Three-Tier, Non A/C by Ganesh Talkies

The auspicious date has been set.
The venue has been fixed.
'Three-Tier, Non A/C' is to happen soon, real soon, like a month left soon.
OhGod,the drama, the excitement and the enormity of it all is getting to me!

The EP will contain 4 songs ( well 3 songs and one bonus, just for the music critics). Neel Adhikari is  helping/has helped us out with the mixing/mastering/production/ideating etc. The EP features Bodhisattwa Ghosh, our saviour, on guitars and so far it's been quite a riot!

Ganesh Talkies is a 4 piece lineup at the moment (we're very VERY open to collaborations though) consisting of yours truly (songwriting, bare minimum guitar), Nabarun Bose (keyboard and vocals), Roheet Mukherjee (bass) and Arka Das (drums and management).
The music we play cannot quite be described because I don't think anybody has ever tried to do what we're attempting at the moment. So it's nerve-wreckingly scary yet exciting at the same time.
Here is the facebook page, you can 'like' it to stay in the loop cause I'm officially not allowed to give any details at the moment. https://www.facebook.com/GaneshTalkies


Something tells me that the end of June will be a good, good time!

Three Letter Words

Your bloodline is as pure as the hashish you smoke.
You are unique, one in a million.
You are the goddess of all gods.

I don't know why, but I'm just hopelessly in love with you.
You are so fragile.
So petite.
Yet so strong.
Like a lioness.

It is only you who can satiate my appetite.
Wont you come to me then?
Even if it's only in my dream...

Once A Pessimist, ALways A Cynic

I don't really understand why people should be judged during their worst phases in life. I believe in quite the opposite, I feel that it is during one's phase of success that the inner monsters come out-for the world to see, but the world is too busy to notice.
I have been through the drill without even realising it. It's just that when you're observing someone else, the picture becomes clearer.
All my life (and I can put my hand on my heart and say this) I've always lent a helping hand to those in need, during their times of trouble. Be it people who are close to me or mere acquaintances, but very few have remembered me during their good times. The worst part is that it's generally the people who you think you're the closest to, who treat you like second class citizens once they're done needing your help-be it emotional, financial or any other.
Over the last few months I've noticed this mean, ruthless streak grow in me.  just don't feel like helping anybody, even though I know I can. I feel terrible about it too. But my head asks me to recollect all the times when I've trusted blindly and have been duped. So I land up turning the other cheek.

The world that I live in, is making me a mean, cynical and cruel person with each passing day. It's not my fault. As Darwin would put it, it is the survival of the fittest.

Battle Royale isn't too macabre a concept. At this rate, I wouldn't be surprised if similar policies are introduced by the governments across the world (if they remain at all). It's just a matter of time. The Apocalypse isn't too far away my friends!

In And Out. Out And In.

Sometimes I get tired of being the wallflower, it hurts to be in the background all the time. I am usually not the kind who usually complains, but sometimes, just sometimes, I want to be someone else's first priority too.
It's probably because I've conditioned myself to feel in a certain way regarding certain things, which is why I hardly feel any form of emotional pain anymore. That certainly isn't a good thing. It may make me feel invincible, but it also makes me feel like an outsider. It makes me feel as though I'm one big unwanted piece in the world's puzzle.

The reason why I never let pride get the better of me is because at the end of the day, I have nothing to be proud of really. I'm as replaceable as anyone can be.

Trade me for somebody else- be it at work, college, relationships etc and nobody would probably even notice the difference. My existence is probably that superficial.

Sex is so deceptive.
In and out.
Out and in.
Such a motherfucking lie.

NoNameThankYou

I'm staring to lose hope and planning to leave this place for good. As much as I love Kolkata, it's about time that I ventured outside. Most people (or atleast the ones I observe on a day-to-day basis) are too full of themselves, they're too content with living a safe, predictable life but the worst trait that they seem to possess is not being open to new things. At all.

I don't like it, I don't like it one bit.
I feel like I'm wasting my youth here, wasting away all the precious years that will never come back. Years that I'll probably regret later on in life.
I've been stuck in the rut for too damn long now. It's already taken a toll on my mental health and it won't be long before my body starts to rebel either.

Speaking of which, I don't know why I go to bed so incredibly dejected every night hoping that things will miraculously be fine the next morning. Stuff like that is only for the movies. Real life isn't that easy, it's far too cruel.

What I'm going through right now is a strange mix of anger, sadness, physical pain, irritation and melancholy. It's a deadly combination I tell you. I could spontaneously combust into a million little piece to tell you the truth...

Animal Instincts

After a point of time, the ostrich digs a hole and buries it's head into the sand, thus supposedly eliminating all possible worries/dangers.

I feel like an ostrich, someone who refuses to acknowledge the elephant in the room, who seems to be growing bigger and bigger with each passing day.

