The Heretic..

..freelancing.

2011-12-30T23:20:00.001+05:30

Guest posting over at Cherie's:

:)

Mémè - obviously, another one, because it is easy.

2011-04-27T21:32:00.009+05:30

Yes, this one is about books - found it on tumblr. Was searching for Dostoevsky quotes.
Yeah.. lazy still.
Here goes:

1. One book / books you're currently reading:
"Origins" by Neil de Grasse Tyson & Donald Goldsmith, "The Demon Haunted World" by Carl Sagan, & "Wuthering Heights" by Emily Brontë

2. The book that changed your life early on, as a child:
"Space (To other Planets)" by Pavel Klushantsev (..and a few other fabulous Mir Publication science books!)

3. One author's works you'd be stranded on a deserted island with:
One author wouldn't really be enough, but if it absolutely came to that - Satyajit Ray

4. One book you've never been able to finish:
Two actually, "Art of War" by Sun Tzu & "War and Peace" by Leo Tolstoy.. dunno why. :S
Do you see a trend here..?

5. One book that made you laugh:
"Ha Ja Ba Ra La" by Shukumar Roy

6. One book that made you cry:
"The Diary of a Young Girl" by Anne Frank

7. One book you keep rereading:
I usually don't. So much to read, such paucity of time..

8. One book you've been meaning to read:
"The Cleft" by Dorris Lessing

9. One book you believe everyone should read:
"Flowers for Algernon" by Daniel Keyes

10. One book that you wish you read earlier than you actually did:
"The Fountainhead" by Ayn Rand.

11. One author you wish you were friends with:
Fydor Dostoevsky

12. One book that you took you gave better direction to your life:
"Surely You're Joking, Mr. Feynman!" by Richard P. Feynman

13. One author you feel you wasted time on:
Quite a few, but Chetan Bhagat comes to mind, presently.

14. Finally, grab the nearest book. Open it to a random page. Write out a random sentence.
"The difficulties of detecting dark matter, intimately connected with our difficulties in perceiving what what it might be, raise the question: If all matter has mass, and mall mass has gravity, does all gravity have matter?"
[Pg.69 bookmarked, 6th. sentence; "Origins" - Tyson N. dG., Goldsmith D.]

I tag you, my Strega.. let's see what you come up with.
;]

..the Girl who reads.

2011-03-09T03:21:00.004+05:30

"Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilightseries.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes."

- Rosemarie Urquico

(Today is the day after Women's Day, it has no significance compared to any other day for a man, without a woman who he can appreciate. This i quote to appreciate my girl, who reads and writes. However, before i write any further, i must state the history of this post; it is interesting, to say the least!

I first saw this linked on a tweet by my friend Angeline. She had it linked from a certain Monica from Milwaukee, who reblogged it on her tumblr from another tumblr blog that had the post, who again, in turn, i don't know how, got it from here.. Katie is the name on that one, i guess. If it interests you, here is the story of how the original-author was discovered; yes.. she needed discovering. And finally - this is the link to the (original) author's facebook page.

This post is a tribute to not only the beauty of a girl who reads, but also to the very act of reading. I find it wonderful in the flow, and have not dared violating it with edits. It is also a push to everyone with the capacity, to appreciate the aforementioned beauty of that girl.. the one that reads. I love how value is imparted to what truly is valuable, and not to attributes that are otherwise superficial, less enriching, and often downright useless. I am able to appreciate this post because i am in the position to truly understand it, see the nuances and identify my experiences with the words. I thank the course of my life for being in this position. Truly, if blessings exist, i am blessed.. with my girl.

..the one who writes, and of course, reads.)

02 Feb 2011

2011-02-02T21:55:00.004+05:30

Today is my anniversary.
Three years ago, in a woman whose beauty can only be contested by her intelligence, i found a companionship and affection so brilliant - it was like sun-gazing.

Today is my anniversary, of life with that woman; she who gave meaning to what was mostly nonsense - we collided in a setting so far from social that it could be called a combat. Right when my mind was in the middle of a confusion devoted to soul-searching and redefining what and who people actually were - came this device of Nature, intended almost to reinstate my belief in it, in us all. She caused the paradigm shift, she became the motive force to my engine, the fuel to my drive, the essence of my zest. Through her i saw life very differently, through her i met my potential, through her i found a family other than what i was born with. She gave a sense of direction like no other, a sense of unwavering security which no one else could even think of providing. There were no conditions, no ifs, no by the ways. She loved easily, with clear reasoning and judgment - no more was love a groveling, self-pitying, selfless venture, never would it be an exercise of remorse. It transcended into being a tapestry of very very self-serving and highly motivating force - where the sense of self is magnified due to the relationship with the other; due to my relationship with her. Never would it be possible for me to measure myself on a metric held by anyone but me, because in loving her, i've discovered myself as opposed to inventing myself.

This is my monologue with you, for you; you know you are her.

You are the woman that i measure 'womanhood' with, you're my scale of intelligence and beauty. With you i spill myself like an aimless ambling brook, and you let me, you know when to scold me and when to just be a plinth. Yet, you've been my child, my best-friend, and my lover. I love how you've held my hand and supported me in all my plans, to your best. I love that you're honest and to the point - never vague. Love that you're naughty, love that you read the way you do, love that you sing, draw, dance.. love that you're so smart, love that you are not prey to illogic. Love how there is no 'luck' or 'prayer' midst us - only facts and knowledge. Love that i do not need to question myself when i am with you - to be with you becomes to be with me. Love your humor, your style, your smile - the lucky-tooth.. love every bit of this amazing combination that's us. I love the fact that the fights we have do not break us even when it's like a typhoon meeting a hurricane, love how you never give up on me, never.

With you, i can never say that i love you without reasons, because i know i have many. Many.

You are my sanctuary, you bring me sanity - everything else can only ever have less meaning. You bring me peace, a calm like no other. You brought me back from me own hell and you gave me a slice of what is most real - better than heaven could ever be. You are a good part of my reasoning and you make me plan a good future.
You are a large part of why i am where i am today, you are the reason that i even started to work hard, and aced what i did in my own way.

One of these days, i'll ask you to marry me. You can practice on your 'yes'.

I love you.
On this day, i dedicate all of my success to you - knowing you'll bring me more. You're a good thing, my good thing.

2011 - Hope

2011-01-27T18:34:00.006+05:30

"When you're in love, you want to tell the world."
- Carl Sagan

I think i'll make a habit of writing regularly now.. it has been a while, different reasons have been the cause. The range is amazing. But i always end up regretting not jotting down what came to me. That's a constant.

How i'll do it, i've no clue of now. This post i am writing as i am traveling to Univ. It's an 18minute journey, if i type at the pace of my thoughts, i'll be able to pen a lot.

The present mind-state is that of clutter. There're too many thoughts racing.. thoughts that belong here, and in other channels, on other outlets. But it's a sunny day out today, and any day is good for change. Even a plan should be good, right..?! Hope to join the Gym again. If i tire myself enough, i'll probably not have a devil's workshop between the ears.

I have made many mistakes, many are in the pipeline. I am not proud of a few things i've done, and proud of a few others. Time to slowly, if not in a flash, change bit by bit.
I'll play more Computer Games, i'll cook for myself more, i'll talk and connect to people more, to loved ones more, i'll start reading more, i'll sleep on time, i'll study better, i'll go out and see the City. I'll be less lazy, i'll try to be better.
I will.

Arrived.

2010-09-26T16:10:00.001+05:30

..yupp! I am in Stockholm - so many things remain unsaid, unwritten. So many rants unexpressed. I need to write what is left, the balance. Old thoughts, new experiences. All.

(That was written on the 26th. of Sept 2010. Months ago. I should get writing again, for the sheer pleasure in it.. this writers' block is becoming an angina swiftly. Will post this back-dated to keep chronology.

Today is actually the 20th. of January 2011.)

Gives me goosebumps..

2010-07-20T23:23:00.003+05:30

..everytime!

Video from http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tIdIqbv7SPo

(26Jul10 edit: I was told that a dedication brings a point of reference to something such as this.. plus, of course, the song is fitting in my situation, the delivery is impeccable - just the way i feel. So, the truth: This is to my love, my life, my Sherry; to celebrate the glory of such passionate love in which distance aches, to you - my everything..!)

.

Natrang ..claps for it.

2010-07-12T23:16:00.000+05:30

Image from http://passionforcinema.com/

I just finished watching Natrang.. just, like a few seconds ago. It is now 2031hrs. of the 12th. day of July 2010. And i have fallen in love with this - head over heels over head over heels. It is probably the most beautiful movie, nay, work of art actually, that i've seen in a long time.

It all started when Sherry told me'bout it.

She had called.. she'd described the song "Apsara Aali" to me, she sung it to me, a bit. And just when i was starting to get impatient, she sent me a link on You Tube.
It had me hooked - line and sinker to the screen - here was sheer sensual poetic elegance, not imbued with vulgar innuendoes, but lit with the lilting sense of desire. The dance was of course a song in itself, the words were dancing, flirting at the borders of being erotic at times. For my second round i closed my eyes - let myself soak in it. Stroking memory to find the meanings as i saw them written in the subtitles. Smiling at the meaning when i remembered. I hadn't had a beautiful experience with art, any form of it, for long.. the release was exquisite!

I wish to steal a line from the beautifully written post here.. which i found while researching the lyrics of this song.

"And thus began my love affair with Marathi poetry."

The third time i played it to myself.. i was discovering the song even more. Every verse laden with the sultry aroma of desire, the alluring promise of beauty. Sorbet like combinations of words that excite.. that evoke delight in what is almost the worship of the woman.

"Chhabidaar surat dekhani, janu hirkani, naar gulzar..
..saangate umar kanchuki bhapudi mukhi.. sosate bhaar..
..shelati khunaavi kati.. tashi hanuvati, nayan talwar."

(..use the link above (simpler) or this one (thorough) for the translations.)

I fell in love with my Sherry again. It happens everyday, but the intensity varies.. and this was a peak. It helps to understand something in context when you have a person you love, in that very context. I wanted to experience the entire bouquet from which this gladiolus came.

I acquired the movie. Watched it riveted, and smiled at the ending.
It is the life of an artist, this movie.. the strife, the love, everything. But everything is raw, like reality. The protagonist, who treads the fine line of being the antihero at places, does not receed into analysis; explanation and guilt are also not made part of the story. Crisp and paced like a hummingbird, the script knows what to portray, where to hover and how to do it well.

..the end, yes. The ending is something people might differ with me on, but it was balanced.
Justified.

For me, this movie is now part of the pantheon where the likes of Jungfurkallen, Akira, Solaris, Godfather, Amores Perros, Pulp Fiction, Vaastav, Shawshank Redemption, Bomarrillu etc. rest.
A whole new genre is now open to me.. and i'm hungry!

p.s. For those who're in a hurry to watch this movie, a torrent that includes the OST can be found here, but like always - buy it if you love it.
;)

edit:
On a parallel, i had a fractionally similar reaction with Manasa, a song from the movie Munna[2007]. (..here on You Tube.)
It is a beautiful Telegu song, beautiful not because of its lyrical prowess, but for its music and execution. The video failed at so many levels it's sad.. but a beautiful song nonetheless. Deserved a mention.

In Descent

2010-07-05T20:23:00.001+05:30

We went watching The Descent - 2 yesterday..

Gore: Yess..!!
Full with, blood, bones, gooey spittle and red shit of cave dwelling creatures!..

The movie does with a phosphor stick, a few flashlights and flares what none else can. Taut acting, thin australian accents!.. and yepp, here comes the spoiler, wait for it..

EVERYONE DIES..!

:] *bruhahahaha!!*

How good is that?! I mean, there is no mother-son reunion at the end, no tears shed, no late ambulances with handsome yankee idiots popping out that say "You alright..??" out of that same old redundant american concern which makes them wrap warm blankets around just'bout anyone in just'bout any disaster.

But more fun was learning about fellow Indians at the show.
There is this scene where a female deputy thins she's gonna die, and she pulls out her Nokia N81 8GB from a zip-lock pouch, and starts to record this video message for her son - "..dear son, mommy loves you very much.." and stuff. I, my sister, the guy who was busy kissing his girl a few seats away, and the guys one aisle down - we all, in the middle of this, this very emotionally gravid scene, we all whisper to each other:

"..nokia en eighty one hai bey..! Aaat gee bee.."
(..it's a Nokia N81, man..! Eight GB..)

We're a nation full of such people, you & i included.
..and it's damn funny if you learn to notice these things!
:D

But, it was a good movie, a decent watch!
:)
It is kinda' funny when you notice these things too.. i guess!

Then, late last night, i was talking to my girl about the movie, the World Cup and the handsome basterd Mr Bastian Schweinsteiger in general (..yeah, long story!). I realized (read: was told) that the Klose of Miroslav Klose is pronounced KLOE-suh, and not Klose as in Close. I also realized (read: was told) that "glossing over details" means to "overlook" or like Oxford puts it: "try to conceal or pass over", AND it does NOT mean "paying too much attention to".

It's because, without checking a dictionary, i connected "gloss" with "glossy" and that with "shine". Then i thought how positive a connotation the words shine and gloss have - so it must be to shine over, pore over, give attention to, stuff..

Dumb, right..!? I know..

It strikes me now that i'm not really as smart as i'd like to believe i am. I mean, the same thing happed in early 2008. Sushil and i..

Sushil: ..dude, (yes, he always starts with 'dude') what does segue mean..?
Me: *over-confidence* It is like a paste, like.. you know, thick viscous mixture.
Sushil: Yeah? Then why do they have that 'Personal Transportation' thingy that's called segue
Me: Yeah.. maybe it has someth..
Sushil: I think i read somewhere that it's about moving from a scene to another.. i don't remember much.
Me: ..dude!.. c'mon! How does that make sense!? (no, i usually never start with 'dude')

Needless to say, we researched it, and i learned that he was correct; i'd once lost a challange with Lux - the Finch vs. the Drongo. It was a Drongo, and i learned that Finches are smaller. It extends to spellings too - i have countless photos of spelling errors in public situations - and some are hilarious!!.. but i can barely only distinguish between their and there.

Many moons ago, i was corrected that things can't be "quiet good", later i had an embarrassing moment when i wrote something along the lines of "..i am the Lion, and this is my Liar! :D" ..yes, with the smiley. This blog itself is witness to me receiving advice on how "recieving" isn't really the correct spelling. I usually let google correct my spellings, but then i know..

..THIS >> http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/life_and_style/education/article5006527.ece

It explains a lot to me. A whole lott, like Reciept, Embarassed, Separetely, Confidance, Brochoure, Acommodation, Occurrance, Relience.. and a lott more!

Plus of course, you gotta agree with Mark Twain when he probably said "I don't give a damn for a man that can only spell a word one way." and ~~definetely~~, ~~definitlee~~, definitely wrote "They spell it "Vinci" and pronounce it 'Vinchy'. Foreigners always spell better than they pronounce."

Meanwhile , whenever i don't have a clue'bout what a word means; i have a fantabulous girlfriend..!
:)

Da Supa'Dawg..!

2010-06-12T22:50:00.005+05:30

..so when my girl told me that i was being a lazy ass, and that i should write like i used to - i started to think. I knew she'd kill me if i did not put my thoughts to words in the Times New Roman soon.

So i started browsing, searching for memes, strolling over to Sunday Stealing as usual.

..and then i had this thought: if i wouldn't write, she'll pro'lly stab me to death. But if i did a meme, it'll be a blunt knife to my rib cage. Repeatedly.

As i twisted my lower-lip, bit my nails.. i was scrolling down the page on the screen - all filled will memes each of which asks details of your personal life with nauseating alacrity. I mean, "have you ever kissed", "was the girl you kissed beautiful", "will you kiss a stranger", "if the asshole is dirty, will you ki.." ..etc. can only fuel your imagination to a point, and it is just a certain type of / aspect of a person we're exploring. It is boring.. drilling, if you like emphasis.

..till i hit this meme. It was SO friggin' awesome!! It, incidentally happens to be a topic that my girl and i have had long (and some short) conversations about..! (..she thinks, i'm not the comic-book type.)

Just couldn't pass this one up. Just. Couldn't.

1. The first character I fell in love with:

- Chacha Chowdhury. His bloody brain works faster than a computer!

2. The character I never expected to love as much as I do now:

- The Punisher.. oooh!.. the method!

3. The character I would shag anytime:

- I can get in trouble (..the serious type!) for saying this, but.. Wolverine! I'll let him do me anytime.. with the adamantium claw scratches all over my back!!

4. The character I'd slap:

- ..ummm, The Hulk.. the dude needs a serious dose of Nitrous Oxide..!

5. Who are my 3 favorite characters.

- Doga, Chacha Chowdhury, Bhokal. Also.. Phantom, Spawn, Blade (..in the international category).

6. What are my 3 favorite pairings.

- Chacha Chowdhury + Sabu. Mandrake + Lothar. Nagraj + SuperCommando Dhruv.

7. Which character I'm most like.

- Doga. He is a Raj Comics character, and he is a tru'dawg!

8. The coolest thing about the canon:

- ..it f'ing KILLS..!

9. The lamest crappiest thing about the canon:

- Weight, seriously buddy, you have to work the materials.

10. My guiltiest pleasure in this fandom:

- Seeing deaths!! :P

11. What story I wish I could read (or art I wish I could see)

- Maybe an omnibus of Raj Comics.

12. What story I wish I had written/still want to write

- I Dunno if this will qualify, but 'The Lord of the Rings'.

(..just look at those muscles!! Ooooh!)

(All images from Wikipedia.)

(p.s. I have only put links to the Indian Superheroes - the international ones get enough attention already.)
.

Bawlin'

2010-05-05T11:27:00.002+05:30

..then, and now!

Sometimes..

2010-04-04T07:26:00.000+05:30

..i feel like this, when i talk to people.

Do i really talk too much?

(..where this author is contemplative..)

2010-02-15T13:40:00.001+05:30

(..it is just great. Yes, life is great!!)

6W's

2010-01-13T09:13:00.000+05:30

Who...

Is easy to love?
- S/he who returns it.

Do you just wanna smack?
- The one without logic.

Do you trust?
- S/he who can honor it.

Do you talk to when you're alone?
- The one who won't let me get to 'lonely' from 'alone'.

What...

Dangerous things do you do while driving?
- Think.. but i'm sure it's not too dangerous!

Are you allergic to?
- I think to Brinjal.

Is Satan's last name?
- Ignoramus

Is the freakiest thing in your house?
- ..after me, you mean?!

When...

Is it time to turn over a new leaf?
- When the present leaf causes conflict with reason.

Will you be all that you can be?
- ..and then some. Within seven years.

Is enough enough?
- Never. Enough is always relative!!

Do you go to the dark side?
- Rather, i occasionally come to the brighter side!

Where...

Are your pants?
- Low on my waist, unbuttoned, but zipped up.

Is your last will and testament?
- In my mind. Still to be inked.

Is your junk food stash?
- Back left corner. First rack on the right. Kitchen.

Is Carmen Sandiego?
- Don't know, don't care.

Why...

Was the Lone Ranger alone?
- It's a wolf thing.

Was The Scarlet Letter scarlet?
- Esoterically so.

Are musicians sexy and plumbers not?
- It's actually the other way'round, sometimes.

Are there no seat belts on school buses?
- The driver. He's the seat belt, he's the air-bag.

Would you...

Swim the English Channel for a doughnut and coffee? If not that, what?
- No. Too lazy.
I may give it a thought for:
1. Eternal life
2. The power to stop time.

Forgive someone who deliberately hurt you?
- Never.

Rather believe a lie if it hurt you less than the truth?
- No.

You still be alive if you were sucked out of an airplane window?
- I'd like to think so!

Can't Sleep : Stolen Again!

2010-01-10T23:15:00.003+05:30

Here..
:)

Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed?
- It would be. She's far away.

When is it hard to kiss someone?
- When without desire

You're trapped in a room with your most recent ex for three days, what do you do?
- Kill her. Eat her raw flesh to stay alive. Heh.. nah, maybe if i had an ex, i'll just enjoy the uncomfortable silence.

Does it matter to you if your significant other smokes?
- Yes.

Have you ever regretted letting someone go?
- No

Where would you go if you were butt naked and locked out of your house?
- Liquor Store. Only alcohol could be the solvent that would solve such ludicrousness.

Do you want to please everyone?
- No, only a select few.

Have you ever been called heartless?
- Yes. Refer to Q4 here.

Someone calls you at 3:00 AM, who do you expect it to be?
- My Lover.

Does it matter if your significant other drinks?
- Not to a certain extent.

Could you go the rest of your life without doing drugs?
- Hehehehe..! *wink!*

Which is better, amazing eyes or an amazing smile?
- Smile. The eyes smile along..

Do you want to get married and have children one day?
- Everyday.

Are you easy to get along with?
- Very.

Do you ever want to go to sleep and not wake up?
- The thought has crossed my mind, yes..

Are you shorter than your Mom?
- Nope!

Describe your life currently in one word:
- Purpose.

Are you on medication for anything?
- For my nose condition.

Who would you allow to read your thoughts for one day?
- My Lover. Anyday.

Are there things in your life that you will never be able to get over?
- Errors.

If you woke up naked next to the last person you kissed, what would your reaction be?
- Wake her up with some serious love makin'..! :) *bruhahahaha!!!*

*phew!*
Another excuse to not write for a while now.
:D

The Magical Mystery Tour Meme

2009-11-08T23:40:00.003+05:30

..yawn!! I'm bored. So lemme steal another one - back to back, right here!!

*bruhahaha!!*
:D
(p.s. this meme doesn't make much sense.)

1. Is there anybody you just wish would fall off the planet?

- ..yeeeeesss! :]

2. How do you flush the toilet in public?

- ..with the toe-end of my shoes.

3. Do you wear your seatbelt in the car?

- ..mostly, yes!

4. Do you have a crush on someone?

- ..no, i'm in mad love..!

5. Name one thing you worry about running out of.

- ..challenges.

6. What famous person do you (or other people) think you resemble?

- Kumar (..of The Kumars at #42.), someties Madhavan too.

7. What is your favourite pizza topping?

- ..olive

8. Do you crack your knuckles?

- ..sometimes, it's not a habit.

9. What song do you hate the most?

- ..certain highly catchy 80s hindi songs.

10. Did just mentioning that song make it get stuck in your head?

- ..damn it..!

11. What are your super powers?

- ..stopping time.

12. Peppermint or spearmint?

- ..no mint, no gum. :D* << ..that's the sparkling toothy grin..!

13. Where are your car keys?

- ..in the box on the wall near the main door.

14. Last song you listened to?

- Driftin' Away by Paul Hardcastle.

15. What's your most annoying habit?

- ..i bite my nails.

16. Where did you last go on vacation?

- ..kati.

17. What is your best physical feature?

- ..a dimpled smile.

18. What CD is closest to you right now?

- ..the disc that belong to Rahul.. umm.. says Windows7. Oh yeah, it's the crack for the MS Windows OS.

19. What 3 things can always be found in your refrigerator?

- Cheese. Juice. Cucumber.

20. What superstition do you believe/practice?

- ..clicking my left heel on the floor thrice, every time i leave home.

21. What colour are your bed sheets?

- Red

22. Would you rather be a fish or a bird?

- Bird - the type that dives into water to catch fish..!

23. Last thing you broke?

- ..a corner of my Nokia 6101. Chipped it a bit.

24. What are you having to eat tonight?

- Onion Parantha.

25. What colour shirt are you wearing?

- nothing right now, it's warm here. Last i wore a grey tee when i went out to meet Agnelo.

26. If you could be doing anything else today, what would you rather be doing?

- ..shopping. For Strega.

27. Do security cameras make you nervous?

-No, it makes me wanna do crazy stuff tho'..!

28. If you wrote a book about your life, what would the title be?

-It would be called "Lazy Days". (..that's another song by Hardcastle.)

29. Last time you went to a cemetery?

- ..last month.

30. Last concert you went to?

- ..more than a year ago. With my Love.

31. Favourite musician(s)/bands you've seen in concert?

- ..none. However, i wish i could see Tupac live..

32. Next concert you're planning to attend?

- ..unplanned.

