Must have been love

A lot has been scribbled and scratched and squiggled for this four letter word. Smaller than even the most understandable words in the English dictionary, love has been in existence in the Oxfords since Shakespeare and maybe even before. Amazing, how people have cruised through their life writing about the expression of basic human relationships through guides and novels. However, it may seem so but this column does not belong to the flagship expression. It’s just a paragraph of my worldly exploration of the expression.

No one not even the greatest minds have confessed to have fully deciphered the depth provided by this four letter ecstasy. Simpler to know and look up in any available form of literature, love has been coined to invade the deepest feeling man has even known.

I like somebody! And I presume everyone who’s ever been on my blog must have, at some point in their life, felt the same. It’s the magic of being in a one sided infatuation that empowers you with the ability to characterize the liked one. You are the creator of your liked ones, you shape them the way you want them to be. I have a gigantic crush on somebody, somebody I never talked to and somebody I would never gather enough courage to mutter “I like you”! And then starts the fantasy of falling in the sweetest trap. Without you knowing the thing your subconscious is busy trying to generate a code, a certain persona for the one you like. They are being made. I know it sounds funny but take a minute to ponder on it. You recognize somebody but you do not know them. You do not know what they do when they wake up, you do not know what colors they like or how they like their morning coffee. These however are merely their likes and dislikes. But what you actually do not know is the person, then inside of him, the reality that defines him. You are so reluctant of the fact that you do not know the person you like. Your mind does not allow you to believe the nothingness you know about the liked one.

The mind is a crooked artist. It makes you see what you want to. It makes the person into a persona you would adore. My crush I certainly do not know about but I have created for myself a dream persona for the same. She is the sweetest person I know. She helps, cares and is shy and playful, she likes to trouble me, sweep me off my feet and even ask me for things I would never find for her like the moon and the stars. Now since that my fantasia I create the rules. Maybe yours would have a crush being naughty all the time, being bad and arrogant, hopelessly careless and not committing. Anyways, the point being, we sculpt personalities for people we are infatuated to. We make furious attempts into believing everything that our crush fits into our creation. All the acts small or big by our infatuation find a satisfying explanation to match our sculpted personality. We are the dream weavers of our infatuation.

The dynamic deviation to our thriving is more meaningful when we fully prepare our dream worlds. We live it! Without our knowledge we transform a simple liking, a huge infatuation into ‘love’. Ends meet and the circle is completed. Realization of this conversion never usually takes place. But whenever it does its too late to accept the previous facet that you like her. Now you ‘love’ her! There we are pondering again… “Must have been love…”

MUSIC

Music … is the meaning of life. It is the rhythm of life. It has all the joy, the pain the sufferings and the excitement of life. Blah blah blah… there goes my dearest philosopher. Music is coffee. Yes!!! This is what I think about music. It is to me a hot cup of coffee with just the right bitterness and the flavour with the perfect aroma. It, at times, can rejuvenate me to highest enthusiasm levels and if served at wrong times can deplete my remaining brain with its bitterness. But always grips me with its effects no matter good or bad.
I know I am not the greatest of all music freaks and absolutely not a singer. But I have vividness in my choice. I like ‘The Beatles’ with the same passion as I like ‘Rammstein’. (Actually passion is not the correct word there. It should have been rapture. Passion would impart an unnecessary power to the sentence). Like every subject music is considered to be the area of interest of a dear friend of mine Mr. Priyadarshan Bhawadekar (a.k.a lambdya). He surely has done his homework for this one. The sum of the knowledge (in this case) of each of us in my group will not equal his M.Q. (music quotient). He, of course, is not much into metal but likes ‘The Unforgiven’ by ‘Metallica’. He worships ‘The Beatles’ the all time no.1 60’s rock (and roll) band. If he were told to place somebody on the second place in his hit list it would be Bryan Adams. Nope he is not the topic to discuss here.
What I like about the heavy metal or thrash metal bands is the power in their songs is handled with the best possible chariness. Even with the whole dictionary of raunchy words being spurted in their songs and the pugnacious voices these guys manage to develop catchy music. I have always related this to the aggression in my life. For example, if my dream girl refused my ‘rose’ what am I supposed to do? My heart says 'please return and judge your place in this universe' but then there is a rocker in me. He takes the front seat and disconnects me from my brain. I take one look at my girl and start towards her. I grip her in my arms and declare that I like her. And I ask her what would she do if I didn’t leave her? And I leave her without hearing the answer. Well done tiger. Thou-shall-be-spared look on my face I think of myself as the greatest rocker! Of all these years of me listening to rock music I finally found the enlightment of rock in me. Of all the day-dreams I found this one the best and unlikely. Realistically, as soon as I force her the rose she may want to see one of my cheeks red with the mark of her firm palm placed symmetrically on it.
I hate reality.