I make a decision, choose a path, walk two steps in that direction and run back to where I started from again. It's not because I'm sad. Or scared. Or incredibly demotivated.

I'm just too unsure of who I am starting to become with time.
I wish I could be an animal, any animal, for a day and not feel anything apart from the basics-the need to eat, defecate and copulate.

You Are Me?

So I walked around coolly with a rip in my shorts today, probably exhibiting my underwear to god knows who. But the good thing is that I was wearing nice, lacy ones so yea, that probably pacifies me a little bit.
I've been smoking a little hashish lately, just a little bit before going to sleep. After a point of time, I couldn't really resist it's charm. But (as always!) I've taken an oath to only smoke the green and not anything else, especially cigarettes.

Everything is always grey in life. It's never too white and never too black. It's always, just, grey. Maybe that's why human beings are such incredibly predictable and monotonous creatures.

A Pattern Is A Conspiracy

Things you do, keep coming back into your life.
So do habits.

Narcissus

Why don't you like me,
is it because of how brash I am?
Always saying whatever is on my mind,
being completely honest about my feelings all the time,
is it because I'm too straightforward for a girl?

Why don't you like me,
is it because I don't act prim and proper all the time?
I never dress up like a lady should,
Never pancake my face, never brush my hair,
is it because I'm not pretty enough?

Why don't you like me,
is it because I have the body of a nymph?
Or the fact that I'd rather discuss politics with you
than the latest episode of  a soap-opera.
is it because I'm too smart for my own good?

Why don't you like me,
is it because I'm perhaps better than you?
In more ways than you can even imagine.
And maybe you secretly want to be me, even if it's just for a day...

Death Is The Ultimate Salvation

I see all the things, I read between the lines just like I used to. But I don't react anymore. It's not worth it. I'd rather keep it all bottled up and hope to forget all about it one day.
That's the strange thing about life, just when you think you're not going to let those tiny little flickers of black affect you anymore and you're strong enough, you get sucked right back into the whole cycle of heartbreak, cynicism and indifference again.

My horoscope said that the week that passed was supposed to be all about heart-to-heart conversations. It had to be the most inaccurate predictions ever. Au contraire, I shut myself out even more this week.

My recurring nightmare is turning into reality. I don't know why but I feel like I was born in the wrong body, in the wrong generation and definitely in the wrong place. Either that, or I'm just plain stupid.

I see so many things being done to me by all those who are close to me, see so many things being done to me everyday. But I choose not to speak out against anything anymore. After a while, their obstinate and mindless logic really gets to me!

So yea, there can never really be a balance between the yin and the yang. They work inversely. If one increases, the other automatically decreases and vice-versa.
One can never ever truly be happy, not even when stoned out of their minds.

To be truly happy, one has to die.
Death is the ultimate and the only salvation!

I can't remember the last time that I had a crush on someone. It's such a beautiful feeling, to be in awe of somebody, be completely besotted.
Falling in love is a different ballgame altogether.

I wish I could be 11 again and crush on someone, Nick Carter perhaps.

My last crush was Zooey Deschanel. So here is a picture, in memory of her:

 (pic from http://www.wallpaperextreme.com/Celebrities/Zooey-Deschanel/Zooey-Deschanel-21.JPG)

Here He Comes!

He kept his woman close to his heart, a dagger on his bedside table.
To be safe.
He needed to be safe.

The whole universe was conspiring against him, or so he thought..

B(lo)ody

I pity those who constantly crib about their body-too fat, too thin etc.

I was very jittery about mine too. After the rape, I spent a good deal of time cutting it, burning it and loathing it. I couldn't stand my body. It felt as though it was scarred beyond repair. There were invisible, irreparable wounds all over it. I felt so ugly. My self confidence was at an all time low. I remember how the kids in my class would go out to play lock and key during the lunch break in school and I would always sit back in the classroom. I'd cook up excuses every time they asked me to join them. They stopped asking after a point of time. I hated my body even more then.I felt angry-why was my body so weak, why was my body not able to fight back?

I hated the male body even more. The only thing that they were good for was causing pain.
It hurt. It hurt like hell.
Like somebody was tearing my body apart.

I used to spend hours in front of the mirror. Staring at my body. Seeing carefully the changes that is was undergoing. When I was 13, I was pretty sure that my body wasn't the same as before. Thus I needed to move on. I needed to stop hating and blaming my body for what had happened to me.

Somehow, it had become super sensitive, extra alert. Any casual touch would set off the alarm. I don't remember when and how that toned down. I guess it was a slow, gradual process. Besides, once the intoxicants started started entering my body, I was no longer so paranoid. I was starting to calm down.

