Right now, i'm holding my cup of tea and wondering how on Earth a 'fast' even meets a criteria for separate statehood. I clearly remember a news bulletin in 2004 when TRS said they'd support Congress at the centre. KCR had said back then that statehood was what he wanted. Then things were silent for a while, probably cause he realised that it wasn't going to happen. Then YSR dies, so it's deja-vu.
Such opportunists.
It goes without saying that there is no definition for 'ethics' in politics. Politicians move around in their armoured cars, with Z protection, or whatever its called. They live a high life, always on the roll, and often on the payrolls of others. I guess it's obvious we've to live with the fact that their lives carry a larger price. That's one thing we've to come to terms with. Sure, politicians eventually die, and their friends and foe pay due 'respect'.
To be frank, Most of them don't have, what was so brilliantly put in 'the girl next door', 'moral fiber'. They often are oblivious to the fact that they're on National t.v, to the point that some of them doze off, as if to point to us their 'busy schedule'. Wtf is up with these guys.
A few days back, When Mr Chidambaram was making clear his discontent about the whole liberhan report, and how Ayodhya was handled, other legislators were shouting out 'shame shame' in a shameless manner. I don't understand why them legislators tap their desks to show appreciation for 'invalid points'. It's as though clapping consumes more energy, or is virtually impossible a task.
Why are these humans paid TA-DA for not doing shit?. We students deserve to be paid for attending college then, for in the future, we'd surely be giving back to the society. There is a world of difference in 'conduct' between them and us. Someone fasts, and voila, You have yourself a new state.
In that case, if 7th sem vtu students wish for their exam on jan 2nd to be preponed, 'cause of the whole new year gala thing, it would qualify as wishful thinking, wouldn't it?
P:S- I gots to study now. adios.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Friday, December 4, 2009
Lust?
Excerpt 1:
I've always believed that true love can be found. I had no misconceptions about love, lust, or the likes. And the first time 'it' happened, turned out to be the last time. The girl was 'complicated' in many ways. But the thing that mattered most to me was that i was happy. I loved spending time with her, listening to music, watching t.v shows together, cooking sometimes, and dreaming about cuddling up in bed.
It all started in the month of October. A mutual friend told me that she had a little crush on me, (which i didn't quite believe at first) and she was planning on meeting and telling me. Actually it was the other way around. I told a mutual friend that I had a crush on her.So a date was fixed, where in i was stood up.
I managed to convince her to go out with me, and soon we had a 'connection' of sorts,and despite the awkwardness that followed, I managed to open up quite a bit. Being Insecure was my thing, till about then. I matured a bit more as a person, i figure. She never failed to calm me, when i was angry about things. I realised that 'this' was something special, simply because i was happier as a person.
And since i couldn't give 'this' a meaningful term, I called it love. And so did she. As the days rolled by, and seasons came and went, we were in what people call a 'relationship'. Sleepless nights were a plenty. Rolling on both sides in bed, wondering what she'd be doing now, perpetually calling her even when i didn't have to. It was another issue she didn't pick the calls. She was busy with house work, i figured.This was the order of the day.
Often, we'd hold hands, swing them by our sides, and walk into the distance. We'd look for eternity at the stars, all the while sure that this was no 'infatuation'. Sometimes, I'd bend in to kiss her, only to be disappointed, as she'd back away. Both of us would be nervous. Me, because i did not quite know how to make a move, while she, because she just wasn't 'ready'. This was to be a special event for her.Nevertheless, I understood, or at least tried to. (All guys don't think with their dicks:p ) I felt this was the only thing missing in our relationship. And as you all know, all good things come crashing down, like Murphy's adage. We broke up, for reasons best left un-menitoned. I was left scarred for months. I felt 'Incomplete'. I cried myself to sleep for nights together.
Excerpt 2:
I was having my customary whiskey on the rocks one fine evening,.My friend happened to drag me to a Disco. I was reluctant. I didn't like the music they play, or those bright ass lights they use. But somehow, I agreed to give him company. We entered, ordered a few beers, and voila! I spotted a few hot chicks in skimpy clothes. I've my own perceptions of the word slutty, what's right or wrong, etc etc, but as is always the case, alcohol changes perceptions:P. I got 'introduced' to one good looking girl with the customary 'Hi, how are you?', and a peck on the cheek.
The dj got the night rolling. Soon i realised that i was 'dancing' with her. I could smell the booze all over her. I decided not to take advantage of her in any which way. But she kept coming up beside me, while i tried keeping my distance. Soon, my hands were over her in areas I'd never dreamt i'd 'feel'. She didn't seem to mind it, and soon, I was cupping her backside.
She took me aside, told me to step outside with her, which i obliged. I was led outside, where, next thing i know, she grabbed at my hair, pulled me forward, and impinged her lips onto mine. Soon, we were grabbing each other, and heaven's doors were opened. I didn't even have to knock.
I felt a tenderness like i've never felt or imagined before. I pulled her onto me in a flash, and gave her some of my own version of mouth to mouth. We repeated this a few times, and i felt a 'surge' of hormones awakening my 'organ'.
When we finally parted, I said bye and so did she. We never asked each others names, or phone numbers.
I felt guilty and elated at the same time. Things were never so complicated and easy at the same time.
Here was a girl, responsible for my first kiss and the feelings it invoked, but i'll probably never see her again.
As the girl moves on from one 'random guy' to another, oblivious to what she's done to transform me, my perceptions of the word 'slut', 'bitch', loyalty, and guilt change forever. I now seek lust. Perhaps, this will 'complete' me.
I've always believed that true love can be found. I had no misconceptions about love, lust, or the likes. And the first time 'it' happened, turned out to be the last time. The girl was 'complicated' in many ways. But the thing that mattered most to me was that i was happy. I loved spending time with her, listening to music, watching t.v shows together, cooking sometimes, and dreaming about cuddling up in bed.
It all started in the month of October. A mutual friend told me that she had a little crush on me, (which i didn't quite believe at first) and she was planning on meeting and telling me. Actually it was the other way around. I told a mutual friend that I had a crush on her.So a date was fixed, where in i was stood up.
I managed to convince her to go out with me, and soon we had a 'connection' of sorts,and despite the awkwardness that followed, I managed to open up quite a bit. Being Insecure was my thing, till about then. I matured a bit more as a person, i figure. She never failed to calm me, when i was angry about things. I realised that 'this' was something special, simply because i was happier as a person.
And since i couldn't give 'this' a meaningful term, I called it love. And so did she. As the days rolled by, and seasons came and went, we were in what people call a 'relationship'. Sleepless nights were a plenty. Rolling on both sides in bed, wondering what she'd be doing now, perpetually calling her even when i didn't have to. It was another issue she didn't pick the calls. She was busy with house work, i figured.This was the order of the day.
Often, we'd hold hands, swing them by our sides, and walk into the distance. We'd look for eternity at the stars, all the while sure that this was no 'infatuation'. Sometimes, I'd bend in to kiss her, only to be disappointed, as she'd back away. Both of us would be nervous. Me, because i did not quite know how to make a move, while she, because she just wasn't 'ready'. This was to be a special event for her.Nevertheless, I understood, or at least tried to. (All guys don't think with their dicks:p ) I felt this was the only thing missing in our relationship. And as you all know, all good things come crashing down, like Murphy's adage. We broke up, for reasons best left un-menitoned. I was left scarred for months. I felt 'Incomplete'. I cried myself to sleep for nights together.
Excerpt 2:
I was having my customary whiskey on the rocks one fine evening,.My friend happened to drag me to a Disco. I was reluctant. I didn't like the music they play, or those bright ass lights they use. But somehow, I agreed to give him company. We entered, ordered a few beers, and voila! I spotted a few hot chicks in skimpy clothes. I've my own perceptions of the word slutty, what's right or wrong, etc etc, but as is always the case, alcohol changes perceptions:P. I got 'introduced' to one good looking girl with the customary 'Hi, how are you?', and a peck on the cheek.
The dj got the night rolling. Soon i realised that i was 'dancing' with her. I could smell the booze all over her. I decided not to take advantage of her in any which way. But she kept coming up beside me, while i tried keeping my distance. Soon, my hands were over her in areas I'd never dreamt i'd 'feel'. She didn't seem to mind it, and soon, I was cupping her backside.
She took me aside, told me to step outside with her, which i obliged. I was led outside, where, next thing i know, she grabbed at my hair, pulled me forward, and impinged her lips onto mine. Soon, we were grabbing each other, and heaven's doors were opened. I didn't even have to knock.
I felt a tenderness like i've never felt or imagined before. I pulled her onto me in a flash, and gave her some of my own version of mouth to mouth. We repeated this a few times, and i felt a 'surge' of hormones awakening my 'organ'.
When we finally parted, I said bye and so did she. We never asked each others names, or phone numbers.
I felt guilty and elated at the same time. Things were never so complicated and easy at the same time.
Here was a girl, responsible for my first kiss and the feelings it invoked, but i'll probably never see her again.
As the girl moves on from one 'random guy' to another, oblivious to what she's done to transform me, my perceptions of the word 'slut', 'bitch', loyalty, and guilt change forever. I now seek lust. Perhaps, this will 'complete' me.
p:s- Excerpt 1 was written by allan harper when he was 20, and excerpt 2 by charlie harper when he was 12. Charlie found 'excerpt' 1 near his bedside table a few days ago, and swears that allan has mostly lied about his realationship:P . Allan always failed to calm his 'girlfriend', when she'd get angry for every which reason possible. Charlie also claims that Allan would look for eternity at the stars, wondering why he's so miserable in the first place. He was portraying a 'stable' man image. Allan does still remain scarred, often reminded in ghastly dreams about how the girl was repelled by his 'moving in for the kiss' action.
p:p:s- Those who don't know these characters, please watch two and a half men, pronto!
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Silence.
The sound of a beckoning silence;
that follows at dawn's first light.
Breaking the circle of violence,
that has lost its will to fight.
Calm on the outside,seething on the inside,
like two peas in a pod.
Nowhere to run to, or hide;
Does that not strike you as odd?
It has to choose between friend and foe,
No one knows what fate has in store.
The sky above and the ground below;
There's trouble knocking at the back door.
But virtue has its own reward;
The sun always shines after the rain.
So, do not even try to give in,
For silence will stick with you through thick and thin.
Monday, November 23, 2009
I should have written this in September: PART two
On september 22nd, we had six hours of theory classes. I always have problems waking up at 6:30 odd and getting ready for class. The good thing about this semester is that impossible subjects like Optical Fibre Communication and D.S.P have been assigned to visiting faculty. Frankly, we couldn't care less. Ironic in a way, since we're most likely going to get 'screwed' in these subjects. We convince them 'faculty' about why we're coming late to class and 9/10 times, they pretty much buy it.
'The Patriots' was scheduled for screening at 12 p.m. The name sounded kind-of enticing, so i decided i'd bunk the elective classes and head down to the cinema screening, only to realise that they were screening 'Decalog-1'. I had enjoyed kieslowski's work in Three colours Blue- especially the score and the excellent acting by Juliette Binoche. Decalog-1 is about the first commandment.
'The Patriots' was scheduled for screening at 12 p.m. The name sounded kind-of enticing, so i decided i'd bunk the elective classes and head down to the cinema screening, only to realise that they were screening 'Decalog-1'. I had enjoyed kieslowski's work in Three colours Blue- especially the score and the excellent acting by Juliette Binoche. Decalog-1 is about the first commandment.
"I am the LORD your God who brought you out of the land of Egypt, from the house of slavery. You shall have no other gods before Me..."
In this 50 min snippet, a University teacher trains his son in 'scientific methods' he himself has verified and found to be foolproof, but fate decides otherwise. I've always been fascinated with the whole 'God' angle to Scientific reason, and how you can't be too sure about anything. Hope is a very dicey equation, and sometimes, God himself doesn't believe in miracles. The ending is truly magnificent, and all i kept saying was- 'shit, shit, shit'.
The next day was bleddy lab at 7.30, which i always hate attending. So i managed to sit through three hours, pretending to process information about SCR's and their associated nonsense.
'The cranes are flying' was screening in the noon. I loved this movie. It is so beautifully shot for a 1960's movie. I especially loved the shots of the two lovers chasing each other on the spiral staircase.
Spoiler:
The female lead- 'Veronica' (who has very sharp features:P) falls in love with 'Boris', only to then hear he's been shortlisted for the war. She doesn't get to say a proper goodbye to him. Boris' cousin Mark proposes his love to her, and they get married. However, she does not forget Boris, and a battle between her 'security' and betrayal ensues. The key element of this movie is a 'doll', and the importance of this is brought out in the end. I love the movie's title as it presents exactly that.
I was particularly annoyed with a few uninterested people sitting behind me. The incessant clutter of keypads of mobile phones, followed by a laser beam directed at the screen. It really pissed me off. Somewhere in between, one said to another- 'macha idu true louu' :P wtf. The kind of characters one meets at a cinema is rather intriguing.
