A Torturer Knows You By Heart

 

If you were stranded on an island all by yourself with no sign of flora and fauna and your only choice was to nurture on your own flesh, would you rather die of hunger, or by your own affliction.

Torture you see, is a cruel master. 

Imagine yourself standing on a platform and right when the train is barely a few feet away, you're whipped and swirled and hurled around by some mystery figure along the edge of the stage and before the train could smash your jaw like a clay fort he pulls you back to where you were and vanishes in the dark like think smoke. 

You'll take a moment to reach the surface. grab your breath. look for water, neutralize your heartbeat, wipe your eyes, pant, cry, weep and then with a feeling best described as a blend of anger, astonishment, grief and suddenness look hastily deep in the dark for him. Trying to figure out who he was. What was his identity. What was his motive. His agenda. His despair, His pursuit. You wonder if you'd ever see him again. And thats it. Right at this very moment, he has won. Hands down. That fellow did his job well and good. Remember what they say about how you get EXACTLY what you wish for and hence be careful about it. You've just expressed a slightest of a fractional desire of seeing him again and yes, you will. Because you wish to. Because he's still looking at you. Because he's a torturer and he knows exactly how to show you the bad and hint you the worst and get you out of it and bring you to worse making you feel relieved while planting a seed of security. He knows your deepest fear and will not leave a chance to stir them right. He knows what you are made of. He knows you by heart.

Disclosures Of A Boy's Hostel- Episode 1

Once the entire blueprint was drafted using our fingers on the dusty coat on the shelf of room number C6 of Jeevan Villa Boys hostel, me, Anuj, Vaibhav and Gourav , the 4 scumbags , left for the biggest pursuit of our night : to swipe away the bread and butter out of the hostel mess and share the rewards with the hungry fellow mates who had shown this immense faith in us at 3 AM in the midnight. Inspired from scofield and T-bag, the mission was a success and we ended up celebrating with bread and butter with a feeling none less than what Robinhood would have had at his first rendezvous with success.

That’s how it began. 17th September 2008, my first day at this place.

What followed was one heck of an year! It was beyond my expectations and way beyond anyone’s comprehension and also above any 18 year old’s appraisal.

Jeevan Villa boy’s hostel can be described as the laboratory of Dr Heidegger. It was an old cemented structure which was never renovated once affected by the Chernobyl disaster and once you step inside the gallery that contained the washrooms, you’d  realize it wasn’t renovated after the Bhopal fart gas tragedy either! The rooms had plasters coming off from the walls and ceilings which leaked consistently. It was painted green, giving it more of an appearance of a Dargah (which was also applicable because of the piles of bedsheets collected in the center of it). the roof-top mess didn’t have a shade. Moreover the improper lights made it absolutely impossible to detect if the pigeon sitting on the window upstairs had ‘dropped’ his blessings in my dal that was prepared by this fat black vest-and-lungi wearing guy whose one hand never stopped scratching his crotch.

Having said that, no prizes for guessing that the place was mostly inhabited by mice and cockroaches. ( we had our own PJ running there that there are more cockroaches and less cocks here in the building).

Now, don’t blame the framework and the management. I mean that was very well expected out of the authorities. But, here comes the problem. Remember what they say about women? That she can beautify any gross venue and can make a paradise out of it. its 100% true. (no pun intended). Which is what I realized when I came here. Because no matter how much a woman denies that shes not into household chores and cleanliness stuff, she’ll never beat men at unhygienic and nastiest avenues. I mean seriously! Respect! We, the dalits of humanity and the social outcastes of cleanliness especially in our later teens , when we say ‘we can manage’ it means ‘we can go without it’.

