Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Don't behave like......

A few days back HC of Karnataka instructed Army not to behave like a Khap panchayat. Of course Army should behave like Army, but if Army is behaving like anything, wont that makes it Army behaviour. How can army behave like Khap Panchayat? What is army like behaviour and which army is the reference here? But then, when I was told not to behave like a donkey during my school days, didn’t the same problem poured a gallon of confusion over my otherwise happy brain? I didn’t know how a donkey behaves at the first point, and I could never be sure if all the donkeys behave in a choreographed donkey-like behaviour. Which donkey was I behaving like! Had my teacher seen a donkey really behaving that way, or it was more of a second handed knowledge on behavioural patterns of ancient donkey herds?

Monday, November 5, 2012


I am hooked on my TV set. Nibbling my food in oblivion, I am staring at the news channel that is reporting a special “Saas Bahu” report on Karwachouth. There are girls, young ones and old ones, the young ones who are acting as old ones. They have their mothers and mother in laws, and aunt in laws and aunts , grandmothers and maternal, paternal antique relatives all appearing and disappearing randomly. They are covered and uncovered in sarees. Heavy saree and heavier jewellery and heaviest make ups. They are all pretty. They are going for a shoot for the next episodes in which they shall have their fast for on-screen husbands. This is going to happen on all channels so this is a national event. This entire shooting is being shot by news channel, because this is news.

Friday, November 2, 2012

Dilution with nature

When sun is sliding on the green hill,
Cold breeze floating, sending a chill.
In a heaven of beauty, someone is hissing;
A persisting pain for someone I'm missing.

A part of my soul that had fallen apart
The music, the rhythm, the beat of this heart;
I try to look at the beauty of the nature
It has to be here, some place near.

For my feeling were true, and so pretty
The way God must have wanted it to be.
It cant be lost on a dusty road side,
It has to be lost on this hill, beautiful and wide.

I pray to be broken in to pieces so small,
Be lost like a droplet of the greatest fall.
Or lost like one of the hundreds rays of light,
Glittering the peaks for anonymous delight.

I shall die to make a thousand I.
Smiles shall find a way through sigh.
Every incomplete shall complete with in;
Meeting the end where it all begins.

Sitting on the side, on a barren stone.
Meeting the brethren, apparently alone.
Feeling the bond of I and all,
Loosing the self in this magical fall.

Monday, October 15, 2012

The Haircut story

I have no set concept about my hair, i.e. I have no fixed hair style. I kind of always improvise on this over-head situation. At any given day, my hair arrangement is a democratic compromise between my wish and my hair’s will. Hair is one of my many not so eye catching attributes. As a matter of fact, I am the only one who gives a second, third and tenth look at my hair. I am mostly as much disappointed with my hair as Superman should be with his. At times people wonder: “What is that deep sadness in my dreamy eyes?” Well, it is actually the disappointment with my disobedient, reckless and uncouth hair. (Somewhat a father-son situation)

Friday, October 5, 2012

He Who Must Not Be dead :

As soon as I had finished the seventh book of harry potter, I felt a rage followed by a deep sadness for the fall of the dark lord. I was definitely too late to get this news. I couldn't now just pop up in hell and say a howdy to dark lord. I could imagine how disappointed he might be with me. I sat on a chair and started thinking about him. Slowly I went in to the deep memories of our good times.
I and Voldemort had known each other for long time. I was always a huge fan of his dark magic and the way he treated those who came across his way. Of course, he and I were great buddies too for we shared a similar sense of darkness inside.

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

laffaazz 2.0- the dork knight rises

When I came up with the idea of this blog, I thought it was going to be too good of a humour that overnight I’ll become a name every cyber bug would remember. The reality graced me with kindness sooner than I imagined and I realised I am just too good to be a success. I realised that I was so funny inside that nothing funny could come out. My words won’t do justice to my talent and if anybody needs a proof of work to appreciate me, he might have to wait till his own departure.
There was no way this blog could achieve what I, as a person deserve. Yes you can blame it on the limitation of language.
Sometimes I share the passion of a religious leader, who wants to make others believe on things he believes, without giving reason worth a peanut. “It’s for their own good!!” his mind would scream.  Same way I am more than just convinced with my own greatness, when it comes to my humour, style, and thoughts. I never gave a substantial proof in my write-ups but don't I believe it myself!!

