ghum toh bohot hain zindagi mein...
parr aap jaisa ghum kabhi kabhi milta hai...
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Friday, December 26, 2008
Ignorance
After exactly two years and few weeks more, today I bumped into the control panel and all other features of my camera. Heights of ignorance ! Wait then, what were all those 200 odd pics todate about ? Photography someone said ?
Feeling as if I rode a car miles together without it's engine connected to a propeller shaft.
Feeling as if I rode a car miles together without it's engine connected to a propeller shaft.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Now that my patience has been tested and my endurance limit just about reached and breached, I can rightly feel vindicated by claiming that there is no such thing as 'true love'.
I will settle with this fact now. Both mind and heart can happily co-exist. One knows there isn't anything for real, the other will hallucinate. Fine as long as they are at peace and as long as I am not disturbed by their activities.
I will settle with this fact now. Both mind and heart can happily co-exist. One knows there isn't anything for real, the other will hallucinate. Fine as long as they are at peace and as long as I am not disturbed by their activities.
A million thoughts and a zillion doubts fabricated my mind during childhood. Genuine, genius and silly doubts co-existed. Lack of intellect gave birth to half-baked ones while complex thoughts to doubts of complex order.
Unanswered questions lead to restlessness. A chain of queries turned it into a consuming affair. Looking back, I smirk at the way thoughts manufactured doubts. My plate was full of complex queries and equally silly ones. Am using these three terms interchangeably at some places.
Once, during my childhood, after much self-debate I came to a conclusion that all dogs had same faces and features. Every time I looked into a dog's face, only one question popped up ~ do they hold the same sentiments towards us ? Meaning do they see all humans with same faces too then ? Self counter. Now when I look at Chinkus, a similar question replays. No, this is not to belittle their race as such.... but I feel they are tough to distinguish. Later I wonder if its equally tough for them to differentiate from a group of Indians.
In another instance, I use to look at objects, stop and take my eyes off them. Then question myself if they put still without making faces or giggling at me, for I always felt everything around was a mere pretention.
So how do these examples fit into the theme of this post you may question. I am not exactly sure either. May be its a demo of how our minds work as a kiddu.
Childish stuff ;) . Everything is more or less the same. I still doubt, question and get restless. But on topics a 'grown up' ponders over. Not on what a dog thinks, a mosquito feels or emotions of some lame object towards you and me. Ages have gone by and now I extend the same doubt theory towards people around me. I feel everyone is pretentious.
Doubts, questions or queries of childhood are sweet and evoke laughter and love. That of an old mind can prove dangerous - breaking ties and severing those threads of belief.
In whatever magnitude doubts strike an old mind, they always possess a strong potential of damaging the strongest of foundations called trust and faith.
Unanswered questions lead to restlessness. A chain of queries turned it into a consuming affair. Looking back, I smirk at the way thoughts manufactured doubts. My plate was full of complex queries and equally silly ones. Am using these three terms interchangeably at some places.
Once, during my childhood, after much self-debate I came to a conclusion that all dogs had same faces and features. Every time I looked into a dog's face, only one question popped up ~ do they hold the same sentiments towards us ? Meaning do they see all humans with same faces too then ? Self counter. Now when I look at Chinkus, a similar question replays. No, this is not to belittle their race as such.... but I feel they are tough to distinguish. Later I wonder if its equally tough for them to differentiate from a group of Indians.
In another instance, I use to look at objects, stop and take my eyes off them. Then question myself if they put still without making faces or giggling at me, for I always felt everything around was a mere pretention.
So how do these examples fit into the theme of this post you may question. I am not exactly sure either. May be its a demo of how our minds work as a kiddu.
Childish stuff ;) . Everything is more or less the same. I still doubt, question and get restless. But on topics a 'grown up' ponders over. Not on what a dog thinks, a mosquito feels or emotions of some lame object towards you and me. Ages have gone by and now I extend the same doubt theory towards people around me. I feel everyone is pretentious.
Doubts, questions or queries of childhood are sweet and evoke laughter and love. That of an old mind can prove dangerous - breaking ties and severing those threads of belief.
In whatever magnitude doubts strike an old mind, they always possess a strong potential of damaging the strongest of foundations called trust and faith.
If It's Meant To Be, It Will Be!
As I walked home one freezing day, I stumbled on a wallet someone had lost in the street. I picked it up and looked inside to find some identification so I could call the owner. But the wallet contained only three dollars and a crumpled letter that looked as if it had been in there for years.