For instance,

‘we can manage bathing’

‘we can manage washing clothes’

‘we can manage the neatness of the room’

‘we can manage hostel food’

‘we cannot manage porn’

‘we cannot manage sleep’

‘we can never in the wildest dreams manage sex’

I mean if I were to describe you an average 18 year old engineering student. It would go like this:

He stopped hitting on Indian women at some point. She instantly assumed him to be sleazy anyway. He had reputation to protect. Given such poor practice with making conversations with the unknown of the opposite gender, his skills got considerably worse. When he does try his luck now, once in a while, the possible openers get odder still: “You smell really nice….” Creepy! She looks away. He goes back to his drink.

The times you must hang out with other men, just men, is when you’re at a quasi-gay joint celebrating old boys’ reunion of a frustrated boarding school. There are mostly men around at places, which allow men. The topic of conversation is the woman still. This is terrible.

And what adds to the frustration is the impact that the past resentless relationships have had on us. I mean, its ok the chick was ugly, but whats not ok is that SHE left ME! I mean dude! No women can ever LEAVE/DUMP/ABANDON me!

Why>? Because I’m a man! I have this ego! I am a restless bastard! I am a sexist!

I’m getting away from the point here! I decided to write a post on how we survive in engineering, or a hostel, or in a bachelor’s pad, or if nothing, in an off limit world. And I ended up explaining how we survive the nights. 

You know what they show in movies ,

At a discotheque? Yes. That would be an ideal place for the lonely soul, seeking a happy ending: a night of casual, naughty nirvana. It’s a large, dimly lit psychedelic dome singularly structured around eyeing men and women, since there’s precious little they can see of each other, through their beer goggles, under a shiny disco-ball. Loud music takes away the awkward discomforts of acquaintanceship. Burden of conversation safely lies in the lyrics of the songs. Akon sings, “I wanna love you.” Snoop Dogg adds, “I wanna fuck you.” Bodies move to booty calls. Eyes meet. The point’s made. Nobody need ask, your place, or mine. Maybe that’s there in the song words as well. Deal’s struck. Booze is expensive. Night’s young. So are you.

What we end up doing:

At a discotheque? Yes. In that phase of shiny balls (pun intended), one of the very few nights where we even bothered to take a bath, wiped the dust of that old hair gel bottle. Ironed the shirt well and borrowed your roomate’s jeans.  Now there we are, giving green looks to the nerds who didn’t pay for the stag entry as they came with remarkably hot chicks ( this had always been the biggest mystery of our lives until a few years back). Now somehow at the corner of the club, my eyes do meet with this girl who might have/ havenot been willing. The first thing I do there is i turn my head in the opposite direction. But then, its so easy to motivate others than oneself. All my guys around me are like ‘Ja na! dekh rahi hai tujhe’. And I go like ‘achchi nahi hai’. (while inside I’m like ‘Dude! She’s the one!’) somehow overpowered by this ego wala thing, we never made a move. Crazy days! 

Dear Girl at Orca,

If you’re reading this. I’m sorry for that night. I know I should have made my move! If you’re still willing, add me. ;)

To be continued….

The 7 sins. Deadly? Really?

"The future is meant for those who are willing to let go of the worst parts of the past. When you cannot take two steps without turning around to inspect your footsteps, you are getting nowhere fast.” 
― Corey Taylor, Seven Deadly Sins: Settling the Argument Between Born Bad and Damaged Good

The part of the world where I come from has its own sayings, beliefs, perceptions and ideology. Now you might question the appositeness of such convictions. The doctrine here that imparts vividness to this theory is the Asian subcontinent is more like a parallel universe. It’s a land of myths and hard facts that are completely antagonistic in nature. It’s a land of extreme admissions that refuse to go hand in hand. It’s a land where certain dogmas are ranked higher than human life, philosophy and creed.

