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Monday, September 04, 2006
A deja-wooed tale!!

ok..this is one of those deja vu posts. Poignant, fun, insightful, sad & laughter-filled..all in moi humble opinion only. Not that i'd wouldn't love to find opinion-mates, but its a rather long shot. and the description is a tad too bland with all the spice cut out.

Long aeons ago, there lived a girl, in a movie of course; spright, bright and harbouring a secret little bit of distress in her heart; a brilliant disguise in short. Then came a dude...and the arrangement came crashing down like a house on fire, brim & flint stones. the up and about thing is that these folks got glued together for a fair amount of time. And then, it was the time for the bright climax...when the music died.

The subject of countless hindi movies, which i am thankful to the stars, that i havent had to suffer for one circum-calendar time, this is the quintessential hindi tragi-drama. ofcourse things get sorted out in the end..but for the befuddled author who has forgotten the deja vu angle. Sigh! One of these times, i'll talk down the barriers of time, space & August end to bring forth the demons within.

Deja Vu's hit like a thunderclap in the seat of human patience..and leave the poor chap..thats me for slow folks..disoriented and faster than a speeding snail. And it was fun being me again, after what..a full 3 solar-lunar-terrestrial rotations.

well, the deja vu angle is all about a particular tpe of specs, which were a rage sometime when i was still something akin to a guitar-weilding, gut-busting dudester in what we call college. We had a badass group which was known far and wide for our chief, a certain character called the Chabi (hindi for clue!). Chabi is what polite folk call a human swearing machine; the closest  someone could get to assess and scrutinze all his/her relationships with people past/present, related/unrelated;..chabi was da man! ~All opinions powered from a Freudian perspective.~ but! something happened that removed the power of his imagination....what ra! fell in love ofcourse.

Then there was an even deadlier dude called Bhatia. Bhatia was class man! he could rip into the innermost barriers of the mind open it for public viewing. nice! He was the ultimate open source role model. Information flow should be free and flowing across various points of contact. However, even our dude got knocked down and perished to the flames of err..cupid's arrow ?

There was the goof-up screwball whom we knew through shared instinct that he was the one, Sabu; the unusual mech engineer who knew more girls than fratenal brothers. Being joined at the hip with us helped...us ofcourse! his life was miserable, starting t=0. tending to.....

And then there was one more. the author. me. moi. main. whatever. i was a difficult chap to catch wrong-footed.though am not claiming that i never did, but that i never did AND got ragged/caught/hunted/executed. for three aeons, moi reign was terrible. It was the power of the tongue with the power of confidence. past/picture perfect, i was what phallic slaves call the last man standing.

Not that the offers were flooding in, but a man's gotta do what he's gotta do! i was the unbreakable, the industructible force of nature who just did not give in. I am reminded of Lost's ads..where a tramp is shown with two defiant fists at the camera..it reads "No Quit".

Then, well the oak tree fell. and the unbelievers rejoiced. Three aeons of snickers were to come back to haunt me in one ..and powered through people as abominable as the abominable sabu, chabi & bhatia. man! i've read books where newbie armed forces boot-campers cant walk two steps without being tripped. it was like getting rammed in-hemmed in-fenced in and all of that, using the same friggin tricks that the author used to use..once upon a time. bastards would start a'singin, a'dancin', a'cajolin' at the drop of a hat...while the poor moi leanrt that, being nice to them when people are down, is a stooopid decision. one's gotta kick the other mofo as swift and as hard as one can.

time flew ..and well, it isnt that important..we lost touch. i gained weight though, and along with that lost a little bit of that sharpness of wit and tongue, a little less armored and started being a bit more adventurous and not an uptight ass who calls himself Unbreakable. Never again, i vowed would the aggressive son of a gun come to the fore again...No, i wasnt nice, warm & understanding ..not even a long shot, but a little smarter and more whats-it-called.. manager-clones of the great indian cloning dream - MBA, i mean.

that was the situation till this err..let me put it like this..recent past. A pair of specs was all it took for the deja vu experience. how it is relevant is not important, the upshot is that i came across one and then all of a sudden i got into this time-warp where a voice from across the past called out and said.."start, duh!". and the music began
It was great fun being me again, should particpate in games like this, more often. i can still feel like one of Stenbeck's hero's. back in the tortilla flat..seeing the winter of discontent departing. Ah! i feel renewed. Amen!

Author adds ~there isnt a point to the tale. Not at all. Or perhaps it does. If thou is one of the esteemed mofos that i had mentioned earlier, thou'd know the context. For newbies/well-wishers and other misc assorted folks, all i can tell thou is..the tale is not memorable, infact its downright arrogant and insightful. However, please note the absence of 'Y's in the post. No, it wasnt a superior demonstration of verbal skill..the thou-knows-what is malfunctioning.~


Posted at 10:48 pm by Lord Q

AlbatroS aka Vaibhav
September 8, 2006   06:21 PM PDT
 
Man, u are too much.
Khush kar diya oyee!! [:)]
 

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