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Love
the obsession of scientific world with encounter whether live or un live thrilled or un thrilled animated or un animated simulated or un simulated has no relation at all what so ever it may be with actual scenario of criminal or delinquent behavior .
I should say you can not create doctors out of bombay film industry or hollywood film or show business. Its their sweet will or wish to play with the psyche of the gullible minds and churn out bullshit dollars or rupees or what so ever it may in black money some property bazar or gold or properties and the like.
psychiatry is a subject which needs a delicate handling not bloody movie masala and the like.
Love
I am painting my love to you against the backdrop of 1976 at PU CHD. One nice day someone told me there is an option to go to the univ for further wastage of Dad's money. I do not remember how Jaspal singh Kalra was invented. Its something a real big missing link of evolution. If I make a Pythagoras theorem of relativity I feel my tutor or say professor at National college sirsa Mr. chug seems to be the person who probably could become the newton to find the laws of motion. First tell me what the hell you are doing with this bloody shushandr rekha - this is not your standard darling , better keep distance from bloody kejriwals of Bombay Film industry who hardly know bloody abc of corruption but become the messiah of eradicating forces of corruption and the like . I know your tender heart may not like my remarks but darling ask this shushandr what is this bloody keep or say a distance do the hell she wants to say the peoples do not know the nomenclatures of private parts hell it yaar. Yaar are you that scared . Just ensure to yourself No bastard can touch you , you better throw away your bloody security as they look too too clumsy bloody toilets on roses. I remember I was opting for zoology but Jaspal told me its a dirty subject better come to botany because of its clean environment. Later on I learnt he was looking for someone who can accompany him to sirsa on vacation days as his father was a railway employee so he used to get subsidized tokens for a say 50 paise or so for the whole visit and for any number of times it were available. One day he told me his sister believes that if a sardar is there then he is male others are may be someone in between or so. She could only recognize a person in turban so she was not sure who the hell I could be. I was more interested in crashing some exam for MBBS so I hardly bothered of any nomenclatures of the period under discussion. I remember I was selected in AIIMS entrance final select list but the other part is a sad story I will tell you when you will meet me in person. One day I went to National college another sardar friend of mine met me and told he got selected in Dhanbad medical college but before I could say any thing as token of your bullshit world Professor Dalal of Physics subject at the college intervened and politely professed " he has gone to university", my brain got fused at his remarks so I kept quiet.
Probably my quiet habit has never taken further exuberance after that.
Love
I am painting my love to you on the backdrop of punjab university Chandigarh the cauldron of making and de making. Generally it is said a university is a mirror of society but love its a bloody escapists statement of those who hardly read the books or say who have become bloody schoolia nothing else. I remember there was a character called Masud in my hostel days. this bastard was nothing but some bloody khomeini he prostitute. you will wonder why I am using so strong and attitudinal words. Its rather very complex thing to understand at the first instance. He used to enjoy the food , quality of education and the sophisticated environment of the university. I feel he did his masters in history. He always grudged the development of India and its natural resources whilst forgot the hell of his own soils. Similarly this equation gets further percolated to many many many metamorphic stages or phases or say simply existential s. Arvind kumar sharma was one of the old acquaintances of mine. I remember I told you of some daftry at my office who used to drink liquor laced with opium and was bed ridden for months together with continuous vomit ting and having even toilets in the bed itself and his wife used to clean whole hell and tolerate his abuses whilst with a sorry state of the house too. Now kiran says she has a psychiatric sick mom in law , I have told her the solution too but she feels still she is handicapped. I was telling you of some sharma , one day he bestowed upon me an English dictionary from sector 17 for Rs 40/- which I paid to him but since I was busy at my some say job of bullshit botany so I could not go to sector 17. I remember I used to scold him why the hell he was wasting his father money in not being faithful to him and lying bloody all the times. Any how One nice day I suddenly saw him walking around sena bhawan , I left my charted bus to meet him. He was too nervous which only later on I could get that he felt bad at seeing me having a job and he failed to get one. Now anu lives at sirsa and you have made her to suffer for so long and I dont feel you have a bullshit idea of saying a courteous sorry to her. I never knew kiran has one anu with her. One nice day I was going to my village but bus was late so just strolling at the bus stand. I met an another old time acquaintance Mr. Pyara Lal he was too elaborate bloody sirsa style dekh lo ji phir aap sirsa ko bhuul hi gaio ho, he told me he has discovered bloody Einstein on earth who happened to be my friend at my university the greatest possible beauty queen of the universe Chandigarh. he politely said he is Mr. Arvind Kumar Sharma. I took the address and said I will meet him next time. Cell phone was not invented by bloody America by that time. One day again I got struck at sirsa and came to know that Mr. Sharma is on the trace of mine. I accompanied him to his room somewhere Anu happens to pulsate hard to come of her accidental aspects. I found him very affectionate and got to know he was working as MR ( medical
rep ) in a sirsa company having its different branches over that geo graphic area.
