GS' Beats

It was all smokes. And almost dark. There were lights. The ones with the yellowish glow. Round ones without the filament. Almost thirty in numbers. Along the wall. But they were covered by smokescreens and translucent glasses of multiple colours. There was maroonish red, blackish green, navy blue. There was light. From more than adequate sources. Enough the lighten up a hall ten times the size. Still it was dark. ‘Huh…. ambience, eh?’ Siva sighed, nibbling the chip with his lips. He sat alone, in the centre most table. The area that was least crowded, and farthest from the light spots. The larger lots were occupying the ones along the wall. Just below the lights. They came in groups, went in groups. Some celebrating. Some debating. Some where shouting. Some whining. Few were monks. Complete pandemonium around, they remained blissfully at peace with themselves. Unaware of the pleasure around, or the pain around. “Target, targets, targets…. My boss screws me every day. He fixes a target....

Today: The security raised his hands to signal good evening, and Edward slowed down his bike and reciprocated. Parked his bike and noticed certain bunch of covers and envelopes in the mail box, picked them and climbed up the stairs without removing his helmet. Telephone bill, credit card statements, some investor magazines, couple of covers from watch shops and garment dealers, three wedding invitations. He pressed the buzzer and his dad opened the door. "How was the day?" "Good, pa." He handed over the envelopes to his dad, ambled to his room. Helmet was placed on the cot, back pack thrown besides the computer table, shoes came sliding to the main door from his room, socks and shirts found their way to the washing machine. He wore a shorts and a tee and came out of the room, asking for dinner to his ma. "Wash your face atleast." Mother pleaded from the kitchen. "Atleast wipe it clean of the sweat and dirt." Edward went into the kitchen. Held his...

Its the evolution of man. So you know. Humans were stooping low, and slowly found the right way, to walk. They are turning pigs in some other. There are several variants of evolution of humans and men in particular. This post in particular deals with one aspect. What does one observe? Notice carefully! As man has been evolving, there is one huge change? Guess what? No, no! It is not his erect posture. He still stoops low. So low that he often smells his own. Men are turning pigs? Er, eh. Hmm. Not really. They were always pigs. No evolution there. Notice carefully. Observe. Something is getting shorter. No no. Its not his, er, hands. Hair.... As man has been evolving he has been getting shorter and shorter hair, and soon no hair at all. I meant on the face. More specifically on the head. Which means, a man who has fully evolved has just head. Not any forehead and all. Thats for history. And this forms GSM's Confused Theory on Evolution of Men. Men lose hair because they evolve. P...

My earliest experience at a hotel (in my parlance; to others it is Restaurant) has been pleasant. It was pleasant because, it was a new experience for me. Eating out. It was not a frequent exercise. It was very very rare. The reason for such rarity was two fold - cultural and affordability. A scheme of things where by eating outside for the heck of it would be blasphemy, when you have a mom or wife who can cook. If you are bachelor, you are a curse on this earth which has seen Nala . Eating out was a strict no no more because of the financial burden it would put on your pocket. With little stream of income, it would obviously be stretching the purse too much at the cost of other necessities. It was, to put it crudely, privilege of the elitist class. And I am not referring about people with fatter wallets, but people with wallets. Neither of the above reasons made any sense to me as a kid. I considered my father to be extremely cruel, for he was not taking me to hotels very often. Not e...

My heart was missing several beats over the past five minutes. It would have missed even further. It was choking as well. The one that didn't miss, was pounding hard. Wasn't able to breathe easy. Couldn't even manage a smile. Anxious and nervous. The face stoic. Almost expressionless. Deceptive. As I watched the monitor, I looked at the digital chrono on the screen. Another 7 minutes for the scheduled close. There! Another beat missed. And then came the final blow! And the heart exploded to a joy. I looked around. Nobody there. I managed a smile. Five days of agony. And India had won! For those who don't understand what that means, "Welcome to the life called Cricket." For those who say "Cricket? And Life? Bollocks!", I have just two words "Fuck Off!!!" And my middle finger to you as well Mr. Bernard Shaw! Some asses with a gift of words, seldom have gift of sense. Cricket may not be the most beautiful game, for it is not about gimmicks and...