Pointless rant

You stare blankly at the laptop screen! You gotta write something when you’ve opened the empty space on the blog to type. ABCD!! I go blank. No lazy bum, a poem won’t do today. You feel empty and gotta fill the stomach with words. Time to quench the thirst. Short story!! Let’s keep it for another day. A tale of die another day. As if, the countless blogs read is not serving enough food for fodder.

Wanna write a personal post! Scratch the greyish cells in the brain. Let’s go up close and personal. This will do and bearing the heart out at a minimalist level makes sense. Ha!! I am ranting. What happens when you reach your late 30s somehow and you are suddenly unemployed, constantly looking for a job that will pay the bills? Hey, blogging doesn’t pay a dime, at least not in my case. It hurts the most when you earn peanuts as savings!! It keeps harping into your mind that you must act fast.

You desperately ping your friends for any freelance stuff that they may know and pinning on bare minimum to ensure that you can pay your bills in a timely fashion. See! I have always been okayish when it comes to networking with contacts despite being a media professional. There are folks who are good at it and through the sheer power of networking end up landing with a couple of jobs cum assignment offers. I am bad at it, time to face the devil. Invited to a party!! It makes me happy to introduce self and try speaking to people but after some point, I go point blank. After all, for how long you’d chatter your way to people. It gets boring. I lack the gift of the garb.

At the risk of sounding like a whiner, it’s not me to go and break the ice with someone. I may do it a couple of times but I prefer it the other way round when people introduce or approach me. There is no way for me to act like a social butterfly when I am not one. I wished!! Be the gregarious one, flit comfortable in a party or networking event in a charming manner. But, that’s not me! I do maintain a safe distance at times and there are days when I wished that human interaction was buried somewhere in my otherwise boring existence. I just abhor the human interaction and would prefer speaking to myself.

Sitting and facing the laptop is quite a glamorous activity that works for me big time. It has its own perks of typing something pointless on the account that I need to blurt out some rubbish.  To be fair, I need to vent but don’t think of doing a fine job, right now. It got to be the most mediocre post. You suddenly feel creative but the end product seems to be all fucked up and messy. It could have been better narrated with the (un)happening things in my life.

Time is running out for me. At this point, I am still unsure whether I’ll participate in the A to Z blogging challenge, though I am game for it. I am yet to decide on the theme which is an irony since I am a temporarily stay at home dude, working on a start-up venture with a friend.

Guess that it! For wise folks must be mulling that a worthless blog post shouldn’t be long for they will put people to bed. Better finish the book for there are plenty of them lining up for review rather than expanding lengthily on this plain and dull post.

Cheerz

V

 

 

Freedom

Clipped Wings.

Darkness revealed.

Jailed mind.

Illusion of the defeatist.

Conquer fears.

Get up.

Brush up dirt thrown on the face.

Unfetter the chains.

Hum the song of life.

It’s called freedom.

Free the soul.

Embrace the light flowing.

Be the sparkle.

Seek clarity.

Walk the tight rope.

Embrace change.

Beat the path made of thorns.

Be a seeker.

Explore the soul.

Fly high above the mundane.

Test your weaknesses.

Stroke the heart.

Love with passion.

Jump in the frozen water.

Close your eyes,

stand on the cliff.

Flirt with freedom.

 

 

 

 

 

Book Review: her resurrection journeys in the world of Mayas

BOOK REVIEW: her resurrection

By Soumyadeep Koley

Released by Gargi Publishers

Rating: Three and a half

When Soumyadeep contacted me for the review of ‘her resurrection’, the first thought that crossed my mind was whether it’s just another book on the struggle of women in society. It took me a fair amount of time to start reading the book  and the moment I started on my kindle, there was no looking back.

Image credit: https://www.facebook.com/thejourneyofmaya/

At a glance: Soumyadeep Koley has hit at the right nail in his depiction of Maya, an unwanted girl, who finds herself in the dark and underbelly lanes of prostitution in Mumbai before she rose like the phoenix, as the tagline in the book aptly puts it- a journey of emancipation, reclamation, and redemption. The writing is powerful and engaging that makes the reader empathize with Maya-the unwanted child. Maya encounters a soul sister, subterfuge Siddharth, exploited by corrupt men in khaki and meets her soul mate in Damien who sets her free.