On thursday morning, I went to college, but decided to bunk classes, so basically i wasted some fuel:P
It was a friend enigman's birthday. And also, we heard that the Noted carnatic singer 'Balamurali Krishna' was visiting a friends house. It was hard to believe that i'd be in his 'gracious presence'. But there we were, five of us, taking his 'ashirvada'. He was dressed very elegantly, a simple shirt and a simple kacche panche. He told us to study well. We didn't speak much, mainly because we were too stunned to see him face to face. We tried though.
I'll be frank in saying I haven't heard much of his work, but I do know a little bit abour 'Raga', 'Thala', and know what octaves the man can work. So it was a nice moment for me, considering the ashirvada part, and was already turning out to be a great day for my friend. ( we often tease the chap by calling him sangeeth vidwan. Do the math:P). After this, we headed to the much famed G.T.R, where we savoured some masala dosas with much verocity.
The great U.Srinivas was playing at Ganapati Sachidananda Ashrama at 10, so obviously we headed there:) We thought, to hell with it, and went way up front right in front of the stage and glued our asses. I swear i've never seen such speed in my life. Sometimes, his finger movements were invisible. He literally tamed and toyed with his instruments. He was accompanied by his brother- U rajesh, who i must say is also 'something else'. On of the Thyagara compositions, entharo i guess, I closed my eyes for a moment. I'd say i'll label what i heard as the purest sound. It was legend.... wait for it....dary:P. We spoke about this the entire day. In the night, we hit a dhaba to celebrate with customary 'tanni'. There, we drank to Balaguru, music, life and the day that never was:)
P:S- The next day, i watched ' Coffee and cigarettes', but that does deserve any mention?
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Windy Windy
The heavy wind is blowing hard in my face;
I wonder how many storms it has fathered.
It blows east, it blows west,
It glides and slides, till it finds a vent.
I ask the lord- 'From where has it come'?;
And he answers by blowing some.
Why all this fury and rampage;
Is there no calm and peace?
Perhaps there is no appeasement,
To such a mystery!
The wind sees no death. Life after life.
My friend, let it blow, let it live on,
Let it create a marvellous saga, while us humans go gaga:)
Sunday, November 8, 2009
I should have written this in september: PART 1
Mysore had a lot of activities in store during Dasara. I've been here nine years but still haven't convinced my ass to check out the wrestling events that are held with much grandeur. Nor have i paid any visits to the karnatic music sessions usually held in the famed Mysore Palace which is now, the second most visited monument/structure in India, after the Taj Mahal.
Anyway, this time, Dasara was to be held in the third week of September, with much hype provided by the media, as this was the first time it was held with B.J.P at the helm of things. I'd read somewhere that the Mysore Film society was having something called the 'Mysore Film festival' and they were slated to play around 20 movies of various genres from 19th-26th. I decided that college was not a 'suitable' sanctuary for the entire week, as Cinema always holds a higher ground for me:)
I missed Kim Ki Duk's Spring Summer Fall Winter... Spring as i didn't realise it was playing on saturday, the 19th. Ki Duk has sort of a cult status in World Cinema, and he's a fantastic Director. I downloaded the movie on torrent, and watched it the following week. It's about a Buddhist monk and the lessons he learns as he passes through the seasons of his life. Very good imagery and attention to detail is prominent. A must watch.
The weekend brought with it the usual mundane activities. Monday morning blues coupled with the fact that 'Wild Strawberries' was playing meant that i was sure to bunk class.
Not many can sit through a Bergman movie without flinching in their seats, but those who can, will realise that Bergman defines the epitome of cinema. His signature move is a close-in on a face painted with emotions.
Anyway, this time, Dasara was to be held in the third week of September, with much hype provided by the media, as this was the first time it was held with B.J.P at the helm of things. I'd read somewhere that the Mysore Film society was having something called the 'Mysore Film festival' and they were slated to play around 20 movies of various genres from 19th-26th. I decided that college was not a 'suitable' sanctuary for the entire week, as Cinema always holds a higher ground for me:)
I missed Kim Ki Duk's Spring Summer Fall Winter... Spring as i didn't realise it was playing on saturday, the 19th. Ki Duk has sort of a cult status in World Cinema, and he's a fantastic Director. I downloaded the movie on torrent, and watched it the following week. It's about a Buddhist monk and the lessons he learns as he passes through the seasons of his life. Very good imagery and attention to detail is prominent. A must watch.
The weekend brought with it the usual mundane activities. Monday morning blues coupled with the fact that 'Wild Strawberries' was playing meant that i was sure to bunk class.
Not many can sit through a Bergman movie without flinching in their seats, but those who can, will realise that Bergman defines the epitome of cinema. His signature move is a close-in on a face painted with emotions.
Wild Strawberries is like a jigsaw puzzle. With each viewing, one is sure to garner different meanings about life's situations. With all Bergman movies (at least the ones i've seen), it's as if each human emotion is a piece of string, neatly interwoven and presented to the viewer in all Complexity possible. I guess that's the best way to describe Bergman's style. Each viewing presents a new layer. The base layer is the base story- An ageing professor feels that his life was useless, and he's forced to come to terms with his emptiness, confront the demons of his past, and find solace in 'something'. The movie really is, about this 'something'.
Towards the end,the music is very soothing. The last shot is the customary close-up:). Perhaps this is the reason the word 'Bergmanesque' was coined. A fitting tribute This movie is best watched alone.
'In the mood for love' was playing next, and i decided not to watch it. The reason being- A first time Bergman fellow with me. Do the math:P. I missed a Kurasawa movie- Throne of blood due to a heavy lunch and i spent the rest of the day at home. In the evenings, I used to pay visits to 'Yuva Dasara', which was happening at the nearby Maharaja grounds. The sound system this time was bad, and the atmosphere was mostly marred by incessant rains, which made the soil all mucky. However, S.P Balasubramanium, Raghu Dixit, Shreya Goshal and a few others still came and sang stuff.
Star of Mysore had an article that read- Goshal enthralls mysore. This gave a whole new meaning to the word 'enthrall', considering that the sound was really bad and her voice was dismal, or so i thought. A friend and myself started comparing the crowd there to the one present for the Iron Maiden concerts we attended in March '07 and feb '09. (the only actual 'concerts' i'd ever been to). Yes, we were that jobless. To top it all, we were scanning the Horizon for so called chicks. I figure the rains kept them at home itself:)
P:S- A lot more happened that week, and i shall dwell about it in the next post.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
This past month has been crazy with many ups and downs. Diwali was mighty fun. I stayed over at a friend's place, we drank beer late into the night and he cooked us some tasty, albeit bland, omelets(I've surely spelt this wrong). We even sneaked out at two in the morning for a short drive.
Earlier that day, we hit the near-by market to buy em crackers.
As always, we had what one would call a cash crunch situation, so we decided that we'd limit purchases to around 400rs/- range. Big-man-kulla (a friend) decided that he'd put his bargaining skills to test. In the end, the shop-keeper was impressed that he gave us bitti crackers, and called kulla, Bhai, which i thought was funny, considering his stature:D.
It'd been many years since i last bursted crackers, nothing to do with the environmental pollution cliche.
It turned out to be quite an eventful evening pooled with lots of laughter. The weekend went by pretty smoothly.
The night of 20th oct, I couldn't sleep at all. I was hell bent on catching up on some, the reason being lab at 7.30 a.m, the next day. The thing with sleep is, when you need it most, it just doesn't happen. At about four in the morning, my Mom woke me up. She told me that my Uncle (her Brother-in-law) was not responding, and that she was headed to check.
Damn! I hate these situations. I thought to myself- If i don't get a call in the next hour, everything is fine, and the poor man is alright. But deep down, I simply knew that something was not right. Soon enough, my Dad called me to inform me about his passing.
There is some intuition that Death beckons. It turns out that my sister, and a few cousins as well, didn't sleep the previous night either. It had been Eight years since a death in the family. This was least expected, as the poor chap, despite his age (80 plus), was mighty fit. I still couldn't believe the chain of events.
My Mom had told me that a few days back, he'd spoken to her about his 'impending doom' and how everyday was a birthday of sorts.
I've observed one thing- Death brings people closer. In many ways. Emotions take over. People cry a LOT. I still have one problem i'm yet to solve. How to speak to a bereaved person?
I mean, you just can't walk over and say- I'm sorry about your loss. It's bleddy obvious you're sorry. I personally feel a hug is more comforting than reminding someone about their loss. Something else i observed that day- Some people chit-chat about marriages, their job, lives. I overheard someone speaking about their business proposals.
This one occasion where one's supposed to mourn a loss and pay tribute to the life of a man, but this is how they show their respect.
Everyone keeps telling me that my Uncle was a very independant man, and that 'Independence' was the lesson he planned to share with us. He insisted that no one accompany him to the Doctor's clinic for a check up. My aunt later told me that his last words were in fact- 'Don't disturb anyone at this untimely hour'.
I never knew him that well, so I can't fathom the heartbreak that his near and dear ones must be feeling. But i know for sure that Life really is a lesson and we eventually learn it when we're through.
Even to this day, when i look at his photo resting on a shelf near the kitchen, I can't believe he's really gone. I guess In the end, One seeks solace by going back in time and cherishing memories.
P:S- This whole week's been a bitch. Now I have em internals, Operating Systems tomorrow. So I'm off, and i promise to write soon.
Earlier that day, we hit the near-by market to buy em crackers.
As always, we had what one would call a cash crunch situation, so we decided that we'd limit purchases to around 400rs/- range. Big-man-kulla (a friend) decided that he'd put his bargaining skills to test. In the end, the shop-keeper was impressed that he gave us bitti crackers, and called kulla, Bhai, which i thought was funny, considering his stature:D.
It'd been many years since i last bursted crackers, nothing to do with the environmental pollution cliche.
It turned out to be quite an eventful evening pooled with lots of laughter. The weekend went by pretty smoothly.
The night of 20th oct, I couldn't sleep at all. I was hell bent on catching up on some, the reason being lab at 7.30 a.m, the next day. The thing with sleep is, when you need it most, it just doesn't happen. At about four in the morning, my Mom woke me up. She told me that my Uncle (her Brother-in-law) was not responding, and that she was headed to check.
Damn! I hate these situations. I thought to myself- If i don't get a call in the next hour, everything is fine, and the poor man is alright. But deep down, I simply knew that something was not right. Soon enough, my Dad called me to inform me about his passing.
There is some intuition that Death beckons. It turns out that my sister, and a few cousins as well, didn't sleep the previous night either. It had been Eight years since a death in the family. This was least expected, as the poor chap, despite his age (80 plus), was mighty fit. I still couldn't believe the chain of events.
My Mom had told me that a few days back, he'd spoken to her about his 'impending doom' and how everyday was a birthday of sorts.
I've observed one thing- Death brings people closer. In many ways. Emotions take over. People cry a LOT. I still have one problem i'm yet to solve. How to speak to a bereaved person?
I mean, you just can't walk over and say- I'm sorry about your loss. It's bleddy obvious you're sorry. I personally feel a hug is more comforting than reminding someone about their loss. Something else i observed that day- Some people chit-chat about marriages, their job, lives. I overheard someone speaking about their business proposals.
This one occasion where one's supposed to mourn a loss and pay tribute to the life of a man, but this is how they show their respect.
Everyone keeps telling me that my Uncle was a very independant man, and that 'Independence' was the lesson he planned to share with us. He insisted that no one accompany him to the Doctor's clinic for a check up. My aunt later told me that his last words were in fact- 'Don't disturb anyone at this untimely hour'.
I never knew him that well, so I can't fathom the heartbreak that his near and dear ones must be feeling. But i know for sure that Life really is a lesson and we eventually learn it when we're through.
Even to this day, when i look at his photo resting on a shelf near the kitchen, I can't believe he's really gone. I guess In the end, One seeks solace by going back in time and cherishing memories.
P:S- This whole week's been a bitch. Now I have em internals, Operating Systems tomorrow. So I'm off, and i promise to write soon.
Friday, October 16, 2009
The lost symbol- A review.
Doesn't this book cover look enticing?:P
I've always wondered why it's taken Dan Brown six odd years to pen another book.Angels and Demons was a very different read, yet engrossing in a way Da Vinci put him in the limelight in a big way. It was a great book, probably one of the best ever written. So one would definitely wonder, what was with the hiatus?
But as you read the Last Symbol, you'd really appreciate the amount of research into symbology, science, and art. The attention to detail is probably more captivating than his previous books.
The thing with Dan Brown is, even though he has drawn onto him, a fair share of criticism from cynics, who i think are just jealous of his writing skills, The Lost Symbol, like it's predecessors, will encourage some healthy debate among the masses.
The Characters-
Robert Langdon- His usual mystical self, now a bit more famous as a result of his previous escapades.His brain tinkering with symbology and it's different forms, interpreting shit where others probably don't see shit:). And always on the move. When he's toying with symbols, it's almost as though the reader is inside him, rooting for him. And considering that Mr Dan Brown ideas for about 12 future books featuring Langdon, i can't fathom the realm of possibilities.
