I am looking much more better with my glasses on. By glasses I mean the spectacles I found inside an used cupboard I bought. And when I say I look better, I mean the blurry image of myself I see in the mirror, the image is taller, thinner and has a more symmetrical face. I guess I can do away with the image being blurry. If only everyone had my glasses.

They said I could be anything, so I became a plastic doll

A lot of people I know are getting engaged / married, and I have a lot of “photographer” friends on Facebook, and they all have their own photography “pages” and have been very nice about inviting me to “like” their pages. And then I have few of those “model” friends as well, they don’t have pages for themselves yet, but I think it’s only a matter of time – keeping my fingers crossed. And soon, I expect a model friend to marry a photographer friend and live up to the stereotype, and then there is that epic Facebook drama that will follow their statistically probable divorce, again, fingers crossed – but I am digressing.

I know you are not wondering about the relation between engagements/marriages/photographers/models, but I have to tell you anyway. They’re all posting their “professional” photos on Facebook and I find it, well, annoying. I mean, they are all looking so darn beautiful and I hate it!  When I say beautiful, I don’t mean the natural beauty the poets poet about, I am talking about the oh-so-adorable plastic barbie look. Everyone is looking so spotless and perfect, some of them even look like wax statues of their parents. I guess I was a little too late when I found out about the whole “plastic is the new black” thing and now it has become mainstream, is it too late to embrace it ?

I guess not, I am gonna call up one of those photographer guys who constantly text me to “like” their photos, and then I am gonna have my photo “professionally” taken, then edit the crap out of it till I look all glossy and plastic.

Ladies, now if you will please raise your glasses for my contribution towards bridging the gap between men and blow up dolls.


He told me he was Death and that my time was up.

How much more time do I have left ? – I asked.


“Till this candle burns down”, said Death, and then he lit a candle by my side.


“Thamasoma Jyothirgamaya”, I said.


“Mrityorma Amruthamgamaya”, said Death.


“Doesn’t that defeat your whole purpose ? I don’t understand – “


Death said, “You never did any way. You chanted it for most of your childhood without even realizing what it really meant. Do you have any last wishes ?”


“I want to pray one last time”


Death laughed, “It won’t do you any good, where you are going, there is no faith, there is no life, there are no Gods”


“I believe in my God”


“You, your beliefs, your belongings, the very ego that made you say “I” and “my” will cease to exist.”


“Well, then I want to play my guitar one last time”


“You don’t own a guitar, you always wanted to learn, you never did, you always believed you still had time and now your time’s up”


“What do people usually do when you tell them that their time is up? ” I asked Death.


“They beg, they cry, they scream”


“How am I handling it so far ?”


“Not as good as your dad”


“How did my father handle it ?”


“He smiled, and walked with me”


“Didn’t he ask any questions ?”


“No, he was happy, happy people do not ask questions.”


“Why am I waiting for the candle to burn down?”


“You can blow it up now if you want”


And with a deep breath, I –

le wild post

11:30 AM – Riding the bike, le wild phone rings.

Me : Hello ?

Her : Hey ! been trying to call you for so long – Where are you ?

Me : Heading home, Whats up ?

Her : I am going abroad next week, thought I’d see you before I go.

Me : Sure – when ?

Her : Today evening ? May be, I am not sure, will call you when I get there.

2:00 PM

She didn’t call yet, me walking across the room, fully excited, not sure whether I want to meet her or not, I have had le wild crush on her for a long time. She is going away now, telling her now is not a good idea, even if she likes me, she still has to go – will I be sad if I meet her ? I haven’t thought of her in a while – le mixed feelings

5:00 PM – Le wild phone rings again

Her : I’m at le wild coffee place

Me : Be there in 20.

Said that as an alliteration, It did sound cool in movies. Le wild calculation – coffee place is 14km away, average speed needed 42km/hr, office traffic, accomodate for traffic lights and variable changes, average speed needed 65km/hr.

5:20 PM – Le wild coffee shop, me and her, chatting.

5:40 PM – We’re on the road, hanging out – having the best time of my life

6:02 PM

Her : You know, we should have done this long back, this is nice.

Me (silently) : I have wanted to go out with you since the first time I saw you, pi equals 3.14159265…

7:30 PM – I take her back to her place

Her : Alright, till the next time.

Me : Probably not.

Her : hmm ?

Me : It is possible that we will not see each other again…Call me before you go.

10:30 PM – Le me on phone with le friend

Le wild friend : It’s just a crush man

Me : Fuck you.

Le wild friend : Bitch please. You are not in love with her, you’ve never been in love with her, you are just sad she is leaving.

Next day morning :

Le me in the shower – Contemplating all the big things in the universe and living in a fantasy world where everything is perfect and I am with her. Runs all possible scenarios where we get together, each as unlikely as other, nothing to do here. Le wild heavyness in the chest.

10:00 AM

Le me on the phone with le wild friend

Me : I want to kill myself.

Le wild friend : How ?

Me : I am going to eat till I die.

Le wild friend : Are you buying ?

Me : No will to live anymore.

Le wild friend : Okay, you are buying – be there in an hour

1:00 PM

Le me full of junk food, still not feeling high, still not feeling better – heavy cigar – still not feeling better – If only I had known spending a couple of hours with her would hurt so much for so long.

3:00 PM

Le me writing this as a reminder to never go on good bye dates again. Ever again.

the room

His memory had failed him, he had to struggle a lot to find that place – in the middle of nowhere, it stood there, alone and aloof, like a big condescending judgement. The last time when he was here –  it was years ago.  He didn’t know why he came back to that room after all these years. May be because it reminded him of a time when he was free from all worries, a much simpler time, no wife, no kids, no responsibilities and no share holders haunting his nightmares, he was alone in the world without a care, he didn’t have this high paying job for which he had sacrificed his very soul, he was broke back then, but he was happy.

He looked around, the roof looked like it would fall off any moment. He saw the words written on the wall, “this is a safe place”. He thought back about the time when she wrote that on the wall with a broken charcoal piece. He was lying down on the floor, looking at her, she was dancing around to an unsung song, some music in her head that he couldn’t hear. He tried in vain to remember her, couldn’t place her name or her face, all he remembered was the music he didn’t hear.

He slowly sat down leaning against the wall, closed his eyes, tried to remember the last time, the only time he had ever been here. It was a beautiful memory, something he vowed to never let go. The girl who came out of nowhere, the best conversation he ever had, the bite marks on his shoulders, but he still couldn’t remember what they had talked about, all he could remember was how it made him feel. She had left before he woke up the next morning and he never saw her again. If he was sure of anything in his life, it was that moment, when he knew, he would give up everything he ever had to go back to that room, that night. It made him feel young and whole again.

When they found him the next morning, he was curled up under a pile of roof tiles and debris. On the wall above him were the words – “this is a safe place”;

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