Author Archives: chiruhr

About chiruhr

An engineer by profession. A Blogger by choice. Comes from a tiny village of state Karnataka. A little snobby, a lot intuitive. Exists only on the internet because of his unrealistic visions. Loves cricket, football and Eminem more than himself often gets lost in thoughts. Writes because people can hear him and he want people to listen to his musings. Considers himself as a thinker with the drinking problem. Hasn’t achieved anything more than eating 10 Dosa’s in one go. Being funny and creepy is his thing. At a given point of time, he is either on top of the world or in depths of despair. Sapiosexual and whimsical at times and has embarrassed himself for being so. His strengths are he can speak alien with only using English words, writing without a care and when something weird happens around, he can almost there like there’s no one around him. His major weakness is he cannot live a day without making fun of his own deeds. He is fat, short, too far from being called cute, bragger, overthinker, makes you feel awkward after a little amount of time. Follow me for some amateur rambling. I promise to be pensive. Comment and share your thoughts on my post because they mean a lot. And here is how I don’t look.

Forever and Over.

On a bright Sunday, he found himself playing in a green field. A very unrecognizable place but people around him were his friends. As time passed, he saw dark clouds appear and the day started to become gloomy. He started running as it started to drizzle. For some reason, he wanted to scream. But suddenly he felt a big lump in his throat and his mouth was filled with ice.

Weird. He put his fingers inside his mouth and tried emptying his mouth. But the more he dug, the more difficult to get it out. He was suffocating. He was feeling helpless. It’s almost as if he had lost the ability to speak. He was paralyzed, unable to spell anything. He stopped running and began freaking out. The fear began to fill his lungs and he let out a big clueless shake of the head.

Then he was awake. It was all a dream. But Why such a dream out of nowhere?

He sat and pondered with everything he could imagine of. He analyzed the possible causes. Then he could see the clues. It was coming out of his hidden anger. The inner outrage he hasn’t been able to throw at anybody. Because he just kept swallowing all the pain.

He was badly affected by a recent trauma. After it was all over between them.

Such a huge void. Nothing filled in except sorrow and self-loathe. He tried to smile but there was no soul to it. Almost a dead smile. Like a drawing on his face. What happened? Everything was perfect. How did everything collapse even after his strong pull to keep the entropy low?

Is there an escape from this feeling? Am I obligated to feel like shit?

His thoughts roamed around the time he met her. The wind smelled of jasmine flowers, carrying the thoughts of the beginning of something. The road was a bed of roses and each step he took was a blessing. She sang the poems that gave birth to feelings undiscovered, hidden in him. They spoke of discrete things discreetly. Their stories always swayed in the cold feet of uncertainty. His hopes too. For he never knew he had this side. Each message was a firefly lighting his empty dark heart, and each touch sparked a pleasant explosion.

An Ocean that would never dry. The warmth of her care was from distant stars. Can something be better than this feeling he thought? His existence made sense. It was just right. The inner battles disappeared and everything seemed to be in order. The glories which his demons carried were finally ended. His imaginations only stretched further into future when he was with her. Forever was built around her. It’s not easy. They had worked on a prototype even. Our kids would wear glasses too they’d say.

On the rocks of late night fights, they had wept. In the garden brimming with eternal sunshine, they had laughed. And when she asked him how all of this is going to work, he was simply stupefied.

She was questioning the longevity and manner of how he and she would work. As if, there is a framework for all the pieces to fall in places that he should be aware of and convey it to her. Well, to be honest, they were yet to figure out what it was. To pave the way for future of them, they hadn’t fully lived the present. While she clung on to defining what was it between them, He silently lived a dream all along. And yet, like all dreams, this ended too.

Abruptly, like a protagonist meets with an accident and dies in the middle of the book. He had feared it all along. They both were eternal victims of Murphy’s Law and the bad did happen.

Now he sat with a journal that is getting old and making less sense with each day. He could never explain how painful it is and how badly he is hurt because it would not make sense to anybody. The measure of emotional pain does not have a scale. He tried to resort philosophy and spiritualism. He couldn’t completely drown himself in, in either of those. He clearly knew the path ahead will be bleak. It was bleak.

In these times of perplexity, there was very little room to find the answers. Nothing made sense. But no matter how hard he tried to be normal, it’d take a single passing of past to make every effort go in vain. With all that is left, he made a prayer.
That – “let both of us move on from here with grace. Let courage be his and merry be hers. Let there be no paths which may lead to us meeting again. Let there be no question raised on the meaning of short-term relationships. Let each other find (im) perfections that our relationship lacked. Let there be no effort made to fix what’s broken. Let there be a conclusion to all the sorrow caused by two flawed souls on a suicide mission. Let at least one of us be struck with amnesia and by all egotistic intentions, let it be me”.

