Good morning. I wake up saying to myself , as usual. One thing was not usual was my alarm didn’t go off with a blaring sound that can even awaken a politician. It was Saturday , Yippe Weekend…
SO I get up , If you think I will take you through the daily chores , or the visit to the idea generating loo , and my quality time on the pot ? Naaa sorry you would be disappointed.
The first real quality thing homo sapiens do , in the morning , is look at themselves. Mirror is the greatest discovery. Man what power to portray yourself to you. Attitude. It is always a different experience every morning. Something is different or something is amiss. For some it is a heartbreaking experience , where the thing you first notice is the grey hear as a flag raised by a Babu , or wrinkles making graffiti in your lost land called face. For some it is a life changing experience , New found love , Self confidence , or a new mirror. … But I felt nothing , it was weird , but nothing. I took the newspaper and tried to park myself in a distinct shape of my bean bag. Oops , the bean bag was stubborn , and I felt unwanted. It was an ego hurt , I chose the chair to be my companion , na wasn’t comfy too. Hmm Something is different today at the end . Then I decided to look into myself . I did and I realized the truth . Oh my god My hair could have made the ever barking golden retriever run for his money. Eeeeks I was erked . I realized time for a haircut and when I looked back at the Bean bag , man the attitude filled sack smiled at me with its lost shape.

It takes guts and money for a haircut. Guts as being a Calvin fan ,” Never disagree with someone who has a knife” and money , but obvious to not to disagree with the armed monster you have to pay him. I arm myself with guts, and money and on my journey towards self fulfillment.
The journey was exciting, Sunny day , and the air conditioned saloon . I reached there and a bunch of Vision 2020 youngsters are blocking the way. I thought if a film star is in for cutting the ribbon, but na they are on the same mission as I am , but probably started before than me. It was heartening to see the young battalion armed with newspapers. For all the critics who claim youngsters don’t read , visit a saloon , you will know what and how much we read. The saloon had multi lingual newspapers and Magazines that can put Higgin Bothams to shame. Suddenly a boy crawls amidst the crowd and says , SIR hALF an hour .
So now I know , whats the mission start time. So let me prepare for the war. I stand and stare the youngsters , some chatting with their beloved , excitedly telling her about the new hair cut they going t have , probably the last time he will speak to her , as a new haircut is risky proposition…Some discussing work , actually its fun to discuss work on weekends , you think about it on an altogether perspective. Wonder what happens on Monday morning,…..Some Studs showing off their new wheels , wonder to whom ? But it all happens in there in the small cul de sac . I was no different , wearing a pajama, and a tee I was a disgrace , as I thought it s a saloon , but could also see Tommy hilfigers , Lee hitting the saloon. Now I realize its not Hair cut anymore .Its Trend. Vision 2020 revisited.
It would have been 20 mins odd , and I was half way through another piece of article on Recession , and I get a call . Mera Number aa gaya. Ok the chair was grumpy , but still better than the sack back home. And it felt like a throne , as I waited for 20 mins and Vision 2020 , bundle of them staring at the image of me in the mirror. POWER OF THE SEAT. The same feeling our Beloved leaders would have got when they broke into Rashtrapathi Bhavan.
Man I was treated to fresh water spray on my desert like scorched hair..I looked at the guy , He had an admirable hair style done , cleanly shaven , and good hygiene. Made me happy . Work ethics ? you call it whatever .
Hmm two things were constantly on my mind. In fact three things . First Calvin and his philosophy on men with knife …
Second – Recession
Third – My future with my girl . Man she loved my hair . Probably she loved me only because of it. But The guy was not bothered about the first or the third.

But yes Recession , he was keen on . As he was about to treat me for one Recession of sorts. He asked me how would I like my hair style. I said keep it medium , keep the sidelocks on , make it look simpler but make sure not much hair is lost.
He smiled . CALVIN CAME ….I couldn’t figure what the smile is about. Is it because he cared damn about what I wanted , Man he had the knife . Or he understood his customer . Work centric executive ? Really don’t know . But there are times your whole life is dependent on someone else. And it was one of those moments.

He started . I knew He liked conversation. I heard him speak to the previous kid as well. Kid was scared at the end , as he was quizzed on mathematics .Poor kid , hair cut and mathematics?? He needs a Vacation for himself …
He started with me as well . Working ? He asked …Hmmm I was too scared to move my head and made sure my mouth was the only part moving . CALVIN is responsible for this Paralysis. I said yes . He asked IT ? I said no ….he said then you wont be making money …
Man this was the catch point …IT makes money and rest of the world are thumbsuckers . Gyaan from a saloon guy. One moment he was scared if I could even afford him. But then he went on. IT guys make money , they go abroad , they buy there , they come here they buy here. And then they keep buying but are still poor and default loans .
Man I was amused by the little knowledge he was talking . But two seconds the fourth thing came to my mind , the article on recession, IT GUYS default Bank loans., Hahah He has read it , More knowledgeable than me . I asked him why , does he have idea. And there was the beginning of a new era.

“You cannot have two scissors and one bald head “

Man this statement is all set to win Noble prize for Economics. Paul Frieberg of the world make a note of this . This is not a macro economic theory. But a simple theory says , when you are bald , buy a cap and not a scissor for the hair to grow and cut.
Hahahaha Fantastic , I was amused by the sheer brilliance of the liner . It said it all . And he guessed me right . I had no money to buy scissors and he was driving me bald. But too late to realize . The damage was done.

