"Those, who've never lost, cannot enjoy victory as much."

Who's the drummer?

A song was being played in the background. Two typical beats per second. The process was continuous. They all enjoyed and swayed to the song until an aberration was heard. It was an extra beat. "Where did it come from?" They all wondered in unison.
"How did that happen?" Most of them asked. "Was the sound unprecedented?" asked the others expressing panic.

She was unmoved and serene. She hardly bothered. "I have a different question," she announced,
"I wonder who the drummer was."

Lunacy

Like a stranded star,
glowing alone,
his shadow walked down the road,
sun-rays outgrown.
and, the progressive ambiguities,
overriding it's colour and shape,
fear invading the road,
continually swapping itself with the reality.
and, he sang the songs that prevailed,
in the air, through which, light escapes,
travels straight, into a land that changed,
life to death and death to life,
eternal wishes that are never sufficed.
and, the shape went ahead,
travelling to the north
where the music was played,
the howls of life and the melody of the dead.
then it went to a place that shone,
empty as the outer space,
and with a stranger,
duplicable as a clone.
and it glowed like a stranded star,
being made permeable to the eternal dark.

Have a Cigar

The brilliant guitar leads by David Gilmour is the best feature of this legendry Pink Floyd song. Gilmour's hands seemingly dance on his guitar. Not to forget, Roger Waters' vocals - intense, sublime.

Well, it's after quite a while that I'm listening to this song, and my urge to type something in spite of a paucity of news ideas, has brought me here. Have a Cigar is one of my all time favourites. I know what a cigar can do, hence I, perhaps, relate to the song better. Some smokes are heavenly. Some of them are located so aptly on the time graph that they become an integral part of your memories. For instance, at 1 o'clock in the night, you stand at Juhu beach with your best friend. It's predominantly a moon-lit night, though some of the yellow street lights are reflected by the sand. The sea is a light shade of black, bound by you at one end and infinity at the other. And now, you light up a cigarette. Majestic is the word to describe the feeling.

Today, I ask myself a question, "Do you need to have a cigar to enjoy the above scene?"
I really don't know the answer. Logically, it's a 'No'. I wonder if the aura of the above situation would be mitigated without it. But in spite of knowing it, I would surely be very tempted to light up another one if I find myself in the same situation again.

Now, I have almost quit smoking. Soon will I quit it completely. Though, I don't look at cigarettes and cigars derogatorily. My prolific smoking days and smoked up nights are a memory; a memory that will stay with me for long, pretty long.

Paroxysm

The sun was sinking into the sea, progressively getting closer to the horizon. The water was adulterated, though the vague reflections of the lights originating at various buildings on Marine Drive were collectively making it resplendent. The horizon was wide and spread out, pretty clear too. Between the attractive skyscrapers and the ravishing sea lay an embankment where I was relaxing in one of my most ecstatic moods.

That day, I wasn't alone. Washed in the whitest of the whites, she looked stunning, irresistible. I was enthralled to see the splendor. There was something special about her beauty. It was not spontaneous. It was not momentary. It had gradually grown big on me. Every moment that we had spent together had brought us closer. Those emotions had unknowingly gathered in my mind. I wasn't sure of what I was feeling, I was simply letting time do its job. And that day, a paroxysm of her took place. She exploded in my mind. The beauty of the moment was such that I anyway knew what was to come. Taken away by the moment, I looked into her eyes, and within a moment, my feelings were reciprocated. Neither of us spoke anything, we just felt. It was the most beautiful tacit conversation I have had with anyone.

The day is gone now, frozen as a memory. Today, we are together. Much closer to each other than what we were then. With her, it's a different world. With her, it's just the two of us. She has the power to take me out of myself. She can do magic with my emotions. It's been a spectacular journey right through. I hope, I continue to fathom the truest of the smiles with her along. It has, indeed, been quite a walk, 'The Walk of Life'.

Blue Grass

you wake up,
and smell the world,
thinking of your new girl.

you go out,
and walk around,
analyse life, lying alone on the ground.

you think,
and intoxicate as you frown,
befriending the alcohol that's just gulped down.

in the evening,
filled with emptiness, as the sun sets,
futile attempts of cleaning up the mess.

visit the night,
smoking and drinking,
in a corner, nostalgia shrinking.

and,
you smoke the day's last cigarette,
inhaling the scarcity of smiles, to show
exhaling the prosperity of your perennial woe.


