My Email Id

To send any message to me, or for private comments, please use the mail id : sudipsam67@yahoo.co.in or Whatsapp me at 919477202742

The bloody diamond

The bloody diamond
This is life

Welcome to the imperfect world

Welcome to the super-real world where survival comes first, much before the high alter preachings of excellence (for others only). So if you are the one who does not have to survive, or does not care - you have a choice not to remain here.

For others, please have a seat and take cover - here anything can happen anytime and you may just become a faceless co-lateral damage. Everything here is related to life and death, pains and agonies, treacheries and conspiracies, cons and deceit, treason and betrayals, despair and darkness - we just do not live in any perfect world.

BUT that is why the blog is here at all - let there be light. It aspires to show the way, to train myself and my friends in the defense against the dark arts. It is also related to hope and courage, renunciation and redemption, indomitable will and lust for life - the immortal battle with the dark side. Red flag fluttering in the gentle wind, all hands on deck, war cries in the air, daggers drawn, no quarters given nor asked, no hostages taken - we must fight till the last man standing

Rest assured, you are in good hands. These hands, with all the talents or the lack of them, with all the liveliness and the inner brooding, with the over-sized ego and the extra-ordinary humility, with all the goodness and the devilish designs - have been war veterans - they have fought for decades in the battle of survival.

Happy surviving




Love in blood

Love in blood

The inescapable war within

It is the curse of the human that we are constantly at wars. War with the Government, society, family, spouse, children, Boss, peer, friends, neighbours. Some of these are overt, some crude, some plain enmity but some are subtle, some barely palpable, some low key and guerilla types, some are cold as razors, some are dry like the funeral pyres.

Most of these cannot be own with force or when you try for winning - sometimes you have to lose to win them. Some are more like trials than wars, they never show the faces, never let you see their pimples, just shadows, the kafkaesque faceless executioners take over.

For all these, we need inner strength, we need strategies. Sometimes the objective is survival, sometimes it's plain escape from the random blades, sometimes the heady delight of beheading the enemy. Sometimes it is sheer joy to be alive, sometimes happiness comes over from a walkover or just a walkaway, without even a careless looking back. Often it is a mixed feeling - the agony, the ecstasy, the brutal orgasm or a complete disenchanted detachment - a shelter in the NOW. They sometimes need courage, need cunning finesse, sometimes ruthless lack of values of a son-of-the-bitch, sometimes daring flamboyant recklessness, maybe even stoic nonchalance. But the best of the best generals in the wars of life, always win without unnecessary bloodshed or even none of it at all.

But the most painful and fearful of all these wars are the ones with oneself. It could be a conflict between mind and heart or even the soul that holds our values dear. And this is one war that always hurts, always wounds, always bleeds one dry, always keeps one awake through the fearful night with the shadows of the beautiful lacey curtains blowing in the gentle wind and making shadows of our most intimate fears within. It is like a nation under seize, and alas, there is no escape. When you will kill yourself softly, no survival strategy ever works.



Thursday, October 15, 2015

Survive from being a fucking sober



While letting her go in front of her home, you didn’t suddenly pull your girlfriend to give her a lingering kiss, while she fought to get away ? Didn’t u get intoxicated in the party and danced like crazy with your friend’s girlfriend, to spend the next two days to get badly thrashed by your own, whom you really realy care for ? Didn’t you bunk the classes to go for a 8-hour beer session,  to be carried home by the innocent bystanders, to get a marching order the next day by your Dad ?  What the hell you are living for, you prude, for a few marks and a few more nickels ? Is that a living ?



If you don’t break the rules, you are a rotten vegetable, ask me. I had the rare distinction of being on the verge of rustication 4 times within a span of 9 years in school, first being at the age of Class 1 and beat that. I snatched the scale from the hand of the Nun who wrongly, or so I thought, punished me and broke it into half, in the strict missionary school I was in. This is nothing to boast about, nor the fact that each time some guardian angel had to come down to save me at the last moment, but I am proud and content that I have proven myself to be a living organism and not a rotten vegetable called “sober” that some parents think as the ideal state for their children.

Sober essentially means he does not smoke, nor drink, nor take grass or cocaine or LSD or heroine or anything of that sort, does not even look at the pretty girls (which I have done all my life, by the way, if I miss someone my wife cooperates to turn me to that direction !!), let alone cavorting with them. What they do, study and study and study and get beautiful marks and even more beautiful marks.  The joke goes that after such a sober guy died, well not by cirrhosis of lever that I will probably meet my waterloo in but by severe diarrhea after taking some outside food for a change, the life insurance company refused to pay the assured sum on the premise that “this guy had never lived, so how could he die ?”

I am not any big guy, just average in everything I guess, including the number of pegs and fucks, to measure the give and takes. The only basic difference is in the pride, the guts, the fucks I give to whoever thinks whatever about me. This is not honesty either, I am not claiming to be a saint waiting to be cannonised, if people had a chance they would rather blow me by the cannonballs. But this is a proof that I live my only life, as I want. In all the schools and colleges, I was known by the Principals to the Directors to the rectors to the Durwans and the security people, often even ignoring me as half-mad anyway because they couldn’t ever digest the facts that a guy may have complete disregard for the established rules and regulations that they hold so dear.

Just because most people live like pigs or lambs, you don’y have to throw away your only life, do you ? Just let go, yourself and all bloody rules and expectations and the fucking rules that the bastard society will impose on you !! (BTW, I am not responsible for anything written above, I have had too many pegs to understand what was written !! ) .


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