Superhero

My story Split Infinitive and the Destroyer of Worlds has just come out in a new collection by Scholastic titled Superhero. Soon available in all leading bookstores.

... and Other Unlikely Stories

My story Sneezed out of Existence has just come out in a new fantasy anthology by Scholastic titled The Moustache Maharishi and Other Unlikely Stories. Check it out at your nearest book store.

A Pregnant Pause

Nine months away from the blog (ignore the last two blog entries) – shameful for someone who is addicted to writing and the internet. Yours truly can always conjure up a multitude of excuses, but what dear reader would be the point of such a futile exercise? Instead let me elucidate, nay, wax eloquent about my life in general. Forgive me my hubris (and the hoity-toity language), for I have never seen happier times.

Here goes – got published (have more writing projects in the pipeline), acted in two large theatre productions (one more on its way), started doing film reviews, became a creative consultant of sorts, sold my old IIT comp (miss you buddy), finally made the switch to Nokia from Sony Ericsson and …

An eventful and memorable year, which makes me look forward to the next one with greater expectations.

I am not one for resolutions, but am addicted to To-Do Lists.

To-Do in 2007

Blog regularly
Keep track of books and movies seen
Travel extensively
Get back into quizzing
Attend Clarion
Learn to play the guitar
Maintain contact with old friends
Write, write and write
And …

Seven Science Fiction Stories

Alive

Visit http://aliveindia.co.in and spread the message

Aargh!

Every now and then I reach the conclusion that the Universe has nothing left to teach me. Or that whatever else is left, is either useless or redundant. I wallow in the splendid muck of my ignorance. And then the Universe drags me out, gives me a cold shower, cleans me from head to toe and proceeds to give me a whipping which would make any Los Angles dominatrix proud. I hear you loud and clear Universe.

You.
Are.
My.
Daddy.

My faith in humanity is shaken. Aargh!

In other news the US visa system sucks.

8 Count

from my bed
I watch
3 birds
on a telephone
wire.
one flies
off.
then
another.
one is left,
then
it too
is gone.
my typewriter is
tombstone
still.
and I am
reduced to bird
watching.
just thought I'd
let you
know,
fucker.

Charles Bukowski

The Book of Answers

* I have been on a break of sorts the last few weeks. Lots of parties, great friends, excessive amounts of booze, no rest, no writing, no sex (grrrrrhh!!), otherworldly ideas, otherworldly confessions, retrograde amnesia, lacunar amnesia, Korsakoff syndrome, no books (uggh!) … Did I mention great friends – they make up for everything. Absolute indulgence!

* I have absolutely no pitch control while singing. This hurts because I think I have a genuinely good speaking voice (even Pacino doesn’t sing, so there).

* Trying to write Science Fiction after a long time. And this is supposed to be for 12+ kids – a very tough crowd. But I feel inspired. Only, I haven’t started writing yet (maybe after this post). Currently going through what I could label a writer’s block of sorts.

* Have put down the following in ‘things to do in life’ – bring back the craze of board games (currently working on an idea). Have put down the following items to buy from my first (already finished that, ok! second) writing pay check – a PS3 or Xbox 360. Get back to video games.

* Found this book called the Book of Answers - essentially a more elaborate magic 8-ball. I have decided to make all crucial decisions for the next three months based on my magic 8-ball. It makes sense to lead life with the following probability distribution – 50% Yes, 25% No and 25% Ambiguous. If one is as strong a believer in the complete inter-connectedness of things as I am then it makes complete sense to trust an icosahedral answering device. The Chinese used I Ching. I could use this. Throw logic completely out of the window and trust a ball. That’s my new motto – trust the ball!

* Went to Goa. Saw a guy getting his ass kicked at Calangute beach. What an awesome sight. I haven’t been in a fight for a long time. I remember the last time I was slugged (though not in a fight). I had to beg a drunk junior to take a swing at me. He obliged. I was left with an inch long gash on the inside of my mouth. What sweet misery. The pain was intoxicating. Someone want to open a real Fight Club?

