Since I m leaving this place tonight, its only fair that one of my posts is dedicated to some of the experiences here. Ok first up, this is a MINDBLOWINGLY BEAUTIFUL country. It is like a more modern version of Goa actually. And the people are THE NICEST ive ever met. I swear to you, they go out of the way to be nice and helpful man....its damn cool. However there exists that one perennial problem, which goes by the name LTTE , which makes this a wierd place at times. So here are somethings that can happen to you (which basically means theyve happened to me).........
1) The first journey from the airport can be very disconcerting. You have the sea near the road, palm trees and other trees................and armymen with uniforms which blend with the vegetation. In fact, the camouflage can be so good that if you dont focus (and youve woken up at 4 am for the past 2 days), you can find yourself believing for a moment, that the trees have black faces painted on them and talk to each other.......and then you laugh at yourself and feel stupid.
2) You come out of a mall, and there will be a poor old crippled beggar. You move on coz youre so used to it in India. Then that guy calls out and argues in sophisticated english as to exactly why you should give him the money. After a few minutes, you realise that you come off as the beggar coz you arent willing to part with Rs.10, so you just give in and put some money in that gloating blackguard's pocket, feeling stupid (oh ya, he doesnt have a bowl, he tells you to put the money in his shirt pocket)
3) You are just walking around 2 km from your house (which is only abt 10 minutes from the president's house, so it is actually a prime locality), and you come across an armyman shooting at somebody or something (and that somebody or something is shooting back). No time to see who it is, you just run, praying that youre not hit by a bullet, and that you dont wet yourself, at the same time, and then coming home and feeling like an utter pussy. Hey, bullets sound much louder in real life from a sub machine gun, than they show it to be in the movies.
4) You happen to be coming out of a mall, happy coz you ve just seen a movie. And then an armyman appears and talks in Sinhala. You talk in tamil, then english. He recognises that you arent a local........and then asks where youre from. "India". "Ok sir, can I see your passport". Then you politely explain that no sane person will walk all around the place with his passport, and then he starts arguing with you. You have enough and you say "Teri maa ka bhonsda" and pray that he doesnt know hindi (he doesnt), n then tell him to come home to see it. He looks for a few minutes and then walks away staring suspiciously. Geez, do i look like a terrorist????? I mean which self -respecting terrorist walk around in the mall in 3 quarters, a loose t-shirt and slippers????? where does he expect the gun is, up my ass?????? sunovabitch.
5) You spend the evening of your own birthday, in the birthday party of a 6-yr old kid, and teach him how to use the remote control of a car he got as a gift. And then, next week, you go to Bentota with the same family (which is Pakistani btw). There being no space in the car, that 6-yr old prick sits on your lap.....to-and-fro......which is 6 HOURS. And he has no respect for the fact that youre human....he wriggles, lies down, moves around, trying to find a position where he can sleep off in. He manages, and then you spend an hour preventing him from falling sideways and crashing his head (much against your own free will). If that wasnt enough...he pulls u into the sea with him coz he is scared, and you end up protecting him from the waves. (The good thing abt that trip was that i was allowed to drive for a while.......and that car was a NISSAN CROSSBOW.....muahahahahaha)
6) Family hosts a party. Noone drinks at home (with a possible exception of me), yet dad buys booze for his friends. So the fridge has 12 bottles of bear, 2 litres of vodka, n 1 litre of whisky.........with your mom going mad about it. And then you end up taking care of a bunch of sodding, raving, drunk motherfuckers.......who are all your dad's age .(which means you cant abuse them, man that was awful).
7) Most embaressingly, if you look like me, your dad's friends confirm whether youre really his son.......coz you look TOO SRI LANKAN.......damn you Lasith Malinga !!!!!!!!!!!! (oh and you tend to take drastic measures to prevent that, like going bald.......:D)
There are some other random incidents that can happen to you......however, im really not in a mood to type much more. Plus its getting late.....I have to go to the Indo-sri lanka cricket press conference in 10 minutes, which means i might get to meet the players........muahahahahaa................adios suckas.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
NIGHT OF THE REAPER
First of all I wanna tell you that I was challenged into writing this poem. My friend said that I cant write gore, just coz Ive never done it before. Well, this is the result. I dunno if you'll like it. But give it a shot...............
