Listen!!!!!!!!

What I do here, is express my opinion. It's not so much to influence your decisions on what to think about whatever, it's practicing my freedom of speech. It's practicing the evolution of ideas, if for nobody elses benefit, then my own.

I'm not Maddox. I am quite the anti-social narcissistic schizoid, sure, but I still think myself to be a pretty lenient kind of guy. If you have opinions that have just the necessary basic roots in reality, I am willing to hear your argument out, and be open to constructive criticism.

But when people choose to be Thomas de Torquemada the Second, that's when they cross the fucking line. Newsflash for you maggots, nobody cares about whatever crusade you got, other than the fact that it might be useful entertainment. Monty Python's Life of Brian comes to mind, with the line-up of preachers in town, stating what their belief and view on life is, and people just standing around objectively watching because hey, they got nothing else to do, why the fuck not?

And those that believed any of it, well they ended up molesting altar boys and being general tools.

Life is supposed to be a fucking catharsis. Don't let the collective idiocy of religion or peer pressure fucking ruin that for you. Whatever you do is right for you, but the general rule is that it's never right for anybody else. That's why you should a) never preach to the flock of sheep that will not listen or twist your belief into their image anyway and b) not be influenced by other people's opinions on your opinions.

"Today a young man on acid realized that all matter is merely energy condensed into a slower vibration, that we are all one being, one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively. There is no such thing as death, life is only a dream. Here's Tom with the weather." -Bill Hicks.

Journal Extracts 1999

Every journey must begin with an introduction. A single, sharp snapshot given to a smiling stranger that can instantly touch their lives like nothing else. Or leave them cold, because physics is infernal and does not understand why souls must fuse before friendships are born. Introductions are everything and this journey — yes, you and I — needs to begin with one.

For those of you who know me, make time to find your diary notes and go rip, rip, rip. It is sad how everything that was certitude is now turned on its head. For those of you who have never known me, this is going to be easier than touch football. I am just your voice. I am the child with no future, that hot man you never kissed, the little girl with snipped daisies in her frock, that ‘it’ girl on Fifth Avenue you never brushed against, the mother you let die.

I am just your voice that has now found a channel. I will haunt you like I did yesterday. I will capture your mind because I am the prince of grey. I will tear tiny ripples in your heart because it is the only way you will let the blue drip to the ground, where all sins are forgiven. I will live to dream again. Ignore me if you will, because this voice makes no excuse for snivelling idiots afraid to breathe deep. Tie me up and throw away the key, if you hate finding an opinion so different from your own that you turn purple with rage.

I am just a voice.

I speak your language, I drink your tea, I hear what you’re saying when circumstance leads you down its path but your heart, still beating, is going the other way. I stay quiet most times because in silence, I discover my meaning. And then, when the time is right, I savage you with the truth.

I do it because you are a survivor. With your mottled teeth and crumpled nose, you have triumphed over the worst disease to envelop mankind: apathy. You care about yourself first, because you know how desperately you are in need of repair. You care about family and friends, because they carry the seed of your brilliance when you cannot see the light anymore. You care about this earth, because it permits your excursions into the unknown with nothing more than an occasional harrumph.

When you stop caring, I come back. My voice grows louder, even shrill, like a thousand banshees bleating to a forgotten Gaelic chant. I make no apologies then. I simply dissolve the membrane of your wellbeing with short stabs, drawing no blood. I corrupt your platitudes, I stir your pot, I shriek when I dance on your grave till you are ready to care again.

I know you don’t love me as much as I love you. It doesn’t really bother me because my heart is an ocean of lips, bitten, raw. I know you want to turn the page on my chapters once and for all, lest I shout from the rooftops of the world. I know you are in a rush today, just like yesterday, eager to put a wide distance between us that’s easily multiplied by the hour. And yet I come back to celebrate your survival, to exude your genius till it drips from my tongue so that a million other voices might find their own.

I have not been sent here by your mother. So don’t expect advice from the lap of wisdom because I only know the truth. I have no interest in your bright pyramid scheme to get rich quick or your daily commute from Back to Beyond or your balding lifescape. I don’t understand why grown men must seize days with fists over stone. I care less for silly experiments that give intelligent women the right to be bitter. I cringe when I see children weep because soon enough, their little motors die down. I yawp when you stop breathing because in you is my own wish to survive. These are my weaknesses.