33. Do you talk to yourself?

- ..sometimes, yes.

34. Have you ever adopted or purchased a pet?

- ..cared for many. Many. Haven't had the resources to adopt any till date.

35. Have you ever been present when an animal is being born?

- ..yes. Dog, cow, cat.

The ABC's of Meme

2009-11-08T23:08:00.000+05:30

Thought i'll start easy here - maybe steal a meme, make things easy for me. I'm using the Blogger webpage to blog; first ever i think..!
Let's see..
:D

A- Advocate for: ..logic

B- Best Feature: ..i'm a humorist.

C- Could do without: ..all the irritating people in life.

D- Dreams and desires: Success, health and happiness.

E- Essential items: Cellphone.

F- Favorite past time: Books. Music. Internet.

G- Good at: ..almost everything i do. No i'm not bragging

H- Have never tried: ..to understand electronics and computer code.

I- If I had a million dollars: ..i'll invest wisely, make the money grow.

J- Junkie for: Music.. and movies.

K- Kindred spirit: Strega

L- Little known fact: ..i too cry.

M- Memorable moment: ..falling in love.

N- Never again will I: ..fail

O- Occasional indulgence: Liquor

P- Profession: Engineer

Q- Quote: Equality over Belief; Ethics over Equality; Morals over Ethics; and Sense & Logic over Morals.. (my own)

R- Reason to smile: ..life.

S- Sorry about: ..nothing as of now.

T- Things you are worrying about right now: My Love, my career, my family - not necessarily in that order.

U- Uninterested in: ..business.

V- Very scared of: ..failure.

W- Worst habits: I bite my Nails..

Y- Yummiest dessert: ..payesh made by Mom.

X- X marks my ideal vacation spot: Chakrata - Uttaranchal

Z- Zodiac sign: Saggitarius

Whew..!

Left to Right

2009-11-01T23:43:00.000+05:30

Damned if i do.. damned if i don't. ..guess i'll have to go with "Do" here.

For the love of luft.

2009-10-30T19:13:00.002+05:30

(..pic comin up later.)

This is my Sister, in her room when she was a student. This photo is from around 11 years ago. The pigeon just decided to make a headline with this pit stop. I used to tease my Sis telling her it was for a breakfast of lice in her hair that the pigeon came and stopped for.. she thinks its a lousy joke..
:D

This is from a year ago. Unfortunately the chick died.. it was abandoned by its mother. It lived a pretty healthy 22 days, before we found it stiff one morning.
I think Max fell in love with it.

This is Romeo & Juliet. They're always there when i'm taking a bath - in the vents of the utility shaft. They're a cool couple - they're not disturbed by whatever i do inside.. which, by the way, is not to that i do disturbing stuff inside But they're always relaxed, very, kinda' groovy. They don't mind my singing..
I think they like to see me naked. Maybe. Oh well..

This is from back in August09. I left this in the shade.. it was feeding on Nachni from the palm of my hand. Hope it stays well. .. was injured in the foot.

edit: This is from work: it sits here with its lover. At work..

Cuppa

2009-09-06T20:20:00.000+05:30

The coffee machine on the fourth floor of Convergys is a bitch at making coffees.. it makes the smoothest, the bestest coffee ever. Now i thought no other machine could touch it, or its shadow.. until i had this coffee in Badnera - on my way to Nagpur of course. I think it was seven in the morning. Just to get a drink with my biscuits, i went for it, and i never go for the coffee they make off the kettle. This, fitted with the Bisteri bottle for its water, was the safe option & oh what an option! It was one of the best machine brews i've ever had the pleasure of having.
It was in a nice IRCTC paper cup. Ran me two whole minutes..

Coffee helps. Like the coffee we had at Asati Sir's place yesterday night. It was a brilliant home brew, and it helped me kick my level of intelligence and more importantly my alertness - up a few bars. Halfway down the length of the train, i realized i hadn't even the hint of a ticket for this little journey piece from Gondia to Nagpur. I started to run towards the General coaches at the frontend. The train started to move. I ran faster. The train gained speed. Sushil, who was (running) with me, assured that if we ran enough - we'd be able to catch the General before the platform ran out. A flash of me running on the ballast till Nagpur, trying to grab that hand-rail for the General compartment came to my mind. I latched myself to the nearest door that was moving by my side.. and it happened to be an Air Conditioned coach. I went - "Shit!!", waved to Sushil & turned.. the Ticket Checker was standing in my face.
I don't know whether i had the story cooked in my mind or i made it on the fly - but i told him that two other friends were in the General coach already,t they had the ticket, and i couldn't run to catch the General 'cuz i was buying the umm.. potato chips. I showed him the bags of chips that Sushil had bought me for the journey. He looked at me, hair dishevelled, shoe straps undone, stopping for breath - all accompanied by the (in)famous innocent face.
(I'd put a picture here, but photos don't do justice to the combination of my sharp features, my expressive eyes seen together with my dimpled smile, played to tuned perfection! :P)

I showed the Checker my ticket from Nagpur to Kalyan along with the used tickets from my journey here & told him in the most sincere way how i'm not silly enough to jeopardize my entire journey by travelling ticketless, how i always buy tickets & even now Sushil is sitting four coaches away in the General compartment with my ticket worth 49bucks. Midst all this, just as cautionary measures, i sent a text message to Sushil at his home so that if i called - he'd truly suddenly find himself in General compartment and corroborate. Sent him a valid ticket number to read out if asked.
I travelled the rest of my way to Nagpur undisturbed - chatting with the Attendant.

..so yes, coffee does help.
And if one example isn't good for ya - read on.

Remember that nice 'lil paper cup from the morning cuppa at Badnera..?! Well, after the warmth percolated down my entire system.. i, my friends, felt the pressure building in me. Needless to say, on a train journey - the cup is a valuable tool under high pressure situations. Though it tends to get soft after handling water for a while..!
;D

That thing..!

2009-09-05T21:44:00.007+05:30

..the Comedy of Errors i was talking about.

A couple of weeks ago, i got this return call from Convergys.

Man on Line: "Oh hi, is this Arnab?"

Me: "Yes.."

Man on Line: "Okay, i'm Man on Line calling from Convergys.. i understand you had come here for a walk in and you cleared all but the Ops Round..?"

Me: "Yes.."

Man on Line: "Well, we have some openings in some technical processes here, and i wanted to ask you if you'd be interested in such an opportunity.."

Me: :D

..and so it rolled. A few weeks before this, i'd gone to Convergys.. it's maybe 800m from my place. A nice walk. Through this neighbourhood.

..anyway, it was a walk in and i really easily strolled through the entire gig. And all was well till my last round - the Ops Round. I was summarily rejected there.. it was one question which got of really. Just one important question..

Ops Round: "So, what're your plans for the future? You know.. with the Engineering degree."

..out i rolled with my plans of Masters, of a future studded with diamonds. I gushed about how i was gonna do Material Sciences, about how i was gonna apply all that i've learned. I talked about my project at length, about aerodynamics. About HAL.
I must've missed that funny look on his face then, because i knew exactly what it meant when i saw him after i was told i was not selected - because i was not looking for a future with the company.
It figures.

..so i knew exactly what *NOT to say this time. I went. Needless to say i strolled through the entire thing. Again. There were two processes, and on clearing all rounds of the first, the recruitment ppl asked me whether i wanted to go for another process - a higher paying one of course. And i said, why not..?!
:D

..the rest was another walk in the park, and it was here, in the Ops Round - that i was being interviewed by this really nice guy, and i had more of a conversation than an inquisition of my intent. I thought it went reasonably well. And i found out just how well it went approximately three minutes after the conclusion of the interview.
Ol' Man on Line came out to me and mentioned:

Man on Line: "Wow Man..! You must've made quite an impression! I've seen him (pointing to Nice Guy) here for five years and he is very senior haan.. this is the second time ever that he has liked a candidate right from the interview. And the last time was a year and half ago..!"

Me: "THAT is great.. even i liked him. We had more like a conversation.."

Man on Line: "Yes yes, good work man.. all stars there. He specifically told me you were amazing in your umm.. conversation, he's never said that much!"

Me: :D

There was a little backpatting from the other guys who also had survived the day with me. Good experience, good work culture. Starting 3rd. Sept. i'm on it.

(..i was a bit happy with the adulation, and wanted to tell this to the people i love most. Over the phone, in conversation, stuff. But it's not always possible. We lead busy lives, with a lott to tell to each other, so the blog exists for the more trivial things in life.)

..edit: Today, the 3rd. Sept, that is - i joined. It was the first day. We signed the joining docket, and the day ended with a team-building and ice-breaking session, aptly titled TGIF (Thank God It's Funday). I was awarded a sleek Convergys pen at the bottom end of the day, for being the most participative.. so that started well..! The batch is good, with some fun ppl, some smug basterds and some stupid fucks. So, it's a very well rounded crowd.. the male female ratio is about 7girls & 10guys.
..nice. Let's see how things roll from here!
:D

Muve

2009-08-17T23:29:00.002+05:30

Watched Kaminey. OBOY, OBoy, Oboy, oboy..!

It is the best amazing movie i've watched in a long time. The racy speed, the dark humor, the antics of the lead pair (Shahid & Priyanka), the pha ko pha bolna, the villains, the background score, the dark tone of the filming, the twists, the turns.
Oh Damn Boy!
People have rightly compared this with Tarantino's work. It, like it suggests, needs you to do the figuring out.

The chemistry between Sweety and Guddu is pure platinum. The way she loves, oh my, the way she lies to him, the way she is protective, the way she is excited about marriage with him, the way she is always supportive, even after a hurtful exchange, even after he's unsure about marriage.
The way the brothers - Guddu & Charlie, (both played by Shahid) interact is another beautiful story shown in just the right amount. The fanaticism of Bhope Bhau, the absolut cranky craziness of Mikhail and the Bangaali brothers, the twisted ideals of Charlie, the singing simplicity of Guddu - all makes for a marathon of entertainment with all the usual pulls of Bollywood - romance, violence, song & dance, the works. Another good thing is that it doesnt make caricatures of it's leads, the deviations do not cut into the sexiness or machismo of the make leads. Is uses no cultural cliches (other than maybe the 'Jai Maharashtra' bit, but it too is underplayed) and it does not use the Don angle to the point of making a Mogambo or even a Sarkar out of Taashi. Everything is wonderfully woven - like a Turkish Carpet.

It was amazing, and i can vouch, i would want to watch the movie again, and maybe then again.
:D

Watched Love Aaj Kal too, it was a good movie. They showed a very casual relationship between the lead pair (Saifu & Deepika) in the beginning.. that is the main storyline and it is contrasted sharply with Rishi Kapoor's love story (youth played by Saif again). They used the bridge metaphore (building & burning bridges) in both the stories very well, with the Howrah Bridge and the Bridge Saif designs in Frisco.. nice acting by Saif, who i've always liked in such roles. Deepika is slightly stiff at places, two neat pegs of Vodka before every shot would've rectified that problem very well.. but. Oh well.
The movie, fortunately for me, has a happy ending.. and if you know me, you'll know i'm a sucker for that..!

So, both my trips to the plex were worth it. Kaminey more wonderful than anything i've caught in a long time.
And though i'm never gonna turn this into an endless movie review blog - i'm somehow sure, that i'll end up writing about Quickgun Murugan.

Till then, Mind It..!
:D

La Divina Commedia

2009-07-16T20:17:00.006+05:30

(Hi. This is Shuchita. bronzmash asked me to do a guest post so here it is. hope you guys enjoy it. Happy reading.)

Cheryl was walking home from the coffee shop, a latte sipped in deep contemplation. Oh, for heaven's sake. It didn't matter, Cause she loved him. They used to love each other. She would call him & make him smile. She didn't want him to do anything brash on his boys' weekend getaway. She stopped on the pavement & dialed him. The phone kept ringing. He wouldn't pick up. She tried a few more times, each time with growing trepidation. Absently, in her need to be moving, she walked right into an incoming car.

***

The effort to lift her lashes seemed enormous, the light fighting to get into her eyes like water escaping the gates of a dam, painful..faces, happy, relieved, bewildered, concerned faces came into sharper focus. Voices demanding her attention. Her head seemed devoid of thought, unwilling to come into action. & it hurt! oh, all over whatever she could feel of her existence, it hurt. Her comma following her accident that claimed the life of her love, Saarthi, also a veteran actor was quite hot news for some time. She could remember somethings, faint images, voices going in and out of tune, champagne flutes, laughter, flash bulbs, the carpet, blood red. wait...blood....hot..thick blood...pain...her vision turning scarlet, twisted legs, police siren. n Saarthi.,.... "SAARTHI!" she woke with a scream. People around her were worried and shocked! the doctor was called and she was calmed. she looked around. who were all these people? where were ma and pa? where were her friends? She wondered why she could not immediately recognize things that seemed faintly familiar. Of course, all this was immediately attributed to her coma.

When the cloud of concussion went from her brain! she was shocked to hear people talk to her as Cheryl! Cheryl?!! Cheryl who? coffee shop what? hit and run? play? yes, she remembered the play! but it was an accident! who ran?
She was Sandhya! Sandhya the theater actress! the one who was making all the news! why were there students here? to visit her? marriage? what were they talking about! marry whom? Darryl who? relieved? why? her Saarthi was gone. her Saarthi! what marital bliss were they talking about! she was close to tears, a frightened, lost child, a stranger amidst a loving family.

The man everyone called Darryl, her fiancé came to visit her. he tried to hold her hand, but her flesh squirmed! she shrunk away. he apologized. over and over again! for what?? One day! she made the effort to visit the washroom on her own! she fainted when she saw her face! she saw a pretty blond, tall n slightly bruised staring at her! who was this? where were those Kohl lined doe eyes, the straight nose, the dusky complexion? it took a moment for her to take it all it. but the full weight of the realisation was too much for her still-tender mind to endure!

***

Cheryl was in coma. in a hospital with the best neurosurgery options available. she was a star! she was Sandhya! Big money rided on her! the theater bosses had her signed for so many shows! she kept coming round and getting conked off again. she could see bouquets. big ones! beautiful ones. she wondered and the effort caused her to lose consciousness again. she could here people asking her if she could here them.

"Sandhya!?" they said! what? she tried to think? she tried to place that sound somewhere cause it seemed familiar...

***

Everyone thought that Sandhya was a little touched in the mind. she was Cheryl after all! but she always admired that beautiful theater actress Sandhya. she now claimed to be. and everyone knew she always wanted to be a little famous. Not much. just a little. And she'd given it all up, the post of a professor at Berkeley, way on the other side of Atlantic, just for Darryl. They thought Darryl's betrayal must've caused the trauma to take this form. this whim of their Cheryl to think she is Sandhya. Meanwhile, Sandhya, not used to the thought of being a nobody, not used to knowing this man, Darryl! she couldn't even think! until one day, she read in the paper of the actress Sandhya's car crash and her subsequent treatment at the Institute of Neurology in Euston. She saw her pictures, details of the party filled the newspaper. "The celebration for the 5oth show!" it said. and suddenly, it all came flooding back to her. the show, the applause, the paparazzi. Saarthi, her Saarthi, frustrated with the rigmarole, but smiling through it all, cause it all signified her success! her will to win. She saw him being engulfed in the frenzy of fans and press alike. and saw his suffocation, felt her own, the need to get away, be together.She thought of how she'd refused to go with him to the little holiday he had planned. A weekend getaway, and she instantly regretted it. then . It was then that she saw this woman. The woman in red. The woman who was staring back at her now, everytime she looked into the mirror! the woman who caught her eye, smiled a shy smile and went away, talking into her phone. she remembered wanting to have a life like her, n-o-r-m-a-l. love-talk on the phone, buying flowers, quiet walks that ended with coffee. the moment she wished that. And now she longed to go back. She didn't really want this! not like this! Longed to have Saarthi with her. just once, just so she could see him laughing, see him running a hand through his hair as was his habit, hold his hand, once, smile into the camera with him. Oh just once! to hear his voice calling out to her! once! Once! just once!...oh....just once!

She broke down n started crying.

"Sandhya! Baby!, Sandhya!" she woke up.

"what happened, baby! stop crying!" she could see Saarthi, worried about her, beside her, trying to wake her up!

"oh Saarthi! i dreamt something...horrible...lets go to the weekend inn you promised. You're right. i don't need to go practice for the 50th time. ill rather spend it with you. But first,i have to meet up with a friend of mine."

"which friend?", he asked.

"Cheryl Bava. She's an Italian. Teaches at the Varsity."

"hmm. never heard of her. You get through with that and I'll meet you here in 3 hours, all packed and ready. K?" Sandhya smiled her assent.

***

"I want to meet Miss Cheryl." Sandhya demanded to the slightly dazzled receptionist.

"she's gone to the cafeteria to..to. get her coffee..miss..mam.!" Ah. She seems to like coffee a lot, Sandhya smiled. Well, that's a better place to talk than her classroom.

"Miss Cheryl?" Sandhya recognized her immediately this time.

"Yes?" she smiled. "you seem familiar. do i know you?"

"of course. I'm sandhya. the actress? and I hear you're quite a fan of my work."

"oh. yes. " Cheryl smiled through her embarrassment."there aren't many Italian plays going on now a days."

"I'm sorry I'm asking this, but, isn't there a problem between you and your erm...fiance'?"

"Excuse me? that's my personal matter, and pardon me, but none of your business" said Cheryl, flashing her Italian temper.

"oh, please don't mind, here is a ticket of the Monday Schedule of my play.Do come and watch. And oh yeah, i know you like coffee. The shop round the corner is my favorite. He makes excellent Lattes", Sandhya smiled her enigmatic smile and walked away.

Cheryl stood dumbstruck at the counter, with the ticket in her hand. How in the name of Dio did she know about Darryl and her? how could she know that that Darryl now had cold feet and didn't want to marry? that he though it would affect his career as a guitarist, even though she'd given up the Berkeley thing for him?. Cheryl sighed. Oh well, it wouldn't hurt to go to the play. She really liked them actually. And monday was Darryl's Boy's day out too. He was gonna finally decide whether he wanted to tie the knot or not. She wondered whether he even loved her now. hmm the torture would end by Monday night anyhow. She might as well enjoy some good theater. And now, she prepared to return to Dante and his 'La Divina Commedia'.

She smiled to herself, and looked skywards. Life, after all, was just one big Divine Comedy.

:)

--- Shuchita Soman.

A Few Good Men

2009-07-13T21:11:00.032+05:30

This is the life of men in high stations..! These guys're enjoying an innocent moment of eye candy, and it gets all over the press. This is so sad, i mean these men too have hormones (hopefully), just ask Michelle or Carla if you have doubts. To me it's funny too that there even was an attempt of a cover up..! Gimme a break. They're only Humans, and they have the right to experience 'acute booty deficiency syndrome' when on a strenuous G8 meet..!
Men will be Men. No two ways'bout it..

See fo'yourself. Our good'ol advertisement laden Times of India expressed it best with:

OBAMA ASSESSES THE BOTTOMLINE
[ ROME-ING EYE: US President Barack Obama and France's Nicolas Sarkozy wait and watch as Mayara Taveres (described variously as 16 or 17 years old), a Brazilian junior delegate at the G8, takes her place for a group photo. The Net was soon buzzing with comments about the 'ogle office' and how the 'red blooded' US Prez who 'channeled his inner Bill Clinton' and gazed at the 'bootylicious Brazilian' may have spent too much time with the Italian premier Silvio Berlusconi. The Drudge Report called it the 'second stimulus package' . One surfer remarked that Obama might find himself sleeping on the couch when he gets back home. ]

p.s. These images are obtained from various international news websites. All images are attributed to their respective sources..

Quietus

2009-06-23T19:45:00.000+05:30

..the author will no longer be available. He suffered an accident, with terminal injuries.

Thank you for the journey.

The Two point Fifth Opinion

2009-06-03T14:51:00.001+05:30

Here's another thought.. the two point fifth opinion.

(This is my counterpoint for SubVerse in the ToI of the 3rd. June 2009)

What should Indian's response be, to the racist attacks on Indian Students, in Australia..? Should we as a nation, collectively shun all things Ozzy? Maybe in a Gandhian bout of non violent protest, we can. Yes, that can be done to bring focus to the events, to bring attention to the facts, to show the world the extent of depravity in racism.

As an effort towards Nation building, we must work towards India having the best educational institutions. We have already, the IIMs and the IITs. However, we lag embarrassingly in the departments of primary and middle school. Good education is available, but at a premium - making it inaccessible to the multitude.
Only with good education will we have a paradigm shift, a complete revolution of thought. We need a change of attitude, an improvement.

Just look at us, as a nation, we're more interested in the love-lives of our so called stars, our Stars, who're hardly worth looking upto, in many cases. Their's is the news that captures our attention first. We build temples to our Cricketers and Actors, and our righteousness makes us beat up young women in pubs. We're still a nation that, albeit decreasing, has number of dowry deaths - we're seeing the decrease because our Men have started to realize that such things are crimes. Crimes that invite punishment. We don't smoke in public, we don't spit on our railway stations, we don't litter our streets because we incur fines for such behaviour. We're a nation of maladjusted reasoning. We stop ourselves before doing something wrong, not because it is wrong, but because we'll have to pay for it. So, fear is what drives us; fear of punishment, of getting caught.. that is our motive power. We work only when push comes to shove.

This attitude is base to our response. It is what makes us think that we, living on a planet with a measly six thousand kilometer radius, can survive ages by shutting ourselves in, by for example, ensuring "that our students can access the best of education at all levels, at home in India and don't have to go to foreign, often inimical, shores to study." Is our reasoning correct, if we feel this way?

Deliberate racial attacks on Indian students abroad is wrong. True.
We should build the best educational institutions at home, to complement the one already existing. We should be able to offer our students the best educational expertise the world has. True.
Maybe in the run for it, we will become an international "Education Hub". Nice.

However, if a student desires, and has the means to - it should be completely his/her choice to pursue further studies abroad, in a different education system. That often gives a student perspective. Many must be familiar with the story of the "Kupa Manduk" - there might be benefits to living that way, but i'm sure only few would agree.
Let our students study abroad if they so desire, just like students from abroad should be able to come here to study. Create exchange programs, make partner schools, open up to the world. There's no need to be world class, we can set our own benchmark, we can become a standard of our own.

Plus who knows, if and when we do become an education hub, many parallel incidents will probably come to light. Till date, most foreign exchange students or foreign tourists who have been harassed, raped and/or murdered, mostly suffered it in Goa (and only sporadically in Delhi and other such high crime areas). As more 'gora-gori's become available, God only knows how we'll react.
To survive is tough, no place is completely friendly to anyone.. our own citizens aren't exactly safe from us as a mob.. we're still carrying the stigma of casteism. At least and most, we as intelligent and adaptable beings, can modify and rectify situations to move on, ahead. Our reaction and our response should be logical.

As a nation, we've every right to be angry with what has happened to our students abroad. We should be angry, after all it's a matter of joke that we're probably the most passive nation in the world. However, we should not replace our anger with an "imitation: best form of flattery" type of 'response', neither are the bus-torching, stone-pelting reactions good. All these have silly reasoning written all over.. all solutions must come from the administration, all protest should be organized so as to cause no damage and loss.
Our reaction, our response speaks volumes about us. Whatever we do, to change, to improve, must be for our own reasons, for the reason that we are capable, for the reason of our own good.

Not to "get even".

Copy Five

2009-05-15T19:21:00.035+05:30

1. How many times have you truly been in love?

(Once)

- Once. The nearly first time, i only thought it was love.. that helped me understand

EDIT: And the cautious true first time - to appreciate and do justice to the emotion..

2. What was/is so great about the person you love(d) the most?

(She pushed boundaries I didn't know I had, was happy with me the way I was, and opened my mind to new ways of thinking about things. Too bad she ended up being a psychotic, sadistic bitch in the end.)

- Heh..! The original answer is cool and hurtingly honest!! Talking of my 'nearly first time', i liked the fact that i knew her since long. We were in love because we'd known each other for like nine years beforehand.. the chemistry was mainly comfort, and it was a logical thing to desire such a comfort level. And i guess, everything about her made me want to DO, to please, to completely burn myself down. For her. She always appreciated me as i was, and i knew, that she was a passive lover - so, i liked her understated way of expression. Though, it left me wanting, sometimes - i am not the whiny type.. so, there. But then, her feeling wasn't strong enough to stay with me in my difficulties, to pull through.. so, there again. I understand, time isn't the greatest tool of attachment, or understanding.