An allegorical image depicting the human heart subject to
 the seven deadly sins, each represented by an
animal (clockwise: toad = avarice; snake = envy; lion = wrath
; snail = sloth; pig = gluttony; goat = lust; peacock = pride).
Source: Wikipedia

Having said that, one of the many theories that have surprised me here is the one that talks of the Capital Vices or as the European mnemonic narrated it, “SALIGIA”, meaning superbia,  avaritia,  luxuria, invidia, gula, ira, acedia. Though an international phenomenon and a universal theory, the Indian version of it has always enticed me beyond my understanding of the subject. You see, when any global theory gets its Indian version, not only we minutely change a few ordeals, but we also secretly sneak in a few of our self-made spiced detailing of the notions. The insight here is to create a tradition that does not offend our spiritual (which we use as a synonym for superstitious sometimes) aspects even if the very meaning of the original stature alters.

The Capital Vices , often referred to as the ‘7 deadly sins’ are by nature considered as the prime impression to educate and instruct people about human tendency of resignation towards a sin. They say to fail the theory of modern day sciences and investigations that combat mano-a-mano with our churchly rules, one must avoid falling a victim to Lust, Pride, Envy, Gluttony, Anger, Greed and Sloth.

7 deadly sins Source: socialnorth

The modern day ravishing code and the current approach of a more rational humanism has significantly given rise to this whole new avenue of the coded verses where a human soul, for his own egg in one’s beer, may resort to diabolic approaches and remarkable techniques of metamorphosis of the game. We now live in an era where one man’s blood is another man’s beer. We are undergoing a radical transformation, perhaps the most barbaric one. The 2012 world may not visualize and acknowledge the notability of a world where benevolence is ranked higher than materialism but the fatalness of the situation yet to arise may put squeeze to do so. And so the 7 deadly sins, which they say if violated, may lead to dogmatic consequences at the gates of Hekla, are also, in the present society, shunned, disdained and brushed off.

Source: Epilogue

Now I’m not much of a philosopher. In fact when it comes to such thought provoking stuff, I don’t mind being labeled as an ignoramus for once. And the reason why I’m forced to think upon this subject of the cardinal sins is because I have been on the giving end of it. I have committed all of them. I have fallen a victim to all such debts of desire. Which, however, is not that striking because if you look back, you’ll realize you and me are walking on the same track with different paces. Rendering to which, we may not realize how difficult it has been for the folks who have been on the receiving end of it. But anyway! The point here that I’m trying to make is that despite of falling a prey to all of them, despite of acknowledging the fact that I have fallen a prey, my instinct somewhere refuses to believe and accept that what I did, according to the holy books, is considered the most impregnable veniality in the face of human history. Regardless of how small or petty it was, such disobediences are not forgiven in the court of supernatural.  

If pride is considered as a sin, haven’t we all executed it? Recall the moment when we last expressed excessive belief in our own comprehension. Yesterday? Last week? Last month? Never say never. If greed is one cardinal sin, when was the last time you wished you had brighter comforts and sounder indulgences? For anger to be an unforgiving vice, remind yourself of the last act of infraction you became a victim of.

Mahabharata's concept of revenge being the purest emotion.

The Gandhian principles have been muted. The Christian doctrine of turning the other cheek is not recognized further. Like I mentioned earlier, the Asian subcontinent has had a widespread history of established wisdoms and omens. One of the very popular sayings from Mahabharata establishes that “Revenge is the purest of all emotions”.  Revenge in itself mocks at the very notion of anger and pride for it’s the outcome of the same.

The human mind that seeks salvation is a conspiracy of all such controversies. One side doesn’t let him surrender, and the other doesn’t let him fall apart.

If envy is a vice, calm yourself down, because there are numerous instances you can remind yourself when you’ve been a scapegoat of this one. Subjects may differ, but this green-eyed monster has had his blessings on you. Gluttony to us is more of an obsession. We regret yet do it again.

“I do not blame you, Maharaja, for hitting an innocent man. For, cruelty comes quick to the powerful.”

Another verse from Mahabharata where we speak of power blindfolding the emperor. Though spoken in disgust, the envy, the anger and the gluttony have been depicted and recited evenly. The verses where we talk of power are synonyms of those where we talk of the drastic outcomes of what happens when it goes wrong. Traditions have inspired generations and will continue to do so.