The envelope was worn and the only thing that was legible on it was the return address. I started to open the letter, hoping to find some clue. Then I saw the dateline -1924. The letter had been written almost sixty years ago.
It was written in a beautiful feminine handwriting on powder blue stationery with a little flower in the left-hand corner. It was a 'Dear John' letter that told the recipient, whose name appeared to be Michael and said that the writer could not see him any more because her mother forbade it. Even so, she wrote that she would always love him. It was signed, Hannah.
It was a beautiful letter, but there was no way except for the name Michael, that the owner could be identified. Maybe if I called information, the operator could find a phone listing for the address on the envelope.
'Operator,' I began, ' this is an unusual request. I'm trying to find the owner of a wallet that I found. Is there anyway you can tell me if there is a phone number for an address that was on an envelope in the wallet?'
She suggested I speak with her supervisor, who hesitated for a moment then said, 'Well, there is a phone listing at that address, but I can't give you the number.' She said, as a courtesy, she would call that number, explain my story and would ask them if they wanted her to connect me. I waited a few minutes and then she was back on the line. 'I have a party who will speak with you.'
I asked the woman on the other end of the line if she knew anyone by the name of Hannah. She gasped, 'Oh! we bought this house from a family who had a daughter named Hannah. But that was 30 years ago!'
'Would you know where that family could be located now?' I asked. 'I remember that Hannah had to place her mother in a nursing home some years ago,' the woman said. 'Maybe if you got in touch with them they might be able to track down the daughter.'
She gave me the name of the nursing home and I called the number. They told me the old lady had passed away some years ago but they did have a phone number for where they thought the daughter might be living. I thanked them and phoned. The woman who answered explained that Hannah herself was now living in a nursing home.
This whole thing was stupid, I thought to myself. Why was I making such a big deal over finding the owner of a wallet that had only three dollars and a letter that was almost 60 years old?
Nevertheless, I called the nursing home in which Hannah was supposed to be living and the man who answered the phone told me, 'Yes, Hannah is staying with us.'
Even though it was already 10 p.m., I asked if I could come by to see her. 'Well,' he said hesitatingly, 'if you want to take a chance, she might be in the day room watching television.'
I thanked him and drove over to the nursing home. The night nurse and a guard greeted me at the door. We went up to the third floor of the large building. In the day room, the nurse introduced me to Hannah.
She was a sweet, silver-haired old timer with a warm smile and a twinkle in her eye. I told her about finding the wallet and showed her the letter. The second she saw the powder blue envelope with that little flower on the left, she took a deep breath and said, ' Young man, this letter was the last contact I ever had with Michael.'
She looked away for a moment deep in thought and then said softly, 'I loved him very much. But I was only 16 at the time and my mother felt I was too young. Oh, he was so handsome. He looked like Sean Connery, the actor.'
'Yes,' she continued, 'Michael Goldstein was a wonderful person. If you should find him, tell him I think of him often and,' she hesitated for a moment, almost biting her lip, 'tell him I still love him. You know,' she said smiling as tears began to well up in her eyes, 'I never did marry, I guess no one ever matched up to Michael.'
I thanked Hannah and said goodbye. I took the elevator to the first floor and as I stood by the door, the guard there asked, 'Was the old lady able to help you?' I told him she had given me a lead. 'At least I have a last name. But I think I'll let it go for a while. I spent almost the whole day trying to find the owner of this wallet.'
I had taken out the wallet, which was a simple brown leather case with red lacing on the side. When the guard saw it, he said, ' Hey, wait a minute! That's Mr. Goldstein's wallet. I'd know it anywhere with that right red lacing. He's always losing that wallet must have found it in the halls at least three times.'
'Who's Mr. Goldstein?' I asked as my hand began to shake. 'He's one of the old timers on the 8th floor. That's Mike Goldstein's wallet for sure. He must have lost it on one of his walks.' I thanked the guard and quickly ran back to the nurse's office. I told her what the guard had said. We went back to the elevator and got on. I prayed that Mr. Goldstein would be up.
On the eighth floor, the floor nurse said, 'I think he's still in the day room. He likes to read at night. He's a darling old man. 'We went to the only room that had any lights on and there was a man reading a book. The nurse went over to him and asked if he had lost his wallet. Mr. Goldstein looked up with surprise, put his hand in his back pocket and said, 'Oh, it is missing!'
'This kind gentleman found a wallet and we wondered if it could be yours?' I handed Mr. Goldstein the wallet and the second he saw it, he smiled with relief and said, 'Yes, that's it! It must have dropped out of my pocket this afternoon. I want to give you a reward.'