EDIT: As for the one i love (..saying most would be redundant), a billion words won't suffice to tell all that's great about her. On the fly though, she is the most intelligent person i know.. even in fights, her intelligence is not lost; her logic is open endedly brilliant and she is equally receptive to suggestion, open to improvement. She is smart, an achiever; she is strong-willed, and can fight to win. She is beautiful, in the no-lipstick-no-nailpaint-needed way, in the fresh-outta-bed way, and every other way possible. She loves me.. which is something i NEVER really expected from a woman. AND she has a brilliant sense of humor. Of Her OWN! Rare all that, i tell ya!

What's that i hear you say..?!

Me?!

Chauvinistic pig, huh..!!?

Heh!..

3. What qualities should a significant other have?

(They should love you for who you are rather than who they feel you should be.)

- Ditto. Plus, she has to be driven by her brains, would be rather nice if she is presentable, well-mannered, and hygienic.

EDIT: Already found.. and she exceeds all that i could ever ask for.

4. Have you ever broken someone's heart?

(Probably.)

- More often than what could possibly be called a comfortable number..

NO EDIT

5. If there was one thing you could teach people about love, what would it be?
(In order for love to work, you have to give it everything you have. Doing so, however, can be very dangerous, so make sure you love yourself enough to survive it if things don't work out.)

- Other than the very important original answer, i'd say: Differentiate love from the desire to only attain a particular (relationship) status. Love with lust, with a desire to own, to possess, to live. Become animal, become passion itself, be violent, be a storm, be alive. Love, not for any secondary reasons, but for the reason that love would fill and overflow from any scope to have any reason.. make love as powerful as blinding fury, as primal as it always was. Conquer all inhibitions, lose yourself in your love to completely find your identity.

It is important to love for a million billion reasons.. but the most important reason is - affirmation of self.

NO EDIT

Note: I started to write this some two years ago. I planned to write it casually.. but then, i have a bad sense of humor, so i couldn't keep at it for long! It was a meme i picked up from Dave's blog (link in blogroll).
I have added edits, wherever i felt my 'present' has brought in change.

Superbstition

2009-04-18T00:58:00.015+05:30

Here's (a close translation of) my conversation with God, from near the beginning of my exams..

3rd April

Me: Holy God..! (..running my fingers over my head..) I need a haircut..*

5th April

Me: God, help me write Automatic Control** well and i'll go get a haircut for you..

God: ...

Me: Well.. you know, like when people go shave'em'selves bald and offer you their hair.. for wishes fulfilled. But of course, i'm smart. I realize you don't actually need the hair, do'ya..?! Heh..!

(..pause..)

Me: Do you..??

God: ...

Me: Well, i dunno.. anyway, i'll cut my hair. I'll trim it short, like you know i like it. It goes so well with my angular jawlin.. err.. i mean i offer you my hair. For a brilliant paper of Automatic Control.

God: ...

Me: Well, i'm not gonna do any actual 'offering' or 'giving'.. i'll just go get a cut. Only at "Capital Hair Palace".. heh!.. some Palace..!

God: ...

Me: ..and, and i'm gonna get that haircut anywhichway. You know.. i'm just saying, in exchange for a brilliant paper, i'll make YOU the reason that i'll groom myse.. err.. i'll make my haircut a nice'lil votive action.

God: ...

Me: You get the entire deal, right..?! Well just this Automatic Control paper and nothi.. well, i won't push it then.
Thanx..

I wonder how God must've felt about my prayer. How does she feel about all my prayers..?! I mean i make demands which are reasonable on a very very high plane of logic..
Does God know that i understand.. fully.. that no offering is more important than the intent to offer..??
No, seriously.. it is.

I'm not inherently a superstitious person. I do read my weekly horoscope, and it's mainly for fun.. it's like i have three zodiac signs to read into. Libra, which is my Moonsign, and Scorpio & Sagittarius - which are my Sunsigns (yes, i'm on a cusp). So with all the available choice, it becomes easy for me to choose which'll suit me best throughout the week.. plus, i am interested in a bit of Numerology too. When i encounter numbers - phone numbers, enrollment numbers, any of that stuff.. i always use combinations of operators to get a specific base number - a single digit (manipulated to be of my choice), which is either the sum or products or something, of all the digits. So basically.. i have a lot working to make me feel good!
I'm not superstitious about colors, clothes.. it's just a 'lil thing i have with my inner-wear. My chuddies, dear buddies.. to be specific.

I have noticed, that some specific brand goes about giving me the best performance - and it has got nothing to do with comfort. Like last to last semester, there was this black and red Hanes bikini-cut that made my papers go like steel ingots through tons of butter.. but that was then.
..this time'round, i have three different new brands. And Automatic Control happened to be the second paper i'd write. I deliberated a bit and tried my moss-green Levi's Strauss first. Which is my favorite in fit. You know, lycra and stuff..
Excellent paper..
Then my red-graphite Chromozome.
Excellent paper again!.. actually even better..!
..that was The Automatic Control paper.

I thanked Lord God for giving me enough sense to wear my Chromozome, and not screw things up.

For my third paper, i wake up in the morning, have breakfast, walk in for my bath, and notice that my Chromozome is on me. I panic.. see, i'd planned on replicating the last success. But now i'd have to wash my greatest tool..
..no, not that - you dirtbags. I meant the shield on my greatest tool - the Chromozome red-graphite.
I contemplated on not washing it and going to the exam in it. I mean, what's a 'lil unwashed underwear between your skin and your jeans.. heh!

So, i take my bath and while walking out all fresh like a bottle of champagne.. i see my shield, my red-graphite Chromozome - neatly folded, washed, in my hand.
..habit. Damn.

I calm myself down and walk in deciding to wear my moss-green Levi's.. and i see the light-gray Jockey, my old and faithful (although a bit loose), staring at me. It was almost begging for approval, for one shot at my trust, my love - from it's very fibre. Every gray strand of it. The black elastic was being supportive too.. like it has been, all this time - snug, tight.
I went for it - and may it be in record, that i wrote the most smashingly fabulous paper ever. Which is a result i duplicated for my fourth paper..

So, as i was saying.. i'm not much superstitious. Nothing affects me with fear, nothing scares me. I only have my gray Jockey hanging dry for the next paper.. it'll stay unused till then. I don't wanna be stuck without it, see it's like God'll help'em who uhh.. help'em selves. So, err.. i'll only be extending help to myself.

Superstitious..?! Who me..!??
Naaah.. never..!
:D

La Belle au Bois dormant.. almost!

* I'm not in the habit of doing that often.. i mean, i don't always run my fingers through my jet black sexy silky mane, although it totally is worth every swipe.

** Automatic Control - it is a Monster. That shit is thick, so fucking tough you couldn't put a bullet in the bitch.. *whew!* wait, i'll calm down. Okay.. so, Automatic Control is the most Goddamn fuckin' difficult paper in Mechanical Engineering after Math3 from the third Semester.
:D
It's an Electronics subject, with Bode Plots, Nyquist Stability criteria, Polar analysis and stuff. Nothing you can see, feel, sense.. very unlike the rest of the highly tangible Mechanical Engineering.

Fool

2009-04-02T05:07:00.005+05:30

Watching one movie that makes you cry in one day is okay.. but two in one night. Back to back.. that's the jackass thing to do - especially when you have exams in three days.
That'll give you (and even case-hardened guys like me) an ache in the chest.. and two movies later it's a knot so big in your throat, that the throat'tself feels like an overnight boy-scout camp.

And that only happens when you watch the movies AND relate to them. It's only when you are intensely involved.. only then. If you're in it for the popcorn - you'll miss the knotty moments..
I watched "If Only" first, and then "Marley and Me".. yes, i like my movies late, i know! Man, i thought the later would be like a cure for the first.. but oh..
It was like a rerun of watching "p.s. I Love You". Twice..

Don't miss the movies, and yes - watch'em with a gap of maybe a day between'em.

Plus, i notice, this is the first conversational piece (definitely won't come out right) i'm writing since after i effectively stopped writing. Ego, yes.. (that's a long story) so i thought it'll come churned better than this, but with a book of Industrial Management open on my pillow, this is the way it pours. Oh but the movies.. they just made me wanna tap away on these keys.

Why.. umm, well. Lemme see.

I don't know if this is true of everyone, but i try to find something beautiful in every movie that is practical and can be implemented, something i can learn.. almost. It can be a new word, a thought.. and oh, yes, i am only talking about the better class of movies here. Only the really really good ones. I find out how much, some character, an imaginary character even, anyone - can love. How they can be brave.. i tried learning from how Shrek is with Fiona.. how Po handles himself in Kung Fu Panda. It can be anything.. and it never comes from stereotypical David Dhawan movies, nothing with characters like Raj, Prem and Poo in it. Po yes, Poo NO..!
Heh heh..!
*snort!*
..okay, enough humor.

edit: Suggested by My Sherry..! :D

..it's 0325 hours, about fifteen minutes since i finished the movie. And everyone is sleeping. Srikant is sleeping ~~next~~ on the bed next to me.. my stomach is saying something in Swahili.. loudly - so i'll head to the kitchen to see if there're any tomatoes remaining, that'll go with a spoon of sugar!

Wait wait.. is just remembered last year's 1st. April. Heh..!

:D

..yes, she gave me hell for it. My girl..

No darling - i'm well. This April, i'm alive, more alive.. better than i ever was. And i wish to be well. Always..

..i'll study.

edit: Sugar yes, but no tomatoes in the kitchen. A chunk of leftover rice from dinner.. smelling slightly odd.
I just made me some tea. I guess liquids'll have to do!

Untitled

2009-03-20T03:48:00.002+05:30

*cough!!*

:D

Meme-ed

2009-02-08T00:46:00.047+05:30

1. Who was the last person of the opposite sex you lay in a bed with?

- There're forty four more questions to entertain you.. you piss brain fonkey ass maggots..!
Plus, i don't remember!
;)

2. Where was the last place you went out to eat?

- Blue Diamond, town outskirts. Us roomies & Pratyush.
First time ever, that alcohol made my steps sway.

3. What was the last alcoholic beverage you consumed?

- Apple flavored Shark Tooth. Vodka, very concentrated.. very nice.

4. Which do you prefer - eyes or lips?

- Lips. They taste better when deep fried..

5. Medicine, fine arts, or law?

- Engineering.
..from the choices, Medicine. I'm more of a science person

6. Best kind of pizza?

- Might sound cheap, but the Domino's Cheese Burst is heaven! They aren't gourmet, but the experience from serving most customers daily sure has paid off.

7. Is your bedroom window open?

- No. In India, there're mosquitoes..

8. What is in store for your future?

- Passion. Always.

9. Who was the last band you saw live?

- Huh..?!
Well, i was at Aarohi last year. I don't remember the bands that played.

10. Do you take care of your friends while they are sick?

- No. Not at all, i ditch'em all and i ditch'em good.
Whatta twerp.. of course i don't kick'em in the groin like that. Not only friends, i've ran out to the street in the middle of the night for people is didn't know.. and i'm proud i didn't deliberate.

11. What is your favorite soda?

- Carlsbe.. oh, Soda?! Well, that'll be Limca.

12. How many songs are on your iTunes?

- Above two hundred. And it isn't iTunes.. it's my cellphone. I don't have a computer.
..iFuckingTunes. Conceited bastards.

13. When was the last time you purchased something over 100 dollars?

- Let's see.. that'll be around half of ten grands in Indian currency. So, umm.. never. Oh wait wait, since it IS India, i purchased my education for a lot above 100 dollars.

14. Where is the last place you drove to?

- To College. Rode to College.. on my bike. To get my Admit Card for the exam.

15. Are you experienced?

- Sufficiently.
(Does this question have a sexual undertone?)

16. Any historical figures that you envy?

- No.
And why should i..?! No matter what they did - they're dead!
:D
*bruhahaha!*

17. What brand of digital camera do you own?

- Not yet. But i'm buying the Panasonic Lumix FZ 28 (edit: or the Nikon P90.)

18. When was the last time you got a good workout?

- Fifteen or so days ago. When we shifted the cooler into the room.

19. If you need a new pair of jeans, which store do you go to first?

- Shopper's Stop. If i'm gonna climb the ladder of success, i should be comfortable.. and i need to be presentable for when i get to the top!

20. Where did your last kiss take place?

- Months ago. When saying adieu to my lover..

21. What were you doing at 11:59 PM on Monday night?

- Talking to my Jewel.. man i don't even need to think about this one!

22. Are you a quitter?

- For bad habits and bad company only.

23. Who was the last person you had in your house?

- Fuck man.. i live with three of the strangest roommates hell could lease out.

And this guy shares the room with me..

24. Can you speak another language?

- Haan, hain, fuck, oui, ho.
(..i'm working on the last two!.. and the third is a language on its own.)

25. How about you put your legs behind your head?

- I'm an Indian. That yoga shit comes naturally to me, man..!

26. When was the last time you went dancing while under the influence?

- I can't dance otherwise.. otherwise, it's always unwise. But that was last New Year..
This however, is more recent.

27. Nickname?

- Doggy, Froggy, Scrapmetal, Shona, Atti, Bronzzy, Kutta (followed invariably by a longish 'saala').

(..i have a girlfriend. Plus, i have batshit crazy roommates.)

28. Describe what you are wearing in detail.

- Strazzi spects, Esprit timepiece, Mecca quarterpant, Renegade teeshirt, Jockey inners. I'm like a fuckin' supermarket mannequin!

29. What do you think about people who party a lot?

- Restricted form of enjoyment. Done excessively, nothing is fun.

30. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?

- Yes, i squirm.. i blush, i go red in my cute dimples, and i feel so err.. hott! Oh oh, and my butt cheeks clench involuntarily.. plus, my yin & yang goes mojo-jojo all over the place.
:))

31. Are you one of those people who obsesses over Hollister?

- I just had to Google this 'Holl..'stuff.

32. What was the last CD you purchased?

- It was a blank disc i bought, to write all the jazz i'd downloaded from uTorrent. But seriously, my last legit CD was a Phil Collins disc - nine years ago.

33. What are two bands or singers that you will always love?

- Tupac & Biggie Smalls.

34. Which of the seven deadly sins are you guilty of?

- I'm sure i'm clocking way more than seven now, but i'm particularly touched by lust.

35. Did you just have to Google the seven deadly sins to see what they were?

- I didn't bother, but now i think i will.. just to check.
Yep.. and i'm clocking pretty high on sloth, wrath, and pride too..!

36. Where is your favorite place to get coffee?

- Home. I like my coffee black, with preferably honey, or sugar.

37. Have you ever been offered a job?

- It's a Comedy of Errors.. but yes, more than once.

38. Have you ever stolen anything off a road?

- Yes. And i got my shit beat for it, by Mah.. i learned then, that it is called stealing, not borrowing, like my conscience soothed me into thinking!

39. When was the last time you dyed your hair?

- Never have. Never will.. uh, almost.

40. Whom was the last person you rode in a car with?

- My Sister.

41. Have you kissed somebody in the last 2 weeks?

- Srikant tried, but no.. though i wish, oh i so so wish. No, not him. I'm only wishing i was kissed..

42. Miss someone?

- Five lives.

43. How is your last ex doing?

- She is prolly' waking up from a nightmare of me choking her throat..! Heh.. nah, i wish i knew.. i hope she's doing well.

44. Is there someone you want to fight?

- I have a list. Remind me to post it sometime. Seriously..

45. Where would you rather be?

- With the only girl in this world.. my girl.

Baba Re, Baba Re, Baba Re, Baba Re, Ram-De-Baba, Ram-De-Baba

2009-01-13T01:09:00.029+05:30

Hi! Laxman here! V thought u would b takin part in the ppr presentation. This 'Ramdeobaba' experience was horrible. They made us sleep on the benches in their classrooms along with lots n lots of mosquitoes! Their arrangements was terrible & awful!
V met with that guy 4m KITS Ramtek.. The guy who wanted 2 take a snap with ya! Woh bol raha tha "Anamika nahi hote toh, may(Wardha) jata hi nahi!" :D
Really, the environment that BD & "BD Ki Kudya" provided was very much homely.
We are very tired. Arnab is sleeping and I'm desperately waitin 4 the train 2 arrive :(
p.s. We won no prizes!

Oh.. Really actually i was sufferin from malaria hence couldn come.. I ll join coll from monday.. Ok i guess u won the first prize there..

I think Monday is tomorrow, huh?
"We won no prizes", I said.
Malaria! Haha noughty girl on bed rest!
Get well soon.. B'bye!

- Msgscript of convo b/w Lux & Anamika.
After this Trip.. on the 13th. of August, 2008.

..and yet, We Went. WE WON..

(2nd. Prize - in Energize, an open hardware contest for alternative energy solutions for the future. 11th. Jan'09)

..moments.

To Die & Stay Alive

2008-12-28T06:06:00.006+05:30

Have you ever wanted to die for someone just so that, That someone would feel responsible for your death? Ever wanted to cease to exist, just so that your absence becomes the source of pain in someone's life? Or maybe die of a very very painful cause so that the anguish you went through would become a constantly proportionate pain in someone's life..??

These are the most depraved thoughts that can come to a Man. To a self actualized Man who believes in life.. in such a Man, howmuchever accomplished, intelligent, or sane he is, lies such a switch, which when flicked - can trigger such mammoth depravity. To a Man who delights in every sense, in every sensory perception, in every breath.. to a man, whose only proof of life is he himself, his own body.. it is the highest fall. Reaching such a depth, such a moral low is the greatest devaluation such a Man can suffer, in his own code of judgment.

But, such men have great resilience. Impossibly Great. They're unbreakable. Almost, of course. So, what is it, actually that brings any of them to such a trench? What may be so strong, so overpowering, so convincing, that, from a Man of such living, can momentary snuff out the light of life.. the desire to live at all..?
A matter of what magnitude exactly, can make a Man want to cause himself and that 'another' someone, so much pain? What amount of pain can such a matter originally contain? How much can that someone mean, such that a man is driven into such a state of desperation..?

If only we knew..

Fair & Lovely

2008-12-13T12:16:00.002+05:30

I was watching the box.. and there was this ad.. this, this advertisement. Fair & Lovely.
The man, kinda good looking, is sitting there, down on the couch.. in walks the good-looking gir.. uh, woman. She says this sultry, throaty "Hi.." and the man loses his words for a moment. His jaw drops and after his speechless moment, his attention subconsciously goes to his own tummy.. which is overflowing from over his belt buckle! He sucks it in.. the paunch. Then there's this story line - the man is so affected by her beauty, he starts to work out, stops using the elevator, starts to jog. The works..
And finally, all fit like a bag'ov billion bucks, he comes to meet her! She sees him and repeats that throaty "Hi.." twice.

Allegedly, he does all this to get her. Also he wants to get her because she is very good looking, and obviously she is good looking, because she uses "Fair & f'ing Lovely"..! The reasoning with all the fairness, skin color and stuff is funny, of course.. but I also thought the whole pulling in the paunch, and working to live up to her beauty pretty laughable!

..it was then, that i sat up to stretch a bit. It hurt.. of course, my pectorals hurt. Immediately, i realized my foolishness and all related human foolishness, my stupidity for laughing, everything. Just everything..! I laughed - i am going to the gym. I am going to the gym to get into shape. Into better shape. Also, i'm wanting to be in better shape because i love my girl. I want to be better for her, it's all for her - the need to be fit, the need to be excellent, the need to be good to her touch. The need to have her approbation, the need to see the glint in her eyes!

Therefore, it's all for myself.

None of us are all that different, deep down. Our needs, what drives us.. it's all in a pattern. We're coded.. after all, the essence of life in everyone, spouts from the same artesian..

And it still hurts! Plus i'm sleepy..
*yawn!*

:D

Wounds

2008-10-13T23:10:00.003+05:30

*
"Why is it so that though the wounds have healed,
The skin still hurts with every caress,
The memories have dulled, and no love stays,
Yet I often wake up with d name on my breath.
Move away from a mirror,
Does the image not vanish,
Make a foot print in the snow, will it not fade in days,
Then why is it so, that in a world full of change... the pain of lost love is the only thing that stays?"
*

Some scars, immaterial of their depth, never heal - it's usually not the nature of the scar or the wound which hampers recovery; it's almost always the nature of the person bearing the scar...

The euphemism here is to show that it's not the love, but the feelings and sense of belonging that's lost from the heart and mind - it still hurts - not due to new feelings, but because of feelings lost or feelings repressed.
Emotions dull and fade, but leave memories and therein lies the difference between a mirror, or say nature AND the human psyche. Mirrors and Nature only display truth - it's only when a human attains nirvana: through mostly knowledge - does a human transcend such feelings.
For people caught up in Maya, however, truth is a concept, a controversial proposition... thus and there, enters the concept of pragmatism: wherein a person relies on logic, when in the dearth of knowledge.
When realization dawns on the ethereal concept of 'Change', in lieu of sitting and crying for an answer, a wise man looks for answers and explanations.

Applying all this to reality, the heart (which resides in the mind) will continue to remember lost love - a wise person will remember it to gain perspective, and to learn about life whereas the less wise will remember it to mull over it and ask unanswered questions.
None must forget the past, but moving on is important - with a smile, because things can always be worse.
The key to happiness is not the absence of unhappiness or bad times, but it is the presence of ability to contemplate and wriggle out of unhappy situations, to be friends with humor and find it in the darkest hour. Even in the wise there are those who are sensitive and special; they're affected - but desist from displaying their scars - they are hurt; but they know and realize that people grow. People learn and grow continuously, we evolve and love. Now love is ultimately a more organized, mature and understanding form of the historic lust... it's not a once in a lifetime feeling, if it was, we'd be a world full of singles! Love is so basal, so primal that you can tune and control it from thousands of years of honing - basically meaning, if you allow yourself to, you can fall in love again, and again, and so on and so forth! It's only a matter of allowing yourself, and after you've done that, it's only a matter of the psyches of the couple in love that judges whether the love will blossom and survive against memories - or it'll fail. Sometimes, though rarely, love the second or third time is more mature, and it grows to be 'The Love' of the couple's lives - they weigh memories against it, but the bond of love is so strong that it outweighs every doubt, every difficulty... but when effort, nurturing and attention lessens - love fails once more, once again an old scar deepens, a new wound forms… this re-enforces apprehensions towards love on whole.

Love needs to be rekindled... let yourself be in love, and it'll take care of you and take care of itself.

This is a mail i'd written long ago, when asked to analyze the text message starred at the very beginning. (..yeah, i mostly write clinically, only logic and analysis..) Around Aug'06. I didn't know then, how true, and how wise my words were. How correct they are.
God truly has a grand sense of humor..!

Wild Things

2008-09-24T03:06:00.001+05:30

Me: You know.. i'm an Aminal Lover..

*pause*

Sh: ..aisa..?!
Me: Uh.. yeah, and you know there was a slight word play there, you know.. animal.. and then..
Sh: Heh..!! Was there, now??
Me: C'mon! You know..
Sh: Do i..??
Me: Well, don't you?
Sh: Do you doubt?.. that i got your 'word play' the first time..??!!
Me: Well, umm.. no! I knew you probably thought the other 'Animal Lover', the moment i said it..!
Sh: Heh..!

...(after a while)...

Me: By the way, when i said that, i actually started out meaning that i love anima..
Sh: YEAH RIGHT..!!
Me: What?!?! Really, belie..
Sh: Yeah Right..!!!
Me: Aaaarghhh!! Bhag yahaan se! I'm telling you.. i started out meaning that i love animals.. it's just that, by the time i finished saying it, it hit me..!!

*pause*

Sh: Yeah Right..!!

Heh..!! Sometimes, it's fun, how truth just slips out in devious ways..!
Rrrrr..!!

BizzyBizzy

2008-09-21T01:30:00.002+05:30

The post below, and these photos will give an idea of why i'm so caught up these days.. a tentative member of Irregular Bloggers Anonymous.

