long and you don’t even get drunk like with booze. You stay sober but the trip is amazing.” On and on he went till we were ready to plunge. And we did.
Next thing, we had a couple of Phensedyl bottles, one shared between two. With his thumb on the halfway mark, Jayanta took the first gulp, then Robi, then Deb and finally me. An hour later, we were as sober as Amo predicted, but nothing happened, no trip. We cursed Amo and dispersed. I went home, pulled out my comics and began reading. And I read and read till I realised it was almost morning. My throat was dry, my voice heavy and I was actually feeling pretty great. I was in a different world. I felt good about everything: talking, listening, reading. The others came back with similar experiences. Robi rendered a sketch of a girl all night, only to realise he hadn’t gone beyond the breasts. Jayanta kept cleaning his room over and over again.
That was the turning point. We liked Phensedyl and we began consuming it. Almost everyday we’d take turns and land up at different medical stores to buy our stuff before heading to school. Sometimes we’d pretend to have bad colds; sometimes we’d just say, very casually, “Can you give us some cough syrup, eh? I think Phensedyl is good… thank you.” In school, we became the most well-behaved students from being the worst. Started enjoying the voice of our otherwise dreaded Hindi teacher. We’d sit in the sun during the hot summer recess, watching the other students silently. Then there was the famous black tea in the school canteen, which would recharge us back to where we began the trip. But the end of the trip was the worst; we felt drowsy, irritable, tired. The only way to get out was to get in again. And we felt just fine, in the new world we had created.
We were on a ride and the ride continued till suspicion caught up with us. The medical stores would no longer supply us without a prescription. But it was too late, we were hooked and we had to find a substitute. So began our quest to find other preparations, chemically similar to Phensedyl. Codeine!! Present in high amounts in Phensedyl and in Tossex and in Corex and in Benadryl. It went on and on. A whole new world all thanks to chemistry.
One year down, our lives revolved around discovering and trying out different combinations, recipes and styles of consuming our stuff. Cigarettes and hot tea are good, bananas after suck, sunbathing is perfect, watching a movie is wonderful and a head massage is divine.Our dose increased and we needed the stuff for everything — dates, exams, meeting relatives, even otherwise. And it started affecting our health, but that never stopped us.
By then the cough syrup bug had infected almost every teenager in town. Soon the medical stores also stopped selling the other syrups without prescription. They even put in complaints to the police. Life became tough, and we were back to studying chemistry again. But this time it was a tablet – N10 or Nitrazepam, a sleeping pill, which in large doses produces hallucinations. N10 was much easier to get and consume than the syrups, but unlike the syrups, the tablets would make us aggressive. Sometimes they would knock us out for days. Sometimes you just couldn’t remember certain parts of your life — what you did, what you said. The most dicey part about the N10 trip was that when you thought of doing something, you’d find the next moment you’d already done it.
But our parents could never figure out what we were up to till the time a travelling fair visited our town, complete with ferris wheels, magic shows, joyrides, the works, all of which we’d enjoy on our N10 trips after school. One night, Jayanta, who was alone, picked up a fight with the fair volunteers over some ticket payment. He smashed a guy’s face on the ticket counter and the entire lot attacked him with rods. He was bruised. We all got pissed off — that night we ganged up and waited on the bridge over the river which separated the fair ground from the main town. We waited till they had crossed — they didn’t see us. Once they were over, we chased them and hammered them, one after the other. After about 15 or 20 minutes, we disappeared, leaving them shocked and wounded.
The next day we were the talk of the town. Our parents began uncovering our secret extracurricular activities. The police arrested Jayanta as he was the only one the people from the fair could identify. But our parents knew and were very disappointed.
Gradually things cooled down and our parents collectively decided that we were not to hang out together anymore. It didn’t stop us from doing so in school, but it was not the same. I, for one, had started to worry about my studies. Summer 1989, I won a scholarship to Mayo College, Ajmer, a scholarship for which both Jayanta and I had applied. I took it straightaway — I knew this was the time to get out, I had to get away, away from my friends, my home and the world we had created.