'No, thank you,' I said. 'But I have to tell you something. I read the letter in the hope of finding out who owned the wallet.' The smile on his face suddenly disappeared. 'You read that letter?'
'Not only did I read it, I think I know where Hannah is.' He suddenly grew pale. 'Hannah? You know where she is? How is she? Is she still as pretty as she was? Please, please tell me,' he begged.
'She's fine ... just as pretty as when you knew her.' I said softly. The old man smiled with anticipation and asked, 'Could you tell me where she is? I want to call her tomorrow.' He grabbed my hand and said, 'You know something, mister, I was so in love with that girl that when that letter came, my life literally ended. I never married. I guess I've always loved her.'
'Mr. Goldstein,' I said, 'come with me. 'We took the elevator down to the third floor. The hallways were darkened and only one or two little night-lights lit our way to the day room where Hannah was sitting alone watching the television. The nurse walked over to her. 'Hannah,' she said softly, pointing to Michael, who was waiting with me in the doorway. 'Do you know this man?'
She adjusted her glasses, looked for a moment, but didn't say a word. Michael said softly, almost in a whisper, 'Hannah, it's Michael. Do you remember me?'
She gasped, 'Michael! I don't believe it! Michael! It's you! My Michael!' He walked slowly towards her and they embraced. The nurse and I left with tears streaming down our faces.
'See,' I said. 'See how the Good Lord works! If it's meant to be, it will be.' About three weeks later I got a call at my office from the nursing home. 'Can you get away on Sunday to attend a wedding? Michael and Hannah are going to tie the knot!'
It was a beautiful wedding with all the people at the nursing home dressed up to join in the celebration. Hannah wore a light beige dress and looked beautiful. Michael wore a dark blue suit and stood tall. They made me their best man. The hospital gave them their own room and if you ever wanted to see a 76-year-old bride and a 79-year-old groom acting like two teenagers, you had to see this couple.
A perfect ending for a love affair that had lasted nearly 60 years!
(source courtesy : http://www.colindunbar.com/meant-to-be.html)
Monday, December 22, 2008
To be told: " you are fun to talk with ", is a beautiful petite compliment. I was told this yesterday and it made me feel proud. More importantly, the timing was wonderful ~~ when I am a bit unsure about myself and what is to unfold in the months to come.
To know you make a small difference to someone's life is an achievement. Something to be content about. Hope this feel-good state of mind gives some kind of impetus I am looking for...
To know you make a small difference to someone's life is an achievement. Something to be content about. Hope this feel-good state of mind gives some kind of impetus I am looking for...
Monday, December 15, 2008
When I failed for an year and more in racquet ball I compared myself to the Sehwag of 2007. Off late I was attempting some copy paste efforts on blog since I turned into an (depressingly out of form) R.Dravid of the bloggers community.
Now I can identify myself with another star cricketer who has the reputation of standing up to expectations in only one format of the game. Our own Yuvi ! ...
Life in a cricketing parlance ;)
When at 11:15 pm in a snow storm hit -10 deg chilly night, you walk out with a pair of gloves, a thin monkey cap, a 3 yr old over coat which is trying hard to ignore your bulging waist line while still trying to warmify you, and wearing a loose misfit jeans through which air blows in and out as if it passed through a newly dig tunnel, you haven't done yourself any good.
More so, when the motive behind this supposed, proposed and self- imposed adventure (turned mis-venture) in such demanding conditions is to just take snaps shots of our beloved Stankowski Field dressed beautifully in snow; I should have been well equipped with clear cut plan before hand.
Instead, I reached there with a chilly camera, frozen fingers and more than anything else ~ a half baked idea on going about my mission. For once, I lost the plot completely. I didn't know what to shoot at or how to handle my petite camera. A foolishly conceptualized and awfully executed plan I tell you. Looks like I have to settle for abstract subjects for my photography. Can't I handle different subjects and sensibly ? No variety, no good ! ...and then I dream about SLR cameras, ehh ?? Hurrr....
... hence that Yuvi correlation.
Wait, it didn't end there. How can my stories have happy ending ? If they did, they wouldn't be mine in first place. From Stankowski, I rushed into Dominos on St-9 and waited for a good twenty minutes only to be told I haven't placed my order ( which I was sure I did on line). Needless to say, me walked back grumbling. A fitting end ! ( 'doola teerindi ' is one good phrase - a mocking, ridiculing statement you can add in the comments section, if you like :P )
The only consolation during this outing were those hot pancakes being served at Brady's. With a strawberry syrup topping, they smelled and tasted yummyyyy !!! :D :D
Now I can identify myself with another star cricketer who has the reputation of standing up to expectations in only one format of the game. Our own Yuvi ! ...
