Year End.

"Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow."

- Albert Einstein

"That is why we fight - in hope of a day when we no longer need to."

-Barack Obama

Another year is about to come to an end. And will this day be any different. This should be. But lets don't jump into the party mood and get on the dance floor, get drunk and get a huge hangover on the first day of the year. Well, I don't drink also, so that narrows down. And also there are no much dance floors vacant either. So that narrows even further. So, umm... what's left? Nothing, right! Exactly. 

You know they say the life flashes before our eyes before we die! Okay, I am not going to die today, but we can force out thoughts to ponder about the year that just passed by and how different I am today compared to this day last year. Yeah, so I did force my thoughts to think about something amazing that just might make my day. I tried. When I mention about trying, you should also get the idea that there are no such things. Doesn't it look like I am forcing myself to think about something, something amazing, something equally awesome that never happened and wished to happen. But alas! I am left with a empty page and a dripping pen. 

I don't make resolutions because I know I am the worst at following anything. So, if I say I want to go on a diet ( which is like suicide, come on whom am I kidding? Phew! Me dieting?  ) , I would eat even more. Okay, that was a wrong example. Umm, lets talk about swearing! Not even one word was my target, though it wasn't a new year resolution, but still something I had thought of "NOT DOING". You hear me, not-doing! It is like a thing I should really do, no matter what, no matter how small the issue is. So yeah, you get the story here , right ? Keeping that in mind, I have decided to make the exact opposite of resolutions, if I make any! 

Twenty-13

Since I forced myself to think about the year, I don't remember much of the things. But let me jot down some of the normal things that aren't quite normal in my life. 

1. I got  into a project. Though there was too much drama in the beginning and even in the end, but still I could tell that this is the year, I actually started working.
2. I got to make a few good friends as the year drew to its near. And the cycle of life works in mysterious ways, as we know it. So, when something really good happens, the life just have to kick in the ass and as they say give lemons. Okay, that sounds gross when I write it like that. The point here is that those few friends that I made are leaving, left the project. So, you see. LIFE! 
3. I spent a hell lot of money and when I say spent, I mean wasted. 
4. Thats' it ? WTH ! Seriously, is anyone going to kill me? 

Twenty - 14 ! 

I don't have much hopes for the year to come. Because I never understood what I would do differently. May be that is the reason, I am still stuck in this small world and not exploring. They say hope and passion drive the people's mind. Wait, did anyone say that! I just made it up! So when you ask Dude, what are your plans for next year? I reply with a Poker-face! So, don't ask me please. I really don't make plans for the future. Yes, I know I am weird and stupid; and also nothing is going to change that. Anyway, let me end this with a poem which I have been posting on every 31st December, that is the last day of the year.

"

Past has taught Lessons.

Memories have brought Happiness.

  Time has taught Living.

Mistakes have brought Wisdom. 

Now, New is the Year.

 New are the Aspirations and Dreams. 

 Behold the Newness.

 Step forward, Step Ahead.

 Here it comes, yet another Glorious Year. 

Welcome it. 

With a Smile on your Face.

And Hope in the Heart. 

Cherish the Past.  

Replenish the Future. 

And Never Forget,

Live the Moment.  

"

Okay, I agree, this is not a poem, in any angle. My apologies. But let me conclude with this.

"Wish you and your family a Happy and Prosperous New Year."

Life is short, just like 70-80 year. And remember I said something about the memories flashing before he eyes before we die, please do make sure that they aren't as vacant as mine. #JustSaying. 

No Title Post.

I really don't feel so good. Whenever I am travelling or sitting at office staring at the computer, I get some brilliant ideas and I make a mental note of that to write about it no matter what. I think about the whole script on my way back to my room where I have to walk like 200 feet. The music keeps playing, but I am numb to it as my mind is busy with its dwindling. And then again I don't think about it much. You see, I am kind of a superstitious as well. Let me clear the air about it. I have a feeling that when I get those great thoughts, I get in a flow, at a time. So, I just keep thinking about the topic or the starting lines. Frankly speaking I have had such experiences when I think of the whole script in my mind and then when it comes to writing, I don't get a word. So, the past couple of years, I have made it a point not to think much about the thought, as in the connections and intermingling; and just let that build up when I put it on paper or the written word. Am I confusing you? I guess I am. 

At the beginning of the month, I had received an awesome guest post by an equally awesome writer. It was a story and it was a damn good story. So, I told about it to a couple of friends and my cousin sister. When I said about the ending, that she would love it, she sat down and read the whole thing. And believe me, she is not the reading type. Because whenever I tell her to read my blog, she gives a big sigh and calls herself English-illiterate. God, did anyone look at me, my writing? What should I be called then? Since I gave a clue about the ending, and her zeal and excitement to tease me compelled her to continue reading it. But as most people kill the suspense by reading the last chapter or pages of the book, she did the same thing. And yeah like other she read the whole story as well. 

