Sundays

Living at home is all together a different experience than living alone... i guess most of you will agree to the fact that when in front of your parents you are not the same person as you are with your friends... you are a little subdued , a little careful about your speech and most important you never curse in front of your parents...
Over the years i have given an account of almost every part of my life but not the domicile domestic and boring account of my family life.... if u fall asleep halfway when you read this i don't blame you....
The sun would always come screaming though my window and for years i couldn't figure out what actually woke me up, the sun or my mom shouting at me just to get me to wake up... And when i did manage to i was just too lazy, as if spending another 5 mins in bed would create all the difference.
Dad usually had a very amicable approach to a sunday... wake up, tea, 3 different newspapers, nap, lunch, nap again, tending to the garden in the evening, t.v till dinner time( he always watches worthless chanells for god knows what reason), dinner and followed my some uninterrupted sleep with heavy snoring if i might add...
Mom is the most active member of the family.. sometimes i wonder that her blood might have been replaced by Red Bull... she ( being the neat freak that she is)always gets the house in proper condition... everything in its right place till the rest of the family members decide to mess it up again... I always used to find her the a cleaning cloth in her hands whenever i did manage to see her that is... i always used to sit back and see her cleaning everything in a hurried fashion but never missing a single detail... and i was stuck with some chores in the usual rate.... i always lost myself in this haphazardness and it never made any sense to me... so i just sneak out with my bike for i knew that peace was only 10 mins away...
Those sundays have faded away somewhere.. though my mom and dad do almost the same thing my sundays involve a lot of sleep and trying to get rid of the hangover from the night before... i sometime think about those days... but it seems to fade away like a distant dream somewhere...
The bike is gone, the city of dwelling has changed.... but i sometimes do hear the wind calling my name begging me to come back home.

The End of Days…..

No I am not talking about the Biblical end of days referred to as Armageddon or the holocaust of any sort… this is just the metaphorical end of a part of my life that I cherish with the warmth in my heart and hate that has built up inside my ass….
The room is almost empty except for the few bags filled with clothes books and all the other things that I considered useless but in the past few years have proven their worth beyond doubt or prejudice…. The half empty cupboard begs to tell a different story of the days it has seen and the nights it has witnessed and the trials and tribulations faced by the inmates of this room in the ground floor of a 50 year old building in a metropolis city… the bed would definitely tell a different story for the sleepless nights and the tears and blood it has soaked up over the years…
I look around this room and I think about all the times when we had fun, the quarrels , the parties, the heartbreak, the excitement of new love found and the sorrow of lives lost…. They say every good thing must come to an end but I say why should it . Good things should happen on a regular basis and it should continue like that for all eternity.
I remember the first day I came to this city , I had just passed out of my school and I was accepted in this college and I had a mind set that I wanted to make a difference in this world… I was pretty naïve and beginner in the ways of the world and society. I came to this pg thinking it was just a temporary place of inhabitance till I move on to a new place. But that didn’t happen and I made this place my second home, an oasis if u will where I wasn’t governed by any laws or the constant cacophony of my parents and their good old classic speech ‘ what are you doing with your life’ … I liked it here and these walls contain all my stories… ahh if the walls could only speak what kind of story would they tell… good stories that end in a very realistic or often sarcastic ‘ ha ha ha’ .. or would it be one of those endings that left everyone reaching for the tissues…
Well no matter what it says I just hope it is as I lived it…. Happy with certain interruptions of disappointment , heartbreak , fear , loathing and general let down….
I will never ever forget the inmates of this place… I call them inmates because it was a jail of some kind… but rather the bond we shared can be only related to cousins or even brothers… yes I call them my brothers because at certain point of my life I shared everything with them…… and they theirs… yes we drank together, smoked together, ate together , laughed together and cried together….
The very few of the best days of my life were spent in this 12 feet by 12 feet room on 61 S.B. Road V.V. Puram Bangalore….. as much as I hate to admit it but I will remember each and everyday I spent with my buddies and remember each and everyone of them….
Mr. Shravan… the curly freak.. used to wash his clothes at 1 in the morning like a ghost and immediately after he comes to my room and says… ‘ Macha u wanna smoke’…..
Mr. Vipin… computer genius and basically a whiz on anything electronic… and my favorite green crusader…
Mr. Baidyanathan… mechanic wizard… and my soul rectifier.. yes you pour your heart out in front of him and he will listen to you and give you the best advice possible so that you can disregard it totally….
Mr. Mohit my ex… not in the sense of lovers but roommates…. He is a person I have never met who can behave cordially with everyone… takes talent…
Mr. Bipul…. Well he can change the world in a matter of minutes if it had been his authority or his dictatorship and we thank god its not …. He has a small problem with authority and his theories about life and everything in between is as outlandish as snow in Calcutta….
There are so many people that have become part of my life at one point or the other and each have left their mark in the respective places… but I cherish these moments as if it was just yesterday…
As I moved out I wasn’t sure if was happy or sad or just about anything in between but I am glad that I got to spend sum time with these amazing people and had fun doing it….
Now I am stayin with another gujrati freak and am havin fun.. I will write about him someday and its gonna be a blast…..