Another year of disaster

It’s that time of the year again when you produce a lot of enthusiasm for the New Year and never know how fast it comes and passes by. And this is the worst of those times for me. I’m sitting in my lonely apartment working my ass off for the project that is assigned to three people (out of which I happen to be the only one helping my project guide produce time for his grumbling activity). Life is so unfair to me! I wish, with no girlfriend and no invitation to any of the New Year’s parties, I could say that. But I guess I’ll skip on the lame line and save a minute for my horrendous work. The guide is planning to smack me right where it hurts. He wants me to complete my work by 31st and show him the progress then and complete the whole thing the next day so I could report him the finalized thing the next day.
Its not that I wait for this day the whole year but when everybody around you including the people who are supposed to be working are partying its kind of hard to concentrate and realize the seriousness of the situation. All those I know are busy doing some whacko stuff or are enjoying their year end at homes. Well, maybe not enjoying but spending. At least they get to eat good food and watch the idiot box. It does not matter how idiot it is on New Year’s Eve. I’ll be happy cleaning my apartment or worse watch the fire show on the TV rather than sitting all by myself and realizing how much really my life sucks. I would refer my state as the superlative degree of frustration, the same sense of defeat and disagreement with life on qualitative terms of engagement realized when unable to reach the high of onanism even with all the ravishing voluptuousness lying around craving for you.

Note:: Since I'm really busy right now, I'm posting an entry that I made in digital diary before I had a blog. This was made on Dec 31st 2005.

Dive agar – the bEaCh

Cast & Crew: 29 degrees

Members (29°):

Kshitij Chaudhari
And the almighty could continue no more… This is one of a kind, dumbest of the clan. This is the first time he suggested a place that is worth every second of u being there!
PS:: The above is not by me!

Veerdhawal Chavan

The only IITian in the pack; insanity at its very best. Believe me, this is the most ‘still’ pic of his! He wriggles, all the time. He’s the ‘brain on steroids’ so the finance manager for the trip.

Suhas Kalal
The Public Relations in charge for the bunch. With his gift of gab he could lure anyone into making u believe he’s the only ideal person alive. But beware he’s the holy terror in flesh and blood.

Swapnil Kendre

The Travel Arranger, when everything trails, call the trailer. This is person who made the trip a greater success than it could have ever been. He made those lil’ things called ‘trouble’ ‘coz anything without problems is nothing at all.

Vikram Thorat
The Show-maker is one who is supposed to be an entertainer for the two days of the beach mania. Ultimate grumbler of the group, he can make your guts fall out just by his shrills. Its unadulterated MAD TV all live.

Sameer Bansode

The Adventurer, Cisco pays this guy 20k for they think he’s a valuable asset for their company. An Argonaut in the journey who got his Golden fleece eventually. He hates the onlooker and could kill him for free.