My point about that asking her and the others to read the story was to point about the detail of a character ( read : me ), a complete stranger ( umm, she would kill me if I said that. Lets say a writer and reader who has been reading my crappy posts for over a year and still doing that. And also let me add, studied me. Or is it that I gave more hints and clues about me than I know. Whatever! you get the gist , right? ) . So, the point I was referring to was about the character detail that a reader could grasp just from the writings. May be I have given more clues about me than I know or not, but everybody just can't read other people that easily. Believe me, my friends don't even know half of me even though I hang out with them almost the whole day. See, it is an art. 

Though, my sister appreciated the writer and sent praises as well, but she also kept the last part to keep teasing me. That teasing thing is mutual. She is about to get married and I tease her about that. So, she is reciprocating that. Of course she would. I have been teasing her for like a year now. You could imagine how much balance (read : revenge per se :P ) that is still left. 

So, I wanted my friends also to read the character (me) detail which I was referring to earlier. Even they too said they are English-illiterate and also that they need a dictionary to read my blog! I was like, WHAT ? You were referring to my blog, right? Mine is like th simplest language ever. Even the third grade kid would laugh at me. ( Now, you don't have to laugh ). And when they said about the dictionary, I was rendered speechless, like umm, whaaa.. ?! Even then, I forced  a guy to read that by sitting just beside him. He read exactly half and then got back to his work and then forgot about it altogether. I am kind of a little relieved about that now. I will get to that why part.

The WhatsApp Group

Recently we created a group in WhatsApp. Okay, I am guessing everybody knows what this is right? Umm.. If you don't kindly open a tab and search for it. Its the least you could do. Thanks. This group has only six members as of now. But that's sufficient. It has only been two week since we created it, but most part of the time we are busy. We here means I myself alone. I am group admin, so I have to be. #JustSaying. No, its' not like that actually. I just respond to whenever there's a ping or message from the fellow members. There is no motto for this group. But what we do the whole day is tease others about the imaginary girlfriends and the crushes. The single people's idiocy. So, you see why I am glad that my friend didn't complete the story. 

The other day when we were discussing about the crushes, I had woven a nice convincing story. Thanks to my writing and imaginative skills. *Self Praise* *Pats myself*. I just created another crush. 

The Coincidence. 

Two weeks back we went to a Go-karting. It was awesome, to speak about it. As we were hungry we went to Dominos. We ordered a few pizzas and sides. And then as we were waiting one of the guy started the topic discuss about crushes and the stuff like that. Some of the other members didn't know about his side of the story. As he mentioned his side of the story, one of the girl from his story just entered the Dominos. Now, imagine that. He was just speaking about her and she comes and sits at he adjacent table facing us. From that day, he is completely booked. There is another story related to this guy, which I will probably tell in the coming posts.

P.S. I am still fighting with the writer's block. When I started writing this, I opened the New Post almost ten time. I wrote one line and just stared at it. I was not able to write a word after it. I tried my best. But then, I just wrote this another crappy post. umm.. 

Year End.

The sun heaved a heavy breath of cold wind that brushed through my face. It was warm, yet not warm enough. It is still cold. The year is about to end, like it always does. And people would be busy with their new year plans and preparing themselves for the next coming year. So, I wish you all a Happy and Prosperous New Year. 

Lets jump back to reality, I tell myself. A year has passed and I ask myself What have I done this year, that is different than any other year? And I continue my questions, What will the next year be like? And what will be you resolutions? 

Believe me, resolutions don't work for me. I have been doing that as far as my memory goes back. My dad would ask me to write a few and follow them, when I was a kid. Then I made a few as I started growing up. Then I continued making those resolutions. And lets get something straight here. No matter how many years I have been making and preparing myself for the resolutions, I have never followed them. As a matter of fact, I don't even remember what those resolutions are after the first week of January. To add to that, I even forget that I really made a few resolutions of my own. 

So, this time I am not making any resolutions. Seriously, I won't. If I followed even one of them, I would have made and believe me it would be the biggest list ever. 

P.S. Before I end this, I am still fighting the writer's block. So, I am posting crappy posts these days. Despite the fact that I wanted to post two hundred posts this year, I am still lagging behind by a ton and hell lot of laziness. I am trying to wake myself up and get back to the writing, but I guess I am just failing at it every single time. My apologies for this absurd post. I will try to write better next time.

Waking up.

I am not usually a morning person. Really, I am not. People reading my blog know that. So, the past could of weeks I have been able to make these comic strips, based on my situation called - Insomnia. 

And finally the last but not the least and also the instant waking machine...

Besides all this, these days I have been sleeping early. I mean like at 1am or 2 am. I think someone has cursed me to sleep early. Phew! Who's that? Who would do such a heinous thing? 

P.S. : Created using BitStrips app for Facebook and Android Phone. 

Cold Morning.

- A Page from my Diary 

As  I opened my eyes to the hazy sunlight that smeared through the rough tainted windows glass, I was having an urge to continue my sleep a little longer. It's cold outside and believe me, its' cold inside as well. But the warmth and the cozy bed and the fact I covered myself in layers and layers of blankets protected me from the cold winter night. 

