cover

the cover of the book is: two people floating in the space. without spacesuits.

most of the people will think that it is to signify something. most don't know that thats the end. thats how they go with it.

snippets

There is going to be three main guys. One guy loves dogs so much. And then he is hiding in someone’s place. Playing with his dog. and he starts to bark so he has to put them down.

You know that snipers can shoot between two breaths?
what is between two breaths?
there is a pause, and I love you even there!
you are weirdly good at phrasing someone else's lines, shubh.
thats what I used to do when you weren;t around. 

I love you, so I am expected to feel that this is eternal and special, different from others.
but what if everybody thinks like that. and I am sure they do.
I am already this tiny in this world. my love for you is what makes me able to scream at the universe with confidence. but if this isn't different too, how do I make a stand?
why do you want to make a stand?
because I want my paining on the wall of a club. what else?

It was never just about drugs. It was about what it does to you. just like money, you don't like those green printed papers do you? you like what that paper does to you. money gives you freedom to do and be what makes you happy, to go to the places which make you happy, to fuck the kind of girls that would make you happy. but there is something better in drugs that isn't in money. you need to work hard to attain that kind of money I'm talking about. drugs are the shortcut to that happiness without working your ass so hard. they cost 100 bucks a pop, max.

there is this guy in the story, rich like hell, son of a politician or something. has a villa near lonavala. he runs a party marathon, calls his people members of the caravan, and he pretends to be like a leader to them. this fits because he is the son of a politician and naturally he has the genes and the urge to lead. but from inside, he is more artistic, he paints and he has travelled the world. its like the dreamville of tomorrowland on a much smaller scale. he has acres of property. he has a lot of drugs he has a lot of followers. and he has some really strange rules. like when a new person is accepted in his commune, he is bathed in drugs, he is slapped hard and his gravestone is marked in the graveyard far back in the property. (where somebody might just sit and stare at his own gravestone)

C'mon please say something else. these couldn't be your last words. please say something else.

one guy always has khalil gibhran's complete works in his hands, not the same guy who owns the villa, someone else. otherwise it'd be too obvious. and he keeps telling snippets from the book. about love: "when love beckons to you, follow him, though his ways are hard and steep, and when his wings enfold you yiend to him, though the swords hidden among his pinions may wound you, and when he speaks to you, believe in him, though his voices may shatter your dreams like the north winds lay waste the garden
                         

storyline (to be continued)

Ah! How did we land here arpi. what dreams I saw, for you and I. I wished to be a pioneer, of newness and wakefulness. And here we are, choking on our own blood. what went wrong. what did we do wrong.

shubham is the protagonist, a small city guy who dreamt big and had big balls to achieve them. his biggest dream was to earn a lot of money. and with that he wanted to get this girl whom he loved a shit lot. he hated money, but its the necessary evil.and as he moves to the city of pune, he is introduced to a lot of things. being from a conservative family, everything was a culture shock to him.
        and then there were night life, partying, dreams coming true, a lot of money being spent. and he joins the world of drugs to suppress a lot of issues.

preface

I turn 23 today and when I look back to the kind of life I have lived and the kind of friends I have made, a big part of my heart is ashamed. I am bleeding profusely from my mouth as I write these words. The windows are turning darker and darker and just like every other day, mechanically, the sun will find its demise. Osho always said that you need to die every moment to be born again, a different one. Today, I might just.

I don't know why I am writing today. And where do I want to take this. I remember the day when I turned nineteen. I had just taken the JEE and was waiting for a couple of more exams that were my ticket out of the home. To my paid holiday. I cut the cake like a twelve-year-old would. a cheap cake. and i went to a temple with my father on a bike. a cheap, dilapidated bike. and when I crossed her house, I would look in the completely other direction, hoping with all my heart and wishes that if she is standing in the balcony, she doesn't recognise me, sitting behind his dad on a wretched bike like a loser. Its hard to believe, but that used to be my birthday wish.

Today, I just wish one thing. I don't want to die today.

Also, I need to stop this bleeding.