The assassin's eyes glittered beneath the mask, lifeless and cold
At the unsuspecting prey, pathetic, if truth be told
The cold feel of metal, was a feeling to be savoured
An aphrodisiac, addictive and flavoured.
As she stood in the shadows, taking in many details at a time
She giggled inwardly, as he sang a nursery rhyme
His great, bare belly wiggled as he rose
And a feeling of disgust in what she was gonna do arose.
She was a murderer who fancied herself as the reaper
And in this abyss of madness, she plunged ever deeper
She had hacked seven people in as many days
Emboldened did she feel by the moon's strong rays.
The man sat again, unaware of his awaiting fate
And she chose this moment, to give in to madness and hate
Purposefully she moved, the scythe held strong in her hand
As a gentle breeze blew across the land.
She tapped him, he turned, and his eyes widened with fear
Mouth moving, but making sounds so unclear
The thin blade flashed, the severed arm fell with a plop
As the now red blade prepared with its next chop.
The man was a coward, helpless in his fright
As she poked the blade in one eye, the right
It punctured, and hung out, supported by many a valiant muscle
As he began to crawl, to beg and to hustle.
She chopped off and ear, it fell, a dead diseased looking thing
Thoroughly enjoying herself, she began to sing
The fatso screamed, he moved, he writhed and he wailed
For under this vision from hell, all his senses failed.
The next cut was deep, it was right in the tummy
And the fully grown man started to scream for his mummy
She plunged her hand in, and pulled out an intestine
As she said "Fool!! I am the Reaper, and you are mine !!"
He puked, as he tried to scream
Coz of pain, and fear, and blood oozing out in a stream
She let go, the intestine was visible, hanging out
His stomach now looking like a red waterspout.
She knew he was dying, she was thoroughly sad
Because he was the most entertaining victim she had ever had
She slit his throat, and heard him gag and gasp
And she felt heady with the power of death in her grasp.
She calmly drew away and watched him bleed and die
As the puke and blood, attracted the first fly
She swaggered off into the night, happy and having had fun
There was work to be done, the reaper's job was never done!!
The assassin's eyes glittered beneath the mask, lifeless and cold
At the unsuspecting prey, pathetic, if truth be told
The cold feel of metal, was a feeling to be savoured
An aphrodisiac, addictive and flavoured.
As she stood in the shadows, taking in many details at a time
She giggled inwardly, as he sang a nursery rhyme
His great, bare belly wiggled as he rose
And a feeling of disgust in what she was gonna do arose.
She was a murderer who fancied herself as the reaper
And in this abyss of madness, she plunged ever deeper
She had hacked seven people in as many days
Emboldened did she feel by the moon's strong rays.
The man sat again, unaware of his awaiting fate
And she chose this moment, to give in to madness and hate
Purposefully she moved, the scythe held strong in her hand
As a gentle breeze blew across the land.
She tapped him, he turned, and his eyes widened with fear
Mouth moving, but making sounds so unclear
The thin blade flashed, the severed arm fell with a plop
As the now red blade prepared with its next chop.
The man was a coward, helpless in his fright
As she poked the blade in one eye, the right
It punctured, and hung out, supported by many a valiant muscle
As he began to crawl, to beg and to hustle.
She chopped off and ear, it fell, a dead diseased looking thing
Thoroughly enjoying herself, she began to sing
The fatso screamed, he moved, he writhed and he wailed
For under this vision from hell, all his senses failed.
The next cut was deep, it was right in the tummy
And the fully grown man started to scream for his mummy
She plunged her hand in, and pulled out an intestine
As she said "Fool!! I am the Reaper, and you are mine !!"
He puked, as he tried to scream
Coz of pain, and fear, and blood oozing out in a stream
She let go, the intestine was visible, hanging out
His stomach now looking like a red waterspout.
She knew he was dying, she was thoroughly sad
Because he was the most entertaining victim she had ever had
She slit his throat, and heard him gag and gasp
And she felt heady with the power of death in her grasp.
She calmly drew away and watched him bleed and die
As the puke and blood, attracted the first fly
She swaggered off into the night, happy and having had fun
There was work to be done, the reaper's job was never done!!
Sunday, June 29, 2008
BOREDOM
Obviously apt, because this is a phenomenon dictating many of our lives......
It starts with a 'b' and ends with an 'm'
It is like a tree without a leaf, a bark or stem
In that it is not tangible, it does not physically exist
But it envelopes us, a coccoon, a cyst.
