Forever And For Always

It is one of the most elite clubs in the world. In all of history, no more than 47 members have had the privilege, the woe, and the angst to be a part of it. The requirements are stringent, the rewards include being remembered forever as a person who could not fight his or her demons. To be a part of this club, you need to be all of the following- a talented, famous musician, regarded by most as genius You also have to suffer from an addiction, and be 27 years of age. And you have to die.

Simply put, this is the Forever 27 club. It's members include legends like Jimi Hendrix, Kurt Cobain, Jim Morrison, Amy Winehouse and Janis Joplin. Factually, there is little I can tell you about their lives that a simple Wikipedia search cannot. This article isn’t about their fame, their notoriety or their mark in the field of music. From what I have gleaned from their music, I'll strive to tell you who they were.

One fact is true of all these people. They were geniuses. Each one of them had a vision, an idea to change the music industry. More often than not, they managed it. And in the end, that was their curse. They were different. It's odd that the very people who are elevated to the top of society, are never truly understood by the rest of them. These people yearned acceptance. Not in the social sense of the word. There was no event or party where they would not be recognized or even hero worshiped. They wanted true acceptance, understanding if you will, by the people who surrounded them. Their pain is all too visible. Just listen to their songs,focus on the lyrics, and you will see it as well.

Most of them came from humble beginnings, with an aim to change the world in a little way. I believe that they would have been perfectly happy without being touted as the leaders of the 'new revolutions' in music. They lived for their music, because it was all that made real sense to them. The only avenue where they could express all that worried them.

All that they were looking for was solace. As a society, we failed to give them that. So they turned to a less satisfactory substitute. One that could be found at the bottom of the whiskey bottle or the heart of the pills that they swallowed.

Kurt Cobain once said”I'm not afraid of dying. Total peace after death, becoming someone else is the best hope I've got.” This is essentially true of all the members of the Forever 27. To them, their own lives were so difficult to understand, that they yearned for one that was entirely different.

Needless to say, they did die. As odd as it may seem to rephrase a movie line- for them, peace was never an option. Even after death they are remembered . Sadly, they aren't remembered as people who strove to be normal. They are remembered as addicts who could not resist temptation in the end, and finally succumbed.

They will go down in the annals of music as people who revolutionized the world. Would it be too hard for us to remember them as people who just wanted to get along?

Love them if you want. Hate them if you wish. Ignore them if you must. But never forget them. Not the people they wished to be remembered as.

Inject The Venom

Ivan Drago. A fictional character from the Rocky world though he may have been, was still a mountain of a man. A man who is remembered for two things. 1- he got his arse handed to him on a platter by an old , washed out leftie named Rocky balboa. 2- He took insane amounts of nutritional supplements.

Nobody normally remembers the guy who comes in 2^nd place. Sports, as such, is driven by records. It’s a race, a fight, even a battle at times, to be the best of the best.

Sadly, when grit and determination just isn’t enough, sportsmen athletes turn to performance enhancing drugs.

Cheating, you say? Perhaps not. Unethical , for sure. Sports is a dirty arena. Everybody knows that. It’s been like that since the Olympics( the old ones) . Competitors would try to get their rival teams intoxicated, just so that they would not be in any position to compete during the actual event. In more recent times, broken glass would be scattered on the road used by long distance runners or cyclists, just to slow them down.

But that’s all passé. Welcome to the 21^st century. In sports, anything goes.

One can’t blame the athletes entirely though. Yes, we’ve already established that he wants to win for the glory and the fame. But you must also consider the outside pressure. Spectators want a good show. They want something unbelievable. Something that cannot be replicated at home. One would expect things would have changed since the era of gladiators. But the sad truth is, that nothing has. People want to be entertained. They want their money’s worth. And it’s up to the athletes to deliver.

Then again, it’s not always the athletes who are to be blamed. In the most recent doping scandal in India, some of the athletes claim that while they had been given un named supplements, they had no idea that they were illegal. In these cases, it’s the sporting authorities who are to answer. It’s not unheard of though. In countries like Russia, athletes are used as scapegoats. When the country itself is forcing their athletes to cross that thin moral line, then it’s rather hypocritical of the government to disgrace the athletes as well when the shit hits the fan (proverbially). It now becomes a contest of pride. Peaceful combat between countries if you will.