* Want to spend a full day speaking in free verse. Will ask P. She’ll be game for such an exercise.

* Read the 12 part Crisis on Infinite Earths again after a long time. Somehow I have always preferred Marvel over DC. But this is a classic, though it did lead to more confusion in the DC universe.

* Been doing some research on the anatomical juxtaposition of two orbicualris oris muscles in a state of contraction. Henry Gibbins, Sr. MD (1808-1884) must have been one jobless bugger. Check out some philosophical kisses here (My favourite – a Nietzscheian Kiss).

That Was the Week That Was

I have condensed the last three weeks into one+. So the Tuesday following the Monday need not be the same good old Tuesday. It never is.

Saturday: Gave the IELTS at the Residency Towers (right opposite Bike and Barrel). Reached the test centre half an hour early. Irresistible urge to down a couple of beers. Resisted. Some how. Test - complete snooze fest. Slept off for ten minutes during the Reading Section. Found the Writing Section tedious. After test drank 2 beers in 5 minutes and left. Saw Sub (don’t know her name) for the fourth time this week. She brushed past smiling.

Sunday: Woke up late. Went for the Speaking Section (interview) at Residency Tower. Talked about neighbours and happiness. Interviewer was this nice middle aged woman. Enjoyed myself for a change. Was generally excited. Wanted a tour of fantasies – so decided to meet the fab-four (they are not a group, different girls). To my amazement saw all of them. Sub at Subway. Usual flirting on the lines of ‘are you stalking me?!’ Much laughter. Exchanged numbers. Decided to meet sometime. Saw N (she looks hot with those spectacles). Met U at gym (realised gym has not been a good socializing place in the past). U has bad habit of flexing and exposing in the men’s area (in retrospect it isn’t a bad habit). Forgot about completing fantasy. Evening went out with good old Ra-to-the-power-2. He’s always good company. Found M at Zara. Was amazed and astonished. Universe has been looking out for me. The fantasy was carried out. Spent night thinking about the complete inter-connectedness of things.

Monday: Wrote a parody of Woody Allen’s The Whore of MENSA. Happy with the result. Evening went for a play reading at house of Ra3. Partied afterwards at the same place. Met some interesting people. One called D was quite enchanting. She left early. Good old Ka, Ra1 and Ra2 (different from Ra-to-the-power-2, have decided to call Ra2 – the artist formerly known as Richard – he was pleased) proved good company as usual. Left at 2 AM.

Tuesday: Slept all day. Realised that I poke people with my big toes when drunk. Use it as a method of communication. Found the reasoning behind this bacchanalian habit interesting. Wrote down these observations for future use. Saw some TV.

Wednesday: I don’t like the middle of the week. A very confusing time. Edited over five thousand words. Don’t remember much else.

Thursday: Met Ra3 at Amethyst. Had lunch and talked. Saw a group of girls on the adjacent table. Memorized one of them. Vivid image. Struck by her eyes. Evening went for King Kong premiere. Peter Jackson is a genius. Andy Serkis should be nominated. The movie should earn $ 2 Billion. Movie has shot straight to my top 5. Decided to stop at Hi-Look for bread-omelette. Met old friends. Felt good. Went home. Wrote all night.

Friday: Bad morning. Felt tired. Had to go judge an event some place. Event was starting late. Had three black coffees. Pain in back started. Event was good. Memory from previous day materialised herself next to me for about two hours. Those eyes. Felt inspired. Felt a fever coming on. Back was in bad shape. Did something foolish. Would regret next day. Still went home and wrote for six hours. Then died. Well almost. Slept for the longest possible time.

Saturday: Slept all day. Evening met the tribe (may we flourish). Told them about Eyes. Told them about foolishness. Was chided and made to feel guilty. ‘Dude! Expected you to act with greater finesse’ So did I. Went home and slept some more.