‘I know what is right but I cannot do it; I know what is wrong but cannot desist from doing it.’ 
(Duryodhana in the Mahabharata)

When I am asked, what is my view of the concept of pearly gates and its association with the 7 deadly sins (very often I’m asked this by myself only), I have this amateur theory that ‘we all spend an equal amount of time in hell. Its just the address of hell that changes.’ And in context of the se7en sins, the ones on the giving end of it are yet to see it and the ones on the receiving end are already going through it. Its not too far when we’ll trade places.

Lust. Well! If I were to be taken in for a trial and if this whole concept exists, I’d be damned for this one. The punishment for this is getting smothered in fire and brimstone. I am preparing myself for it mentally though! And yes, sloth, if lack of physical activity is also a sin, most of you will be damned for this one. Getting thrown into snake pits is not that bad of a punishment.

As our deeds shall bottom line the exit, I wonder where does my hell or heaven start from and if it does, will it be worth it?

"Bura Jo Dekhan Main Chala, Bura Naa Milya Koye
Jo Munn Khoja Apnaa, To Mujhse Bura Naa Koye"
-Kabir
                                  

Translation:

I searched for the crooked, met not a single one

When searched myself, "I" found the crooked one.

Bliss. Nirvana. Salvation.

“Every morning in South Africa, a lion wakes up thinking it must run faster than the fastest gazelle or it will starve to death. Every morning in South Africa, a gazelle wakes up thinking that it must run faster than the slowest lion or it will be killed. . .

So the moral of the story is, it doesn’t matter whether you’re a lion or a gazelle, when the sun goes up, you’d better be running”

There is this small part of me, that succumbs to desire. There is this part of me, that defies laws of nature. There is this part of me, that refuses to accept mediocrity. There is this part of me that abjures and abnegates the discretion made by these lines. Far away and deep below, there is a part of me that wont go unnoticed. The shallowness shall confine itself to the absurdness of the peaks and will melt into the darkness only until this whole scene gets dissipated.

         “If we assume that human life can be ruled by a reason, the                  possibility of life is destroyed”

Not that much of a Hercules I am,

I’m blown by winds, swept by tides;

Generations that follow me are revived by authority,

Serenity for me lies deeper than the frenzy;

Exclusive is my bounce back,

Repulsive is this apathy.

“Every morning I ask myself, why am I here,

why am I not dead to the world like everybody else?

 Why do I put myself to this constant pain and suffering?

Why?

Because I can!

Because I choose to!

Because I care to!

So who am I?

I’m the wrecker of steel

I’m the crusher of mediocrity

I’m the face of destiny

I am an animal.

Can you handle me?”

The echo of the winds is not enough,

The trailblazing tornados need more practice;

As I stand here undefeated, unshaken, undone,

There is a small hope that burns within,

There is a bigger challenge that lies affront;

There is a deeper shore, the one they say unsailed,

But bigger are these arms.

They’ve never been inside the sleeves.

“Bura jo dekhan main chala, bura na milya koye

Jo dil khoja aapna, mujhsa bura na hoye. “

The sins of the past,

The deeds of today,

The lessons learnt and forgotten again,

The invasion of privacy, the hatred of mankind,

The dust in the desert, the drops on leaves,

The drops of rain, the smile of a baby,

Were all meant to cherish. But alas! Look what I’ve done!

What have I done.

What have I become.

“Its not the critic who counts, not the man who explains where the doer of deeds lacked and where he could have done better,

The credit always belongs to the man in the arena. The one who tasted blood mixed with sand. Fell down, got up and tried his lungs out. For no petty soul living in the grey twilight can recognize victory and no doubtful soul can ever taste the sweetness of failure”

Randomness becomes order and order becomes a picture. Its like the game of connecting dots on a paper. You begin with a random pattern of dots but slowly as you keep connecting the dots, there emerges a picture. A connected one, a clear one, a brighter one and maybe a better one as well.