And don’t for a second believe that these athletes lives will remain the same. Not from the public abuse. Not from the shame. But from the drugs themselves, which ravage their bodies to a point that eventually, all they can do is pray for death to come swiftly.

There are innumerable facts to back up claims that these drugs can, in the long run, kill the users. But let’s leave the facts aside. Perhaps look at it from a moral point of view.

Should taking supplements be illegal? That depends, of course, on whether you want a good show. If you don’t , go ahead. Ban the stuff. It’s not going to stop countries from wanting the gold. It hasn’t really stopped countries like China in the past either. Or you could blur the lines a bit, turn a blind eye to what’s going on, and get entertained when the team you root for wins.

It all boils down to one simple question in the end-

“How badly do you want to win?”

Addicted to Chaos

“The man was on his knees, begging for mercy. We were inside a tent, somewhere in the desert. Beside the man lay weapons. Guns of all sorts. They were useless to him now. After all, what he could he do with them. We’d already cut off both his arms just a few hours ago. Blood flowed through open wounds, like rivulets that eventually meet in a pool at his knees.

I looked into his eyes. They were bloodshot, all the fight had left him hours ago. That defiance with which he had glared at me earlier had been replaced ……with fear. It was then that I felt the rush. It invigorated me, consumed me. With a slight grin on my face, I picked up the knife and walked towards him. This was going to be fun”

A jostle from behind brought me out of my reverie. How careless of me! I’d started daydream. Granted, one couldn’t expect much better after being 48 hours. But then again, I couldn’t afford to lose my focus now. After all the planning, we were finally here. I had a mission to complete. Sleep was secondary.

I walked through those crowded streets of Mumbai. I couldn’t have asked for a better location. People milled all around me. Each one going about his own business. Hordes of people crowded around the jewellery stores. Gems shone at me from every direction. Every shop had rows upon rows of carefully designed gold bangles, each one different from the next. On display were some of the most beautiful emerald and sapphire necklaces I had ever seen. Truly an amazing sight. Who would have thought that these crowded lanes would be the centre for most of this pathetic country’s gems trade. But then again, I didn’t particularly care. I wasn’t here for the jewels. I was here for more important business.

I took a look at my reflection in one of the store’s windows. I had to admit. The disguise was pretty good. It’s amazing what a shave, haircut, dye and a pair of glasses could do for you. My own parents wouldn’t have recognized me. Perfect.

Wearing a sweaty shirt and pants, holding onto a battered briefcase, I looked just like the hundreds of business executives, tired after a hard day’s work. In fact, there was one right beside me, buying jewellery for his wife or girlfriend. The only difference was that my briefcase didn’t contain memos or papers. Just the simplest of bombs. A glance at my watch told me all I needed to know. I had five minutes to plant the bomb, and another 5 to get out of there.

And then suddenly I was back in the tent. An old memory. It had been over a year ago. Volunteers were needed for probably the most dangerous mission we had undertaken since 2008. Attacking that city ….again. I remember standing up from among the crowd gathered there. And I had not looked back since.

Thankfully, I was brought back to my senses almost immediately. I did have to thank the fools around me. They had, inadvertently, spurred me on.What drove me to join this mission….terror. Not my own. Terror in the eyes of these hapless people who would soon be lying on the ground, screaming incoherently . I could already picture all the blood. In just a few minutes, all these beautifully lit stores would be reduced to nothing but a pile of rubble. As for the people around me. Oh, that would be my reward. They would be strewn all over, blood spurting from open wounds. And I would rejoice.

I already knew how it would pan out. In a few minutes, the abandoned briefcase would blow, hurtling people across the street. While entertaining, the gore would not be enough for me. It was after the blast that the fun would begin. For over five minutes after the blast, their senses would be disrupted. In such a crowded street, it could only mean one thing. Complete and utter pandemonium. And then the stampede would begin.

Chaos truly is a strange thing. All these men and women around me were chatting happily to each other. Shopkeepers chatting amongst each other, bemoaning the recent rise in gold prices. Children begging their parents to buy them candy from the vendor at the corner.In just a few minutes, they would be running over each other, trying to survive. A phenomenon so savage and yet so beautiful, that at times I lose my breath just thinking about it.

