First of all. BOOZE.
Feels great. Guess why?
I rushed to Rishi’s room – “Bro, I broke my virginity.”
Shitty thing. Looks funny indeed for a guy to speak like that to another guy.
“Oh u finally did???”
“Ya yaar. U know what. It was last night. & I am very happy now.”
“Yeah u do seem like that. So when did u drink? Cause its looking like you are still in hangover.”
“No yaar. I am fine now.”
“But your eyes are red…”
“Cause I just took bath.”
“Hmm. Looks great. So what? I broke mine 2 years before you did.”
“Yeah I remember that bong party at RGP by Arijit sir.”
“But you definitely had to. The only thing is that you are late.”
“Nope. I promised my mom to never touch wine & other stuffs.”
“But now you have broken the promise.”
“Yeah. & I am very excited.”
“I broke it before twenty. You did it after twenty. So you are the looser.”
Hope you have got it all. ‘Breaking virginity’ is for breaking the restriction to touch alcohol stuffs. Not about the girlish thing about virginity. The term was used by Arijit sir & Arup sir, when they brought a McDowell’s No.1, thinking that we all will drink & I didn’t. They simply shouted at me – “You are still a virgin???” But I was still very happy that was the dear good boy of my beloved mother who is firm on his promises made to his mom.
It all finished last night, at nagpur. It was Mohit’s party. & he took us, three of us, Amit Kawalkar& myself, to a pub. I just said “no, I won’t drink.” But somehow, the feeling was to break all barriers & I wanted to get drunk like Jack Sparrow or Austin. The bartenders & bouncers were roaming here & there. & the music was at its peak. We were welcomed with the song – Apni To Aise Taise, from Housefull. I was rocked by the bass of the dj. It was simply amazing. Then came in my favorite tracks – Shakira’s Waka Waka, Justin Bieber’s Baby Baby, Akon, David Guetta & the hindi tracks, all remixed. I just wanted to pour in. In all, it was a great way to, to ‘break virginity’, by opening with a breezer first, followed by a whisky & then a vodka. & I was dancing. Kawalkar walked upto me with his glass in his hand - “lagta hai tujhe sahi me chadh gayi hai.” I just smiled back, nodded my head & back to wild stupid dance of mine.
Well. Frankly. I know not what it is to be drunk. But I still fear it. As I always feared it. & that night. Maybe it was much diluted. But I drank it. & I my head felt heavy alongwith my eyes. And I loved to dance for two hours in the lovely beats.
Next morning, we all woke up. Ran straightway to watch Step Up 3D. & what a movie it was. Totally mind blowing. Never thought hip hop dances could look that good in 3D.
The lovely unforgettable dramas are there in Mohit’s car – Indigo DLS, blue one. It was in this car that we drove off to Pench, national park near nagpur, around 80 kms from the city. The plans are always made all of a sudden. Like what they say – just pick up the vehicle, drive off to somewhere, will see after that where to go.
My ideas are a bit different, always planning everything with pen & pencil, before finally setting out. Accompanied to all these trips are the human relations between we people at the hostel. Never to give company to any hostile entity. If possible, then give them a tough clash. & to strengthen up the bonds with the existing people you have around at that very moment. But who knows the future. Relationships don’t take time to break. Neither to make a good nasty one also. Whatever the outcome is. The purpose simply is to create something you can always cherish upon in future. For instance talk about the very recent trip. I go out with Mohit. Something Steve won’t believe even on seeing us together. But we together took the bull by its horns, at the fight with some stranger while capturing the bus seats. & Mohit calls me for his birthday bash at nagpur. He was quite selective in choosing out the friends for this bash.
Few days back, call it one week back, I was onto another trip & that one was with Shridhar & rest. Just a bike trip into the unknown green fields, which turned dark with the evening rainy clouds. That time we were still discussing, as we always were doing, misgivings for this Mohit. We made him the Shoaib Khan of our group, the apparent kingmaker, who goes greedy for being himself the king, from the movie Once Upon A Time In Mumbai, portrayed by Emraan Hashmi. The things were going on my 2nd wave of friendship, until, Ankush breaks my door latch, I break his mobile, he come down crying for money, his poor money, crying that he cost me 10 rupees latch & I cost him 16,000 rupees mobile. I tell – go enjoy with my shuffle. I buy another one next day from nagpur. Probably I-ball is looking better than Apple. He reminded me of the scene from the movie 3 Idiots, where Aamir Khan calls Kareena’s financer ‘a price tag machine’, Aamir spills sauce over the guy’s shoe & he cries for the price of the shoe.
