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
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!
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