Split

We sat there. Lost in the presence of each other. It had been so long. I had sorely missed her. Maybe because we had missed a lot of things together. Dates, birthdays and parties had all gone by with me standing in the corner trying to call her. Then she left.

We had our space. But later there was just too much of it. We would call each other everyday only to realise both of us are fucked up in our own way. We did our best to hide it from each other. It worked sometimes.

But most of the times one of us would usually say, "Babe. Whats wrong?". These three words would open the floodgate which somehow had held back a river of emotions. I was, back then, the only person she could talk to. I enjoyed the exclusiveness. She enjoyed the fact that someone was listening to her. We were in love. But all the things that we had to deal with were the things we had no control over. We were just living through a phase in which both of us were trying to do damage control till the day we could be together.

The phone rang one afternoon. I had just stormed out of class and was on my way to get a drink. It was her. She sounded happy. That made me happy. She told me that she was coming back fo good. I was elated. These past few months were horrible and I was just about to crack. She was going to be here in 2 days. Time to prepare.

She came home on a bright sunny day. I was cooking and had bought a bottle of wine. The whole day was spent feeding ourselves, listening to music and a little fooling around. She was back. And I was back.

The days went by with us rediscovering ourselves. New bands, New shows and the new scenes with the world were the things that we would talk about. She was a great friend as well. Someone who hated being pretentious. I would talk non stop only to catch her looking right at me. Actually listening. I felt content. Something I hadn't felt in long time.

Then something happened that totally rocked my wagon. We were at her place chilling out. I was babbling on about something when I saw that she wasn't really into the conversation. It was a possibilty I could've bored the crap out of her. She looked at me and said we need to talk. Oh fucking hell.

We stood outside with our cups of tea. She told me that she had taken up a new course and had to go back. I was shattered. So many months of waiting. For what? Things had not been good and this is the last thing I needed. So I did what I had to do. I called the whole thing off. I told her that we would both be in a better place with someone else. I knew she needed someone. Someone who could be there for her.

She was heart broken. She told me that we could work things out. That she would come down more. But I had made up my mind. It was over.

We spent the rest of the evening cuddled up to each other. No words were spoken. None were necessary. She cried a bit. I just sat there, looking completetly unfazed by the whole thing. Truth is it was hurting, it was hurting real bad. I couldn't sit there anymore. A long kiss and then I left.

The ride back home was weird. The roads were empty. Bruce springsteen was playing on my headphones. I felt sick. I couldn't reason with myself. The only thing that made sense then was no more.

The voice of reason finally spoke. It told me that things were going to be better this way. It told me that we were missing too much by restricting each other. That we needed someone we could be with whenever we wanted. I felt at ease. I rode to my friend's place to tell him one hell of a story.

Hard at work.

There are a lot of things that make you feel good. There are a lot of things that make you feel not so good. We as humans enjoy watching other humans who are in deeper shit than us. Its elemental, its instinctive and we all love it.

This theory however can be used in a positive way too. A long time ago, when my bike had mirrors, I was riding back home from one of the most horrid days of my life. Just to make things worse my phone wasn't working, It was raining, I had left my jacket at a friend's place and I was generally tired. But the icing on the cake was a huge traffic jam caused by a lorry driver who probably had a score to settle with the city. The idiot had driven right into the median."And I said to myself what a wonderful world."

A nice pot bellied cop helped in clearing up the mess. I took a look at his white ol' school enfield and sighed, just hoping that I'd own a 'hog' like that in the near future. The traffic finally cleared up and I hit the famous Hebbal flyover. It was around 9 pm.

The view from the flyover always picks up my mood a little. Its lovely to see the buildings lit up by the lake. But I should've known that the day wasn't over. Just as I got to the top I saw two buses trying to overtake each other. What they don't realise is that they are travelling at freaking 20 kmph. All the way down I saw these two idoits play hopscotch with each other. I was ready to go postal on the next person who mananges to make this day more special.

Now came the last leg of my journey. A km on the highway, A km in the suburbs and I am home. Time to rediscover the 4th and the 5th gear on my motorcycle. I loaded the barrel and pointed it home. By now every inch of my body was soaked.