Priyadarshan Bhatwadekar
The Onlooker has to be contented staring at the photo albums of the beach ‘coz he chose to be a renegade instead of sharing the memories. Not that he cannot understand the intent he does not wish to. Sarcastically yours…

-----------------------------

The PLOT:
The story goes something like this; Group of guys all seeking for phun – somehow get suggested an exploration to a place in Konkan (spelled ‘Amazon’) by one of them usually called ‘the dumb’. Everyone but one agree on the perilous and breathtaking experience. The one that disagrees is called ‘the Renegade’. He’s excuses being selachophobia (fear of sharks) and thalassophobia (fear of the sea). First of the two is completely understandable ‘coz we were gonna be in Konkan (told u ‘Amazon’) so sharks was very sincere and good excuse. But the other was totally whack… there is no sea there its all ocean, people!
Anyways, we decided not to persuade the Renegade! Everyone else was really excited about this place but we had to do a lot of things before the (beach) adventure. So we did the work distribution. Everyone was provided with a task viz. the Show-maker, the Adventurer, the Travel Arranger and the Public Relations. All had done their jobs well. And we started…

1: Even after a late start we were still ahead of our schedule, thanks to the extra kms that we thought we needed to travel towards the destination. A full tank to diseal gave us the first stop.
2: Everyone's dying of hunger and to keep the adventure more phun we needed volunteers to be alive, we had to stop for breakfast.
3: The road was really cool but the music needed to be something more than altaf raja...
4: Finally our first checkpoint, Hari hareshwar, the temple near the beach with 'pradakshina' through the waves

1: The waves were too compelling and we could not wait to get soaked. So.... we got soaked.

2: However some were more interested on making a mark of our pack on the beach.

3: Finally after all the phun and the beach play and the photogrphic skill show, we decided to pay attention to the temple. The temple of Lord Shiva, the hari hareshwar devasthan also called 'dakshin kashi'.

4: We hit the road again. And lemme me tell u what a long beach road was it... see for yourself. 30kms of sea, sand and music (till then we didn't mind even altaf raja). By the way that is our driver 'Malhari'.

1: All of the photogenics in one frame. Me, Sam, Swap.

2: The gang, all on a expidition to heaven. The spot we stopped at was nothing less. It was all sea creek and waves and the sun far away setting into to the sea making us feel all content. (Dead poet's society, ain't it!)

3: Eventually, we reach our destination. This is the [place we had booked for our stay in Diveagar, 'Anandyatri'. The eye catchy greenery of the place made us spen some time at our rooms.

4: And we couldn't wait a second more after that... we went to the serene beach.

1: Sunset on the beach, what else could one ask for... just fine kokani cuisine.

2: Next morning we were all energetic & hence bullied Suka (the Ppublic relations) & Veeru (the Accountant).

3: Morning photo session, we found two small cute props Juile Joshi and Omkar Joshi who coincidentlly were staying at the same place.

4: The Travel arranger aka Swap prepared for the beach with his gadgets and gizmos.

1: We walked down to the beach through the small and virgin forest roads of the village.

2: Once there we wasted no time talking or remembering out late 'Vollyball' we had lost last evening.

3: And again we scored. We have almost 250kgs piled up on Suka.

4: The waves were really high with exuberance and excitement. Salts all over and plenty of Vitamin D, we had a blast.





1: The Show-man was enjoying the serenity on the beach, basking in the Konkan Sun.

2: The Gang was all pondering at the untiring and the ever enthusiatic waves of the Sea. We bid the see good-byes.

3: On our way back we took a stop at The Golden Ganesh temple - the place actually is famous for.

4: Again the photo manic continued when on the road. Found the right spot and stopped on the road...







1: ... and there came a State transport vehicle to disturb the scene.

2: Coincidence, where we stopped happened to be Katol 29 kms... (we call our group 29 degrees... thats a long story)

3: All out for a 'pee' stop. Nothing more gratifying than a much awaited pee stop.

4: Staring at the setting sun, we were just about to reach Pune when we decided to... stop for more photos!

Below is the map of the place marked we had just explored...

And so they returned all victorious and cheerful… more importantly with the memories!
Dive Agar, the parts of our lives we lived to the fullest. Now I understand what cherishing memories mean…

18 till I die...