All about my brawls at college. Well I never had any. Frankly. I may have got into brawl a couple of times, but I never hurt anyone. Cause I always came out of the brawl saying – cool down, cool down. Everytime I walk into some brawl, the adrenaline level just shoots up, making my muscles tighten up, still I try to pretend with smile on face, saying – this isn’t going good. Again reminds me of Abhinav, my best buddy at school.
I, staring at the other guy, heating up myself - “what if I break down on him?”
Abhinav – “well, I am not sure about the other fellow, but one thing I am sure of about you is that you will land straight into jail. So pacify yourself. Better be a student than a murderer.”
No guy ever wants to mark himself as a looser, when it come to brawl.
Ankita tells me – “you guys always fight.”
I say – “why not? Guys are born to fight. Just the way girls are born to sit in beauty parlour or kitchen.”
The last time I fought. Yeah. That’s right. Mark my pretty words. Last time ‘I fought’. Because after that, I may have got into many fights, but practically I never fought. Except for one time, when I gave my dear friend Navneet a Pilestone Drive, the one Undertaker delivers as his finishing move. Poor guy felt giddy after that. But I picked him up, reconciliated with him saying – “come one, blow your best shot on me & finish your anger. My fault that I fought with my good friend.”
So, the last time I fought, was in Kota, 12th std. My father brings me a room partner, whom I don’t like. & the very next day after our parents leave. I just leave him with a bleeding nose. The guy was lying down totally breathless. & my land lord kicks me out of his apartment, sending me to find another room. Reminds me of my school days. Guys? Even girls too. I didn’t even spare them even. I broke one girl’s teeth. Two guy’s teeth. Face injuries, uncountable. Other injuries, too many. & yeah head injury. How can I ever forget that one. It was when I was 5 years old. I slammed the slateboard on the other guy’s head, leaving him bleeding with a crack.
One thing is sure. The outcome from this brawls may emblem you as the ultimate fighter, but what follows after that is never good. The first bad thing is that you become notorious. Mark my words again. Its ‘notorious’ & not ‘famous’. Like what the people try to picture you as, making you the scape goat, or a hired bouncer for the next fight, where they oil you & push you into the arena, where they get a show a watch.
The second thing are the complaints about you. & that is borne by your poor guardians. & I don’t have any lunatic Haryana Punjabi type of guardians, who feel proud that their son has done an awful thing. Being from a Bengali background makes you Swami Vivekananda by blood. Something we call that as ‘Babu moshai’. The picture defines itself. A fair guy, with wet combed hairs, bit resembling the Elvis Presley hair style, but shorter than that, wearing kurta pajamas, white colored mostly, carrying a book in hand, talking about literature & classical music, filled with art & philosophy from head to heels. & when it comes to fights, he runs away like hell. & not that he can run nicely also. Cause his mind is overweighed with knowledge, his belly is loaded with tons of fish he ate. & his heart is only good for appreciating beauty of something, like Rabindranath Tagore.
& the other kind of guys. Call them the Punjabi ones. Nowadays we say that in Punjab, you do only two things.
1. You train yourself physically.
2. You release a music album of your own.
Still hats off to them. They are the ones who fight for our country. The Indian Army is made by them only. Just make sure the clock doesn’t hit 12. & they are true by heart. Not like the duffy dumber rajasthani U.P or bihari bastards, who carry their brains at their knees. & when I am criticizing everyone, why am I leaving the south ones. the southern states. I haven’t interacted any of them to really talk much about them. Still. As far as what I picture them as is like an ugly Dravidian orthodox, sitting &. &. &. & doing shit. Yeah. Whatever they do is shit. They make political parties of their own, movies of their own. & they pose themselves as great. Which actually they are not. Shrunk upto their own regional believes. So what. That’s what every region does. Why blame them alone. The equatorial climate made them black, sweaty. & the other ones, who are neither victimized by equatorial climate nor the typical north Indian good-for-nothing hooligan mentality, they form groups like Shiv Sena, & dance, that they really did something. Wow.
This is all a part of BUZZ. & that is what we hear in India. Like when a swarm of bees come nearby your ears. Its when a group over populated, over educated, people, call it Indian population wakes up every morning, & then this is all you get to hear all day long, till they all go back to sleep again.
