Lucia Lucia Lucia!!!

Ok, I ll get straight to the point on this one. Me and my friends Shashanka and Sanketh (in the pic) 

have become online distributors for the kannada movie "Lucia", which is a very brave attempt towards making good cinema.

Since it's theatrical release, it has been going places with the likes of Anurag kashyap saying very good things about it(In pics again)



So, do watch and enjoy this awesome movie from our link below.. We have attempted to be a part of this unique idea and have signed up as online distributors for the movie.

P.S: As of now, it is available only to worldwide audiences and not in India.

Foeticide

A man is killed for marrying a girl of higher social stature by her brothers. His wife is pregnant.

Here I am, a part of a woman,
Resting inside her, feeling protected,
She is my mother, she is the one,
Trying her best to keep me unaffected.

Then there is a man who is always around,
He always talks to me, I kick around in joy,
With him, my mother feels we're safe and sound,
Tells me that he's my father, and I, his baby boy.

Sometimes when he's not around, she cries,
Bearing the pain I cause, which she still denies,
Fearing the world, she tells me that I am the one,
A hope of acceptance,all the bad blood shall be gone,

One day I wake up from my sleep to excruciating pain,
My mother seems to be fighting, trying to break away,
She never thought of stopping through all that strain,
Her nightmares had come true, her dreams went astray.

I waited for my father, so that she would calm down,
All this pain would end and I'd go back to sleep,
I heard her telling that while he was out in the town,
Someone had put a bullet in his head skull deep.

She collapsed to the ground suffocating me,
Crying aloud over her destroyed dream,
"Your father ain't gonna come", she tells me,
"Soon it'll be me, but I've to live for you."

I won't buy that ma, I've heard u blame them,
I don't want you to raise me with shame,
I ain't a bastard, I don't want to live like one,
I don't want to come out and be an orphan,

I don't want to be your purpose to live,
In a world of hate, violence and strife,
This is the best thing to you I can give,
I close my eyes, I let go of my life.

Taxi Driver

With a vision restricted to the size of the windshield,
He spoke about the fruits his efforts would yield,
Hands on the steering wheel, his story he would share,
Oblivious to other vehicles' head lights' glare.

Stopping the vehicle to him meant procrastination,
He was eager to get back into the middle of the road,
With a little regret over not getting an education,
Dreamy eyes reflecting a cheap neon light signboard,

He still dreamt of making it big in life,
He laid his plans out in front of me,
Wanting to  put an end to all his strife,
A Bigger, better man he wanted to be.

The devil took over him when he fought,
Over another driver's momentary indiscretion,
A day's hard work was all that he had bought,
It was the day's share of anger and frustration.

Yet he was all smiles when he stopped for me,
Promising that the next day he'd be on time,
And he drove on with all dreams in his mind,
And I walked alone, with mine...

The warrior

He did not dream of a million dollars,
Neither did he dream of instant fame,
Trying to stand with the white collars,
He continued to play the beautiful game.

Dribbling the football like he always did,
For years,it was a gift that he never hid,
Years that he spent under the burning sun,
Bare footed, the football was his only companion.

All those years counted down to that single moment,
The blisters on his foot, his injury prone legs,
Memories of a long struggle called life he buried,
Alongside his demons behind a netted rectangular box.

And so began his waltz, filled with adrenaline,
He was dribbling the ball, again under the burning sun,
Watched by his father, he was a lot more keen,
Trying like he always did, to be his favourite son.

Every single second mattered he was told,
And he ran across the field not wasting any,
But soon something inside him pulled him down,
Done and dusted, his eyes were forced shut.

He died a little later in his father's arms,
The beautiful game was his life and it was over,
His escapade to a beautiful life had done its last harm,
The burning passion in him finally faded away...

Dedicated to D.Venkatesh, Striker, Bangalore Mars, who died on field during a BDFA Division A match. Respect! RIP.

The artist

Everybody in the gathering called himself an art lover,
But the truth behind everyone's love he could uncover,
The stark reality, his art would just cover a plain wall,
And at the end of the day, the buyer would stand tall.

Some people said they loved his usage of colors,
Some branded his brushstrokes extremely bold,
Some of them casually sipped wine, posing as donors,
Looking at the paintings that would soon be sold.

Tired of the lies, he wanted to find an excuse,
To being the best he could be, being a recluse,
But someone in the crowd raised a toast,
The artist was his friend he would boast.

Forced to make a speech, he stood in the center,
Social interaction was never his cup of tea,
He was done soon, it sounded like a little banter,
And slowly he made his attempt to flee.

And soon everyone fought,screaming out a number,
He wished every moment that he be in a slumber,
Before the numbers and people could leave him confused,
He looked around the chaos to find his next muse...

The Performer

There she stood, draped in silk,

Looked like she had bathed in milk,

She soon became the cynosure,

As silence descended over the enclosure.

She was brought to the stage by her teacher,

Whose finger she held tightly in her tiny hands,

Reaching for the mic which was standing taller than her,

She stretched her tiny frame and held on to the stand.