Telos - Our Mech. Body (OMEGA) Function.

(..held in the dingy Engg. Drawing Hall of 1st. Yr.)

ISTE Debate.

ISTE Freshers Welcome.

EDIT (add): ISTE Installation.

(The 'edited photo that was sent to the newspapers.)

Dirt

2008-09-11T22:18:00.003+05:30

I was once told, by a moderately wise person, that to hold certain conversations.. of certain types actually, you have to be very comfortable, sexually.. and of course, you have to be absolutely wise, to be able to crack silly jokes..

Sample Conversation 1.
(0200hrs 11th. Sep.08)

Me: (..in a moment of affection..) You know, if i was a homosexual, i'd select you as my partner..
Lux: Heh! Kuch bhi.. you asshole.
Me: No really.. though you are pretty dark.
Lux: ..uh, i actually think black and white go well together.
Me: WHA..?! Whaddaf..
..etc.

Sample Conversation 2. >> Vulger Alert <<
(Late noon, some date May.08)

Me: ..but i never even found out that she was pregnant! Now she has a kid..?! Damn!
Dharma: Yeah, but why the hell should she tell you that she is pregnant?! Ain't it enough, whoever got her pregnant, knows?
Lux: Why the fuck are YOU so interested??
Me: ..no no, i mean, i thought you guys had the hots for her.

..in a while..

Dharma: Guys, maybe we should start to get milk every morn.. you know, for breakfast..
Lux: Let's kidnap her..
Me: Wha..?! Why??
Lux: She's milking, isn't she? I mean, she just gave birth.
..etc.

Sample Conversation 3. >> Vulger Alert <<
(Evening, some date Aug.08)

Me: ..heh! Your hairy-ass tits go all tight red and blushy whenever i'm around! You deviant pig..!
Lux: Kutta Sala! I'll hammer in two nails on nipples, and use'em as clothespins.. i'll hang my denims on your right this, this.. (..pointing.) and my tee-shirt on that. (..pointing again.)
Me: Heh! ..and?!
Dharma: Hey, how'bout for your sweaty vest??
Lux: Yeah, for that, i'll tap his dick, and when it's all worked.. i'mna hang my vest on it.
Me: Why tap it?! A blowjob would work just fine..!!
Lux: You fucking prick..!
..etc.

Sample Conversation 4.
(Morning, 09th. Sep.08)

Me: Imagine, if all plant life had the power to punish human beings for rudeness, crime, you know.. the stuff.
Lux: Yeah, now that'll be nice! Imagine, keeping a plant at Bansode's office..! Everytime he'll even start to yell at a student, he'll see the plant, and..
Me: Heh! Yeah, a well placed cana to smack sense into him.. but hey, for the Principal..?!
Lux: Yeah, yeah, i was expecting this!
Me: No! Fo'real.. we'll just keep a cactus under his seat - everytime he mentions his PhD., the cactus will simply..
Lux: Ouch!! ..heh!
..etc.

..and we're not obscenely Calvin-Hobbes-ish just between the few of us.

Sample Conversation 5.
(Bangalore; Noon, some date Aug.08)

Me: Wo! Look at that Dustbin.. they must've wanted to show that the Rabbit is holding it, but hey! Don't it look like the Rabbit's humping the bin?!
Sh: No! You rascal.. it's cute. You're just nasty.. it's it's, it's amazing how far your thoughts go.
Me: No! Honest..! Look, see how the Rabbit is holding it.. so intimately, so tight. Oh..!
Sh: Buzz off!
...
Me: Okay, okay..! But you know, what the product of a Rabbit humping a dustbin, would be??
Sh: Please! Don't enlighten me..!
Me: Rabbit plus Dustbin equals Rabbin..
Sh: *raised eyebrow!*
Me: *lunatic laugh!*

(Image courtesy: Adharshila Potteries :D )

That's the way we are.
Almost Dirt..!

Edit: Found this in a Gas Station - while refueling in Gondia.

Going With the Wind

2008-09-02T12:15:00.001+05:30

"You're a heartless creature, Scarlett, but perhaps that's part of your charm." He smiled in his old way, one corner of his mouth curving down, but she knew he was complimenting her. "For, of course, you know you have more charm than the law should permit. Even i have felt it, case-hardened though i an. I've often wondered what it was about you that made me always remember you, for i've known many ladies who were prettier than you and certainly more clever and, i fear, morally more upright and kind. But, somehow, i always remembered you."

- Gone With The Wind (Margaret Mitchell)

..i've often wondered what makes certain men like women of lesser or no virtues. I've often wondered why some men hurry themselves into a relationship (often short-lived) with just about the first girl they lay their eyes on. If love is actually the most wonderful affirmation of ego, of pride, of one's rights, beliefs, values, standards etc. and of what one thinks he deserves - then why walk into trash?!

Oh i know..! Once upon a time, i walked into trash!
Yes, yes.. mea culpa!!

:D

Edit: Some other good bits off the 'immortal love epic'..

"I love him," she thought and, as always, she accepted the truth with little wonder, as a child accepting a gift. "I don't know how long how i've loved him but it's true. And if it hadn't been for Ashley, i'd have realized it long ago. I've never been able to see the world at all, because Ashley stood in the way." "

..i've been foolish in the same way. I'd know.

" His somber gaze went past her and in his eyes was the same look she had seen in the light of the flames the night Atlanta fell, when he told her he was going off with the retreating Army - the surprise of a man who knows himself utterly, yet discovers in himself unexpected loyalties and emotions and emotions and feels a faint self-ridicule at the discovery."

..i know the jury is out on me. It'll be that way for a while.. but i can comfortably say - i know that self-ridicule, the mocking.. while discovering myself continuously. Self is more surprising than life.

..the thousand miles.

2008-08-23T00:02:00.000+05:30

It is always a nightmare to undertake a journey for a place, with which so much pain is associated.. that a mere look outside the train window feels like a knifestab. Is there an antidote to bad memories??

No, really. I'd need it, if it existed.
'Cuz no matter how many good things keep happening, no matter how much i look at what i have, it's not easy to even try to forget. How can one forget anywhichway? I mean, were it a whiteboard, i'd wipe out so much more.. but as the ol'saying goes, Vision is a gift of God. Every vista i see, should therefore be a gift, but therein lies the catch. Because with every uncluttered vista that the eye drinks in, starts the vicious process of association.. the villain called memory shifts in.
Yet, we undertake such journeys. Not for anyone else, but ourselves. For better memories.

For fond memories.
Thank you, my heart.. for memories so fond, that any random single second out of it can make me smile out a lifetime of resentful thoughts.. any.

Le casse-pieds

2008-08-13T11:32:00.003+05:30

It is important to have an understanding girlfriend - when you fall asleep on a call with her, after you've spent a night like this.

..and finally, sleeping on benches..

Thank God.

Oh, p.s. - I'll not be going to RamdeoBaba Kamlanehru Coll. of. Engg. anytime soon.. where the organizers yell, and where when we inquire about food, they tell us that they themselves haven't had food for days.
Man..!

..achievements..

2008-08-08T21:22:00.001+05:30

(..the circular, indicating the structure of ISTE Students Chapter '08-'09..)

Often we get what we want or deserve, often not. Sometimes we realize what we want and deserve after we achieve it. Thank you, to the exceptional majority that voted in favor of the outcome - my roommates who nominated me; my classmates, who supported; and the excellent body which has been constituted.

Think. Work. Enjoy.

p.s. This was on Orkut.. right now!! (approx 2050hrs)

Surprise

2008-07-24T00:57:00.001+05:30

..there is some certain magic about surprises, especially if the person at the recieving end believes in magic.

(edit 0300 - 31/07/08 : It is receiving, not recieving, as corrected by Dushka, here. Thank you..!)

Jaune

2008-07-03T02:23:00.003+05:30

It was the 6th. of May when i finally got my Bilirubin tested. It happened of course, after much persuasion from my roommates, and after the Docs advised it. The Docs here, are Pratyush's Dad and Sherry's Ma.. of course.
Levels, i was told, were moderately high, at 4.91 for Bilirubin, and above 700 for both SGOT & SGPT.

I had vomited some five times during the night of third and fourth, and medicines started on fifth. I was as sick as a man without a liver. Eyes as yellow as two low-power incandescent bulbs.. no, i did not lose my shine, yet. Any liquids i excreted, since i'm allowed to include the details here, was not yellow anymore - but something closer to the Orange of a Sunset.
By Seventh, i was a wreckage. Finally, after eight years, my health had failed me. Eighth passed by like a nightmare too. Little did i know, that my body was to go through more depredation, more ravage.

It was, then ninth.
The day of my exam - i was writing my last paper of Sixth Semester - Machine Drawing. My favorite of sorts, in the entire half year. I was, as advised, carrying my own water bottle, with glucose.
Just eight minutes before the paper ended, my invigilator - Miss Monica Badgujar, a female teacher of my own department - Mechanical, came and snatched my paper off me. I was, at that time, drawing my conventional representations of an isometric view on the left top corner of my drawing sheet. Apparently, i should've tied up my drawing sheets to my answer booklet. Dazed, i ask for my papers, explaining, that it is my choice when i tie up my answer booklet and drawing sheet, the warning bell is to tell me that i would not be given extra time.. after all, precious time was being wasted. My demand was refused, and i was informed that i'll be given five extra minutes for my trouble if an authority allowed me to write on.
The in-charge of examinations walked in and rebuffed me for arguing with my invigilator.. he gave me my sheets, and i started to draw again. This time, with my answer sheets tied up. I was tired, and i didn't want any trouble in a topic i loved.

When the final bell rang, i kept drawing, knowing i had five more minutes.. but just then, this teacher swoops onto my desk, and snatches my paper the second time - as if to tear it off.
By instinct, i latched onto my paper, and just when i was about to ask for the promised five minutes, she swung at my face. Her fingers brushed my eye and my glasses fell off, hooked at her fingers. Stunned, i stood and she took the opportunity immediately to tear off my paper. Automatically again, i brushed her hand away and caught her preparing to hit again - this time, i tried to block her swinging arm. Block it i did.
I dropped my pen, and walked out to complain.

The man i complained to, Mr. Tiwari, walked in and asked her what happened. Stupefied by his presence, and my prompt complaint, she took a contemplative moment to decide and told him that i had hit her in return. The case went to the Head of our Institution - obviously leaning towards the teacher. She agreed that she hit me, and accused me of hitting her back. Till when witness students said that i didn't hit back, she was bluntly telling authorities, that she had hit me and i, her. When the predicament of my health was revealed to the Head, he simply switched statement, that the teacher had told him, in her last statement, that i held her hand in an indecent way. Even in my fatigue, i laughed at the absolute lack of sense with which our Head of Institution, Dr. S.S. Rathod was handling this situation. With nothing to clutch me with, i was let go till summoned further.

That evening, after what seemed to be a considerable effort for my Principal, i was called to his office, and i was asked to sign on a form meant to punish students for use of unfair means.. i staggered a 'lil. Why, i asked him in his face, should i sign a form implicating me in use of Unfair Means during exams?! In reply, i was threatened with the promise that if i didn't sign, the form would be sent with only my name and the authorities would write what ever they wanted, on it. That meant a year lost.
Had my skull been less strong, it would've imploded. I was tired, weak, so much maybe for the first time - and this had to happen right now. Consulting my roommates, i decided i won't sign the form, and would fight simply 'cuz i was right.

Most probably rankled, my Principal finally asked me, the next day to write on a Stamp Paper, that i would not repeat what i'd done. Prepared to not write anything such, i went to my local guardian, Pratyush's Aunt - Advocate Archana Pande, who we affectionately call 'Mausi'.
She reached our college with a politician, Mr. Chaube. In a few more minutes, she brought things close down to how it should've been. When she wrote to the college, on my behalf, that "..the incident of 9th. would not be repeated..", i was tired, and signed it, when Mausi said, that the lady teacher was shameless and characterless enough to say, that if i pressed charges against her, she would state that i had held her hand as an indecent gesture.. i said that i would fight those charges, but my Principal already had a clinical response ready for that - i'd then be awarded a 'Red Corner' Transfer Certificate. Which would effectively end my entire academic journey.

Appalled, disgusted and amazed by the collusive depravity of a lady teacher and the Head of the Institution, i signed; wondering, almost hoping that this was the end of this incident.
By now, i had lost track of time. Returning home, i found that it was only the next day - the Tenth.

By Sixteenth, i was feeling a lot better, though jaundice still raged mildly within me.. i was on a controlled diet, my eyes still spoke of the bile in my blood. Almost, was i completely prepared for my exam on the day and by the end of it, i'd written it well. I began to prepare for my last Fifth Semester back-paper on the Eighteenth of May, 2008.

After writing another fabulous paper, i was returning through the burning Eighteenth Sun, at around 1315, as Srikant rode us home. Just near home, and as if in satire - only twenty feet from the Gayatri Temple, fifteen men attacked us. With only a preamble that roughly translates, minus expletives, to "You, how dare you complain against my sister." From behind, i was hit with a brick on the back of my head the moment i saw the first face. I don't remember much after that, 'cuz i collapsed like a card-house, with my two hands covering my head and a brick attempting to find space through my hands to hammer into my skull. Right then i saw a knee drive into my right eye, and i lost balance and toppled on my back. I heard a soft far off voice, that translates to "..kill him.." All the blood in my eye prevented me from seeing what was going on, but after what seemed like an eternity, i was on the ground, in the fetal position, with some scant people crowded around. My roommate was picking me up, and when i started to help myself to my feet, i looked around - only one eye. The other was shut so tight that even the desire to open it caused pain. A nearby juice vendor lent me a mug of water to wash off the initial blood off my face and head. It, however didn't stop to bleed.
While drops of jaundiced blood trickled off my neck and forehead, which i was mistaking for sweat, i decided to go to the Police before i went to the hospital. It was a good decision.

After i, along with my roommates - Srikant and Laxman as immediate witnesses, got the First Information Report penned to the Police, i got eight stitches on one of the two lacerations on the back of my head. My eye was left as it was. I also had a fractured rib and a numb nose, in the middle of it all (due to a damaged nerve at the nose bridge).
When finally, i could open my right eye to a slit, i looked myself up in the mirror - my right yellow eye was now vermilion from the internal hemorrhage in my eyeball; my left eye was simply yellow. My first right rib hurt every time i breathed. My hair was thickly matted with blood.. so much that a rusty powder kept dusting off from it every time i tried to sleep. My arms bled at four different places, my left ring-finger was inflamed from the brick blow on it, fortunately, my skull had survived the three blows from the same brick. I was told that vomiting and dizziness would follow from any brain damage, so as of then i was safe.

(Evidence Images - Left: Injured, and at the Hospital. Anything red, is blood. Right: The 8 stitches.)

My case proceeded, and then came the apology of the parents of the guys we could identify amongst the fifteen. Vijay Badgujar, a.k.a. Golu, the brother of the lady teacher from the incident at college on 9th. May, turned out the prime accused - the guy with the brick.. he sat there and apologized for a crime committed. With him, sat Pravesh Bisen - equally guilty. Golu confessed that his sister had provoked him into going ahead with this assault and battery. We were asked, by the parents, to settle to a compromise with the boys (all younger to me and my roommates). Refusing in intent, we gave further testimony, and as of now, the case stands.
After absconding a day or two, the boys finally posted bail, for their troubles.

While i recuperated, from various contusions, while the open and stitched wounds healed, whenever Pratyush's Dad checked my skull for a fracture with his expert fingers, i realized how fortunate i was - to have NOT received any fatal injuries. I thanked my own faculties for the hands i cupped my head with, for deciding to go to the Police immediately. When i slept, my head ached from not only the injuries, but from the feeling of not having been able to do anything on the spot. I realized, and kept realizing, how important it was, to have a loved one around, how important it was to have my roommates around.

I have written this only as an account of what happened.. because i wish to remember this in exact detail. One must NEVER forget. This is not to incite pity, sympathy.. i've attempted to keep emotions out of this, except for when it was an emotion i wish to remember.
I simply want to remember this.
Oh, and i want this to be nearly an explanatory note to the people who i’ve not been in touch with – honestly, i didn’t want to, i didn’t feel like it.

Thank you Srikant, Laxman, for being a support more that any truss could possibly be. You've not stepped out even in things most people would've become unavailable to.
Thank you Dharma, for your care.
Thank you Sherry, for believing that i'm unbreakable, ~~for always standing by a piece of scrapmetal.~~ for always standing by YOUR piece of scrapmetal. (edited - 0126hrs 07/07/08)

Last but most, thank you Pratyush, Uncle, Aunty, Mausi, and Dadi.. the people who've made it possible for me to regain health, and above it - my dignity.

..till the Honeymoon lasts..

2008-06-22T20:26:00.008+05:30

**

On their second anniversary, Bob asked his twenty three year old wife if she had any regrets.

"Yes," she answered. "I should have married you the day you first proposed."

"You're together all the time," said Bernie once when he was up from Yale Law to visit. "Don't you ever - you know - get bored?"
"No," said Bob. "What makes you ask?"
"I mean, i sometimes get bored after two or three dates."
"Then you just haven't met the right girl yet."
"Shit, Beckwith, you're a really lucky bastard."
"Yeah, i know it."

- Erich Segal (Man, Woman and Child)

**

..beautiful, isn't it..?!

Conjugal happiness must be difficult.
It is after all an effort required outside of blood relationships.. in which the cultures of two different families clash. Or merge. It could be either. Yet, people make efforts. They try to make it work. Sometimes the efforts fall short of what is requisite. Apathy sets in, and in a short while, antipathy reigns. Hurtful words are blurted out, first as a thoughtless slip of tongue, later it is snidely slipped into conversation. Maybe in its final stages, everything is done with vehement purpose; love, if it ever was, is lost.

When marriages are arranged, the relationship is almost contractual (..well, in most cases at least..), it is an arrangement of benefits. Mutual, of course. Love, when it does blossom in these cases, is a blessing to the relationship. Otherwise, the contract is honored, not because of love, but because such is stipulated in the society. When even these marriages break down, the couples sometimes go through therapy/counseling - but can love ever equal comfort? Is it not a lot like keeping an old pajama because it's such a comfort to sleep in it?!
Yet, 'liking' is startlingly and curiously similar to love. Then come the marriages made in heaven, the love marriages that is.. well, until they fall apart, that is! To use a cliche, it is a honeymoon while it lasts.. and frankly, very few can make it last. Love probably happens at first sight, that's right!.. or gradually, after a lot of time has been spent in togetherness. But the worst illusion anyone can suffer, is the illusion of being in love. It is so so possible that a person thinks that (s)he is in love, but is only in 'liking'.

I know, i've been in 'liking' with many girls, they all had something that held value to me, some trait, maybe their intelligence, their smile, their body. Anything. Fortunately for me, i learnt to distinguish between the 'liking' and love, early on. I saw friends enter relations based solely on the fact that they liked each other, and hoped to 'grow into loving each other'.
Good Luck, mayb it works, maybe it doesn't. Yet, entering matrimony with just a liking will probably let it last only as long as lust stays. Then rather than saying - 'it was a honeymoon while it lasted', we'd say, 'it lasted till it was the honeymoon'.

Very logically, connubial life can't be based solely on physical attraction, on infatuation.. neither solely on love. So is love marriage good, or is arranged marriage better?

I was hoping that i could leave this inconclusive. Mostly because present societal trends, the statistics, indicate that neither is better off.

But, discordant that i am, i gotta say love marriage is better. Not only so that when you mess up, you only have yourself to blame, but also for the better reason that if, If, and only IF it is actually really truly true love, then nothing can go wrong after marriage. The problem is, finding true love. You can go an entire lifetime without finding one, or you could find more than one. The trick is to know who is right. Which is a tough trick, 'cuz you can't perfect it. Far from it, you can't even practice. If you never find love, you either die very happy or very unhappy. You let go of yourself with the first love you find, and you wait for it to work. Good when it lasts a lifetime. Or your love doesn't become yours, and you die unhappy. Or if the Gods smile down on you, you keep walking, and encounter love again.. then, if rancor, spite and hatred haven't taken over your mind, you take that cautious step towards letting this love materialize. Again. I only wonder, what happens to those living in the sixth and seventh sentence of the last section, the last paragraph.
..let's see.

But, And and But

2008-06-19T15:48:00.000+05:30

Not that i put too much thought into my writing, (..heh, that aught'ta show!) but i was taught, or rather learnt, certain rules i follow, when i write.
For one, i try to punctuate correctly. I also try to separate what i write into neat 'lil paragraphs. I've also never resorted to the messaging type of language, like "C u @ 5. Tk cr." Plus, i hold on to some of my flaws. I still like to put the quotes after the fullstop.. which, i'm now sure is correct, and my English teacher - Miss Borisova was, with due respect, incorrect. I recognize that inexpensive isn't cheap, and other such fine details of language.
I have at times, however, been guilty of spelling quiet as quite, angel as angle, and liar as lair.. the last one, i agree, is the farciest of'em all. That happened while chatting with a fabulous (and witty, might i be allowed to add) female friend. I know i spell like shit, i'm a wordage cat-ass-trophy. Sea?! I meen, realy.
It also took me some time to grasp the dynamics of punctuating the vicinities of 'when', 'where', 'which', et cetera.

However, i'm still not too sure about the use of 'and' and 'but' to start sentences. I mean, i'm reading one of those smaller entertaining Segals - Man Woman and Child. This guy has a thing going, with the 'and's and 'but's..

"And then he told her everything."
(..dramatic, i know!)

"But he was afraid."
(..almost as good!)

If i'm not mistaken, these words can solely be used to carry on from one idea to another WITHIN A SINGLE SENTENCE. I know, when i feel like using an 'and', after i've almost completed my sentence, i used an ellipsis. A fractured one, i confess.. like that. So isn't that the way, shouldn't we use 'however's, 'thus's, 'therefore's, et cetera, rather than the bourgeois 'but's, 'and's and 'because's to start sentences.

Maybe not.
While i read this, it's like reading something in flow. My Sherry writes like this, and she writes fab. Will Stanton wrote like this too, so did Robert Froman, Larry Batson, Art Buchwald, Thomas Bolton, James Thurber, Graham Porter, Erma Bombeck, Lawrence Elliot and Fred Sparks..! (..yes, i just looked into one cool book to check'em all!) Plus, these guys are the absolute geniuses in prose, the craftsmen of humor.
Who, in this filthy rotten Earth, am i to question them.

Therefore, i now decide to use lots of 'but's to open sentences. And 'and's too. Because it is so liberating to use language in a flow..!

Me Go Now. Guten Nacht.
:D

Whattt..!?

2008-06-18T03:52:00.001+05:30

Yesterday, my Mah said something amazing.. and nearly ridiculous, of course.

"..life'e shobai nijer 'ullu seedha' kore.."
("..in life, everyone 'straightenes their own owl'.." Where, 'straightening your own owl' is idiomatic Hindi for something like 'caring only for self' or 'working only for selfish benefit'.)

The conversation precipitated into her giving me examples, like how a man who would want to complete education, is doing it only so that he can have a stable future with a good job, a wonderful lifestyle, or why a girl would like a juicy career only for her benefit and security. Everything, after all, is motivated by money.

..or so she'd have me believe. Well, in a rather circuitous way, that may be how people generally behave, but EVERYBODY..?! C'mon, ain't possible!

Isn't there a chance, i reasoned, that a man wanting to earn more, is wanting thus for his family? So that his family is better off, so that they have it easy?! Couldn't a girl wanting that lush career, want it so as to contribute to her family? So that she is working towards making life better for the people connected to her..?!
I told her as much.

"No."

It was my turn to frown; i probably react like that, silently, whenever my disputant fails to acknowledge logic, reason, chance.

"That isn't why they earn," Mah continued, "..that is never the reason why people do anything for their families.. it is just for themselves. They earn so that they can feed their families, it is just a responsibility. They know full well that this family, out of responsiblity, will take care of him in the times to come."

'Wow!' was my only mental reaction, as i turned away from the conversation, disgusted with my faculties for being not able to defend my stand against her logic.
Too bad.