I came unscathed from the war , but the battle was lost . My hair stood all over the place , the same way my bean bag takes shape I mean does not take shape . OH MY GOD ..I Yelled . He was showing me a mirror for me look at the lost of field in the backside , Man but the front was so horrible to go on reverse gear.
I yelled , I shouted what on earth was this ? Recession effect ? And he calmly said , sorry sir , But I made sure you don’t have to spend on a scissor for 2 months.

Erked I was ..Was that a guess that I was bankrupt with the recession ? Or was he an investment banker who lost his job , in the turmoil who is advising me to save a penny. Or is It because , I was not from IT… God knows if he knows . But Calvin was still there . Didn’t have guts to quarrel . Didn’t have the right hair style to stand and quarrel. I asked how much he said Rs 40. I gave him and started my walk back thinking of the post break off with my girl ,the booze and bar I would visit .But it realy gave me a good lesson on much talked about recession

The recession is In your head and on your head …Simple theory …You always end up paying for something you lose ( I lost my hair , probably my girl and paid Rs 40)..
I end up paying for ice cream to make way for a fight with my girl ( its assumed I lost the fight )
I end up paying on myself and not on my mind….

Time is spent on buying scissors when the need is actually a visit to a Docs like Salman. Need gone , Recession is all a game, You play it and lose it. You don’t play it you lose.

With that in mind , and saving 80rs for next two months , I walk back . My phone rings ……Honey where have u been??

….I answer Hair cut …The line is cut ….

Agony of the Violin

Agony of a violin:
Strrrrrr , a cranky sound welcomes me to the long unihabited land of music and melody. the sound of sound chord which has lost all its grease , oiling, and enthusiasm. It fails to bulge for me to adjust the pitch, One more attempt with my hard to recognize muscles pulling the strings out.of my body...naaaah wont wrk.
I keep the beautiful artwork body, the tanned brown with black sensous border, that is as admirable as to watch as Leonardo Da vinci would have imagined Mona Lisa.
I feel the weight only when the Violin is down in its small home. The weight that is suddenly filling my whole body from my toe to the redundant brain is hard to explain and I realize it is a combat that I have to fight. The battle , that the violin ,with its splendourous look and demigod status throws on me . I paralyze. I lose the battle even before I ready myself for it.
Not long ago were we friends, friends where I was the soul and it was the soul within. Yeh I am speaking about a passion that lived as a fire within me . THE VIOLIN. Life was dominanated with so much of inifinity and emotions and the only way to make way for them to be expressed was to be with my friend. It was more than a friend as I said it was a "SOul Within". The unexplained mysteries of my sadness and unexpressed happiness was never failed to be understood by the soul.Althought it was only 4 strings strong , with four keys , and a bridge that was like a connectivity for me and my soul within, It was as strong as 4 gods idling time in each of the strings. hmmm Yeh Inspiration is the adjective I choose here to mention my experience and my long relationship of 17 years with my Violin..
But the reality , Nothing exists any more. It seems like a wooden piece , forget a godliness.
WHere did it go wrong ? Where did I Screw up? WHen Did I let you down ?
8 mts ago , luck showered on me and made me an offer that anyone can hardly resist. It is the role of being part of the script for a play called L I F E where I play a role of a Winning character with a sound enthusiasm and energy , Right now am playing the character of winner like an oxymoron , with a sound enthusiasm, and a deaf energy.
Job , yeh job. WHo wouldn't want it ? Everyone does. Everyone wants to be an actor . I was one tooo. Days passed I paid no attention to my friend who was lonely in a house that could host a greek empire. Weeks passed the loneliness went away and then came in jealousy . Months passed when jealousy became the end.
Right now the piece of wood has no emotions. It is a wood , not an art just because its own soul was nowhere to be seen . It was tired and weak.Weak of having hopes that soul would return. Weak in wishing the soul the best. It needed a friend but all it got is an unjust, unfaithful treatment. All it got as friends was the pack of dust that covered its splendorous envious gold body, The soul failed.
Strrrrrrrrrrrrr.......But still the sound was like that of an emotion of a genie which was freed after decades.The aggressive happiness, the sound of the silence , autumn in a grave. The chords still matched for a parochial second. THe chords of two souls waiting to be freed. Two souls who were lost , one in their own loneliness , one in the pursuit of a fake oscar winning role in a play called life. Two souls whose love was like divine eternity and the two souls whose distance right now might be a 10 cms far and 100000 light years away.
Corporate gave me a good lesson. I won accolades, I won friends. I won rivals , I won envy , I won prode. At what cost ? I lost my soul , I lost my hunger , I lost my wisdom, I lost a friend. I lost myself. My soul was crying.....
It had nothing to lose. It was a piece of wood, even a wood actually feeding termites and contributing to a social cause. But it was not a piece of wood.
It was me., I was the god damn wood.
I am a wood with no soul with no life. Music was extinct .Melody went dumb. All there was in the wood was a sound of breath. But the weight was coming down. It was as if the souls have crossed the distance of 100000light years to be together again. But the soul still is in grief. It will take time to connect chords and adjust pitch. The Bow is the mediator. The bow with all soggy hairs like an old man was the mediator.
With sense of conviction and belief that after all I have to face the music that my own soul has to offer me. THe wood picks up the art.
The slave picks the master,
The burdenend picks the grieved.

I know we can make it again. Give me a chance. The wood spoke ....strrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr , there was the sound again .......