I am your voice and this is my introduction. If you’re stone cold, turn around and walk away to your picture-perfect world. But if you are still smiling, do come back and ask softly for my life.

25 Random Things About Me

1) My name is pronounced as 'Nickhil', but I write it as 'Nikhil' and it has been such from then on. My middle name is 'Peter' which means rock on which Christ built his first Church.

2) Having grown up against a backdrop of a grandmother who did her course in Commercial Art from India’s premier Institute, JJ School of Arts, Mumbai, a grandfather who was at once a world renowned journalist, humourist (Punch contributor et al), expert on East African affairs, freedom fighter for Uganda and teacher, a father who successfully ran an Advertising Agency of repute, a mother who is an innovative teacher and aesthete, there is little wonder that I developed an affinity for reading, writing and a riotous imagination.

3) When I first started getting memory loss and mixing up things I feared if I had vascular dementia. I couldn’t tell the difference between news channels and sewage tanks; I suffered from the inability to discriminate between film actresses with loud mouths and prostitutes with gaping assholes; I was unable to distinguish between Sakhi Rawant and a used condom; I lost the capacity to tell apart a politician from a bag of feces mixed with toxic venom; I found no contrast between democracy and fascism; I failed to differentiate between a man on the street and a rapist on the prowl; I lost the faculty to identify a stupid dumb bitch and a girl who uploads her photos on social networking sites; I didn’t have the power to list any dissimilarities when I juxtaposed doctors with ruthless cunts who would do anything for money; I had trouble discerning businessmen from ruthless pricks who would do anything for money; I tried my best to separate religion from science fiction but I failed pathetically; I saw film critic Anupama Chopra and a chortling baboon and couldn’t tell them apart; I struggled to get a clue about how teachers were different from diarrheic donkeys with their heads shoved up their rectums; I could no longer discern an activist from an attention whore; I failed to see any difference between the Government and an acute case of fistula; I made an unsuccessful attempt to distinguish between tomorrow and an imminent apocalypse. And then, suddenly, I realized I wasn’t suffering from vascular dementia; I was and am just experiencing the side effects of being a citizen in modern day India.

4) I’m as xenophobic and jingoistic about India as the next guy brandishing a sword to kill his fellow Indian just because he kneels down a different way. My fury is as perfervid as any other Indian’s when I hear foreign dickheads make untrue statements about Indians like the rumor that we bury our heads in a pile of holy cow dung to attain nirvana. My blood boils as fast as my fellow countrymen when westerners mock our time-tested customs and beliefs. And as I’m swelling with pride over my country’s superiority when some guy in Tamil Nadu goes and gets married to a dog wearing a sari. That’s when I feel like burying my head in a big pile of holy cow dung.

5) I hate cricket

6) I've fallen in Love just once.

7) As you all know, smoking not only makes you look cool, but provides you with 10 essential vitamin and minerals. It makes your cloths, hair, hands, car, house, dog, PHONE smell like fucking MONEY! Every time I light up, I’m whisked away to the days of Marlboro Man commercials and stove-top jiffy pop! Smoking is the BEST!!
Yeah…..um…over it huh? I suck……smoke that is.
I don’t count how many I smoke in a day (so don’t ask) nor do I collect miles. The last thing I need is to have a bag full of ten thousand little promotional “rupees” to remind me that I’m killing myself.
Need to quit? Yeah- probably. Gunna? Um- proooooooooooooobablyyyyyy

y not.
All I have to say is this –and it goes out to everyone that may have a FAG(no homo) in their mouth right now
STOP BITCHES!!!!!!!
Now, if you will excuse me- I have a date with the little corner behind my office we call the “cancer lounge.”

8) I’ve become ferociously independent, these days; quite useful and still socially permissible. I make a point, almost unconsciously, to be the only resource I need; by lowering my standards of living and indulging in pretty sick porn, among other things. But I still get lonely; I can’t escape it. It’s healthy human nature, social animalistic behavior.

9) Now I am thinking your own internet has definitive downsides, like sleeping patterns fucking up totally. I blew an appointment with a friend. So you know. This shit is something I need to work out. Also I've been eating nothing but pasta for like 4 days straight. I should probably work on that as well. I'll make good in the morning. Ugh, every time I go visit my parents I feel trapped for some reason. Luckily it's just to pick up some stuff and to stay for dinner, I can't even stand being at my parents house for more than a day now. I don't really know why, it may be them, it may be this stinking hell hole of a place I grew up in. It reeks of bad memories.