- Not a poem; an attempted song!
(The rhyme might seem forced)

The Black and White Minds

Peeping through each others’ present,
Walking over each others’ past;
They wandered across the roads that went far;
meeting sacred distances at that lonely hour.

The moon appeared in a queer shape.
The stars sparkled with a striking irregularity.
The black mind lost itself in the serenity of the dark;
the white one struggling to negate its own peculiar spark.

Black approached the white with an eccentric charm,
The white mind was excited at the very first glance.
It retorted fantastically with a bright, luminous spot,
Amalgamating itself with the black little dot.

Yesterday

It's after a long time that I'm writing something for my personal blog, or rather writing something that suits my personal blog. It feels good to be back to square one, good to be back home. This is where I learned to write, this is the place that has seen the stupidest of my articles, the most juvenile of them all. It's always a pleasure to look back at yourself and either analyze your past or get nostalgic about it or to do both. There is no greater delight than walking anti-clockwise, however fictitious the activity might actually sound.

Anyway, I'm not too sure about what exactly instigated this article. It might be my ever-wavering mind, or perhaps one of my friends' surprise tears, or perhaps someone else's eccentric smiles.

Yesterday was just another day, another Saturday that was destined to be wasted lavishly. But then, if I were to write about all the Saturdays that I have spent waifishly, I would be the most prolific writer of my generation. Why am I writing about yesterday? Some Saturdays, or days, are special. Some of them come with moments that can effortlessly freeze in your mind. Yesterday was probably one of those. I was just as I always am. Then who the hell beautified the moments? Come on, Mihir! You can't do that alone! (At least not with this new 'chop' cut, 'grass' cut, 'cancer patient' cut or whichever other hair cut one may call it as.) Actually, a mirror is all I need to have an elongated laugh now. Oh shit! Wait, what am I writing!

Ya, coming back to the point, I spoke smiles today, I screamed fun. Well, before I talk about the other half of the pair that wandered haphazardly on semi-lit roads yesterday, let me clarify that she is not the hottest girl around whom I am crazy for like a lunatic. Neither is this a romantic (or rather a wannabe romantic) article that I'm writing to pour out romanticism, as a love struck, streetsus Romeo, as Mark Knopfler had described in one of his songs. To be concise, she is pristine.

This girl ( who?? ohhhhooooo, aaaaaa.... well, shut up!!) has this unlimited hunger for stupidity and food. She can eat like a freaking horse at times. She is hardly not hungry. She can fight with me over a sizzler with a fork and a knife. She can drink a glass of fresh lime soda with 15 straws at a time. She can attempt to throw water on me in a public restaurant. She can laugh at people around us on their faces, she can laugh her heart out loud on public places leading her companions to a severe embarrassment. She lives for the moment. Nights charm her. Oh, does she personify the term, 'wannabe Mihir Chitre'? I once thought her to be 'Mihir inverse', but now she is exuding the exactly opposite charactersitics. But of course, there will always be a difference between Mihir and a wannabe Mihir! "I can either be modest or realistic." There will always be things that she can not do or will take time to learn(??). Such as, perhaps, pulling my hair out when I pull her (That's one of the few advantages of the chop cut). As far as I know, she has four admirers; three guys and a girl! All of them, with their own typical (funny) characteristics, right 'BUDDY'?

At times, she punches me on my face. At times, to counter that, I owe her hundred bucks. And she believes, she is gonna get them back! Ha..!!! Ya, did I mention she is optimistic? She tells me that she is. She believes she has the best hair around; though according to me she is bald in the 'front view', (Well, that must be wrong!!).

I once thought that she revitalizes my optimism. Does she? I don't really know. I don't know what makes her special. I don't even know if anything does. But yes, even with all my cynicism, I should accept the fact that she is one of those rare people who can resemble to me (Perhaps, she is Divya Shetty's closest competitor). "The more insanely one behaves, the closer she gets to Mihir".

She can smile, she can smile with me. She can laugh, she can laugh with me. But, so what? This is a regularity. Who has not enjoyed my company? (Han, being realistic, not modest) The special part is that I can smile and I can smile with her. I can laugh, and I can laugh with her. I don't look for any kind of perfection, actually, I don't look for anything whatsoever. Why should I? Who am I? But some folks come in mesmerizing packages, just as she does, and I like her for that. Though, some things are better left unsaid, it's awesome to have her around when the sun sets, the moon rises, the stars sparkle, and the walk starts...The Walk of Life!