I despise the theory of relativity even more!!
Mal'akh- This guy reminds me of Kevin Spacey in 'Seven'. No brutality to that extent though. Nevertheless, he is a genius in every sense, and often will baffle you as you read. But seriously, he's the weakest character in the book, even though in a sense, he's very mystical. You'll know as you read.:)
Peter Solomon- A brilliant man, very well cultured, 'Rich' in every sense. A man of immense power, A Mason of the highest degree, who's very passionate about his Brotherhood and the boundaries he draws about the extents he can go to in the interest of his Brotherhood. This book revolves around him.
Katherine Solomon- An amazing scientist, doing research on things that will change the way Mankind portrays Science. Her character reminds me of Sophie Neveu. Strong motivations and intentions, and that's all i'll say.
Warren Bellamy- He doesn't have that big a role to play. But he doesn't disappoint.
Sato- A C.I.A dame, you think a 4 feet 11 inch frame is not imposing, think again:P
This novel is on par with Da Vinci, if not better. There will be a few WTF's, but more whoa's , but the epilogue is very captivating. It evokes Imagery that even Da Vinci couldn't. This book is not about Symbology, art, science, God or Humans. It is something more.
As you read, you realise the amount of homework Brown's done with this. The only weak part is the character of Mal'akh, but all great books have weak characters.
The thing with good reads is that the characters never disappoint, the plots never goes astray. Be it Godfather, The Harry Potter series or The Fist of God, the plots have all been page turners.
As you read the final chapters, you'll applaud the book for what it is, and smile to yourself because, Dan Brown has pulled it off again.
P:S- Happy Diwali people, do read the book. You surely will see the 'light' in all this 'darkness'
Sunday, October 11, 2009
class trip, part 2:)
Before i proceed with my ramblings on the Mallali falls part of the trip, I'd like to mention a little joke our class guys shared before boarding ze bus. We had decided that the best we could do with the leftovers from food was to feed them to the dogs there:). We then observed how them scavengers savagely gulped down curd rice, with absolutely no regard for table manners.
Someone decided that the pickle shouldn't go to waste, so we left it in the open and joked about how the dogs would have loose stools for months:).
It was a good laugh, and even now, remembering that incident always brings a smile to my face. So much so that, i even do so in the most boring of classes, when i'm not playing bingo, staring at my watch or pretending to listen.
It was almost around 4 odd when we left the pushpagiri base. Just about 3km to Mallali, but we managed to reach only by 4.45, the reason for which is-
1) Our very experienced driver-bhai-saab, whose driving skills were almost obsolete in every sense.
2) The roads, which were mighty fine in that there was hardly a road:)
3) The 'placing a stone behind the rear wheel' method, which i've mentioned in the previous post. 4) He tried convincing us that the brake doesn't work if he doesn't drive in first gear on a down slope.
We stopped the bus about 3 km from the falls, at the only 'homely' home in the vicinity. A coorgi uncle told us that it was hardly a 2km trek. But one thing i've learnt in these places is that
'x' km= '2x' km:)
The trek was through some dense forest. The trail was clearly marked, very wide, mainly because of incessant usage by four wheel drives (who am i kidding). A while into our descent, there were two paths diverged in the green woods. Adhip and myself did not take the one less travelled by, and that did make all the difference:P. However, the others somehow managed to do so, and didn't realise they did for quite a while. (more on this later)
We could now hear the water roaring. I didn't have any expectations from these falls. It's not very well known, it's very remote, and hard to reach. However, I must say that it's quite a sight.
I've seen the Niagara up close in all its glory. But everytime I close my eyes and try conjuring up a vivid Image, my memory fails me. This is not the case with Mallali. It's sight is so mystical, with mountains in the background, Steep rock faces, Mist cover, The tree cover, and the clouds floating just above. An absolute beauty. In a way, the remoteness of this place actually makes it more mystical. Marvellous place to visit. A must.It's really a shame it's not promoted that well. But then again, isn't Niagara all about hype? I definitely think so. I regret us not having gone there in the morning itself.
It was getting dark, Nearly around 5:30 when we got a view of Mallali. It really doesn't seem like a 62 m drop! Bite me. I wanted to take in every moment. It was almost as though I didn't know where to look, at the roaring water, or the clouds above, the mist floating across, slowly covering the falls in a blanket, as if to say- You don't deserve to watch:)
A farmer nearby said that no one had crossed his path apart from the few of us. This was worrying. About twenty from our class had apparently gone the wrong way. (the detour at the beginning). Another very adventurous fellow decided to go descend further down, by making his own paths and inviting his own doom. I'm sure i'm speaking for everybody when i say that we were more tensed than we'd be during exams.
Meanwhile, Bus-driver-macha cantered along from the distance and told us that the Bus was stuck in slosh. The rear wheel was giving us heat. So, only one word now being processed by us.
HOGE.
About five of us struggled uphill towards the bus, and to our horror, considered coming to terms with the impending doom, and make alternate arrangements.
Around seven odd, the girls were back from their other 'trip', they did get to see the falls!( good for em). So a burden off our shoulders. But we kept wondering about the whereabouts of adventurous fellow. (Not using his name).
To our relief, he was back! And soon he found himself at the receiving end of some serious wrath,that went something like this-
#@^@HOGE@#$^@FUCK#%R@^@! THNK@# @@#$!!!!!!
Our bus was going nowhere. Nature had decided to fuck with us:). Our bus driver had a few ideas which he failed to implement. Now i was prepared for the worst. It was pitch dark, so Adarsh and myself decided to walk the girls back to that 'homely' home, and arrange for a tow truck or tractor. Adrenalin was pumping hard. We tried to act all Manly and fearless, but in reality, we were peeing in our pants!
But to our relief, the other ec boys managed to use some logic with inertia and momentum and the bus was released. So on we hopped onto the bus, joking about our little mis-adventure and how easily it could've screwed us up. We finally reached mysore by around eleven, and I soon realised that the comfort of sleep is more joyful than 'beauty' in any form:)
Conclusions and lessons learnt-
1) Life's a bitch sometimes
2) Life is fun sometimes.
3) Don't fuck with nature, it'll fuck you harder.
4) You give the term 'beauty' many meanings, and derive many meanings, but when you're actually encapsulated in something so real and fresh, you take in every moment. That's because you know 'beauty' when you see it
5) some memories are meant to be preserved forever, whilst some aren't:)
6) You try drawing a line between reality and frugality.
7) Paisa Vasool. 275 RS/- per head. Including 400 extra that we ended up paying driver for exorbitant diesel usage.
8) Laughter is contagious:)
9) Stray dogs copulate like rats! Someone please introduce contraceptives:P
10) The western ghats are out of this world.
P:S- Blogger's been acting like a bitch, so this post is still incomplete. Next post- missing parts.
Someone decided that the pickle shouldn't go to waste, so we left it in the open and joked about how the dogs would have loose stools for months:).
It was a good laugh, and even now, remembering that incident always brings a smile to my face. So much so that, i even do so in the most boring of classes, when i'm not playing bingo, staring at my watch or pretending to listen.
It was almost around 4 odd when we left the pushpagiri base. Just about 3km to Mallali, but we managed to reach only by 4.45, the reason for which is-
1) Our very experienced driver-bhai-saab, whose driving skills were almost obsolete in every sense.
2) The roads, which were mighty fine in that there was hardly a road:)
3) The 'placing a stone behind the rear wheel' method, which i've mentioned in the previous post. 4) He tried convincing us that the brake doesn't work if he doesn't drive in first gear on a down slope.
We stopped the bus about 3 km from the falls, at the only 'homely' home in the vicinity. A coorgi uncle told us that it was hardly a 2km trek. But one thing i've learnt in these places is that
'x' km= '2x' km:)
The trek was through some dense forest. The trail was clearly marked, very wide, mainly because of incessant usage by four wheel drives (who am i kidding). A while into our descent, there were two paths diverged in the green woods. Adhip and myself did not take the one less travelled by, and that did make all the difference:P. However, the others somehow managed to do so, and didn't realise they did for quite a while. (more on this later)
We could now hear the water roaring. I didn't have any expectations from these falls. It's not very well known, it's very remote, and hard to reach. However, I must say that it's quite a sight.
I've seen the Niagara up close in all its glory. But everytime I close my eyes and try conjuring up a vivid Image, my memory fails me. This is not the case with Mallali. It's sight is so mystical, with mountains in the background, Steep rock faces, Mist cover, The tree cover, and the clouds floating just above. An absolute beauty. In a way, the remoteness of this place actually makes it more mystical. Marvellous place to visit. A must.It's really a shame it's not promoted that well. But then again, isn't Niagara all about hype? I definitely think so. I regret us not having gone there in the morning itself.
It was getting dark, Nearly around 5:30 when we got a view of Mallali. It really doesn't seem like a 62 m drop! Bite me. I wanted to take in every moment. It was almost as though I didn't know where to look, at the roaring water, or the clouds above, the mist floating across, slowly covering the falls in a blanket, as if to say- You don't deserve to watch:)
A farmer nearby said that no one had crossed his path apart from the few of us. This was worrying. About twenty from our class had apparently gone the wrong way. (the detour at the beginning). Another very adventurous fellow decided to go descend further down, by making his own paths and inviting his own doom. I'm sure i'm speaking for everybody when i say that we were more tensed than we'd be during exams.
Meanwhile, Bus-driver-macha cantered along from the distance and told us that the Bus was stuck in slosh. The rear wheel was giving us heat. So, only one word now being processed by us.
HOGE.
About five of us struggled uphill towards the bus, and to our horror, considered coming to terms with the impending doom, and make alternate arrangements.
Around seven odd, the girls were back from their other 'trip', they did get to see the falls!( good for em). So a burden off our shoulders. But we kept wondering about the whereabouts of adventurous fellow. (Not using his name).
To our relief, he was back! And soon he found himself at the receiving end of some serious wrath,that went something like this-
#@^@HOGE@#$^@FUCK#%R@^@! THNK@# @@#$!!!!!!
Our bus was going nowhere. Nature had decided to fuck with us:). Our bus driver had a few ideas which he failed to implement. Now i was prepared for the worst. It was pitch dark, so Adarsh and myself decided to walk the girls back to that 'homely' home, and arrange for a tow truck or tractor. Adrenalin was pumping hard. We tried to act all Manly and fearless, but in reality, we were peeing in our pants!
But to our relief, the other ec boys managed to use some logic with inertia and momentum and the bus was released. So on we hopped onto the bus, joking about our little mis-adventure and how easily it could've screwed us up. We finally reached mysore by around eleven, and I soon realised that the comfort of sleep is more joyful than 'beauty' in any form:)
Conclusions and lessons learnt-
1) Life's a bitch sometimes
2) Life is fun sometimes.
3) Don't fuck with nature, it'll fuck you harder.
4) You give the term 'beauty' many meanings, and derive many meanings, but when you're actually encapsulated in something so real and fresh, you take in every moment. That's because you know 'beauty' when you see it
5) some memories are meant to be preserved forever, whilst some aren't:)
6) You try drawing a line between reality and frugality.
7) Paisa Vasool. 275 RS/- per head. Including 400 extra that we ended up paying driver for exorbitant diesel usage.
8) Laughter is contagious:)
9) Stray dogs copulate like rats! Someone please introduce contraceptives:P
10) The western ghats are out of this world.
P:S- Blogger's been acting like a bitch, so this post is still incomplete. Next post- missing parts.
Monday, October 5, 2009
class trip, part 1:)
On 13th September, about twenty six of us assembled in front of the college in a window of time extending from 4:30 to about 6:30 a.m. I guess the i don't have to mention punctuality or its different forms here. Our bus was late! And the driver sucked! He looked very inexperienced. (more on him later).
This time, we planned and actually worked things out just two days beforehand. All of us needed a break, and bad! I'm sure I'd be speaking for everyone here. Anything away from the clutter of the city works for me.
By the time we actually left Mysore, it was a little past seven. The plan we kept simple. A "trek" to the Pushpagiri peak and then a visit to Mallali falls, both in the district of Somwarpet, bordering Coorg.
On the bus, I realised there's no way to escape the chaos associated with antakshari, and so called 'introductions' at the front of a bus, and excuses for ragging. Something like mano-a-mano but more like many against one. It was so much fun. Imitating teachers, speaking about varied interests from alcohol, boyfriends,crushes, food, parents, pit-stops to answer nature's call, and even discussing about our uncertain futures. I think i should save all that for another post titled embarrassment:D. We stopped for breakfast at the bank of the gorgeous cauvery.
Shavige upit and kesari bath for breakfast:). Our first tryst with wilderness was a snake gliding effortlessly in the water. It was quite a sight especially for me, for i hadn't seen a snake in quite a while. Unfortunately, we couldn't take a pic. (You know how it is with these river currents:P).
