The Pact.

It was just one lousy beer. One lousy fucking beer. Usually it took about four for the underlying stupidity to surface and make me do something…well, stupid. Or reckless. Or a lethal combination of both.

I was with a friend S. It was one of those super boring evenings where you really have nothing to do but you just don’t wanna binge watch some crap on the screen. So we just decided to grab a few beers and kill the night. College huh.

About an hour later I and S are half way down the first beer and maybe it was just the beer (maybe that particular batch had a little extra something) or maybe it was just us, but we were really fucking buzzed. We were on the rooftop and it was a full moon day and the soft breeze carried the salty scent of the ocean.

So we start talking about life (surprise surprise) and S tells me how he is anxious to stop leeching off his parents and get a job and go out on his own. The dilemma being that he doesn’t want to work at a job. (who does?).

“Man, fuck a job. Fuck all that slave shit, go do something on your own.”
“yeah but…where the fuck do I start? What the fuck do I do? I have no idea. And all I get from people is this vague bullshit like “Follow your passion” or “chase your dreams“. Chase this (grabs reproductive organ) bitch. Gimme something helpful. Fucking clowns.”
“Hahaha yeah. Get a job. get a wife. Have a dozen kids. Retire when you’re too tired to do anything else”
I laugh. He laughs. The moon just watched.

I finish my beer and sit up. “You know what dude? I am never getting a job. I promise. Not to you. but to m- *burp* me. I am never getting a job. I am never settling down. Fuck the staus quo. I am going my own way, Fuck all this manufactured reality. Fuck the guy who got a job. I promise. I will not bend.”

I guess that fired S up. “You know what?……. Yeah. Fuck all that.”
He drained the bottle and smashed it against the other side of the wall. “Fuck a job”.

I grabbed mine and mimicked him. “Fuck marriage!”

He grabbed one of the many empty bottles lying around (it is a popular drinking spot) “Fuck adults!”. SMASH.

I fished out a whisky bottle. “Fuck social conventions!”

I let out a howl and S joins me.




S bends down and looks at me with a goofy grin. “Down to the last two bottles dude. Lets make a pact.” (I know…corny. But we meant it and we were drunk so fuck you.)

He hands me one, and clears his throat “We fucking swear on our balls that we will never bow down to society, social conventions or ever give a lovely flying fuck about what people think or say about us!” (I know. pretty colorful huh?) With a war cry he smashes the last bottle against the wall.

Me still laughing, I follow suit. Except instead of throwing it against the wall, I smash it against the wall while still holding it. Still laughing I hi5 S.

There is a wet splash. I guess there was still some booze left in the bottle. But as I held my hand up I saw the bone of my forefinger in the pale moonlight.

“Yo come check this out”. Still laughing.



S sees the blood and completely loses his shit. Drives me to the university health center on his motorbike. They don’t have an X-ray so they call an ambulance.

Never been in an ambulance before. Am still buzzed and pretty calm but S is shaken up by the blood and he doesn’t want to look at the bone.

At the hospital. Doc smells the booze and makes us confess before stitching it up after the X-ray.

3.A.M in the morning when we finally step out.


S lights 2 cigarettes and passes me one. (My hand is bandaged too heavily).
I pull hard and release a cloud of smoke and watch it float away. Dreamy. Never gets old. “My lungs are so happy”.
S laughs. “You’re fucking loco man. Crazy motherfucker. The only thing I want right now is my bed.”
We puff away, the same moon above us.
I chuckle. “Hell of a pact though right?”
S glances at his watch. “Yeah man sure. I wish these fucking ambulances did return journeys or something”.
“Hmm. Let’s just get an auto”

As we ride back I glance at my hand. The whole thing probably meant nothing. And S and I never mention the pact whenever we told the story over the next few weeks. I am pretty sure he forgot actually.

But not me.

The 9 stitches will scar and be a reminder for the rest of my life.



“We’re a generation of men raised by women”

Quote’s from Fight Club for those who are wondering.

A generation of clueless men. A generation trying to live up to some imaginary expectations of a vague entity.

So the question is, what makes a man? Cliched? Sure. Pertinent? Undoubtedly. Forget what a women expects of you, forget how you’re supposed to be like and forget everything you thought you knew about how society works. Empty the cup. Make space. And maybe we’ll figure it out. Maybe.

And then there was nothing.

School made me nervous.
Exams made me nervous.
Result day made me nervous.
Girls made me nervous.
Tomorrow made me super nervous.

Then I started getting high.

The cigarettes fucked my lungs.
The pot fucked my motivation.
The porn fucked my emotions.
The television fucked my perception.

Then I stopped.

I stopped smoking pot and drinking booze.
I stopped jacking off to pixels.
I started going to the gym.
I started getting things done.

I got clean.

The nervousness increased.
The restlessness increased.
The desperation increased.
The anger.
The fear.
The self-loathing.
More frustration.

Now am here.

Still no sex.
still no money.
Still no clear direction.
Still emotionally fucked.

But I woke up the other day at 5 in the morning as usual and I went out the terrace. I saw the stars and the moon, and I watched them till the sun peaked out. Then I watched the sun. And heard the birds sing. And breathed in the cool morning air. Salty from the ocean nearby.

My mind empty.

My soul calm.

I didn’t want anything anymore. Too tired.

Too tired from trying.

So i just watched.

And I let go…


I let go.

SoulKill Theory

Do you know the difference between being alone and being lonely?
Everybody wants to be alone from time to time, but nobody ever wants to be lonely.