I had to wake up. Because I got to get ready for office. It was then I realized, that the water heater in the room wasn't working. I was like what-the-hell, lets do it. I am strong enough to withstand a little cold water. I "MAN-UP" and prepare myself to do the worst mistake ever. I also tell myself that the water isn't that cold either, it is just my feeling of winter that's making me believe that its cold. I stood staring at the water from the shower as it gushed out the freaking cold water. I just stared. And stared. And stared. I reassured myself that it won't be cold. I was like making myself believe that the cold water was actually hot water and just that it was my feeling that it would be freezing cold. I was like meditating, you could say , and preparing myself.

There was a knock on the door as I was still staring at the gushing water from the shower. There were other people who were also in the need of the bathroom. So, that was it , I said to myself. I put my hand in the cold stream of water that flowed. It was like -100 deg. Celsius cold. With too much over-action, I finally jumped into the cold stream. I realized that made the gravest mistake of all. I couldn't move my hands. I was freezing. It was that cold. I managed somehow and got freshened up in a 10 sec time period. That fast. This was yesterday. Today, I decided not to do that feat anymore, or ever again. 

Contrary to what I did. 

Random Rambling.

The Ordinary versus the Not-So-Ordinary

We live in a world where we believe in something and again, we discard it. Like say when we say that we believe in God and then again discard the notion of anything Supernatural. We still believe in God, but when it comes to discuss about the not-so-ordinary things just like magic or whatever, we form two teams and discuss. I had a crazy though the other day. I was reading about the Nobel prizes and the field of expertise and then it struck me, when people believe that God is the creator of all humans are his creation, and when it comes to awarding no one gives God the credit for creating such an amazing human being, if God has really created humans.

I don't want to get into the details of this ordinary and extraordinary principles of life, because I got my own things up in my head. Imagination.  Have you ever felt that after something has happened, we sit or sleep in our bed and imagine how things could have been different. The past, that's what I am talking about. I do that all the time. Or the future how we could change it. But the difference is that in those surreal world, I am an extraordinary person trying to save the day, every single time. Take it anything, I am a super hero there. 

Not only I am a superhero, I am an extremely awesome person. Imagination! I try to understand the phenomenon of this varied thoughts that hinder my mind after everything that has happened. There is this world  that is too good to be true. Come on, I am a super hero for god's sake over there. Even god in the real world won't be able to do what I do in the imaginative world of mine. 

I laugh at myself. Because, later it is just me at the end of the day and I really didn't do anything. It is just plain imagination and how to make myself more famous. 

Silence.

 A little thought dwindled as I slowly made my last stand at the end of the day. Now its gone. Its just silence. Radio Silence. I broke the essence of this obscurity with  glass shattering loud music in my ears. I felt relieved. I still didn't. It was a while when I realized that I was still in the silent-zone which has magically formed around of me. What was that? Why was this happening? I wish I had any clue. 

The music was loud enough for the person sitting in the next block could also hear and hum the lyrics. I still couldn't. I wasn't here. I was entrapped in a world apart. I wish I knew where I was. As the people around me started moving in slow motion like in the movies, I felt I was dreaming. But I wasn't. It was just my mind playing tricks, or may be not. I was still in the dilemma, a confusion which was getting fuzzy with each passing moment. 

I settled in. I took the depth of the detail around me. Then it struck me, I was home. This is my place. This is where I live. It was lonely. I shouted at times. But it was still silent on the outside. I shouted even harder, and more louder. It was still silent outside. There is a war inside, inside of my mind. A raging, blood shedding war. But a pin drop silence on the outside. What was this? I had no idea. The war, that war, never ended. It is still a battle ground. 

I tried to escape the obscurity and break those walls in which I am trapped. I wanted silence more than anything else. I was tired of this shouting, the shouting which doesn't bring any help. I wanted peace, a little silence. But I am entrapped in a world where silence has no place and on the outside its as silent as the depth of an ocean. 

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Dream.

As I step into the reality, I feel I have lost a lifetime. I pause. I take it in. I take the surroundings in. I take every detail in. Why am I doing this? What is its purpose? I have no idea. I just know that this "reality" is too good to be true. If it isn't I want to remember this, for ever. I sink in the detail and the splendidness of what surrounds me. You want to know, don't you? I wish I could explain, I wish I could put words to the sheer awesomeness, I just wish I could make this a ever lasting memory. 

I pause again. I try to stop the train of thoughts that rush my mind, urging to come out in the form of writings or verbal articulation. But alas, I could do neither. Its' distracting. As the amount of thoughts that try to explain the surreal existence is just too much to figure out what is what and which is which. I sound confusing, don't I. I could reciprocate your feeling, but only if you reciprocate what I am seeing, I am sure you would feel the same. 

The time ticked off. It has been a lifetime, not really. But it does feel like a lifetime. I see myself aged, but not. That's how long you could stand and divulge in the beauty. That's how long anyone would accompany me. What is it, you ask? You enthusiasm is killing you, is it not? What is it that I am profoundly speaking of? If I could put it in a simple term, I could call it a "Dream".  

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This post is written for Write Tribe's Festival of words 2 Day-7 prompt 'Dream' as a part of "The Write Tribe Festival of Words 8th – 14th December 2013".