He now just waits for his prayers to be answered.

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Fuck you 2016, You were horrible.

12 months of Sobriety!

I can’t imagine myself to be so nice about something dreadful as the year 2016. Saying Fuck you only sells short the nightmare which I am yet to wake up from. 2016 should already get over from me, to pave the way for a bleak 2017 because I honestly have had enough of it. 2016 doesn’t have any clue of what it did to me neither do I. Seriously, What the hell did I do in 2016? Took a momentary pause in time? Or completely fucked it up against all will.

Okay, here are my reasons.

To begin with, in the year 2016, I searched in google for the nearest counseling centers, I watched YouTube videos on how to overcome depression. Two things which I can’t remember doing in earlier years.

2016 was like the movie Sanam Teri Kasam. I thought it will have a better ending. But it didn’t.

2016 told me that “There are sorrow and pain in everyone’s life, but every now and then there’s a ray of light that melts the loneliness in your heart and brings comfort like hot soup and a soft bed” but later, it pinched my nipples and said “Just kidding, have this hot, stressed-out head and awful Latte”.

2016 served me with a salad. It was a mixture of confusion, disgust and a feeling of always being completely lost. It wasn’t hatred, fear or jealousy. I felt naive. I succumbed to the whole sadness in it. I drowned and reached further down. And there was rock bottom.

It was nothing like whatever I have felt till now. It was new. It made me wander in streets, not respond to people and worse, — I lost appetite. It surely made no sense to me — finding the root of it. Maybe I knew but just couldn’t accept it.

In 2016, I yelled at my friends over petty things.

I thought and thought till my head started to hurt.

I couldn’t find a way to say exactly how I was feeling and also couldn’t hold the drama from inside. It came out in tears, in a series of chained depressing thoughts and finally I crashed down on a table.

2016 was about meeting interesting people, building too much about them in the head, and then getting disappointed.

Fuck you 2016, for making me go behind people being completely nonchalant about my self-worth. Also, Fuck you for turning them into monsters and leaving me astray in a cosmos of melancholy.

Fuck you for making me feel like a plastic bag, a worthless piece of shit, a potato, a loser, a Gunther, a nomad, a lone wanderer and a frog.

Fuck you for creating a huge crater and dumping me inside, while always pretending you had no part in it.

Err! Haters can say that it was not the year 2016 but my actions which led to all this but No, That is not the case. Look, I am just not showing the finger to 2016, instead, I will go up to god and gesture this against 2016.

 

I honestly want the events to be reversed and analyzed again. Check if I really deserved all of it. I cannot just walk away witnessing everything go worse. But we don’t have reviews in life. Neither can we stand against umpire’s decision. In this case, the Almighty.

But, I’m no walker.

Fuck you 2016, for being an agonizing heap of anxiety, a disgusting grotesque period in time, and for nurturing phoniness throughout.

Fuck your inclination towards ripping off every piece of motivation that pushed me to fight. Fuck you, for promoting loathe.

Fuck your shameless disposition to laud the fake and stomp on propriety.

Seriously, Fuck you 2016.

Haste and Patience.

Hey Dear Reader,

It’s been long since I told you about my life. You kept asking me when I would speak up. I doubted myself whether I would ever write something. Because to write – you gotta feel something. I feel nothing. Now, if I have to gather up any creativity left in me to write about the hollowness or the small pit of thoughts I ponder about, this post could be it. It is a dead man’s punch, look for yourself whether he has anything up his sleeves.

Jeez. I talk like a person who has seen everything in life and tired by the ugly truth in it. I wish I could sound positive. But nobody does these days. All of my friends these days start the conversation with a note “it’s boring”. I put my effort in making it the most interesting conversation possible but it is either I get tired of doing it all the time or they don’t find it interesting anymore. Even Game of thrones is becoming boring for them.

I wake up every day with a zeal to conquer the world but by the end of the day, I am covered in self-doubt. At some point, I had even reached the “Compare-Despair”. I cannot ever earn that much money like him, I cannot get a girl like her. Such a putz I am. I must be in some kind of never-ending Comatose or a mare’s nest. For now, that is how it feels like. It is survival more than money making.

