Are you horny?

For all the horny guys out there, please give yourself two thumbs up because I am nominating you all for the highest category of jerks that don’t shy away from honking their horns at the drop of the gun. It seems their life’s motto is to get a good job or do something that fetch good money, buy big cars, and of course honk horns on the streets. It doesn’t even matter if the streets are empty or jam-packed by traffic these bunch of jokers only know how to honk the horn. Some horns sound like a sore throat but nothing stops these morons. Some of these creatures I would like to believe derive sadistic pleasure in honking horns and puke all their frustrations and make others realize how horny they are.

All the life’s lessons are learnt on the roads literally, and when you spend a significant amount of time there you start to know that most of the people are jerks. You can’t even ride at peace because everyone here in this city have got appointments with the Presidents of the world, they want space, they want others to give them the way even if there’s not even an inch of space to glide your ass through. Zebra lights are not an exception; the very moment the light turns green I guess heavens curse them if they fail to honk it. It doesn’t matter if they can’t pass through but these unique two-legged top-notch idiots will never fail to make their presence felt by honking their hearts out. I understand you have bought your favorite car with your hard-earned money but have the grace and mercy to show that you care for the hapless insignificant others. Till date, I’ve failed to understand why people can’t resist the temptation to honk.

The reason might be endless from being an insensitive sociopath with a numb head, to being so very insecure that they think that others are driving on the roads either to bump on their cars or get hit by them. Not to even mention about those frequent defaulters who feel and believe that roads are their dumping ground and they enjoy sliding down their car windows and shooting out the wafers and bottles out of their closet. Easy, isn’t? Easier is the way people spit on the roads with such an embellishment that it requires years of practice to master it. But onus lies on you to save yourself. You have to save yourself from those who are always ready to sneak their heads out of the bus and project their spit on the non-suspecting passerby. And how can we forget those so-called ‘important’ creatures that are always busy on the roads buzzing around with their VIP sirens who don’t even know how to beg so they can get some space and pass by. Their escort gypsies will move like a mad bull, pretending to hit anyone who comes their way.

No, I am not interested in giving any solutions, coz there ain’t any. See at the end of the day you are on your own to digest your food, some things are learnt but cannot be taught. Sensitivity will come when you are in alignment with yourself. But that is a far cry.

How far and how soon Guwahati will learn, it’s a big lame question and we don’t have the answer. Imagine a city without any noise and chaos; imagine a city where everyone is living in harmony, showing empathy, and showing care not only to the fellow human beings but also showing care to the nature, the very foundation of human existence. These are Utopian thoughts and I am not being pessimist but citing a fact that ours is an immature region. Immature in all the aspects, we care less and show ego more, we flaunt and frown more but seldom smile at strangers, seldom have the time to stop and think. Just like a fever is an indication of the diseased body, all the lousy things that people do are an indication of the emotional state of the people. Long way to go people! Oh yes, if after reading till here you feel that you have been a horny person all throughout then this title is for you too!

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Celebrating death (Part 1)

Perhaps death is the only solace that one can have after the tiring and gruesome journey of life, at least one can lie down peacefully without any fuss. Perhaps he could stop complaining about life now, and perhaps people would stop expecting from the ‘dead’ body. At times they don’t even spare the dead and we would complain about them too. We get uncomfortable when we talk about death, but isn’t strange for what is to become the ultimate destination point for everyone we seldom want to talk about it. Death is permanent and yet we function as if nothing can touch, or at least we knowingly deny. Just think about it, we plan for everything but we do not plan for our death. No, I am not talking about your life insurance policy, anyway that’s of no use because the premium and the benefits are not enjoyed by you but by your family after you are long gone. After witnessing father’s demise I could not take the death of people well but gradually I grew cold about any event related with death, as in at times I don’t even know how to react to the news of someone’s death. I personally witnessed many deaths in the family leaving me with a sense of vacuum. My emotions have become so static that I can’t even shed a tear; I just feel a trembling silence, that’s it. That monologue might be coming from the realization that the thing called life is endless and when the body gets obsolete ‘someone’ just erases our memories and put us in a fresh body and push the restart mode.

I received a message yesterday being stated that Guru Ji is no more. I initially was very uncomfortable and later unsure of how to react. I am not sure but I believe he must have lived for more than 85 years. In a way he lived his life and touched millions of lives, he was a father figure to us, for my fiancé Megha and me. However, Megha was very much more attached to him than me, and more than a Guru he was her cute ‘little’ golgappa grandpa. Whenever he would make his travel plans to northeast he would call us and ask us to accompany him to various temple trips. He was a saint for me and a self-realized person, but I would keep a little distance for reasons unknown to me. Anyway, the old man reflected brilliance and he carried such innocence that can give an infant some serious complex.

But isn’t life and death similar to changing to new clothes and throwing ‘it’ away when it becomes obsolete? Both sad and happy part is probably in our next and fresh life we don’t remember how we land up in that body. It’s sad because we ought not to remember the beautiful memories, and the good thing is we shall not carry any baggages of hurt from our distant past. It’s an erased sheet which is ready to be filled up again. I see people around me talk about different topics- politics, cars, gadgets, lifestyles, and what not but I seldom hear them even mentioning about death and life, at times I do hear but more so in pseudo terms, more so in clichéd understanding of life.

With more suffering people would start realizing the ‘why’ of things and answers will be presented to them, provided we are ready to accept it or not. Until then, learning to accept death and celebrating its essence is what we can do. Gratitude!