Revamp.

So, the other day when I mentioned about the writer's block and my inability to write, I was actually surprised when a few people responded to it. This gives me assurance that, yeah, I can continue bragging about everything that I usually do. And also one of the blogger even mentioned that I should be myself when it comes to writing. I must warn you, I am not as good of a writer which people expect me to be. I will get back to this later. Another clarification that I wanted to make was that I actually meant that I really don't care about the page count. I don't know how I missed the "don't" word. 

Before continuing with anything, I must welcome two new followers ME-er who blogs at Me-ing and Enchantress who blogs at The Enchantness. Both have got amazing blogs and both are great writers. Do check their blog if you get time. Or better skip my blog and head over there. Anyway, this is just a collection of my rambling and cries. 

1. A day before yesterday we had a training session on some technology. So we had to go as there was no choice escaping it because there was no one present in the training session and they escalated this to our manager. We had no idea that there was a training session in the first place. This unexpected session was attended by a few people which happened to the one fourth of the total registered people. So, as there was shortage of notepads, I handed my "notebook" which I usually use for writing down poems and stuff like that just to keep me at bay and avoiding the forgetful nature of mine. After the session he was like, "You are so predictable". I was confused and asked him , "What! Why do you say so? " He points at a few of my draft-poems and reads it and says, "You pick us a word and form a sentence". I was like "WHATTT" and then I showed him those Haiku. He came back with the same response. I didn't know what to say to that. This guy, Ajay is so stupid. Now lets make one thing clear here. He isn't a poet, neither am I. And also none of us here are trying to write a mystery novel contracted in the form of a poem. So, when I inspire him to write a poem, it's just plain English, not an Indiana Jones treasure hunt. I was shouting at him to tell this. He simply just ignores my wisdom. And yeah, I am back. Hi all.

2. People who said they adore me. Thank You. Thank you so much. Dude, dude, dude. You look cute trying to jump on to the cloud nine. Not so fast. Hold your horses. They meant about your, I mean my writing style and that too the good part. You always mess up the good part of the writing with your cries and stuff like that. In short, what people ( blog readers ) are trying to say is that they adore me, not you. Got it! 

3. We are having a cricket tournament these days, between different project groups within our office. The first match was a drag. We didn't score well and then there was me, trying to be an ace bowler gave the maximum number of runs of which a majority were the extras. I wasn't in the form, I guess. I think I am never in form. Sometime some crap happens and the opponent doesn't some mistake and I get lucky in taking his wicket. With that confidence the captain of my team was hoping that I would take some wickets and contain the score. And the opposite happened. Eventually we lost. The problem wasn't that. There is a manager from my account, though I don't have to report to him, he played the match. First of all, our score was the least, the minimal score anyone can ever score. And then this retarded-guy-manager blames me for losing the match. He claims himself to be a batsman and didn't score a run. I don't really mind him as everyone in the project account knows that he is an asshole of the highest priority. Believe me, there isn't a single person who likes him. We can imagine a manager to be stupid and wicked, but this levels will not be seen anywhere. Take my word when I say anyone would feel like kicking his ass, any day, anytime. So, this retarded person was commenting on me, I didn't give a shit. One time, fine. Second time, fine. Third time, fine. And if this continues one more time, he will have it coming. I am serious. I will beat the shit out of him. I don't care about the consequences. 

4. Last week AK went on a trip. It was like a team outing, but not exactly. You can call it just an outing. There were three places that these guys visited. Out of which two were a total waste. The only thing that was cool about the trip was the waterfalls, where they spent a hell lot of time playing in the water. So, while they were in the process of enjoying, AK hit some rock in the water. Oh, I forgot to mention, that the water had more rocks inside of it than outside that were visible. So, when AK hit some random rock he felt that it was nothing much than a little pain caused because he was walking bare foot inside and outside the water. It was later only after like an hour after that it started paining like hell. So, does this stop him? No! What's wrong with this guy. I was telling ( read : shouting) to take a break and let it settle and ease the pain a little bit. But no, he had to roam around. And also he couldn't have limped so that it doesn't hurt that much. But no again. Someone kill this guy. He was walking as if nothing happened, subsiding the pain or whatever. This might not affect him, but there's me, remember. Hello, are you hearing, AK? I am still here. Does he stop there. No. The next day also the same story continues. And then again, he plays cricket yesterday. No, the leg is still paining. And to add to his existing pain in the foot, he missteps and sprains  something. Now, it was time to limp, dude. But no. He doesn't. Is anyone gonna kill him? Please do that at the earliest. 

5. I am trying my best to overcome that writer's block and I appreciate the comments by the fellow readers to inspire me. You did a great job. Thanks. It might take a while before I get back on the writing spree. Till then you have to bear my rantings. Oh wait, I do that all the time. Whatever ! 

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Alter-ego strikes again.

Music.

What would happen to the world if there was no air to breathe, no water to drink, no food to eat? Well, we have succeeded in acquiring the basic necessities of life . So, when I say Music is also a part of it, will you agree? 

