Transformers on the Road!

Well this is the story of Transformers. Not the one they showed in the movie where the battle is between good and evil Cybertronians about saving the world.

Here they battle each other and save everyone but themselves in the process wondering whether life is better on Mars. I am talking about the Autobots and Decepticons like vehicles that fly on our roads and supposedly make the earth a better place to live in. Well not so much.

But you get the point.

Indian roads are full of these mean creatures hell (pun intended) bent on the game of upmanship (lest we forget…womenship too) who suddenly transforms into alien creatures when they see the red lights or absence of any human form in the garb of traffic policemen.

Let’s look at them one by one. Let’s keep the emotions at Bay. (Got the subtle reference?)

First is the cutest of them all. Bumblebee.

These are the small scooters that zip through the crowd and transforms into F1 machines when in traffic. Yes, we call them Activas or Activators. Don’t go by the cute looks. They are the zappiest of them all and seemingly unconquerable. When in danger (read more traffic) they sneak through the smallest of gaps in between and leave you smokeless.. I mean.. Speechless. Not to be dared for a quick race. Be ready to eat a humble pie. (Or gallons of petrol). And they have the loudest horn. So don’t get horn-y with them. YOU WILL LOSE. Not so WIT-WICKY.

Next in line (I mean zigzag as we don’t have lanes and you know it) is Ironhide. With all it’s ammunition and weapons we simply call it the Tata Ace. Behold the 3 ton awesomeness.

Now they are in league of their own. Always move in a group of 2-4 blazing guns and unmindful of any white flag waving peacekeeping force or in other words pedestrians and cycle-trons. They have tonnes of loaded ammunition at their disposal (the human bombs disguised as cramped 20 passengers in the backseat) and ready to move in any direction and shoot. With all the firepower of an Ace who wouldn’t. No laws apply to them. Argue with them and you will shoot yourself in the foot. Or by the machine gun. Whichever is less painful.

These need to be worshipped from far away and your anger pin safely tucked into your belt. Pants are precious you see.

Now it’s the turn of the Bonecrusher. The name kind of gives it away. No?

These are the two wheelers who transforms into Ice Skaters or dirt road Ninjas depending on the traffic and pedestrian conditions. More the traffic and pedestrians on the road, more the speed. For them road is just a metaphor for all things equal. Footpaths. Cycle tracks. Speed breakers. You name them and they are on them. Like the name suggests if you want to keep your 206 bones and don’t want to see Munnabhai MBBS do not give jaadu ki jhappi to them. YOU WILL BE CRUSHED TO YOUR LAST BONE OR BONE MARROW whichever is first. They are also called as reach-your-home-faster as only 2 tyres work and spare tyre is driving the vehicle. (Without the protection. What a tool!)

Two wheels on the road. And a empty tubeless tyre driving on it.

Now comes the mightiest of the lot. Megatron. Leader of the Decepticons or commonly known as the Auto Rickshaws.

No Rules. No timings. Only your Money.

You don’t mess with Megatron. You don’t. Even if you have a better transformer or Tata Nano. They are the king of evil world. Earthian rules and living matters don’t matter. The Black and Yellow Transformer will have its way. By hook or by crook (Apt name for half of the species) The only way to ‘fox’ (Me-gan(g) of wassepur) them is to wave a hand or leg and hope that it is not crushed. It is more difficult to hire a Megatron than get to the Moon. No really, ask the NASA or Mohan Bhargava. Good luck finding Fanny.

YOU HAVE THE ALLSPARK MY DEAR PUBLIC. Or in English it is called Meter. Never mind that it is hidden in the deep mountain pass covered with snow and the only way to get to it is your Gandhian spectacle. But does non-violence work on Megatrons? Try your luck and if you are alive tell me too.

See you in heaven or Germany. (Remember Aap Ka Suroor and crie!)

Megatrons can be defeated only by Megatrons themselves. Keep safe distance. (Google Maps are helpful)

Last but not the least the leader of them all The Optimus Prime.

Well like all things good, they don’t exist. Not until Kalyug. Tell me when you find them! I will be one of those Cybertronian lurking on the road trying to find my way into the traffic. Find which one and you will win a gift hamper. (Please RT)

Road to hell or Stairway to heaven. YOU CHOOSE!

Drive safe fellow Cybertronians!!

Thoughts Mashup- II

It’s easy to get lost on the symphony. But then again who knows the notes.