Life in a cricketing parlance ;)
When at 11:15 pm in a snow storm hit -10 deg chilly night, you walk out with a pair of gloves, a thin monkey cap, a 3 yr old over coat which is trying hard to ignore your bulging waist line while still trying to warmify you, and wearing a loose misfit jeans through which air blows in and out as if it passed through a newly dig tunnel, you haven't done yourself any good.
More so, when the motive behind this supposed, proposed and self- imposed adventure (turned mis-venture) in such demanding conditions is to just take snaps shots of our beloved Stankowski Field dressed beautifully in snow; I should have been well equipped with clear cut plan before hand.
Instead, I reached there with a chilly camera, frozen fingers and more than anything else ~ a half baked idea on going about my mission. For once, I lost the plot completely. I didn't know what to shoot at or how to handle my petite camera. A foolishly conceptualized and awfully executed plan I tell you. Looks like I have to settle for abstract subjects for my photography. Can't I handle different subjects and sensibly ? No variety, no good ! ...and then I dream about SLR cameras, ehh ?? Hurrr....
... hence that Yuvi correlation.
Wait, it didn't end there. How can my stories have happy ending ? If they did, they wouldn't be mine in first place. From Stankowski, I rushed into Dominos on St-9 and waited for a good twenty minutes only to be told I haven't placed my order ( which I was sure I did on line). Needless to say, me walked back grumbling. A fitting end ! ( 'doola teerindi ' is one good phrase - a mocking, ridiculing statement you can add in the comments section, if you like :P )
The only consolation during this outing were those hot pancakes being served at Brady's. With a strawberry syrup topping, they smelled and tasted yummyyyy !!! :D :D
Friday, December 12, 2008
Ooooonly Yoooou
People are only complete
when they have a true friend
to understand them
to share all their
passions and sorrows with and
to stand by them
throughout their lives....
And that is you Su :)
when they have a true friend
to understand them
to share all their
passions and sorrows with and
to stand by them
throughout their lives....
And that is you Su :)
Friday, December 05, 2008
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Zindagi Zindagi
|
Zindagi Zindagi Kya Tera Roop Hai
Zindagi Zindagi Kya Tera Roop Hai
Tu Kabhi Chaanv Hain Aur Kabhi Dhoop Hai
Zindagi Zindagi Kya Tera Roop Hai
Tu Kabhi Chaanv Hain Aur Kabhi Dhoop Hai
Zindagi Zindagi... he ee ee...
Kabhi Lagti Hai Tu Meri Saheli
Kabhi Lagti Hai Tu Mujhko Paheli
Kabhi Lagti Hai Tu Meri Saheli
Kabhi Lagti Hai Tu Mujhko Paheli
Kabhi Lagti Hai Bheed Mein Gungunati
Kabhi Lagti Hai Tu Gum Sum Akeli
Zindagi Zindagi Kya Tera Roop Hai
Zindagi Zindagi Kya Tera Roop Hai
Tu Kabhi Chaanv Hain Aur Kabhi Dhoop Hain
Zindagi Zindagi eee....hey e e e
rara ri ra raaa... rara ri ra raaa...
Stay In My Heart...
Tu Hi Meri Dhadkan Tu Hi Saansein
Tu Hi Mere Din Hain Tu Hi Meri Raatein
Tu Hi Meri Dhadkan Tu Hi Saansein
Tu Hi Mere Din Hain Tu Hi Meri Raatein
Tujhe Dekhne Ko Tarasti Hain Aankein
Tujhe Dekhana Ab Meri Bebasi Hai
Zindagi Zindagi Kya Tera Roop Hai
Zindagi Zindagi Kya Tera Roop Hai
Tu Kabhi Chaanv Hain Aur Kabhi Dhoop Hai
Zindagi Zindagiii....
(Lyrics from G Album - Ganesh Hedge)
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
"For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul."
-- Judy Garland, American actress and singer
-- Judy Garland, American actress and singer
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Stories from Star Bucks
Hazelnut signature hot chocolate tasted great today. Simply yummy and the best from what I tried so far. An undeniable fact I should mention here is the beautiful lady at the counter who placed my order and made it an even more memorable experience. Her mesmerizing smile and attractive eyes make her any youth's dream and any poet's inspiration. I topped that list this morning (blushes). This isn't the first time I have fallen for them. No guesses why I am addicted to this place off late.