"I don't know anything about music. In my line you don't have to."

- Elvis Presley 

It might sound lame, but believe me music helps a lot, in ways one can't even imagine. It is not just an altercation of sound, but an expression. An expression which has a meaning buried deep in it, a feeling which we can't say, an expression we can't describe. I am sure there are a lot of people who might agree with what I said. 

Music is something that rejuvenates the soul. The other day when I asked a friend to listen to a song which directly hit my soul, he did not take it the same way. When I say it hit my soul, I mean to say that the song tells about the exact state of my mind. Even though we are feeling sad, disappointed or whatever, music is a form of expression that redecorates the whole meaning of sadness in a much beautiful way. And this doesn't mean that everyone has to understand the musician's expression. It is usually understood by the like of the people who are dealing with the same state of mind. And believe me this really helps. When one feels down and listens to a music depicting the same state of mind and ending with a positive note, inspiring in a way. This changes the mindset of a sad/disappointed person. Not only for them but also for everyone. It gives a little insight of what's outside the box. 

It drifts into a world apart from this world, helping you escape the atrocities of this world and makes you wander in places unknown, not experienced , not explored. It lets you forget the 'you' for a moment and lets you understand you in a different perspective. I saw a few quotes somewhere and this would summarize what I just told.

"Music doesn't lie. If there is something to be changed in this world, then it can only happen through music"

- Jimi Hendrix

"Music in the soul can be heard by the universe"

- Lao Tzu

"One good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain"

- Bob Marley

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This post is written for Write Tribe's Festival of words Day-4 prompt 'Music' as a part of "The Write Tribe Festival of Words 8th – 14th December 2013". 

Numb.

What breaks you makes you stronger. I think I read this somewhere, or is it a song or whatever! I have nothing to do with that nor am I going to explain or do anything about it. I just wanted a nice introduction and that comes to my mind out of the blue. So, what am I writing? I wish I knew. 

I mentioned about the writer's block and how I am unable to write anything. I open the blogger more than I open Facebook on a daily basis. I just stare at the screen for a long time. When I am in office I open a book, which I specifically created for writing blogs and ideas and thoughts and whatever that comes to my mind. Then again I stare at it as if it were some alien from some far away galaxy. And then I question my existence. A classic thoughtful thought that never leaves my mind. 

What should I write ? I actually had no intention of writing for a while. I just wanted the people to sink in my previous post and learn the awesomeness of the writer to be an apt and brilliant observer. But as always, I was a little disappointed when it turned out to be me and a few known people who read it. But anyway, I had to write. Because whenever a thought comes to my mind and later I repent for my inability to reproduce the thought into a meaningful collection of words that usually aims at attracting the readers. 

I was actually surprised when a blogger friend said that 'people out there adore you'. No. Seriously? I was actually shocked. Are there any people out there? Please let me know. I would hug you and warn you that you are doing something extremely wrong. And then when she continued to tell that I am her muse. I don't know what to say to that. I was left speechless. I fail to inspire my self when I see a million reasons to get inspired. I fail to recreate a world where words are not just words but have a depth, an inner meaning, a driving force. I fail at everything. And whatever comes out is just a random scrambled words with no sense, no meaning. I see the people out there writing their heart out and believe me they do inspire to the very core of me. But then again I am myself at the end of the day; failing to recreate the simple thought. 

And now I have achieved the point when I am the only person reading my own blog over and over again and contributing to the page count (which I care about) I could blaze into the deepest darkest me. Hope I don't go crazy that I lose the little readers that do find time and read my blog. *Fingers crossed* 

The Eccedentesiast.

Author’s Note:                                                                                                           

In the early months of 2013, Ajay Kontham first approached me in his humble manner, to write a guest post for his blog, The Shaded Shadows. At that time, I was already quite busy, and though I relished the opportunity to have a challenging and fulsome reason to actually write (because, for some reason, I seem to be able to write without pause when I am purposely writing for someone else’s enjoyment), I realized it would be some time before I could actually comply and fulfill his request. A couple of months went by, and I am fairly certain that Ajay, in his self-effacing way, already felt that I didn’t think too seriously about his request. We were, after all, just acquaintances having met via our mutual blog friends, and therefore, to his mind, I didn’t really have any reason to spend time and effort on a mere acquaintance – therefore he must have given up any hope that I would actually write a guest blog for him. Here he would be mistaken, yet I wouldn’t blame him, as I actually got down to writing this piece at the end of Summer 2013. And then – to my intense and utter dismay – within one day of actually finishing it, the device upon which it was saved had gone missing. Cue thunder and lightning.

I, however, had not given up hopes that it would turn up again one day. And that you are here reading this foreword is only further assurance that this hope was not misplaced. I must, however, remind you that the chronological events in this piece have been displaced by a few months; indeed, when I had written this, the movie mentioned in the piece had not yet been released. That is only one example. The other crucial point pertains to the alias with which our blog host once used; he has since gone through many, many, changes of screen-names (so often that we might wonder if he changed his screen-name more than he changed his underwear) – it is my sincere hope that you would be a loyal enough follower of his blog to actually remember and relate to when he once called himself ‘The Guy in The Hat’.