Sunday, August 26, 2012

very short (love) story

Oh I love the idea of this love story. A boy, who was lost in his own world, sees a girl and just can’t stop himself looking at her ever since. He hovers around pretending that he is simply there for some reason. Everything in his life takes a backseat. He gets up early to catch her morning face, and he waits for night to see her in moon. He moves around her home hoping that no one notices, yet he walks slowly- God let her know I exist!  He doesn't name his feelings, but I know that he has some.

And she stands there. Like the sweetest child of nature. Eyes so lost and smile so beautiful. She also plays her  part quite well. No one knows why she stands there, if not just to catch some air. No one can know, and neither they should. The neighborhood is small, and nothing is personal.

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Leaving Behind : Part two

And so as i was telling you, I fear that my blog shall have same fate as I do as a seafarer. Last time when I went for sail, I had a funny idea that once I will come back I would join back my life just where I left it. As you can guess it din't work that way.Earth had taken an entire revolution around sun (yes I was on ship for one full year) and lot had changed in between. No, I am not implying that it all came as a shock to me when I landed up back.Every information was coming to me.It's just that you realize the changes when you come back.

Leaving Behind : Part one

And so under constant pressure of my parents, I have zipped up my bag after putting six pair of socks along with some other useless things.Socks are important, else how will I respond to my captains appeals, " Pull your socks up Shubham, you are an officer now.Stop behaving like a cadet!"  How do I know about this? Because in my cadet-ship time i have heard similar statements with replacing "officer" to "cadet" and "cadet" to "kid".And then haven't I seen my third officers getting same scoldings? So socks are important.Pull your socks up now as from here on I am going to be bore, informative and sentimental progressively and chronologically.

Oh , in the mean time you might have got some idea of my untimely departure.God bless me, may I rest in piece(deliberate mistake).So I am leaving in two days or so.For my next sail.Going on a ship is sometimes like going on a parallel universe.Especially if the ship is like the one I am joining,who seldom( read never) gets any shore and shore-leave for her staff.I wish I could tell you more about it, but my word limit shall exceed your interest.In short, where I am going, there is a strong likelihood that I would not step out of that ship for next six months.

Monday, March 19, 2012

Eloisa to Abelard - Alexander Pope,moving on

Unequal task! a passion to resign,
For hearts so touch'd, so pierc'd, so lost as mine.
Ere such a soul regains its peaceful state,
How often must it love, how often hate!
How often hope, despair, resent, regret,
Conceal, disdain — do all things but forget.

Yet here for ever, ever must I stay;
Sad proof how well a lover can obey!
Death, only death, can break the lasting chain;
And here, ev'n then, shall my cold dust remain,
Here all its frailties, all its flames resign,
And wait till 'tis no sin to mix with thine.

These are some of very beautiful lines from "eloisa to abelard" .These are say of a woman Elosia who has been abondened by her man Abelard.Landing on this passionate poem was a happy accident and one of the moments when I felt lucky to have some experience ,even if bitter. My only intention when sharing this is the sheer appreciation for the poem and the artist.For he wrote something so ageless that even after 400 years the poem connects to people of tender hearts, and that represents the basic human nature which stayed untouched from the winds of moon landings and genetic engineering. The poem is psycological post-mortem of a broken heart where the doctor gave report in most mystical, musical and elixir drenched words. Reading such a poem is one of those moments when you feel,"Oh my God this is what I wanted to say!!" Each word is meaningful and a concentrate of thousands of  emotions. That, to me, is purpose of poetry. To say in few lines what would have taken a thousand confused pages otherwise.
The forthcoming is a part which appears like an enchanted spell. The poet envies an untouched spotless soul of a virgin nun (which we can relate to that of innocent baby's) and says one of most beautiful lines ever said -

How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd;

Simply Love

i don't want to talk about it.Really.I mean love and all.Please....

you want to listen?
Let me tell you something, I know everything about it.I know all of it.The true love, the love, the lesser love..the i am not sure love, the i know its not love but i am going to pretend otherwise love, the love-lust, the lust-love, the hate-love, the cute love, puppy love, mature love , facebook love,college love, best friend turned in to lover love,i like you story, i am sorry love...