Anyways, Star Bucks has come up with an impressive maroon design with flying birds, deers and x-mas trees for their cups. Befittingly they left the cap white to complement this new do. Good idea. I am impressed !
I should also admit am a bit disappointed, in that, there are no more interesting stories printed behind their cups. I thought they made up for interesting blog posts and kept me going. A new excerpt or a small story for every new sip ( read as new cup of coffee ) is what made their coffee a different experience and their brand - a stand out one. Not that their brand equity will be damned or anything as such. They will still continue to have strangle hold and be numero uno for sure. It's only that fans like me will miss these li'l things.
Simple ideas and subtle execution is all it takes to put you on a different plane altogether, isn't it ? They have succeeded. Kudos !
Hmm... ! but you worry not. I will find new ways of escapism and still keep you interested in my blog. I am good at it ;) Trust me :) ...
PS: Oh, wait ! Isn't this X-mas season ? Hmm.... a justified change then. Either ways am fine, still.
Anyways, Star Bucks has come up with an impressive maroon design with flying birds, deers and x-mas trees for their cups. Befittingly they left the cap white to complement this new do. Good idea. I am impressed !
I should also admit am a bit disappointed, in that, there are no more interesting stories printed behind their cups. I thought they made up for interesting blog posts and kept me going. A new excerpt or a small story for every new sip ( read as new cup of coffee ) is what made their coffee a different experience and their brand - a stand out one. Not that their brand equity will be damned or anything as such. They will still continue to have strangle hold and be numero uno for sure. It's only that fans like me will miss these li'l things.
Simple ideas and subtle execution is all it takes to put you on a different plane altogether, isn't it ? They have succeeded. Kudos !
Hmm... ! but you worry not. I will find new ways of escapism and still keep you interested in my blog. I am good at it ;) Trust me :) ...
PS: Oh, wait ! Isn't this X-mas season ? Hmm.... a justified change then. Either ways am fine, still.
This blog owner should do one of these things. Either change his blog name to - 'Complaints Register' or stop writing ugly frust posts or blogs altogether.
But tell me, what can a someone who has forgotten to write poems or sweet smelling (!?!) words do much than crib... ?
He is now the Rahul Dravid of the bloggers community. Poking at words and trying to knit something out of nothing to make a sensible statement here and there and failing altogether.
We can only wish both of them a speedy recovery. Lets Pray !
But tell me, what can a someone who has forgotten to write poems or sweet smelling (!?!) words do much than crib... ?
He is now the Rahul Dravid of the bloggers community. Poking at words and trying to knit something out of nothing to make a sensible statement here and there and failing altogether.
We can only wish both of them a speedy recovery. Lets Pray !
Monday, November 17, 2008
Ban
Social networking sites must be totally banned and eradicated ASAP. Now that we all have each other's contacts and mails and messengers and what not to chat and stay in touch with, it is better we scrap off these unnecessary, time consuming and multi-featured websites.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Dream Team
The following is the 15 member squad from my list of all time favs.
Sourav Ganguly (C, /)
Sanath Jayasuriya (/)
V.V.S. Laxman (/)
Damien Martyn (/)
Mahela Jayawardena (VC, /)
Kevin Pieterson (/)
Shivnaraine Chanderpaul (/)
Adam Gilchrist (/,+)
Kumara Sangakkara (/ ,+)
Andrew Flintoff (/, o)
Shaun Pollock (/, o)
Wasim Akram (o)
Anil Kumble (o)
Steve Harmison (o)
Muttaiah Muralitharan (o)
Sourav Ganguly (C, /)
Sanath Jayasuriya (/)
V.V.S. Laxman (/)
Damien Martyn (/)
Mahela Jayawardena (VC, /)
Kevin Pieterson (/)
Shivnaraine Chanderpaul (/)
Adam Gilchrist (/,+)
Kumara Sangakkara (/ ,+)
Andrew Flintoff (/, o)
Shaun Pollock (/, o)
Wasim Akram (o)
Anil Kumble (o)
Steve Harmison (o)
Muttaiah Muralitharan (o)
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Dogs are an egoistic lot. They have self esteem. Our fault that we care least about their dignity and discount their self-respect. We were wrong not probably, but totally. We only thought the poor animal would do anything for food and would come back to its master even after being hushed away. But they have more to their personality as I see.