Sunday: Met the tribe again. Have realised that a good ol’ self destructive streak would be fun. Feel like a stubborn kid who always wants the forbidden candy. A strange evening. Weird confessions from everyone around.

Monday: Wrote a lot. Carpal tunnel syndrome about to strike. Have taken a decision. Need the Universe (as usual) to assist.

Tuesday:

Aced IELTS
Finished Reading:
The Pythons Autobiography by the Pythons
A Book of Illusions – Paul Auster
Freakonomics – Steven D Levitt and Stephen J Dubner

Was there a point to all this. May be!

Fiction: The Kiss

She had made fun of me the first time we met.

The acerbic words, the colourful and often (more like always) hurtful diatribes I am now known for were missing in my repertoire back then. It was a time, when once I had found out that the female of the species Canis Familiaris is called a ‘bitch’, had found it exceedingly funny and decided to christen everything I met on my way back from school by the same name, my mom had put a little red chilly powder on my tongue and warned me that if I ever called a woman that she’d disown me.



She had made fun of me and I had remained silent.

I was four years old and she was about three years older and four fingers taller than me. She could have easily taken me.



She had made fun of me and I would have done the same if I were in her position.

You see, I still hadn’t mastered the subtle art of tying my shoelaces. I never really understood the whole ‘one little bunny goes over the bridge, hides below the hedge and is then pulled out by the evil witch’ bit. What the hell was a bunny doing on my shoes anyway?



She had made fun of me and then gone ahead and tied my shoelaces.

We had become friends instantly. And we were inseparable. We were together when I lost my first tooth, when she and I learnt to ride a bicycle, when her parents split, when she had her first period (the oddest day of my life so far), when Jurassic Park came to the theatres, when she was asked out on her first date …

And then my parents decided to move to a different city.

We were sitting on top of the water tank on my terrace (our favourite place). We had not spoken for over an hour. We just sat there looking at the houses around us, the play ground where we had learnt to climb trees together and our old school in the distance. We didn’t look at each other. We didn’t want to cry.

My mom called out from the driveway. They were ready to leave. I said I’ll be down in a few minutes.

I looked at her. And did something I had never expected to do. I kissed her, kissed her for the longest possible time. But something was amiss. She wasn’t responding. Her lips weren’t moving. I kissed her harder, pulled her closer to me. Nothing. I only withdrew when I felt her tears on my cheek. Her face was expressionless. She didn’t say anything.

My mom called again. I stood up in a daze. Said goodbye. She still didn’t say anything. I stood there for a moment and then climbed down the stairs.

On the way to the airport I did not speak to anyone. All I could think about was her. Had I done something wrong? Had I destroyed the only friendship which meant anything to me? Had I …

I was fourteen years old. And that was my first kiss.

****************

I was waiting for her on the airport. We hadn’t met or spoken to each other for almost ten years. She had found me through the internet. She was going to be in the city for a few hours.

I was moving around impatiently in the waiting area, the least bit interested in the cricket match coming on the television. A man walked up to me and inquired about the score and then went ahead and gave me a lecture on the importance of the coach and the captain. I nodded and smiled, appreciating his knowledge and depth of the game, while all the time wishing that he’d find a small unassuming puddle of muck and drown himself in it.

Somebody tugged at my sleeve and turned me around. And before I knew it I was being kissed, kissed passionately. It was her. And we were kissing. She drew me closer and we went on kissing. We stopped when we heard a loud applause. It wasn’t for us. India had won the match and people were celebrating. We laughed. The way we used to. I picked up her luggage and arm-in-arm we left the airport.

“That was how I should have kissed you all those years back” she said as we were getting in my car. “I hope I made up for it”

“More than you’d ever know” I replied and smiled.

We spent the next three hours driving around the city remembering the old days and talking about the present. She works for a top NGO. She is happily married. Plans to have a baby in the next few years.



Just now I left her back at the airport. All the guilt that had built up over the last ten years has been swept away. I have regained a good friend. And I can look back fondly and say - that was my first kiss.