DAZED AND CONFUSED

A Day in The Life, entire two minutes of it.

2009-12-14T11:00:00.000-08:00

The sun has risen. The location is nothing serene, nothing exotic (did the picture above fool you?). It is just my room in kGp. The hour is something a self-respecting person doesn't mention. The harsh sun rays are beaming in hard though the window, whose grill has been removed. You can romanticize it as open doors of perception, but there isn't anything remotely Huxley about it. Well the vitamin-D rich sun rays, unfiltered through the absent curtains, fall on my face and I am awake.
There is nothing I accomplished yesterday, no skeletons clutter my closet. And there is nothing to look forward to, just the regular score. I realize the downside of what Somani means by "Only Regulars" but it ain't no revelation. Life is a blank sheet, time holds no meaning. No matter what I do, the bulldozers on the other side will keep on raising dust, which in turn will make me sneeze and weep tears.
There is nothing to read, at least nothing that hasn't been read before in some other form. My thoughts race for something new, some uncharted territory but are washed upon the same old familiar shores. And this stagnation scares me, it is an extremely boring morning with absolutely no promise, no hidden aces up the sleeve, nothing (visualize Russel Peters saying this).
But as Robert Plant said, "I have some good news."
I open the doors and exit. Somani is out there, smoking a cigarette with Vibhav, saying something with his usual animated expressions. Damn nicotine addicts, not a sight you want to see in the morning, gives a jolt to your faith in humanity. Abhay is there by the toilet with a frown on his face and a brush in his mouth. Kishan too is there by the toilets, but that is after all his favorite haunt, his turf. Kama of course is asleep after a night of intense YouTube viewing and multiple substance abuse. Someone is playing what I believe to be a Atif Aslam song. A curse escapes my lips, but the earth doesn't split open to engulf all the philistines into its fiery depths. I guess this just isn't my day. And what is bloody earth doing if not punishing sinners, its not bearing any fruits, its lying fallow and dusty.
Three men, apparently employed to grow some grass when I had higher plans, lie sleeping with the sun on their faces. They are smiling. A swarm of dragonflies are busy flying in circles. They know the absurdity of existence and have made up their minds to while away their existence trying to match the absurdity. A squirrel mimics them by climbing up and down a tree. An army of red ants is marching straight towards the LakshmanRekha.
I don't know what happens exactly, but a wave of tranquility washes over me. I shed the unnecessary weight off my shoulders, clear my nostrils and take a deep breath.
You can't be a hero, an Achilles, everyday. One positive way of looking is that there are not enough Hectors to slay. All my mornings won't be in Kasol, at least not for another year and a half. There will come mornings when there is no paper to roll with. One needs to embrace life in all its banality and address that one is alive. And that infinite possibilities are open, at least to those with grit. Carpe Diem and all. No eternal reward will forgive us for wasting the dawn. And that if I look hard enough, there just might be a paper under my bed. Its a beautiful glorious day and it will be a shame not to have some THC flowing through my veins.

1X03- coming home to kGp

2009-07-02T23:06:00.000-07:00

All your life, up in smoke

All your visions, up in smoke

All your illusions, up in smoke

All your ambitions, up in smoke

All your actions, up in smoke

All your dreams, up in smoke

All your thoughts, up in smoke

All your time, up in smoke

All your people, up in smoke

All your life, up in smoke

But do heed!

All your love, IN the smoke

This is the first post after some time. But instead of talking about the Himalayas, I shall talk of the one day I spent in KGP. This won't be an annal of facts and statistics of how many times I smoked up. This is about returning home.

KGP, the place which the residents love to hate. People complain, people suffer, people die. That's what living has been reduced to. Okay, enough dystopian ramblings. I enjoy it over here. It's perfect for my existence. That's why when the train pulled into the station, I felt a feeling one only feels on returning home after a long time. That indecipherable feeling, as if a volcano of emotions has erupted. Associated memories race through your mind, each one too ephemeral to observe. And I leave my weariness and exit. KGP is lush green after recent rains. There are also sniffer dogs on the platform. I stretch out my arms and KGP embraces me. Then I head out to score.

DFE (short for Daaru, Fags and Everything else) is empty. HHFH is a welcome relief after two months of abstinence. But I am a man on a mission. I have a higher purpose and that is to relive some old days with an old friend. I wait.

Well, as they said-

I get by with a little help from my friends.

I get high with a little help from my friends.

I am gonna try with a little help from my friends.

1X02- Obama smokes weed.

2009-04-28T05:06:00.000-07:00

Stoners of the world unite

Too long have our low brothers lived lives of apologetic conformism

Shedding tears in silence, crippled by their sense of reality

Too long have they been denied the grace of God

Too long they have not paid their taxes to the Greek kingdom of Malana

Too long have they rated Slumdog Millionaire above Up In Smoke

I Have a Dream, and it is Green

The onus is upon us to tilt the tables

To extend a helping hand to our lowly brothers lost in darkness

and bring them up to our level

To open a chapter of G Cell in every school and college

To bring a dawn where the mind is without fear and the joint is held high

Viva la Revolucion! Yes We Can!

PS: This was the result of freestyle writing after just thinking about smoking up.

PPS: According to Bruce Dickinson, Queen Elizabeth was a fellow doper.

PPPS: Thanks to the guy who's as high as a helicopter for letting me shamelessly plagiarize his blog.

PPPPS: I intend to maintain this blog as my notepad, to write whatever comes to my mind and also hone my writing skills in the process. It shall live up to it's name because of the fact that I am after all, Sir Tokes-a-lot. This spur in blogging has most probably been brought on by the fact that I plan to have no exposure to blogosphere over the next month or two which I plan to spend tripping in the Himalayas trying to tap some hot yeti ass.

1X01- The Pilot aka The Christening

2009-04-28T03:59:00.000-07:00

Roach- Check

Rizla- Check

Tobacco- Check

Marijuana- Check

Roll- Check

Lick- Check

Pack- Check

Burn- Check

Toke- Check

This blog is not going to pretend that it will teach you how to smoke. This will not contain tutorials on how to roll. This blog will not assume that it's the supreme authority on cannabis. This blog won't try to justify marijuana use or preach how marijuana brings you closer to slaying psychic vampires. This blog won't stress the fact again and again that The Beatles did pot. Well, I guess that leaves very little for me to work with.

This blog is about my experiences with marijuana. This blog is about how a group of students from a sleepy town in NaxalLand indulge in this "sin". This blog is about leaving the examination hall one and a half hour early to smoke a joint. This blog is about taking long boring autorickshaw rides in order to score. This blog is about how the life of some revolve around this plant. This blog is about our daily trials, tribulations and adventures. This blog is about waking up each morning without knowing for sure how one got there. This blog is about rising above all bitterness and severing all ties with the past, and as a result becoming Dazed and Confused.