10) I was in the Editorial Board and was almost the Editor in Chief (the actual Editor in Chief happened to be in love with me) of my school magazine and newsletter and also took part in various inter-school cultural shows and received award and recognition in a National Essay competition called THE FOUNTAINHEAD, organized by Liberty Institute at Delhi.


11) I’ve made many films and few of them ran successfully in art theatres.

12) I love it when people give me gifts. Surprise me!!!!!.

13) I have many acquaintances but few friends. I never tire of my own company. I am more alive and energetic at night. I even think differently at night. The mysterious sounds, the soft voices — I enjoy the silent solitude of the night. And from its midst rises the rhythm and lilt and melody and meaning of words. I write what I live.

14) I read a lot. Novels, Periodicals, Journals, bits of writing someone throws in the bin.

15) I wish I was gay so that I could get more chicks.

16) The ordinariness of a professional writer is rendered extraordinary by the strict discipline of a word culture that engulfs me, without and within.

17) My mom is Anglo-Portuguese and my Dad is of East African Punjabi descent.

18) I love it when a girl undoes her hair

19) I like it when the evening sun floods the sky and each day slowly retraces its way home leaving darkness. And the inexplicable sensation when you drive at top speed.

20) As a kid I used to tell my friends in school that I was a werewolf and many believed me till grade 8, when they found that they’re the ones who had “rays coming out of their eyes”.

21) My dream project is a movie on my life

22) I love beer and vodka. Only together!!!!

23) I was in SDIPA (Shimak Davar’s Institute of Performing Arts).

24) I feel lost and lonely when I am honest.

25) A web of dreams, forged by cigarettes, drugs and alcohol, finally nearing completion. We'll see how long it holds. Now I have left most of my life behind only to tell others.

I’m writing this now, simply because I may not remember all of it tomorrow!

Build Bridges

Most people tend to think about themselves first and foremost. It's human nature to "look out for number one," to put your own needs and desires before the needs of others. It's easy enough to get caught up in your own life and problems, but when you do that, you're creating a bigger problem by closing yourself off to many wonderful things in life and many wonderful people.

When you build bridges by reaching out to and connecting with others, it may add a few problems and complications, but it's worth the trouble because it also brings warmth, friendship, and love into your life. It is a matter of give and take, and it does require some effort, patience, and perseverance. The bridge doesn't build itself, and sometimes others aren't so keen at first to see you building in their direction. But if everyone got stuck in the me-first mentality and built nothing but walls, the world would be a different place.

Building a bridge begins with you changing your outlook towards others in your life – your colleagues, those you work with, family, friends, etc. When you begin to think in terms of what others want and need, the framework is in place. Then that bridge grows a little stronger each time you give of yourself to somebody else.

It might take a little courage to cross that bridge the first time, when you're not sure how well it's going to hold or how you'll be received on the other side, but you'll be glad you did. Remember that for every unselfish act, for every step you take to reach out to another, you will be rewarded someday, for what goes around comes around and what you give will come back to you again someday.

I sit and remember those dayz, the dayz when everything was so lovely, so colorful.
The dayz when I used to touch heaven as your hair used to touch my face.
The dayz when we used to sleep after a kiss on the phone, and used to wake up with the same.
I sit and remember those dayz when you would rest your head on my shoulders and sleep.
Those spring times when we used to lie down on the grass together. How worried you used to get when I got hurt. How bad you felt when I slept those hungry nights.
I still remember the dayz when we couldn’t meet, time used to stop and thoughts would never deviate.
I miss you!! I miss every part of our small story. That started so simple and had the opposite end. I can feel the pain, the pain of the distance between you and me.
I run alone on that road where we used to jog laughing. Whenever I am sipping a cup of coffee, I order another one, imagining you beautiful face.
I sit and remember the day, when I shouldn’t have treated you like I did.
I know nothing can be done now.
Just wanted to say this for the last time
“I love you, and will love you forever
The place you created in my heart can’t go away
Ill be waiting thou I know nothing can be done.”

I will always miss you!!
Cant even say “see ya soon”
be happy, never let that smile go away..

dhairya!!!!