Blurb:

What is it like to be an unwanted girl child in India? What is it like to be sexually harassed at a tender age of five? After being tricked and forced into prostitution, can such a woman fight back to emancipate herself from the unyielding shackles of that life, and intermingle with the ‘society?’
So begins Maya’s story in the picturesque countryside of Maharashtra, where she grows up amidst cruelty and domestic violence, being an unwanted girl child. Yet, like a lonesome beacon beset by sinister wilderness, she pursues her dreams of reaching the stars with her tiny wings. One night, a twist of fate triggers a series of incidents, when she loses everything she had—even her virginity.
Inspired by true stories of survivors and real life events, ‘Her Resurrection’ bravely paints an appalling picture of the society. 

Narration:

The story is dark, poignant and sinister. The character, Maya, a child or woman we encounter every single day in metropolitan cities or in far-flung villages whose hesitate smile or pain hide a permanent wound that destroys their soul every single moment. The sequences are poignant and like an arrow, it pierces your heart.

“One evening, the mother came to the girl with an old, half torn doll, with which the girl played in her childhood..the mother broke the silence, ‘Let’s play bride and groom…the toy got dropped from her hand, and she covered her face as she broke down into tears, her chest heaving.” It’s a tragedy to see how a woman’s life turns into a half torn doll, robbed of childhood and exploited at every end. Powerful analogy.

The description of Mumbai and Jaipur, two cities in sharp contrast to each other is done with competence in the narration. The author explores the underbelly and poverty pockets and it shows his mettle as a writer. He describes the emotions involved, whether the communion with the aged prostitute, Saadia with utmost ease whose tenderly and motherly affection for Maya is built on hope.

The author makes a strong statement on the objectification of women through Siddharth the crooked fashion photographer during scenes in Goa where Maya is shown big dreams, posing as a model. One cannot help but feel the pain of Maya who is deprived of love, unrequited, whether it’s from her father or Siddharth, the subterfuge, who turns her down. It’s unfortunate that Maya lives in the  dark.

Soumyadeep has successfully weaved a strong character in Maya whom the world see as weak and she consider herself as a curse to human existence. The subconscious voice of Maya, perhaps an illusion reflects, “I have so many reasons to live. I have so many reasons to carry on my journey into life, leaving behind the sinister depth of the bordello, the sensual greed of Purushottam, the stabbing words of Mr Chhetri, and the subterfuge of Siddharth. Nothing can hold me back. Today, I am not alone.” Words that pricks your skin and cooks a storm in your mind. The author’s Maya has various nuances and facets to her character and dark life that she leads. Her words come as striking and powerful at a time where numerous atrocities are committed on women, regarded as inferior victims of verbal and physical assaults.

The author’s has lent credible nuances and facets to Maya in depicting her dark existence. Her words come as striking and powerful at a time where numerous atrocities are committed on women, regarded not only as inferior but victims of constant verbal and physical assaults.

‘She puts her hand on her belly and whispers to the blowing wind.”I’ll not kill you. I have enough strength to be a single mother..if you are a boy, I’ll raise you to be the perfect man who’d be made of love, who’d respect a woman, and fight for the ailing humanity of womanhood..if you are a girl, I’ll never let you come against what  I’ve been through in life..ill be your sword and shield.

These are not words but a flash of thunder , that must hit the brains of the horde of patriarchal morons who make unfortunate statements and look at women as under caste or second class citizens.

What’s Not!!!

There is a tendency for the author to depart from the main theme of the story, be it the Goa romance that makes a slight departure or the over emphasis on the functioning of the camera, nonetheless, very interesting but quite technical. I think it got to do with the fact that Soumyadeep is passionate about photography.

Final words

Soumyadeep Koley’s Maya is a tribute to women in any society and the rape victims whose soul is  ruthless snatched away from them. He explores the world of poverty, the innocent child subjected to the evils of the world and the dark cell she finds herself in. Hats off to him for pouring his emotions and everything in his first novel which is about rape victims, a rape victim who finds retribution. There is no happy ending but the beauty of the book is Maya wins when she loses her everything. Perhaps, the Nirbhaya and Mayas have a reason to cheer! Their souls will never die and they will be present in each one of us.

V

 

Dreams

Fresh Morning quilt.

Unfulfilled dreams.

Night and day became one.

Dreams and reality are like moon and earth.

Extravagant imagination is more glorious on the outside.

Anticipation and expectations giving an adrenaline rush.

Dreams of making it big make the stars feel within reach.

Fancying a life built on the highway.