We finished breakfast around ten odd, and it was another two hours before we reached the base. 40km in 2 hrs. Do the Maths:P So that's how bad the road was. At one bend, the road was cut off, probably because of incessant rains, and replaced by a few rocky patches, and stones placed cruelly on some slick mud, as if to say, here's your road:P. Our bad-ass driver was persistant not to continue forward. He even made it a point never to return again on this torrid road. What did he expect? A four lane highway through a ghat section?
On the way.
Apparently driver-macha frequents the Ooty route. But this is tough, no? After much insistance, he agreed to drive. On some steep sections, we were forced to push the bus using that 'placing a rock beneath the back tire' method. Ironical, considering we paid him to drive.:P
It was around 11.30 when we arrived at the base. It was a beautiful place. I'm sure these pictures don't do any justice. One doesn't look around and see the colour green in its different forms in all directions. This is a rarity, considering the colours we associate every other day, are to do with the city and it's incessant clutter.
Near the base
So here we were, at the base, ready for our trek. 8km to the peak, our guide said. Impossible shit! In the interest of the class ( In the interest of the girls), We decided (by we, i mean the 'tribe') to trek for about two hours and return back. The trek was not steep intially, but about halfway through, it was imminent that time was not on our side.
Pushpagiri peak in the distance.
The 'tribe' about 2.5 km from the peak
Meanwhile, the others who decided not to climb were having a gala time near the base. Some reptiles and amphibians were spotted:p
One thing i'd like to mention during the ascent. My mind wandered a bit over what would happen to someone who's meandering about alone, and is lost in the wilderness. Humans always hook onto something, anything that can give them hope, can boost their survival instincts. So i wondered, what if one is stuck here for days? From where will he pry some hope?. My body shuddered over the possibilities.
Respect doesn't come easily. But right then, it shot right up my ass!:P
So like i said, it was getting late, soin the interest of the 'class', we began our descent, Only to find out later about the slack our skin took from all the leeches. Those sons of bitches hold on for dear life. Where the fuck is the respect?:P
At about three odd, we were back at the base. The 'tribe', which i'm proud to say had a dame too (though i couldn't find a pic with her in it), got a round of applause from the rest of the clan. Only the mighty god knows why.
Over lunch, we talked about leeches, nature, the very sweet waters of the stream and what not.
Then we gave the leftovers to stray dogs, got back on the bus, and began our journey for the mystical Mallali falls. A journey it was indeed.
Well, that's for part 2.
This time, we planned and actually worked things out just two days beforehand. All of us needed a break, and bad! I'm sure I'd be speaking for everyone here. Anything away from the clutter of the city works for me.
By the time we actually left Mysore, it was a little past seven. The plan we kept simple. A "trek" to the Pushpagiri peak and then a visit to Mallali falls, both in the district of Somwarpet, bordering Coorg.
On the bus, I realised there's no way to escape the chaos associated with antakshari, and so called 'introductions' at the front of a bus, and excuses for ragging. Something like mano-a-mano but more like many against one. It was so much fun. Imitating teachers, speaking about varied interests from alcohol, boyfriends,crushes, food, parents, pit-stops to answer nature's call, and even discussing about our uncertain futures. I think i should save all that for another post titled embarrassment:D. We stopped for breakfast at the bank of the gorgeous cauvery.
Shavige upit and kesari bath for breakfast:). Our first tryst with wilderness was a snake gliding effortlessly in the water. It was quite a sight especially for me, for i hadn't seen a snake in quite a while. Unfortunately, we couldn't take a pic. (You know how it is with these river currents:P).
'Greens'
We finished breakfast around ten odd, and it was another two hours before we reached the base. 40km in 2 hrs. Do the Maths:P So that's how bad the road was. At one bend, the road was cut off, probably because of incessant rains, and replaced by a few rocky patches, and stones placed cruelly on some slick mud, as if to say, here's your road:P. Our bad-ass driver was persistant not to continue forward. He even made it a point never to return again on this torrid road. What did he expect? A four lane highway through a ghat section?
On the way.Apparently driver-macha frequents the Ooty route. But this is tough, no? After much insistance, he agreed to drive. On some steep sections, we were forced to push the bus using that 'placing a rock beneath the back tire' method. Ironical, considering we paid him to drive.:P
It was around 11.30 when we arrived at the base. It was a beautiful place. I'm sure these pictures don't do any justice. One doesn't look around and see the colour green in its different forms in all directions. This is a rarity, considering the colours we associate every other day, are to do with the city and it's incessant clutter.
Near the base
So here we were, at the base, ready for our trek. 8km to the peak, our guide said. Impossible shit! In the interest of the class ( In the interest of the girls), We decided (by we, i mean the 'tribe') to trek for about two hours and return back. The trek was not steep intially, but about halfway through, it was imminent that time was not on our side.
Pushpagiri peak in the distance.
The 'tribe' about 2.5 km from the peak
Meanwhile, the others who decided not to climb were having a gala time near the base. Some reptiles and amphibians were spotted:p
Camouflage
One thing i'd like to mention during the ascent. My mind wandered a bit over what would happen to someone who's meandering about alone, and is lost in the wilderness. Humans always hook onto something, anything that can give them hope, can boost their survival instincts. So i wondered, what if one is stuck here for days? From where will he pry some hope?. My body shuddered over the possibilities.
Respect doesn't come easily. But right then, it shot right up my ass!:P
So like i said, it was getting late, soin the interest of the 'class', we began our descent, Only to find out later about the slack our skin took from all the leeches. Those sons of bitches hold on for dear life. Where the fuck is the respect?:P
At about three odd, we were back at the base. The 'tribe', which i'm proud to say had a dame too (though i couldn't find a pic with her in it), got a round of applause from the rest of the clan. Only the mighty god knows why.
Over lunch, we talked about leeches, nature, the very sweet waters of the stream and what not.
Then we gave the leftovers to stray dogs, got back on the bus, and began our journey for the mystical Mallali falls. A journey it was indeed.
Well, that's for part 2.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Oblivion
It was a little after five; I entered the coffee house only to find a significant number of people already standing in queue for takeout. It was almost closing time. Damn. I was already running late on a few errands. I figured i could get my way easy by chatting up the cute cashier guy. But as i started moving forward, a miserly old man told me to get back in line.
Not another wise-ass I thought, not in the least paying heed to his age or his 'principles'.
So there i was, already late, and now impatient. I noticed how a few heads were turned in my direction, and i must say i wasn't surprised.
The gaze of one particular man caught my attention. There he was, sitting cross-legged at a table a few feet away from me. I could sense his eyes scanning my rocking body. Only, i couldn't see his eyes. It was safely hidden behind a set of shades. Maybe to filter the haze from the sun, i thought.
I knew he was constantly looking, taking in the sights. But i didn't have the pleasure of knowing, for sure, that he was guilty of it. My self imposed smugness was slowly building. And why not.
I was wearing a knee length skirt, the hem of which kept flickering upwards whenever the door to the coffee house opened, and a chilling breeze floated across. Anyone would sight this "sight".I didn't mind this at all.
I had gorgeous skin; olive and silky to the touch. Guys who perpetually ogle me, tell me that i remind them of Ana Ivanovic. No bullshit. My ego was sky high.
The yellow pull-over was not doing a good job of concealing the skin above my waist. And i must say, i tried very hard to not do any shielding.
Obviously, this accentuated the lust and longing i could so easily see in the eyes around me.
This was my zone now. Suddenly, time seemed so relative.
My thought-ego process was abruptly halted. A little girl in front of me turned back and asked the man in the shades: ' Dad, do you want a cup-cake?'
He nodded inattentively.His gaze was still fixated on me.
I thought to myself: ' A married man? With a kid! Does he not love his life? Maybe his sex life is a failure. I couldn't picture him to be a happy family man. The lust i thought i 'sensed', gave it all away. Ah! What did i care!!'
I paid for my take-out, gave the man another look, only to get one back. I walked out onto the street.
As the sun began its journey to set on the horizon, my complacency and ego started to rise again.
P:S- The man in the shades gathered his walking stick, and called out to his daughter. Together, they meandered out onto the open road. He was blind.
The woman's ego was not a high rise building. It merely was a stack of dominos:)
Not another wise-ass I thought, not in the least paying heed to his age or his 'principles'.
So there i was, already late, and now impatient. I noticed how a few heads were turned in my direction, and i must say i wasn't surprised.
The gaze of one particular man caught my attention. There he was, sitting cross-legged at a table a few feet away from me. I could sense his eyes scanning my rocking body. Only, i couldn't see his eyes. It was safely hidden behind a set of shades. Maybe to filter the haze from the sun, i thought.
I knew he was constantly looking, taking in the sights. But i didn't have the pleasure of knowing, for sure, that he was guilty of it. My self imposed smugness was slowly building. And why not.
I was wearing a knee length skirt, the hem of which kept flickering upwards whenever the door to the coffee house opened, and a chilling breeze floated across. Anyone would sight this "sight".I didn't mind this at all.
I had gorgeous skin; olive and silky to the touch. Guys who perpetually ogle me, tell me that i remind them of Ana Ivanovic. No bullshit. My ego was sky high.
The yellow pull-over was not doing a good job of concealing the skin above my waist. And i must say, i tried very hard to not do any shielding.
Obviously, this accentuated the lust and longing i could so easily see in the eyes around me.
This was my zone now. Suddenly, time seemed so relative.
My thought-ego process was abruptly halted. A little girl in front of me turned back and asked the man in the shades: ' Dad, do you want a cup-cake?'
He nodded inattentively.His gaze was still fixated on me.
I thought to myself: ' A married man? With a kid! Does he not love his life? Maybe his sex life is a failure. I couldn't picture him to be a happy family man. The lust i thought i 'sensed', gave it all away. Ah! What did i care!!'
I paid for my take-out, gave the man another look, only to get one back. I walked out onto the street.
As the sun began its journey to set on the horizon, my complacency and ego started to rise again.
P:S- The man in the shades gathered his walking stick, and called out to his daughter. Together, they meandered out onto the open road. He was blind.
The woman's ego was not a high rise building. It merely was a stack of dominos:)
Friday, September 18, 2009
18th september
Our College EntranceWell, let me start by mentioning the significance of this day. It was on this very day, exactly three years ago, when i first stepped foot into college. Engineering College that is.
We had what our Faculty called an 'Orientation' program, which actually was pretty much an excuse for us to waste time, as well as for our parents to sit and listen. So I took liberty to take a stroll and take in the sights and sounds. I still remember how the seniors were looking down on us with some smugness, as if to say Be Aware, or we'll scare:)
So basically I was told to keep a low profile, which i easily managed to do. The next day, we had Maths class at 8:30. I didn't know what to expect. I didn't know anyone that well either. We were made to introduce ourselves, say a few words, why we took engineering, the works! I don't remember much, but what i do remember is i managed not to get ragged the first week.
I used to attend labs and classes diligently, Sit silently in class and actually listen!. I was quite a nerd the first year...
Three years on, A lot has changed. I now flaunt the smugness that my seniors flaunted a few years ago. My ego has gone sky high( The 'we are the seniors' ego, i mean:P). I still do attend classes, but listening to pointless lectures is a farce. Bunking labs is no more a sin. Then, I used to reach class five minutes beforehand. Now, I've learnt that it's okay to leave home fifteen minutes past the time when i actually have to be in class:)
So, perspectives have changed. We've gained maturity. Learnt from mistakes. Learnt how to make chits, and copy from "micro xerox". We've learnt how not to fuck around in class. We've learnt how to write apology letters, and maskafy teachers. We weigh our options, and use the one most mitigating to our "cause".
Some things have been the same. The same rains still lash our campus, as the result of which we still take shelter in the 'Gaadi Stand'. The 'Gaadi Stand' fellow still charges Rs 2/- per day. The chocolate milkshake in Yampa(our milk parlour) still are so yummy!! And our 'machas' still go to 'downs' to smoke up. The clouds still meander about, playing hide and seek with us, taunting us like we thought our seniors did.Every year, Old chicks leave, and junior chicks come.
I guess what i'm trying to say is, although a lot as changed since 18th September 2006, Our hearts are still rooted to this place.
A place that has always given me something, even though, at times, i have taken nothing from it. I'm actually scared of letting go in a year's time. And that's the reason i wrote this in the first place.
P:S- I think i can find solace in the fact that I'll be seeing that Entrance board for another year:). but then what?
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
amores perros:)
I can see the love in those sparkling eyes;
Those eyes many a fathom deep.
They tell me of things that can't be said,
For the eyes do the talking.
Everytime I look in them deep oceans,
I fight for some clarity of sorts.
Thoughts flow freely, like a mighty river.
Soon i'm asking myself-Is she the one?
Then a smile etches across my besieged face,
It accentuates the feelings from deep within.
The fear lifts, i see the light;
Only to realise that i've lost my sight:)
P:S-A modified version of my first ever poem:P
Written on 4th August,2007.