"You and me, we're gonna have a problem"

In the summer of 2011, this wave of fitness took over me and the only thing I was doing in my evening hours was spending serious time at the gym. And the rest of the day, morning, afternoon and nights were spent thinking about the growth I’d shown and looking at a shirtless me in the mirror.(which was not bad at all mind you).

My ‘bookmarks’ tab that would mostly consist of Aletta Ocean links and some sex comics stuff was over written by Kai Greene motivation stories and Ronnie Coleman training videos and experts reviewing the supplements I was on.


Anyway the preface being mentioned, here comes the story. Now before I narrate it , this story is an inspiration from lots of stories. It’s a fictitious encounter. I collected some part of this stuff from one source and some from some other one and eventually ended up making this motivation story in my mind. When I googled this, I didn’t find any such piece written. So I’m claiming copyrights on this one hell yeah!  So imagine any of your role models. Any fitness icons you’ve admired (for me it has always been Kizzito Ejam) and imagine him narrating the following one:

"You and me, we're gonna have a problem"

       “You and me, we’re gonna have a problem” (The diary of a bodybuilder)

I remember when I was 14. The meek fellow. The loner. The one easily bullied over. The one always repelled. The kid nobody wanted to talk to. So I’m sitting on the playground bench one day when the school bully shows up with his team mates and threatens me for my lunch money. I refuse. He asks again, this time more emphatically. I say no again. He punches me hard. I fall on my face. Nose bleeding. He snatches the money from me while one of his boys spits on me.  I give him shit. He slaps me back. This time with his knuckles on. He grabs me from my hair, looks at me and says ‘You and me, we’re gonna have a problem.’

Then came college. My tradition of living in the denial continues there too. But we’re instinctive creatures. We want to go beyond our safe zone. So one day I try to flip it over. I muster the guts to talk to this girl I had a thing for. That day at the canteen I walk up to her and do a ‘Hey wassup!’ She looks at me with a wicked look. Doesn’t answer.  Her big bad guy shows up out of nowhere. Asks me what was I doing. I don’t say a word and start walking. He grabs my collar. Throws me a punch that nearly broke my jaw. I fall down. Blood dripping again. He kicks me in my chest. Steps over me, gives me a straight look and says ‘You and me, we’re gonna have a problem’.

Then I’m at my gym. The weakest fellow there. So I walk up to this big guy and ask him if he’s done with the barbells so I can use them. He is one egoistic bastard. He says he isn’t done while he is not even using it anymore. Anyway  I wait. He makes me wait more. And more. And more. Without giving a damn I pick that barbell up and start walking when he grabs me from my wrist. Twists it. I drop the rod on the floor. He looks at me and says ‘Kid, you and me. We’re gonna have a problem.’

And today,

Its been 8 years since I’ve been working out. I’m 6 feet 7. 250 pounds. Not the one you’d ever mess with. But having been  on the receiving end of it, I know how it is. I am still the loner. I don’t talk to my gym people. Just me and my machines. However, like I said we are instinctive creatures. And so is this son of a bitch who lives within me. Who wants to party every weekend. Wants to get drunk every Saturday. Wants to nail all the hot chicks. Wants to skip the last few reps. Doesn’t want to eat those shitty chicken and rice combo. But the moment it flaps its wings and starts getting out of comprehension. I grab him by  his neck. Grapple him. Look at him in the eye and say ‘You and me, we’re gonna have a problem.’ 

Buckchodi and me.

Alright!

Its been a long time since I last wrote. Not that I lost my interest or it doesn’t fascinate me any more. Just that I was too busy doing other stuff.(which includes buckchodi, buckchodi, and more buckchodi). Now I’m the kind of person who does a lot of shitty stuff here and there, sometimes even put in real embarrassing situations because of that!, but somehow manages to get away with it. Now that is pretty much the same like all of us right!

Oh btw, if you’re expecting some good feed here, or some kind of thought provoking stuff, I’d suggest you better close this tab.

