"Whatever has happened once, will not happen again..but what has happened twice is bound to happen for the third time..." - Paulo Coelho from "The Alchemist"

No 'frills' attached

I had one of the best coffee in the world today. The froth was an inch thick, the liquid sweet with lots of chocolate powder thrown in for good measure and was piping hot. The best point??? The fucking cup cost me 15 bucks. 15 lousy rupees which I might have used to buy some cheap cigarettes (am kinda in budget mode...spent all my money a week ago on vodka), were well used to discover the best joint to have coffee in this part of town. It is a cold night in Delhi and having a steaming cup of coffee in one hand, cigi's in the other and eyes on girls passing by with your best man, rambling about his fucked up love life, in tow is simply priceless.
And then there was the roadside burger nested inside a fried bun with a healthy portion of veggies (tomatoes and cabbage and onions) to please the health freak and that sweet, liquidy, water-thinned sauce oozing out of it everytime you take a bite. 5 rupees only.
Screw the CCD's & Baristas of this world and McDonald should just roll over and die.
(I bloody well forgot that I was supposed to be depressed after the outing & by the way you can get that coffee at PVR Saket).

Me, Music, Condoms & Something about my Family

This started when my dear old Dad (yeah right Old... girls fall for him more then they fall for me and my bro...talk about competition at home) said to my mom (she looks more like my older sister...has been mistaken for a college girl in the past...why do I have such Dysfunctional family???)," I don't understand what they are singing but I like what I hear"(it was an Akon song "Mindstate of a Mobster") ,but it was the next line which actually started the thought process,"they are teens,('they' here signifies me and my brother & my dad keeps forgetting we have grown up quite a bit in the last 20 odd years but I give him the benefit of doubt, he was not around when we were growing up, busy at the border and stuff) while I'm not...our tastes are bound to be different." For him the dialogue ended right there but for me it was the initiator.

Everyone, or usually everyone, thinks that being from Generation X-,Y- or Z-( I've no idea I'm part of which by the way & quite frankly don't give a rat's ass) is all about having those wild times,when the adrenaline is pumping high and your mind is just taking a vacation in some irrational, irrelevant place. It is the time of the carefree attitudes and the time when we let go of the rebel in us, do whatever we want, drink the night away, experiment with dope and pot (finally deciding dope is better but more expensive so I ought to stick to my packet a day of cigarettes), have countless love affairs and go out of the way to help a buddy out of a tough situation even when it means we'll become a party to whatever fuck your mate decided to land into (including a freaking police case...man Sush what were you thinking??). We do it all, giving the impression of wasting our lives.

I actually am quite a lucky guy in this respect that I've got understanding parents, who maybe are very simple and innocent that they believe everything I tell them, including a gum that smells of cigi's or are rather onto me knowing every time with whom I'm with or why it is essential for me to take a night time stroll with matches in my pocket. I fear it is the latter and instead of praising my over-smartness I should thank lord for their nature (or maybe for the fact both have been through the same motions, Dad specially...He was a Rockstar in his time, still is actually with his branded suits and cargoes and leather jacket and shirts, a Tissot watch on his wrist, Ray Ban sunglasses and racing antics at the Greater Noida expressway in his Chevrolet SRV...I got one hell of a role model ).
I never had to switch channels when an adult scene played on in a movie. Never I had to justify to my Maa why I had a girlfriend whom I used to bring home and suddenly there is no mention of her. Even when mom found a pack of half open and empty condoms in my almirah she listened to my take that it was just part of a 'dare', laughed out loud (I still got a feeling she knew the truth) and never mentioned it again.

Of course there have been times when my parents had gone through dilemmas of their own and have behaved in purely orthodox fashion but I understand. They are confused whether they should act like modern parents and give us a home where we can talk about virtually anything, from being gay to asking Dad for a drink(I drink with my Dad so sue me...he taught me the difference between scotch and premium whisky and developed my taste for vodka...his thinking goes that now that you know of the evil and are comfortable with me, you'll drink with me where I can keep an eye on you and look out for you or atleast let your better sense prevail & won't get talli...I overheard this... I GOT THE BEST DAD...YEAH I LOVE HIM !!!) or they should teach us the values and tradition that have been installed in them by their parents.
They learn each day how to deal with two vicious monsters in the house, balance modernity and traditionality and in turn show us what parenting is all about (and maybe that's why I have a feeling I'll be a terrific dad... I got two great role models in front of me ).