Those eyes many a fathom deep.
They tell me of things that can't be said,
For the eyes do the talking.
Everytime I look in them deep oceans,
I fight for some clarity of sorts.
Thoughts flow freely, like a mighty river.
Soon i'm asking myself-Is she the one?
Then a smile etches across my besieged face,
It accentuates the feelings from deep within.
The fear lifts, i see the light;
Only to realise that i've lost my sight:)
P:S-A modified version of my first ever poem:P
Written on 4th August,2007.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Dreams!
My mom keeps telling me i have a lot of potential. She means to say i'm shit brainy but not the least bit hardworking. Atleast that's what i think:P.
I've always been good at Maths. Throughout my life, it's always been my forte (Thank you nickil for the word). I breezed through the Math exams in school, managed 99 in the Tenth boards, 97 again in 12th. Wrote K.CET without any qualms about anything, because, frankly, i was adequately prepared. The bomb came when the results were announced. Everyone at home thought i'd get around the 500th rank. I managed to somehow get 157. I couldn't believe it.
This insignificant number, harboured no significance at all till that glorious day in mid-may 0f '06. All my life i was a mediocre student. Never hogged any limelight. Now i knew what i was capable of. 99.99 percentile!
The regrets soon followed. I.I.T and N.I.T were in my realm of possiblities. Physics and Maths were my holding ground. But yet somehow, the opportunity slipped. I never paid heed to this significant moment in my life.
Three years have gone by. College apparently 'changes' people. The truth of the matter is, It was three years ago i last "studied". Shit happens they say. Now, i'm actually thinking about where my life is heading as opposed to where it could have been.
So i'm going to find me-self one of those job things, work for a few years, and then join the Indian School of Business.Talk about realising potential. There aren't going to be any compromises this time.
This insignificant little blog post is going to be witness to a very gratified event later on. Now here's my inspiration..
I've always been good at Maths. Throughout my life, it's always been my forte (Thank you nickil for the word). I breezed through the Math exams in school, managed 99 in the Tenth boards, 97 again in 12th. Wrote K.CET without any qualms about anything, because, frankly, i was adequately prepared. The bomb came when the results were announced. Everyone at home thought i'd get around the 500th rank. I managed to somehow get 157. I couldn't believe it.
This insignificant number, harboured no significance at all till that glorious day in mid-may 0f '06. All my life i was a mediocre student. Never hogged any limelight. Now i knew what i was capable of. 99.99 percentile!
The regrets soon followed. I.I.T and N.I.T were in my realm of possiblities. Physics and Maths were my holding ground. But yet somehow, the opportunity slipped. I never paid heed to this significant moment in my life.
Three years have gone by. College apparently 'changes' people. The truth of the matter is, It was three years ago i last "studied". Shit happens they say. Now, i'm actually thinking about where my life is heading as opposed to where it could have been.
So i'm going to find me-self one of those job things, work for a few years, and then join the Indian School of Business.Talk about realising potential. There aren't going to be any compromises this time.
This insignificant little blog post is going to be witness to a very gratified event later on. Now here's my inspiration..
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
F1 India not on track?
The latest news doing rounds is that the Sports ministry has rejected the 'Basic idea' of the Indian Grand Prix in '11. Mr Gill, ( Not to be confused with Gill, the former president of IHF:P)
has said that Formula One is not a sport. Apparently, F1 is just 'expensive entertainment', as opposed to our National Game Hockey. Not like we're doing any good at it. With the so called 'revival' and all, things may change.
Coming back, seriously? Not a sport. So the battering of 4 plus G's that the drivers experience as well as the very simple 'matter' of staying fit enough to drive those cars (Rather Machines) doesn't qualify? I don't know what does. The truth of the matter is that it is the most expensive sport there is.
Here's a definition for cricket: 'You have two sides, one out in the field and one in. Each man that's in the side that's in goes out, and when he's out he comes in and the next man goes in until he's out. When they are all out, the side that's out comes in and the side that's been in goes out and tries to get those coming in, out. Sometimes you get men still in and not out.
When a man goes out to go in, the men who are out try to get him out, and when he is out he goes in and the next man in goes out and goes in. There are two men called umpires who stay all out all the time and they decide when the men who are in are out. When both sides have been in and all the men have out, and both sides have been out twice after all the men have been in, including those who are not out, that is the end of the game!' Does this even make sense?
So much for T20 and the IPL. Cricket is a religion, and F1 soon will be too!
I don't see how anyone stands to lose out on money. So what's the problem.
Will someone pay Gill his Bill? :)
Maybe Dr Mallya will.
has said that Formula One is not a sport. Apparently, F1 is just 'expensive entertainment', as opposed to our National Game Hockey. Not like we're doing any good at it. With the so called 'revival' and all, things may change.
Coming back, seriously? Not a sport. So the battering of 4 plus G's that the drivers experience as well as the very simple 'matter' of staying fit enough to drive those cars (Rather Machines) doesn't qualify? I don't know what does. The truth of the matter is that it is the most expensive sport there is.
Here's a definition for cricket: 'You have two sides, one out in the field and one in. Each man that's in the side that's in goes out, and when he's out he comes in and the next man goes in until he's out. When they are all out, the side that's out comes in and the side that's been in goes out and tries to get those coming in, out. Sometimes you get men still in and not out.
When a man goes out to go in, the men who are out try to get him out, and when he is out he goes in and the next man in goes out and goes in. There are two men called umpires who stay all out all the time and they decide when the men who are in are out. When both sides have been in and all the men have out, and both sides have been out twice after all the men have been in, including those who are not out, that is the end of the game!' Does this even make sense?
So much for T20 and the IPL. Cricket is a religion, and F1 soon will be too!
I don't see how anyone stands to lose out on money. So what's the problem.
Will someone pay Gill his Bill? :)
Maybe Dr Mallya will.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Random-3
- The latest awesome movie doing the rounds is Inglorious Basterds. Only One week post release and it's already sitting high up on the Imdb list. I haven't had the priviledge to watch it yet. Of course, i don't want to harbour any high expectations from it, but i don't want to be disappointed too. Sometimes, i wonder. Is this really the same ass of a man that makes magic on screen. I mean seriously, check this out. WTF!
- I miss the awesomeness that is Barney Stinson, and the hotness that is Robin Schrebotsky. I also miss Sheldon, The babe called Penny and the whole nerdy gang! I also miss Jay Leno and his spontaneity. I miss the way he says OMG! WTF! among other things. I'm not saying Conan is doing a bad job, but he's just not Leno is he?
- I'm damn sure I got Robin's sir-name wrong. I also don't quite care if the chick's name is Penny or nickel or dime or ana. What matters is she's hot! period.
- I hate the word period. I like using it at the end of a sentence though. (Please don't get any ideas:P). The question i most frequently ask in class is, 'How many periods left?' The entity i most often look at in class is my watch. Class is the only place where one really appreciates the theory of relativity.
- Everything is relative, my friend once said. The way you think, the way you perceive things, what you think is right or wrong, the way you look at life. The only "thought process" that drives people together is Money. It really is the only basis that Man can profusely use to claim he's close to immortality. I know i'm writing crap:p.
- The three best music albums of all time are: Pink Floyd- Dark side of the moon, Dire Straits- Sultans of swing, Iron Maiden- Number of the beast. Some more crap-
- The number 421 appears in some 1894 sequences, while most numbers that size appear in about 940 sequences. This seems to indicate that 421 is a particularly interesting number, but why? What’s so special about 421? Well, it’s prime (in fact, it’s a twin prime,additive prime,pythagorean prime, and irregular prime), it’s congruent to 1 mod 2,3,4, 5, 6,7, 10, 12, it’s the sum of five primes, and 4212 = 4202 + 292. Similarly, 512 appears in 2116 sequences even though most numbers around 512 appear in about 800 sequences. This is perhaps less surprising than 421, since 512 = 29 = 83 = 162 + 162 is a number that somehow seems “nice” due to it being a perfect power. Additionally, 512 is a Leyland number, Harshad number and it comes up in all sorts of counting problems.
- Ashok Leyland, Tata Sumo, Mahindra and Mahindra, Maruti Suzuki 800, Kinetic Honda. Blah blah.
- Kinetic energy recovery system. Formula one.
- Force India. India being represented on the World Stage.
- Shakespeare once said- All the World's a stage, and all the men and women merely players.
- Read the line below my blog title....
P:S- The whole point of this post is- I do write rubbish sometimes. I'm bored. Period. Damn I used period again..
Saturday, August 15, 2009
There are four people in the xerox shop doing the work that one is capable of handling. They work only when there is power, which is obvious. Power is a rarity these days. 'Unscheduled' load shedding the Electricity board say with such indifference. Sometimes, their phone isn't answered because the line is dead. From the looks of things, communication is impossible between 'concerned' electricity officials and the telephone exchange.
Next door is a 'paan' shop, where beedis are bought in large numbers. They're smoked like there's no tomorrow. There are wine shops on both sides of the road. Late in the night, after a "Hard" day's work, many a person can be seen drinking OMR outside these shops, and those who can't afford it settle for hooch. Soon they're so sloshed that most of them call it a day and settle into bed, which consists of the thin asphalt of the road. The beat police turn up later, and give them a few whacks. Meanwhile, their spouses are waiting at home, waiting for the money called 'salary' to pay for their kids' 'Government school' primary education. Those below the poverty line, don't even know what an education is, or can do.
The rain gods have failed farmers once again. They fail to reap any produce. Those that do, travel long distances to sell. Often they are disappointed with the prices, and so all is in vain. Tomatoes and onions are dumped in yards. Protests are held. Effigies are burnt.
A few Farmers commit suicide, unable to bear the 'burden' of supporting their families. Compensation is announced for the dead, as if to say his/her life can be equated to money.
Government jobs provide security in these turbulent times. An influential politician's son is promoted, where as the profile of an Civil services' officer, who has come up the hard way, with support from NGO's for his education and coaching, is shown the door.
The 'Assistant commissioner' of the divisional Corporation office, as he calls himself, has a few more assistants working under him. No one under him can question his authority. The irony is, he himself is an assistant to someone:p.
There is a H.P petrol bunk, one of many, that supposedly offers services through the night. Pay a visit after 11, and one will inadvertently find that those 'servicing' vehicles are snoring away. One Petrol bunk needs about ten people to run it. A separate guy to collect the cash.
The Urban Rural divide is unfathomable. Next door to the Radisson hotel under construction, one will find an 'un-official' vegetable market.
'Soil picking' is a proffesion. Child labour is payrolled. Children resort to sniffing Erazex for kicks.
A girl child is sold to a richer person, simply because she is a girl who cannot carry forward the 'family name'. It's atrocious to be associated with such a family.
Some would say it isn't, because IGNORANCE is bliss. Some faiths believe that a kid born is God's will. So they will continue to have children, until God decides they can't. Science is irrelevant in the simplest of issues.
Money equations are in, Truth and non violence was out long back. Gandhi took it with him to the grave.
Our population is our biggest strength. Sure, publish it in journals, magazines, papers. It is our biggest weakness. Democratic movement or not, who cares?
I'm just like any other Indian, voicing my concerns. I still am patriotic at heart.
But really, ask yourselves, Did India really gain independance on 15th August 1947?
Next door is a 'paan' shop, where beedis are bought in large numbers. They're smoked like there's no tomorrow. There are wine shops on both sides of the road. Late in the night, after a "Hard" day's work, many a person can be seen drinking OMR outside these shops, and those who can't afford it settle for hooch. Soon they're so sloshed that most of them call it a day and settle into bed, which consists of the thin asphalt of the road. The beat police turn up later, and give them a few whacks. Meanwhile, their spouses are waiting at home, waiting for the money called 'salary' to pay for their kids' 'Government school' primary education. Those below the poverty line, don't even know what an education is, or can do.
The rain gods have failed farmers once again. They fail to reap any produce. Those that do, travel long distances to sell. Often they are disappointed with the prices, and so all is in vain. Tomatoes and onions are dumped in yards. Protests are held. Effigies are burnt.
A few Farmers commit suicide, unable to bear the 'burden' of supporting their families. Compensation is announced for the dead, as if to say his/her life can be equated to money.
Government jobs provide security in these turbulent times. An influential politician's son is promoted, where as the profile of an Civil services' officer, who has come up the hard way, with support from NGO's for his education and coaching, is shown the door.
The 'Assistant commissioner' of the divisional Corporation office, as he calls himself, has a few more assistants working under him. No one under him can question his authority. The irony is, he himself is an assistant to someone:p.
There is a H.P petrol bunk, one of many, that supposedly offers services through the night. Pay a visit after 11, and one will inadvertently find that those 'servicing' vehicles are snoring away. One Petrol bunk needs about ten people to run it. A separate guy to collect the cash.
The Urban Rural divide is unfathomable. Next door to the Radisson hotel under construction, one will find an 'un-official' vegetable market.
'Soil picking' is a proffesion. Child labour is payrolled. Children resort to sniffing Erazex for kicks.