Like a silent hand guiding you towards the path. Unknown. Unseen.

If I would have known how much sadness is beneath your smiling eyes, I would have never closed mine.

Leap of faith. Guiding hand. Mystical smile afterwards. Knight in shining armour.

If only dreams and reality can converge into a cesspool of thoughts we would be happy at the end of the darkened spell of rain.

These clothes that hide your personality within the fake cloth. These shades that darken your eyes for the world around you. Naked ambition.

Poets need a muse to spit that rhyme.
Writers need a story to write that paragraph.
We need each other.
To make a life.

Fleeting Encounter

Some people.

Just walk into your life.

One fleeting moment when you least expect it.


Swaying like the windless chimes.

Making all the right noises.

That drowns your perception of things.

Fleeting encounters.

Momentary. Motionless. Myopic.

Tiny beautiful things.

Your assumptions about life,

Blown into your naive belonging.


Chance acquaintance.

Mindless wandering.

Search for the unknown.


The useless days will add up to something. Someday!

Lady in the Pink Lipstick

She was there,

Standing still. Sitting. Walking up and down.


Hair falling on the face,

A tinge of uneasy smile that illuminated the desire to love.


She spoke. First.

I was standing a little far. Nervous as a wreck too.


Bonded by shared circumstances,

Separated by disparate history and life experiences.


Smooth talking and affable,

She had the quality of making you their own.


In the space of unknown,

You feel like she is the one you have known (For years)


Feeling like Deja Vu,

Reading through the similar experiences and thoughts.


Who knew?

That Life runs in a parallel track,

Where you share the same train as her.


May be Different Stations. Ultimately same destination.

Wish I had taken her number. Before Sunrise.


Chutney Life!

The ingredients are right there,

Distinct and full of aroma


The tools are right there,

Of all shapes and sizes


The time is right there,

To drill it down it’s spine


The intent is right there,

To make one out of few


The only thing that is not there,

Is the spice of life


Scattered in it’s approach,

Invisible to the discerning.


It makes it’s appearance,

When nobody is paying attention!


Want to taste the chutney?

Choice is yours!

Manufactured Experiences

Today, while swimming I saw a bunch of aunties clicking photos of the child in front of pool, basketball court, garden and what not!

Rather than enjoying the company or playing with the toddler, they were indulging in experiences that they can share with the larger audience.

Which bring me to this topic: Manufactured Experiences.

Due to cellphones and social networks, We all are engaged in ‘Manufactured Experiences’

All the facebook photos and self photos,

Frequent click of photos in an restaurant, pub, movie theatre,

On an outing,

Someone’s birthday party

Rather than make insanely great experience for ourselves at that moment, we are looking for confirmation from our inner social circle to validate that, yes we are indeed having a good time!

Moments are lost to make everlasting memories.

Self belief is more to do with social approval now.

In a sea of friend connection, we are looking for some who will agree with us.

On facebook, twitter, whatsapp, vine, instagram and what not!

Happiness is a subjective thing, isn’t it?

Thoughts Mashup – I

One night. With Thoughts making a noise.

An absence filled with nothingness. Like the absence of light is darkness to the mind.

Black and white kaleidoscope. When colors forget to add themselves to the canvas. Willful deception or untouched pureness?

That cart which you are pulling. You better know you can leave it in the middle to feel lighter. But, you can’t.

So many colors. Yet focused arrogance blinds the unknown messenger. Ignorance is chosen and not conferred.

Negotiated boundaries. You make your own lanes irrespective of the chaos around. Is it chaos? Pattern?

Cross legged. Cross Hand salute. Hoisted happiness. Inside. There is too much darkness!

View from the windowsill. Parted edges can show the glimpse. But not the frame of reference.

She lay motionless with deadpan arrogance. Fully clothed. Besmirched by her past. Trip mistakenly and those who rise after won’t be shaken.

Contrast is palpable. Flight of fancy or grounded realities. Tugged by string attached. One blow and wind has its sway over your existence.

Stripped to the last strand of cloth. Smeared with ash. Carefree to the world. Faith keeps the fire burning inside.

Silver line of worries that are called wrinkles. Stories that are untold and left to die within.

Into that old taxi. Without number plate. Where memories lay scattered. Like a faulty meter. Stopped in it’s track.

Renunciation. Knowingly free yourself from the suffocation. Into the boundaries of reason.