In Mayo many things changed, I learned new things, made new friends and, most importantly, discovered myself. Back home in Manipur, the choices were not quite the same for Jayanta, Robi and others. Jayanta was now selling N10 tablets to support his habit, Robi was a dropout while Deb was linked with an underground outfit.
1990, I went home for my first summer break. My parents were delighted and I was glad to be home. That evening, one of my friends who was standing for the college elections invited all of us to help in his campaign. We all got together at our favourite hangout, the bridge. Then Jayanta came along, shabbily dressed and bit zonked. He wasn’t all that delighted to see me, but we shook hands nonetheless and started to talk. I told stories about the outside world and he listened quietly. In the middle of the conversation he asked me whether I could lend him some dough. My reaction was spontaneous: “Dude, you’re still into it? It’s high time you gave the real sufferers a chance.” Did I mean that? I still don’t know. We all went on with the campaign. Jayanta went his way. And that was the last time I ever saw him. Apparently that night he drank, had two strips of N10 and watched Escape to Victory with Robi, flipping a coin all the while. After the film he talked about being fed up with life and also wanted to listen to his favourite song. But Robi had to return home early, leaving him all by himself.
It’s believed that even the flutter of a butterfly’s wing or the turn of a leaf affects the overall weather pattern and that’s why it is impossible to give accurate weather predictions. Do such incidents change the course of one’s life?
Robi is married with a kid but it’s still difficult for him to stay away from the stuff. Deb is missing after he was arrested and then released for his underground links. But Jayanta still remains on my conscience. Was he hoping for tails instead of heads while flipping the coin? Did he want to listen to his song so he could be with someone a little longer? Would he have ended his life if he hadn’t ever had the stuff?
Nov 11 , 2006
THE ONLY WAY OUT WAS IN’
Isn’t Jayanta Andy’s friend,” I heard my father asking, his voice stern, matter-of-fact. “He’s hanged himself.” “What? But we were together, just last night.” I sprang from my bed in disbelief.It all began the summer Amo introduced us to cough syrup — Phensedyl to be precise. “It’s the coolest stuff, kids — no smell, tastes good, lasts long and you don’t even get drunk like with booze. You stay sober but the trip is amazing.” On and on he went till we were ready to plunge. And we did.
Next thing, we had a couple of Phensedyl bottles, one shared between two. With his thumb on the halfway mark, Jayanta took the first gulp, then Robi, then Deb and finally me. An hour later, we were as sober as Amo predicted, but nothing happened, no trip. We cursed Amo and dispersed. I went home, pulled out my comics and began reading. And I read and read till I realised it was almost morning. My throat was dry, my voice heavy and I was actually feeling pretty great. I was in a different world. I felt good about everything: talking, listening, reading. The others came back with similar experiences. Robi rendered a sketch of a girl all night, only to realise he hadn’t gone beyond the breasts. Jayanta kept cleaning his room over and over again.
That was the turning point. We liked Phensedyl and we began consuming it. Almost everyday we’d take turns and land up at different medical stores to buy our stuff before heading to school. Sometimes we’d pretend to have bad colds; sometimes we’d just say, very casually, “Can you give us some cough syrup, eh? I think Phensedyl is good… thank you.” In school, we became the most well-behaved students from being the worst. Started enjoying the voice of our otherwise dreaded Hindi teacher. We’d sit in the sun during the hot summer recess, watching the other students silently. Then there was the famous black tea in the school canteen, which would recharge us back to where we began the trip. But the end of the trip was the worst; we felt drowsy, irritable, tired. The only way to get out was to get in again. And we felt just fine, in the new world we had created.
We were on a ride and the ride continued till suspicion caught up with us. The medical stores would no longer supply us without a prescription. But it was too late, we were hooked and we had to find a substitute. So began our quest to find other preparations, chemically similar to Phensedyl. Codeine!! Present in high amounts in Phensedyl and in Tossex and in Corex and in Benadryl. It went on and on. A whole new world all thanks to chemistry.
