Gokarna & Why I Go There

This one goes out to all those unfortunate, uninitiated and uninspired individuals. Get off your high horse and read this.

There may be a hundred reasons why a person goes to Gokarna. People looking to get laid, people looking to score and get high, people looking for a nice, secluded beach and people wanting to offer their prayers in India’s most sacred temple. I don’t know if there are any other reasons, and frankly, I don’t really care why people go there.

I go there for a totally different reason, and its none of the above.

I lead a difficult life. I need to balance my passion to work, my unceasing urge to travel and roam aimlessly across the country, my singularly fierce attraction to beaches and my bank account. Juggling these four volatile substances while playing air hockey with the family, the bosses, the peers, the juniors, the friends, the foes, the creditors, the goons, the loons, the whackadoodles, the geniuses, the crap, the stench and the slippery slopes of bankruptcy, unemployment and loneliness around every corner is taking its toll on my nerves.

There are very few things I’m passionate about, and those that I am passionate about, I am so with a vehemence unseen in anyone else, for anything else. I do not go to Gokarna to ‘do drugs’. I do not go to Gokarna to ‘sleep with women’. I do not go to Gokarna to ‘drink drinks’. I do not go to Gokarna to visit the temple and offer my prayers. I do not go to Gokarna for the sea food. I do no go to Gokarna for the rustic beauty of the village. I do not go to Gokarna to ogle at half-naked women lounging in the sun. I do not go to Gokarna because I love beaches and water. I do not go to Gokarna to swim in the ocean. I do not go to Gokarna to live. I do not go to Gokarna to die.

I go to Gokarna once every three months because I need to get away from the Greek tragedy that my life is fast unraveling to be; to clear my head of all thoughts – good and bad; to reboot myself. I go to Gokarna because its the only place on Earth that welcomes me without judging who I am or what I have done. I go to Gokarna because that is the only place on Earth where I am at peace. Completely.

I have a sea rock, which I call my own, ten feet out into the ocean, at Om Beach. Its a bit of a hike to get to the top of the rock, and once I get there, I sit, looking at the waves crashing into me on all sides, rising twenty feet high and spraying me with a mist of cold, salty water. I listen to the rush, the gurgle, the power and the wordless songs of the waves and as I stare out into the horizon, imagining a place beyond comprehension, where the sky kisses the ocean, I realize that I am peaceful, within and without.

Gokarna - kudle beachNothing of what is happening in life matters here. Time stands still for me, for the 48 hours I’m there. I put my feet up at a cafe, sipping sweet tea and reading a good book, or people watching on the burning, golden sands. I take a nice pleasant trek up to Kudle through thick brambles and open moors and I wade in the white sands until the sun starts to set. I walk back amidst the gathering darkness to Om Beach, walk all the way up to Half Moon and back again. As night descends around me, so does the peace, deeper inside me.

I need this. I can’t do without it. For the unfortunate, uninitiated and uninspired individuals, I recommend it. The only thing I get high on, when in Gokarna, is Gokarna itself.

Oops, He Did It Again! :)

Deve Louda Gowda - The Art Of Holding An Entire City At Ransom!
Deve Gowda - The Art Of Holding An Entire City At Ransom!

Every country has it’s fair share of jackass politicians and India perhaps has the most. Topping the list of overachievers is the supremely anal Deve Louda Gowda. He was the Prime Minister of the country a while back, and during his stint, India stooped to an all time low. He was notorious for disrupting the lives of the citizens with his absurd political campaigns and crap-all marches. Last night, he outclassed himself by holding the entire city at ransom. Here’s what transpired two days prior to the incident:

Scene: Deve Louda Gowda’s toilet.

For sake of convenience, we’ll refer to him as Fuckhead.

Fuckhead is sitting on the pot and trying to forget the past 15 painful minutes. At his age, he realizes that he shouldn’t be eating spicy curry for dinner lest he goes through this marathon session in the toilet again. He has his laptop on his knees and he is reading MirrorCracked – his daily dose of laughter. He reads this post called “Living In Ghost Town,” where the author has written about how empty the roads of Bangalore were and how he’s so happy that he reached his office in half an hour, instead of the usual one hour.

Fuckhead frowns and hatches a plan to make that author’s life miserable. He calls it Operation Manic Monday.

On the 17th of November, he holds the biggest political rally in his miserable career. Worse still, he holds this rally in the heart of the city – Palace Grounds. Three hundred and fifty thousand people thronged to the rally from all around Bangalore (Please note: People came from all around Bangalore, not from Bangalore. Over 1000 vehicles, including 400 buses were allowed into the city carrying the hopeful and the misinformed villagers.)

Roads are choked and the entire city comes to a standstill, in the biggest traffic management disaster the city has ever seen. Fuckhead smiles in satisfaction.

“The author of MirrorCracked has been taken care of,” he says to his personal assistant. “No longer will he write about Bangalore roads being empty. I have triumphed.”

The scientists at the MirrorCracked Labs were shocked and angered at this cruel, below-the-belt tactic that Fuckhead employed. They think that Deve Louda Gowda is jealous of Nikhil’s sexy beard and the luxuriant hair on his head. Maybe…

The ‘Butt’on Brigade

This post is for the person who gave me that screwball lecture on Global Warming,   😀

I sat through a long discourse on global warming and how it’ll affect the kind of clothes we wear on a daily basis. Apparently, the Earth is going to become too hot for us to wear clothes and we’d all be walking around butt-naked on the streets, sweating like pigs. Nudists are going to have a field day, however, but for the rest of us unfortunates, we will be forced to do something drastic to preserve whatever ‘little’ decency we have.