A girl child is sold to a richer person, simply because she is a girl who cannot carry forward the 'family name'. It's atrocious to be associated with such a family.
Some would say it isn't, because IGNORANCE is bliss. Some faiths believe that a kid born is God's will. So they will continue to have children, until God decides they can't. Science is irrelevant in the simplest of issues.
Money equations are in, Truth and non violence was out long back. Gandhi took it with him to the grave.
Our population is our biggest strength. Sure, publish it in journals, magazines, papers. It is our biggest weakness. Democratic movement or not, who cares?
I'm just like any other Indian, voicing my concerns. I still am patriotic at heart.
But really, ask yourselves, Did India really gain independance on 15th August 1947?
Friday, July 31, 2009
Tennis it is!
I would say that the only sport that even compares with Tennis, let alone even be close to it, would be football. Sure, you've All american sports which Americans play and are crazy about. Baseball may have a huge fan base. American football may be very widely broadcasted, with Superbowls and what not. All these sports have their representation at the college level.
Badminton is the fastest game in terms of the equipment used for play, with serves striking the 300kmph mark. It's hard to fathom how one could even 'perceive'(register) a shuttle cock travelling that fast and next thing you know, you missed the return in the blink of an eye:P. I've played Badminton a long time ago. I can safely say it is a game of subtleties. One must be able to move his ass, and fast! Although it does not seem like the player is covering any ground, believe me some serious adrenalin is pumping, and hard!
Athletics does not fail to capture. Usain Bolt and his golden boot. His world record setting run at the biggest stage. Contenders we thought them to be. But Gay and Powel were wiped out with glee! Isinbaveya's feat deserves mention. I seriously cannot stomach the training that goes into those hips and legs. What's even more staggering is the ease with which she clears 5 m perpetually. Boxing and Ali. Fraser. Tyson and his gimmicks. But he always got the job done.
Golf and Formula one. Big money. Big sponsors. Tiger Woods is probably the most recognisable sportsman in the west. But here in India, i'm sure he is mostly unknown. Cricket is a religion here. Sure it has history.
History, one of the parameters necessary to gauge a sport and the "Aura" about it. When East Bengal and Mohun Bagan play their derby in Salt Lake, celebrations are in order in the form of Hilsa and prawns! Ronaldo's big move to Real. Big money. His skills are second only to Messi. A neutral always roots for the weaker team. Who wouldn't remember Gerrards Heroics in 2005 when the tables were turned. That unbelievable strike from that far, always curling away, yet finding the back of the net. Germany in the Semi finals of the '06 W.C. Dreams were shattered. It meant so much to Ballack. The emotions. The reckoning.
The reason Tennis is above the rest is simply the Zeal of the game. If one were to watch the fantastic movie 'Match Point', he'd realise the importance of a service let, or the ball catching the tape and falling on the other side.
Two faces of a coin. Both have equal chances of being 'called'. The net chord could be a saviour or it could kill. History is in tennis.Fred Perry,Rod Laver, Borg, Sampras and now Federer. Nadal vs Fed. The greatest rivalry there is.
The only thing about Tennis, that puts it way above the league of other sports, is that we're not actually rooting for a tennis player, wanting him to win. We actually are him. Literally and figuratively.
And, the greates thing is, I'd rather say Nadal won, than say Federer lost!
Badminton is the fastest game in terms of the equipment used for play, with serves striking the 300kmph mark. It's hard to fathom how one could even 'perceive'(register) a shuttle cock travelling that fast and next thing you know, you missed the return in the blink of an eye:P. I've played Badminton a long time ago. I can safely say it is a game of subtleties. One must be able to move his ass, and fast! Although it does not seem like the player is covering any ground, believe me some serious adrenalin is pumping, and hard!
Athletics does not fail to capture. Usain Bolt and his golden boot. His world record setting run at the biggest stage. Contenders we thought them to be. But Gay and Powel were wiped out with glee! Isinbaveya's feat deserves mention. I seriously cannot stomach the training that goes into those hips and legs. What's even more staggering is the ease with which she clears 5 m perpetually. Boxing and Ali. Fraser. Tyson and his gimmicks. But he always got the job done.
Golf and Formula one. Big money. Big sponsors. Tiger Woods is probably the most recognisable sportsman in the west. But here in India, i'm sure he is mostly unknown. Cricket is a religion here. Sure it has history.
History, one of the parameters necessary to gauge a sport and the "Aura" about it. When East Bengal and Mohun Bagan play their derby in Salt Lake, celebrations are in order in the form of Hilsa and prawns! Ronaldo's big move to Real. Big money. His skills are second only to Messi. A neutral always roots for the weaker team. Who wouldn't remember Gerrards Heroics in 2005 when the tables were turned. That unbelievable strike from that far, always curling away, yet finding the back of the net. Germany in the Semi finals of the '06 W.C. Dreams were shattered. It meant so much to Ballack. The emotions. The reckoning.
The reason Tennis is above the rest is simply the Zeal of the game. If one were to watch the fantastic movie 'Match Point', he'd realise the importance of a service let, or the ball catching the tape and falling on the other side.
Two faces of a coin. Both have equal chances of being 'called'. The net chord could be a saviour or it could kill. History is in tennis.Fred Perry,Rod Laver, Borg, Sampras and now Federer. Nadal vs Fed. The greatest rivalry there is.
The only thing about Tennis, that puts it way above the league of other sports, is that we're not actually rooting for a tennis player, wanting him to win. We actually are him. Literally and figuratively.
And, the greates thing is, I'd rather say Nadal won, than say Federer lost!
Friday, July 10, 2009
Peas in a pod.
All was set for take off. Traffic control had given him the go ahead, and he was number two on the runaway. His co-pilot John then checked the suction gauge, transponder, fuel gauge and Radio. Check. All was well. They were ready to hit the skies.
Three minutes later, they received clearance from ATC.
This was nothing new to Captain Ochim or his co-pilot. Oc having trained in the finest flying school in Britain. He had the distinction of doing sorties with R.A.F personnel. He was a mighty proud man. His Dedication was legendary. In flying circles, he was known as the Hawk-eye. The precision and control with which he 'tamed' his machines in the air, was often the talk for hours together in parties which he often graced with his lovely wife and kids.Oc was content with what he had. Life wasn't easy. He used to work two shifts in a Public Library to make ends meet. And yet, he barely managed. Flying School was where he was headed. Pilot he was destined to be.
Ten years later, he had done it all. He made good money. Decent enough to make his wife and kids happy. He was a content man, siphoning happiness from the smaller things in life. After a hard day's work, he'd just want to watch a movie with the kids, a cold beer by his side. Flying and family. The two things that mattered the most to Oc. He couldn't be away from his Family for long. But his hands would itch if he wasn't behind the controls of a Plane for long. Two peas in a pod.
Another routine flight. Today, he was testing a cessna for a friend. The plan was to fly over the desert for a few hours. Test the plane for possible flaws.
John hit the primer and master switch. Oc pushed the throttle. The engine roared into life. The wheels were set into motion. Slowly gathering momentum, The plane hit the take-off threshold a few hundred metres from the end of the tarmac. Thousand feet above the ground, they made a sharp left, and drifted towards the Great Canyon, into the setting sun...
Twenty minutes into the flight, John made a routine check on all functions. They were talking about having some nice meat later for dinner. Little did they know that they were going to be 'meat'. Without warning, the propeller gave away, and they were headed in a spiral downwards. All was lost. They hit rock bottom. John was dead. Oc had lost all senses waist downwards.
Oc awoke with a start, hoping it was all just a blurry dream. One that didn't mean anything.
Instead, he awoke to the worst possible palpability. Sometimes there is only one pea in a pod, he realised, as his wife Lily set down a glass of juice on his table, and wiped away the salty tears from his rough cheeks.
Three minutes later, they received clearance from ATC.
This was nothing new to Captain Ochim or his co-pilot. Oc having trained in the finest flying school in Britain. He had the distinction of doing sorties with R.A.F personnel. He was a mighty proud man. His Dedication was legendary. In flying circles, he was known as the Hawk-eye. The precision and control with which he 'tamed' his machines in the air, was often the talk for hours together in parties which he often graced with his lovely wife and kids.Oc was content with what he had. Life wasn't easy. He used to work two shifts in a Public Library to make ends meet. And yet, he barely managed. Flying School was where he was headed. Pilot he was destined to be.
Ten years later, he had done it all. He made good money. Decent enough to make his wife and kids happy. He was a content man, siphoning happiness from the smaller things in life. After a hard day's work, he'd just want to watch a movie with the kids, a cold beer by his side. Flying and family. The two things that mattered the most to Oc. He couldn't be away from his Family for long. But his hands would itch if he wasn't behind the controls of a Plane for long. Two peas in a pod.
Another routine flight. Today, he was testing a cessna for a friend. The plan was to fly over the desert for a few hours. Test the plane for possible flaws.
John hit the primer and master switch. Oc pushed the throttle. The engine roared into life. The wheels were set into motion. Slowly gathering momentum, The plane hit the take-off threshold a few hundred metres from the end of the tarmac. Thousand feet above the ground, they made a sharp left, and drifted towards the Great Canyon, into the setting sun...
Twenty minutes into the flight, John made a routine check on all functions. They were talking about having some nice meat later for dinner. Little did they know that they were going to be 'meat'. Without warning, the propeller gave away, and they were headed in a spiral downwards. All was lost. They hit rock bottom. John was dead. Oc had lost all senses waist downwards.
Oc awoke with a start, hoping it was all just a blurry dream. One that didn't mean anything.
Instead, he awoke to the worst possible palpability. Sometimes there is only one pea in a pod, he realised, as his wife Lily set down a glass of juice on his table, and wiped away the salty tears from his rough cheeks.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Perversion= no aversion
It's raining now. It seems as though the screeching of crows is a warning to fellow mates.
It also seems as though they don't mind getting wet. Puddles are collecting. Seas are growing into oceans. All have one common goal. Move in all directions possible. Penetrate untouched soil. Reach the deepest roots.
Meanwhile, the trees are swaying in the wind. Almost dancing to its tunes. The mud on the ground grows darker in colour.
A warning to us about how dark things could get with darker shades of darkness in the sky.
A hot auntie is standing in front of me now. The skin on her back is radiant (or should i say 'the back on that skin'?:p). Her body reminds me of a coke bottle. Now i realise that i don't give a rat's ass about the rain or it's essence. The picture in front of me is more soothing those damned rain drops. Suddenly there's a rattle. This thing we call thunder.
I'm brought back to reality...
It also seems as though they don't mind getting wet. Puddles are collecting. Seas are growing into oceans. All have one common goal. Move in all directions possible. Penetrate untouched soil. Reach the deepest roots.
Meanwhile, the trees are swaying in the wind. Almost dancing to its tunes. The mud on the ground grows darker in colour.
A warning to us about how dark things could get with darker shades of darkness in the sky.
A hot auntie is standing in front of me now. The skin on her back is radiant (or should i say 'the back on that skin'?:p). Her body reminds me of a coke bottle. Now i realise that i don't give a rat's ass about the rain or it's essence. The picture in front of me is more soothing those damned rain drops. Suddenly there's a rattle. This thing we call thunder.
I'm brought back to reality...
Friday, June 12, 2009
Probability and chance
How would you feel if you were at the receiving end of a highly improbable event. If you were to leave everything to chance, and hope against all odds that the outcome is favourable.
You think you have everything under control, but somewhere you also know that shit can happen. We have Murphy's law as an old adage. (or a friggin law itself).
It's all going well for you. Life is good. There are no complications. You make decisions.
Some are favourable and some aren't. One always trusts his instincts while making dicey choices.
If one leaves everything to chance, eventually life evens out. But if you really think about all angles involved, pros and cons, yet you're sure nothing will go wrong, you'll get fucked hard.
An improbable event doesn't imply an impossible event:)
So i took a chance today. Microprocessor lab. Ten in a batch, and apparently three chits had matrix multiplication, with 80 lines of pointless code. I went in, and followed my instincts.
I had already decided that i was going to pick up the third chit. But what i hadn't decided was whether i was to take the 3rd chit from the right or the left.
Something told me to take the one 3rd from the right. Woila. Easy code. I later found out that the guy who picked the 3rd chit from the left was working on matrices:)
So is it safe to say that God saved my ass?
Now i'm even more fascinated with "chance", for, if i had picked the other chit, i sure as hell would not be writing this.
You think you have everything under control, but somewhere you also know that shit can happen. We have Murphy's law as an old adage. (or a friggin law itself).
It's all going well for you. Life is good. There are no complications. You make decisions.
Some are favourable and some aren't. One always trusts his instincts while making dicey choices.
If one leaves everything to chance, eventually life evens out. But if you really think about all angles involved, pros and cons, yet you're sure nothing will go wrong, you'll get fucked hard.
