The Chase

Ulhas Nagar, Fractals, and the Misery of Not Knowing a Damn Thing

I am talking about the Chase.

Not the noble, cinematic kind - shehnai playing, destination clear as a Google Maps pin. No. I mean the other chase. The one where you’re half-convinced you’re chasing your own shadow. Some will frown, saying any kind of peace is only found in solitude or that chasing is pointless as we all return to dust(five-elements). Maybe they’re right. No point arguing - it’s a circular conversation anyway. Okay, let’s get back - the chase, where you wake up at 3 AM, walk down the stairs to the living room, smoke in hand, sometimes staring at the walls and wondering why the bedsheets are printed with roses and shit instead of, say, fractals!

Countable Things vs. the Ghost Chase

Early in my entrepreneurial days, I chased countable things more - I still do but to a lesser extent. A rented flat in Noida. A chair and table for that flat. A well fed person to sit in that chair. These are/were solid, tangible chases. You check boxes. You win. You lose. Simple math.

But then there’s the Ghost Chase. The one where you’re not even sure what you’re hunting. It’s like being told to find a black cat in a dark room—except the cat might not exist, and the room might not have walls.

The Andes Survivors Had It Easy?

I recently watched that Andes crash film on Netflix. You know the drill: cannibalism, snow, human grit. Their chase was brutal but pure. Survive today. Survive tomorrow. No existential fluff. They even made it to humanity after walking/trekking on ruthless snowy mountains and rescued themselves.

My chase? Less dramatic. More confusing. Like trying to explain to my wife why I love her. I could read to her, Neruda or Faiz, but really, it’s simpler: with her, I don’t need to chase. I just am. She’s my Ulhas Nagar—a place I didn’t know I was headed to until I arrived.

Ulhas Nagar: A Metaphor for My Life

Let’s break it down.

Scenario 1: You’re told to go to Ulhas Nagar. You don’t know where it is. You don’t know why. You just go.

Scenario 2: You’re already on the road, running, and someone yells, “Hey! You were supposed to go to Ulhas Nagar!” You shrug. “Cool. Where’s that?”

I live in Scenario 2. Always have.

Male Friendships: No Poetry, Just Vibes

I have an Older Brother - around 11 years my senior - sometimes we talk pensively when a few drinks down, we ask each other why do we care or love so much? Why is it that you give me time when there are things which could be relatively a better use of that time? I am unable to answer - all I can say is- we like each other’s baseline personality. That is the thing about male friendships.

Male friendships don’t need reasons. They’re like gravity - you don’t question why apples fall. You just eat the damn apple.

Bedsheets and the Absurdity of Flowers

Not a night passes without me pacing the living room, squinting at bedsheets. Why flowers? Who decided that humanity’s peak textile innovation is mindless floral patterns? Why not fractals? Infinite patterns for infinite insomnia?

This isn’t about bedsheets. It’s about the chase for answers we’re not meant to have.

Why Write This? (Good Question)

Clarity? Ha. If I wanted clarity, I’d meditate or go to Banaras/Kumbh. This is a thought dump. A scream into the void. Just putting myself out there. There are many who are just like me unable to articulate.

Writing won’t solve the chase. But it turns the ghosts into something I can point at and say, “See? That’s what’s haunting me.”

Persistence

I’m a man with limited intelligence. My IQ? Let’s call it “functionally adequate.” But I don’t give up the chase. Doesn’t matter if it is the abyss or it is all going to make sense or not. The Andes survivors didn’t quit. Neither do I. Not because I’m brave, but because stopping feels worse than chasing.

A Map for Fellow Ghost-Chasers

If you’re here, you’re probably lost too. Welcome. Here’s your survival kit:

1. Chase AND Exist. Want security and mystery? Good. Life’s a buffet, not a prix-fixe menu al fresco.

2. Fight the Floral Patterns on the bedsheets. Demand fractal bedsheets. Rebel against pointless beauty. Create order in chaos, even if it’s thread count.

3. Talk to Walls. They’re better listeners than most humans.

You’re not lost. You’re a pioneer of the unseen. A tourist in Ulhas Nagar.

P.S. If you find fractal bedsheets, slide into my DMs.

P.P.S. A very good friend’s girlfriend is from Ulhas Nagar. Once during a conversation, we made the city into a metaphor and it stuck.