Friday, May 16, 2014

An ode to the Munchkin



All right I’ll be honest on this one. I called dad to confirm what time I should go and fetch “Munchkin” from the dealership. His voice tells me that he is too engaged with his office routines and doesn’t want to be disturbed. But that wasn’t my concern. All I wanted to know that how soon he could handle me the standing amount I need to pay to the pesky sales in-charge who was calling me almost every day since the Bullet arrived. Dad wasn’t convinced enough and told me to wait another day or two to get the delivery.
“I couldn’t handle anymore”, I said to myself and disconnected the call.
“Fuck then, fuck everything else. I don’t want it. Screw you. Screw it. Screw that. If you didn’t want me to get it why didn’t you let me know earlier”, I went around the house shouting and yelling like a maniac on a loose. I thumped back into my room and shut the door tight.
Mom was screaming that I should behave maturely and swear to spank my ass once I opened the door. My uncle on the other hand tried to convince me and was calling for me to open the door. My aunty was trying her clowning techniques from the gallery that faced the window of my room to make me laugh and to cheer me up. But none of that or anything else seems to work. Yeah I was acting stupid. But god damn, I was emotional. I felt my heart crushed. I had waited 2 months to get my Bullet, made calls to the Regional office, fought with the local dealer over the booking issues and literally went around declaring the tool of my independence and my  self- righteousness to almost everyone I had known. And now the people have started asking question about my machine and why is it getting so late. I was running out of excuses to give to these clowns. People go crazy when you declare something fascinating to them but began doubting your intentions once you miss the deadline. In my case, the situation was more than just intense because I had stated about that one thing that stood as a symbol of ultimate liberty and heavenly audacity. The untamed and raw beast which she was that still remains that undisputed queen of every sovereign citizen of Republic Of India and of many other nations. The Royal Enfield Bullet.
Monday went in all dismay and frustration. I didn’t feel like having my dinner. I had made a firm decision in my mind that the next morning I am going to cancel my booking and ask for refunds. And so I slept with this downhearted thought. But over all these years I have learned about myself I knew I was one sly and sham creature and I knew by next morning by anger would subside and I would be back  imploring down on my humble requests to bring her home as soon as Chuck Norris would do. And so did it occurred. Well I tried to pretend that I was still adamant on my decision but the sight of her moving in front of my eyes was making me weak and I could no longer hold on to my juvenile idiocy. I took the money dad had left me the other night in my drawer and called Anshul and Ishaan. What I did expected was a facial series of abuses and some pampering on my ass but it did work out well.
An hour has passed. There she stands outside the glass door, shining in all her glory and draped in her armour. The enormous and a naked beastly engine that appeared to be a seducing character was tempting me to touch her and run my nubile fingers all over and across her hand crafted body.
My dad, his office colleague and my uncle took their leave. Anshul too proceeded towards his home. And now it was just me and Ishaan. I was  reluctant to ride her first as I had never ever owned a motorcycle in my life before and the only one I had ever driven were Ishaan’s Pulsar and my maternal uncle’s TVS Star City. I was just too scared to scratch her body or do anything that may accidentally cause her any hurt so I asked Ishaan to take the rider seat while I was contended from the pillion view. Fuel pump check, kill switch off, downshift to neutral and fire up that engine. A long screech and then the most beautiful thump I ever heard in my entire life. I felt literally like we have just awoken the goddess of war and destruction. And it sang the melody of doom and apocalypse. It was terrifying such colossal and raw power that was waiting to be unleashed from the belly of this monster but there was an ample degree of feministic charm and fierce emotions that allured the two of us towards our destiny. She was a siren in true form and I knew that if we don’t get her all the care and respect she deserves she will cast the most brutal of wraths upon both us.
Downshift to first gear and we experience a slight motion and a heck lot of vibrations like if someone had planted a vibrator into our asses. A huge smile ran across our faces. Upshift to second gear and we were on the road. What seem unbelievable was that we were actually dragging a 190kgs of pure guts and adrenaline and extra packed up horse power down on the most unforgiving roads of India. The way he thumps, the way she moves, the way she drove the attention of mass where ever she went. People making inquires at stops. Ogling at her, some admiring her, pretty girls passing smiles, it was auto-orgasmic. I could feel a tingling feeling in my balls and like something was getting pumped up with the intensity of a turbocharger. And so we drove our way all the way from Chappan to the Residency Area and into the University Campus and then back on the roads. And before even we could realise, we noticed we had already lived 52 kilometres of futile yet the most beautiful moment ever. My mind was asking me to let myself go with her alone on a long drive but some sanity was holding me back from acting all nuts. But then there comes a moment when you finally decide to keep all that good sense at bay, sidelining all your virtues and just do something that is purely stupid and retarded. Not because your brain fathoms you to or your mind compels you to conquer your fears but because for that moment you want to feel the thrill of that one act. For that one moment you want to live and breadth.
And so I did, the same night after having my dinner, I sneaked across the parking area, removed the veil in which she was wrapped and fired up the engine. The next thing I know I dragged her down in the first gear for few yards and finally gained some courage, put it into the second one and I was cruising at 30 on the dark street behind Holkar College. Yes I made a lunatic call and I loved it. 3 days have passed, I have done 150 kilometres on her. Tomorrow I’ll be going to get her some crash guard to protect her perfectly chiselled and seducing body and I will be back on my way. And as the saying goes about her:
“Made like a gun, goes like a bullet”. She and I are making the love I were dreamt about. Me and my  Munchkin.