An improbable event doesn't imply an impossible event:)
So i took a chance today. Microprocessor lab. Ten in a batch, and apparently three chits had matrix multiplication, with 80 lines of pointless code. I went in, and followed my instincts.
I had already decided that i was going to pick up the third chit. But what i hadn't decided was whether i was to take the 3rd chit from the right or the left.
Something told me to take the one 3rd from the right. Woila. Easy code. I later found out that the guy who picked the 3rd chit from the left was working on matrices:)
So is it safe to say that God saved my ass?
Now i'm even more fascinated with "chance", for, if i had picked the other chit, i sure as hell would not be writing this.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Brown pants and a cream shirt
When i'd get up, he'd already be up. I would then get ready for school, while he read the morning papers. He'd leave for work after i left for school. His pant and shirt neatly pressed, and not one day would he leave for work without his pen in his shirt pocket.
He'd come down from work for lunch. We wouldn't talk much. He would then quickly finish lunch, and i would sometimes sit for an hour or so, attempting to finish my meal.
He would then proceed to bed for a quick nap. 2 to 2:30. Then a banana or two, and work again.
Time Management.
In the evenings, when i was out playing and my mother busy indulging in the age old gossip with her friends, i would see a figure from a distance. I'd wait as it slowly approached, and then realising it was appa, i'd never fail to hide my excitement. I'd almost beg with him to play cricket with us. Often he would seem fidgety and angry. But i would always hide my disappointment.
He obviously was tired from all the work.
Hard work.
After his evening tea, he would leave for the 'Gedung-olah-raga' (Badminton court) for a game or too. I would trot along. Sometimes he'd play with me, after his daily quota with the 'seniors'. I would always screw up the subtleties, trying to smash the shuttle cock every single time:-)
Often, appa used to lose a game or two. He'd cry out in frustration. ' Thath Therike' he'd scream out. I would often laugh at this. But later i realised that losing a game of Badminton doesn't mean the end of things.
Be sportive.
During weekdays, we'd go to bed by 8. He would tell us stories about how things were back in India. In early 88, his friend told him that there was an opening in Indonesia. He just grabbed it. Little did he care about going out of the box, or the unstable environment in Indonesia back then, with the dictatorship and communal violence. But yet he went.
Taking risks.
Sometimes even during the night, after 10 or so, a worker would ring the bell. He'd then say that there was a 'masala' in the factory. Appa would do little to hide his anger. He'd quickly put on his brown pant and cream shirt and leave. Sometimes we would follow on our bicycles. Sometimes, we'd wait for more than an hour for him to get back. Sometimes, his whole day revolved around that 'Uniform'. Sometimes, he was called even on Important holidays like Id-ul-fitri. Important, because these holidays were his only free days.
Life's a bitch sometimes.
In the night, after dinner, Dad would watch sun tv. Vivek never failed to amuse him. He'd often laugh until he cried. My sister and myself would often stare in awe, asking amma jokingly if his tears masked his laughter:P. My mother would simply shrug her shoulders. He would then ask me to go fetch him a Bud. Of course, he did offer me some when mom was looking elsewhere.
Have a beer occasionally:-)
One thing he would always do, amidst this chaos of balancing work and life, was make sure we had our fun. Every Friday, and i mean every Friday, he would take us into the city. He always bought me what i wanted. Whenever i sensed a disapproval, i wouldn't care to argue. The last time i visited Indonesia was the time he decided to leave. The company presented him with a Crystal ship, symbolic of his wonderful journey. He commanded Respect in every nook and corner.
A few days back, i was looking through his Cupboard for a shirt. In a dusty corner, there it lay.
The pant pockets carry virtues and values one has to understand in this journey of life. The breast pocket still carries respect. They still lie there. Unperturbed.
P.S-No relation to the above post: I lost my entire Ingmar Bergman collection:(
He'd come down from work for lunch. We wouldn't talk much. He would then quickly finish lunch, and i would sometimes sit for an hour or so, attempting to finish my meal.
He would then proceed to bed for a quick nap. 2 to 2:30. Then a banana or two, and work again.
Time Management.
In the evenings, when i was out playing and my mother busy indulging in the age old gossip with her friends, i would see a figure from a distance. I'd wait as it slowly approached, and then realising it was appa, i'd never fail to hide my excitement. I'd almost beg with him to play cricket with us. Often he would seem fidgety and angry. But i would always hide my disappointment.
He obviously was tired from all the work.
Hard work.
After his evening tea, he would leave for the 'Gedung-olah-raga' (Badminton court) for a game or too. I would trot along. Sometimes he'd play with me, after his daily quota with the 'seniors'. I would always screw up the subtleties, trying to smash the shuttle cock every single time:-)
Often, appa used to lose a game or two. He'd cry out in frustration. ' Thath Therike' he'd scream out. I would often laugh at this. But later i realised that losing a game of Badminton doesn't mean the end of things.
Be sportive.
During weekdays, we'd go to bed by 8. He would tell us stories about how things were back in India. In early 88, his friend told him that there was an opening in Indonesia. He just grabbed it. Little did he care about going out of the box, or the unstable environment in Indonesia back then, with the dictatorship and communal violence. But yet he went.
Taking risks.
Sometimes even during the night, after 10 or so, a worker would ring the bell. He'd then say that there was a 'masala' in the factory. Appa would do little to hide his anger. He'd quickly put on his brown pant and cream shirt and leave. Sometimes we would follow on our bicycles. Sometimes, we'd wait for more than an hour for him to get back. Sometimes, his whole day revolved around that 'Uniform'. Sometimes, he was called even on Important holidays like Id-ul-fitri. Important, because these holidays were his only free days.
Life's a bitch sometimes.
In the night, after dinner, Dad would watch sun tv. Vivek never failed to amuse him. He'd often laugh until he cried. My sister and myself would often stare in awe, asking amma jokingly if his tears masked his laughter:P. My mother would simply shrug her shoulders. He would then ask me to go fetch him a Bud. Of course, he did offer me some when mom was looking elsewhere.
Have a beer occasionally:-)
One thing he would always do, amidst this chaos of balancing work and life, was make sure we had our fun. Every Friday, and i mean every Friday, he would take us into the city. He always bought me what i wanted. Whenever i sensed a disapproval, i wouldn't care to argue. The last time i visited Indonesia was the time he decided to leave. The company presented him with a Crystal ship, symbolic of his wonderful journey. He commanded Respect in every nook and corner.
A few days back, i was looking through his Cupboard for a shirt. In a dusty corner, there it lay.
The pant pockets carry virtues and values one has to understand in this journey of life. The breast pocket still carries respect. They still lie there. Unperturbed.
P.S-No relation to the above post: I lost my entire Ingmar Bergman collection:(
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Rain
The eagle was in heedless flight
meandering about in circles.
No sense of direction i thought
I only admired it's vigor.
meandering about in circles.
No sense of direction i thought
I only admired it's vigor.
It's flight was quite a sight,
as it weathered the torrent of rain.
From the bench where i was rooted,
I saw a dark figure in the grey sky.
Soon the darkness grew in size
I felt that it was headed towards me.
But the rain helped me gather myself
And i exuded a coherent calmness.
The darkness and rain converged,
The eagle rested beside me.
For a moment, a difficult oneness
One i couldn't even value.
The eagle took off without a trace
And the rain reduced to a drizzle.
Is there ever a conjunt place
For heart, mind and a destiny.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Of casteism, power and lateral thinking!
Casteism- Discrimination and what not. We've seen or heard of it in the Ancient Greek society, the medieval ages, and in lands far and wide. In India, we've been discriminating human beings for several centuries now. Even to this day, a scholar is more respected than a daily wage worker. A man with money, power, or fame is a "Bhai". He is almost worshipped.
Even a politician, an M.P for instance, has luxury written all over him. The common man elects him for a purpose, yet he misuses his powers. He flies in Business class, like there's no tomorrow, Uses money like he actually made it, He is the real untouchable literally...
Who decided that a "Shudra" should pick up soil (i don't fancy using shit here!), while the Brahmins should stay away and ridicule him. The poor man committed a crime. He was born into what he now does, and this cannot be changed. Who is to judge whether or not this soil and rag picker, can actually live a life in the midst of his superiors, without being ridiculed just because his parents and grandparents were tagged with Inferiority. But this is how society has grown, it is merely a farce now. His parents were ridiculed, and so will he. For he doesn't have power to ask questions.
I say it's all in the mind.
One fine day, a man with power raised questions. And so, now these outcasts have rights. They can ask the very questions that a man with power can. This "power" manifests itself in the form of reservation. However unfair it may seem to me (being a Brahmin and all), i cannot do anything about it. I don't have the power. Sure i may argue that Arjun Singh is a retard and stuff, and that reservation is absurd an idea, for i believe that Our Country is secular. It was written in the darn constitution.
One thing i don't understand is why students falling under reservation, get 'discount' in college fees in our University. It is so absurd. It's not like they're still ridiculed even now, that they deserve special treatment just because their ancestors were downtrodden.
In that case, Why don't Jews have a free Israel, solely because their ancestors were slaughtered in concentration camps. It just doesn't work that way.
Ultimately, it all comes down to your status in society. If one has power, he can solicit an outcry.
Society has never been bound by restrictions. It has always circled around Money. If one has Money and Power, he can change history.
This kind of Horizontal thinking may be vertical thinking to someone else, and vice versa. If one can think laterally, and start asking questions, maybe the whole outlook may change. I'm saying maybe...
For now, society is what you think it to be. That's all there is to it.
Even a politician, an M.P for instance, has luxury written all over him. The common man elects him for a purpose, yet he misuses his powers. He flies in Business class, like there's no tomorrow, Uses money like he actually made it, He is the real untouchable literally...
Who decided that a "Shudra" should pick up soil (i don't fancy using shit here!), while the Brahmins should stay away and ridicule him. The poor man committed a crime. He was born into what he now does, and this cannot be changed. Who is to judge whether or not this soil and rag picker, can actually live a life in the midst of his superiors, without being ridiculed just because his parents and grandparents were tagged with Inferiority. But this is how society has grown, it is merely a farce now. His parents were ridiculed, and so will he. For he doesn't have power to ask questions.
I say it's all in the mind.
One fine day, a man with power raised questions. And so, now these outcasts have rights. They can ask the very questions that a man with power can. This "power" manifests itself in the form of reservation. However unfair it may seem to me (being a Brahmin and all), i cannot do anything about it. I don't have the power. Sure i may argue that Arjun Singh is a retard and stuff, and that reservation is absurd an idea, for i believe that Our Country is secular. It was written in the darn constitution.
One thing i don't understand is why students falling under reservation, get 'discount' in college fees in our University. It is so absurd. It's not like they're still ridiculed even now, that they deserve special treatment just because their ancestors were downtrodden.
In that case, Why don't Jews have a free Israel, solely because their ancestors were slaughtered in concentration camps. It just doesn't work that way.
Ultimately, it all comes down to your status in society. If one has power, he can solicit an outcry.
Society has never been bound by restrictions. It has always circled around Money. If one has Money and Power, he can change history.
This kind of Horizontal thinking may be vertical thinking to someone else, and vice versa. If one can think laterally, and start asking questions, maybe the whole outlook may change. I'm saying maybe...
For now, society is what you think it to be. That's all there is to it.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Random-2
- What's the whole deal with this Roadies down under thingy. Apparently it's very important to my sister. From the looks of things, she was more tensed about who's going to win than she probably was when giving her boards. And now that she knows, it's going to change her life forever.
- This reminds me, Isn't MTV short for music television? It's been ages since i heard a decent song playing. MTV generation my arse.
- I don't fancy ultra cool low waist jeans. Maybe it has something to do with this
- I just learnt how to post a link on a blog post:)
- Eminem's new album is out in May. Don't buy it. He probably would have cursed his girlfriend and mom again.
- My current favourite song is Paul Mauriat- Love is blue
- I watched Yes!man yesterday. Wondered for a while why Jim Carrey is so lame.
- Which reminds me, I want to watch The number 23 asap.
- I've only watched 79 of the movies listed in the IMDB 250 list. It took me 4 minutes to figure this out. It's hard to fathom how slumdog millionaire is in that list. Rahman's work is good, but ze movie sucks.
- The Oscars are full of crap. Gran Torino and Dark Knight were not even nominated. This evoked a this.
- Soon the Panda and the Koala bear will be extinct. And we'll have only ourselves to blaim.
- I just spelt blame the wrong way.
- I always thought WWF was World Wrestling Federation.
- Heineken is the best beer i've ever had. I've only had like 30 ml but the crispness is Awe-wait for it- sum.
- I love How I met your mother. Barney Stinson compares with Charlie Harper. They're both good at what they do:)
- It's been a while since i since i flirted with a girl. I must say I've forgotten the art.
- I can't believe i just said flirting is an art.
- My current favourite movie quote is ' Did you notice a sign out in front of my house that said Dead Nigger Storage?' from Pulp Fiction
- I had to watch Pulp Fiction twice to actually like it. Tarantino is a weird ass nigger hehe.