Castle of imagination.

Filled with the riches and glorious wealth.

Life is not built on fancy thoughts.

Perhaps, fairy tale is an aberration.

Myriad images painted by an idle mind,

we create an existence deeply embedded in the consciousness.

Dream like a child.

Shed this adult thing.

Yes!

Fuck it off!

Norms of behaving like an adult.

We can do!

I can.

What it takes is an enormous amount of belief and illusion.

Don’t dilute the dreams.

It’s sheer passion.

Patience, determination and joyfulness.

Let’s make it happen.

Have a lovely Sunday

V

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Flash fiction: Yo! Mamma! Atta country bar!! Cheap booze

Yo!! Friday is here. A quirky flash fiction your way and editing made easy the Grammarly way. Hope you enjoy the fun take on American cowboy movies.

Yo! Mamma! Atta country bar!!  Cheap booze

Yo!! Man!! Atta boy!! The bearded cowboy descended on the grey horse and trotted on his boot to find his way inside the cheap bar brimmed with country folks boozing. Cheap alcohol!! The old cowboy slammed the wooden door to nearly trip on a chap, serenaded by two young women. “Attaboy!! You think you some dude with some hot chicks.”

“Listen, you old fart!! Just fuck off and spend the remaining days of your life in peace before hell strikes on your ugly head. For sure, you don’t wanna me play the messenger of death.” Old cowboy grew wild and brandished his revolver on dude, “Son, you think I am some Yo! Mamma joke or what.”

Bang!! Gun shots firing. Drunkards running amok in all directions.  Despair call!! Bottles of cheap alcohols exploding in the air. Cowboy face is slammed and blood oozing. He fell down and is jolted by a violent blow.  He clumsily gets and pushes dude with all his force to hit him hard on the ear. “Oh! Man! Oh Man! He whips off his ear with old cowboy white beard before pushing him hard on the wooden table. Old man pulls his gun and slams a bottle of beer on the table, “Drink all at one go, Sunny boy or else, I’ll send you  to heaven with your mermaids. I ain’t guarantee romp there.”

Dude aka Sunny Boy gobbles the whole beer bottle at one go. Cowboy face is wide open and gapes at the impressive young dude who is as perfect with women as with his drink. “Friends?” old man shook his wrinkled hand, “What an ass you made yourself today, old cowboy,” the younger man replied.!”Don’t go by my torn off face. Mine is as good as yours,” old man broke into a cackle of laughter. Both men cheered and whistled at the Arab belly dancers hired solely for the Americans in this country bar. High fiving each other, the men trotted dance steps till the wee hours of the morning. It was worth the fight and gun shots in the name of friendship among the working class folks. In the name of cheap booze!

Love

V

 

True Love

Image credit: Nitya Singh/Facebook

True love.

Selfless, soulful and a beautiful heart.

Inherent power, love holds over the mind.

Pure as white,

emotions flowing high in our consciousness.

True love is the state of ecstasy.

Being alive is love.

Loving without expectations,

it set the soul free.

Free from the shackle of bondage and prejudice,

we are seekers in this ultimate journey.

Opening our souls.

Bodies intermingle.

Yet! Passionate souls touch each other’s inner chord.

Love blows our minds.

Passion where the mind knows no reason.

True love is worthy of storms defining our existence.

Unrequited it may,

our life shall never remain the same.

Some hearts will be buried.

Evolved are the souls who lost but found themselves.

Rising above attachment.

Freeing themselves.

We may never find true love.

It will further elude us.

We are seekers on the path of true love.

A conversation kindles true love,

beyond the realm of attachment.

PS:

The poem has been inspired by this beautiful image posted by Nitya Singh on Facebook, an incredible and super talented lady.

Love

V

Romance Fiction: Boyzz like to swing

 

Image credit: Google

‘Boyzz like to swing..’She stopped the song on i-phone. “Have I heard right,” She wondered. What on earth is wrong with the record and the song? The female voice turning into an alpha male coarse voice. She was convinced that she has gone bonkers on the busy street.

She looked up to the slim, tall and handsome figure who stood unfazed as her face’s texture changed from chirpy, cheerful and clueless to aghast. Seething with anger, she was hell bent to give it to him, “Hello!! Dickhead! You think it’s funny to sing in this silly voice into my ears. Are you some obnoxious jerk who is useless and unemployed? Somehow, she controlled her emotion and spoke in a calm  voice, unbecoming of the angry young woman image she is famous among her friends.

