this is not a poem..

excerpts from the travel diary-

It looks like the plane has landed.

Ting!

People get up in a hurry and start to leave. The aisle quickly fills up. Where are all these people rushing to?
Me, happily sitting in my seat, not in a hurry, no, not at all !

“Chalo, bete?”, the aunty next to me says, already on her feet with her purse in her hands. What the hell is SHE in such a hurry for?!

I put on my headphones and pretend not to hear her. Auntyji looks shocked. She stands for sometime wondering what to do. I’m quivering inside.

Looking back, I wonder what made me behave that way. Normally I’m a very nice and polite person. Maybe it was the bloody Mary’s that caused the irritation and fearlessness.

She stands for sometime wondering what to do. She might even be saying something, but I can’t hear her over ‘audioslave’ blaring through my headphones. She touches me on my shoulder. I don’t react. I almost can’t control my laughter, wondering what Auntyji is going to try next! He he he! A half-smile forms on my lips, but I quickly swallow it down.

Finally she gives up, and sits down, staring at me with ferocious eyes. If looks could kill, I would have died right then! I’m just glad she’s alone on the flight or there would be some angry Punjabi relative she would have called. Not that I would have cared.
I’m in the mood for a nice argument today.

I suppose she must be wondering what kind of kid I am, but frankly, I couldn’t care less.
She should have figured that out when I was having all those cocktails, and if she hadn’t given me all those disapproving stares, she wouldn’t be in this position right now.

I wait till everyone else has gone, and one of the cute airhostesses comes with a fake smile and tells me I have to leave now. I pick up my bag and leave without looking back at Auntyji. When I reach the gateway, I look back for a final glance. She still looks very pissed off. He he.

I look around in the airport pondering what to do next. I finally decide to buy an over-priced sandwich since I’m pretty hungry.
How is it possible for a tiny sandwich to cost 80 Rs.?
Anyway, I ask the guy at the shop whether there are any bars or pubs at this airport.” No”, he replies with a smile. I return the smile, he returns the change, and I grab my sandwich and leave.

Why would they not have alcohol in the airport? Maybe they don’t want the pilots to get drunk. I can imagine it now. Signs at the airport saying ‘don’t drink and fly.’

I decide to go and get my luggage finally.
On my way to the exit, I spot Auntyji! sitting on a chair with a disappointed look. She looks kind of sad, looking here and there for someone. I almost feel sorry for her. Almost.
Then I remember those disgusting looks she was giving me during the flight, and the anger comes rushing back. You shouldn’t judge people so easily, lady.

Anyways, I guess who ever was supposed to pick her up must be really late. Well, I’m sure whoever it is (husband/son/daughter/random relative), they’re going to get some nice hate-filled words from Auntyji’s mouth. She was already pissed off at me, and now she’s positively furious!
She catches me looking at her and quickly lowers her gaze. Wow!
So now SHE’S embarrassed!
Wanted to get out in a hurry but turns out she has to wait some more.
Way to go, Auntyji!


Grinning to myself, I walk outside the exit into the glaring sunlight.

White stuff...

White threads,
swimming around in transparency.

I'm a mass-murderer,
With every jerk of my fist,
Pumping out millions of potential lives.

Curious creatures,
swimming around on my bed-sheets,
in their futile search for the ever-elusive egg.

Their potential for life wasted,
for my sadistic pleasures.

Though I don't do it as often as before.
Why is that?
Am i going impotent, older, sterile?

Are my bags running dry,
from over-use,
or exhaustion.?

Are these over-heated circuits,
of my white machine,
destroying my daughters,
before they're born?

But as i orgasm once more,
none of it matters,
And i am truly, blissfully,
happy and in heaven.

and some people say abortion is murder.
well,
what does that must make me?
a mass murderer?

The Run

I gather the strands of my hair,
pull them back,
tie a pony,
shoulders hunched,
ready for action.

I leap into the air,
and start the run,
the sand below my bare feet,
and between my toes,
the wind in my hair.

I inhale deply,
and my lungs take in,
the sweet fresh ocean breeze,
and I exhale,
dark polluted breath from my black lungs.

I feel my heart beating,
so fast,
so hard,
the waves recede,
and now i run on wet sand,
leaving my footprints for all to see.

I know that they will go,
when the next waves come,
And still i keep running.

Till the adrenalin is pumping through my veins,
the stitch in my stomach,
pains more than ever.