From the Stone Age to the Information Age and the present Boobage, we’re hurtling towards another Ass Age. Strangely, this comes just before the next Ice Age, and the two pronunciations are not to be confused. So, what do we do in this ex-ass-perating situation?

There will come a time when people’s butts will become a taboo – as taboo’d as the other ‘private’ parts. Unfortunately, people will not share the same obsession they have for these parts and we’ll see them being bared in public. But the butt, it’s gonna be highly private. Someone will invent a Butt-Guard or a Butt-Off or something similar in all shapes and sizes and fake ones too, that will protect the butt from prying eyes. More than anything, these inventions will prevent Ass Lovers from their eye-candy.

These Ass Lovers will create a secret society called the ‘Butt’on Brigade, and their main objective will be to beautify the backside through underground videos. Scores of people will be misled into joining the ‘Butt’on Brigade and kids as young as 10 will be brainwashed and made to join. Law and order will fail against the sheer numbers of the Brigadiers and the kids will create their own version called the ‘Little Asses.’

And since all the truths about Global Warming would have been proven to be true, the Governments of all the countries will decide that they need to ignore the ominous signs again. Their anal logic would be: Lightning doesn’t strike the same place twice, so why should Global Warming?

But the logic would turn out to be just that – anal and stinky, Global Warming would strike again, bringing an end to the Ice and the Ass Age. The taboos would return to normal. We’d be flashing our butts in public again and hiding other parts.

If only this fucked-up version of the future were true. Unfortunately, it’s just a dream. An ass-piration…

The Finger!

For some strange reason, people like to give me the finger! They think that raising their middle finger at me and glaring at me (if-looks-could-kill kind of looks) would make them feel better, perhaps even make up for all the injustices I have heaped on them. And the other thing that bothers me is that whenever people give me “the finger”, more often than not, they are people I don’t know and am passing them on the road. I sat down and seriously considered my driving skills one day.

I am a safe driver, I don’t go beyond 60 kmph and most of the times, I apologize for bumping into some other vehicle or some old bugger trying to cross the road, and at the times I don’t apologize is when I don’t realize that I’ve “made contact,” a fact which I realize only when I go home and see the fuel or the oil leaking out from a hole in the chassis. But still, I haven’t killed anyone or anything on the road, and am generally on the right side of the traffic. 🙂

Anyway, these things are beyond my comprehension. If people on the street want to give me the finger, they can go ahead and do it. I don’t really care. But if they really have to give me the finger and shout out loud that I’m a “rotten scoundrel who has to learn how to drive and respect elders,” when I’m standing in front of my house, with a few cute girls whom I’m trying to charm, thus ruining my chances with the lovely creations of God, then it pisses me off! 🙂

Anyway, dear reader, I’m back from my hiatus and will be filling these pages with more of my singular and quirky experiences hoping to make you laugh, and I thank you all for your support.

Shefaly has tagged me with a lovely meme here, and I am in the process of compiling the relevant information to do that. Hopefully, I’ll finish it soon and post the tag.

Cheers! 🙂

Aaargh!!

The past 48 hours have been terrible, to say the least! I am so frikkin frustrated! I am going to take it all out here, venting the steam, ranting and raving about the little injustices of life and the fact that a simple moment of calm can be so elusive! Aaargh! I am so full of shit ..er… er… I mean, I am so full of anger!

Monday started as usual, with the blues and my suicidal mood. I woke up groggily at around 8, reluctantly took a shower, which, unfortunately, woke me up, thus ruining my mood further. I snapped at everyone in the office and was in a lousy mood for most of the day. A long day in the office and at nine in the night, when I reached home, I was in a worst mood of my life. I attributed it to my weekend exploits and the consequent hangover! 😀

Tuesday was slightly better to start off, and got worse as the day wore on. A long, long drive to meet a client, who lived on another planet for all the trouble, and then the drive back in bumper-to-bumper traffic on a stifling, hot day ensured that my mood would be no better than the previous day.

I started pulling my hair out at around 2 in the afternoon, when for the tenth time, the power failed and the computers shut down in the office. At 2.30, when I had around twenty strands of hair on my head, my computer crashed: “Boot Sector Fail” screamed the monitor at me and shut itself down, never to boot again. In my head, I smashed the screen of the computer, smashed the whole computer into tiny pieces, set fire to it and danced around the make-shift bonfire butt naked, singing a native African tribal war song, and then pee’d on the fire. But in reality, I just sat there in front of the computer with a strange smile on my face and humming the African war song softly. My colleagues thought I was nuts. 😀

Then, when I went to smoke, I realized I didn’t have any matches. I walked across the street to buy a box of matches, only to realize that I had left my wallet back at my workplace. I mooched a light of some other loser who was smoking nearby, and went back to the office, and realized that the power had failed again and the AC was not working. I caught a glance of myself in the mirror and the hair on my head looked so promising and pull-able. My fingers itched! 😀

When I finally gave up and left for the day, my long drive back home became longer because the battery in my phone died and I had no music to listen to. The one hour drive from my office to my house became unbearable as the traffic was unnaturally pathetic. Oh, that’s not the end of it. If the day had ended thus, I’d have been happier! I was twenty minutes from my home when the skies opened up with all their fury and drenched me to the bone. The only thing I really hate about riding a bike in heavy rains is the small, irritating puddle of water that accumulates in my underwear, making my squirm in anger! Aaargh!!

I slept as soon as my head hit the pillow and woke up at 4 in the morning today. Great! Add insomnia to the list of disasters! My life sucks, doesn’t it! 😀