Goodbyes

Goodbyes are not good. They are bad. I don’t know when the not good changed to hatred but now I hate goodbyes and all its brothers and sisters, intellectually speaking I hate all of its kinds. They are like that wall of the perfect room which will get all watery due to the seepage of water and take away all the perfection from the perfect room. They are inevitable. At some point we have to face them. I think if that point comes but again then the hatred towards the whole idea of bye-bye grows.
But I have another problem I cannot handle such problems without actually finding something which at least give my heart and brain some satisfaction. So from today onwards I will stop saying goodbyes (and tatas) and instead of that I will say “until next time”, well my brain is satisfied because it is surely not any kind of a goodbye and my heart is satisfied because it gives the poor guy some hope.

The Face Wall

Sometimes you see people and you know they are different rather special would be a better word. He is a banker, nice person very quiet, calm, someone you will notice for being simple. Well first I should tell a little bit about his history, well-educated family background and he was an adopted son, the only one in the family, his parents died of cancer, he lost his mother at a very small age and then his father when he turned 24, he donated approximately everything he inherited, which was about 50 million. So what he actually inherited was a house which he purchased from the inherited money, an average small house in a normal locality. Let us hear the story from the man himself……………………
I will start straight away. The wall of my bedroom was not plastered so water seeped through it to make shapes and other stuff on the wall, you all should have seen that, but this was nothing normal, whatever appeared on that wall entered my life, first was a face, face of my best friend, john, I met him at the bank and soon we were really good friends, actually he was my only friend. Maybe I didn’t need any one else. Second was the women from the coffee shop we too became friends, but she went after her wedding, she went to Australia. The third was my dog “killer”, he was just opposite to his name the smallest and the cutest dog I ever saw in my life. Fourth my neighbor and many more. Until now what so ever came on the wall came into my life too within two days. But now the picture on the wall stopped changing.
But when the face was of the girl of dreams appeared, it made me wait, wait long, but she came and she came directly to me, well because our bags exchanged at the mall, then the first time I went to a disco, there she was sitting, enjoying her cocktail, I went to her and said hi and asked that what did she do except making men drop their jaws with her beauty. She was extraordinary, she was a lecturer, and she was the rarest and the deadly combination of beauty with brains. My first date went very good, which resulted in many more.
That day, she was coming over to my house for dinner, I had everything ready, except the cork opener, “I don’t know how the hell I missed that, my neighbor has borrowed it I will be right back” I said and left. When I came back she was there, lying still on the floor, which blood all over her white sparkling dress. When I came to my senses, I called john, he came over and then we decided we should call the police as he made out that she was stabbed in her back, so I called the police, they came and went in and came out and said there is nothing inside, I ran up the stairs stumbled and fell and fainted. When I came to my senses I took them to the room and there was nothing, no blood, nothing and then I asked about john and then they said when they came here, there was no one here but me. I took the police officials in the bedroom to show them the picture of the girl I was talking about on the wall. The wall was plastered and clean. I fainted again.
Now when I came to my senses I was strapped and a beam of light hurting my eye, soon enough I realized I was in a Citi scan machine, doctor told me my brain was internally injured when I fell from the stairs. I asked about the cops; doc. said they left as there is nothing they could have done. I told him my story, he told me to call john, well I didn’t had my cell phone so he asked for the number and I told him, “the number you r are calling does not exists, please check the number”. I didn’t understand anything, but my doctor did and he said that he thought I was hallucinating things, the word sounded really good in movies, but not now, now it sounded impossible. Doc. thought that the injury to my brain may have stopped my hallucination; I said I can prove that everything is real, I have photos, he said let us check them, I went home and there were no photos, killer was also not there. Now I understood why always people in public places looked at me as if I was mad. That wall was the masterpiece of my imagination.

I dodged the bullet but still I am dead………….