I do not know why ‘18’ is considered to be the most significant digit everywhere may it be the US or the UK or the Asian continent. It is considered to be the edge of everything that converts a kid into an adult. This limit specifies that he goes to jail instead of the child correction facility. Suddenly his all wrong doings are regarded as sins. He looses a lot on good qualities such as innocence and truthfulness. He migrates from cuteness to corruptness. Now he does not look he stares and he does not follow but stalks you. I was 18 once and that did not change my saneness then. I was 19 once too but even that didn’t make me change my realizations about the political empire and its rulers then. Now, four years after the magical figure is crossed I still consider myself uneducated or rather inexperienced when I look at the girl next door. She has just mastered the teenager phase of her life. Still she is much more mature and simplified (by simplified I mean she has thought upon and solved most of the catastrophe). My brain is unable to swallow the thought that if somebody commits a shoplifting act on his 18^th birthday is he entitled to a different punishment that he/she would have got the day before. How fair is that? Or this means he should have had shoplifted a day before his birthday so as to just take a flying visit to the child correction facility.
The reference of the Delhi MMS case here brings me to another point. How old is old enough to be an adult? Here the word fast holds its meaning in the truest sense. Students have so much exposure nowadays that they are 18 before they are 18. They watch everything that there is to watch/learn on their personal computers or televisions sets. Cool is defined by the way one dresses or the attitude he/she carries. Driving a four wheeler before you are 18 is not a crime unless you are caught. But you cannot have your own car before 18. Nobody gets a driving license before they are 18. It does not matter even if you can drive when you are 16. Many minors who get caught in a ‘not for them’ cinema halls can teach the man double their age present there about the difference between HIV and AIDS. And we still count the magic figure.
It’s like specifying a territory boundary, it actually isn’t there nor does it really exist but has to be marked so as to differentiate. No matter what age we specify as a golden age to be considered an adult it’ll always be just a boundary… nothing more!

PS:: All that has been penned here is just a controversial squib and I am not urging anyone to think on this topic because nothing will change, not us, not them not even (y)ours lovingly the Indian constitution. This article just provides a little material for reading just like any matrimonial or classified ads in every newspaper.

Diveagar - the Beach
Coming soon...

In Diveagar, the place we all agreed upon to be renamed as heaven... 200km from Pune in Raigad district. Part of Konkan strip unexposed to saviness and the materialism of our world. Something we can relate to fantasy, a must see for everyone, the romantic couple, the happy family and the skanky group of friends all set to disturb the law!

xitiz�2006

And they think...

People think I’m an obscure person… And they are absolutely correct almost 99% of times. I am unclear of what I’m saying. Expression is one thing that is free everywhere in the world, and this is also the only thing that I’m unable to perform properly and communicate what I want to. However I find it amazingly funny that I can think better than most of us. In that aspect I’m very vivid and clear. My friend circle is not much of a come all allow all types. My close friends are all very very different individuals and have not the slightest of things in common. I’m not saying we do not have differences or fights. In fact I have the most fights. I am the only one who has as many as a million fights with each of my friends. We all are engineers but are into different fields. Every one of us has a different reason for we being good friends, I’m however, happy and content that all of them consider us good friends. One of us once asserted that we all are (uncanny, though) high intellectual people so we are together. I do not actually believe it and of course nobody I presume will every consider this to be true.

Well, coming back to the obscure part: I have a social history of rejecting and criticizing every one and every thing. This gives me a little unrealistic image. I know I cannot ape or reproduce the same virtue I’m criticizing but then nobody can. That usually is the beauty of the substance. I presume that the substance is good just that it’s not good enough. Observation forms the keen part of criticism and I do not attempt to state here that I’m the best of observers. However, it takes an onlooker for an archer to make sure he uses all the correct poses to hit the target. Some things that are absolutely brilliant are so few and I do not try to reduce them or their importance. I, actually, try to make sure that each one is done with more finesse and determination.

I consider that in this world people are driven by two ways, videlicet; cruelty and compassion. I’m the cruel way of doing it and that makes a critic. Inspiration for me comes from degradation and loss. Those who sought the way of compassion make me feel pitiful but they too are doing the same thing as I’m, just in a different way. Universally, black and white can never result in black or white but grey, no matter what is the proportion. So the hate of the critics with the appreciators is and always will be. But both of them make this world more interesting.

Vignette Exposure
Copyright 2006

That's me!
Copyright 2006