Otherwise, I leave the rest to you and your reading. I hope - however small a tribute it is to our blogger friend Ajay - you do enjoy reading it. To the spirit of friendship, blogging, and artistic aspirations of all sorts: cheers!

IQ, November 30, 2013.

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The Eccedentesiast

Chapter 1

He had been sitting at the café for awhile, drinking his coffee, and as always, when he looked at the last bit of milk left at the bottom of his cup, he felt somewhat glum.

Smile, man. The same refrain from everyone. He didn’t want to smile. Even if he tried, it freaked him out, it felt fake. What was there to smile about?

It was another day, the same as any other. Only this time it sucked really bad. Worse, because he was in some new city on some confounded project for work.

Work! Since when did anyone give a damn about who he was or what he did? It was mindboggling. But apparently some colleagues of his were gossiping about him (what was there to gossip about? He wondered, idly) and their boss had been standing behind the gossipers with his arms crossed. Sure they were freaked out to be discovered, but what was more important, the boss had been actually listening.

Listening about the quiet Kontham boy. Like he had nothing else to do.  But that day, what the boss had heard was interesting. Interesting, because it looked like it could be the solution to one of their many problems.

So, next thing Ajay Kontham knew, he was standing in front of this boss and listening in bewilderment as he was told that he was being given a special project.

Ajay stared down at his finished coffee morosely. Special Project, my ass. Since when is anything about this work special? Lame is what it is. Lame brain pile of crap.

He got up, grabbed his bag, and left Coffee Café Day. Stood outside in the horrid sunshine and stared across the street resentfully.

If any of my colleagues knew what I’m doing today they won’t ever leave me alone. I’ll never be cool again. Who the hell even asked them to gossip about me. Sheesh, man.

Trying to delay the inevitable, he pulled out his phone. Went online and checked Facebook, then Twitter. He checked his blog and thought back about his visit to the boss.

Ajay, I hear you’ve got a popular blog. Don’t ask me how I heard, tell me is this true? Good. Because as you know we have been paying consultants for our online presence, and it seems like what we need is something you can help us with…

‘Ok screw this,’ Ajay muttered. It had been two days already and he hadn’t been able to do what he had been sent to do. He couldn’t explain it. It always ended up the same way, coming here out here to get – what? Some sort of confidence, and then eventually going back to his hotel room.

And that was what he was doing now. He crossed the road over to his hotel. It was ironic, that he was right there already, and yet he couldn’t come to terms with the fact until he was again across the road at CCD, staring across the road, a space which felt infinitely vast and impenetrable. It was like some kind of force field that kept him out, and every time he tried to return, he wasn’t able to. Or at least, not able to do what he was meant to, which wasn’t the same of course. It was way, way easier to just take the nearest elevator up and retreat back into the quiet sanctuary of his hotel room.

This time however, he dragged himself across the street and felt like he had crossed the Sahara desert by the time he reached the doors of the entrance.  The men at the doors nodded to him courteously, and Ajay, entering the cool interior of the hotel took off his hat, fixing his hair back in place.

He had a thing about his hair. He simply liked it to be just so, just the way he styled it. His hair was one of several comfort blankets for him. Perhaps an intellectual person, maybe a psychologist, would remark that it was because it was one of the few things in his life he had control over. But Ajay wasn’t a psychologist, so all he knew (and cared about) was that he looked damn cool with his hair just so.

While waiting for the elevator, he examined his reflection in the metal door. He affixed his hat back on and nodded to himself, then looked around surreptiously to make sure he wasn’t making a fool of himself. No one was looking. Good.

The doors opened and he got in. Some other people got in – girls, whispering to each other holding shopping bags. Ajay concentrated on his phone, studiously ignoring the others in the elevator. The next floor dinged, and they pushed their way out, clumsily knocking into Ajay.

Ajay blushed crazily up till his ears. Thankfully, they were already gone, and his floor was here. He got to his hotel room, swiped his doorkey. As he pushed the door open, a piece of paper went floating away across the carpet, catching some invisible breeze as it tumbled around until it hit the ground.

He tossed his bag on the bed and snatched the piece of paper. A small innocuous piece of paper, folded in half. He opened it out and read. And blinked.

Hey Guy in the hat, Hope to see you around! :)

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Chapter 2

So how did anyone here know who he was? And even more concerning: who here knew his alias was The Guy in The Hat?!

Ajay lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. His mind raced. There could only be two explanations. Either his colleagues, or the boss. But – he shook his head – first, the colleagues didn’t even know where he was, this special project was a hush-hush thing. That left his boss.

Ajay made a face. Yeah right, it’s him. He pictured the man; sour-faced, boring, no sense of humour, no creativity. But then appearances could be deceiving. After all, I look innocent and no one knows about my Dexter-like alter-ego. He chuckled to himself. Stopped.

No one here did anyways, but that wasn’t exactly true: someone did. Someone who knew he was The Guy in The Hat. He could call his boss and ask…but then that would include answering the boss’ questions about his progress out here, and Ajay wasn’t ready to tell him he had done nothing yet.