Of course, i later slept and thought, what if that is the underlying thought, for every action. Was 'self-preservation' not the greatest instinct? ..responsible for keeping us alive?? It is logical. Maybe we all are working this way, maybe we all only want our own individual gain.
Then what about all the lovers? Ask myself. What about those who end their lives when torn apart from only their love? Their only love? What about mothers who thin away into death when their children die? Are they exceptions to the rules, or are the statistics of such cases too insignificant? I myself couldn't answer these very cogently.

Interestingly enough, and, of course, not as an aside - some Pandit on a news channel was telling his viewers, which relations love most.
Yeah, just that.
..sort'a like, a "Who Would Cry When You Die" list, in descending-order.

It turns out, as per our scriptures (..Hindu, mind you..) that a Mother more than a brother, more than a daughter, more than a wife, more than finally a son would cry.
Confusing?! Read again.

:P
..three women in that list, only two men.

Wait a p.s. second.. that means, my daughter'd lament my death more'an my wife?!?

Hmphf..! Women..

F#ck..!

2008-06-13T13:43:00.003+05:30

Jolly : "..uh, dude.. excuse me, we always sit here. Will you please..?.."

Bully : "Yeah?! Well i'm sitting here now."

Jolly : "I see that, we're two people.. so can you..?.."

Bully : "Uh, no."

Jolly, was.. no no, scratch that.. is. Yeah, Jolly is my friend. Simple that. He's just this six feet four inches of lanky attitude (..yes, the only one which could gimme a verbal ass-whupping, anyday, anytime.) He was so full of attitude, we never knew a second when he wasn't cool.. and when he was cool, we was cool!..
..except for when he got angry, which was rare, but that's for later.

Jolly, though i haven't met him for more than a couple'ov years, is the kind'a guy you never let go of.
Loyal to friends, cool to the hilt, rotten to the core.

I don't have a count of the number of people we verbally massacred in our canteen and para-canteen hours of college. We were like Snoop & Dre, like Hansel & Gretel.. orrr, maybe not that - more like.. like Starsky and Hutch. Aaanyway, we travelled together, he used to yell out his phone number to me, whenever he'd get off the bus and keep yelling for me to call - hoping, some fly chick would scribble it down furiously and call HIM.. like a woman possessed.
I remember telling him once, that it would really need a woman to be possessed, to call him like that. He knew.

"It's like you'll never win against me in Basketball, but you never stop trying!.."

..the bastard.
Anyway, he was a devil at the hoops. When we used to play half-court, he stood in one place under the net, swivelled on one foot to clear a touch outside the key, and without jumping, threw to basket. If he missed, HE caught the rebound, and repeated the entire exercise till HE scored. Frustrating, i tell ya..

We never went to any discs together, we never shot pool idly.. we never smoked together, which was 'cuz i didn't smoke, and he mostly didn't have enough resources to finance a RizLa. I also remember wanting to gift him a pack of Davidoff for his birthday.. now i don't even remember when it is, except for maybe it's in June.
Well, in the nearly three years of our college, we never had a fight. Between the two of us, that is.. and when it was this 'lil incident at the college cafeteria (read: canteen), we was like John Travolta (or must i say 'Chili Palmer') in "Get Shorty".

Jolly : *walks up to the seat, puts his only notebook on it* "Okay, i did ask you nicely, you piece of curly haired shit.. now i request you to save Anna^ the trouble of cleaning up this fucking canteen if i bust your ass right here. Move."

Bully : *slightly dazed by Jolly's length & tone* "You think you're some bully or wh.."

Jolly : *calmly* "No MotherFucker. I'm the Bullla, big fat thick one.. and if you act like a cork in the ass, i'll chop your 'lil bully off of you and shove it up yo.." *turns to me, smiling*softly* "Arnaaab?! ..why don't you tell this dumbfuck here that i'll kill him within two minutes on my Swatch."

Me : *to bully* "He would, you know. Just move over to some other seat man.."

Bully : *mumbling, moves*

Jolly : "What's that, you motherf..??!"

Bully : "Nothing" *both his palms up near his chest, after he arranged his knapsack*

..

Me : *to Jolly* "You know, Jolly.. you bullied him."

Jolly : *yelling for a Mangola^^ & a sandwich* "No, you #%@+.. this seat belongs to us. Just us..!" *grins smugly* "Have your drink."

Too bad, i later discovered that Jolly wasn't angry throughout the entire performance, and that the guy was a year junior to us. I felt very low for having been there, while a freshman went through that, for having went through sense and sand getting rubbed into that 'my-dad-is-rich-so-may-i-be-excused' face of his.
I, at least, more than made up for it when during our last months at Wilson, we walked into canteen, more mature than we ever were.. and right there, while sipping on my Mangola, i saw this guy staring at me with this smile on his face.
I smiled back. He turned around and laughed out with all his friends. I exploded..

..i only said 'more mature', i never said we were completely mature.

Somewhere in the middle of me slashing this guy and his entire clique with words, and threatening to crack his spine - Jolly joins in, helping, with the little things he always knew when to say.
Like, "So..?!", when this guy told us he was in TYBA^^^..
The guy piped down. Obviously. He and his 'group', those monkeys, left..

I remember this, and so much more, like him buying me "Fatafat"^^^^, even when he would've loved a smoke. Like us taking Rashmi's case about the Black Mitsubishi Lancer.. oh boy, we did overdo that one! Like when he said he'd much rather piss into Roxanne's cleavage, 'cuz i told him that i managed to snag a basket in her cleavage, with a ball of thread i'd rolled outta my jeans pocket, and that she first yelled, and then she'd smiled at me..! Like ..damn, like everything else.

I miss so many of my friends, i know i miss this guy.

^ Anna - The guy who owned and ran the canteen.. he had a very very good looking daughter who was eye candy to the guys whenever sh.. anyway, that guy..

^^ Mangola - A Mango Pulp drink..

^^^TYBA - Third Year Bachelor of Arts

^^^^Fatafat - Essentially a digestive candy, available as small black pellets.. much like goat poo-poo. Tastes amazing..

Movi(e)ng

2008-06-07T00:56:00.001+05:30

If that wasn't a brilliant movie, nothing was!

"Sarkar Raj" is THE masterpiece, Ramu paints good ones every now and then, but like my sweetie tells me, "Gems are rare to come by."

Of course, first we (..meaning me, Mah, and Dizzy, of course!) spent the evening doing what the French call - lèche-vitrines! Atrocious, i know.. it says window licking.. we were simply enjoying the view! Heh heh..!! Caught us some swift bites. The carry away coke my Mah finished was.. well, finished. She gave me that smile and handed over the empty foam cup.. not much, i only had to walk a few hundred thousand steps in InOrbit (..a freakishly large mall, at Malad.) to get to the dustbin to dispose of it. Not much, no. Just a few hundred thousand steps.

..women!

..anyway, staying within topic, Dizzy got stuck at the ladies shoes section.. first.

..

Yes, first. ..and then at the purse and handbag section, and then at the trinkets section. Well, she did remember us, at about thirty minutes before the movie started and we grabbed some coffees and walked into the packed packed theater.
..and boy, was it packed. We sat the entire time with our heads skyward on our necks like Saras cranes trying to swallow fishes in, hold on.. yeah, the FIRST frigging ROW..! I so wanted to just spread out on the carpeted floor in front of me, but the brilliant movie just kept me on the edge of my seat. Literally. I'd slid down, so that my neck won't hurt.

Well, superb editing, absolutely magnificent camerawork makes the movie make your eyes forget to blink. The camera pans always, to capture faces in full strength, sometimes in almost Macro like detail. Every unshed teardrop, every quiver of a fearful lip, every nuance of the beautiful Aishwarya's expressions is captured in vivid detail, mostly in sepia, and sometimes in bluish greytones. Shadows have lent a sinister air at places, and have represented absolute power elsewhere. The performance of every person involved in the movie has been above par.
The story is like a good drive on the Eastern Express highway with only occasional speed-breakers - FAST! The story has no technical loopholes, and is kept amazingly realistic at the end.. beautifully executed.

Well, when we stepped out of the movie - we didn't know that we'd be held up there, at the Mall, for an hour just because housekeeping decide to lose our umbrellas, no no, correction - Dizzy & Mah's umbrellas. I don't carry no umbrella, i'm a man, i don't ca.. uh anyway, so it took security an hour to find the two pieces - one pastel green, the other sick yellow. We caught more conversations and some more coffee at the nearby Coffee Day. Some idiot was busy burning rubber on the road, driving with his handbrake up. In a red Maruti Esteem..

..we had a laugh on THAT one!
Driving back was good, with our mini-arguments going on as we went. Sis was driving. She nearly slammed into the back of the car in front. While we jolted her outta her sleep, i requested her not to dent our nose and the Toyota Corolla's ass.. it was good that all the excuses she gave, telling us how she was awake a micro-second before my hand grabbed the hand brake - kept her awake..! We reached home listening to her telling how well she would've swerved and maneuvered, right from behind the Corolla.

Back home..
By then, i had calmed enough to reflect on the movie again.. while i made me some Maggi..! Of course, like my regular dessert, i fell asleep to the bickering of Mah and Dizzy.

What an unwinded weekend!
..heh..!

We, Animals

2008-05-30T13:44:00.002+05:30

"Peacekeepers, aid workers raping kids as young as six." - Sexual abuse of children by aid workers and peacekeepers is rife and efforts to protect young people are inadequate, said a report published on Tuesday. ..study found a huge range of exploitation and abuse: children trading sex for food, forced sex, verbal sexual abuse, child prostitution, child pornography, sexual slavery, sexual assault, and child trafficking. The focus groups identified children as young as six as having been abused. UN Peacekeepers Were identified as the most tilely perpetrators.. "They especially ask us for girls of our age. Often it will be between eight and ten men who will share two or three girls. When i suggest an older girl, they say they want a young girl." a 14-year-old boy who works at a peacekeeping camp in Ivory Coast told the Save the Children research team.

---------

"Now, a Fritzl-like case of incest in Britain too" - A British woman has revealed that she was raped 800 times and made pregnant by her father - a case which is chillingly similar to Austrian incest fiend Josef Fritzl. ..Anne Marie Wilson, whose nightmare began when she was just 11, said her dad, John McMillan, told her she must give birth so that he could again child benefits. She fell pregnant six times but had four miscarriages and one still-birth. Her other child child, Jennifer, survived only eight months. "Dad used me as his sex slave, raping me once a week. When (Elisabeth) Fritzl's face appeared on TV I collapsed on the sofa." The Sun quoted Anne Marie as saying. "Elisabeth was just like me, Josef was just like dad. The sickening details b(r)ought back everything."

..what the fuck?!

What The Fuck??
What brings us to such depths of depravity? I wonder what happens to more such people in life.. do they enjoy life? Do they have happy endings? Is there a Hell for such people? Isn't it a necessity?? This from just the Wednesday edition of The Times of India and Mumbai Mirror on this 28th. May. Just a day's newspaper. One day. Then too, i've clipped out only two distressing newspieces. ..good that i don't read the papers, that i don't watch the news even on the box.
Good.

My Girl

2008-05-28T16:07:00.002+05:30

..just sometimes you watch movies that affect you so deep, that when the commercials come on - you leave your seat, and walk around the room with a smile, shaking your hands, thinking of the brilliance that's captured on film. That too, 'cuz you were holding back tears a minute ago.

I was watching "My Girl" and i could cry, i could cry cry cry. A Thai movie about two children, in that love which comes and stays without telling of its arrival. I couldn't, wouldn't write about the story here - that would just be an understatement. Just a story of two childhood sweethearts, seperated, and now she's getting married.

..i have a thing for happy endings, and sat out the end, with my fingers crossed. Life, however, they say is unfair.

Later, i was telling Mah about the movie, how it was, and how in life things don't turn out the way they should.

She asked, "Is that it?! You're upset about THAT??"

"Yeah.."

She just laughed it off.
"Look around you, there're a billion examples of things going the way they shouldn't.. it's how things are!"

I strolled outta the kitchen, mumbling something about how we accept life, and how we shouldn't.
Why??
Life can't be something that plans to keep you dejected all the while. It isn't. I don't recognize life that way. I never would.

Conflict Pt. II

2008-05-16T20:20:00.003+05:30

(This is a continuation of This story, which i guess is a dream converted into brilliant writing. I'm trying to do it justice, since it interested me, with what i think follows. The story, in case you visualize it, is written in the detailed disconnected style, to keep it compact..)

"Hey girl. you hungry? Am sorry baby. Come. Follow me & i'll have a treat for you in the kitchen. Here girl..." said Madhavi.
She tried to sound cheerful to Ipek, but the indolent wag of its tail, mashed with the pitying look in its garnet black eyes told her that Ipek knew, something was amiss.
Its eyes were cute. It had the patched black and white fur of its sheep-chasing Collie ancestors, and the sockets of its eyes were ornate on one side with black coat, and with white on the other.. the lack of symmetry, coupled with the tilt of its head pulled a smile to Madhavi's face. The curl of her lips upped the tempo of Ipek's tail-wag fractionally, they were truly like each other. Madhavi pulled out a pack of Purina, and dug in for a fistful..

She was sitting on the plush red leather armchair with an open tin of fruit coulis in her hand. While she spooned out the contents into her mouth, she remembered the time when they'd gotten Ipek first.
She was with him, at a village close to Stuttgart. They were spending a lazy weekend there, of unhurried passion and long walks. One walk took them to a picturesque valley farm. Some collie pups were playing near the fence. A conversation with the caretaker of the farm revealed that Madhavi had fallen in love with the tilt headed devil called Sauza.
He had been absent from the Inn early next morning, but came back just in time to catch the train back to Wein. She didn't ask any questions, for she knew, if he wasn't telling, he had his reasons. From Wein, they came home to Salzburg, and on reaching, he had insisted that she stay the night with him. She had gone to work the next day, straight from his place, and when she had returned to her own apartment that afternoon, she found Sauza sitting at her door in a carton.
She had rechristened it Ipek.

Pulling herself off the armchair, she went to wash her face. With the tears washed, and the face patted dry, she threw one last look at the innocently sharp knife on the kitchen table, and Ipek on the floor near the armchair. She picked up her gift to him, his Tag Heuer Monaco chronometer, an unharmed survivor of the crash, off the side table. It was something he never took off. Sometimes the only thing he wore, when with her, when close to her. She walked into the small bedroom and threw the watch over to the pillow on the other side, to have its ticking keep her company. The bed beckoned now, and she decided she would sleep till it hurt her body enough to balance the numb silence of her thoughts.

In a beautiful story about two lovers, it was said in one the closing passages, that "..it is life, more than death, that has no limits." Thousands of miles away, on the 09th. of September, that author's conviction, his truth, which he had cleverly painted as the belated suspicion of the only spectator of the love of the lovers in the story, was coming true.

Arnab Chakraborty, aged 28, was found inside the mangled remains of his Daytona Grey colored two seater Audi TT Clubsport Quattro. He was presumably on his way to Graz when his car must've skidded over into the ravine on his left side. He was pronounced dead of the seven vital signs, at the hospital as his ruins were brought in at 2000hrs on the 6th. of September, by a young doctor, who had an emetic reaction the moment he looked at the contorted face with one open eye, the other swollen, but not damaged. His mandible was shattered in an impossible way, and his left leg was twisted at so unnatural an angle, that both his feet looked like the right foot. It was conjectured, correctly, that he had died of a myocardial infarction from the shock and pain of his injuries rather than from the actual injuries themselves. The Indian Embassy was notified, along with his then employer - National Orient Lines. However the first call had gone to a local number which was found in the remains of his cellphone as 'Love Home'. It was the answering machine of a certain Madhavi Joshi, in Austria itself, that took the call always opening with the unwavering courtesy of a pre-recorded message. She had come out of her bath minutes later, which she took to wash his angry departure off herself, and played the message on her phone which informed her of the extent of his departure.

On the 07th. of September, his body was moved into a steel casket in deep freeze, and with all the decorum of merchant marine, it was sent to Bombay. After the 5960kilometer and eleven hour flight, the casket traveled the final kilometers to the Bombay Hospital which would thaw the body, and make it suitable for the final rites. At his home, his mother had wept. Wailed. Madhavi was there with her, giving an amount of strength that she herself was surprised to be able to muster. Her own parents came over and gave her the strength and support she so needed. His sister was half a world away in the United States busy with work, and had only been asked to return urgently, for it was thought better to break it to her when she would have her loved ones close by. His remains were to be cremated in the most Brahmin rites, more ashes to ashes than dust to dust on the evening of the 9th. as soon as his sister would return, with only his loved ones around.

It was on the 08th. of September that life decided to prove, that existence was the law of nature, that to live - was the supreme purpose.
In the vault, numbered 207, on the seventh floor of the esteemed Bombay Hospital Morgue - was kept the cloth wrapped body of a man who had the calmest look doctored on his face. Doctors had worked on his lithe and mostly unharmed frame, stitching up his wounds, twisting his leg back to an angle more human looking, cleaning the blood from his eyes, and finally setting his shattered jaw to a sight more agreeable. Sometime that night, his lover was taking a flight back to where she worked, where she'd have to set her watch back by three and half hours. It must've been an odd stroke of coincidence, that just as the wheels of her Lufthansa left the ground, the moment in which she was solidly disconnected from the soil of the country which raised them both, she burst into helpless sobs, was the moment in which the compressor unit in the morgue blew a capacitor in its complex circuitry. What happened next, could easily be called divine intervention. The heat of the blown capacitor melt away a small portion of the plastic covering on the wire live with electricity for that section of the morgue. It was close to 12 in the night. The temperature dropped in accordance to the temperate climate of its setting despite the insulation, the maintenance crew was there quickly and work started when the digital clock above the morgue door blinked from 00:30 to 00:31. The electrician amongst the maintenance crew tinkered, and his exploring Strapp screwdriver completed the grounding circuit, by connecting the naked wire with steel walls of the rows of the vaults with an arc. Thus, in line with the ball that had been set into motion, the ball of life rolled, a spark flew to the steel storage unit, delivering a precise energy of 340 Joules at a mild 250 volts of heavy current through the four bodies in the vaults, spasming them all, affecting only one. All the lights for the floor went out, as the fuse gave in under the grounding current, all in just a split second.

His eye fluttered open, only his right eye.

The spasm of the ridiculously precise defibrillating jolt had sparked life, but the immensity of his pain fainted him immediately. Exactly seven minutes later life was at work. A low moan escaped him when he didn't faint again. The pain dissolved swiftly into a pulsating numbness and he fell into swift exhausted sleep. He slipped out of it almost immediately, but with a blank mind. His was, in the truest sense, the tabula rasa - a scraped tablet. By instinct, he moved an appendage of his, which he knew not to be his right arm. Survival must've been the most fitting description of what made him bang his right fist on the cold steel next to him, when he felt a painful feeling, which he knew not to be asphyxiation. He was obviously unaware of his left side, because instinct must've refused to note it for him. He had no idea of where he was, what he was, or why he was. He had no ideas.
More obviously, he knew nothing of the fearful commotion he caused as the three man maintenance crew had scrambled to the nearest desk and informed authority in a bouquet of pitches, what they'd heard from one of the vaults in row two. Two guards, the doctor in charge, and one of the electricians entered the enclosure as the red digits of the clock above them asserted that it was 00:54. The full thumping noise came from the Row 2, and even when everyone else stopped, the Doctor, with his, torch, his experiences of life and its constant surprises, moved on, till his fingers gripped the softly vibrating steel latch of Vault 207.

Two dark hours later, he was still on the operating table, with a heart-lung machine on standby, with a team of the most qualified surgeons, working only to keep this miracle from becoming a debacle. They, the people, whose fingers played with life, mended it, worked it, they who themselves worked miracles, now wanted to work in tandem with a miracle so unexplainable, that it was now unquestionable. There was acute brain trauma, some severe physical injuries, the body hadn't putrefied, the diaphragm along with the cardiac muscles had recaptured functioning from the shock and the lungs had functioned enough to again pull in sufficient blood, oxidize it, and send it to the already starved brain. The body had fluid blood, enough. He was given more; all hands that had to be, were on deck. Some worked with God in their mind and some worked with a sense of duty and passion to maintain his nystagmus which was more a sign of life to them than his wrecked breath. They worked on him, with a sense of gain, which was above the price of their services. Three hours of bone setting at his ribs, scapula, pelvis, femur, tibia and fibula, the last two of which required metal reinforcements, coupled with five simultaneous hours of facial reconstruction and the mending of a punctured lung thrown in, cost the Hospital - Two Hundred Thousand in Indian currency. The Doctors and team were worked worth another Hundred and Eighty Thousand of same. Yet, the work had been done on the credit account of life.

His body, assumed to be convalescing, was placed in the Intensive Critical Care facility with an intravenous codeine drip, in the sunny dawn hours of the 9th. The administration was busy finding out information about the Man they now had. It was found out that he had been flown in late on the 7th. and that the only contact was his Mother's home phone in Bombay. The provided phone kept ringing, and by afternoon, it was found that the address led to a locked door. Twenty eight kilometers from that locked door, his mother was with Madhavi's parents, who had requested her to be with them at their place rather than being alone, since the previous evening. They had waited at the arrival lounge of Bombay's international airport, in the waiting area of the terminal for Cathey Pacific only to be told that the flight had been canceled from London onwards and the passengers would journey down in the next United Airlines connecting flight. They returned, deciding to wait. Late that night, Madhavi called his mother to ask to keep his shirts. Holding back tears of affection for the girl who was probably more broken than she was, she replied - "..sure you can, beta. Anything you want." His mother knew how much Madhavi loved her son, and how much he loved her. Life was wine to them, and they were like the bouquet and color of it.. which was who, no one could tell.
His mother awoke with a start. It was six into the morning of the 10th. of September, and she was dreaming that her son was hurt and was asking for her help.. something like that. Incoherent. She let the tears roll for the millionth time, without noise. Parallely, she remembered that she must phone the hospital to hold his body another day, coldly, yes. Someone had paid the bills and all the other projected charges.. "..must've been Madhavi." thought his mother. Should she pay her all that she.. no, that won't do; she decided, that would injure the girl's dignity, plus, it would be an insult to her desire for him.

Barely fifty kilometers away, he was slipping in and out of consciousness, only the vigor of his built, his fiery desire of survival, his composition and his disposition of instincts bundled with the codeine drip kept the miracle going. He was alive. The constant care the hospital provided to him, despite the lack of success in contacting his family, was his elixir. When his eye did stay open for a while, in his stupor, he only saw. Inside that brain of his, magic was in progress working seamlessly towards the crescendo, the prestige. With the first flow of blood, the motor area of his cortex had come to functionality. The sensory area of his cortex was fine, and the association area was working furiously to perform the innate search on memory. His hippocampus was unhurt, and that kept his recent memory, his mood, his senses, his feelings and his instincts all over the cortex - in order. Yet, the lack of blood to it for so long a time dictated that he recapture his long-term memories, almost as if by reading a book. Sounds of familiar words flitted past his ears, sometimes he felt he recognized them, sometimes everything was incomprehensible.. murky. Thankfully, the Audi had proved itself in the field of its engineering, it's seat-belt had held and all its three airbags had opened to protect his head; only when rolling down the side of the ravine had his head hit the gear-stick, ripping his eyelid and making only a bloody mess. He was in the mood for life, like always. Some Doctors had visited him too, with admin staff to ask him about people who would like to know he is alive, but he just lay there, only hearing them.

At ten in the morning, of the 10th. day of September, his mother called the Hospital to ask them to hold his body another day, and with more relief than happiness, they informed her of his predicament. Stunned, his mother did not believe, did not wish to believe, would not believe; not because she loved him less, but because in all her love for him to honor his strength, she had made peace with his departure. Within a hurried hour, she, along with Madhavi's parents were rushing into the driveway of Bombay Hospital, attempts of a particular cellular connection were being made to a particular number in Salzburg, Austria.
Tears flowed freely when they rushed into his cubbyhole at the Intensive Critical Care Unit on the tenth floor of the Hospital. He lay there with his right eye closed, bandages covered laparoscopic incisions on his chest, plasters held most of his face, shoulder and all of his left leg from waist down.. but of course, he had recaptured life. His mother caressed him with her eyes, from the distance they were to keep.