He’d switched his phone off an hour ago. Rum and coke, cigarettes, a spliff and himself. Two hours later, head in the toilet, vomiting his soul out, he did not notice the watch go by 12:00. Happy birthday.

I saw a man cry in the rain at 2 in the morning on an empty street. I was on the balcony of a friend’s apartment and just staring out into the splatter when i saw him, he walked steady. The last guy i saw was drunk and that was 20 minutes ago, he was pretty fucked up. But this guy was sober. He stopped and held the lamppost, and then i saw him clutch at his chest like it hurt. Heart attack? Then he was shaking, and then he turned his face my way and i saw it. The sorrow, the sadness, the pain. He must have been there for 2-3 minutes. I did not take my eyes off him. His shaking eventually ceased and he was just standing there, drenched, face down. And he lifted his face up to the sky, the rain beating down on and he sighed. I remember thinking that must have felt good, the sigh. And he looked around as if to see if someone was watching. He never saw me and he probably thinks no one saw him. But i did. I saw him that night.

Something very depressing about begging nothing in particular to stop doing or being nothing in particular to ease your pain. Please what? Who are you talking to? What do you want? But nothing. Just “please”.

Urban Dream Ascension

He looked over the sparkling city skyline and smiled. The night was chilly and his breath mixed with the cigarette smoke left long trails.

He was on the balcony on a skyscraper, high enough to hear nothing of the noises far below, high enough to peacefully meditate on the distant building lights, those dream like apparitions. Lights meant life and life meant stories, and at least a few of them worth listening.

But tonight he was content, tonight he was at peace with not knowing and not wondering.

He observed his mind, waiting to see if it would come up with something to say. Nothing. Nothing at all.

He chugged his drink down, stubbed the cancer stick out and lit another. Still nothing.

Smiling into the night he continued gazing at the lights, glazed eyes reflecting, watching, observing.

Right And Wrong….And Everything In Between.

Is anyone ever wrong? No one told me or you it’s wrong to kill your mother or any other person for that matter but we know this is wrong. It is a basic sense of right and wrong that is an integral part of humanity that has been passed down through the generations. So what about the crimes that are legally termed as crimes and everyone (not really everyone but lets go with it) collectively agrees is bad and we punish that person who has committed the crime. But does the collective agreement of what is right or wrong really make it right or wrong? Ok let’s go basic : what is wrong and right? How did we reach this position where (it seems) we have a set of activities/actions that are “right” and ”wrong”? Noble cause corruption. The idea that people might use unethical/unjust/immoral means to reach an end that is for the ”greater good”. But our perspectives are limited (debatable). We see the story from our eyes. We are always the good guys. The victim. The martyr. The person to whom things happen. And we all have a perspective, so unless a person accepts by himself/herself that what they did was wrong and punish themselves as they seem fit, it is unfair to punish/persecute them legally or otherwise. If the judgement is coming externally it is a false one. It’s gotta be. Who are others to pass judgement? What authority do they have and how did they acquire it?A state of nature a.k.a pre social contract (theory) seems to be the ideal sate of human existence. but what about the murderers, the rapists, the thieves and the stronger crushing the weaker when there is no legal institution or an external entity that punishes the wrong doers? Always assuming the wrong doers will fear the consequences of the punishment and restrain from committing the crime? isn’t the will to harm punishable if the restraint only comes due to the fear of punishment? Because the intention is still there. It’s a part of the person. But we accept that or rather do not concern ourselves with that because it doesn’t affect ”reality”(not like we CAN do anything, hence the punishment should be self inflicted). So we are not in a state of nature. We have courts, legal institutions that are meant to prevent ”bad” things. well guess what…bad things happen everyday, every minute, every second all around you. You are walking amongst the abusers and the abused. ”They” is us. A sports team representing your town or university is cheered when won, you boast of the things that people around you achieve as long as they represent your school, your frat house, your society, nation, religion whatever. But when two girls are raped, violated, humiliated, and then hung from a tree by the members of their own village (their crime being that they were born females and fell in love with men outside their caste{one more concept created by the collective}) we isolate the case. We sympathize but it pretty much ends there. But the judgement to rape and kill them came from external ”authority” (the village panchayat). So if a majority of us are the ”bad” guys doesn’t that make us the good guys? just because we are stronger the other side wont have a choice but to conform to what we then term as ”right” and ”wrong” and eventually it will get itched into the minds of the collective whole and a few generations later even the notion of questioning is gone, thus completely rendering the concept of good and bad obsolete. We don’t accept the rapists, the murderers and the wrong doers. Suddenly they are outsiders and you have nothing to do with them. Hypocrites. that’s what we are. Do you break down and cry when a kid goes to his school and shoots his peers? Probably. but do you do the same when another kid joins the army and does the killing in another nation? different people. same blood. but it’s for a ”cause” you might say. But a cause can be created. it can be made of nothing. so it’s back to what is and what isn’t. Do you look inside and around and realize that you grew up in the same society as the rapists, the killers, the common thieves? But you are nothing like them, oh no! You would never do something like that. Because you are you. The good guy. And yet you are the same. The product of an abomination called society. Society is a concept. It is abstract. You can communicate with people, talk to them, debate, reach an agreement e.t.c but when it is ”society” its is an institution. It’s not really there. And you cant’ communicate with something that doesn’t really exist. So what is right and wrong? I have no idea.

I am sorry if you were expecting a conclusion to this….mmmm…..what do i call it? rant? Just a sudden urge to write under the Influence of a certain mind altering substance i guess. Anyway there is no conclusion. I have no answers. I don’t know much of anything. And i would hate to look like am trying to say something profound because am not…