Sunday, May 11, 2014

Drenched in Sadism



It’s Sunday. Almost the end of it. 10.30 in the clock. The media player is playing tracks from “The perks of being a wallflower”. I loved the movie more than anything than the fact that I consider could see a reflection of mine in Charlie’s character. There was a sense of subtly and a kind of truthfulness in that character that would not be appreciated by a lot. But rather be tagged and then hurled around calling it a pussy or a jackass. I don’t blame such folks. The world is just a confused place and most people are just too stupid to comprehend any situation and appreciate the beauty that lay in the bespoken complexities of human nature. So as the playlist continued to play the utterly compassionate form of concealed melodies as I browsed through the countless photographs through facebook of those whom I ever knew celebrating their graduation. I see happy and smiling face. Hands in hands. Throwing each other over the shoulders. Emotional comments and long lasting promises to stay forever in touch.  For that was the moment I was confronted by a austere realism that had me wondering since then. I opened the gallery in my laptop, browsing through hundreds of photographs and realised that there wasn’t even a single photo that I could cherish for a moment. All those pictures of me and my friends in which either I was missing or in which they appeared like someone had just compelled them to put a smile on their face were mocking in absolute wretchedness like it has been some impure form of entertainment to them. I could look at my friends, they appeared happy while I clicked them or when I was missing from the picture but I couldn’t reach for even one that I might look upon in desperation and when I am low to recall those faces and think of all those times we spend together. I look upon those dust gilded memories and wonder whether if it was just a coincidence or an act of ignorance and preservation of self esteem. After all I had taken my place in some of the deepest crevices of human existence where I had no further regards and virtues for any sort of fame and recognition. I am just too contempt with my life. I enjoy my solitary times. I speak only to people I find worth talking to. All I ever ask for is a plain but merry life. But to the contrary I am mocked for my music and movies, made fun of my accent often and called for being an egoist and too much absorbed in himself. Sometimes I wonder writing all this crap makes me look like a sadistic asshole who disdains the joys of small things in life or somehow who is just too blinded by his misery to see the brighter side of it. I don’t know if anyone ever reads my blog or ever find it worth a dime but writing all this gives me an excuse to let it out what I might be holding in my heart otherwise. It relieves me of the agony and mental breakdowns I might witness if I do not express them.  
I wonder how many of the plans people ever make are going to work out. Or if they will ever find a moment to even call each other or send a text once the reality begins to consume them all. Maybe someday they will run into each other. Maybe it will be a formal reunion for them or maybe they will see each other from two distinct corners of some diner, they will recognise each other. They will feel an urge to talk but will hesitate to make a move. And then they will just smile across the distance and walk their separate ways. I don’t know what life holds for anyone in the future but I have a feeling that it’ll end up good. It might not be as you expected it to be but it will be joyful and it will be worth.
In all these years ever since I ended up in college, I have reached to a realisation that I am just an old man trapped in a young man’s body. But of  many things in our life we become, we are infinite.