She closed her eyes, and it all came back,

How the prize offered had caught her eye,

How her house was fully lit the previous night,

How she was told not to give up the fight.

She started singing like she knew no fear,

Smiling to people watching from far and near,

Scaling notes was her sweet feeble voice,

Chirping like a bird, she made more noise.

She was telling a story and the crowd listened,

Her parents feeling proud, feeling unburdened,

And when it was finaly over, she stood there,

Oblivious to the applause, she looked for a hand... To take her away

A Devil's Workshop

I see that photo from our first ever and best ever trip. A lot of feelings are flowing in my mind and I wanna throw it out today. I feel nostalgia, I feel pain, I feel anguish. My eyes are filled with tears but I will not cry. It is not manly to cry.

NOSTALGIA:

Yeah that was us back then, still growing up(We still are). Those were the days when the only thing we were worried about was the blisters on our feet after playing bare foot football under the sun. Those were the days when we waited for the college bell to ring so that we could run to Tapas's place and play. Those were the days when all we worried about is the cricket and football matches we played.

We made a list of ten most memorable moments remember! I managed to save seven of them on my mobile. We never thought of completing it :D

The Journey by train to Shimoga: It was a very simple plan for a trip but executed perfectly. We stayed the whole night from 1145 PM to 6 AM inside the train. We kept chatting, speaking like there would be no tomorrow. Nothing could stop us from talking that night. We made non stop jokes about a Brett Lee and a 'Solid' Neil McKenzie. I still remember the clouds against the moon representing the food chain gone wrong. Mouse chases cat, cat chases dog. Awesome!!

Watched this video ten times last week and kept laughing. Ujju and Gujju had to share a bicycle at Sirsi. Ujju was the rider and Gujju was the pillion rider who sad in the front. It looked like Ganesh and Pooja Gandhi together. And just as Sanki was capturing these golden moments, something happened. Ujju lost balance and they fell down in classic slow motion. Sanki could not keep himself steady and started laughing putting the camera out of focus.

Aslam's place. We reached there after spending some amazing time at Sanki's place. We were not prepared for the reception we eventually got. Everybody in Aslam's street came out of their houses. Gujju, amazed by the attention innocently asks us 'Maga, should we wave back at them?'

Aslam's place. Everybody was keen to see the girl in the opposite house. We tried to catch a glimpse of the girl, but thanks to sanki's ill timed whistle ringtone we had to hide. The girl went inside and in a moment the light went off.

This was something I never witnessed but the description of the event by Tapas himself was enough to make it memorable. Gujju tried to exhibit his vocal skills by singing 'Tu dhoop hai'. Still remember how we laughed at that.

Gujju is an amazing artist. He is a master of languages. He successfully translated a famous Kannada song which resulted in the line 'In me chest sweet Kolahala is comes'.

Gujju and Aslam also started the trend of 'Memento'. The lesser said about it the better. But it was awesome fun.

How can I forget the day when My club Barcelona Beat Man U and we witnessed this at Ujju's place. I was the only Barcelona fan that day among 9 people and yes as soon as the lights went off, I became the football.

At that time, being together meant we could do anything. That was the kind of confidence you guys gave me. You taught me what friendship is and I became the proudest guy on the earth.

PAIN

Now, I am left staring at the photograph and wondering "What the fuck went wrong?"(The language will get worse from her, so if you are a girl I recommend u to go back to facebook. Thank you for reading) Why has things changed so much. We stopped playing football and started spending more time at our college parking lot. We started watching really dumb movies in theaters. Our cameras never had any more group photos of ours. The seven of us never posed again for a photo together. We were never a group, we were seven good friends who had great understanding and now we had become nothings. We started worrying about what situations it would create if we stood together for a photograph. Why the fuck did that happen?

We went together to the most stupid of fests with none of us participating but why on the earth couldn't u come to support me when I did and Shaw performed in some of them?? (Yeah I am complaining about it, but I m doing it to you guys, you're my best friends)

Why the fuck have we stopped spending time together? What the fuck went wrong there? We could still have played football near Tapas' place. Why didn't we?

I'm not demanding answers here, these are just a few questions I kept asking myself.

ANGUISH:

Sanki's sister's marriage was the most awaited event for us since we became close friends. We dreamt of doing all the work there. It eventually happened, my eyes filled with tears when it happened. We also managed to serve food and become a part of the celebration in our style. Other than that and the time me, kat and ujju got lost in the woods, it turned out to be the worst trip ever to his place.

EPILOGUE:

I seriously do not know why I wrote this, but I know why I wrote this here. Nobody can come here and press a 'like' button or comment on it and have someone else 'like' the comment. This is MY space and I wanted to make sure I can put my thoughts without any inhibitions.

I sincerely hope that things get better but also realize that all good things come to an end. But moving on is a very hard thing. Maybe now, I can move on. I've done this personally too, but here it is. Aslam, Kat, Ujju, Sanki, Shaw and Gujju, I'm really sorry if something from my side triggered this and I apologize sincerely. Will always remember you when I see any word that relates to friendship. Love you guys. Good luck!