The reason for writing this post? Simple! All I’m trying to do is to get back into the ‘FEEL’ of writing! I mean its been serious time since I last wrote something here and I remembered the last time I did that ‘Tell me why you cry’, I read it like 10 times and said to myself ‘I’m getting better! Hell Yeah!’ , but then, of course, came other stuff. You know how it is when you’re engaged in an engineering course and that too at Rajasthan technical university. Wait you don’t? Don’t bother! Its not worth it.

You see the basic difference between those engineering students in IITs, BITS, IIITs and us is that they are the gigolos who may or may not have the best sexual intercourse, but somehow in the end will receive a paycheck for their time. And we, on the other hand, are having mercy sex. That is even when we are done, we don’t whether or not we will ever fucking get closer to receiving an amount that my dad sends me per month. Doesn’t make much sense? I know! Neither does this university.

Having said that, what adds to it, is . . . . the BACKS I have. I mean after my 1^st semester exams (In which I scored 70 percent ALL CLEAR!! ) There has not been any semester in which I didn’t flunk. Infact after my 2^nd semester, there hasn’t been a single semester in which I even passed a single subject. Now there may be a list of excuses I’ll come up with to shelter the basic reason which is still unknown! I mean, it might have been lack of interest, lack of knowledge, lack of much needed break after my 12^th standard. But whatever it was, I somehow am now in the final semester waiting for my old back results to see if choosing engineering over architecture was the right decision which I made ultimately on the fact that I didn’t want to spend 5 years doing my graduation.

Now comes the tricky part, what next!? I mean I’m like back to square one when I face this question like most of us. Anyway I’m not going to talk about it. Maybe now after writing about 500 words I now feel I’m back in the feel, so you can probably expect more ‘sensible’ posts from me now. And as for what next right now, I’m going to take a leak. See ya!

Square One..

It is the place we tend to avoid, the station we never want to pause at, the part we spurn, the junction we hate when arrives. However, like one of the many worldly miens of life, this too is inevitable. Its called square one.

We have been through it, in and out of it, maybe are still into it, or at most, just got out of it last week. As for me, I never thought I'd fall into it, but little did I know, one of the major things that decide your arrival on a junction is when you decide to go back the same old road thinking the place might have changed, altered, renovated, or destroyed. What sends goosebumps to you is the utter fact that out of the very few things in scenario, square one never changes, never renovates.

Down the same old lane, as I walked by today evening, I was greeted by it at the very doorstep, same as always, profound within, gravity that never deceased realizing which I withdrew myself from the chains and tried to pretend like it couldnt get a hold of me, but it did. I was already in the chains, tied, held, clutched, and defeated.

To some of you, square one might mean your family, the girl/guy who left you waiting by, to some of you it might be your paranoia. Be it whatever, square one is an uninvited junction, because no square one can ever symbolize health, prosperity and tranquility.

If in case you are one of those few lucky ones who have never been there, I insist you not to read further.

Square one is an anxiety, its a trauma, its a pause button, its a halt end. For me, it has always been a day spent in pins and needles. It is a phase, where all your remedies seem to fail. Music, alcohol, sex, weed. Nothing works! It gets you by the wrist, spits on you, plays with you, tortures you like a cruel enemy, fists you, threatens you, brings back your darkest nightmares, and the funny part is, it leaves without a trace. Nothing for you to collect evidence from, sulk it up, dry yourself up. You wake up, shredding the dust from your clothes, realizing what was it, thinking how worst it could have been. It leaves you without a hot lead, but with straight goosebumps. You deal with it eventually, deal with every penny of it, the isolation, the voices in your head, the monotony, the shadows, everything.

As the night sweeps in, so does your loneliness, the fear, the misery. But you sleep with them, because every morning is a new challenge, new place. new horizons. Deep down somewhere we all have a square one....and a train waiting to leave....some or the other moment, you will board it....I got off mine just now...