It took me a lot of time to digest the fact that it has been one year since I left the college. I miss those days when I used to spend an entire day solving word puzzles in Library, binge watching serials in the hostel and wait for all of my 15 friends just to go for dinner. It was like a festival. Every moment crowded with friends. But now, it is different. It is just empty and alone. All I can hear is my own voice. I just cannot be myself. I have to wear a fake attitude. A false bravado. I feel exposed. I feel naked and left to find my clothes. It is not a pretty sight.

There is a harsh truth in everything. You get disappointed when you become aware of it. It changes the way you look at things. It is like reading a book. It is the same lines which convey different meaning every time you read. They say life gets better. No, it gets clearer. Every passing day, the fog clears and you get to see people differently and the whole experience. I wasn’t prepared for any of this. There is the beauty in it. A lost boy finding paths in his journey.

But hey, I did find a reason to wake up in the morning and survive till night. I did find a friend who makes my day bright. In the end, that is how life works. You solve one problem, then the next. And another. One thing at a time and it compounds. Make tiny tweaks, they make the big changes. Just remember, what doesn’t kill you, only makes you stronger.

Thanks for reading.

With Love,

A Fighter.

A Late Journal

Dear Self,

There was a black goat at the grocery shop today. It looked scary. Something told me that it didn’t particularly like me. Before I could calculate the exact time when I should start to run, it had already begun chasing me.

So, What do I do when there is an angry goat is seconds away from doing this to me?

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I am thinking nothing is bad than this. I thought the same the last time I was hurt, confused and left to ponder but I am obliged now to say so. This is the worst summer. This is the lowest point in my life. I wish we had a measure for it so that the next time I’m low, there is a card that tells me “hey, it’s not bad as before, don’t overthink”.

My table, My bed, My cubicle, and all the other things I have an affair with are telling me that I am living a bizarre life.

I have lost people and creativity.

Yet, I still have to be in the race and run.

I support RCB and Arsenal and both have won nothing in last 9 years. I wish starks ruled the Seven Kingdoms but the entire house is now left with a blind girl, a cripple, a bastard, a stupid and a worthless Rickon.

I sit to write down but nothing comes to mind. I move away from the screen and all negative things fill up the empty spaces. I wish my blog was as full as my mind and my mind as empty as plain white paper.

Everyone I am close with are present geographically all over the places and I hardly get to meet them. Texts and phone talks are so cliches, I try to stay away from anything virtual. Sometimes I get tired of talking to myself or feeling lonely in a crowded place. I want to break out.

I am crawling to reach anywhere . Limping, falling on knees, sweating, yielding and then getting back at it again.

I am consistently failing to understand what life is all about. I come up with an understanding. I try to link it with every day’s events and then boom, it turns out that I had it all wrong. I have to decide whether I should look for answers or just leave the question blank.

My thoughts squander over pity things. A face looms over with eyes that aren’t bright, a chin faking an expression, lips trying to say things masking the truth.

I chose to laugh somehow. On the surface. The laugh sometimes becomes hysterical at times because when I expect least from people, they even fail to reach least of my expectations.

I do this.

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So, at this point, as I laugh again, I have to believe that all bad things have an end.

That it is okay to fail.

That the over-hyped “Everything will be alright” and “This too shall pass” are true.

I will press on. I will persevere. I will make time for friends, family, and blog. I will rise up and shine unless life has something else planned for me.

 

 

My Long term Relationship With I Don’t know!

My friend has just lost his job. He had not found the road at all. When he finally did, his boss fired him for coming 5 minutes late to office. He called me from a bus, lost in a city where he knew no one. I didn’t pick up the call. I was in office. I am really tired of telling people this reason  but missing his call was the meanest thing I did being a friend. I called later that night and I was blinded by the sheer sadness it had with it.

He asked me for solutions. Honestly, I didn’t have any. 

He asked me What should he do now. I Didn’t know. 

There was this girl whom I met years ago. What I could make of her first interaction with me was, she is a bad girl. It is not that I judged her right away at the first time but it is my very instinct that categorizes people suddenly. I don’t have a control over it neither it ever stops me from grouping people into the good / bad category.

I cannot figure out anymore. Do we have the right to call someone bad? Even if we had, how will we define bad? Lately, I’ve noticed I had got everything wrong in this perspective. People whom I thought bad are so comforting & good to me now and whom I thought were good, now make me wanna stab them. So, it slowly becomes a puzzle. The notion of Bad.

The same girl recently asked me if she was a bitch. I didn’t know. 

Rahul brought me a band that tracks my fitness level. I set a goal of walking 2000 steps per day. I told myself that I will walk so many steps no matter what. I did 3000 steps that day. I set 4000 as my new goal. I walked 8000 the next day. The app Congratulated me for burning so many grams of fat and calories.