You lie motionless for hours, willing interest to enter your mind
But in the end all you achieve, is expelling gas from your behind
And you even giggle at it, repulsed at how you find it funny
And then you see it, the computer, your aide, your honey.
With new resolve u rise, switching it on and opening your inbox
But the %^^&$#$ MTNL router, is a ^%%&ing jack in the box
It conks off, grinning at you with nonblinking lights
And you sit despondent, feeling violated off your rights
You finally raise yourself, and decide to go outside
Only to find that your energy, has been drained, or has decided to hide
And you are now firmly back to square one
With not a squat of an idea on how to have fun.
You scratch yourself, you get up, you sit
And find that this is not amusing you one bit
You realise that youre defeated, and that thought aint funny
The macho man has been reduced, to a fluffy pink bunny.
You silently acknowledge, this wraith's unbelievable power
To make every second, seem like an hour
This fiend that has reduced you to a spat out pint of rum
That (censored) whose name is BOREDOM
It starts with a 'b' and ends with an 'm'
It is like a tree without a leaf, a bark or stem
In that it is not tangible, it does not physically exist
But it envelopes us, a coccoon, a cyst.
You lie motionless for hours, willing interest to enter your mind
But in the end all you achieve, is expelling gas from your behind
And you even giggle at it, repulsed at how you find it funny
And then you see it, the computer, your aide, your honey.
With new resolve u rise, switching it on and opening your inbox
But the %^^&$#$ MTNL router, is a ^%%&ing jack in the box
It conks off, grinning at you with nonblinking lights
And you sit despondent, feeling violated off your rights
You finally raise yourself, and decide to go outside
Only to find that your energy, has been drained, or has decided to hide
And you are now firmly back to square one
With not a squat of an idea on how to have fun.
You scratch yourself, you get up, you sit
And find that this is not amusing you one bit
You realise that youre defeated, and that thought aint funny
The macho man has been reduced, to a fluffy pink bunny.
You silently acknowledge, this wraith's unbelievable power
To make every second, seem like an hour
This fiend that has reduced you to a spat out pint of rum
That (censored) whose name is BOREDOM
Jumping on the bandwagon
Yep, I am the latest in the long line of friends who has decided to experiment with blogging. I think i will rephrase........this is the only stone left unturned in my quest to combat boredom in these seemingly endless vacations. I have no idea about how regular Ill be, or about how long Ill actually maintain this blog. But as of now (8:17 PM, 29th June, 2008), this blog does exist. Ok frankly I am at a loss about what to write right now.
Maybe I should tell you that the lights in my external harddisk are yellow and are currently blinking. Oh wait, even a 3 eyed crossbreed of the sasquatch and a 500kg nuclear holocaust survivor with absolutely no social life will not give a rat's ass to actually know that.
How about......... umm...........aargh...........I am typing random keys and then typing the equal number of backspaces............or..........my nails measure 1.3 cm right now..........or............the fan is currently set at speeed 4 of 5.....or.................or............................or.............................woohoooaaahaa.....booga booga, arrrpatpatpat......................kheekheee...............aoooooooooooooooo...................kreeaaaooonnnnnn....... bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.....................aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa (faint thud)
And that, fellow jobless people is a prime example of the degradation of the human brain put through too much strain (hey thats a rhyme......:P..................note to self, maybe the next post should be a poetry, but then after this one......i dont think any of you is gonna be around to read it)
Cheers......(or not)
Maybe I should tell you that the lights in my external harddisk are yellow and are currently blinking. Oh wait, even a 3 eyed crossbreed of the sasquatch and a 500kg nuclear holocaust survivor with absolutely no social life will not give a rat's ass to actually know that.
How about......... umm...........aargh...........I am typing random keys and then typing the equal number of backspaces............or..........my nails measure 1.3 cm right now..........or............the fan is currently set at speeed 4 of 5.....or.................or............................or.............................woohoooaaahaa.....booga booga, arrrpatpatpat......................kheekheee...............aoooooooooooooooo...................kreeaaaooonnnnnn....... bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.....................aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa (faint thud)
And that, fellow jobless people is a prime example of the degradation of the human brain put through too much strain (hey thats a rhyme......:P..................note to self, maybe the next post should be a poetry, but then after this one......i dont think any of you is gonna be around to read it)
Cheers......(or not)
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