Coorg and growing up

This weekend was my life being telecasted from a candid camera onto a funny channel. A weekend which would have made the makers of each and every sitcom in the world, the funniest episode ever made. The only difference is that instead of reading the lines from well crafted scripts with the hope of things becoming better, i read scripts made of pain and ego...with no hope of seeing the future in the next episode. In fact, there seemed a lack of some weird level of friendship and foes.

Going through the entire 36 to 40 hours, i could distinctly see similarities with the infamous episode of Seinfeld. Well, atleast in that episode all love lost between George and Jerry was fast resolved, understood and worked upon by the end of the episode. In fact, while returning from the horrible trip of wherever they went...they decided to gift each other a girl for each other. I love George Constanza.

“Break ups are easy...you live it, feed on to it and then hang in a strip bar and forget the sweat pants you had been wearing for 3 whole weeks.” Ah, genius Joey. In my funny episode, there is tears, panting, begging, anger, hate, bitching...fuck, you name it, its there. The highlight would be the drunken ass bickering about how life turned upside down for nothing but a simple world of pleasure and fun. Oh, and there is the confession kept well secret to avoid running out of ideas for the next few episodes. Turmoils of a plain old insignificant life is always the fun the world has come to laugh about.

Sadism is cruel and a sin...think, Eric Forman said it to Hyde in one of their many circles in one real funny episode of That 70s show. It’s so goddamn true, ain't it? Think about it, which were the most popular seasons of That 70s Show. The ones in which Eric and Donna had broken up or the ones in which they were together. Without uncertainty, i can say my favorite episodes were the ones in which Eric was miserable as a goat eating grass..or smoking them. Ha, the sadism trait of laughing at plain old miserable fucks are much more funnier. In my episode of the horrible trip, its all there. Well, not sure though of ending of the season, i tell you.

I love Barney Stinson...oh i really do. His ideas and devices to sleep with any moving object [girls] make him a hero among lost guys trying to find a right...whatever that is...girl. I envy the makers of How i met your Mother for trying to hook him with Robin. If that happens, it would be a perfect murder to the show i say. Let Barney remain just as he is right now...living for the moment. Speaking of living in the moment, i lived a moment of my own too. Well, in fact a little too much i guess.

They say, if you are ready to die for a moment, most people, i guess 99.99% of the people would shave away the idea and go straight ahead to leading a happy and nurturing life. I tried to die, and lived to tell everyone about it. It was fun to a hell lot extent...except the fact my dean screwed me for it. A moment changes everything i find nowadays. Maturity does this to young men. Philosophy entwines itself to every move of humans.

With all philosophy of life, at this moment, i know...that moment came and should have just blown away. It should have mellowed away with time, instead it stuck there like a storm. Hurting everyone and screwing with everyone’s cool breeze of the summer. It was odd...it felt nauseating...it felt cursed...it felt jinxed...it didn't feel good at all. Normally, on these circumstances, my funny side just gets turned on and plays a karaoke of funny jokes. It makes me happily high on its own....and for a while i did feel like my own personal karaoke jokes machine will save me. And i tried to instill the lyrics of the jokes to everyone around...till the machine got squashed. Leaving my humiliated and sadly without anything. That’s when i learned a new emotion eniterly mine. Its a emotion i know nothing about. Its was like an emotion hanging between introspection of another man....and looking inside to find that not everything can be compared to sitcoms. Somethings are not made up and scripted...like the trip.

When i was 18 or 19...i dreamed to sing a song with a girl under a non-stop rain on the beach of Chennai. I did it and found it amazingly stupid. First of all, you cannot kiss on a public beach and plus...you can catch a damn cold from the girl. During the trip i wanted to get to know some people who i know little about...i wanted to see how life was of a friend long gone in the future...wanted to know someone in normal times while not talking about crap shit work. Guess what i found.. all the fucking negativity of theirs. Its not their fault. Its our human nature to kill...stretch...act stupid...think low and high...

Ego? What the fuck is that? I know i have it around somewhere. Apparently when things go wrong, i use it. English language actually gave a word for it? Its not an emotion nor a state of mind. Its apparently a hidden entity or a subdued feeling? God, how did it come to play. I don't believe in Butterfly Effect. I have lived by the principle of let live and let die. So when moments arrives i am there, and when it starts to fade, i say sorry and let it die. But how does butterfly effect making me write this...we had knocked on a practical joke and 2 days later i am writing this with a ache slowly but steadily making me grow and find new absurd behaviors of humans. Ha! Think i do live in a world where god is watching our episode of “Trip from Hell” and laughing away to glory. Its like that part of the sitcom episode where the commentator of these sitcoms commenting about new stuff learned by him about his friends and families. Whoa, i am the commentator today. Hurrah!

Well, don't think there is going to be another episode of ours again. Well not soon though.

Near the shade of the green and hills of brown,

By little streams of water and coffee and tea filled gardens,

Chilled by the playmates showering in soothing moves,

New old cold hands slapped, which made no sense. Ill prudence.

Silence seemed a passion, the storm tearing us apart,

Drops of tears saved for happy moments turned upside around,

Nice going big guy, now all he stood is an insignificant blur,

Pass me a cigarette while i call you a bloody fucking motherfucker.

Was listening to "Scarborough Fair / Canticle" by Simon and Garfunkel