I wish I were mad....

Apparently, he'd moved to my street just a couple of days back... I had no clue, but I was strangely mesmerized and also creeped out to an extent...
I stopped on my way to the football ground to watch...
He lay on the sidewalk with his rustic, dirty, colourless large plastic bag with something bulky inside and he looked at the sky and laughed...
And then, he laughed some more...

A couple of passers-by called him mad in a voice that was louder than necessary and I cringed...

Was he really mad?
Or are we all?
To him, all of us would seem loony because he was just different. And like minded people would be able to relate to him...

So who was really mad?
Memories of Paulo Coelho's "Veronika Decides To Die" lashed my numb mind repeatedly...

He looked at least 60 years old if not older & he badly needed a shave, a bath & his teeth were probably a few years too late for an appointment with the dentist. But I don't think he actually cared...
Cared not about how many people had spit on the sidewalk where he lay...
Cared not about where he would seek shelter as the day drew to an end...
Cared not about who was standing, staring at him as if he were a specimen at a lab...

And to think of the number of people who would suffer a nervous breakdown if they were denied the luxury of being able to cut their toenails regularly...

The Pity:

I don't know who he was...
No one knew who he was...
And I'll bet nobody was willing to ask him who he was in fear that he may not know it himself...
And the prospect of not having an identity scared me. As materialistic as I could get at that point of time, I wondered how I'd be able to survive without an identity.

No credit card...
No vehicle...
No bank balance...
And the end of life as I knew it...

I still couldn't grasp the intensity of the concept. For example; He could be well smarter than anyone I know but nobody would be able to find that out but himself... And unfortunately he wouldn't be able to do that himself...
Incapability of self-discovery is no man's land...
A deserted place nobody would want to tread upon...

And very selfishly, I prayed that I never lose my mind...
And lie on dirty sidewalks one day staring at empty space and laughing...
And having people who think they're better than me laugh and smirk loudly...
And not caring about whether that dog across the road would chew on my foot if I dare slept a little...
And not pausing to think about the future...
I honestly did not want to be him...

Or did I?

The Envy:

His only belonging seemed to be that ragged plastic bag which he jealously clutched to himself...
I couldn't say I'd be happy to give up all my worldly belongings & live the life of an ascetic with bare minimums to survive... I wouldn't survive for an hour...
But everyone has this tiny fantasy about having to worry about nothing...

About what to have for breakfast the next morning...
Or whether he/she would call anytime soon...
Or where I'd be spending the night...
Or if it's going to rain anytime soon...
Or generally about what's happening in the world...

He was lost in his own precious time capsule.
I can't predict what he assumed of other people....
Maybe he thought people were all dead...
Maybe he thought we were all vegetables simmering in a soup...
I guess he would be able to converse better with an illiterate dog than another human being.

But I still envied him... For;
Not having a family, nor friends... A solitary life without a limit on time to do anything...
No responsibilities in life... No objective to accomplish...
Do whatever he wanted such as 'lying on the sidewalk and admiring the blue sky'...

And as I type this out, I feel incredibly guilty about having made up an entire synopsis of a man's life I have no clue about...
Not even to the extent whether he's happy or sad being himself...

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The clouds were pregnant for a few days...
The gallons of water mysteriously held up somewhere in the sky all came crashing down last night...

I hope he had moved to some place safe & warm & dry...

Untitled Poem

Caution: Some of the poetry might be graphic, so kids, if you're caught reading this, you're mom's gonna whoop your ass...


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He saw her late that night,
Coming out of the Opera,
Dressed in shimmering white,
And her glistening silver tiara.

His face slathered with spite,
Clouding in the grey,
In the rain from last night,
That forgot to fade away.

Devoured by his steely eyes,
From his dark secret perch,
A large trenchcoat covering lies,
A sinister angel in the lurch.

Crouching at momentary lapse,
Menacing steps and sweaty palms.
She looks to him and gasps!
And falls right into his arms.