Nothing except drink coffees and sit in the hotel room. The irony was that here all this time Ajay was trying to put off his work just for the reason he didn’t want to get so much attention to himself, and somehow while keeping in the dark, someone already figured out his own secret. How?

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Chapter 3

It was evening and he stood at his mirror, making the last adjustments to his outfit. Somehow, between getting that note and now, he felt different. He was resigned to his fate, and had decided that since it was inevitable, he was going to have to do what he came to do.

Last thing before leaving his room, he took his hat in his hands and positioned it in place. He felt different. Somehow he had a mystery to solve, and now looking at his reflection, he felt the stirrings of excitement. His detective hat. Yeah, that sounded slick.

He took the elevator down, and reached the lobby. It was jam-packed. Hotshot cars pulling up at the entrance-way and famous people entering, camera lights flashing.

Ajay went down the corridor and showed his pass at the door. He went straight to the coffee bar and got himself a cappuccino. He moved back into the shadows and looked around.

Lots of famous people. Though he wasn’t a big follower of hindi films, he thought he could recognize a few faces. Kareena Kapoor, Arjun Rampal? And…Who was that over there? The crowds were too chaotic for him to see.  Ajay looked around for a chair.

He found a seat and pulling out his notepad, started to work.

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Chapter 4

Thankfully the actual event had ended early, the organizers saying it was for Amitabh ji’s health. Still, it was late at night by the time everything was done with. Ajay was dead-tired, but at the same time he was totally wired. Too much coffee. It was when everything really wound up that he was able to get some good material, getting close enough to the cast to take some pictures of his own.

Now the conference room was almost empty. Chairs all over, coffee cups overflowing the bins. No sign of his mystery person, though. He left the room and made his way past the concierge to the elevators.

‘Hey, you, excuse me!’ a member of the hotel staff approached him.

‘Me?’ Ajay pushed up his hat and looked around. Maybe this was it; this was the moment of reckoning! He looked at the guy closely - for what, he really didn’t know, but he still looked the guy closely. Who knew what clues he might be able to pick up.

‘Yes, sorry. I just have one favour to ask. If you don’t mind?’ The staff member shook his head apologetically. ‘We have so much to clean and shortage of staff. I just have small favour to ask.’

‘Yes, sure.’

‘Take this envelope to Ajay ji’s room if you don’t mind. It has very important message in it he must see by tonight. Important mind you.  I tell you which room, wait. One moment ok.’

Ajay blinked. ‘That’s ok, I know which room…’

The man looked up from his clipboard and grinned in relief. ‘Ah. Good, you take it right now? Thank you sir. Thank you.’

And went off.

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Chapter 5

All the way up to his room, Ajay was just in a daze. The envelope was clutched in his hand still. He reached his door and let himself in. Inside, he turned on all the lights and examined the envelope. Held it up to the light, sniffed it. Well, for however silly he felt, he still had to report that it did have some flowery scent to it. There was only opening it left.

He turned it over to open it, then froze. He peeked through his spy-hole in his door, then opened it and looked both ways. Seeing nothing, he closed it again and bolted the lock. Sat on the bed and opened the envelope. A folded piece of paper slid out.

Ajay licked his lips nervously. Unfolded the paper and smoothed it out. Reading it, he swallowed hard.

Ajay my love,

Surprise!! Hope you really were surprised this time naa! I know you were sooo upset about going all alone and whatnot but chillax jaan! Main hoon na!! Yes!! I’m here waiting for you desperately, come naa. My room is at 340 and I made sure the bed is king size!Wink wink

Come as soon as you get this OK??

Xoxoxoxoxox

K

 Oh my god. Oh my god. Ajay was so shocked. Utterly shocked, and…. Well, of course, he was feeling self-consciously shy.

Who was K? That was the question. He sat down at the hotel desk and thought about who he know who could be K. Kunal…Karthigan…Krishna…..

‘No!’ He slapped his head. Was he stupid? It had to be a girl of course. Duh. King size bed with Kunal? Ew, please. K, K….who could it be. And then, this person obviously had to know he was the Guy in the Hat. Of course. So that narrowed it down to girls who read his blog.

Kiara? Kierthana?

Uhmm. He blushed. How was this possible? He could spend all night puzzling this out, but a quick glance at the clock – 12:46 am – told him that the only way he’s going to find out was by visiting Room 340.

He washed his face and fixed his hair. Checked his breathe. Well, you couldn’t be too sure. King size bed and all…

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Chapter 6

As he made his way, he concentrated on breathing. For some reason, his lungs were not behaving normally. Maybe it was all that coffee he’d drank. Maybe not.

334, 336…he was almost there when his phone rang. He cursed, checked the display. Dammit, it was his boss, and he couldn’t just ignore it. Dammit! What timing this guy had. He answered it.

‘Ajay! Heard tonight was a good turnout there. Hope you got some good material for us?’

‘Umm yeah. I did sir, but sir it’s just a movie…I’m not sure what point of view to use to connect our services?’

