Very few happy moments in my kitty..

Its been a long time since I last did something that made me happy. Guess life has become very hectic and I have lost count of the few happy moments I have spent during the past few months. The last time I was satisfied with my existence was when me and my friends spent some time with a couple of kids on the road.
This happened during one of our casual walks towards Marine drive. The three of us have the habit of hanging around after college hours, because we detest leaving each other and going home. Even if one of us is missing, the day seems so incomplete. Gosh, life would have been so scary without you guys!! MUUAAH!!. Yeah coming back to that day's escapade. The three of us spotted four kids of different sizes sitting on a pavement. They were untidy but cheerful. One look at them and the three of us knew what we wanted to do next. After talking to them for some time we realized that they were waiting for someone to feed them a few morsels of that blessed grain. They were hungry.
We bought them some Mishti Doi ( thats what they preferred, Talk about being choosy). And enquired about their parents. A small boy pointed towards a lady sitting under a tree with bunch of red, white and pink roses. I guess she was his mother. I went ahead and spoke to her, to my surpirse she handed me a red rose and my day was made. I seldom forget such gestures by unknown strangers who sometimes appear to be angels in disguise. There are times when your own boyfriend or girlfriend, mother or father, brother or sister are ready to just fuck your mind any moment people like her are there to balance it out!!
CHEERS!

Poems by Russell!

Russell a friend of mine has written a few good poems. I would like to share it with all of you. I keep sharing peices of work written by my friends under the label ' Guest writers'

Woodchop- Russell Mascarenhas


The rising sun over the snowy hills,
Mixed gracefully with the winter chills,
Gives every person to stare at awe,
At the wonderful things made by God.

Far from my house are these Red Wood trees,
Where furry creatures in the moonlight sleep,
Where lovers come and carve their names.
It reminds me of the good old days.

Like a peaceful haven on the mountain top,
The sparrows chirp and the ground is warmth.
My children at the moon doth stare.
In the shelter of the trees so bare

But alas, I am a woodcutter,
And I destroy gods beautiful things,
To feed my children and my wife,
Against getting heavenly wings.

A Grave Tale
- Russell Mascarenhas


With crumbled leaves underneath my feet,
I approach the house where the dead don’t sleep.
The hooting owl and the creaking gate,
may be the last sounds before my fate.

Lost in an illusion with haunting sounds,
Suddenly a hand emerges from the ground.
In my horror I turned and saw,
millions of zombies all around.

The mind tends to play funny tricks,
but this was worse than a horror flick,
a living nightmare I must say,
I must escape some other way.

Armed with guts and an axe in my hand
I cleared away the scum from this land.
Marching forward and taking swings,
I skillfully killed those horrid things.

And as they fell I took a bow,
and received applause from the crowd,
I smile to myself as I’ve done my duty,
the curtain closes, end of story.

City of joys and sorrows.....

Taking a break has become an alien activity for the people of Mumbai. Life is cenetered around a monotonous and never ending cycle of chores that leaves one with very little time to spend with ourselves. Life certainly is not a cake walk but yet things look very easy to achieve and acquire here. Probably that is the because of the 'never say never' attitude that people. Love, hate, betrayal, complassion, jealousy or any other emotion can be experienced in the span of a single day.

Our day starts with abusing the newspaper vendor for ringing the door bell too loud to abusing the errant kids in the building who make your life hell in the evening when all you want is a space with pin drop silence. Hurling abuses and walking ahead is the mantra that all of us seem to have understood very well. We have become workoholic sparrows, home to work and work to home. Life, though doesn't really look complicated but nonetheless it sometimes becomes like a living hell.

One has to fight for everything, right from a window seat to getting a passport made. No wonder we talk about Mumbai's fighting spirit, ( pun intended). I am not trying to demean the place I call my home but just reminding you of the changing times. I totally agree that I have bever seen a city as vibrant and colourful as Mumbai, yet there are time when I long to get away, without a doubt I long to get back as soon as possible. This city is like a sweet bitter truth. One cannot ignore the goodness of it but at the same time one cannot move away from adversities.

RUNAWAY!

I looked at the clock twice, it was some kind of reassurance of the fact that its was the right time. It was twelve and I very well knew Mom was snoring away to glory in the adjacent room. My bags were packed because I was preparing myself for the past three days. Two failed attempts per day , that makes it six...ummm not bad, will help me write a manual on running away from home.

I am tired of the scrutiny and nagging that happens around me all the time. I am 21, a successful media executive, travelled almost half the world, but I am still treated like a kid at home. I need ma own space and my own rules. I know I am giving all these explanations to move away from this shithole.

I feel flustered and claustrophobic. The house I grew up in suddenly seems to eating me up. I see horrible images moving around, maybe because I have developed a particular kind of hate for this place. The people living here make me all the more depressed and that includes my mother and her Lesbian partner, who are up on my ass everyday.

Jane moved in right after my father ran away with our maid. I know sounds like a scene straight out of a movie. My mother seems to have taken settling down with Jane a bit too seriously. I have no qualms about her sexual orientation, but she can definitly find a better woman to spend her life with. Jane is a bitch.......

How does that matter anyway?....Its almost 12.30 now...guess Geroge should be well on his way...WHOOOOSSSHHHHH!

noone to see
noone to believe.
life is like an empty circus
the merry go round
with all the colours around
whirls against the hollow air.....
Up you see the smoke rise,
my dead ashes in the air.