I know maybe I won't ever get the opportunity to tell them what a great job they are doing and they have actually reared us quite well, have installed the values of love and care in us, made us compassionate and yet at the same time shown us the perils of the world, made us street smart, gave the best possible life that someone like me deserves, listened to my situations, solved the worst of my problems and been there for me (my bro is the good son so I have the duty to keep shaking the lives of my parents to install some excitement in their lives).

And yeah a special mention of my Mama, he is a Gemini like me, cool as a cucumber, got a great sense of humour and one of the most intelligent persons I have met. We are not as close I would like us to be but just so he is very important for me. As my Mom once said about me to my Nani ," Antriksh doesn't care what we'll think but he sure as gives a lot of weightage to whatever Akhil says(my Mama), he kind of worships the ground I walk on (I never knew that it was that obvious !!!) but follows him blindly".

And as for my Music taste, Dad asked for some golden oldies and gazals to be downloaded from the net, which I had already done so, and he said "Now you are developing a taste for some good music".

Yeah right Dad... All thanks to you. (Wait till he hears songs from Zeest, Honey Singh and Linkin Park I have in my collection.


Three is a Crowd

The door bell rang. The notes of Beethoven’s unfinished symphony rang through the house. How I hated that sound & how much she loved it.
I crossed the kitchen where the last of yesterdays frozen pizza was inviting me to have my delicious dinner for one and to wash it down with a chilled beer. As I passed through the living room, my eyes fell on the half finished pack of Marlboro’s finest tempting me to take one quick drag. But I couldn’t. How much I missed my smoking days. How much I used to devour it & how much she hated my this one habit. He must’ve left it here. I felt nostalgic. Him, Jaianand Yadav, JaY, my best friend, my erratic, eccentric pal, the younger brother I never had.

The door bell filled my duplex with that unbearable cacophony again.
“Wait, I’m almost there” I said.

I opened the door & saw two men facing me with police written all over them. There couldn’t have been a more chalk & cheese kind of a couple then this lot before me. One of them was huge, round & chubby. He had a pink face and wore a black dirty jacket which failed to hide his unmistakable bulging beer belly. Small eyes peeped at me through his fat face as light reflected from his bald dome & the bushy rat beneath his nose moved as he offered me the most sadistic smile in this part of town. The other one was tall, thin as a rod and wore a very intimidating expression on his long, gaunt clean shaven face. He had the thinnest lips I’ve ever seen & the most penetrating stare I ever had to go through.

It was almost two years ago that JaY returned to my life. We’ve stayed in touch through the not-so-marvelous devices of the modern world during this period of absence. He came back with his boyish charm intact, his easygoing laidback attitude still in place and that academic humour of his still brewing. It was a fact well evident from our college days that girls flocked him & for guys, he was their favourite punching bag. He was that cute little baby every girl wanted to take home, tuck in bed tend to, hope for a little luck to lay him and rape his innocence, which was all a façade actually because it was he who was the predator and not the innocent rabbit every girl assumed him to be. But he devoured much of his energy in books and academia then pursuing the pleasures of the flesh. In spite of his finesse as a master seducer he used to consider it as his secondary worthless ability, something that came naturally to him so was in fact an accepted part of himself, not to be made a big deal of. He was three years junior to me & maybe because of the way he used to be ridiculed at by the boys, I had taken pity on him and taken him under my wing and in return had gained a follower who worshipped me.

“She’s asleep, after such a long time. Please keep your voices down”.
“Off course, my apologies for disturbing you at such odd hour but well…I’m Inspector Raghav Chandra and this is Inspector Joy D’souza…well he doesn’t look jolly but her mother thought he did so…hehe” said the chubby face as he dangled his ID.

I met Sachi on 24th August 2005, we were in bed a week later and she moved in with me a week after that. She was a bit younger then I, 22 at that time while I was touching mid forties. Appearance wise she hardly looked over 16, with smooth flawless skin and a slightly built frame but emotionally, mentally she was fragile. She was soft spoken and hardly ever raised her voice but she was passionate and had a sense of character which made her more attractive then she actually was. I never asked her about her earlier life and she didn’t mention it, we were in love but we gave each other space, making each other not our lives but a part of it. In bits and pieces I learnt about her broken home, her numerous lovers, her tryst with peace rallies, NGO’s and the wretch of the society. And her passion for music that surpassed everything. We have been to so many plays, theatres, musicals, concerts to feed her artistic appetite and all of them which I could not tolerate, yet I suffered through them all just to see her smile.