A strange early morning event today pin pointed towards these two facts. After all, straight forwardness, honesty and faithfulness are some virtues to take pride in and hence some self buttering in the form of ego and walking around in high esteem aren't really bad. Or are they ?
For those who hold themselves high, they can't accept silly provoking stuff like that of a squirrel or cunning tactics of a cat. Can they ?
A strange early morning event today pin pointed towards these two facts. After all, straight forwardness, honesty and faithfulness are some virtues to take pride in and hence some self buttering in the form of ego and walking around in high esteem aren't really bad. Or are they ?
For those who hold themselves high, they can't accept silly provoking stuff like that of a squirrel or cunning tactics of a cat. Can they ?
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
Love After Love
" The time will come
When, with elation
You will greet yourself arriving
At your own door, in your own mirror
And each will smile at the other's welcome,
And say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was yourself.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
To itself, to the stranger who has loved you
All your life, whom you ignored
For another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
The photographs, the desperate notes,
Peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit, Feast on your life. "
When, with elation
You will greet yourself arriving
At your own door, in your own mirror
And each will smile at the other's welcome,
And say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was yourself.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
To itself, to the stranger who has loved you
All your life, whom you ignored
For another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
The photographs, the desperate notes,
Peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit, Feast on your life. "
- Derek Wolcott Collected Poems, 1948-84, NY: Noonday Press, 1987, p. 328
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Stories from StarBucks : The Way I See It # 292
The way we get to live forever is through memories stored in the hearts and souls of those whose lives we touch. That's our soul print. It's our comfort, our emotional nourishment at the end of the day and the end of a life. How wonderful that they are called up at will and savored randomly. It seems to me we should spend our lives in a conscious state of creating these meaningful moments that live on. Memories matter.
-- Leeza Gibbons
Television and radio personality.
-- Leeza Gibbons
Television and radio personality.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Stories from StarBucks : The Way I See It # 141
I used to feel so alone in the city. All those gazillions of people and then me, on the outside. Because how do you meet a new person ? I was very stumped by this for many years. And then I realized, you just say, "Hi." They may ignore you. Or you may marry them. And that possibility is worth that one word.
-- Augusten Burroughs
Author of Running with Scissors.
-- Augusten Burroughs
Author of Running with Scissors.
Monday, October 06, 2008
Incomplete Lyrics
ek masoom chehra bhulaado..... bhulaado mere dil se
woh pyaara sa naghma mitado...mitado mere mann se...
woh pyaara sa naghma mitado...mitado mere mann se...
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
Vegetarian Woes
Oh ! so you do eat eggs !! ....
Yes ! I do...
Then why these 'shareef-shankar' nataks ? You are a non-vegetarian ! ....
No No ! I am not !!...
Yes ! you are ! Don't you know where eggs come from ? ....
I do ! ... so what ?...
So, you are a non-veggie ! ...
Hey ! I have been eating them since long...
I don't care ! you eat, thats it !
Duhh !!
When I eat meat you cry out loud. The very spinach you eat is...
Dude ! I chop a branch another one comes up. If I chop a head does an other pop up ?
Do you think that's a legitimate answer ? You mean plants don't experience the pain ?
May be they do....
Yeah, you can't answer me since you don't buy this logic...
Whatever makes you feel happy, Sir.
You know what ? You are an escapist.
If you say so...
You have no answers....
(mum, with a wtf look)...
And I know why you do all this... but let me tell you, every sect of the society has changed.
I know where this is going... (Duhh !... this ass is out of his mind)...
Yes ! I do...
Then why these 'shareef-shankar' nataks ? You are a non-vegetarian ! ....
No No ! I am not !!...
Yes ! you are ! Don't you know where eggs come from ? ....
I do ! ... so what ?...
So, you are a non-veggie ! ...
Hey ! I have been eating them since long...
I don't care ! you eat, thats it !
Duhh !!
When I eat meat you cry out loud. The very spinach you eat is...
Dude ! I chop a branch another one comes up. If I chop a head does an other pop up ?
Do you think that's a legitimate answer ? You mean plants don't experience the pain ?
May be they do....
Yeah, you can't answer me since you don't buy this logic...
Whatever makes you feel happy, Sir.
You know what ? You are an escapist.
If you say so...
You have no answers....
(mum, with a wtf look)...
And I know why you do all this... but let me tell you, every sect of the society has changed.
I know where this is going... (Duhh !... this ass is out of his mind)...