Back. Back. Back. Where was I? I wanted write about my trips. & where did I get diverted? I started with Booze, to Mohit, to brawls, to Indian states. Stupid. But this made blog look interesting. Again. After some cold topics like Midnight Blog, Lonesome Clouds, My Love. But you don’t dare call them cold. Cause they are close to my heart. So lets give a happy ending to my BRAWLS part.
My grandfather, before I was leaving for Kota, said his jewel words- “grandson, I know whatever you will do will be good. You can never get spoiled. So I don’t really need to worry about you. Except for one thing. Your mom has made you strong enough. But
control your physical strength. That’s not an advice from me. That’s what I am telling you to do. & you will have to. No matter what your opponent does. No matter what happens. You will never raise your hands on anyone. Anything goes wrong, just walk out of the scenario. But don’t fight. Keep your ideas upto yourself. No need to fight for them.”
Looks like the dialogues of Djimon Hounsou, from the movie Never Back Down – “No matter what. No matter how. No fighting outside the gym.”
“Everyone gets into fights at some or the other points of their lives.”
“This place is where young angry bloods come to fire their emotions. Some call this place gym. I am the owner of this gym.”
Move on to my trips. My first trip was to Agra. Arjun invites me to his sister’s marriage. At that time, there were bomb blasts at Delhi. So parents didn’t allow me. Yet I went there. The funniest part was in the hotel, afternoon time, my dad’s phone call woke me up-
“how are you doing? You are sleeping now?”
“am fine. Just came back from college. Felt sleepy.”
“college? Today is Sunday…”
Oops. That’s how I get caught while lying to my parents.
Second trip was to Shridi & Nashik. That was fantastic. With some fanatic friends. Total pieces of misers. They neither booked train tickets, traveled in general, nor stayed in hotel, if also, they searched for the cheapest one in nashik, & while doing so, we entered red light area,. That was one hell of an experience. First we saw something like that. Though we didn’t do anything over there.
The auto-rickshaw driver kept shouting at us – “I am not letting you here. Its illegal. We must find some other place.”
Forgive our damn innocence.
One thing I learnt from these two trips is to choose a proper group for traveling. At Agra I felt the problem of being with a bunch of drunkards. They used to get so drunk late nights, & we missed Fatehpur Sikri, just because they won’t get up early.
Third trip was to Chikaldhara, a hill station nearby. We traveled by bikes. 4 bikes. 8 people. 200kms distance. On our returning way, we came down through the jungles of Melghat division, the tiger reserve. That made our returning distance 270kms. Though the jungle was quite dense, there weren’t any signs of any tiger. Even the forest officials slumbered – “we aren’t sure if tigers are here or migrated somewhere else.” The night was great. Cards. & the Amravati highway. We were racing at 110kmph. Eyes got teary literally.
Next trip was of Pench. Plan was made all of a sudden. Mohit was the driver of the car. So he was to decide which way to go. It was noon time & we set out for Ramteke, a temple on the city outskirts. On reaching there, we decided not to return home & move forwards to Pench. We didn’t carry any extra clothes or any articles. Neither did we have money. Somehow we searched an ATM. & I was the one bearing the monetary load of everyone, till the time we reached back hostel. So my account was totally done. It got dark when we reached Pench. The feeling was like the movie Kaal. But it was Corbett National Park in it, which is better than Pench. We enjoyed the night stay. Morning. Chilling cold. & we had no warm clothes. Everyone was in t-shirts & jeans jackets. Our jaws were shuddering. We secretly carried the hotel blankets provided to us & then sat in the gypsy. All we were praying for was to catch a glimpse of the tiger. We were welcomed by a fox, which was close to the gate only. Then we got excited to see spotted-deers & bisons. & then for the next 4 hours we got pissed of watching the same deer & bison. The whole jungle was filled with them only. The guide gave nice figures, 21 tigers, 18 leopards, 35 bears, innumerable snakes, even python also. But it didn’t seem that the jungle really was having any single of them. Every now & then the guide pointed at birds. What the hell. What to do with birds. I wanted to see some action. Some real furious animal. Then we reached the green fields. Finally got the permission to step out from gypsy. & there got elephants. The whole wild field was glowing with morning sunlight. Everyone was thinking the tiger may come to warm up in the sunlight in the winters. Or it may come to drink from the river. But no. Yeah! We did find many paw marks of the tiger. But no signs of the animal. The whole jungle seemed like it really speaks to its inhabitants. The alarm calls. Every sound delivers a message. The jungle provides a warm shelter to the creatures which stay in it. I think it is the jungle only which decides who is to die when & where. Your vision actually fails in such a dense forest. Cause you can’t really look far because of the greenery around you. Its your senses which has feel of danger as well as the prey around you. All it needs is your silence. Just sit & listen. Cats & dogs do smell. The tree dwellers convey all the messages. The communication between the animals was something really worth appreciable. How the birds & monkeys made the deers & bisons aware. The foxes & wolves looked really free of tension. The vulnerable groups always had to be in caution. Cause the tiger attacks like that only. It silently waits & watches for the right opportunity. & then with one blow, it finished everything. Its one meal satisfies it for few days, after which it comes back into action.