I was happy. I hoped that one day the fat that has built a rubber wall around my belly would someday vanish. I showed the stats to my colleague. He said, “Way to go!”.

The same day, I ate a complete south Indian meal that had more than 25 items in it. The Worst thing is, I ate in front of my colleague.

He asked, “This meal is soo gonna help you burn calories, right?”. Oh, the irony.

It was plumb. I was out of my mind. I don’t know was written all over my face.

My Little brother was doing his science homework. He came to me with a doubt and a curious face asking “can men get pregnant?”. I was more than a little surprised. What has got him thinking like that? “What exactly do you wanna know?” I asked.

“My Science teacher asked us this question after the class and told us to find the answer by tomorrow,” He said.

I asked him to talk with his friends, come back to me and tell what she actually had asked. He came 10 minutes later.

“A male can get pregnant and deliver babies in certain species. She wants to know which animal is that”. He said.

I don’t –  Wait, I knew the answer for this one, though.

“Tell your teacher that it is a seahorse,” I said. I wanted to explain him about how it works but he is a boy. I knew, he’ll come to know eventually. Maybe he already knew, I don’t know.

I’ve always struggled with I don’t know. Like the time when the gravitational waves stretched and squeezed me, I didn’t know what they were. Like the time I wrote 10 pages of crap for a girl, and the universe asked me why I was doing that anyway?.

There are too many things to know. Maybe there is nothing to be known at all. All the explanations can be a woven story we just listen to without questioning.  Digging the Why’s,What’s and How’s can twist your neurons like an earphone cable. You can read books as many as you want but they don’t have the answer for everything.

Maybe life is not about knowing the answers. Maybe life is about finding the answers. When questions hit you in the nuts, you might have to just say ‘owie’ and lie down. Then get up and find what it meant.

My lost friend has a new job now. He is more than happy.

My little brother still sucks at biology.

I’ve hit the goal of 5000 steps, 7 days in a row.

I can talk about gravitational waves for hours if you’re kind enough to listen.

The 10-page crap is finally in the hands of the girl and she now wants me to write the Eulogy for her – The Fault In Our Stars Style!

So I’ll be clueless, but not ignorant. I’ll try to solve 1% of the puzzle if not the whole. 

Thank you, lovely reader. Have a great day.

 

A GAME OF THRONES IS SEXY

I got Laid. For the first time.

I finished and moved aside tired. But she wasn’t. She was lying there, ready to go again. I had ripped her apart but not enough. Maybe an all nighter would not be enough for her. I didn’t even cuddle. I went for an awesome sleep. I woke the next morning. Regretting about last night. But she acted as if she was okay and still fresh.

I am not talking about a girl here. By She, I am referring to “A Game of thrones by George R R Martin”. This book has got me addicted, hooked, laid, and roam around in Bangalore streets thinking about dragons.

It has been just two days since I held the book in my hand and now I cannot resist myself from it. Ever since I dived into this magical realm, I forgot that my life doesn’t have a purpose or goals. My goal is now to finish all the 7 books. Yesterday, I read the book till 2 and I didn’t even turn off the lights or didn’t even keep the book on the table. I slept with a book!

There are hundreds of characters, tens of houses and their sigils, and much more little interesting things in this book. I am afraid I might forget some. Like that Butcher’s boy Mycah. But that is exactly how our lives are.  Do you remember all the teachers and students from your childhood? People whom you might have met and thought you had a connection but now, you don’t know about their existence!.

Life still goes on with the ones whom you do remember. Even if they exist only in your memories just like characters of a book or a movie.

This is the closest to any sexual experience I ever had. I will keep sleeping with the same book. I suggest you to read it. You will get lucky.

Not Telling a Lie is Innocence!

Not Telling a Lie is Innocence

Not knowing this is Ignorance.

Your honesty is their target

They’ll often forget

That your only choice is the truth

And you don’t play any games

or the drama and the plays

nor the deceitful gestures and the faked affections.

You say it quick,

or you don’t say at all

You always tell the truth

That’s an easy call.

Truth doesn’t creep, twist or squirm

It is just a matter of plumb whim

Innocence is not lost to sex,

but to all the lies you tell

to make up for what you did!

You can lie and cheat a person

but beware of your conscience.

But I’ve been cheated by lies, Yes,

Crushed, buried to a point

where I can no longer figure out

Why Truth and Lie are disparate! 

It did take time to crawl back,

get the dust off and give a shot

at writing this prose

with no rhymes but for a reason!