“Excuse me,” She asked.

“You are excused,” he flirted shamelessly.

“Can I borrow a pen…You were ensnared by the music and what better way to make it a duet that boys like to swing. You don’t believe boys like to swing!!”

Now, this out-of-the-blue conversation was getting ridiculous. She made a straight face, “Of all the people, you almost scared the shit out of me and almost blasted my ears by singing just to ask me a pen. Are you kidding me?” She fumbles through her hand bag to get hold of a pen.

“A pink will do. I need to write your phone number and name, Ma’am,” he winked.

She was amused and kept walking, her flowery dress flowing with the gentle breeze. He walked alongside,”Why the need to be offended! There is a coffee shop on the way. How about two strangers, alone in the city, getting to know each other..over coffee.”

She grinned. He showed her the way with his hand wide open, trying a Shah Rukh Khan trade mark style and opened his arms. “Try me out!! I mean, I have good taste for coffee. Two capuccino,” he ordered the waiter.

“Hello!” She shouted, “Who the fuck are you? Now, you deciding the coffee flavor I gotta drink.” She called out to the waiter, “Capuccino please.”

“Aha! See, my lady. I don’t like to praise myself. Let me check with the ladies if I am a good..” Ladies! He shouted.

She slapped him playfully, “Shut up! Will you!”

“So!” She smiles seductively.

“The word so is uttered sexily when someone feels that she is going to fall in love. The killer smile and sensual gaze will kill me and singing boys like to swing is a pick up line that fades in comparison to the so! Oh! sexually pronounced,” he teased.

She cut him short, gently whispering in his ears, “Payal! Catch me if you can.” Scampering to the exit door, she rushed inside a metallic grey Skoda screeching away in full speed.

*****************************************************

It was past midnight. The bar was deserted. Manav ordered an Irish coffee and lit his cigarette. It was his third cup and didn’t realize that in no time he shifted from Latte to Irish coffee. He suddenly went blank and dark encapsulated him in the dimly lit pub, feeling dizzy and almost collapsed. Gathering his wits, Manav realized that he was hit by something that jerked him and blood oozed on his lip. It was a book flung on his face. She inched, thrust her body towards him and their cheeks stroke each other.

Payal pulled closer and smacked the blood with her lip on the upper part of his mouth. He was stunned and his eyes was fixed on her green sari with sequined gold brocade. “Shocked,” she remarked.

He innocently said “I am admiring your sari. I mean, I am not been sitting here just to dream that would land up one day to hit me with my penned book.”

“Well! I am impressed you wrote a book and dedicated it to me. Did you have an inkling I’ll fish for you? I am no Devdasi looking for some modern day Devdas, getting high on Irish coffee,”Payal pinched his cheek.

She amusingly said: “Are you thinking that I am some sort of enigma that pops in and out like in fairy tale? I am no cinderella for fuck sake or some damsel in distress longing for her Knight in shining armor.”

He blurted out  “You must be a vampire who loves to suck blood from my mouth.”

She sexily dropped her pallu,  “Did I blow your mind that you wrote a rom-com novel on me and you, imagining that we kissed and make up?” She snuggled against his knee.

“Baby! Should I call you that?” Payal spoke in hushed tone. “Aren’t you invited me to your house?”

“For what?” he asked, “Coffee.”

They laughed. “I wanna crack you raw like the coffee bean.”

The end

 

 

 

 

 

Free Your ‘Self’

Jump.

Yell.

Be mad like hell.

Shout (on the streets).

Abandon (everything).

Dance like there is no tomorrow.

Paint your face.

Make a mess of yourself

Be chaotic.

Flirt with death.

Shed the cloak of consciousness and morality.

Indulge in sins.

Break the guitar.

Write, write and write.

Sing, sing and sing.

Don’t act your age.

Be the quintessential adolescent,

you never was.

Do things fearlessly.

Tread path that chained you.

The road less traveled,

clamp your steps.

Dare and bare.

Open up your naked soul to the world.

Be brave once.

Fight your way.

Be yourself.

Walk to that stranger and hand a flower,

don’t turn around.

Break the chains of emotional attachment and bondage.

Free yourself.

With Love

V

PS: Words inspired by Ramona Arena and one of my favorite song, Sadda Haq, above.