They slink to a deep dark alley,
To do deep dark deeds,
She knows not her folly,
As she slowly bleeds.

Etiquette thrown unawares,
Gyrating without a pause,
A splatter of brown wet mud,
On her white dress that was.

His breath upon her skin warm,
Like fire against wind and water,
They made love through the storm,
She was the lamb led to the slaughter.

A final war cry of passion,
Clenched fingers clawing the skin,
It was over, it was done.
Her blood dribbled down his chin.

She lay on the wet ground,
Lifeless, not a moment too soon,
Mouth wide open without a sound,
Her face as pale as the moon.

He arose,
His skin frighteningly fair,
The streetlights flickered
In the deathly cold air...
Whistling without a tune,
The air he kissed.
He was soon nothing
But a silhouette in the mist...


- Arvind (13th September, 2006)

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Bike No More... & a part of me dies...

9 days from the date of my first accident....

A week after picking the bike up from service...

25th August...
While I enjoyed two delicious burgers by the beach in the dark,
Somewhere, 20 feet away,
Someone was trying hard to pry open the lock & wheel her away into the darkness...
He did!
For when I returned, she wasn't there where I'd left her...

My love... My bike... My dark beauty was gone!
I scoped the beach for a painful 30 minutes... Without avail...

I've registered a complaint with the cops...
Filed the insurance claims...
Asked everyone to look out for my bike...
& I guess all I can do is wait now...

Which is why I haven't been blogging... I haven't been doing anything at all actually...
Just in a state of depression/trauma...
Well, POST-depression actually... It's been enough time but I'm still holding on to hope...

So... I'm not in as bad a shape now as I was before...
& since I need to blog anyway, I'll tell you what all you need to do when your bike gets stolen coz nobody tells you what you're supposed to do!!

Firstly, find out which police station comes under the jurisdiction of the area where your bike was stolen...
For instance, my bike was stolen on Besant Nagar beach but the police station was 'shastri nagar police station'... Apparently the 'Besant Nagar P.S' is in Thiruvanmiyur!! :-S

Before you rush off to the crime branch & register complaints, check if the bike isn't already there in the cops' impound lot. (It'd be pretty stupid to waste hours on red-tapism if your bike's been wheeled away by the cops themselves)...

An on-duty cop will ask you to take him to the site of crime... & just remember one thing...
His bike will not allow you space to sit, but adjust all the same & do not worry about balance or speed... All these are attributed to the fact that the cop will be FAT! Also, don't pay heed to his grumbling as he tours the beach because he will blame YOU for having made him to resume duty...
He'll tell you stuff like, "You didn't lock it! I know it!" & you'll want to respond too... "If you know I didn't lock it, then how could you let it get stolen?"
But it's wise to just shut up...
Other interesting ideas he'd give you to keep your bike secure would be;
"You should take care of your property... Every 5 minutes, wherever you are, you must come & see if it's safe..." Yeah right!!
"Why can't you just take the bus & come to the beach? Then your bike will be safe! Making us do work n all.. Cha!"
IF I had to take a bus to get to wherever, WHY would I HAVE a bike in the first place?!?

The fact being it's past 10 at night, coupled with the fat cop's zero-enthusiasm will not produce fantastic results... & you'll be advised to come the next morning to file a complaint at the police station...

& so I did...
A sleepless night... A sleepless week...
The insurance company's formalities will be another long pointless story...

& my dad asked me... Slowly...
"IF... & I'm just saying 'IF', the bike isn't found, what else shall we get?"

:-/ ..... "I just want my bike back..."


& I do hope I get her back...
Till then, I'll keep looking out from the balcony at the spot my bike used to stand...
The forgotten, dust-gathering blue tarp...
& the keys I'll always keep in my pocket to never forget what it is that I really really want so bad......

I'm foregoing Baywatch & the beach coz I can't bear to go anywhere near there anymore... :(
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