Clustered Cerebellum

It has been 15 days since the last time I typed. It has been 15 days since I started writing a story, my so called true fiction. I have been doing nothing during the last 15 days. Suhas and I are also going distant. He is busy with his work and I am lost all the time. These 4 walls tend to eat me alive. I have been trying to find some time to concentrate and continue the story which I started. This is my usual story, I start something and then it goes away. This has to change; I have 45 days to submit this story to my editor cum publisher. I will be completely broke if I don’t sell this story. What can I do? The usual question starts doing the round. I better get some air. ---------- “How are you doing man?” Tomba asked me as I opened the gate to his house and parked my cycle. “Am alright dude, the ringing sound seems to be still there” I replied while picking up a ‘moda’ to park my butt. “You are one lucky dude you know, you could have died there man” Tomba continu

“I wake up in the morning And I raise my weary head I got an old coat for a pillow And the earth was last night's bed I don't know where I'm going Only God knows where I've been I'm a devil on the run A six gun lover A candle in the wind” I always wake up with a song. Today it was Bon Jovi’s blaze of glory spinning in my head ever since I opened my eyes. On most days, the song vanishes after some time, while on some days, it remains the whole day. I don’t hum the song but it is there somewhere in my brain, playing itself out. “I am going to be late for my tuition class”, I thought, as I rubbed my eyes and glanced at the clock. Imphal, the capital of Manipur, the place where I was born some 16 summers/winters ago, is known for its tuition culture. Almost every student of every school of every class goes for a tuition class. Some before they go to school while some after the school hours and for some both before and after school. It appears tha

“Here we are, alright, I will see you later” Suhas said as he slowed down his car in front of his apartment building. “Alright man, see you later” I said as I got down the car. “Good evening sir” said the security guard as I crossed the gate. Holy hell, I have been here for more than 6 months and I don’t know this guy’s name. That is so not me. What is wrong with me? Good evening sir, I mumbled as I walked towards the lift lobby. I don’t know what is going on with me. I am not the person that I used to be, that is for sure, but what went wrong? Was it my inability to earn something decent every month? Or was it my inability to keep her happy? All she wanted for me to do was to buy her stuffs. That is all. Everything was fine when we started off. Yeah, that seems to be the story for everyone when it starts. Everything is rosy and nice in the beginning and then everything goes for a toss. The very thing that attracted you to that person becomes something that you just can’t sta

It’s been a while since I last wrote anything.  January 12 th was the last time I could type something and paste somewhere. It is sometimes mind boggling to know how much you want to type but you just cannot. You have these ideas doing somersaults in your brain ready to be inked but somehow you manage to not type anything. After a while you don’t remember what you were thinking. You pass by some place and then it inspires you to do something, you want to write down a phrase, a stanza, a verse, but you just can’t. Concentration takes a vacation when you really want to have it. It is difficult for someone like me, who prefers to write than talk. I do talk but if you give me a choice, I rather write than talk. Then again, I can't write all the time. You see. So, what am I writing about? No idea. That is the way it has been, I start off idealess and then it goes everywhere it can. Trying to make some sense while I type has been a way for me. Some people have known my writing way b

Type; Just type There are so many things that I want to write about. Too many things at the same time, is also a problem. Selecting a topic to write about also seems to be a herculean task. I don’t know why it is called a herculean task, may be because even Hercules would have found it difficult. Is that the connotation? May be, may be not, it is indeed difficult. Sometimes, I wonder how people are able to blog every single day. Of course, people will post every single day if they are paid to do so. Now, all bloggers are not paid, are they? But they still write a lot. How is it possible to write anything about anything? A better statement would be how are they able to focus on just one topic and write about it. I have met people who CAN write, trust me, they can. Give them any topic and they would write at least 3 pages of something about that. It is more like talking for me; I could talk about pretty much everything under the sun. However, I may not be able to write anything a

Got to wonder There are too many things going on this planet at the same time. Somewhere someone is dying while someone just dropped into the planet. There are way too many things happening for anyone to be able handle at a single point of time. Facebook is one such example of too many things happening at the same time. There is a new thing happening on it almost every hour or so. One such thing which is currently going on is the English language test that everyone is taking up and putting up their scores on facebook. Now, the language is not an alien language to many Indians but most of us know how it is used. I will be very surprised if everyone knew the meaning to the following words: Malleable, Arcane, Nefarious, Bombilate, Jargogle, Pedantic, Lubitorium, and Abusion. Could any Indian be that good that he/she knows the meaning of all of them? The answer is of course YES, in case we are talking about probability. However, the question is about common people. Now, the other thing

Well, I am back after a long time. Looks like the writer's block is gone. At least for now.  Let me see how much consistent I get in updating this blog. Sometimes, it feels like copying and pasting all the blog posts from my ex-office's blog space. Then again, some people would have already read it. Now, what am I supposed to type about? No clue. Let's pick up a super hot topic that is burning the meitei or manipuri internet world. The issue is why is Priyanka Chopra acting as Mary Kom when someone with a similar look from the North East could have been given the role?  Now, this one looks like it has not gone down well with many people, especially the people in Manipur. The very same place where Hindi movie has not been released for more than a decade. Remember that. Did anyone scream that a person from Punjab should have played the role of Milkha Singh in "bhag milkha bhag"? Nobody did and nobody cares. It is the director's perspective. Perio

Alright, My last post was in March 2012 where I did speak about being regular on this blog. Talk about being regular eh? I am back here after more than a year. Last year I was blogging only on the internal blog site of my then office. It was THE place for me to rant about everything and anything that happened in office. Now that I am no more with that organisation and I am free to rant in the open world, here I am; to rant, you see. Before we go ahead with anything. Here is my first post of this year (2013). This is a short story that I wrote a while ago. This has already been published in my earlier blog in my earlier office. So, people who have read this will know. I hope you like it :D Leave your comments if your don't like it. This story is bollywood in my style. He he.  And I am pretty sure that there is going to be a lot of mistakes coz I don't proof read. Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction, any resemblance is purely co-incidental A frail sound from