Reserved
You are somewhat shy, or at least unwilling to spend all your time socializing. With you it's true that "still waters run deep," which is why many of your acquaintances never get to know you well.You are not always ready to talk at the drop of a hat. Whether you're in the office or at a party, you're not likely to be found gabbing away in the middle of a group of people.Unsettled
You may be comfortable on your home turf, but you have a tendency to be self-conscious in an unfamiliar environment. While you're usually at ease with your friends, you can be a little skittish around strangers.
You usually don't feel at home in unfamiliar settings or with new people. When you get rattled, you don't necessarily recover instantly.
Discreet
You tend to hold onto your thoughts until you have something important to say, and even then you're's not comfortable imposing your ideas on others unless you know they're truly interested.
You don't enjoy talking for the sake of talking, and you have no desire to be the center of attention.
Warm
You have a genuine interest in other people. You're a natural host, and are always thinking about how you can increase the happiness of those around you. When friends have problems or are in trouble, you're usually the first person they turn to for aid and comfort.
You don't always say exactly what you're thinking; you don't like the idea of causing anyone pain because of your criticism.
Scoring high on the "warm" trait suggests that you are among those who enjoy domestic activities — doing things around the house — and are enthusiastic about charitable work, helping others, and making the world a better place.
Scrupulous
You are an honest, fair person. You don't lie or cheat to get ahead. You treat others with respect and hope for the same in return.
You do not feel that you are above the rules that everyone else follows; you are definitely not willing to do whatever it takes to get ahead.
Tender
You are gentle with others, both physically and emotionally. You are careful not to upset people and go out of your way to find the nicest way to say something. You naturally focus on the fact that the world is full of wonderful people, places, and things.
You don't think of yourself as tough-minded or gruff, nor do you need to be seen as some kind of objective source of truth and rationality.
More often than not, people with a high score on the "tender" trait enjoy spending time with children, love romantic movies, and are enthusiastic about making the world a better place.
Empathetic
You are in touch with your own feelings, which helps put you in touch with the feelings of others.You don't buy the logic that your happiness comes ahead of everyone else's because unless you're happy you're incapable of making anyone else happy.
Volatile
You go with the flow when it comes to your emotions. Whether you're happy or sad, you show it, and when something upsets you, or you're feeling stressed out, those around you will know it right away.You are not necessarily the one person in any group who can be depended on to stay calm, cool, and collected in a crisis; you aren't known for keeping your emotions under wraps.
Passionate
You are in touch with your emotions, and sometimes you react before you think. The good news: you don't tamp down your feelings. The bad news: you sometimes say or do things that you later wish you could take back.You do not live your life on an even keel; you do not go for long periods without experiencing some mood swings.
Innovative
You come up with a lot of ideas; if one doesn't work out, there's always another waiting in the wings. You often have interesting solutions to difficult problems. You're practically a one-person brainstorming session.You are less interested changing the world than in dealing with things as they are. Unlike those who spend all their time trying to solve problems, you prefer to zero in on things that work and stick with them.
Friday, August 29, 2008
David's Lesson
Yesterday's lonely meal at Gumby's was kind of an eye opener if I can say. When I get David.A's junk mail, for many reasons I enjoy reading his informative stuff on dating etc.. and what he has to say about many other important things. Yesterday was a live demo of one of his lessons and I was convinced it was the way to go about and make someone talk to you.
He also writes in AskMen.com. By the way this site is a must and recommended for guys. Lots of info on so many things ! Will surely help us ;)
Anyways, time to implement it what I learned [:D]
He also writes in AskMen.com. By the way this site is a must and recommended for guys. Lots of info on so many things ! Will surely help us ;)
Anyways, time to implement it what I learned [:D]
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Dhoondne pe bhagwanji bhi mil jate hain ! Google karne pe mera blog bhi mil jata hai !
What does he intend to write ? Is he in his senses ? "abba cha ! " -- may be some of the potential reactions I am expecting here for my line. If I crash landed into this blog for the first time I would have reacted more or less the same.
I was cent percent sure a noted few will never ever remember I blog. I doubted if they knew I blog in the first place, forget following it regularly. Too big an expectation. But finally they found their way here to read my poems, reportedly. Sweet ! :) Some efforts like googling my name etc, landed them here I guess. I laud their efforts. Finally arrived. :-|
This only goes to show that we aren't that super busy as we project ourselves to be. We can spend a minute to drop by and ask haal-chaal of people whom we care. We can, you see, do whatever it takes to keep it going IF WE WANT TO. But unfortunately that weren't to be. People are taken for granted. Friendships and relationships dwell when showered with unconditional love. Acts of ignorance turn them into a weak thread.