Madhavi, a world away, had just reached her workplace, she needed to take the week off, and she wanted to intimate the friends he had made within her colleagues. Her phone rang at close to 9:15a.m. just as she was crossing her office parking. It was her own mother on the line, she was quivering on about something having to do with Arnab, her speech was incoherent.. she did love him as her own son. She asked her mother to calm down and repeat what she was saying.. that was when his mother took the phone and told her.
Her head spun, and she gripped the phone, the phone he had gifted to her, so hard, that her middle finger clamped down on the call end button. She hurriedly called back, and when his mother finished recounting to her the entire miracle which the doctors had disclosed, she felt the feeling of happiness, incredulity, fear, all smashed with the feeling of not knowing what to do, what to correctly feel. The building in front of her swam and spun, life came rushing back to her like hammerblow, her breathing went ragged.. like when he had first touched her.

She always believed in magic. It paid off.. for with magic, he was reborn. She walked into her office knowing she had found new life, to live on.

The Passing Buck

2008-05-02T14:05:00.001+05:30

Me: "..you know, what she said next? She said she'd drain the entire tank before Bhaiya came home to lunch! Just so that he'd notice and get some electrician to fix the pump.. she'd do that to her own son, she'd drain the water! Just to make him notice the problem, she'd make him suffer it.."
Laxman: "Yeah, so?"
Me: "..what?! Don't you see? How insensitive is it, to make him face the problem!"
Laxman: "..lekin, he doesn't know about the fault, and he should take care of these things. It's his duty."
Me: "..but it'd just happened! Plus, where's the gratitude for the fact that he's earning for them all?? Shouldn't they be thankful and maybe attempt to solve this problem? They can, you know."
Laxman: "How? They're aged, who do they have, who can solve the problem? To get a pump repaired?"

...

Me: "..hey! If she has the strength to walk miles for her evening walk can go get the electrician from the corner of our block, and her husband, though aged has a two wheeler he can ride to the same electrician guy, bring him home and get the problem fixed."
Laxman: "No! Why should he? He has done his duty, has done enough when Bhaiya was a kid. It is now his turn to rest, and Bhaiya should take care of things. It is already more than enough that He takes care of the farm and rides to it every evening.."
Me: "Maybe, but what if they can take care of things? Shouldn't they even move a finger?! ..and is this the way they should present the problem to him while he's sustaining the family with his earning?? Is work beneath people of a certain age?"
Laxman: "Of course. It's the way, if Bhaiya isn't attentive, this is how he should be treated. I'd do the same. They've done their quota; after a certain age, they oughtta rest now."
Me: "..you know, with that attitude, your kids'll kick you out of your home when you're old!"

The unbiased facts (..close to the end of April):

Situation - The submersible pump that is the source of water to the entire house, was facing some problems. Another standby pump had already been used to fill our overhead tanks, thereby eliminating the water problem temporarily. An electrician would've solved the entire problem, and such a service is available at not more than 200meters from this house. The problem arose after Bhaiya had left for office that morning; our Landlady's statement was given to me at twelve thirty in the noon, before Bhaiya came home for his lunch. It was her frank smiling assumption that he'd notice the problem when he would go to wash his hands.. because as our landlady herself pointed out, "..he always corrects the problems the moment he sees them!"

Bhaiya - a reticent guy, our landlord's son - a Charted Accountant. Busy busy. Doesn't really have the time or inclination to find out about the problems at home. Has an angel of a wife to handle that front.. but she is presently not here, visiting her parents.
Landlord (He) - is a monolith. The silent, genial looking, slow moving, indifference feigning, opinionating backbone. He practices Yoga. Rides to His farms every evening, balances its output, and its ledgers. Smiles when His wife yells, the way only She can. He would be the last person to help you out if you asked for trivial help.
Landlady (She) - Yells. His wife. Very helpful to us and other neighbours, nice but meddlesome. (..then again, who isn't!) Walks Her evening walks when She's not busy reproving HER 98 (..yes, ninety eight!) year old Mother In Law..!
Me - Yours Truly!
Laxman - The one guy we fully expect not to move a muscle unless it is essential to HIS survival. Presumably intelligent, devoid of most emotions. Highly judgmental.

My incredulity towards what i was hearing Laxman say was because it stank of so much asininity. The logic or rather the lack of logic in his words was like the lack of intellect in an unpurchased fashion magazine on a newsstand. It is known as fact that he really won't do anything requiring effort - in old age, or otherwise.. but to say that a man who works day and night (..and we know he does work hard..) to earn enough to buy the comfortable life for his family, 'deserves' to be treated this way?! To say, that by creating guilt in a family, the material problems can be solved? To forgo the usual honest ways of telling another family member of a problem, and instead making him suffer the problem.. that too by creating it..?! ..by draining the tanks??

Funny. I thought it was common practice to ascribe fault to a man only when he could be guilty of it. How was the poor bastard to find out that the pump at home stopped working, when he was sitting in his office, earning the living for himself and the family. That too, pretty well! Or is telepathy about the damages in the household, a portion of taking up responsibility of one's aged parents? Are children the 'Insurance Policy' that people draw so that they can be waited on, hands and feet, when they age?! Are children the butlers who shall be made guilty by throwing the problems on their faces like an used towel?? I'd never teach, when in the position to teach, that guilt should be the motive power to any action. I'd take care of my loved ones the best i can because i want to, and i'd expect not to be taken care of, based on the assumption that i have a right to it. If people would care for me, it would be because i've earned their concern, or because they want to care for me in spite of what or how i am.

I really don't understand the opinion, that aged people have the right to rest, enjoy, overstay, or abuse the care and concern of anybody just because they've spent a certain amount of time in their lives toiling for a purpose - as if the purpose was to be able to rest, eat, sleep. As if the purpose was to live devoid of a purpose when a certain age was attained.
Pathetic.

More than that, the statement of a friend to whom i attributed lucid thought, who a considered endowed with the clarity of judgment, was a shocker. The conviction of his statement made me spite him with a cruel forecast of what might naturally happen to him if he had children who he burdened with guilt.

..but then maybe nothing of that sort would happen. Despite his logic being as severely flawed as the Ptolemaic System, the concept of caring for our parents is so so deeply ingrained in our thought processes, what with the stories of "Shravan Kumar" etc.
Maybe we're a population, just dependent on others, dependent on their moral sanction, dependent on guilt to drive us, we work on threats, our depravity has reached stages where, by giving discomfort, we derive results from the schadenfreude.
Like i said.. pathetic.

Statement

2008-04-24T23:41:00.000+05:30

L: "I love you.."
Me: "I love you more!"
L: "..umm.. Okay!" (..giggling..) "I'll agree with that for today..!"

..

Me: "..you know, i'll love you increasingly, and i want you to love me back. Equally or more, with force. I need it, it's my necessity."
L: "It is your right."

..the ease, the beauty of pure affection was lost on me. I thought, it was about my giving, the pain of pining away, the fidelity in latching onto the remnants of a dead relationship. Maybe selflessness isn't such a part of love after all. It must be the most selfish emotion, to want to pleasure someone for your own pleasure. Love must simply be a word we choose to concisely describe the 'affirmation of life'.. and who, if not 'self' is the greatest proof of life?!

I lived an insufficiently long amount of time thinking that i'd lost the greatest of all my assets, the love of an intelligent, intellectual girl. I now realize, i never had it. It was a finely crafted illusion, very thin, but finely crafted none the less. The love that cannot survive hardships, isn't love - it's just the illusion of love. Yet, as i was once telling a close friend, the loss had made me sleep on a pillow wet with tears, on countless nights. Too much, i'd grieved. It is lucid now, that the grief was about loss more than for the object of my loss. I couldn't accept the fact that i no longer had what i had earned, what i deserved. I couldn't digest the sheer contradiction of a girl who promised her love, but wouldn't keep her promise - i guess i was more disgusted with myself for choosing wrong and then being left unable to do anything about it.
I was left with destructive thoughts, thoughts of self-sacrifice, of masochistic inclinations and so on and so forth. Then came impotent rage; impotent because all my life i've made my anger work for me - except this time.

A very good friend had told me, in context to my grief then - "What is love, if it needs to be demanded?!" So correct was the line that my clouded conscience was unable to decipher it even in its stark simplicity. I'd countered with a feeble - "..i didn't fall in love to fall outta it." If i remember correctly, my thought had a tone of self-righteous indignation in it.
Such a fool i'd been, to clutch a handful of desert sand and expect it to quench my thirst. Good i'm not having to live life with arid sand.

Good i'm done.

The Third April

2008-04-06T05:46:00.000+05:30

Oh My God..!

Mémè

2008-03-27T03:32:00.013+05:30

..in the absence of anything better, i've stolen this from Here, of course..! (..that too shamelessly!! :D) I'll write a 'lil for every pic, maybe twist and interpret the rules as i like.. but I think I will enjoy it.

Rules:
Go to www.photobucket.com.
Type in your answer to the question in the “search” box.
Use only the first page.
Insert the picture into your blog.

1. What is your relationship status?

(..of course, this is what turned up with 'Complicated'..!)

2. What is your current mood?

(..euphoria!!)

3. Who is your favorite musical artist?

(PROPHET MESSENGER SAINT ARTIST WRITER ACTOR HOMEBOY RAPPER ACTIVIST)

4. What is your favorite movie?

(..'Shawshank Redemption' in English, and 'Vaastav' in Hindi.)

5. What kind of pet do you have?

(..my Max is a Lab Retriever.)

6. Where do you live?

(Self Explanatory)

7. Where do you work?

(..well, i actually don't work, but education can be equally daunting!!)

8. What do you look like?

(Beastly - not ghastly..!)

9. What do you drive?

(This is the closest i came to a Maruti 'Alto'.)

10. What did you do last night?

(..not a stranger. No, not really!)

11. What is your favorite TV show?

(D'oh!!)

12. Describe yourself.

(..i was thinkin' of writing 'Lover', but this's gotta be more true.)

13. What are you doing today?

(..i know. Two photos, but they're both from the first page. That's how much exams make me shit..!)

14. What is your name?

(..i found only rabbits for 'Arnab', but friends lovingly call me "dawg", so..!)

15. What is your favorite candy?

(..i don't dig sugar boiled confectionery, but candy-floss is okay with me. Then again, all would lose to Chocolate!!)

I pass this to anyone who'd like to waste some time; go ahead, splurge..!

(Edit: [27Apr11] - Changed dead image links. Photobucket just isn't as good..)

..somebody

2008-03-21T22:46:00.009+05:30

"..bronzy, what if i could not become somebody in life?"

Who is somebody? What is the definition of this so seemingly esoteric concept? Why was i asked this? Most importantly, how could anybody, NOT be Somebody..?!

I wonder.
..especially in times when a person's achievement is in terms of monetary, fiscal, financial stature. Have we not lost the 'being' in the "human being"..? Is life so unromantic, so mundane and banal, that just being a great mother, or a good husband isn't the aim anymore? I would, in my own evaluation, be 'a somebody', if i loved all my relationships with fidelity, and honesty. If i could be a good father, it would be prize enough for me.
..as a matter of fact, that is one of my greatest fears. Some might comment, that this ain't the right time to think of something of such gravity, but i differ - i'd like to be a good father, and yes, i do think about it.

Maybe, in the future, if i ended up not earning enough for a lavish lifestyle, i would not be labeled a 'somebody' by the society, but to myself, and this is paramount - that one be able to judge himself, and judge for himself. Honestly. So, as i was saying, that to myself i would be someone good if i persisted in concurrence with my values, with my passions, with my ethics, with my logic intact. Notice i'm not saying "existed", because to me, to exist, is just to "be" to "live", and me - i wanna thrive, i want to flourish. My Concise Oxford helped me here.

(..that, and then this..)

I do not understand the whole mode of judgment which awards 'somebodyness' to people. My greatest achievement is, and of course would be - the company of the most marvelous, most wonderful and the most intellectual people in my life; my relationship(s) with them is my prize. My conversations with them are my sources of strength.
..ain't that somethin'..?!

"Between the cat and the mouse, it is 'Fear', that keeps the mouse alive.", but to live in fear, and to live fear is to not live at all. It's fear that has made men stoop, fear has led people to live, and has disabled people from leading life. The order here is important, because those who've been led, are not remembered, we only mention the one's who lead, who are somebodies. Those who've faced their fears, assuaged them, conquered them, and made IT their slave, are the one's we talk about. They are not extraordinary people, they're just like us - mirror images of what we are, but cosmically far from who we are. These are people who have had the balls to believe that 'they can'. Believe in themselves, before wanting to live up to anyone else's expectations.
Similar is the thought of being alive because of love and pain. Why not live to love, why not experience excruciating pain and see it as a sign of being alive, rather that making it the reason to live?
Trusting oneself, is an important first step in trusting someone, loving oneself is the most important step in loving anyone. To do these both, it is must that one recognizes the 'self' as above the pain, the love(s), any emotions, and all sentiments or judgments. To have strength, is to be able to thrive, and it's so much, like what David Sheldon in "Adventure" was like. Only simply knowledgeable of his strength, his willpower, his inner strength. Or just like Frona Welse in "A Daughter of Snows"; she sounds like the example of feminine life force.. so absolute, so confident. Or, like my favorite, the boxer i can nearly identify with - Martin Eden in "Martin Eden", who achieves self actualization, yet dies.. (update: [24Mar 0115hrs] Oh Gawd!! How could i forget my favoritest of'em all - Saxon Brown & Billy Roberts of "The Valley of the Moon".. the most loving pair, and ones who live!! :D) i think Jack London, author to all these works, knew the secret of the power of life, he must've known the way someone becomes somebody by the reasons of his or her inner strengths, that only a good human being can be somebody.

Lance Armstrong:
Read about him here. This man believed in himself, in his own strength.. he has become a somebody. Even in the face of adversity. He did not let his suffering become the prime focus of his life, he decided to be somebody in his own special way, with hard Hard Work, without Fear. This determination, more than the worth of his Seven consecutive Golds at Tour Dé France, makes him worthy of the admiration, of the praise. Yet, he ain't boastful about it.. that is power..!
I pray to God, to give such moxie, to all those who truly are worthy of it; especially my loved ones.

It is, after all, somewhat like what Anna Eleanor Roosevelt said "Friendship with one self is all important, because without it one cannot be friends with anyone else in the world."

Wha..!? Pt. II

2008-03-17T20:19:00.010+05:30

"Today's fortune: Behind an able man, there are always other able men."

What the fuck?? Is it just me, or does this sound as inanely stoopid like "When thee farts, thy anal sphincter convulses.."..?? Orkut must be smokin' some bad weed these days to spew such retro-intellectual shit.

" DID YOU KNOW: From Wikipedia's newest articles: ...that Lady Florence Dixie (pictured), feminist, big game hunter, war correspondent, and suffragette, was the aunt of Oscar Wilde's lover Lord Alfred Douglas?"

:O
..i really learn a lot everyday, Oscar Wild e was gay?! ..wild!! What's with creativity and sexual orientation..??

..this is at my friend's comment-board in her social-networking portal. Can people really be this way?!! Really?? Asininity has a new benchmark..!

This is so damnamazinginsolentstupidly funny..!!
Hah..! That too from one of my favorite bloggers..

Me thinks, that for everything here in this post, (borrowed, of course) this Calvin number would do justice!!

:D

Updates:

When people leave..
..they leave so many memories, so many images behind. They leave behind signs, of their departure. This is when Srikant left us.
(To go to the toilet.)

We were trying..
..to make my table, with all the scrap sun-mica sheets; midst it all, i decided to pull Dharma's ass outta the bed..!!

..this is me!
All for you, comin' soon to a theater near you! eckō unltd. - the World Famous Rhino, spearheading the bronze-arrow!!

Changes

2008-03-17T04:51:00.002+05:30

..early into the beginning of 17th. of Mar. 08, my life changed again. It, of course, changes every moment, and i do want to change for the better, but this time, it was a little different - it was, like many of the good things in life, from my roommate. Yet, it was a carelessly said line, words flung loosely over the shoulder. He was walking outta' the room, when he, as an answer, conclusion and moral, said this..

"Never give priority to people for whom you're just an option."

..he had walked out, probably drowned in his own thoughts. Thoughts maybe, of the girl he was telling me about. I had only asked, "..why did you ignore her so badly?" and this had been his closing statement. It hit me like a raindrop hitting barren land. The absolute simplicity and logic of the thought, its brevity, just knocked my breath away. I called back for him to come to the room, and asked him to repeat the line. At the bottom of it, i told him abjectly, i had been living this way, for long. In return, he smiled, all he had to mention, was that he's seen most people live this way.

The logic seems SO simple, that it is almost unbelievable to think that it escapes the thinking of such a magnitude of people. I got the same feeling this time, like when i used to study science. It was the immediate thought of, "Why didn't i think of that?! It is so insanely simple!"
Imagine feeling like Avogadro when he made discovery. I guess, i'm just trying to put to words, the implications this little statement held for me. My reaction may seem silly to some, but isn't, at least, to me. I have perfect reason to believe, that I have given undue priority to certain people, despite being only choices to them. Maybe not even that.
I don't know.
..yet, it is a cleansing feeling to be able to discern now. I'm nothing to some, a choice to some, an impossibility to some, and the reality to some. I'd now know, which ties to truncate, and which to braid and strengthen.

Lord, please gimme the strength to prune the dead tendrils from the vine that my memory is. Please give me the ability to not dream dreams that suck me into a vortex of pain. Allow me to shred what makes me rot, enable me to purge that, which latches me to tears.
Capacitate me of love.
Again.

Rushed Hours

2008-03-11T05:25:00.013+05:30

23rd. Feb - Gunjan's B'day.

Wake up.
Tossing and turning, after a beautiful night.
Too beautiful to wake up with a frown, i mumble my morning obeisance to the higher powers.
Too warm under the blankets.
Too cold outside it.
Alarm rings after being on snooze for long.
Srikant yelling.. something.

Coherence creeps in, it's 0755hrs and i've a train to catch. At 0820hrs.
Srikant was attempting to wake me up.

I switch over to speed mode, and finish my morning regularities. Step outta bath at exactly 0820. I've missed the train. Srikant gives me that wry smile which i get from him, everytime i do things at the last moment.

..scant deliberation.

Pull out our bike, and reach over to Arun's. Park the Victor. Rev the Karizma. Fill gas worth a hundred bucks, and step on the pedal - Srikant's eyes bleed saline whenever he clocks 130 on the speedo - my eyes, with me on pillion, are shut. The wind cries at my ears, begging not to be ripped apart by this yellow behemoth. The engine handles the speed like it's home-turf.
We reach Tirora. The train we were running to catch, had left fifteen minutes ago. Srikant asks if i'd like to ride on to Nagpur. I mentally calculate the gas-cost. 500 bucks, to-n-fro.
Express Bus ticket - 80 bucks.
Bus it is.

(..can you see the speedo clockin' 120+..?!)

En route, i fall asleep in gasps - paying my debts to Nyx for my insolence this night! Three hours of sleep, a hot bath and a thin breakfast later i'm on my way to perform, in the loosest sense of the word. To compete, in a stricter sense - and at my manubrium is a strange wrenching feeling when i think of being on stage tomorrow.
The feeling had been with me since morning. About it, Srikant had let out a nugget of gold - "..between the Cat and the Mouse, it is 'Fear', that keeps the mouse alive."

The bus rattles and moans all over the roads - through the rural backdrop, made colorful with political posters, banners, and hand-painted signs. It leaps onto the National Highway, almost with a grunt of relief. Schools, deserted.. (..isn't it Saturday today?!) Temples, hospitals with mild influx, 22wheeler trucks, commercial 'kaali-peelee' utility vehicles, and seemingly barren land pass me by.
I take a look at the tarmac which speeds swiftly away from my direction of motion, and sharply turn away with a vertiginous sensation. That's what happens when you focus on regression rather than progression. It is fatally worse, when in life you are in company of those who retrograde. I focus onto the loose cows, their bulls, the stray dogs, and some hen chased by an aggressive open-winged cock.

The 'blank'ness of my thought hits me. Years ago, i would've spent this travel time, in enriching the "I". I probably would've finished the Reader's Digest i have in the front pouch of my luggage. In absence of that, i would've thought of something by Mr. Hawkins, or Mr. Penrose, maybe something by Nietzsche, if so inclined.
'Mauda' arrives.

I turn my attention towards the man in the equally uncomfortable seat next to mine - he's wearing an HMT watch. Most possibly handed down the generations. Well maintained. What happened to the Hindustan Machine Tools? I'm passionate about antiques, things from the past which are usually more valuable than they're costly. I'm reminded of what Laxman always tells me - "..every thought, every action, of a man, speaks of his character." I'm a little old fashioned, i guess!

The bus is in the outskirts of Nagpur - and the window again offers the more natural vista. More natural than when i see the worried look on the contorted faces of city dwellers. Something i'll see again, in Nagpur and in Pune tomorrow.
Inside the bus, a woman throws up, with her neck craning outta the window.
Again.
All the windows, deeper down, are quickly slammed shut.
Again.
People at the back solicitously ask her to puke into a polythene bag. She ignores them all. Typically Indian.

Should i write about love?
No.
Or maybe.. just that i love pizza. I'm hungry. I hope she'll take me to a nice (..and laterally inexpensive!) food joint.
Let's see.

I'm hot.
Yeah, that too, but i was talking about the high ambient temperature here, winters are unofficially over.
..anyway, i've entered the urbanity and chaos, that Nagpur is, through an obscure portal called 'Pardi'. I'll leave this unfinished collage for later.

~~

It is arguably after five in the evening here. The Sun is turning a shy orange again, as i'm leaving the Orange city. With me are two accomplices, prepared for a weary sixteen hour bus journey.
At least the seats are comfortable.
My mind is still in Nagpur. Wanting certain conversations to go on, midst a certain company. Midst a smile.

I must be gravitating towards insanity.

~~

Eleven in the night.
The seats are uncomfortable. Very much so. I'll sleep.

24th. Feb - A Day Spent.

Fortune favors the brave. Misfortune prefers to favor without any such discretion..!
Tycoons is over, as far as i'm concerned.
I must learn to lose gracefully.

Since Maharashtra is being emptied of its non-belonging populace, and also since we've managed to miss our return bus, we're now at the (three bedroom) apartment of the cousin of my accomplice. Dinner was good! Sleep should be better.. and this entire Maharashtra fiasco reminds me of my comment to Mr. Ranjeet Gadgil, that won the applause of the entire gathering. It was spoken in context to the blame hurled at the populations of certain regions, stating that they disturbed decorum, were loud, and created filth.

"..we, as college students, the four of us roommates, live in a rented accommodation. We have a simple rule at our place : 'All the Shoes Stay Outside the Front Door'. It is clearly our freedom to enforce this stricture, because it is our house. Everyone would want their house, home, their land, and their motherland to remain clean, in every sense of the word. Raj Thackery is justified in wanting to keep his motherland 'clean' and 'spotless', in every way. Maybe the flaw exists solely in the methodology he has adopted to implement his stricture."

The clapping and back-patting was good.
I'll sleep remembering it!

25rd. Feb - The day of Return.

I don't feel like writing.
Relative to the Earth's axis, i'm hurtling towards Nagpur from Pune at around 108080 kilometers per hour. This is so because the bus travelled from west to east, the speed is added.
I should really stop writing such serious, boring and descriptive diary notes.

They're playing "Sunday" on the entertainment screen. The hurried purchase of deli was good. It made for the most wonderful dinner i've had, in many days! I'll remember 'GoodLuck Bakery'.

What a day it'll be tomorrow.
What a day it was, today.

~~

(today morn - 26th Feb)

Reaching home, or the definition closest to it.

Headaches

2008-02-28T17:29:00.000+05:30

No headache is as destructively potent as the one which comes from the memories of loss. The only balm to which can be a fervent, unaccountable yet soothing passion, preferabaly ministered with soft fingers.

..it is seven in the morning, and i haven't slept all night. Even the Dispirin didn't help as much as it should've. Which can be expected, considering the astonishing collage of circumstances, which life presently is. When you're in the middle of reading'bout unrequited love in the lucent words of Márquez, when you've lost love, when you're desperately on the verge of wanting to find love again, when your foundations - the plinth of your peace, your life, is ruptured. When..