“We have been assigned to the case Sir.” the fat face was saying. “And there are some things we would like to ask you”
As the gaunt face took in the apartment, which was very neat and tidy all due to Sachi’s effort, I made my way towards the bar to pour a scotch for myself. They were uninvited guests, and even at that, rotten corruptible policemen. I didn’t need to follow any rules of decency yet they were assigned to the case so maybe…

“How well did you know him then?? You were at college with him right?? Everyone said you and him were very close friends. Is it true?? Any strange dealings he was associated in?? Anything irrelevant you will wish to tell us that you think won’t help us with our investigation??”

The moment I introduced Sachi & JaY I knew they will get along great. Finally JaY had found someone who would hear all his ideological crap, with whom he can discuss all the shortcomings & wrongdoings of the world, preach what ought to be done to make this earth heaven and in short had recruited a loyal follower. Sachi on the other hand discovered someone, something to believe in. I knew she was tired of taking solace in music and tried to understand her concern for the world but I couldn’t. I never considered myself responsible for the world’s ills, not causing them, not for curing them. Most of the world was a jungle overrun with savages and facing problems which were mostly insoluble and frankly for me my quiet corner was a heaven wrested from the jaws of hell and that was the only thing that mattered. I gave them both my blessings and soon JaY became a part of our lives. He would drop by whenever he pleased, when we were in a middle of a fight, watching our favorite movie, cooking dinner, lying lazily or making love. He had a habit of not calling up and doing whatever he would like. He wouldn’t call up for weeks and sometimes a month and Sachi would fret over this fact while I would try to cover my jealousy. And there were days when he would stay with us, sleeping next door and these were the times I really hated because I knew that Sachi was with me in bed but the hands which were caressing her were not mine.

The gaunt face never said anything as Chandra kept on hurling questions and writing in his notepad. I knew both of them were sharp and intelligent. I’ve seen the world enough to know that appearance can be deceiving. Chandra might look a soft bumbling happy character out of a B-grade movie and D’souza might be more at ease as the evil henchman of a C-grade flicks villain but they were good policemen in the end.
“If you don’t mind me asking, how long have you been staying here?? Both of you that is??”

I was helpless. There was nothing I could do but see their romance unravel in front of me. My sense of false pride and the sense of freedom I had given to Sachi forbade me to confront her and I knew JaY would laugh out loud and put everything on my overimaginative mind and to the insecurity of my age yet I knew I had become just another piece of furniture in their lives, a mute spectator who wasn’t worthy of any attention. As I fumed and got hurt never once did I hate Sachi. She was just a poor young girl who was being pulled into a vortex made by a womanizer. She was very simple and innocent and had no idea what bastard rested inside the assured self of JaY. I hated his very existence. Hated the fact that every day he used to win Sachi from me. Every night she would go to sleep thinking about him. Not a moment passed when he would leave her mind. It was as if he had become the part of the house’s air, part of our conversations, our world rotated around him. She had become his mother, his wife, his lover, his companion and I have been reduced to a long forgotten old song. I hated myself because it was suppose to be me who should be loved by her, should be worshipped. Wasn't I the person who had given Sachi the life she's worthy of?? Didn't I give her enough luxuries, comfort, care & love?? I ought to have been her protector yet I was the one who had failed her. I had driven her into his arms, introduced them, and not tried to stop them. I despised myself for lacking in courage to do anything about it. Untill two weeks ago when I took out my gun from the safe and decided to end my tormentor once and for all.

“Well Sir we must take your leave now. Here is my number. Call me whenever you remember anything. We will be back, we need to question her too…I know it’s bad but there are these damn procedures. By the way how is she doing?? It has been two weeks since he disappeared and as you told me they were quite close.”
“You play that??” asked the gaunt face for the first time looking at the violin.
“No, she does but hasn't since he disappeared”

I saw them go out the door, the chubby one first and Joy after him, mumbling Good Night or something.
I remembered the night when I finally had the courage to face JaY and listen to his half drunken audacity. I might've had forgiven him if he hadn't put his charming unassuming smile and said to me "I stole your woman brother, I'm sorry but I did, I stole her because I love her and she gave herself to me because she loves me too". As soon as the predator said this from the lips of my drunken academic best friend, I hit him. I hit him with all my heart, with all my pain, all my suffering and all my love.

As I entered the bedroom I saw her sleeping like a baby. Her nightdress riding up revealing her white thighs, her breasts rising when she breathed, her black hair on the pillows and her soft pink lips which drove me mad. I wanted to love her right at this instant.
“They gone??” she asked as she woke up from her half finished dream.
“Yes baby, they will come again to talk to you but don’t you worry. It’s gonna be fine” said JaY as he went down to kiss the lips that should’ve been rightfully mine.