Yes!! Hilariously, our generation and i am considering the windows generation as our generation, has crapped up this beautiful feeling into a big burger and it's so disfigured that we take ages to realize what we feel. To make things better; our android generation is piling on.

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Devil's advocate...

We, people of this great democracy, have a genetic disorder of debating.We do it for the sake of it.We love it.Okay! not all of us.Here I am addressing the people who are more like me; those who are laffaazz. (laffaazz is someone blah blah blah ,read "about me")

Fruitless debates are the most reoccurring thing in our free and busy time.We start a war of words and discussion almost on every  occasion. Trust me you can find people discussing ,"if this was the best way to depart?", on a funeral.

Reader : objection My lord, author is exaggerating.
Judge : objection sustained.
Me : Okhhay!! withdrawn.

Yet, I can say we debate on any topic.From corruption to seduction, assembly election or cricket selection, railway is doing good or real bad, Anna is democratic or authoritative, movie was good or over hyped,  you-have-true -feelings or its-just-your-new-crush, she is beautiful or well dressed, global warming makes me feel hot or not, petrol is finishing or what, my job is more awesome than yours( before drinks), my job is more pathetic than yours( after drinks),  from walmart is good for economics to undertaker is better than khali.

Friday, March 2, 2012

Sun signs-part two-Sounds good!!

Picking up from where I left last time.We live in an era where almost everyone is aware of his/her zodiac sign. I, for that matter, even had a yahoo I.D. declaring me a Virgo. Of course I am one of those non -creative people who perspire profusely when they get to think of a user name that can even remotely suggest their own identity.So somehow by that time I found it very natural to go with full spelling of my name added to my zodiac with a neat underscore.It all made sense.To my consternation even that was registered which in turn forced me to add an arbitrary number.It was a shame all in all.

I don't remember how much I believed in my stars by that time , I almost never did.But I would be a terrible liar if I dare say I never looked up my horoscope.Although it never occurred to me to wear a stone or ring to improve upon my holy haphazard life. But then, a believer would insist that I am just as good as a no stone owner could ever get to.Who knows? had I been wearing precious, semi precious stones , I could own a flat on moon and bail out kingfisher airlines with my pocket money. You just never know!!

Thursday, March 1, 2012

Sun signs -part one.the two brothers.

Assuming that there is a God.Some advanced life form who first designed us as a prototype and then sent us in mass production along with million other species.He gave all his designs a subconscious reproduction instinct.You see , God is more of a Research and Development dude.He doesn't want production on his head. Would that assumed God be baffled with the nature surrounding him as much as we are.I mean he must be surrounded by something.Nothing perhaps!!So is he speculating about "nothing" as much as we do about "everything".

Although its very interesting topic to speculate about our God, here I will go little off-course.Lets try to get back to the topic.shall we?

Thursday, February 23, 2012

Archimedic implications

Any object, wholly or partially immersed in a fluid, is buoyed up by a force equal to the weight of the fluid displaced by the object.

— Archimedes

i.e. the body suffers from an apparent loss of weight equal to displaced weight of liquid when wholly partially immersed in fluid. This generates law of floatation and thus law of sailor’s life.

We lose something ,apparently, every time we sail . We lose land fun, we lose quality moments, some of us lose love, and most of us suffer from an apparent loss of character. I believe, we lose almost as much as we displace. Thousands of tons of water. Subtract a gain of money and add apparent risk, divided by on board fun and multiply it by workload.
We have a perfect equation here.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

End of a loving heart

I prayed the days be longer,
longer be the nights
though it killed me
but it felt so right.

I wanted sometime,
more in everyday.
for I had to look for
a life that went away.

I stayed low,
longer than I thought;
and sank in the darkness,
barely I fought.