‘You are the writer! We are counting on your great talent son. Satyagraha may just be a movie, but you know what they say these days, you must keep with the trend. We are counting on you my boy.’

‘Well okay sir, but it’s ummm…ah, it is late,’ Ajay faked a loud yawn. ‘And I’m very tired, so………I’ll talk to you soon, ok bye, sir.’

He ended the call and stood, staring at the door in front. 340. He stretched out his hand to knock.

No sooner, the door whipped open and a hand reached out, grabbed him, pulling him inside. Next thing he knew, he was against the door with the arms of a female around him, holding him tight with her face against his shoulder.

‘Um…ahh,’ He didn’t know quite what to say.

She let go and took a step back. And opened her mouth in horror. Ajay winced, hands out, ready to cover his ears, but no scream came out.

They stared at each other for a few seconds.

‘Who are you! How dare you! What are you doing in my room?!’ She threw at him.

Ajay was still stunned, just looking at her this close.

‘Speak to me you besharam! How dare you come in my room like this huh? Who do you think you are? Do you KNOW who I am?’

Still agog, Ajay moved his mouth, then found his voice.

‘Ji ma’am. I…I know who you are.’

‘Abey bol, what are you doing here?’

‘Ma’am, with all due respect, you are the one who, ah, pulled me in….’ He blushed.

She blinked at him. Then retorted, ‘Well who asked you to knock?’

‘Well…you did. Sent me the note…….’

Ajay paused. It all came together. Note to be given to Ajay ji……  ‘Oh crap,’ Ajay slapped his forehead.

‘I didn’t send to YOU!’ She looked incredulous. ‘My god….why on earth…’

‘I am so sorry. Seems, there was some mix-up with names…See, even my name is Ajay…like…’

‘Like my husband’s...’ Kajol Devgan shook her head.

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Epilogue

He had been sitting at the café for awhile, drinking his coffee, and as always, when he looked at the last bit of milk left at the bottom of his cup, he felt somewhat glum.

It was another day, the same as any other. Only this time it sucked really bad. Worse. He shook his head. Last time I thought this, it got worse.

He didn’t even feel like checking his phone. Going online. What was the point? He couldn’t tell anyone about his embarrassing experience. Thinking about it again, he buried his face in his hands. How could he have been so dumb? Of course, no one was interested in him.

‘……Helloo? Mind if I sit here?’

He looked up, blinking. Someone was standing in front him. Some girl. He groaned.

‘Listen, I don’t know who you are or...or, who you think I am. Okay? I’m Ajay Kontham!’

‘Umm…okay nice to meet you in person, Mr. Ajay Kontham,’ She smiled at him, just a little bemused. She put out her hand. ‘I’m Sneha. Can I sit with you?’

‘Umm.’ He stared at her hand, like it was a trap. Finally shook it. ‘Yeah…uh, sure, if you’re sure that’s what you really want to do.’

‘Yeah, I’m sure,’ She smiled. ‘So, where’s your hat?’

‘Huh.’ Ajay blinked. ‘My hat. What do you mean?’

‘I liked your hat. Why’d you take it off?’ She grinned at him mischievously. Made quote marks in the air with her fingers, ‘The guy in the hat? Sound familiar?’

‘Yeah. That’s me. How did you know?...’ Ajay paused. ‘Oh! You’re the one who...sent me that first note…I totally forgot about that one…’

‘First note? I only sent one! Popular guy, huh.’

Ajay choked back a laugh. ‘Ha, good joke. Me popular? See that guy over there? Yeah he always gives me my coffee with a heart shape in the milk. Like a joke. When I’m always sitting here alone. No matter which CCD I go. Anyways, I’m sure you just wanted to sit down in peace and not be bothered with me, and I am talking too much as it is ok bye.”

He got up to go. She stood up in a rush with him.

‘No! Please, I wanted to get to know you…I’ve seen you hanging around here and, well I felt like getting to know you…’ She looked away, not meeting his eyes.

‘Me?! Wha…’ His phone went off. It was his boss, dammit. Ajay made a sorry face at Sneha, answered.

‘Ajay! Amazing stuff you got! I cannot believe it! Personal interview with the one and only Kajol? And pictures! That’s way better than what we were expecting! Good work. I will see that you received a salary raise for this myself. You have a brilliant future with us, my boy. Okay got to go. See you back soon.’

Ajay hung up, slowly. His career was looking good. In fact, damn great. And now…he looked at Sneha. She was cute. Damn cute. And she was interested in him.

‘Uhh. Sorry that was my boss. So Sneha…um, sorry…’

‘Oh.’ She hung her head. ‘You don’t want to know me either na, it’s okay…I...just, I was here to cover the conference, am a junior reporter trainee from Bangalore, don’t know this place too well…and I just thought …well nevermind.’

‘No, ahm…no, I was going to ask, can I get you a coffee, maybe? One of those kinds that guy always makes me?’

She looked up, met his eyes. Smiled.

He smiled back.

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Written by : 

IQ at Supercalifragilisticsexyalidocious™
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