Existential Absurd

Delhi is the most beautiful city that I have lived in so far. It has everything one needs to love a person. Yes, Dilli is a person for me. A living thriving genderless person which has been here since ages and will remain so. History, metropolis culture, great public transportation and the delicious food. Even the people here are not that bad as usually stated. I proudly tell everyone that I am a Dilliwala. I could write pages on Delhi itself, but I would like to tell what really makes it so special to me. I am a Delhi-ite because I have a home here. Although in NCR in Uttar Pradesh, Shivam Khand at Vasundhara sector 19 has been my Shangri-la. A family lives there, which has embraced me like their son. I have been their numerous times and not once felt like an outsider. I feel so loved with them. I love hearing their crazy stories and funny one liners. It feels like family. I have never had a large Indian family with cousins and relatives constantly buzzing around. And I have lear...

I have an published paper lying on my desktop since the last two months. The title is "What's a name worth? The impact of a likeable stock ticker symbol on firm value". I haven't read more than one sentence of the paper, but t he title looked too brilliant not to be downloaded. I saw the movie "The Founder" today, based on the life of Ray Kroc, the guy who build the McDonald empire. And he said a similar thing.  The name, McDonald, represented everything. It could be anything. It sounded just like America. I find it true. The name comes across as very honest and homely. It is large enough to take 3 seconds of your time, yet simple enough that any 3 year old could say it.  I do feel my own name is kind of shitty. It is just two syllable. Every good sounding name is at least 3 syllable. I have often told my mother that had my name been Ranveer or Abhimanyu, I would have gone to IIT. Men with such names have an added advantage over guys like me, b...

I have a peculiar taste. I think I am a connoisseur in movies, fashion and football. Although aficionado would be a better term. Some do call it conceit. But I don't particularly hate many things. Don't get me wrong; I dislike almost every things. But I only hate a few things. All the things that I hate one aspect in common. And that is, apart from hating them, that they all have been done by me and then repeated by others. For instance, if I discover some beautiful place, which gives you a memorable experience and then someone does the exact thing after hearing about it from me. I mean, that was my place. My discovery. You don't get to go to that place and tell me how wonderful it was. It is just for me. Not for you. And then, many more would do the same thing. And I stop loving that thing. I loved to read a lot of newspaper, and then many people started loving it too. And now I had to stop reading newspaper, because it was not my thing anymore. It becomes *Less Th...

One day I was talking with Mr. Goldfarb, or whatever is his name. You see, Mr. Goldfarb is a my long term friend from the days of Yahoo Messenger. He is 10 years older than me and is from some part of Europe. We only know the ‘a’ and the ’s’ about each other, leaving the ‘l’. Heck, I don’t even know his real name. And he knows me by Alibaba007. It was really great alias, kind of badass with so much mystery around it. I have always been proud of myself for owning the name. I can think of thousands who must have tried to have this name, only for them to see a ‘Sorry! Username already taken message’ Mr. Goldfarb is an average looking guy even by Indian standards. What I really mean is that if he comes to India, no ovaries would explode. He is about 6 feet tall with golden hair and a short nose. We have talked a lot over the years on YM, everything and anything. He says he has had many girl friends, which were out of his league. He used to tell me stories about his high school and co...

The time between 4 and 5 is the best I look at the fan, lying on my bed turn east and then west I can hear myself breathe The room is dark, day about to break the clock ticks slowly this while everything seems still, no one is online my ears are filled with silence across the room, there is an orange glow from the heater that is never turned off it shines against the wall, like a rising sun orange becomes red when I breathe out I am asleep and awake I am filled with visions of a beach  The smell of sand fills my nose and the splashes of water is all I hear I am hungry and I am full,  any day this time feels like yesterday or tomorrow but not today its been a while since I ran. I am on a scooter, riding through a busy street the smell of wine and fish I am by someone, her naked breasts in my hand saying things i don’t even understand It is five and there is dawn and that hour is gone, the most beautiful one where...