I chided myself for daydreaming again. This wasn’t the time. I made my way to one of the largest and most crowded shops in the area. This place had been picked as the target less than a week ago by our recon team. They had picked well. One suitcase in all this rush would not be noticed. I pushed my way to one of the counters, and slipped the briefcase beside it. I looked at my watch. I had 5 minutes to get out of there. Right on time.

Though a tad difficult, I managed to slip out of the shop, and made my way out to the main street.
It was then that I felt a hand slip into my pocket. I had been warned that this place was notorious for its pickpockets. Even then, I was furious that someone would try to rob me .If only they knew who they were dealing with.

I turned quickly and grasped the hand, making sure that the thief couldn’t get away. The wallet in there was inconsequential. It was empty anyway. But still, I wanted to take a look at the fool.

It was a young boy, no more than 14. His black eyes stared back at me with a mixture of fear and defiance. If I weren’t on a deadline, I would drag this boy to an empty street corner and give him a piece of my mind. I still could perhaps break a finger or two right there to prove a point. My judgement got the better of me though. I had to leave. Anyway, this boy would be in the blast zone. He wasn’t going to survive the blast anyway. I could enjoy his death then. Letting his hand go, I said in a low voice” I’ll let you go this once. Don’t let me catch you again” A look of relief crossed his face, and then he ran away. The fool,

I made my way up to the terrace of one of the buildings in the area. I was going to witness something wonderful. And then, just as I looked down on the streets, it happened. I felt alive.

Chaos is a chain reaction.

Disclaimer: The article written is a fictitious and therefore, probably untrue representation of the events that occurred in Bombay on 13^th July 2011. The author does not sympathize with or condone the acts of those behind the attacks.

Diabolical Imperious Evil

As addictions go, this was a rather strange one. After all, how could he explain to his friends that he was addicted to a person? To Her.

His daily routine, for the better part of three years included the following. Get up. Think of her. Go for class. Stare at her. Sleep. Dream of her.

It took him almost a year to figure out that he was , in fact, suffering from an addiction. The cruellest kind. Even an alcoholic could never get enough satisfaction from the booze, but even then, he had something. In this case, all he had was a mirage of her; not the real thing itself. After all, they were just friends.

She wasn’t someone you would normally pick out of a crowd. She wasn’t a showstopper by any imagination. At times, one might even be hard pressed to notice her. It had taken him a month on campus to notice she even existed! In one moment however, he was hooked.

It was the smile that caught his eye the first time. He could still remember the first time he saw her smile. Her lips curled ever so slightly, and then gently parted to reveal the perfect white teeth that shone in the sun. Not a promiscuous smile, but one that could make his heart melt. When she noticed that she was being watched, she came over and spoke to him. And it was the sweetest thing he had ever heard.

The next few years essentially flew by in a haze. He remembered nothing of the wild parties, the study sessions, the ragging of the juniors, the movies. No, all the remembered was her. A girl , who in a single smile, managed to captivate him.

He didn’t believe it at first. After careful observation though, he realized that it was true. She was truly evil. Behind that seemingly innocent smile and bright eyes, lay a mastermind. A puppet master, gently tugging at the strings so that the planets realigned just the way she wanted them to. Every move was carefully planned. Just when things seemed to slip away from her, she would put on that smile . That captivating smile that could break the defences of even the strongest man, reducing him to putty in her hands. And then it struck him. He too had been casually played by her. She had been using him for ages, taking just what she needed. And when was done, she would toss him away to the wayside.

On one fine day, he decided that he had had enough. Her betrayal was too strong for him to stomach anymore. This time, he would go to her and tell her it was over. He was sick of being used.

He called her up immediately, asking her to meet him at the lawns outside the mess. As he made his way to the spot, he felt strong, confident, even immune to her. Soon it would be over.

She stood waiting right where he had asked her to. And as he reached her, she smiled. And then he was trapped yet again, in a maze from which there would be no return this time.

Disclaimer: The above article is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any girl, living or dead, is co-incidental. If however, you do know someone resembling her, do yourself a favour. Run for your life.

The Thing That Should Not Be

There are moments in your life when you read the most ridiculous of Facebook statuses, and you decide to play it safe; when you graciously comment “ Nice J “ ,even when every fibre of your body is willing you to type, “ Dude, WTF is wrong with you?” . A moment when you decide to take the morally high ground, and refuse to spend your time berating such hapless fools.