I backed out from the door as she started to moan. If only I hadn’t lost my nerve that day and shot him, it would’ve been me instead of him besides her.
As I descended the stairs I tried to remember whether it was him who had shot me that night or whether it was her who had poisoned me after I got home or whether it was me who had jumped into the sea in the early hours??

That is the trouble with death, you can’t recall your last moments.


It felt good. In fact it felt really great.

My dick was hurting from fucking her hard for so long and my tongue ached for I had licked her cunt continuously for over an hour. It is a hard job to please a woman, satisfy her, keep her wanting for more and yet the ecstasy of the whole work is without comparison, unmatched, unparalleled. Words fail to describe the feeling when you finally reach an orgasm, when your white semen overflows her warm, wet pussy and oozes out of it and you feel her writher beneath you in her own world of pleasure. Pity I usually miss out the last part. Never have a lady cried in delight beneath me, a lot have cried out loud in pain but never in joy.

I sat on the foot of the bed and patted the thigh. It was still wet from my sweat and their blood. I took a towel and wiped the blood of me. That is the trouble of fucking two dead bodies, it gets very messy. You see every man has a particular position he is most satisfied with. For me well, I love to fuck and give an oral at the same time, which is quite impossible with a single woman so I just invented my own position. 88. So what if I have to kill two women whenever I feel horny?? Atleast I don’t go to bed with the same ladies twice.

I walked past the two useless upper torsos resting neatly near the door.

On the bloodied bed lay there better halves sewn together at the waist haphazardly.

A Tale of Two Mothers

The half moon enlightened the whole landscape. It was a yellow pale night and the trees were standing still in the absence of any wind. The stillness and quietness of the forest projected a false sense of peace and tranquility in one. The river however was indifferent as usual, minding its own business, flowing with its usual nonchalance attitude, shimmering as the moonlight played on its surface and giving shelter to life and death alike. She had witnessed everything in her course, death and life, destruction and creation, sadness and elation. So many times she had been the part of the most terrible as well as the most euphoric moments of the earth’s history that she has learnt that nothing but plain naivety is what is expected from her.

The doe gracefully started walking towards the river. She was still in pain from giving birth to a beautiful fawn a few hours ago and wanted to drink a little water before she guides the young one towards the herd. She will show him all the green pastures, the safest watering holes, how to keep with the herd. And will watch him grow up to be a strong member of the group, watch him fight for dominance and finally forget his mothers existence as soon as he will reach puberty.

She was a beautiful deer with soft, charcoal-black eyes which sparkled dimly in the translucent night, with short antlers residing on her head like a queens crown and a coat of brownish-yellowish colour on her back that turned white as it reached her belly. She had strong and powerful legs making her capable of reaching the speed of wind in a matter of seconds and at the present moment she was using them to display a graceful walk, a walk every women in the world will die for, as if she was gliding in the sky instead of walking on the damp earth.

She reached the river, avoiding the slippery rocks and watching closely for any signs of danger, for it was an ungrateful companion of every animal in the forest, an unforgiving friend which when decides to betray you leaves you nothing but as a long forgotten ruin of an ancient dynasty. And the first and only rule that she knew of surviving in this world was to be careful, even when you are in the group and specially when you are on your own.

But tonight she was not careful enough. Maybe it was the pain and tiredness of giving birth or maybe it was the joy of being a mother, whatever might be the reason, she had missed a pair of eyes observing her every movement.
The eyes burned bright and were like two miniature suns in the darkness. How she missed them is truly baffling because even a blind man could’ve felt there intensity, if not see them, but maybe this was written in the course of destiny that she was supposed to be unaware of there existence completely until it was too late.

Nothing at that moment held the concentration of the tigress more then her pray. She watched her reach the shore and must have decided that this was the opportunate moment to strike because she suddenly started to move out into the open. With the river acting as her ally and forming a barricade against the deer and herself playing the part of the perfect attacker, the deer had nil chance of survival unless fate decides to spare the new mother and settle to have a cruel laugh on her expense instead.

With a snarl she got out from her cover and instantly she could feel the heat of the hunt entering her body and all the instincts hone in for the kill. She sprinted towards the shore just as the deer’s instincts warned her of the approaching death but too late. She turned but was petrified right there on the spot and saw the yellow striped death meters away from her, ready to jump on to her. The last thoughts of the deer were about her newborn.


The tigress could smell the fear, she could taste the blood, and she could see that this time she’ll have plenty of food for herself as well as for her three month old cubs, who hadn’t eaten a full stomach since the day they were born. With surety of success in her grasp, she extended her claws and with the aid of her powerful hindlegs leapt the last few meters separating her and the deer. Her last thoughts were about her cubs. She died before she hit the ground.