I guess the tiger knows it very well that the people all over the world visit such sanctuaries just get the glimpse of tiger only. So the tiger is the one & only show stopper of the jungle show. There is a huge difference in watching these animals in a zoo & in such wilderness. The wildlife blooms in its actual habitat. I think zoos should be closed down, looking at the shrinking population of the wild animals. We managed to view a tiger at Pench, which we saw from the elephant’s back. The tiger was sleeping. I think it was just another rotten technique of the forest officials to tranquilize the animal for a show, from which they were earning a lot. Pench does have a big area & diversity too in its animals. On my every trip to Chindwara, which lies nearby the Pench river, I have spotted wolves on the road itself.
Tigers are getting extinct from the famous tiger reserves & moving to unexpected places. The place nearby Wardha, Chandrapur, presents a lot of such incidences. Every 2nd day, we get to read in newspapers that some big cat killed a person after entering the house. Similarly we keep listening to angry villagers killing & searching for big cat. Now the big cat is tiger or leopard or panther or puma or cheetah, that hardly matters. Panther, puma & cheetah are no more there in India. If a leopard is killed, that’s definitely for its skin, & not for safety or vengeance reasons of fucking villagers. If a tiger is killed, that can be for its teeth, may be for its skin, or even for some Chinese medicine. The king of the forest, the Lion sits at Gir Gujarat. I guess that’s the only place in India. & as far white tigers are concerned, I don’t know. I saw a white tiger at Puri. After few months, I heard it died of some mishap. The tiger at Pench reminded me a lot of the Royal Bengal Tigers. Surely feeding on fishes, & not on deers, made them reddish healthy like Bengalis. Every 2nd day at Kolkata, we too get news of people killed at Sunderbans. But there the killer is not the tiger alone, the crocodile also has its share. Looks like the tigers & crocodiles are having a competition on who can eliminate how many humans. Ofcourse Bengal has the most dense human population. The tiger & croc at Bengal are dignified with the holy tag – The Widowmaker. Before this, the one & only widowmaker known was the famous Russian submarine K 19, owing to its great capability to blow off big ships & other submarines in war. I want to visit Sunderbans. Half of the tracking is done in gypsy & other half in boat, through the innumerable small & big canals formed by Ganga delta, just like the Amazon delta, although it’s a bigger & diverse one, the home of the famous Anaconda. My father has spotted enough animals. While his stay in Narmadapur, a hill station near the Chattishgarh Bihar border, he was chased by a big bear, which came out all of a sudden through the sugarcane field. On the way to Shahdol, midway in the jungles of Mandla, the Maikal ranges, my uncles & father say they used to spot tiger, from the train only. It used to come to drink water in a lake nearby the rail track. Now that jungle hardly has any tigers left. There aren’t any tigers reserve or parks around Amarkantak, from where Narmada & Sone river arise. But when we went there, I was 7 years old, we heard the tiger growling. That locals said that tiger does come out of the jungle often. Few years later I read in newspapers, tiger being killed by villagers of same area. Now the whole big area of Mandla forests & Maikal ranges, hardly believes that any tiger can ever possibly be there. A sad story indeed. The tigers shown in Kaal, all three of them, were the same ones as in the Gladiator.
Whatever. I was supposed to talk about my trips. As usual, I am dreaming of a visit to Goa with college friends. But looking at our untimely exams, study load, permission from parents & the condition of human relations in my batch, I think its better not to expect of being able to make such a trip. Funny enough.
& BASS. Bass was there in the pub on the Friday night at Nagpur. I hope to pay another visit to such a place, but not soon. Wish to get some good girls out there. Right now playing the new song I got, from Finger Eleven, Paralyzer. Bass. My Altec Lansing speakers are doing a good job.