One year down, our lives revolved around discovering and trying out different combinations, recipes and styles of consuming our stuff. Cigarettes and hot tea are good, bananas after suck, sunbathing is perfect, watching a movie is wonderful and a head massage is divine.Our dose increased and we needed the stuff for everything — dates, exams, meeting relatives, even otherwise. And it started affecting our health, but that never stopped us.
By then the cough syrup bug had infected almost every teenager in town. Soon the medical stores also stopped selling the other syrups without prescription. They even put in complaints to the police. Life became tough, and we were back to studying chemistry again. But this time it was a tablet – N10 or Nitrazepam, a sleeping pill, which in large doses produces hallucinations. N10 was much easier to get and consume than the syrups, but unlike the syrups, the tablets would make us aggressive. Sometimes they would knock us out for days. Sometimes you just couldn’t remember certain parts of your life — what you did, what you said. The most dicey part about the N10 trip was that when you thought of doing something, you’d find the next moment you’d already done it.
But our parents could never figure out what we were up to till the time a travelling fair visited our town, complete with ferris wheels, magic shows, joyrides, the works, all of which we’d enjoy on our N10 trips after school. One night, Jayanta, who was alone, picked up a fight with the fair volunteers over some ticket payment. He smashed a guy’s face on the ticket counter and the entire lot attacked him with rods. He was bruised. We all got pissed off — that night we ganged up and waited on the bridge over the river which separated the fair ground from the main town. We waited till they had crossed — they didn’t see us. Once they were over, we chased them and hammered them, one after the other. After about 15 or 20 minutes, we disappeared, leaving them shocked and wounded.
The next day we were the talk of the town. Our parents began uncovering our secret extracurricular activities. The police arrested Jayanta as he was the only one the people from the fair could identify. But our parents knew and were very disappointed.
Gradually things cooled down and our parents collectively decided that we were not to hang out together anymore. It didn’t stop us from doing so in school, but it was not the same. I, for one, had started to worry about my studies. Summer 1989, I won a scholarship to Mayo College, Ajmer, a scholarship for which both Jayanta and I had applied. I took it straightaway — I knew this was the time to get out, I had to get away, away from my friends, my home and the world we had created.
In Mayo many things changed, I learned new things, made new friends and, most importantly, discovered myself. Back home in Manipur, the choices were not quite the same for Jayanta, Robi and others. Jayanta was now selling N10 tablets to support his habit, Robi was a dropout while Deb was linked with an underground outfit.
1990, I went home for my first summer break. My parents were delighted and I was glad to be home. That evening, one of my friends who was standing for the college elections invited all of us to help in his campaign. We all got together at our favourite hangout, the bridge. Then Jayanta came along, shabbily dressed and bit zonked. He wasn’t all that delighted to see me, but we shook hands nonetheless and started to talk. I told stories about the outside world and he listened quietly. In the middle of the conversation he asked me whether I could lend him some dough. My reaction was spontaneous: “Dude, you’re still into it? It’s high time you gave the real sufferers a chance.” Did I mean that? I still don’t know. We all went on with the campaign. Jayanta went his way. And that was the last time I ever saw him. Apparently that night he drank, had two strips of N10 and watched Escape to Victory with Robi, flipping a coin all the while. After the film he talked about being fed up with life and also wanted to listen to his favourite song. But Robi had to return home early, leaving him all by himself.
It’s believed that even the flutter of a butterfly’s wing or the turn of a leaf affects the overall weather pattern and that’s why it is impossible to give accurate weather predictions. Do such incidents change the course of one’s life?
Robi is married with a kid but it’s still difficult for him to stay away from the stuff. Deb is missing after he was arrested and then released for his underground links. But Jayanta still remains on my conscience. Was he hoping for tails instead of heads while flipping the coin? Did he want to listen to his song so he could be with someone a little longer? Would he have ended his life if he hadn’t ever had the stuff?
Nov 11 , 2006
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