..oh when. When you remember a friends death, the death of a friend's source of strength, when you realize the time you've lost in life, and the losses incurred due to that lost time, and when..

I've been incriminated with pessimism.
Probably it is so..
Without choice.

Cent per Cent

2008-02-21T02:17:00.006+05:30

It is fearfully close to my hundredth post. I think this one is it, but may show otherwise in the list of things written on my blog. Because of the date, of course!

..no reasons to pop the bubbly, or don any party hats. I've been writing this diary for over two years, and only a Hundred Posts..!?

Pathetic! **Hyuck, Hyuck..!!**

Yet, i write about what excites passion in me, and when it so happens Just like i've always done what i've wanted to do, i've always only followed my passion. It has been the fall of me.
I thought about what, as the hundredth post, would do justice to a reader. (..mostly me myself!)

..the hurts, pains, sorrows?
How could i write about MY sorrows, when the difficulties, the tears of my dear ones and my closest friends lie heavy on me. Some of them smile bravely despite the stupendously crushing load of grief they carry. I salute them, and in deference, i can not write a "..so and so did such and such, this and that happened, and oh i feel so bad!" type of post. Add to that, the way, "..tum itna jo muskuraa rahe ho, kya ghum hai jisko chupaa rahe ho?!" was sung to me.. i'd smile
Plus, a hundredth post couldn't be that un-celebratory. It'd be too much self pity..!

..the woman i'd loved more than life?
No!!
That has been done to death, or rather very alarmingly close to that. Anymore of bleeding my heart, and i would die of hemorrhage.

..the present love of my life?!
Umm.. not yet!

..about how bloggers turn into authors!?
Nah..!
I hate those bloggers who start to talk about how Random House offered them that book deal. I detest, in Capt. Haddock's style, the type who keep writing about this great blogger convention which they attended, which had free food, and successful bloggers as guest speakers. What the f..?! Who IS a successful blogger? How can that be defined??
Blue Blistering Barnacles..! *%#$..

..or i could slip into reminiscence mode!
About how the days have passed, and how childishly i used to write when i started out, and that i've grown.. but that would not be the truth. Not even close to it. ..and i'm not just talking about the "i've grown" bit, i also believe that some of my first posts, written solely for myself are the best ever.

..anyway, maybe i would write about this new compliment i got!
"..off his (my) rockers!!"
The chicks, and i tell you, it's always the chicks who get it right - they've hit a home run! Crazy that i am, it still makes for a not so bloggable topic.

..oh oh! How'bout how many para-academic achievements i've collected till date!!?
Err..
Hell naw..! That'll be too much self praise in one blog post! 'Cuz i'm like this 'lil mouse on the rimwheel that keeps running and running, and performing and performing, on and on..! In its cage.

..then i should pro'lly write about how i got my ass beat, this birthday!

(..if you can see my pain..!!)

Though, it would have no bearing to a hundredth post whatsoever. Yet, looking back at THIS (..and even this and this are funny to me!!) particular post, i can only laugh! So naive.. so foolish, that was when i was falling in love, and the desire to excel was hot on my head. Now i just take the beating, shut the fuck up, and move my ass on. Yet, love makes us better, as a verb. I've learnt.

..i know! I could write about my stupid college.
That, however, would most definitely send my mood swinging to the negative extremities. I mean, as if simply being in a college which is situated trivially to the left of the middle of nowhere isn't bad enough, i now have to deal with a faculty and principal straight outta Stephen King novels..! Hell, strangers have been more cooperative, and contributive to my success, than these egotistical pencildicks.
See?! ..i'm already spiraling!

..perhaps then, it would be nice to write about my Boarding life!

(..at Jyoti Sharma M'am's farewell; i was her fav..! {..i think!!})

Yes - especially my misadventures, but i think i could write an entire book on that. A simple post won't do it justice..!

..i could, you know, with the lack of options, resort to a meme..!
Now only if i could find me one. I'm too lazy to hunt one now.
Damn!

..then again, i have enough fabulous people in my life who i can write about.
Though, i'm sure, that with the kinda' memory i have - i'll forget one or two from here-n-there.. so, rather not write an unfair and incomplete post!

..the recent Bhanpur trip?!?

(Oh the absolute fun..!!)

No. That deserves a separate post. Plus, so do all the other trips, incidents, and humorous happenings at home here.

..the.. oh, fuck it! Life is bhery bhery uninteresting!
Then what do i write about? What could give me enough thought for foo.. FOOD..! Naah.. not even that..

Oh Lord, talk about writer's blog over blogger's cramp..!
:D

a big dick results in the greatest sex that you ever had

2008-02-17T11:09:00.004+05:30

..at least that's what Krista G. Albright from {krista@valkyrie.net} would have me believe.
Actually, this is what she came up with:

**

he said, was to be used to buy time in adverse circumstances to cushion Hungary, Poland, the Czech Republic, and Russia. The search for further
In late June came the news that Soros ranked as the number one derivative instruments. They are more likely to be customers. Therefore,

Did you always wanted to have an ordinary penis and ordinary women? We don.t think so. That.s why we are here with our offer.
Mega is translated "great". And this new development MegaDik makes your ramrod simply great!
Buy it and enjoy your new sexual experiences!
You.ll be so pleasantly surprised...

http://grurbd.com/ (..my suggestion - don't visit..)
MegaDik is your luck!

was of far less interest to him than the perception of him in Washington. exceeded the gross domestic.product of at least 42 member
himself that perhaps the right people were finally starting to listen to peers. He has a problem influencing policy, Byron Wien acknowledged.
the mountain. Said one senior investment manager, who related the may be buying or selling at this very minute, without me knowing.
to you or the regulators. Hedge funds should not be blamed, he possessed. That was their luck and our excuse. Yet here is a man who

Though i'm all for pleasant surprises, and i firmly believe that "MegaDik is my ~~fuck~~".. err, my bad - i mean "luck"; but i'm very happy with my present situation. Therefore, i'll clutch-grab my "ramrod" (..heh!!) and stay away from the "Did you always wanted"ness, the translations of "Mega" and any "new sexual experiences".

I wonder - "Ordinary Penis"s & "Ramrod"s - hah! ..and then "Ordinary Women" - i hate the classification - but i've met enough women to know that the ones who carry themselves 'ordinarily' (..in the connotation used here..) are the absolute best.
..and though i digress, my kudos to such women, and men who don't fall for shit like this.

Coming back - "Ramrod"..!? OMG! ..ha ha ha!!

Spellin'it

2008-01-17T03:23:00.003+05:30

..today.

As i sat in my comfy 'lil Sify iWay cubicle, surfing away happily, reading the most recent Kapgar and Dave posts, the guy in the next cubicle leaned over, and asked:

Guy: Excooz Me.. how do you spell "Nexus"..??

As my tongue rolled out the spelling in it's entirety, i wondered, if he knows how to use the word, he should bloody well know how to spell it! ..it's too fucking simple when syllablized.
Or does he even know what the word he's about to use, means..!?

Then i remembered about a coupl'ov days ago, when i was chatting with a friend, and i'd written to her - "Yes, i just recieved the picture.. thanx."

Mea Culpa.. of hypocrisy!

Coming..

2008-01-14T20:38:00.000+05:30

..right up!!

Yes, i have so much sitting in my cellphone, waiting to be posted.

Just observing..

2008-01-11T21:50:00.000+05:30

Parikshit - in Hindi translates to 'tested', obviously implying 'tested as compliant'.

I met him when i reached Nashik, and the guy has left no room for doubt, that he lives up to his name. Tried, tested, and verified - he gets my seal of approval as proper "buddy-material". We struck up an instant chemistry, and friendship was inevitable, given that he is now officially the 'Boyfriend' of a very close friend..!
Yeah, yeah, the intricacies of relationships!!

Training here at M&M, has exposed me to types of conversations, albeit by eavesdropping - which i so badly wanted in my College when i first joined, which i desired within my friend circle.
On my first day as i stood at the gate of the Plant-1, waiting for my Visitor Pass, i heard two employees as they walked in, flashing their access badges.

Big Red Nosed Guy : ..no! It needs to be calculated in Newtons per em-em squared.. or mega-Pascals. See, after all, all moduluses're expressed in those units, like..

Guy with Curly Hair : Right, okay. We can convert for all data then and check for the standards against specifications.

(..i was a little tempted to jump in and correct them to say 'moduli', but i knew the sheer weight of their intellect, had they chosen to stare me down, might crush me to into a nanoparticle!)

Yesterday, this..

Man on Phone : I'm not going to accept these parts. Forget validation, i myself wouldn't sanction their use.

*pause*

MoP : ..no no, you see the impact resistance of this particular panel needs to be higher. I have the reports from the lab and the hardness tests have results below acceptable standards.
Yes, yes sure.. see the plastic grade you're using has high flex-modulus, but below average tensile stress.

*pause*

MoP : ..aarey, why don't you try design and testing, with the material they're using for the new engine..!? That satisfies all our strength criteria. It has gone through validation Try that, yeah.. yes, and then call me back.
Okay?! Chalo, bye..

What absolute pleasure it must be, to live this life!

Bringin' in the Baby!!

2008-01-10T07:25:00.005+05:30

(disclaimer: This post may contain partial nudity, and/or shameless self praise. Only girls of all ages, and boys with conventional sexual preferences may read on..)

Okay, so this time the new year banged in with me not in new jeans, tee-shirts, or even socks.

I had a new jockey to flaunt! Yay..!! ..and boy, did i look saaxee!

:| ..boring. Aaanyway, 6th was interesting.

I, uh.. well towards evening actually, i went to the WonderMall Cinemax (Kapurbawadi, Thane) to watch, Taare Zameen Pe (Par..!?), and what a movie it turned out to be! Superb, par excellence; crafted, not made! Aamir Khan delivers a stunning performance, along with the child in the lead role. The role of the mother of the child is handled exceptionally well by Tisca Chopra, and the Father's role is done well enough to arouse emotions ranging from apathy to hatred. Brilliant ending too, i was shit scared thinking that the child would.. or err, wait. I'll hold the spoiler!

..before this beautiful experience that the movie turned out to be, i hobbled on to the WonderMall toilet for a leak. Guess what - no separators between the urine bowls (..not that i would like it, but i have no issues with men getting to see my pe.. umm.. you get the drift!).
So, i whipped my equipment out, and proceeded to aim and wet the pink Naphthalene Deodorant pellets, pushing them around and stuff. Just then, in walks a tall guy and looks around helplessly. Both the walls fitted with urinals were occupied by one pisser each - thankfully he decided to wait till i emptied.
My silly point being, do they design the toilets with a Mall Policy of not letting people peace pissfully.. or uh, whatever..!!?

Coming back to the movie though, the idea of Aamir treating the dyslexic kid the way he does, the pre and post release publicity with special children, and the whole 'special appearances' jazz, looked a tad ridiculous, (as my Sister pointed out) coming from Aamir Khan. This man left his first wife (..effectively, adversely affecting his children..) for another woman.
..then again, i probably shouldn't have any say in matters such as these.

7th. had me travelling to Nashik M&M, to work on my project with their R&D.

WHAT AN EXPERIENCE it is, to even be here, in this company complex, to be in the company of minds working with cutting edge technology, who start their days thinking about Metals, Plastics, Polymers, Engines, Aerodynamics, et cetera.
:D
..i guess i'm slightly overwhelmed with the professional environment!! Tee-hee! (..which got me giggling like a girl; and it's only been four days. :| )
Let's see what happens!

Juicy!!

2008-01-08T16:23:00.005+05:30

Bengal: ..the inertia driven hand operated mechanism using differential gears. (Rs. 4 only)

Nashik: ..the cow driven slow machine, where the human does literally nothing. (Rs. 10 only)

Bombay: ..the motor operated machine. (Rs. 8 ~ 10 only)

Gondia: ..the non-difference spur gear using, completely hand operated/rotated mechanism. (Rs. 5 only)

..the intelligence and economy of a particular population is a function of the simplicity and efficiency of the sugarcane juice machine and cost of a glass of juice from that very machine.

The answer to the Ultimate Question is 42.

Bombay, not Mumbai

2007-12-18T18:09:00.001+05:30

I am in bombay. Very much so.

..early on the day i reached, i was in a queue to get my train tickets to leap the last leg home. Just then, in walked a slick bitch, with the sole self-congratulatory purpose of cutting through the line and getting a ticket for herself and her Mum.

Yeah, Bitch.

..anyway, i have a policy, under which i do not interfere with any of such situations unless someone directly steps into the spot in front of me. That's 'cuz if the fuckhead who lets someone break a queue ain't bothered, why should i boil my precious blood..!?
I stood and watched her skank-ass purchase two Churchgate singles, without visible reaction.

It seems that if you have boobs, you hold license to use it to your advantage. Advantage, which can be very disadvantageous (ergo irritating) to the people around. With women getting so cocky, i think it's about time i grew my man-boobs. The 36-DD cup size, because this license sure follows the proverbial "..the bigger, the better!" punchline..!

Heh! Wait till i swing my twin-peaks in yer face - right after i get my hairy-hairy chest waxed!!

Travel this time was a tad funnier than last time, given that i was sitting with Mr. Hyper Inquisitive Esq. H.I. here, decided to get touchy feely with me more than what i'm comfortable with, touching the gasket bands on my left wrist to check whether it was synthetic-rubber, then touching my shirt to check the denier. Next, he took my cellphone cover and inspected it, asking its price. Then he found my luggage very interesting, and at about half'past ten in the night, he finally decided to dissect and shred my life for dessert - and i, mind you, gracefully entertained him throughout..!!

Plus, like last time - there was another finely mismatched couple, only, the husband was black this time.

Black, and i do mean black.
Nothing of the deep brown, chocolaty, mahogany, ebony and other such shit classification type.. and oh!.. the beautiful wife just couldn't get enough of this short black twit. In a blurry contrast, last time, the man couldn't get enough of his fugly wife.

Oh well, to compensate, the short journey by Bombay Local to my suburb, showed me a beautiful couple - the wife, wearing inexpensive imitation gold jewellery, and a flame red saree, with her husband sitting next to her, in a very nondescript white shirt, and with an old (and probably 'handed down' type) HMT watch on his left wrist - both their bodies swayed to the cumulative rhythm of the train, the man was leaning forward, slightly, and the woman had leaned into him and away from the co-passenger on her other side. Her gaze, was fixed outta the iron grilled window nearest to her, and her thin, almost frail palm was grasping the fist of her husband - when she rubbed it, in the tiniest of motions, he would immediately bolt to attention for her. She'd then smilingly say something into his ears, and they both smiled!

They were probably dressed for an occasion, with all her finery on her, and he wouldn't even lean into the backrest of the seat lest it spoiled the crease of his ironed white shirt. They were travelling in the second class compartment. Their smiles, obviously, were first class..
Somewhere, my mind spun, lies the answer to the puzzle which queries the relative relationships between money, love, and happiness. Love and happiness are closely intertwined, synonymous almost; but what about money, is it the protagonist, or is it the antagonist in covert..? To surmise, is my only option.

Money, fame, power, even these are closely related - money directly doesn't bring any misery, but i guess miserliness and greed certainly do. Sometimes, it seems as if our quest for reasons to not smile exceeds our quest for smiles and somehow, with all the luxuries that money provides - the curry of worry does end up staining an occasional dinner jacket. Maybe the love which is unfettered by fiscal thoughts in it's background gives a different happiness, the type which is true..

Maybe.
Hope i find out.

The UnVirgin

2007-12-06T21:18:00.002+05:30

It was the drowsiest afternoon, walking slowly on towards an evening - an evening warmer than the other winter evenings that came and went.

It was unexpected, and she then came to me, with her friend. She came with eyes which took my breath away, with curves that made my eyes gravitate to them.. i looked at her unabashedly, and she looked back, almost with what seemed like a smile. We were shortly introduced, my hands couldn't wait to touch her, feel her. She was of the darker shade, black, but black is often most beautiful. Full bodied, like a vintage claret - she had the looks. Her eyes were only slightly asymmetric. The smoothness of her skin was like a rose petal, and she had the voice of a cougar. The ground beneath her was lucky to touch her ethereat beauty only where her feet touched it precisely at two spots. Her figure, oh she could put many to shame.. and yet, her modesty lay in her calm, subtle and understated manner.

The feeling was animal.

Everything from then on, was a blur. Me holding her hand, touching her, tracing her curves as slow as the Sun raced to dip beyond the horizon. Her cooing, our conversations, both her hands reaching my hands, the touch, the maddening feel - everything happened so swiftly, so fluidly. The most natural thing to do was for me to take her out, to have her, make her mine, to taste every inch of finesse that she was.

Motion itself was a blur too, unspoken understanding made her all mine just how i'd wanted. I was on top of her. I was holding both her hands. Occasionally, i stroked her back - making love was the most beautiful, most exhilarating experience. My first time.
My legs, gripped her from either side of her, i raced her quick, always staying in pace, while always controlling our rhythm. I quickened our tempo, and brought her crashing down to the most agonizingly slow beat, i peaked her to the sky, and then floored her to the valley. Our breath was synchronized, our bodies moved in a rhyme, words were neither necessary nor possible. She complemented me, my moves, i complimented her prowess, the sensuousness of it all had brought tears to my eyes. When i returned, my friend simply smiled, he could see the traces which my tears had left on my face, midst my smile.

Not that it mattered much to me, but it had been first time. What did matter, was that it would be unforgettable. I was no more the virgin, i was broken, like a colt broken under the most strenuous sweat, and i had loved it.
..but i was guilty, guilty of the slightest slack in caution - i had not used any protection, and it must've been God, 'cuz i had been lucky that there were no accidents.
I had been lucky, to've been taken, in fidelity... with this beauty.

..err! I mean, with this beauty..

(..the lady in question was a spankin' new Bajaj Pulsar 220 DTSFi, which i topped to a hundred and twenty kilometers per hour, and then bayed to four kilometers per hour. Some say that the Pulsar is definitely male, but i don't see eye to eye with that thought, hence this isn't gay.. not at all! I rode with a pillion rider - Lux, and i rode without a helmet, it was irresponsible. I strongly suggest its use.)

Krayyzie..

2007-12-05T00:38:00.000+05:30

.. that's how the conversation started.

Me: "Would you take a bullet for me?"
Lux: *in a split second* "..obviously not!"
Me: "What the fu.. what about friendship? Would you simply let me die?"
Lux: "..but why the hell must i die?"
Me: "Dude, won't you even attempt to save me?! Nothing?? Damn, i'm stuck with friends from Hell.."
Lux: "..no no. I may stick in my hand, in the path of the bullet, but then the bullet might pass right through, and kill you anyway. So, why try??"

*..grumbling..*

Me: "So, you'll do nothing, eh?
Lux: "Look, if i'm sure that i can take the bullet without me myself ending up dead - i will. That too, only if i'm sure that, that bullet would be fatal to you."
Me: "..oh.."
Lux: "Yeah. What use is a friendship if i end up dead..!? Why don't you ask Dharma..??"

Me: "Why not, you.. D..?"
Dharma: "No no, if i take a bullet for you, who'll be left to take you to the hospital, who'll donate his O +(ve) blood when you need it the most..!?"

Me: :D "..and i'm AB +(ve). Universal acceptor..!"

True, and the best part about our relationship is that we might just take a bullet for each other, as long as is doesn't kill us. It is the ruthless humor blended with honesty like a well prepared smoothie, that i love about my tastiest friendships.

Later that night, or rather well into the newborn 5th. of November, we were having one more of our non-life-changing, useless conversations, right after we discussed love, and then the scientific validity of the belief that we shouldn't sleep with our bodies aligned head-toe with the north-south magnetic direction.

Lux: "I've often thought what'll it be like, to build a straight road. You know, irrespective of the curvature of earth. It'll be optically flat.."
Me: "Yeah, that'll be cool, huh.. imagine, you walk a thousand kilometers and you're suddenly two storys up in the air and looking down."
Lux: "Heh! Yeah, by the time we reach China, maybe.."
Me: "Also, think about this: If you build this road as long as the radius of the earth.."

(..here, i must state that we're talking, with Lux standing on the Toilet door, and i'm standing in the 'lil space with the basin, and mirror..)

Me: *i quickly wet a finger and draw on the mirror* "..imagine this is Earth, and.." *i completely draw a square with sides the size of the radius* "..this is the radius, so when you build this road, and reach as long as the Radius, you'll not only reach space, but you'll look at space even if you peek downwards!"
Lux: "Cool! ..and there would be people midway, selling us spacesuits!"
Me: "Heh!! Maybe cheap Chinese ones.." :))
Lux: "..yeah, but hey, if i walk this road, i should be seeing any slope, but if i reach the end and look behind me, then?"
Me: "No, you'll notice a slope only if you compare your road with the Earth in backdrop. Or, you'll 'feel' the slope due to gravity as you'll pull your weight against a rise in height above Earth."
Lux: "Yes, true.."
Me: "Good idea though..!"
Lux: "Hmmm.. hey, when i'm standing on the Toilet level, i'm taller than you!"
Me: "Get out! I'm still taller.."
Lux: "No.. just compare by shoulders.."

*after a while of measuring and verifying*

Me: "Yeah, you are a tiny bit taller while you're standing there.." *looking at my watch*
Lux: "Shouldn't we, like Sleep??"

Me: *looking at my watch again* "Shit. It's two..! Let's sleep."
Lux: "..night!"

Life - parabled..

2007-11-12T15:45:00.000+05:30

1. I was sitting there craning my neck at an obtuse angle, looking at the computer screen a little away. Lux was sitting in front of the computer, watching porn.

Soft Porn.

..anyway, i was only two feet away - trying very hard, not to think about the twenty pages i had to write..

Back to Back.

After a while, i found out that even plugging my ears with earphones and playing loud music wasn't good enough.. because, i had to pause my music, and ask him to replay an interesting bit i was'bout to miss. Where the guy in the video slowly rubs the belly of the actress. (..actress?! Yeah right..!)

Heh!
My concentration wavered as much as a flag on a pirate ship. Things got better when Lux decided to sleep. That left - just me, and my work!!
..completed at 0545hrs.

2. One of my favorite bloggers, a superb narrator with a freely flowing style of wording himself recently wrote about the INYIM phenomenon.

Follow the link, it's interesting, and worth it.. but for the lazy crowd - INYIM, is short for "It's Not You, It's Me", i classic phrase used by women.. and now i know that it's used by women all over the world - to shake their men off.
It's usually spoken in a soft voice, to lend to it, the air of credence. Eyes are probably fluttered, breathing, and sighs are modulated, to create melodrama.. it's a fucking stageshow.

Heh..! Now i would've said something like '..i wonder how it feels to be the man in this situation..', but you've guessed right - i've already been in this fucked up situation.
Only once.
..and that was enough. So i know how exactly it feels to be there. To be in a situation where you've nothing to retaliate with, nothing to fight back with. A man feels so, so damn stranded in this predicament, so caught up. We're men, natural at problem solving. Imagine what happens when you suddenly take the problem away, and tell us that it's because a solution is impossible. Imagine the frustration of being told that it's not you, it's someone else who's at fault - so there ain't on damn thing you can do about it, the fault that is changing your life.

The ruthlessness with which girls say this, removes any doubts of its veracity whatsoever. The dishonest ruthlessness which makes a woman say this also brings them to do "this" (from the same blogger).. which, is "wrong numbering". Another interesting trick, a deceit well played, this is a less involved kinda' thing, where the girl gives a guy the wrong number when he asks for it. Thereby making any communication - impossible. Why, as the author of the original post also wonders, can't a girl let the poor guy know at the first place, that she isn't interested..!? Is it so difficult to tell the truth, or be honest on face?? Is manipulation, and deceit a way of life..?

..apparantly, if you're a woman. It's lifestyle!

3. The other day, i saw this beautiful girl at college.

Well, it actually was not the first time that i was seeing her. She is a junior, of the damnamazingly good looking type! I, however got to speak to her for the very first time now. One on one, so this time i really got to SEE her.
She is tall, with big black doe eyes, long hair, slender neck. The works..