From dense foliage the fawn witnessed the whole scene unraveling before him. A moment before where his mother stood near the edge of the river, now lied her lifeless corpse & inches away lied a big yellow thing, which had appeared suddenly out of nowhere, running and leaping towards his mother an instance before, now lying just as lifeless beside her. He saw two things descend from a nearby tree walking towards the bodies on two legs in a strange uptight manner and holding glistering, shining rods in their hands. He could smell the strange odour, which had spread in the air just before two loud noises had disturbed the quietness of the forest.

From beneath another tree two cubs observed the same scene.

The river flowed callously, adding another instance to her experience.

Towards Nirvana...with Smirnoff & Rothman

The smoke swirled around his head for some moments before dissolving into the night. He threw away the stub and for the first time in a hour took air into his lungs without the accompanying fumes.
The stale smell of tobacco engulfed him and he could taste the acrylic butt of the cigarette intermingled with the burning aroma of vodka. His insides were on fire but it was the fire within his mind & soul that had forced him to take the cheap course of 'the stick & the drink'.
You will die one day... Your smoking will kill you ...stop doing this to yourself...please...

He was tired of gazing at the stars. He wanted to get up from the cot and go downstairs and sleep in his bed. He wished for a good life, a comfortable life, without much worries, much pain. He wished for so many things. He wished for amnesia. To forget everything and live life afresh. He wished her to come back. He wished his present girl to love him back. He wished for the uncertainty of his existence to go away. He wished for stronger stuff. Something that would choke his lungs with smoke, taking out all the air and leave him gasping for his breath. Something that would burn his throat more effectively and set his insides on fire with a new zeal. Something.. anything to deviate his mind from this feeling of helplessness.
"If only I would've foreseen this and arranged for some dope..."

Please don't ever leave me...even if you would have to fake your love and care just do it...be around me forever... never leave me...
In the end she was the one who left him.

You gave her your best shot but it was not meant to be...accept it and move on...
He lit another stick.

"If only...". He forced his mind not to dwell on this line of thinking. If that would have had happened, he would've been wishing for something else altogether. Human mind always wish for something else, it is never satisfied with what it has in his hands. "How will a person who has nothing left to wish for live??" he mused and abandoned the thought as soon as it was formed.

Everything is written...whatever has to happen will happen...that is inevitable...

He needed more juice in his drink but discarded the thought aside for he wanted a searing pain in his head the next morning. A hangover he desperately craved for but which has evaded him throughout his life. No matter how much alcohol he take, he always woke up the next morning fresh, a little late but without any effects of the night before.
"That would be a welcome change... I'll welcome all the physical pain in this world just to forget this heartache". He poured more rum and whiskey into his glass instead and gulped the cocktail down in one go. It wasn't a warm night and the chilly wind entered his loose shirt and made his body cold, yet he didn't feel a thing. Every drop of the amber coloured liquid sent blazing, warm shivers in his body. Every pore radiated a hotness he had never felt before.

She had come back into his life that morning only. Crying. But he didn't feel a thing. He didn't allow himself to feel a thing. He pitied her, felt sympathetic but that was it. He would've felt the same for anyone else he knew. He didn't feel the same special way as he did before when he was with her.
You have killed the feeling of love in yourself...you don't love her..you don't love your present girl...you don't love anyone...

He recalled the conversation he had with his present girl. Poor baby is herself going through a lean patch,trying to figure out her calling in life.Poor girl.

You don't love me...you think you love me...you want yourself to believe that...

"What would she say??" the image of another girl sprang to his mind. She loved him or at least she said she loved him. A smile started to appear on his dry lips. "Definitely she is gonna go bonkers...dead sure she'll use all the obscenities she knows".Cute. Pity he was always so cruel towards her. Always made her cry even when he didn't want to.
Will you ever say 'I love you too' back to me???

He lighted another cigarette and took in a long drag."Well that's a new personal record, two packs in a hour"

Life was throwing curveballs at him and like everyone in this world he was not backing down. He had no option...No one has any options...Everyone plan and everyone's plans go awry, yet no one learns and they keep following the bloody vicious circle.

"One day my life will slow down and I'll be in total control of it...I'll fucking attain nirvana, will be unaffected by everything...will be more indifferent then I'm today...more cynical...and who knows even figure out happiness"

He threw away the half finished cigarette.
Atleast now he could boast about something to the girl who loved him.
She would be so happy.

Yours Truly.

My photo
Like a true gemini i've got a multifaceted personality. can't write about each of them so one will have to discover through the layers