I bleeded through eyes,
emptied my soul;
sinking the truths
in drunken strolls.

And hate sank in,
along with some guilt;
crushing me together,
in sleepless quilt.

 beliefs and faiths
and rotten talks,
deceitful promises
and toxic walks.

Nothing stayed right,
nothing seemed wrong.
Yes, i broke down.
I wasn't that strong.

But it's been long
crying and moping,
pretending to all
that i'm not hoping.

I left my bed
crumpled with tears,
came out of closet
though, having some fears.

Yes its not same,
the world I've known;
with all these wounds
and feelings I've grown.

So I left a loving heart,
with a cheerful smile.
its good to be practical
once in a while ..


It's been a very long autumn,
yellow leaves on muddy ways
bare trees sank in thoughts,
searching life in passing days.

Life ,in itself, has lost the meaning.
I am in groove of eat and sleep
and some work and some money,
and some smiles,hollow indeed.

I want a tear that melts my soul.
I want a smile to heart that sleeps.
I want a fire that glows across,
burning the indiffernt,cold in deeps.

I need a meaning, I need a reason.
I need a spring in this endless season.
I need a cause,a faith, a passion,
a reason to breathe,an inspiration.

There is a Sailor!!!!!

we are sailors. Though i have just a year's experience at sea and have been sitting at home counting stars for ages after that, still there are moments every day I get to know that somehow land is not a place where I should be found.

People around me are curious. They look at me and think about my eating habits. They have never been with such a creature like sailor. They have questions.Does he have fins? Does he go underwater? And so on. But they can't ask that!!So they follow an age old questionnaire. ”Things to be asked to a sailor as soon as you spot one on land.” It’s never changing. These are the same questions which Columbus had to answer to his/her highness back in England and Sindbaad to future oil owners. Whenever they returned to their home land they had to..Of course all in a good spirit..People are curious.

Satanic Praises

People are sensitive.Their leaders are very sensitive. On behalf of us they (the leaders) get offended by as much as everything around the globe. Once they get offended (for us), they organize their support to get furious on subject matter and start offending public property and public places by burning news papers, books, posters, banners, tickets, passes, buses, bikes, cars, oil drums, matchboxes, cigarettes whatever can give flash and smoke...whatever comes free or at tax payer’s cost.

Burning hearts and souls, all for the cause.

Train Of Thoughts.

The ill omen to Mumbai journey was evident when one of our reserved seat in gareeb rath was the innovative “side middle berth”. Though you can manage to sleep on it in with the flow of ongoing disappointing life, dining in that tiny space with the third (unknown) person sitting is not gem of an idea. Luckily some of the berths were not yet occupied and so we decided to shift our dinner plans on those untouched places. While we were yet stuffing ourselves with lukewarm food we just bought, the train slowed down to accommodate more human beings. An air of discomfort got mixed with the smell of our overpriced food. We didn’t want to see the rightful occupant of the seats just now. Our mouths were too filled to say much and the table was little dirty for their mineral bottles. With grace of hypothetical God no one joined us but this started a better dinner conversation.

We started talking on how people react when they see someone sitting on their reserved seat the moment they board. Discussion went on to the way they assert their right and other related topics. There is one kind who is always sweating. Journey has never been good to them and they have a phone waiting for them. They have to inform their kin and kiths about their safety and security the moment they can place themselves on their month ago reserved seat. The person is always well aware of his berth and coach but as soon as he finds someone on his place he takes out his ticket and reads to himself (only little louder than required) the printed seat number. “B 13...umm forty twooo.. forty three” ,he says to himself and looks at the person sitting. There are some who have a little resemblance to these ones but with a slight difference. As soon as they come close to their berth they start talking among themselves about the seat number they got. All should know, this is where we have the seat!!!Then come those who are coming to see off some of the ladies and they have higher responsibilities than Baba Ramdev might assign to himself. They are little more aggressive and they keep on instructing their well informed ladies about the seats by pointing their fingers and suggesting them the plans to sleep there at convenient time. They keep repeating instructions followed by “okay” in respective language and dialects and they ensure female reservation to be functioning at its best. Few fellows are meek and confused and I fall in the category on my better days. These poor creature would just stand for a while looking at the fellow, trying to realise the gravity of situation. They would fear the ones in waiting list and open to proposals to shift their berths in order to work out tedious permutations and combinations of families which got separated by Indian railway’s booking system. They would wait and watch and would share the seat of someone nearby uncomfortably. They have their nightmare if the intruder is already asleep and would start making strategies if the person happens to be a lady of a nearby berth year, in which case a gentleman is screwed between morals and imaginations.