Beautiful.. and her smile, as i was telling a friend, could put a 100watt Phillips bulb to shame. Plus, if she can be defined as hot, you could say she was smokin'.. and i do mean the "touch-her-with-a-matchstick-&-get-a-light" kinda smokin' hot!

Then, a little later, while i was strutting my happy ass across my department floor, realization suddenly struck me - what'm i being so smug about?!.. probably another sly shifty specimen of the female make. Another trick, another deceit.
Fucking worthless, every time..

4. More successful rodent (et cetera) hunts. Back to back again.. this is life on earth. 'Cuz it is, after all, an Animal Planet..!

..i know i don't have too many foreign visitors, but in case the point is ever raised, Yes, we.. i mean mice and humans, do coexist in my country! Maybe not in harmony, but we do live togeth..
..ah, you must've got the idea!

p.s. Which reminds me, the other day when i went for a walk to our college, with Lux., we came out of our lane, and saw a bull courting a cow. A few minutes later, and at only about twenty meters from us, another bull was busy doing the cow. Doggystyle.
..further up the road, a dog was busy humping a bitch, real fast.
..near the college, we saw one goat, standing with three female goats - he obviously had been busy, from the looks of his equipment.
..at the college gate, another bull was busy with a cow.

What the hell..!? ..was it International Sex Day or something?! Wish i remembered what the exact date was..
:D

State of affairs | affairs of State

2007-10-26T15:21:00.000+05:30

Only yesterday, Rashmi called me up - almost agitated, and asked me to go watch a particular News Channel.

They were airing, what they called, a "sensational disclosure" about the involvement, uhh no.. rather the active participation of the State Government, in the appalling riots in Gujrat in the year 2002. Which, if some memories need jogging, is more infamously known as the Godhra carnage..

The news piece showed how, when The Hindus were killing The Muslim population in what supposedly was a fit of anger, things were actually ployed, plotted, and the plots were ruthlessly, but carefully executed. Everything was a nexus, that the Bajrang Dal, Vishwa Hindu Parishad, Shiv Sena, Bharatiya Janata Party, everybody, everyone who had power and were in the seat of power were playing a nasty game where the lives of people were at stake.

..sounds just like a movie, eh?
It's for real.

Men, free men - may i add; were caught professing (definitely not confessing, that connotation was missing) on tape how they'd chopped off arms and legs and set dismembered bodies on fire, how they'd driven swords into the soft bellies of pregnant women. Real men were caught telling that they locked entire families in the confines of their own homes, and set it on fire. Policemen were praised, for shooting men and women - at will.
Obviously, these men, every one of them, swore about having the unfaltering support of the then Chief Minister, and police.

On being questioned, everybody is denying allegations on them. Even this entire 'sting operation', as it is notoriously called - has no backbone which lends it absolute credibility. Just like stale leftovers, it whiffs of the conspiracy of an attention hungry Media.

Who can we trust? Who may we believe in? Our sources of information? Leaders we elect? Leaders who supposedly lead us even when we've never actually voted for them? Is this the life we deserve in Democracy? Is it fair to us? Is a little honesty so difficult? Is honor such a rare commodity?
Do we, as humans - the most cognitive and intelligent animals on Mother Earth, deserve to populate this planet?

..after all this?

..i must've hyperventilated. Plus, i know i've not written this well.
Especially after this: I went downstairs to our landlady to take the key to the room belonging to her father-in-law (it has the television set). I told her about what was being aired on the news channels. That was when our landlady's 13 yr old son came to me, and in all of childish curiosity asked me what suddenly got me in mood for the idiot box.. i, to simply simplify the reply, told him that they were showing Some news about Some incidents that happened in Gujrat, sometime ago.

His Question : "Why watch that, huh? What difference does it make to you, if something happens or it doesn't - in Gujrat..!?!?"

Child is the father of Man.
A child with an attitude like this, with a point of view so conceited, will be the next generation. They'll be the next Indians to build India.

..lord help us.

EDIT :

Actually, something else was also discussed by Rashmi and yours truly.

When we finished doing ourselves tired, talking about the 'whys' and 'hows' of people fighting over religion, caste, creed, color, and now also over ethnicity from within the same country.. we had turned to what we could do to change this world.
Keeping in tune with the song 'Waiting on the World to Change' (..by John Mayer) we promptly dropped that line before we could even reach the part where we talked about our responsibilities. We beat our swift retreats..

..so, as i was saying - we finally reached a bend in the road where She started to tell me what is presently happening in the North Eastern states of our own country.
Question time.. how many people know what exactly is going no there, while we're busy conveniently stereotyping the people there as 'Chinky'..!?

Here's the deal..
Villages are being mass converted from their original religions, and signs are being put up at the village gates to indicate a successful mass conversion. People in such villages have no access whatsoever to any newspapers, and the cable operators burn out any news content. Political authorities don't give a fuck, like always, and they're letting no tourism happen in the states there. Money, and job inflow is null. People are feeling cut-off.
This is, as per present beliefs, the working of China - which, if true, is a truly pathetic condition for any portion of our country to be in. A portion, which an international survey touts to be nearly as beautiful as Switzerland.. and isn't it absolutely miserable that we're either unaware about or indifferent towards a part of our own country? Doesn't it arouse pity, that so many of us treat a certain number of our own countrymen as inferior, that we treat then like a burden, an appendix.

All this happens because we know so little about them, and to ice this cake, we make no corrective efforts whatsoever. All that they need is our attention, our presence, and our patience. We only need to be a family to them - putting aside all our prejudices we must visit the area. The moment that that area will experience an influx of tourists from the rest of this country - the people there will have us to interact with, and this way, the absurd politico-religious takeover attempts of any undesirable element could be thwarted.

I know that this diary has very limited readership - but i'd request even any chance wayfarer to take the cause of our own nation to heart - go, reach out, to our own people. Travel to the extremities, which we've turned away from. Bike, if you're a devil on two wheels - take a flight if your bones ask you for comfort. Take a railroad trip.
Live our country. Educate others to travel every nook and cranny of this planet, and to start off with this country first - so that we're not left with a nation full of indifferent people in the generations to come..

..like my landlord's son.

Uncouth Bastard

2007-10-05T17:44:00.000+05:30

There i was, sitting.. chatting with my fabulous and intelligent friend.. smiling at our jokes, banter, typing while laughing, laughing while typing.
Suddenly, every computer, every fluorescent bulb, except those hooked to the UPS went dead.

I sat there, a little dejected, and whipped out my cellphone to type in a message of apology to the people i was chatting with. There was a cough behind me, and with it, came a whiff of acute bad breath - the height of halitosis - and after what i judged to be a reasonably safe pause to avoid a second cough; i turned to the criminal.

He sat there nonchalant to the T.
A junior.
I fixed him one of my 'put ice on fire' looks.. i was outta practice, but then it worked. He turned, and gave a small self-admonitory cough in the confines of his own chest.

I wiped my collar; another day, another dollar..

Dream of Pursuit

2007-09-27T17:39:00.001+05:30

The last time i had a dream which i remembered, was on the 18th. of August.
That had been a quaint morning, i woke up dreaming about snakes! Loads of'em. Not just that, i dreamt of a white cobra.
Yup!
A full bodied, shiny, white, hooded cobra. It was coiled under something, and i was petting it's hood. Imagine!

I'm not particularly interested in snakes, or mostly anything, for that matter - in my dream, but just to get the mythological angle on it, i told my mom. Just as i rolled off my bed, i told her about the snakes in my dream. "Must be something good..", she said. Then, i ventured further, and told her that i'd seen a white Cobra too. She turned to me, and with a grin, said, "..eta ektu beshi'ee gænja hoye gelo..!" (..effectively, meaning that i'm foaming too much from my brain. :| ..)

Well, burying that with humor, we both made a move for our complimentary breakfast, and, as coincidences tend always to go, on the way to the hotel restaurant, i glanced at the newspaper.

It was 'Nag Panchami'.

It was 'Nag Panchami', where, if the situation isn't apparent, may i add - 'Nag' means 'Cobra', and 'Panchami' stands for the fifth day of the month. The day was a festival on which the Cobra is worshipped as per Hindu mythology. For a moment there, i stood to stabilize my mental gymnastics.. and then i checked the date on the article, and the date of the newspaper. Oh Yes, today, it was.
I tried to think, remember rather: whether i'd had any conversations, watched anything on the t.v. or thought an iota of anything even remotely pertaining to Snakes.
Nope.
If my memory was to be believed, i was watching Cartoon Network on the previous night, where the 'Powerpuff Girls' were bashing up 'Mojo Jojo' - a failed villain, who, to put it crudely, is a monkey.

Well, so much for that. I never could figure out what 'that' dream was all about. I did, much later, turn to my e-copy of Freude's notorious 'Interpretation of Dreams'. I was not expecting to find anything with a religious connotation, but Freude did tell me what i'd always suspected..
..that the Snake (any snake, for that matter) is a phallic symbol, and it represents trepidation regarding sex..!

Heh..! That 'ol bastard.
No wonder!.. however, after researching a little, online, i came across the following:

1. In the Vedic mythology and in Native American culture, the Snake is a symbol of wisdom, and knowledge.
2. The Cobra, in a dream, is symbolic of enlightenment. It represents the awakening of the Kundalini (..it actually represents the life force that rises up the spinal chord). {This one is queer, 'cuz incidentally, i've heard the word 'kundalini' many times over, from one particular person.}
3. The Cobra signifies discretion, wisdom, flexibility and beauty in Chinese Mythology.
4. Snakes symbolized immortality, and sometimes victory (maybe from death) in Greek Mythology..

..wish i could visit the temple of Aesculapius. So much for that..

More recently, i had a dream. A peculiarly clear dream, crystal-clear, which makes me write this.

Almost everyone must've dreamt of one's beloved. So have i.
Has anyone ever dreamt of his, or her beloved with so much clarity, that he or she has felt the texture of the other's skin?? Has anyone felt the stirring after kissing the tip of the nose of one's love?! Has anyone heard the whispered voice of the other, like a thunder in one's ear..?

I have!

25th morning, and i always dream in the mornings.. which sort'ov pisses me off for occasionally missing the good endings of my dreams. Well, as i was saying, the morning of the 25th. day of the ninth month of year 2007, i woke up - not fresh and smiling, but covered by my blanket, and wanting this particular dream to go on, and on, and on, and on.. wanting it never to end.
Wanting to kiss that shoulder, wanting to hear that voice forever, wanting to feel the soft fingertips on me, wanting to see that smile, wanting to experience the rhythmic breathing eternally, wanting to breath in that intoxicating fragrance, wanting to breath in unison..

..and those words. God only could bear witness to the passion in our words. Words i was wanting to truly hear. So many of them.

Wanting, but never getting.
All, in vain.

Till the night of 25th. even this village was magnificent. Everything shone.. i wanted to understand this dream, this sign from the sub-conscious.
By yesterday evening, reality was back by my side. Ever the ruthless companion, showing the truth, in uncolored terms. Showing me, that a dream is simply a dream, voices are what we speak and wish to hear. It's nothing but a figment of what we yearn for, continually.

Today, the pursual of my love, my pursuit of happiness, is my dream. Tomorrow survival will be my dream. My desire.

(Writing those words in sequence, reminds me ..in the movie, 'The Pursuit of Happyness', a Rubik's cube, just like this one, plays lynchpin to Christopher Gardener's pursual. No detail is unimportant. I've only reached this far, i'll complete it. Someday.)

p.s. "It was right then that I started thinking about Thomas Jefferson on the Declaration of Independence and the part about our right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. And I remember thinking how did he know to put the pursuit part in there? That maybe happiness is something that we can only pursue and maybe we can actually never have it. No matter what. How did he know that?" - Christopher Gardener 'The Pursuit of Happyness' (from imdb)

To Sir with Love

2007-09-14T17:27:00.000+05:30

Sir: "Either my english is bad, or you doesn't understand english.. is it so hard to understand what i saying??"

Me: "No sir.."

Sir: "Then why you repeatedly asking same question from me again and again..?"

Me: "Sorry sir. I don't know english, it was i who failed to comprehend you."

Sir: "Okay okay.."

Gangulpara

2007-08-23T06:19:00.000+05:30

(On The 'high'way..)

It was entirely not planned to coincide with 'Friendship Day', but as fate and date would've had it, we left for Gangulpara at around 8 in the morning, on the 5th. of Aug.. a marginally sunny Sunday. It was, after all, Friendship Day!

(..definitely Something funny had been said!)

Riding till there was fun, with people taking turns with the 'Karizma' and having fun racing each other over short spurts. The only two girls outta us ten (..p.s. - a girl rode pillion with me; first time ever..), had the entire wind in their hair, and no opportunity of fun was spared.. not even pissing! (for men only)

(Men will be Men..!)

After traveling around 50km to Balaghat, and another 7km to Bharveli, and we traveled the last leg of 15km on canopied roads of Madhya Pradesh the final few miles of which was rock-terrain. The ride was marvelous; the weather was fantastic and the company priceless.. and all words would fail in describing the setting of our little outing! It was, like they say in the adventure novels - in the lap of nature.

(Me clicking the other nine..)

(En Route.)

(Near the fall.. at the stream.)

We immediately set up two primitive-fires to cook, and we, with the girls - chopped, grated, mashed, and sliced away at our supplies. One 'sabzee' never reached culmination due to a slight drizzle, but as a substitute, the girls cooked a sweet preparation of 'cottage cheese', which we immediately christened 'Paneer Gangulpara'..! Chandan and yours truly got us the chicken, cooked and steaming tender with garlic and pepper!
Ohhhh..! Yumm!!

(The Firestarterz..)

(Sweeet Corn Soup - Extra Corny! :D)

(In prep. for Lunch..)

Then, after we belted our food, washed our plates, and felt a little heavy in the head.. with sleep, of course!.. we decided to head for the water. Changed, and ready, we (only three guys) climbed to the fall, through slippery moss coated rocks and sat in midst of the stream. It was a thundering mass of foaming white water, rushing past our bodies and drumming our heads when we put us in the middle. The water was as cold as the rocks and as we discovered later - full of caterpillar larvae..! This revelation sent the other two scampering down to the safety of dry clothes, and only i stayed, dipping myself in the cold stream flow, in the path of the raging water, and spitting out an occasional larva that entered my mouth!! It was pure fun!

(..a little after the bath.)

We changed, and left the place our goodbyes.. heading straight for the Gangulpara Dam.. and what a place it was! Serene, calm, the only sounds there were those of our mirth; the only movement was of us and the swaying wind. We opened our sweets for dessert and had'em, the shutters captured the most beautiful moments, and a while later from there, started our ride back to our places; i took the Wind on return, and even in the darkness of the monsoon evening, we returned happy - with still enough energy to snaffle our dinners..! We sat in our house, discussing the day, the funny moments, and the beauteous location while we looked at the pictures.. promising to go out more often, to return there, and go further..
..with or without plans!

(At the Dam.)

(Friendship Day - 10Hands)

(Roomiez Ink. ..!)

The best picnic i've had here; till we return!

Mishaps

2007-08-19T18:12:00.000+05:30

The fear of death, of loss of life, is probably the greatest of man's fears. The unexpected and possibly very abrupt closure of one's existence must be a terrifying thing to think of.. i mean, i'm pretty shit sacred of my own end. However, i don't and i guess we all don't think of it so often. It's only with some incidents, that we remember that we're so utterly fallible.

The 3rd. of August had just started, and it was about 2:40 in the night. The humidity from an evening of rain had just cleared, the streets were wet where the tires touched the surface, but some aberrant patches were starting to dry up. The silence of the night was disturbed only by an occasional truck or a howling long distance bus; and on this night, by the soft sobbing of women. I say women, because when the sound was brought to my attention - by my roomie, i didn't know that they were two girls. One maybe 18 and the other 15..
Laxman debated with me over the wisdom of going over to check what happened (his dime, in here), but with a steel pipe in my hand, i was decided on finding out what happened. Reaching the throat of our lane, onto the main road, i only saw the two girls first. Crying.
Then i saw the woman - crumpled on the ground, and a man, clinging to her absolutely-motionless frame, and he was sobbing. The entire road was devoid of any other signs of life.

Dropping the rod, i rushed to the woman, checking for a pulse, howmuchever mild.. there obviously was none; her pallor and cold stiffness attested her death, and none of her three relatives were in a condition to tell what had happened. Trying hard not to lose logic, i got my roomies at the place, and asked them to call and arrange for an ambulance, and i went to get a bike.. thankfully one 'Manu' was awake, and when i sped back to where the woman was, i found some twenty people standing in a circle - commenting, advising, and probably just thanking God that it wasn't them in that situation.

Throwing this setting off my mind, we reached the hospital with an ambulance in tow, which was refusing to be of service at near to 3 in the morning, and we saw a doctor who was as clinical with death as he was indolent at duty. I had to request him to perform cardiopulmonary resuscitation, and he smiled back at me, saying: "Inka time ho chuka hai, ab karke koi fayda nahin hai.. toh bhi, tum 'insist' kar rahe ho to main kar deta hoon." (..her time is up, there's no use of CPR. However, since you insist.. i'll try it.)

The doctor needed 'insistance' to try to try to save a life. What the fuck happened to the Hippocratic oath?!

By then, the woman's husband wore the most impassive face i had ever seen, he stood listening, as the doctor prated on about how a post mortem report was necessary before he could handle the body further, and how to get that burden taken care of.. quick.
The man had lost his companion of life, the girls had lost the woman who brought them to life. The loss, obviously was so great, that i wished for a moment that i could somehow entirely eliminate the existance of such pains, of such unfortunate and unnecessary incidents.

The woman was dead, and people who didn't know each other, who'd probably never meet again, parted ways to get back home. To bask in the joy of life.. i was returning too, with Dharma. From what i found out, the woman was apparently returning from a clinic, after bouts of sudden stomach and heartache.. and dropped dead while on her walk back home.
Death was pretty easy at two thirty in the night; i just hope it was painless. I guess it is pretty useless to hope thus, but.. oh well.

Then again, on the 9th. of August, Laxman and i were just getting ready to go for our classes, when a phone-call changed the entire day.

Aditya, Pratyush's cousin, was in hospital. He had bled profusely from his nose in the morning, and failed to register any motor-functioning immediately after his convulsions. When he regained consciousness, his memory failed to recollect what had happened, and he could not recognize anybody. When i reached, he was better - with the Intra-Cath planted firmly on the back of his palm. He had already been administered with seven injections.. and it was only ten in the morning. He joked: "Doosri baar hospital aa raha hoon.. pehle jab peyda hua tha, aur fir aaj..!" (..it's my second coming to a hospitat; first time was when i was born, and then today!)

Over the day, he was ferried over to different places, to get his brain scanned and X-rayed, and that revealed a lesion under an oedematous space in the left frontal lobe. The doctors discussed the worst, and the best - hoping that it would be curable simply by medicine, and without surgery. Medication, if selected, would be for three continuous years.
I, alongwith the other boys, saw the tears roll, freely off the women of the family. We saw the distraught faces of the men.. who wanted so desperately to believe a better second opinion.

Here, again was fear of loss; of the inevitable but kinda' avoidable.. the underlying, but unspoken question in everybody's voice, when they asked Aditya how he was - got to him. The doubt was whether he would be alright, whether he'd regain health like he had it.. would he live proper? ..but no one gave voice or volume to the question. On a phonecall with one of his classmates, Aditya said: "Ye log kuch bataa bhi nahin rahey mujhe; kuch toh bhi serious hua hoga. Dekhte hain kya hota hai mera.." (..people here aren't telling me anything, must be something serious. Let's see what happens to me.)

Thankfully, by the end of the day, the question gave way to belief that the second opinion would be good, and he would pick up on his health.. smiles flowed with conversation, and conversations flowed with ease. Aditya was in a good mood, and alongwith his classmates, we teased him.

There however, was one thing that caught my attention. Aditya was looking at his phone continuously.. and always kept it screen-side down when we approached. I casually asked him: 'Su's Photo?!', and he smiled with his broad grin, confirming that he indeed was looking at the girl he loved! He asked me whether he should call her, and i advised against it. I told him to hope that she finds out by herself, so that he doesn't end up looking like he's craving sympathy. He thought for a few moments, and nodded assent. Then he grabbed his cellphone, and looked at what was important to him.. at the picture of his beloved. It was not odd at all, that he didn't open a photo-file of his family, of his parents.. to him, his love brought the greatest solace, and of course, she found out and visited him in the evening. He was such a happy man.. in possession of words of concern from someone the heart yearns for.

Maybe that pulled him through, through his ailment, and to his smiles. Some fears were assuaged, some were repressed.

My fears held me. Some still do..
I need health for the people i love.. and maybe all others who deserve it.

NSS Trip

2007-08-11T17:25:00.000+05:30

I was at the Nawegaon National Park (MH) the other day. As my first trip under the National Service Scheme banner, it was an agreeably pleasant one at that..!
By the way, there were 35 girls outta the 180 students who came, and well, it still was fun..
..or that's what we prefer to believe!

Here're the pics:

(..our social efforts..)

(..errrm.. Posing silly!)

(The, ugh.. 'babes' were complimentary..!!)

(..bai, trying to drill some sense into me!)

(Screaming @ Lux, just before return.. )

Called, an asshole..

2007-08-04T03:04:00.000+05:30

With some friends, friendship is more than a deal. It's like an implicit understanding, an understanding of the psyche of the friend. The complete unbiased knowledge of what the other is, in exact unflattering terms.
..and that's what i was given on a phone call with T. In no uncertain terms!!

Me: "Hey! Long time.."

T: "Shut up! What do you think of yourself?? Ha? I gave you a thousand missed calls, and you never called back. Not even a message? You don't even give of a missed call in return??"
Me: "Hey, it's been raining here a lot and my balance is like some four bucks.."
T: "It's raining everyday?"
Me: "No. It rained today, it didn't rain yesterday, and on the days before that it rained continuously.. and it's gonna rain tomorrow!"
T: "Just shut up.. can't you go a little out of the way to call me?! Don't tell me you don't have a PCO near your place."
Me: "If you want me not to tell you, i won't, but that's the way it is. I need to walk a mile in this village before i get to the first pay-phone.. and you know well that i'm too lazy to go out!"
T: "Okay, but why didn't you give me even a single missed call.."
Me: "I would have. Just now actually.. you know, you really don't give me enough time!"
T: "Urrghh!"
Me: "Heh!"
T: "You know, there's just one word to describe you. Asshole.. you're an asshole."
Me: "Ooooh! I'm glad you got 'that' off your chest..!"
T: "Just shut up! I'll never call you after this. This is the last time ever. You take me for granted.."
Me: "I've lost count of how many times you've actually told me that!! This gotta be, like, your hundredth 'last' call. Plus, you know you can't live without talking to me.." (..with smug grin!)
T: "I'll kill you, i swear. You meet me, and i'll kill you..!"
Me: "Oh, another hundredth time you've threatened me with that!"
T: "Remember, we didn't speak for three years when i last decided not to."
Me: "Your loss!.. and it was for two years we didn't talk, not three. Look at us now - i forget, i'm too lazy, but we're still going strong! Of course, we have fights, but still you end up smiling.. and always calling me back! :D"
T: "You really are an asshole!"

(..twenty minutes into the call..)

Me: "..okay! Grand that you got all the attention! Well now as for calling and stuff, we've already spoken, so i don't need to call you, right!? i mean, we've talked for this week!"
T: "You!.. you'll have to call me. I've called you three times in a row. It's your turn."
Me: "What the.. hey! You're at home, you can call me; i'm just a poor student with limited resou.."
T: "Just shut up! You.. oh god! Just call me. Aaarggghh! Just call me once, even if for a minute. I'll call you back! Okay..!!"
Me: "Oh okay..!"
T: "My goodness! You're really.."
Me: "O c'mon! Are you gonna call me an asshole again?!"
T: "No."
Me: "Please! Please, i wanna hear it off of you..
T: "No way.. and i need to know about what you were about to tell me, i also need to talk to yo.. bye bye bye. Mom is here."
Me: "Hey how'bout a nice soft social goodbye..?"
T: "Okay okay! You.. okay. Good night, and sweet sweet dreams!!"
Me: "Bye!"
*click!*

Some friendships are destined to be!