 

Film Review: Sonam’s stupendous act and moving tribute to Neerja Bhanot

Film Review: Neerja

Cast: Sonam Kapoor, Shabana Azmi, Shekhar and Yogendra Tiku

Director: Ram Madhvani

Genre: Biopic

Image credit: Google

 

It was on September 5, 1986 that Neerja Bhanot boarded the Pan Am, two days before her birthday, as Head Purser from Bombay to Frankfurt. But, fate would have it otherwise as the brave heart felled to bullets of terrorists who hijacked the plane at the stop over in Pakistan. She was a well known face for various brands on billboards in Bombay and was a fairly successful model.

Sonam Kapoor essayed the role of Neerja, which she performed with aplomb and at her natural best. Perhaps, one of the best role in her career where she didn’t overdo the character, no doubt a very difficult one looking at the fact that she played Neerja Bhanot, the slained air hostess and brave heart that saved so many lives. Director Ram Madhvani and Producer Atul Kasbekar must be lauded for their effort to bring to life Neerja Bhanot, who was oblivious to me till the film’s release.

There is a tendency for film makers to script biopics on well known figures but there are very few or hardly any who would think of tapping brave hearts in some far off corners in India or the world who has gone into oblivion. Neerja Bhanot is one such brave ‘girl’ who didn’t abandon the plane but stayed on board to selflessly save lives of passengers and children, taking bullets. It’s only apt that Neerja has been honored not only by India but also United States and Pakistan. The makers brought her back through Neerja-the film-so that many of us could remember her sacrifice, selfless and heroic act. She died not only for her country but saved humanity.

Image credit: Google

It is very difficult to make a biopic since one can go horribly wrong by misrepresenting facts for box office collection or going the dramatic way. It’s a big challenge to make a 2 hours movies and more so, a biopic on the plane that was hijacked by terrorists. There are bound to be moments when scenes drag as the momentum or climax is reached but director Ram Madhvani made a compelling and engrossing film, where you feel that your world has abruptly stopped. It’s a movie made with a heart where you don’t see Sonam Kapoor the actor but the character she played, Neerja Bhanot. I wouldn’t describe the scenes as high emotional dose since it has not been forced on the audience. You feel that Neerja is someone you know for the sweetness of her character, kindness and human face. You cannot stop wondering what the real Neerja must have gone through during the hijack and seeing her world and dreams crumble. Had she an inkling that her world would crush or would she be saved? Was she thinking about her dreams of being a face on TV or bill boards? Certainly, Neerja is the only one who has the answers. It makes the eyes moist.

Back to the film. Director Ram Madhvani has tapped the emotions to the hilt, be it Neerja whom the family lovingly called Lado, a girl who drools over her Mom, Rama Bhanot played effortlessly by Shabana Azmi. One scene that touches the heart is when she cuddles to her mom on the bed saying, I love my job. It’s the small and tiny details that makes it a heart warming and true account. The scene where Sonam tells to the cabin crew, ‘I am Neerja Bhanot, I am your head purser for the flight today.” Sonam looks natural, effortless, lovely and cute.

Sonam is the real surprise package, carrying the movie on her shoulders from start to finish in a very lucid manner. There is no overdoing of emotions through theatrics where the actor echoes Neerja Bhanot and her transformation from a common woman who has a pained past to becoming a national hero. The actor stands tall and conveys the emotions that leaves a deep impact, whether the scene where she is frisked from top-to-toe showcasing the vulnerability of an innocent woman on duty or the frame where she cries in the washroom.

Sonam Kapoor has done full justice in her portrayal of Neerja, showing the character’s vulnerability as a human being, consoling passengers and showering motherly affections on scared children. No over the top shedding of tears or emotional outburst but a subdued, powerful and effective performance. The audience will fall in love and cry with the character played by Sonam, at times feeling that their world has stopped. The scene where everyone salutes her in the coffin is a very emotional moment that will make you shed tears.

Actor Yogendra Tiku who plays Sonam’s father Harish Bhanot has a strong hold over his act, controlled emotions and dialogue delivery where he tells his wife that the flight of Lado has been hijacked. Tiku makes us sit and watch the emotions unfurl  which pricks the skin. The director should be lauded for sketching Neerja’s character in a fluid manner and depicting her as humanely as possible, be it her fears, past as well as strengths and weaknesses. The scene where she sits like a child unwrapping the gift, reading the letter and munching the chocolate given by her love interest Jaideep (Shekhar Rajviani) has a powerful impact. The camera focuses on Neerja and Jaideep in different places munching the chocolate is done in a subdued manner subdued, yet is a strong moment in the film.