I am dead, you may hear me breathing but actually I’m dead. I don’t understand what killed me, maybe you can help. Usually I introduce myself and do such stuff, I should say I used to do those things but now I won’t and I will cut the bullshit and come directly on the story, here it goes……..
I was joking, I am dead, but I got to introduce myself, so I am Steve people call me Setvey I don’t know why they do so because the length is the same so it’s not a nick name of some kind or whatever, just let it be. I am a bad person rather I was a bad man since now I am dead. I have done every illegal thing which has a maximum penalty of being sent to jail for five years. I like to play poker, which kind of is responsible for my current condition, I owe ‘mamba’, mamba is the man you don’t want to owe and if you owe him, you want to pay back and when I say you want to, I mean it. I on the other hand, i am very bravely, foolish and idiotic because I said I won’t give his money which I don’t have and I have my reason, that mamba cheated, that dumb could never had beaten me in poker. So I think, I don’t owe him, but who owes mamba is decided by mamba, so I am in shit and I am trying to enjoy the last days of life because soon enough I would be lying somewhere unclaimed, well of course I will be dead. Well now I owe mamba so I can take loan and owe anybody until and unless they don’t know that I owe the “******” because anyhow, I am a dead man walking.
With all the borrowed money, I went to the best hotel in the city to have the best last days of my life, there I found a family very loving family there were two kids a girl and a boy both were really adorable and the family was very welcoming, of course, without knowing my background and going by the suit I was wearing I really looked like someone big , for the first time in my life that too in my last days I came to know how is it to be in family and have family. I know what you are thinking that I am some orphan wrong; ok I know your second guess too parents killed in theft or robbery, again wrong, my parents died natural death and the thought I was some lawyer, well there was nothing wrong with my childhood or my life at all. I am just like that. I liked risks and I didn’t knew what I wanted so I ended up quite good. Well this family was a cop family the mother, father both were cops and their children wanted to be cops so I was quite unlikely around them but I was enjoying it I was happy, I was like in a family after a long time.
Well they say god is omnipresent, maybe, but I am damn sure that Lucifer is too omnipresent. I can’t say it was my fate which took me down but the fact that I was sitting in the best hotel of the city, it was freaking obvious that if mamba comes out for dinner, he will come here and that bastard did. He sees me and pulls out his magnum 37.8 caliber, gold plated, the most expensive gun in its genre and tries to shoot me well I dogged one ,and I just went for cover, it just slipped my mind that I was sitting with a family, soon I realized the bullet I dogged had hit the small girl, I saw the eyes of that little angel the stoned eyes, time stopped, after a more than a decade a tear came from my eyes, time stopped for me not for mamba the whole family was dead and I was still breathing having two guns by me given to me by the cops I stood up and pulled the trigger first shot mamba dead I wasted two more bullets on him then I fired everywhere else killing his apprentices. Then I kept it on my head and pulled the trigger, the magazine was empty by then. God came and said to me your life is worth all of theirs the kids and their parents and you want to kill yourself. It was my natural reaction to try to save myself from the bullet but I actually shot the little girl, I was dead then and there, I don’t know what was carrying me but I took mamba’s gun and took off.
When I came to my senses I was in a hospital well I had dogged around 10 bullets that day but I caught four bullets too, because of which I was here, I am the mafia king now, how did that happen, well mamba was from Africa and the gold gun of his represented him or his position which was owned by me now. so I was the new mamba, yes, even I was surprised mamba was not his name it was the name of his position, the two month extended coma made me for a second forget those innocent faces but I had to redeem myself, well I could not have but I had to make their sacrifice worth something and I wanted to change things I wanted to take from the rich and give to the poor and stuff like that; but as I said I don’t know about god but Lucifer is omnipresent for sure and my dream broke and with me falling from the bed of that luxurious hotel. I went down for the dinner in the hotel’s restaurant and the same things happened. Same family, same little angles, just this time I didn’t dogged any bullets rather I took one right in the heart. Well I may have died but that one moment was more than all I ever lived. I saw the little girl’s eyes this time I saw fear and tears but they had life and I had done something good for the very first and last time in my stinking life, see you in hell.

India is Nailing it ..........

It Ain’t Over...

Nothing to read nothing to write,
Now it seems I am really bright.
But finally relived from my plight,
I am really happy to end this fight.

The fight with books,
Had me off my hooks,
I don’t know how I survived,
Now all I want to do is glide.
Glide in the fresh air
And show my real flair.
Now I want to have an affair,
Because after the fight everything is fair.

But somewhere down inside I know
The winter is far, it is fake snow.
It ain’t the time to hibernate
It’s just the time to sate,
‘Cause the war ain’t over.
We will again have to hover
In the streets of books,
Where we will look like crooks.
So live the moment to the full
So have fun and don’t be dull.
‘Cause this time ain’t coming back
What we don’t have now we will always lack.
So get ready and say bon voyage
Let’s to something to make it large……………….

Brain Messes it!!!!!!!!!!

Hell!!!!!!!!!!! .Well I agree not a very good word to start off with, but today watching the dark blue-black sky turning into whitish-pinkish orange sky it hit me that our brains rather “brain” in general always messes up with beauty and serenity, every freaking time. Now you should be thinking that how in the name of god, it hit me by seeing the sky change its color and texture in a very gradual but continuous way(I cannot help explaining the phenomena ,it was that good, I just had to tell about it), when I was mesmerized due the scene of orangish sunrays only confined in a patch on a building at dawn, the damn brain came in and broke my imagination and he/she had brought his Newton and Einstein with him/her and said it’s not magic, nothing is so called “divine” in this phenomena ,it’s refraction and reflection of light, I don’t even like the words damn it. It messed up with my whole childish imagination, this brain of ours always comes between dreams , creativity and the emotional side or the “soul” side or what so ever you may call it, it messes up all the time.
Not just this, take anything else, like say, art, if I see a painting I have two ways to go. I go into my imagination tunnel and have a refreshing and enjoyable slide through it and imagine the painting or perceive the painting in any way I want to. If we go this way then we will like all the paintings because we are imagining it to be something, which is purely, based on our imagination just the canvas or in physics language which our brain understands “frame of reference” is provided by the artist. The other way is I ask the artist, what is he trying to show and then tell my brain to perceive it in that way, if I can do so; well and good otherwise the artist is dumped. An artist if you ask me should be judged on the basis that his/her art can be perceived in how many no. of ways, rather than, how many people can perceive the painting in which he/she wants them to perceive and see.
Now i think that how can be something wrong with the brain, it has to be good, after all, it is the most wanted thing in the whole universe. Then where does it go wrong, where that child, where is the imagination, the childishness or the unbrainyness and the lunacism (these not approved words but I think you got what I want to say) to believe what so ever we want to, weather it is logical or not, weather it pleases our brain or not.
Logic was supposed to enter where imagination was intersecting and different people among us had to communicate with the same things and the counter inflicting thoughts had to be given a common point, something which could have explained and proved to peace off everyone. But today logic is all what we are left with and it’s not good because if even the dreams are logical, if the dreams are seen by weighing all the options present then the dreams will not be big and if dreams will not be big we won’t have a target we cannot achieve. So we will never outperform ourselves. We will never actually progress in any way because we had already decided what track to run and what position to achieve and if we already know the winner this isn’t a race and when life is not race it’s not life…………………….