Two Zero Eight Four :)

I stood on the edge of land.

“I’m back, baby,” I whispered.

“I missed you,” she said.

“I missed you too.”

She responded by gently swirling around my ankles, gurgling as she withdrew and made way for another of her waves to wash over me. I had a smile the whole weekend in Gokarna. I’ve written about what it means to me, so I won’t do it again. I missed the sea, her warmth, her cold, her whispers and her screams, her love, her fury and her caress.

I made two wonderful friends this time in Gokarna. Here’s a shout out to Mahesh and Chris. Hope life takes you both where you want to go, and I hope Gokarna has been as therapeutic to you as it has been to me.

I was born on August 20, 1984. Or, in other forms, 20-08-84. A contraction of the same – 2084 – has always been a special number to me, at least for the past few years when I discovered it. It’s a perfect contraction, and aesthetically speaking, it feels beautiful and complete.

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So, all my contemplation and thinking and chickening out ended on Saturday. I got my first tattoo, and I think it beats the shit out of any abstract designs!

Nefarious, Investigator-Kidnapping Horror From The Isolated Labyrinth

This isn’t a name of an upcoming movie or a third-rate novel being written by someone purporting to be a novelist. This will be my name if and when I become a vampire for a day.

I have been having some really strange urges in the past few weeks because of the monotony in my life. There have been times when I thought I’d just give in and do something stupid. I toyed with the idea of getting a tattoo, and though this urge still hasn’t died completely, I’m beginning to discover reasons why a tattoo would be a bad idea. I contemplated writing for money in a random blog competition and I did. I contemplated quitting my job and working in a bar as a bartender, but I found out that a basic bar-tending course in India costs a hand, a foot and a few hairs from a ‘special’ place. Too expensive, in short. And finally, I started a subtle rebellion against the society at large to excite me out of my monotony and jumped to the idea of vampirism.

It wasn’t a direct jump, though. I did decide to worship the devil and invoke him through a satanic ritual on me terrace. I bought some candles, drew a rough circle with table salt and drew a six-pointed star inside the circle with red water paint. I put candles at all the nodes and sat in the middle and had a smoke. That’s when the foolishness of what I was about to do struck me. “This will never work,” my brain told me. “You have to be naked for this to work.”

Given that my neighbor is an old pervert peep, I dropped the idea of nudity and jumped to a safer alternative which does not involve any indecent exposure. Vampirism.

I did some research online and found that there was a cult right here in Bangalore! I was way too excited. I read up some of their forums and found out all I needed to find out about them. I was hooked. Imagine a bunch of jobless idiots dressed in black, wearing black makeup and standing around drinking wine (imagining it to be blood) and having casual, unprotected sex! I would fit right in. Except that I don’t drink wine and that I usually prefer a contraceptive. Usually.

Still, the idea has some merit and I am seriously thinking of signing up for a week or so. I would rebel against society in my own way and I would dress completely in black while doing so. Awesome! I would also need to buy plastic fangs to make it look like I can suck blood right out of the aorta of a poor, helpless, sexy woman at night. I would be able to transform into a bat at will and I will be able to control hordes of rats and wolves and other undead creatures.

I would be the Nefarious, Investigator-Kidnapping Horror from the Isolated Labyrinth! (Imagine this with the slushing sounds of blood being slurped through a straw.)

PS: For those of you who have realized that my name is actually an acronym for the title of this post, I have a treat. I won’t suck your blood.

PPS: This post is written in red color. Request you to please imagine that this is written in blood. Well, its actually maroon. So, imagine this is clotted and congealed blood.

Image Courtesy: http://spicyvampirefiles.wordpress.com

Need vs. Want

It seems everyone around me is doing it. People I least expect to do it are doing it and it makes me feel a bit left out. No, they aren’t doing it, in the literal sense of the phrase. They’re getting tattoos done on their bodies, and I thought I should get one myself.

The funny thing about making up one’s mind about body modification is the fact that no matter how much one jokes about it, it has to be taken seriously. A tattoo is a permanent thing, and to take it lightly might result in being stuck with the mistake forever. Yesterday, I was having a very mature conversation with a close friend of mine (who used to blog before she ditched the country and ran away to hide under the Queen’s skirt in the United Kingdom). She told me that she’ was getting a tattoo on her back, under the neck and asked for my suggestions about the words.