Neerja Bhanot was a fan of Kaka aka Rajesh Khanna and the dialogue ‘Zindagi badi honi chahiye lambi nahin’ from Anand reminds us about the fallacy of life and serves as a lesson not found in text books on how to hold our might in such troubling times. Certainly, Neerja will fetch Sonam Kapoor several awards and will be one of her best remembered films for she deserves all the honor cum applause for such a stupendous performance.

The real Neerja Bhanot taught us an important lesson how we can turn fear into courage and be as selflessly as possible in life. She was the epitome of courage who has carved a place in our hearts. A brave heart who lost her life at such a young age, she will always be remembered for selflessly saving so many lives. I was stumped and remained silent watching Neerja till the end, a fitting tribute to the brave heart I was recently acquainted to.

It’s the most difficult movie review I made, something I didn’t want to write and finally did it three days after I watched the movie.   It’s been 30 years since Neerja Bhanot sacrificed her life and one feels she is still with us. I bow to her. Breaking away from the traditional review format, I am not giving any stars since it will dilute the bravery of Neerja Bhanot.

There are a few glitches about the plot, shall I call it!! The terrorists look more as characters straight from the asylum and at times funny rather than dreading but it’s a minor aberration when one looks at the whole picture, standing tall in the fitting tribute to Neerja Bhanot.

Calling Neerja a cinematic gem would be something I’d like to avoid but a journey in the life of a woman, who rose to become a selfless martyr for whom humanity matters the most.

Read the letter penned by Harish Bhanot here.

 

Letter to the self

Respected Self!!

You ain’t hallucinating! Staying awake in the middle of the night when you gotta hit the sack. Over thinker! You need to stop at some point. The busiest bees stop for a while and the head cuddle under the pillow. Too much load on your tiny head. It needs a rest. Stop ranting on the fuck-ups flung by life. I know, I know!! You are very imaginative, inventing stories that are lost in translation. Execution is at a minimum and abysmal low.

Too much on your platter, right. What happened to all the dreams and shouting on the roof top that you will nail it in a year or two? Still, nothing happens for you!  That’s the problem with intelligent people like you for whom tomorrow never comes. A bad habit that you cannot break and it just blows your mind by cursing the self with the classic, ‘Ah! Had I known?’ You plan so many things in a day but you end up doing nothing. There is no point in cursing if you cannot attain one aim at a time. Haven’t you heard of the rule one by one? What! It’s still an alien concept after trying so much.

Distracted mind that keeps hovering from one thought to the other. Days, months and years showed remarkable signs of being static. You should have known it better than anyone that you need to get a good kick in your ass. Lazy bum. Stop behaving like Super Man with the hope that you will do ten things in a day competently when the result is half-baked stuffs. Certainly, you’ll swear if you are handed a half-baked cake to munch and spill your tea on the floor. Planning! Planning dude solve half of the problem. Battle the sleepy eyes, invest in self first and hit the cudgel. It seems too good to be true, na. The forever optimist soul that you are promise that you’ll stand tall and resist everything not happening. How do you crumble towards in the end? Cigarettes is a blatant example of successful failure.

Gamut of contradictions! You call yourself, Work in Progress. At some point, you can be..uber talkative and the next, you go on silent mode turning into an anti social entity over night. What guts? You give a wrong impression of self to the world. Stop pretending to be that arrogant with words..okay! You are lil bit arrogant but not that extreme. Will you stop dreaming of being a celebrity? You know it won’t happen, right. Can you be a bit more fucking assertive? That’s the least you can do. Going on silent mode will not help your cause, you know it better than I do. It again trickles down to a wrong impression of who you are in life. Be real!! Stop being conscious of what you do and don’t bother about the world. They have lot more to hide than you do. Don’t give a fuck of the fuckers. When the fuck you gonna ever learn!!

A kid in a grown up body. Maturity is not, after all, such a big and shit scary word for you. After all, better be a child keen to explore everything rather than being a pathetic adult. I am with you on that!! What’s the point of growing up? Hey, isn’t it high time to explore life, travel to places and stay somewhere that makes you happy for that life is not really yours. Hold on, anyway!! The next big thing is hiding somewhere and dig deep in the mud for the pot of gold is waiting to be lifted by your hands.

V