Later on I came to know neither Payara Lal could be traced nor Mr Sharma and kiran devoted poet shiv kumar batalvi has put his best efforts to say : meinu kha gayein mereiyan hi chavan.
Love
I feel you are responsible for anu accident at sirsa. You will be aghast what the hell I have written in this bullshit love letter. I know I have very considered point not to write sciences but some how I am compelled again to opt for writing sciences only. I remember I have been continuously asking you to accompany me to anu place and it would be a great time as she is very sophisticated smart and intelligent girl but your non sense nerves could never understand. I told you she makes such a wonderful food that you will forget the bloody five star culture too in bloody one go. Had you been there as persisted upon too many times she would not have got a bifurcated psyche that resulted in her less energy threshold at the D day.
Love
if I am not failing at my general knowledge which I have no mood to increase as I need no bloody IAS examination to crash at, Meena kumari life time tragedy queen ship and Hema Malini 25 yrs of rule over the silver screen has something to tell you and anu too. Anu dad is looking after a bloody certificate of matriculation so probably you are some how trying the same thing.
any how psychiatry is not simple and I have no intention to elaborate further.
Love
there is no body who can even think of taking punjabi panga with my pencil.
I remember Dad was an ingenious person a person of his own dedicated nerves may be an entirety whom I can not sketch in uni some.
I remember there was no boundary lines of my village mirzapur. Dad house was flanked by a huge really huge spacious lawn that supported sand s and sands . It was such a huge place that a five-eight star hotel can be constructed on it. I know in spite of my infinite some powers I could not do that. Dad used to be a busy person round the clock owing to his unrelenting instinct which probably no body could get an inkling from where he flourished such an elixir of power of physiological set up. I know now a days some sikhs have illegally occupied every thing and bloody nanak eats food with me only and these bastards say he resides at harmandir sahib. I know you also visited there for your bullshit pennies and the like. Dad agriculture land was so big that it needed practically 2 hrs for it s simple supervision. Dad was having around 10 acres which consisted of sand dunes only. the height was say about
1.5 meters . Dad planned his way of doing the thing s but his own brother s were hell bound to thwart his innovative nerves. Dad wished may a sand storm come and let it take whole of this sand in the form of shifting sands and throw it away around the end less expanse of that haryana parts. But chinar kei fool to' darling bantei bhi hei aur khushbu bhi deitei hei.
I remember Dad used his own ways and means to level this field over a period of say when I was going to my 8th standard in 1969 whilst Dad was capable of clearing his lands of jungles in 1952 itself and that too with his own hands.
Love
I am painting a love to you on the backdrop of 1963. My school at village mirzapur consisted of one big kacha room. This room was further partitioned into a bigger part for classes and smaller one for teacher and sometimes for miscellaneous purpose say some special occasion when external guide or inspector used to come and sit with the teacher for some discussion part of the school activities. It was flanked by a big lawn that further extended into small portions of land divided into plot s where we were tasked upon to grow certain plants of our choice as part of say extra curricular activities. Probably teacher used to be of this opinion that jobs are something not feasible in those days also. He wanted to inculcate an instinct in us to become self reliant under the village environments so to speak like. I remember parents never interfered in the school way of functioning. I and some other co students planted onions in a plot. Another plot we chalked for growing flowers. There were total four big plots for such purpose. A hand pump that was installed almost in the mid area was used for small time irrigating the plants. There was no fashion of bringing the food to the school. I do not know if we ever heard the concept of ti fen so to say. One day it was around 3 O'clock afternoon , we were doing our this activity of planting and looking after the plants. I remember two of us, me and some other chap of my age only were feeling very hungry. Dad never gave us any money nor mom had the habit of keeping purse etc. Dad was having a barter system with the local shop keepers for purchasing items meant for house and farm related activities. I dont think I ever thought the pros and cons of the system. Option of taking something from the local /village shop keeper was ruled out at our psyche level. We started looking for those onions which were a little thick or say developed so that some mouthful food may be there. I remember I was eating the onions as if chocolates or say pizza or say tandoori chicken or say momos . It was tasty but too pungent at the same time but love hunger was a fact to reckon with.
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