Sunday, December 17, 2006

Life's a party!

There are some quaint moments in everyone’s life when they feel stupid and sane at the same time. I feel sensible and sappy, in equal parts, many times. Like an Uppish, high-society party I went to, this weekend. Bellies swirled like some mid-winter tempest in the fashionable kegger, straight out of a famed Shakespearean work. Expensive arch-lights blazed in the background and flashers appeared to blinker upon glossed-over faces. American colonial-style decking, neoclassical columns, baroque plasterwork, Tudor beams. I clutched a drink tightly in my hand. Well past mid-night, babes sashayed in their bare minimals. Being a tad old fashioned -- in my mid-twenties -- I was shamelessly clad in woolens. I beamed fake smiles, like all others. I danced briefly, upon being invited by a nubile perfumed girl. My brawny buddy Barry was the center of some attraction and drew considerable female attention. Like other parties of the kind, it was first silent, then talky, then argumentative, then disputatious, then unintelligible, then altogether, then inarticulate, and then drunk. That’s where it all culminates. It was fun, nonetheless.

Driving back home in Delhi winters -- at 3 in the night – I think of what New York must have looked like a century back, perhaps. It is calm and chaotic at the same time; trucks entering Delhi bring in milk and vegetables and plastic pipes and whatnot. It is an endless stream of automobiles finding their way in. Trying to satiate the appetite of the capital city of the world’s fastest growing economy. People – and there are loads of them – sleep, huddled together upon roadside kerbs. Trying to hold on to each other’s warmth on a harsh, cold wintry night. Some elderly beggars were trying to light a bonfire. From inside the thermal confines of my car, I could see their blankets were not warm enough to keep out the cruel chill. Even in 9.5% growth. Wonder, how those beauteous babes managed!

Back home, I hit upon some lines, I couldn’t help adapt. Ya, I know. Stupid, Sam, someone may think. It is not that I don’t think of life without my distant dream. It is just that one practically cannot stop dreaming. Moreover, the thoughts are not the remnants of any party line. It's just that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what I really think. Just me.

The lines, my friends, before I drift again:

Why do I holler inside?
Why do I try and hide
Why do I still care
Why do I think you there.

Why do I love you?
Why do I think you love me too
Why do I feel pain
Why do I feel I'm insane.

Why do I want you so bad?
Why do I get a li'l mad
Why do I miss you
Why do I need you.

Why do I still love you?

Samy

14 comments:

Anonymous said...

sameer bhat

YOU ROCK!!!!!!!

Yana, 37, Bangalore

Anonymous said...

The write-up is a first hand account from a boy who simply but powerfully manages to tell the ultimate truth of our times.

There are two worlds out there: The rich, who are unaffected by the misery around us and the poor who have to suffer all the time. Then there is this true feeling of love even after experiencing all the worldly pleasures.

Surely it takes someone like sameer to write so soulfully.

Great post. God bless you, my child.

Dr Anil K Jha
Ranchi

Anonymous said...

You cut through the barebones of our times to expose the rawness beneath.

Karen, Quebec
Canada

Anonymous said...

marvellous. superb. beyond words.

Anju

Anonymous said...

Someone goes to the most happening parties in the town with his rich pals and doesn't care for poor souls. hehe kidding.

Great piece, sameer.
we love u all.

Shahana

Anonymous said...

wow, great description. u looked cute in the party, by the way

R

Anonymous said...

Dreams. Noone can live them as well, as u do.
;)

Anonymous said...

How can u write so well? so quickly? so intelligently? These comparisons? You are not only a very good journalist but an extremely talented writer also.

Raj K,
NDTV Profit

Anonymous said...

fell in love with u...
again.

SF

Pragnya said...

there is another party that you have to go to on wednesday...
do not forget and do not be busy!

Love
Pragnya (Pragya)

Anonymous said...

STUNNING,

bas tum hi likh sakte ho itna acha,

jiyo buddy

neeraj (ur journalism class-fellow)
Tehelka, New Delhi

Anonymous said...

It is high time thoughful people like u come together and do some thing for our society's underbelly(the poor and unpriviledges). You've the power to write, to influence minds and stir souls.

Fouzia

Anonymous said...

you write the best blogs

s mattoo

Anonymous said...

phew -- very good

jo