However the people who are portrayed as worried here are not so pointless. Not long ago getting your own seat was not so easy. Often people had to share the space against their will. Often they had to try to sit in that place. Sometimes they had to fight to fit in their own seat and face the glare, had they shown any intentions to sleep. But things have gotten better these days. Now we respect reservations more than we used to earlier (smart comment??). Now journeys are better and more on time. Now we don’t have to fight to sit once we have our name on the chart and people who couldn’t get it that way are more polite than before. One of the ways we can see our progress as a society. Anyways I should not try to pile on this topic. But on a similar note I noticed that new coaches in train are not as much wall painted as earlier. Good for nation, bad for the bored pooping fellow.

Koi nahi yar.

Apart from doubtfully developing attitude, knowledge and skill (our college motto), I most certainly developed some of my never fading friendships during my TMI (Tolani Maritime Institute) time just like anyone else. With a close friendship inevitably flourish some jokes, some jargons, some looks and some feelings which have no meaning out of that confined group.
One such phrase took a breath in my never ending conversations with Deepak Jain (name published accidently) and stayed with us and with some more like us.

You see, we had a lot of problems with us and probably (most certainly) with me. Every now and then something would go wrong, or we would feel that it had gone wrong. I am not sure what started the phrase but I am assuming a bad (relative) grade might be one of the root causes. We would discuss the situation at length and finally one would say “koi nai yar”, and other (the one in problem), with a semi doomed semi understanding semi frustrated semi positive face, would come back with, “koi toh nahi hi”.

Paani poori

Every time when I eat a plate of “pani poori” in Mumbai I keep the bill for income tax purpose. Not only the price makes me cry but the unsatisfied tongue reminds me of Kanpur where people mastered in making wonderful pani poori( pani ke batashe actually) .I am sure other places in U.P. might also be equally competitive in this spicy industry. Every locality there has couple of grand masters of chat and batashe and they keep it cheap yet the best. In my childhood we could have 4 of them at a rupee and sometimes for even less.

A particular shop was known among its admirers as baba batashe wale. Baba himself appeared very unhygienic and people used to speculate about the occasions he would take a bath. Since he lived very near to my house and preferred a public bath, I had the opportunity to confirm that he took a bath almost as frequently as a gentleman would. However, somehow water never had desired effect on him and hence the dirty tales.

Saturday, February 11, 2012

Awkward!! love it

Remember When you laughed with laughter track and your friend, who just like you missed the joke, asks you “what he said??” . The feeling of "what to do next?".

Among many other feelings, feeling awkward is somewhat underrated. It’s not the most beautiful love, it’s not the dreaded fear. It’s not the deep sadness or profound loneliness. It’s neither respected nor consoled. Neither enjoyed nor condemned. It stays alone, neglected.

Having said so ,I can’t stress more that awkward moments are just around the corner. Anything and everything can become awkward like orange pants, if timing is right(or wrong??). your fun Punjabi ringtone buzzing at a wrong place, few drops of water wetting you pants absurdly, your style icon smoke clouding in front of long lost uncle, having a 500 rupee note for a metro ticket counter, your friend typing queen’s language on a chat when your mother is standing behind you, your recent items on computer, your recent SMS to your Ex. , your over reaction, your under reaction, your no reaction, your yes reaction, God the list is long!!! Everything can become awkward. Why hell, even appreciating SRK is awkward these days.

And yet it’s left alone. No poem for it, no songs...no likes on facebook ,no awww ,no oooo.

What follows awkward, is an equally awkward silence.