- My mom is calling out for dinner. Sometimes she can get as irritating as Wolowitz's mom from The Big Bang theory.:P
- I don't know if it's Wolowitz' mom or Wolowitz's mom. Z and S sound similar here.
- One still can't say with an uncertainity of zero that the big bang triggered our expanding universe.
- 0 is an even number. It is a multiple of 2, it is evenly divisible by 2, it is surrounded on both sides by odd integers, and it is the sum of an integer with itself.
- And now, I shall surely leave. Adios.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Then and now
THEN
Get to bed at 8 sharp. Put that white religious powder on your forehead, in order to keep them scary monsters away. Next morning, mom is helping you brush your teeth, she then lovingly tells you to drink milk. Spill the milk because you're still sleepy and you just dreamt that you already finished milk, had a bath and was ready for school. Say 'I love you' to your mom, Kiss her goodbye and hop on the van to school. Ah, you love school. It's not simple, yet it's not complicated. Play bull-run with everyone in the break. Make friends. Keep them.
Back in class,where your teacher is your friend. You respect him. You adore him. Home work.
You say oh why, yet you never fail to complete it. Waiting, loitering. Waiting for the darn bell to ring. Race your friends to the van. Eat ice-cream. Eat junk. Sing songs. Play games.
Ride your bicycles in circles. Make imaginary friends. Have friends who are girls. Converse with them with no awkward silences. Watch cartoon network. Wonder why your parents read the newspaper.
Be perplexed at the sight of skyscrapers and shopping "malls". Have no idea what "science" really is, and what it has done for mankind. Not even care. Stare at the night sky in awe. Not knowing that the ozone layer is a farce. Not caring for sun tan and harmful U.V rays. Not knowing our future, not even caring to know.
Live life like there's no tomorrow...
NOW
Sleep only when you're relaxed. Perpetually dream, both literally and figuratively. Pray to God in times of trouble. Question his existence in the most iffy situations. Read about ghosts, black magic, yin-yang, war and peace. Look at a matter from multiple angles, even when the answer is right there! Marvel at the creation of the universe. How we evolved from those crazy little chimps. Why are we so "complex"?.
Make your own milk, Set your own alarm on. You miss class? Deal with it. Sure, you love your mom. You just don't tell her anymore. Some things needn't be said. Seeing things is different from believing things. Did we ever have this angle when we were kids. Make new friends. Lose touch with old ones. Bitch about people because it's the new norm. Don't have friends who are girls, for they contribute to awkward silences:) Live in this mtv generation cliche. Always wonder why. Always condemn what the heart has to say. Reminisce about the past, but deal with the complicated future.
Life life for there is a tomorrow...
Deal with it. Life is a lesson. You learn it when you are through.
Get to bed at 8 sharp. Put that white religious powder on your forehead, in order to keep them scary monsters away. Next morning, mom is helping you brush your teeth, she then lovingly tells you to drink milk. Spill the milk because you're still sleepy and you just dreamt that you already finished milk, had a bath and was ready for school. Say 'I love you' to your mom, Kiss her goodbye and hop on the van to school. Ah, you love school. It's not simple, yet it's not complicated. Play bull-run with everyone in the break. Make friends. Keep them.
Back in class,where your teacher is your friend. You respect him. You adore him. Home work.
You say oh why, yet you never fail to complete it. Waiting, loitering. Waiting for the darn bell to ring. Race your friends to the van. Eat ice-cream. Eat junk. Sing songs. Play games.
Ride your bicycles in circles. Make imaginary friends. Have friends who are girls. Converse with them with no awkward silences. Watch cartoon network. Wonder why your parents read the newspaper.
Be perplexed at the sight of skyscrapers and shopping "malls". Have no idea what "science" really is, and what it has done for mankind. Not even care. Stare at the night sky in awe. Not knowing that the ozone layer is a farce. Not caring for sun tan and harmful U.V rays. Not knowing our future, not even caring to know.
Live life like there's no tomorrow...
NOW
Sleep only when you're relaxed. Perpetually dream, both literally and figuratively. Pray to God in times of trouble. Question his existence in the most iffy situations. Read about ghosts, black magic, yin-yang, war and peace. Look at a matter from multiple angles, even when the answer is right there! Marvel at the creation of the universe. How we evolved from those crazy little chimps. Why are we so "complex"?.
Make your own milk, Set your own alarm on. You miss class? Deal with it. Sure, you love your mom. You just don't tell her anymore. Some things needn't be said. Seeing things is different from believing things. Did we ever have this angle when we were kids. Make new friends. Lose touch with old ones. Bitch about people because it's the new norm. Don't have friends who are girls, for they contribute to awkward silences:) Live in this mtv generation cliche. Always wonder why. Always condemn what the heart has to say. Reminisce about the past, but deal with the complicated future.
Life life for there is a tomorrow...
Deal with it. Life is a lesson. You learn it when you are through.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
smoking aces
This was way back. I'd say like 10 years back. It was summer(or winter or spring, doesn't really matter). It was late in the afternoon (Maybe six odd, getting a tad dark, a cool breeze, doesn't really matter). Maybe it was the weather.
That cool tropical breeze that never fails to relax you. The kind of evening you never won't to forget (doesn't really matter). We were a bunch of no nonsense kids, doing our thing. Our mothers were enjoying their evening walk. We were enjoying our evening talk:). Okay here's the thing.
That evening was probably the most memorable evening of my priceless life till date. Memorable for only one reason. But highly uneventful. For on that day, i decided that i was never going to smoke ever. There was absolutely nothing that convinced me though. Me friend and me were just chatting away, we were munching on those chocolate rolls that are shaped like cigars.
So then He asks me, Are you going to smoke cigarettes in the future? All I said was no. I made a mental note of this. So very insignificant. Yet so very strong. It was something to do with the wind i'm dead sure. The calming effect it had on me. The only factor of the evening perhaps. I didn't know back then, that i would be so loyal to my otherwise doomed mind. Ten years on, and i haven't even been tempted to puff even once...Ten years from now, i'm sure that doomed cigarette will still elude me. Smoking is injurious to health. Its written on the frigging box. Yet people don't understand. It was the wind, i'm sure it was. The kind of tropical wind that restores a sense of nonchalance.
That cool tropical breeze that never fails to relax you. The kind of evening you never won't to forget (doesn't really matter). We were a bunch of no nonsense kids, doing our thing. Our mothers were enjoying their evening walk. We were enjoying our evening talk:). Okay here's the thing.
That evening was probably the most memorable evening of my priceless life till date. Memorable for only one reason. But highly uneventful. For on that day, i decided that i was never going to smoke ever. There was absolutely nothing that convinced me though. Me friend and me were just chatting away, we were munching on those chocolate rolls that are shaped like cigars.
So then He asks me, Are you going to smoke cigarettes in the future? All I said was no. I made a mental note of this. So very insignificant. Yet so very strong. It was something to do with the wind i'm dead sure. The calming effect it had on me. The only factor of the evening perhaps. I didn't know back then, that i would be so loyal to my otherwise doomed mind. Ten years on, and i haven't even been tempted to puff even once...Ten years from now, i'm sure that doomed cigarette will still elude me. Smoking is injurious to health. Its written on the frigging box. Yet people don't understand. It was the wind, i'm sure it was. The kind of tropical wind that restores a sense of nonchalance.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Of love and life
Remember the time you were a priority in someone's life? Those were the days when you thought you had security. Some kind of safety blanket that actually is no more than a thin bedspread.
Daydreaming. Smiling to yourself. Messaging and calling. Saying those complicated love words without actually having any idea what they mean. Spending nights staring at the ceiling. Wondering how it would be if you could hold her through the night, wondering how gleeful you'd be to wake up beside her, to smell her hair and hear her breathe. Yes these are all illusions now.
One would associate this blanket with "love" (cliched love). I'm saying this because Love is not what it actually is, unless it is an emotion of the heart.
There is a thin line. For nothing is permanent. Things change fast. Suddenly you're not a priority anymore.
Suddenly ignorance is bliss. Ego is imperative. People change they say. I say it's a manifestation of what we would like to hear, for all we're hoping for at this stage is some kind of consolation. It's a hard thing for one to move from being a somebody to someone to being a nobody. But the nail on the coffin is when they say- "lets be friends" as if to say that friendship heals faster than time. Being there for each other without actually being there. But why can't one transit between these
two phases? From not being able to get their minds off someone to "just being there".
The answer is simple. One is perpetually in the "aura" of security, believing that things cannot get any better. And so things cannot get any worse too. Until it all comes crashing down.
This security we call love is thin.
A stray cigarette butt can burn down a whole forest. The result is an en masse of destruction. Flora and Fauna all dead duck. It's the same with priority. The result is a broken heart and tears.
Sure, one feels guilty and ponders on what could've been done differently, but ultimately, ego is never deflated...
And this is the best part. From personal experience-When one doesn't give a flying fuck about the past, he can appreciate the simple things in life. He can live in the moment and seize it.
The starry nights, the morning sun, the oblivious clouds, the winding roads, the hills in the distance, CHICKS, and the annoying beat police outside the frigging window, add more spice to life. These things have more meaning now!
Daydreaming. Smiling to yourself. Messaging and calling. Saying those complicated love words without actually having any idea what they mean. Spending nights staring at the ceiling. Wondering how it would be if you could hold her through the night, wondering how gleeful you'd be to wake up beside her, to smell her hair and hear her breathe. Yes these are all illusions now.
One would associate this blanket with "love" (cliched love). I'm saying this because Love is not what it actually is, unless it is an emotion of the heart.
There is a thin line. For nothing is permanent. Things change fast. Suddenly you're not a priority anymore.
Suddenly ignorance is bliss. Ego is imperative. People change they say. I say it's a manifestation of what we would like to hear, for all we're hoping for at this stage is some kind of consolation. It's a hard thing for one to move from being a somebody to someone to being a nobody. But the nail on the coffin is when they say- "lets be friends" as if to say that friendship heals faster than time. Being there for each other without actually being there. But why can't one transit between these
two phases? From not being able to get their minds off someone to "just being there".
The answer is simple. One is perpetually in the "aura" of security, believing that things cannot get any better. And so things cannot get any worse too. Until it all comes crashing down.
This security we call love is thin.
A stray cigarette butt can burn down a whole forest. The result is an en masse of destruction. Flora and Fauna all dead duck. It's the same with priority. The result is a broken heart and tears.
Sure, one feels guilty and ponders on what could've been done differently, but ultimately, ego is never deflated...
And this is the best part. From personal experience-When one doesn't give a flying fuck about the past, he can appreciate the simple things in life. He can live in the moment and seize it.
The starry nights, the morning sun, the oblivious clouds, the winding roads, the hills in the distance, CHICKS, and the annoying beat police outside the frigging window, add more spice to life. These things have more meaning now!
Monday, April 6, 2009
KMACYOYO
This translates to-- kiss my ass colonel you're on your own:) Hilarious man. If an Army guy wants to vent anger on his superior, He can use this portal and the above title. I've the copyrights!
Monday, March 30, 2009
The unknown soldier
He awakes to deafening gunfire
Rattled he always is.
Circumstances are often dire
What good to yearn for a kiss.
Mud water passes as soup
He gulps it down with disregard.
War has trapped him in a coop
His family has been hit hard.
The battlefield is now his home
And war is an excuse to fight.
He's never used his pocket comb
For there isn't a mirror in sight.
He crawls through the muck
To throw them grenades and kill.
Sure there is an agent called luck
But the driving force is will.
He hears the trampling of many feet
But not a man in his firing range.
He's hoping to be very discrete
In order to attack and derange.
He has been shot in the chest
A stray bullet gone astray.
But the coin in the pocket of his breast
has kept him from falling prey.
He looks into the night sky
With a new found respect for life.
Whilst another bullet pierces his thigh
And he loses out on all thats rife.
He is yet another victim of war
Once honoured and now suppressed.
The only question asked is 'what for'
His free soul is still possessed.
For he is the unknown soldier
And unknown he will forever be...
Rattled he always is.
Circumstances are often dire
What good to yearn for a kiss.
Mud water passes as soup
He gulps it down with disregard.
War has trapped him in a coop
His family has been hit hard.
The battlefield is now his home
And war is an excuse to fight.
He's never used his pocket comb
For there isn't a mirror in sight.
He crawls through the muck
To throw them grenades and kill.
Sure there is an agent called luck
But the driving force is will.
He hears the trampling of many feet
But not a man in his firing range.
He's hoping to be very discrete
In order to attack and derange.
He has been shot in the chest
A stray bullet gone astray.
But the coin in the pocket of his breast
has kept him from falling prey.
He looks into the night sky
With a new found respect for life.
Whilst another bullet pierces his thigh
And he loses out on all thats rife.
He is yet another victim of war
Once honoured and now suppressed.
The only question asked is 'what for'
His free soul is still possessed.
For he is the unknown soldier
And unknown he will forever be...
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