Racism

Racism is like UFO sightings. It might happen anywhere else in the whole world but it just doesn’t happen in India. Accusing an Indian of being racist is as ludicrous as accusing George Bush of being eloquent or Britney Spears of covering her pole-vault. Perhaps it’s a genetic trait, but we Indians just aren’t inclined to be racist. We do not discriminate any human being on the basis of his/her skin color. In fact, there’s a large part of the Indian Advertising Industry which has dedicated itself to making sure that all dark-skinned people overcome their obscure condition and become healthy, normal fair-skinned members of the society. And it’s an incontrovertible fact that we embrace people of all skin colors. In fact, some of our most revered Gods, if we are to go by the evidence seen in various illustrations, were blue in color. Now, you show me any other nation who would embrace blue individuals and venerate them like we do.
Not only are we accepting of all races, including horse races, but we are also a nation who strongly supports the new wave of political correctness that is imperative in today’s troubled and hostile world. In fact, a recent episode that I had in a café enlightened me of my own latent prejudices and completely changed the way I think and speak. It all began with the well-mannered, unassuming waiter who came to get my order.
“Hello, sir, are you ready to order?”
“Yes, I’d like a black coffee please.”
“Sir, we do not tolerate that kind of language in our café.”
“Huh?”
“Kindly refer to it as ‘African-American coffee’, sir. We have a very strict policy against racism in our cafe.”
“Umm…ok. I apologize. I’ll have one ‘African-American coffee’ and a plate of chicken breasts.”
“Sir, I repeat that we do not practice any form of discrimination in our café and I’m going to have to ask you to follow our norms. Your language is quite unacceptable.”
“I can’t say chicken breasts?”
“I’m afraid not. The first half of the compound word you used suggests a baseless allegation of cowardice and the latter half is blatantly sexist. The appropriate term is the ‘thorax of the fowl that has a pox named after it‘.”
“Ok, alright, my mistake again. So, I’ll have one African-American coffee and a plate of the ‘thorax of the fowl that has a pox named after it’. If you can please make it fast, it would be helpful. I have an insane work schedule that I have to get back to.”
“Do you think it’s funny, sir?”
“Huh?”
“Do you think you can pick on anyone merely because they act differently? The word you used to describe your work schedule is highly derogatory and demeaning. If you have to, resort to the socially accepted substitute of that word- ‘differently sane’.”
“Look, it’s just words. You’re making it sound as if I’m some kind of a criminal.”
“Sir, you are absolutely crossing the line with your disrespect for our rules and humanity in general. You cannot, under any circumstances, use the C-word in a civilized society like ours.”
“The C-word? You mean criminal?”
“Sir, please, mind your language. You have no right to outcast the ‘alternately employed members of the society’.”
“Look, stop making a scene here. There are people at other tables who are looking at me and giving me these weird sniggers.”
“What did you just call me?”
“What?”
“Did you just-?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, are you deaf?”
“How dare you, sir? I do not possess a ‘permanently switched off biological audibility device’, if that’s what you meant.”
“Look, I’ve had enough of this ‘metabolic waste produced by a male member of the bovine community‘ from you. Forget the food, I’m out of here. If you have a problem with what I said, you can go to ‘the monosyllabic place with an extremely tropical climate and trying living conditions run by a very demanding dictator’“
“Well, at least you had the courtesy to portray your disagreement in such polite words. I respect that.”

Perception and Reality

Lately I've been bothered alot by people who are convinced their way of life, or their perception on a way of life, is alot better than mine, and anyone elses for that matter. Logically most are either fundamentalist (insert religion here), non smokers, pro-lifers, or just stupid.

I think this is quite odd, because reality is not a static quality. It is a matter of individual perception. So when you say to yourself "smokers are stupid, it's so damaging to them and yet they do it", that's ok. But quit telling us. We already fucking know.

And when you pray to God or some sort of elevated deity for world peace, food or whatever, that's ok too, that's your thing. But I prefer to work for my food, and put an active effort into a collateral state of well being, should I desire it. And results show, my way works, yours doesn't.

Percieved reality is still reality, but your reality is not my reality. And your views are not my views. You are welcome to share your views, but when people say "smoke contains tar you know. That's really bad for you" I usually tell them back "smoke contains 4000 other toxins, I doubt tar is that big of a fucking contributor".

Can you see my point here? Whatever you are trying to convince the world about, we usually already know, and blatantly ignore it, because we have our own beliefs. And no matter what you do, you can't suppress one persons own belief over your own, unless this person is incredibly naive and gullible. Or you're using a naked chick as a distraction.