Selfish bastard that I am, I somehow managed to turn the conversation thread into whether or not I should get one and if I did, what it should be. It also got me thinking later if it’d be a mistake to get one. I consulted another friend of mine who’s crazier than most crazy people, and she said that I’d be crazier than her if I got a tattoo. Now that’s not the kind of branding I want for myself. Another argument against getting a tattoo is the fact that I only want to get one because I’m bored in life and want to do something insane, and that I don’t really NEED a tattoo. In the past, when life got to monotonous, I have quit my job, I have gone on long vacations, I have gone on a spending spree, I have moved houses and I have slept with random women. This time, none of these options seem viable.

The counter-argument to this is I’m feeling left out and desperately want to be part of the tattoo’d crowd.

Now, 48 hours later, I’m still vacillating about this. Should I get one? Or should I just let it be and latch on to some other passing fancy? Help!

Cartoon Courtesy: http://www.cartoonstock.com

When stars pretend to care!

There are very few things that annoy me in life, and right at the top of the small list are celebrities! I hate them. Not that I’m jealous of them or anything, its just that sometimes, they do things that makes me want to throw up in disgust. On screen, I like them; I like their acting and I like the men and women they portray, but off screen, they are just irritating, piss-off people with a bottomless wallet and a bigger ego.

Ok, I can accept it when Britney Spears walks down the road naked and the paparazzi drool on their cameras. I can also accept it (grudgingly) when Tom Cruise talks about Scientology and tries to convince us that we are aliens. But what I can’t really understand is when Brad Pitt tattoos a map of New Orleans on his lower back as a tribute to all the victims of hurricane Katrina! 😀

How is this a tribute to anyone except the poor woman with whom he sleeps every night? Or is he planning to do a Salman Khan and walk around bare chested for the rest of his life? But for god’s sake, a tattoo!!! Now, I’ve seen and heard everything! This is just disgustingly insane!

Celebrities are people who are supposed to smile for the cameras and pretend to act. But all they seem to do is smile and pretend to care. Aamir Khan pretended to care for the “violence affected brothers and sisters” and decided to carry the Olympic torch! I really want to meet his PR agent and shake his hand! 😀

I guess we live in a world where the quirkiest actions are greeted with the most response. I am old school, and I am still trying to grasp the pace at which the world is becoming dumb. 😀

Inspire…

in·spi·ra·tion [in-spuhrey-shuhn]:

–noun

— a thing or person that inspires.

Vishesh tagged me, and this time, its an interesting one:

Think of THE song that most inspires you to write, whether it gives you an idea for a story, script or just puts you into a better frame of mind AND/OR peek into the lyrics and find a verse that sums up the theme of whatever project it is you’re working on. If possible, post a video of the song to convey to readers the full context of the song and the mood it puts you into. Finally, send the assignment to five other writers to do as well.

There’s this tiny, weird-looking, double-chinned, mousy-haired, tinny-voiced, dark-skinned, blue-eyed, long-eared man with unclean nails and long, spindly legs, wearing tattered white clothes and sporting a toothless grin and a mega-halitosis, and he resides inside my head and is responsible for everything I write. He sleeps in a bug-infested mattress that’s in a bad shape with lots of holes. He has a tattoo on his right arm, near the shoulder, which reads, “I write, therefore I am!” – a tattoo he got while partying in Bali, a few years ago.

There’re very specific things that inspire this gentleman, and music is one of them. Music of any kind sets him off, and if I had to pick one, then it has to be INXS’s Afterglow. The lyrics speak to him directly, reminds him of someone special, and he dedicates all the things he writes to that person. He loses control of himself while listening to this song, and for hours together, he sits and listens to this song over and over again. The youtube link for this song is here below:

The lyrics are, I must agree with this gentleman, somewhat inspiring. I like this song a lot myself.

At the tiny, weird-looking, double-chinned, mousy-haired, tinny-voiced, dark-skinned, blue-eyed, long-eared gentleman’s request, I have withheld his name.

Now, I need to tag five other writers, but since writers aren’t the only ones who need inspiration, I am going to tag a few poets and rockstars too: They are: Mariacristina, Fruity, Priya, Shiwani and Balu.

Anyone else who feels the need to share their inner creative selves with the world, are, of course, free to pick up this tag and do it. From the shabby gentleman inside me and from myself, I raise a toast to you, dear accomplished reader!

Cheers! 🙂