Running away from all the worries,
all the problems,
all the silent SCREAMS!,
all the pain,
till i can run no more.

I sit on the beach,
contemplating my life,
i take a cigarette,
put it in my mouth,
and light it.

And as the nicotine rushes to my brain,
i suddenly wonder,
Where the fuck are my sandals ?!

something i made in photoshop...
just a lot of different brushes of different sizes and colors..
overlapping on each other..
black background is also some paint..
in short... there's no photo involved in this.. it's made from scratch!
but anyone who has ever used photoshop must already know that , right?!
i know it's pretty lame but you'll have to see it anyway..
and now get off your lazy asses and open photoshop.!!
there's lots of stuff you can learn pretty quickly!!
just do it!

A Hunger for knowledge..

This hunger for knowledge,

is not letting go,

i know too many things,

that i ought not to know.

information sticks like my brain is flypaper,

and i always remember the stuff a long time later.

it's like a bottomless pit that will never fill up,

till all the things that everyone knows has been soaked up

so i read till i drop,

i try but i can't stop

my brain is already full,

but there's always more room on the top.

and slowly everything starts to dissatisfy me,

because i know so much,

and the world is not enough.

i keep evolving,

and they seem to stand so till.

i have broadened my perceptions,

and now they seem smaller still

and it reaches the point,

i become an intellectual giant,

stomping on others philosophies,

as if it were an ant.

but i know that pride always goes for a fall,

and the real truth is,

when you know everything,

you know nothing at all.

a Hunger for Knowledge by ~felix-bambaboy

This hunger for knowledge,
is not letting go,
i know too many things,
that i ought not to know. information sticks like my brain is flypaper,
and i always remember the stuff a long time later.
it's like a bottomless pit that will never fill up,
till all the things that everyone knows has been soaked up
so i read till i drop,
i try but i can't stop
my brain is already full,
but there's always more room on the top.
and slowly everything starts to dissatisfy me,
because i k

Drag and Drop to Collect

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This hunger for knowledge,
is not letting go,
i know too many things,
that i ought not to know. information sticks like my brain is flypaper,
and i always remember the stuff a long time later.
it's like a bottomless pit that will never fill up,
till all the things that everyone knows has been soaked up
so i read till i drop,
i try but i can't stop
my brain is already full,
but there's always more room on the top.
and slowly everything starts to dissatisfy me,
because i k

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©2009 ~felix-bambaboy

The city of Chennai\madras

namma chennai= our chennai।
The tamil letters read kaa-pi..which is how "coffee" is pronounced in tamil.

this is just one of the many temples.. seriously, there are just too many of them..!
there's something about chennai... that's special..

maybe it's the jasmine flowers in every female's hair... the heavenly smell of flowers assaulting your olfactory senses at the hundreds of flower shops , and also every time you walk by a lady... it feels like you're walking in a garden of jasmine flowers rather than a city...

or perhaps the temples at every corner...
the overwhelming religiousness.. specifically in hinduism which is one of the first things you notice... by way of all the foreheads decorated with chandanam, vibhooti or some other form of tilak...you'll hardly ever find a plain forehead anywhere...

super stardom next to godliness...the fan clubs at every corner... devotees of the magnificent rajnikanth,skilled kamal hassan,charismatic vijay,muscular surya... and cherubic namitha... one often wonders whether this love for film stars is misplaced but when you find people at a bar arguing about their respective stars like little fan boys, you realize that they really love them... and respect them too.. which is more than what can be said about fans in other places...

of course they love their language to death... but i think they have reason for that too.. i have often heard people exclaiming about the beauty of Tamil.. add the great poets and philosophers and there's sufficient reason for their devotion o the language..

the food.. of course now where do i begin..?! sadly, the majority of the city is vegetarian but i adjusted quite quickly and compensated by gorging on masala dosas and chilli porathas.. sadly the north indians who have shifted here seem to still eat only their same old food... what is it that makes people so reluctant to change..?
wherever they go, they want the same type of food and culture that they grew up on.. to the extent that i know people who, even when they go on vacation to a place, eat the same food they get at home instead of having the local cuisines..
sadly, this tradition is more prevalent in Indians....

anyways, i seem to have gone completely off my rocker..
i better sign off before i start to write too much.! this was supposed to be about only Chennai, anyways... so bye! and congratulate me for my first deviant..!