Obviously, this is not going to be one of those moments.

Yes, this is a hate rant. No, this is not an attack on those ‘patriotic citizens’ who decide to share links stating that our national anthem was voted the best in the world. This isn’t even for the ones who post “best brother week” statuses every month or so. No, this one is for the ones who actually believe they precious statuses are witty and life changing( not unlike my views of this blog). Believe me, these ARE real statuses.

1- 1- “lazy”

You managed to drag your ass all the way to your laptop, open up Facebook, and then have the gall to type ‘lazy’ ???

2- 2- “sad…”

It wasn’t “I’m so sad because” or “It’s so sad that” ( not that it would have much much of a difference, but if you are going to come up with lame statuses, at least try to be grammatically correct!) . But no, you had to go with sad *dot* *dot* *dot* ( did I mention this guy’s GMAT score was over 700?)

3- 3-“after 3 dayz of searching.... finally got my acco.... nd its \m/ J”

As a metal head, I take offense to that. Your acco was \m/ ?? Seriously? The Devil’s Horns? I wonder if you’ll be smiling when they get stuck up your ass. ( for further information of why not to use \m/ , check out Instain Noodles…the link’s around here somewhere) . Don’t even get me started on the ‘dayz’ bit of it.

4- 4- “Is disappointed after hp7! so many good scenes cut out! now u pls dont disappoint me breaking dawn :( “

A Twihard. Need I say more?

5- 5- “ive successfully tanned my elbows”

Trust me, there are more difficult places to get a tan. Figure them out and then boast.

6- 6- “I want the older version of chat box back!!!”

Oh, don’t worry. I’m sure Mark Zuckerburg will be right on it. After all, if YOU say that the old chat box is to brought back, who is he to deny you?

7- 7- “katy perry is coming to seattle....and performing live at Key arena....this is the biggest thing in my life after the Luke Skywalker vs Darth Vader fight”

I know it might be hard to digest, but a guy posted this. A 20 year old guy, born 8 years AFTER the Luke Skywalker vs Darth Vader fight. And seriously? You picked that over Anakin vs Obi Wan / Obi Wan vs Darth Maul?

8- 8- “How does one get a kitten?”

(I go against my better judgement by posting this, but What the hell :P )

Idiot.

Step 1- Get a job. Or an internship that gives stipend

Step 2- Get at least 25k a month from said internship

Step 3- Use said money to pay for said kitten

9- 9- “I love my new haircut”

And I love my new Swiss Army knife. Care to come out and play?

10- 10-“WTF was i thinking?”

Let’s look at this closely. The fact that you managed to put this up as a status, goes against the belief that you were, in fact, thinking. ( I apologize, I couldn’t come up with anything stupider than that L )

11- 11-“ZMND. Finally made me realise that Zindagi Milegi Na Dobara. J”

You figured that out NOW? Honestly, if your parents had learnt that the easiest way to teach kids morals was to show them movies involving hunks with six-packs and curvy babes, growing up would have been so frikking awesome!! ( all because of the latter mind you).

12- 12- “Muffins”

Respect. Mixed with hatred. Since I was forced to read this while eating corn flakes. L

Am I irrational. Perhaps. Am I full of disgust at the sight of these statuses. Definitely. Will I take the post down if you beg me to? Too right I won’t.

P.S- This should serve as a Disclaimer of sorts. The statuses mentioned above, while seemingly real, are fake. True Story.The author is not responsible for any hurt sentiments or the like. If you truly believe that one of these statuses IS actually yours, then good news. Looks like there’s two of you in this world. Hurray! If you don’t like the way your statuses have been used, PLEASE go onto Facebook and share the link of the blog, defaming it as you will. You might be doing something valuable with your time finally. Also, the author would not mind it. As long as he gets the blog hits. If on the other hand, you DO actually like it, please go and share it all the same. For reasons mentioned above.

P.P.S – Pretty Please?

P.P.P.S – This is being written by the person sitting beside the author while the article was being written. The Author read the line above and realized it sounded rather gay. In shock and horror, he killed himself. Those reading this, feel free to go “ There There”