Some serious amounts of literally coming back to life!

Firstly, some visual work.

Ethics

Forever young

Then, some update.

I went book buying. Bought Secret Island, The Adventure River, The mystery of the burning cottage and Joe's Boys.

The current class 12 batch of St.James', of which I was supposed to be a part, had their farewell, and they didn't allow me to think that I'm not in there batch by insisting I be an essential part of the party. So I went, at 7.30. It was a stag night, at a friend's large and brilliant terrace in Southern Avenue, where a stage was fixed, with sound systems and laser lighting, and an all you can eat buffet and all you can drink, beer-vodka-whiskey bar were set up along with numerous comfortable and pass-out-on-able mattresses and pillows lining the dance-cum-eat-floor. Also present at the party, largely thanks to Raghav, Harsh, Ishaan and I, was an entire 'T' of hash, and some random 200 rupees worth of weed. I had a blast of a night, which started with some beer and vodka shots warm-up as the 'crack team' selected a comfortable mattress and some random 6 or 7 of us set up a comfortable base to roll out a formidable array of joints, supplied throughout the work with beer courtesy loyal juniors. Harsh also happened to have brought his legendary ice-bong, which we used extensively, and by 10.30 everyone, the entire crowd of some 90 people were drunk or stoned and enjoying the DJs loud trance music while the disco lights belted out fluorescent shafts of light amid the smoke filled darkness. Then, our school band, all stoned, gathered together their instruments, got on stage, set it up, and played a medley, non stop, of their favorite songs - Cocaine, Take Me Out, Black Night, Roadhouse Blues, Coming back to life, Baba ORiley and Hey Jude. All of them excelled, though all in some kind of trance, Arjun's guitar stopped everyone dead during coming back to life, Suryanil's synthesizer pulsed through us during Baba O' Riley and Raghav's drums and Protim's base echoed inside our heads throughout. I, as far as I remember, consumed some obscene two digit number of kingfishers and vodka shots, and a random 13 joints, both kinds. My capacity amazed me as I reached home safely at 3.30 and talked for half an hour normally with dad, before plugging into my newly acquired music, courtesy Archie-da, and then listened till 6, then went to school, and then came back home tonight, with 3 random leftover joints being consumed as an afterthought during the course of the day, and am now plugged back into my music.

Thirdly, something I wrote.

“A little faggot with the earring and the makeup,

The little faggot is a millionaire.”

~ Mark Knopfler (Money for nothing)

A lot of people believe I’m reckless. A lot of the things I do are considered, by most, to be irrational, unnecessary and recklessly extravagant. Some respect it, albeit due to various misconceptions, and some cannot stand it, from various misunderstandings. I just wish everyone would open there eyes and join me in this better world, where reason is suffused in every action and thought, and one can exist beyond fetters and unwanted constructs. Mine is a road that leads safely to a good place, carefully avoiding the one that goes down the dark and dangerous alley to the caves of despair and dependence, and maintains its sense of distilled beauty and simplicity throughout like the guiding and directing streetlights.

I think it’s a way of living actually, or maybe a way of thinking. If one learns to see the world in a more soothed light, peacefully and without anger, it becomes much easier to embrace certain practices that carry a bag full of dangers with them, without being burnt by any of that.

I see around me too many people rushing into things, without a thought as to what or why they are doing it. Most of them end up burnt. I’m too young to think about or try to judge what went on inside the minds of the greats like Jimi or Morrison, and hence I have no idea as to whether they were burnt, or just found a different meaning to the road, but I’m sure too many of the deaths from overdose and the cases of young and potentially bright people being found on footpaths or under bars is just a result of getting into something with the wrong mind. I don’t believe physical age has anything to do with it, as much as a proper view of one’s life, though those two are most often entwined.

Someday, maybe, there shall be more people who’d see, and then join me, in peace, and we can explore the mysterious lands inside our heads, created maybe while dreaming as a child or fantasizing as a young man. Maybe I’ll be an old man by then, maybe it’ll never happen, but I shall wait and hope on, for that someday to come.