(But that however DOES NOT MEAN THAT I RECOMMEND GETTING HIGH TO SEEK SOLACE. It does not work that way, at all. It had severe consequences in my life)

The decision to start letting other people touch me, kiss me, hug me and make love to me was taken one random afternoon when I came back home from school. It was almost impulsive. I cut off my hair, cut it very short to sort of celebrate and start again from scratch. It was very therapeutic.

I decided to open myself up once again. I was back in sync with my body. Standing naked in front of the mirror was no longer painful.

It's never been since.
There's not a single day that has passed since, when I have not felt beautiful-both inside and out.

Cheap Thoughts, Only A Buck.

I'm phasing out more often than normal these days. I feel perpetually tired. It's like my body and my brain are two separate identities-functioning independently, almost as though they're fighting to prove their superiority over one another.

It's quite the riot.

But all is not dark and gloomy. Isolation is the key to emancipation. You phase out into your personal space-which cannot be invaded by anyone else. The relationship with yourself is the most sacred, all others are shallow and superficial. They are a trap. They curb your freedom. The chain you down.
They make you dependent on an external factor rather than yourself.

What I feel for the monster is a strange mixture of love and hate. While I love how it has changed me as a person-made me braver than the usual, more aware of myself. I hate how I have to try so hard to lead a supposed normal life-something which comes so naturally to most.

Having said that, I am not the only one with a sob story. Everybody has one. It's how well you hide it that matters.

 

bleh

I have started smoking again, after restraining myself for TWO BLOODY YEARS, I'm back to where I started. I feel really guilty but I really can't help it. This ongoing phase is pretty much sucking the life out of me.
I rolled a nice little joint for myself a few nights ago and finished it coolly without an aorta of guilt or shame.

Maybe this is my way of getting back at life. If it's going to be this shitty continually then I might as well end it sooner, one cancer stick at a time. (note: marijuana does not have too many ill-effects on the human body, it's tobacco that does)

I don't know why things are not working out for me. I have always been a believer in karma. I have always justified all the drama in my life by telling myself that it'll pass and lead me to a better future. But when will that 'better future' become the present?
I've lived for 20 years now and I'm sorry to say that the past 8 years have been extremely cruel to me for some reason or the other. It's not fair. I know, despite all my ramblings I do have a life better than many others so I shouldn't really crib, but the problem is there seems to be no end to my so-called misery.

I get past one obstacle and another one comes and hits me in the face.

I have stopped feeling sad and depressed. It's almost comical and amusing now. How bad could it possibly get from this point?!

Fate, seriously, stop picking on me.
It's high time that you did.
Why don't you pick on someone else instead, there are so many others like me out there!

Urban Disconnect

It's like I have a talent for putting my heart and soul into all the wrong things, the wrong places and the wrong people. As a result of which my faith in humanity gets shattered from time to time. Over and over again.

The last couple of weeks have been excruciating  for me. But I won't complain anymore. There's nobody who will listen anyway.

God's unwanted child.
Lonely as hell.

So I walk.
Away from this wretched city.
Away from my pain.
Away from myself.

I've walked too far away to come back home.
I've walked away, again...

Sweet Song- Blur

"I'm a darkened soul
My street's all pop music and gold
Our lives are on TV
You switch off and try to sleep
People get so lonely..." -Blur


I dream the same dream every night now. I've never felt so lost ever before in my life. I wish there was a sign-to show me the way. I've never felt this confused.
The memories are starting to fade. Disappearing bit by bit.

But they haven't gone away just yet. All it takes is one push, everything goes back into rewind mode again.

I remember the intensity in Monster's eyes. The colour of the shirt he wore. His flawless body. How amused he seemed. Yet determined.
I remember words. Stray actions. But nothing else.
Of the most twisted sexual encounter of my life.

Abuse is a mental thing.
The body heals in no time. The brain, unfortunately, isn't all that naive.


"It takes time to see what you have done
So I wean myself off slowly..."


And despite all the things that Monster made me go through, I still wish him well. I hope he leads a good life.


Some part of me wants to be 12 and do it all over again. I don't know why. Maybe because I am damaged beyond repair.
This isn't who I have become. This is who I am.


"But I hope I see the good in you come back again
I just believed in you..."

Maroon, Macaroon

I miss being a bitchy-bitch at times. If there's one thing that all this unnecessary aging is instilling in me, is to be sort of passive to all that is hurled my way. It's strange how all the noise doesn't bother me anymore. All the whispers seem to come from down below-all the more reason why I don't even pretend to get agitated anymore.

I have recurring dreams of the monster sometimes. That is the only thing that scares me. What if I meet him again? Do I have the strength to not break down if I do?

I have been sober for too damn long. I've been acting responsible for too damn long. I've been working too damn hard.
I need to loosen up.
I deserve a break.

Bring out the hashish.
It's high time that I bake a batch of brownies.