"I just need some sleep. A lot of sleep. Maybe a shower before that. Some rum. Oh yeah lots of rum." These were the thoughts running through my head when I saw something I will never forget. On my left I saw a brightly dressed sex worker. Usual sight in hebbal after 8pm. But this one was special. This person of the third gender was the only pedestrian on the entire highway. What was worse is that the rain hadn't dwindled. But not to worry. The madam was wearing a bright orange jacket. She looked like a traffic cone ready to get married. I guess she was being picked up. What amount of drive does it take for her to do that? Maybe it was out of compulsion. Maybe she has an ass for a pimp. All that didn't seem to matter. She just stood there smiling.

I was amazed by her. At how she took everything that came by completely unfazed. She made me seem like a bit of a wuss and I thank her for that. Just as I passed her I gave her a smile and a wave. She smiled back.

The last leg of the ride home was uneventful. I was too zoned to notice anyway. I got home, took a shower, Drank some rum and went right to bed. As I was lying down getting some last minute thinking done I just realised my day was done. Her day was just beginning. She showed me to smile at someone's strength, not laugh at someone pity. Thank you.

I still laugh at other people's misery though. The other day a drunk fell into an open drain and I couldn't stop laughing for the rest of the day. What to do? I am human.

To Punk or Not To Punk

I was having a conversation with one of my friend's friend when i asked her my usual question I ask any new person I meet, " Do you listen to music?". She said yes and i asked her what is her genre of preference. She said she likes all genres of music which was said out of sheer diplomacy. Then i asked her what genre is she into right now and she said "PUNK". I was impressed and asked her who is her favorite artist in the genre. My stomach twisted a little when she said "AVRIL LAVIGNE"

If you need to piss me off this is one of the easiest ways to do it. Out of all the great artists like the Sex pistols, the Ramones and the Clash she had to mention this commercial wannabe sellout. I am a very broad minded person but there is only so much bullshit i can take. AVRIL LAVIGNE IS NOT PUNK.


Punk is poetry. Punk is a bold form of music which is Clear, to the point and very opinionated. It is a very well crafted message showcasing the perils and pitfalls of society. When i think of punk I remember lines like "Beat the brat with a base ball bat"
or "He wasn't fit to shuffle shit from one place to another" but the certainly not "Hey hey you you i want to be your girl friend". If that is punk then I am a 9 year old girl from Borneo.

So when I heard her refer to Avril Lavigne as punk I told her in the nicest way possible, " I got to go. you are giving me an ulcer" and walked away.

As 'NORM' al as ever.

Let me tell you a story, a story bout how i got the name 'Norm'. One fine evening a very good friend of mine walks up to me and says "Dude you gotta listen to this song" and played me a song on his phone. It was called 'Norm,the guy is cool' by a band named Tripwire. The song had a good riff and funny lyrics which you would like but wouldn't usually analyse for a deeper meaning. Well,thats what happened to me the first time. I liked the song but soon forgot about it. It was quite some time after that when me and my friend switched phones, that i heard the song again and it somehow got me hooked. I heard it a couple of times back to back and realised a good part of the song captured a good part of the person i was. The song was about a fat geek who loves to fart in any public and as much as this sounds like me there was another part that perfectly summed up what i thought of society, that it is designed to tear your creative side and push you into the downward spiral of being mediocre.

But Norm is one those people that who doesn't give a shit. He is constantly being judged for being the person he is. He is always being mocked for being different. But people dont realise that Norm is the one who will have a good night's sleep 'cause he has no issues regarding being true to himself. And doesn't waste time in pleasing people. He rather get wasted. So i truely believe that everyone in their own way should aspire to be like norm.

One more thing i pondered a bit about is when my friend told me the very first time i heard this song that it was about me. I thought he just said that because the character in the song was a freak. But i later realised that he had also analysed the song. So i truly thank him for making me listen to the song. Norm is what the world needs. Norm is a superhero. And although i am not close to the man he is i honestly aspire to be him in my own way.

Its been a long time since the first time i heard the song. But even today my friend calls me norm and i reply as a good friend sayin, "Buzz off you hippie".