10 Craziest things I have done in my Life

I was sick of reading buzzfeed about 10 things that only weird people do and 20 things that you should never do. So I decided to make my own list of the craziest things that I have done in my life. 
Disclaimer- Try them at your own risk (because it's gonna be worth it)
 

1. Hiding in a goods train

When a place I wanted to visit was flooded and no modes of transport was available and civilians were denied all entries, I ticked my bucket list (and risked kicking the bucket) by hiding in a goods train and ‘jumping’ off the moving train upon reaching the stop. Looking at the resultant view I felt, it was worth risking for.  
 

 

2. Asking for a lift in a train engine (with no bogey)-

 

Yes, I had my 1 hour long journey ‘standing’ at slippery half-foot elevation on corner of a train engine holding a shaky rusted bar, while it was raining cats and dogs and all other animals; getting scratched by every bush I crossed, watching the wild animals around watch me.



3. Going to a Male toilet

 

Honestly, I don’t understand the logic of separate female and male toilet thing. Don’t we use a common one on the plane? In restaurants? Or, at home?
During my LLB exam days I used the male toilet next to the classroom instead of the female toilet on the 3rd floor. Not to prove my point, but to save time. Thankfully, I was caught  (read thanked for) only once.





  

4.  Visiting a S@x shop

I have always believed that ‘You’ should be a judge of your ‘should and should not’ items in life.
I visited a S@x shop. Not once but twice. Once with a guy and once with a girl. Of course it has enlightened me about a lot of things of the unseen face of the world which I might write about later in the blog.

 

 5. Ride a wild bear

I have over-protective parents. And my grandmother- overtly. She was told that making kids ride a bear makes them immune to diseases. So, I underwent this unpopular ride. The bonus was- letting the bear hiss in my ears will make me fearless. Oh Boss! I cant forget that roaring sniff (and the meaty smell from its mouth) to which I completely surrendered as a child. Considering my adventures, I can’t deny the truthfulness of my Granny’s belief.

 

 

6. Ride a helicopter

 

And that too, for free. Winning a contest at some media company rewarded with me a free helicopter ride. And I must say- what a pleasure it was!


 

7. Be a guest at a live radio show

What happens when you are not prepared to speak? And that too, after speaking you realise you were on air!

And in this confusion, you end up becoming an scapegoat of Murphy's law because you speak exactly what you said you must not say! (No details please)


 
 

8.  Invite a B@stard in a conference room, lock him and tell him on his face that he is a cunt

 

You repent more of not doing things in life than doing. Not kicking this guy is what I would have repented. My cultural upbringing has always ‘forced’ me to be respectful to elders but an action of sparing this guy would have resulted in an unhealed wound. And I, freed myself from this guilt. I am proud of myself!



 

9.  Shooting a news story on the road and being laughed at by passers by

A project during Journalism required me to shoot a story in public. Since I didn’t have a mike, I shot the story holding a handle cover pretending as the mike in front of the camera (trying to act professional). I was laughed at by commuters, hawkers, auto rickshaw drivers (which later I realized probably was mistaken as something else). Finally, when I submitted the recorded version, I was happy to see my majestic unstoppability.

 
10.  Doing a solo cross country trip on the next day of operation

The Dentist cut out the painful wisdom teeth (as he felt I was over-wise for the stupid world) and instructed a complete bed rest till the stitches heal. Excited over my already booked tickets, I went to a solo trip overseas, roamed all over posing smilingly in the photos hiding the blood soaked gauze pads inside the mouth. I have these four teeth still preserved.



 

  

Guess what did I find in Rome

So there was some international shopping festival where handicrafts from all over the world were on exhibition- East to West.
And finding this image there was an absolute pleasant tickle. 
Only if the vendor could speak English I would have shared my joy!

The Blackmail

One of biggest difference between good times and bad times is that during happiness you make rules and during sadness, you break them.

As my Meditation techniques have taught me ways to observe the reasons affecting my mental equilibrium, I observed that there was another phase that I had been entering in, whenever I was pushed towards a loneliness I wasn’t used to-  the phase of ‘Self- Blackmail’.

These pangs of loneliness evolved from the transitions from one phase to another, mounting pressure. For instance the shiftover from prolonged togetherness (like with a close friend or family member) to getting back to being physical alone, a shift to a new city, new job, new house or falling into the net of a new problem. And I was always kneeling down before this innate force to fall prey to this unmindful desolation I was suffering from.

I blackmailed myself do things that I wouldn’t have done in the normal course- breaking promises, compromising ethics, defying rationalities and giving up on self-vows.

This blackmailing was scratching upon the most vulnerable part of my flesh and the wounds only oozed out sheer cowardliness and single- mindedness of indirect self-curse portrayed in more than one ways of self-coercion.

I forced stuff on myself I was principally against and convinced myself that there was no pleasure in doing stuff that I felt I should.  

I stopped sharing. I started chasing. I stopped analyzing. I started adding upon things that have always been beyond my control. And found most convincing reasons to land myself in the situation where I could simply lash myself with all the failures, impossibilities and heartbreaks of the past.

I was continuously succeeding in fishing out reasons I could cling to, to feel perennial sadness inside my bones. And any refusal to such absorption had a cost- to bow down to my demands of the emotional blackmail.

The only way to safety was to be unsafe. And it was one-way. Such unsafe way to safety just inscribed another way to insensate destruction.

And this time. When I am again imprisoned in this self-created holocaust camp for the last 10 days (I mean nights), I have decided to revolt against this dictatorship and like a patriotic soldier, being true to my Life, refuse to surrender irrespective of which degree of assault is inflicted.

I’ll undergo all that I am possibly meant to. And will face the pain as it comes with only one thought in mind- “Be Brave”.

I disapprove to surrender to this Blackmail. I am brave...

 

P.S. You are what you think

Raining Death

It’s raining death...

And the ceiling is leaking...

Hips don’t lie

Today is 6^th day in a row when I haven’t slept at night. I just see the hands of the clock rolling from one number to another the whole night.

 

I have left no stone unturned to help/ facilitate/ assist/ try and finally ‘force’ myself to sleep.

I tried to sleep with my head up. Then down. With my mouth open. Then closed. With blanket over my face. Off my face. Wearing an extra T-shirt. Removing it. Oiling my hair. Skyping. Listening Pankaj Udas. Reading 'Mein Kampf'. Writing senseless poetries. Youtubing lullabies.

Re-watching trailer of ‘The Messenger of God (2015)’ and ‘Deshdrohi’, imitating steps of ‘ispiderman’.

Googling ‘Ghar vapsi’ drive and reading people’s comments over it.

Texting people who don’t reply. Forwarding ‘happy new year’ messages to non-Indians, ‘Happy Lohri’ messages to Punjabis and ‘Happy Makar Sakranti’ to those whose domicile is unknown.

Watching tutorial videos on how to tame squirrels and make a hair bun with stationery at office desk. 

But, I failed. Even my brother’s suggestion to watch the first 20 minutes of ‘Godfather’ didn't help.

One of the reason is certainly the jet lag besides the other factors. And there is one funny thing I found about this (although I call it an extremely intelligent observation). 

That- 

Even if my sincere efforts in adjusting my muscular/ cardio vascular/ nervous system as per HK Time zone result in getting some sleep, I found that I cant force my bowel movements not to follow the Central European Time. 

Kashmiri Restaurant in Paris

A very interesting conversation at a restaurant by the name of ‘Kashmir’ in Paris last week with its Pakistani Manager.

Me: Hi. I am a North Indian. I broadly know about Kashmiri cuisine like red beans etc. Can you please explain what its main specialties are?

Manager: Madam, Kashmir is a very beautiful valley in Pakistan.

Me: Pardon me… Pl dont tell me where Kashmir is. I asked about the food.

Manager: About food, ammm.... (looking at the back) the waiter will explain you. Oye Sun!….(pointing at the guy) Come here and explain Madam about Kashmiri food.

Boy (carrying the fake hospitality industry smile): Madam, the best Keema you’ll ever find will be Kashmiri.

Me: I am a vegetarian.

Boy: Sorry. Then Kashmiri is not for you.

Me (whispering): I presume you meant just the food.  

Boy: Sorry?

Me: Can you please bring the vegetarian thali....

P.S. Just like Indians will remain Indians, Pakistanis will remain Pakistanis too.

Musafir hoon yaaron!

Aren't cities like people. You can never know them well enough 

Am back from my vacations.

After a month long time, I am walking on a street without maps…This same city that I have been introducing as my ‘home’ lately.

As I landed back late at night the other day… I just observed the streets around changed their names from long German words ending with ‘hoff/ berg/per’ to short Chinese ‘ng/ho/tin’.

I just observed myself spotting the familiar spots on way back to home and the little stories I have about them.

Oh… that’s my bus stop! That’s the Starbucks corner where I watch the smokers every morning enjoying caffeine with nicotine and thank God for protecting me from such self- destruction.

That’s the Chinese restaurant that smells of Basmati rice from the road.  I always thought that I’ll get Curry-Rice here until I checked that the only vegetarian item they have is bread-toast.

That’s the over-crowded ATM machine that I never get to use…None around here because the machine is out of order today.

That’s the taxi stand where tourists with heavy luggage queue up for airport transfers at hotel check out times.

The hoarding at the back by HSBC wishing Christmas is replaced by Chinese New year wishes by Citi Bank.

And here comes the street name registered in my sub conscious that I write under my name in Bank papers, Registry, utility bill payments- as my address. I had taken a bit long to remove ‘Mumbai’ from it.

What separates a resident from a tourist?

The map-lessness? The conversancy? The years spent? The ID card? The Continuance?

Or, nothing....

Man's love and that of a Woman's

Temptation and Inspiration 
are a mixture of same ingredients

Still are felt differently..

Like, Temptation is stronger in its impact 
and, Inspiration in its span....

Just like Man's love and that of a Woman's.