I thought my blog was the only sporadic one. But so is people's love for me. No worries. I exempt them from any guilt.
We either love people or we don't. It cannot be chequered. Let's respect relationships rather than toggling with them. Friends promising each other commitment for a life time, double check before signing the lease.
What does he intend to write ? Is he in his senses ? "abba cha ! " -- may be some of the potential reactions I am expecting here for my line. If I crash landed into this blog for the first time I would have reacted more or less the same.
I was cent percent sure a noted few will never ever remember I blog. I doubted if they knew I blog in the first place, forget following it regularly. Too big an expectation. But finally they found their way here to read my poems, reportedly. Sweet ! :) Some efforts like googling my name etc, landed them here I guess. I laud their efforts. Finally arrived. :-|
This only goes to show that we aren't that super busy as we project ourselves to be. We can spend a minute to drop by and ask haal-chaal of people whom we care. We can, you see, do whatever it takes to keep it going IF WE WANT TO. But unfortunately that weren't to be. People are taken for granted. Friendships and relationships dwell when showered with unconditional love. Acts of ignorance turn them into a weak thread.
I thought my blog was the only sporadic one. But so is people's love for me. No worries. I exempt them from any guilt.
We either love people or we don't. It cannot be chequered. Let's respect relationships rather than toggling with them. Friends promising each other commitment for a life time, double check before signing the lease.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Thursday, July 03, 2008
Ten years ago, my punishment one day was to climb up and down about twenty times, those fleet of hundred odd steps in front of Santosh-Sapna Theatres at Abids ad mist international delegates, film personalities and other big wigs.
I had turned in late for the video workshop by almost an hour and Kanal Sir was mighty frustrated and pissed off by this indisciplined act of mine. My team waited near APSFDC ( Andhra Pradesh State Film Development Corporation, where we usually met) before heading to talkies.
For those not in the know (everyone of you, am sure), Kanal Sir is a Professor at FTII ( Film and Television Institute of India), Pune, and teaches cinematography. I was attending his video workshop ( we called it Flyer's Video Workshop) by/at ICFF ( Int'l Children's Film Festival ). I will remember it for few wrong reasons.
There were many good ones too... like appearing on National Television ( Live compeering for the closing day ceremony ), interviewing my fav politician N.C.B.Naidu, and few other prominent film personalities. Life was so care free without any inhibitions. I hardly realised the stature of their popularity, back then.
I have managed to be punctual on almost all important occasions ever since that drill. If any of you were at the receiving end of my late-lateef acts, feel free to point out and take a dig. But as far as my memory can guide me, I haven't annoyed anyone of you.
By the way, few acronyms to remember. Re-read. Since my creative juices have more or less dried up, soon this blog will be turned into a history book. I will happily Ctrl-C Ctrl-V such excerpts hereafter. Don't expect creativity in writing.
PS: People with RSS feeds, don't be annoyed if you see such posts disappear. Don't mistake it for some cowering. There can only be one reason. Bad English.
I had turned in late for the video workshop by almost an hour and Kanal Sir was mighty frustrated and pissed off by this indisciplined act of mine. My team waited near APSFDC ( Andhra Pradesh State Film Development Corporation, where we usually met) before heading to talkies.
For those not in the know (everyone of you, am sure), Kanal Sir is a Professor at FTII ( Film and Television Institute of India), Pune, and teaches cinematography. I was attending his video workshop ( we called it Flyer's Video Workshop) by/at ICFF ( Int'l Children's Film Festival ). I will remember it for few wrong reasons.
There were many good ones too... like appearing on National Television ( Live compeering for the closing day ceremony ), interviewing my fav politician N.C.B.Naidu, and few other prominent film personalities. Life was so care free without any inhibitions. I hardly realised the stature of their popularity, back then.
I have managed to be punctual on almost all important occasions ever since that drill. If any of you were at the receiving end of my late-lateef acts, feel free to point out and take a dig. But as far as my memory can guide me, I haven't annoyed anyone of you.
By the way, few acronyms to remember. Re-read. Since my creative juices have more or less dried up, soon this blog will be turned into a history book. I will happily Ctrl-C Ctrl-V such excerpts hereafter. Don't expect creativity in writing.
PS: People with RSS feeds, don't be annoyed if you see such posts disappear. Don't mistake it for some cowering. There can only be one reason. Bad English.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Marzia
Every academic year in school offered some chaotic but interesting episodes. A popular one being parents wanting to see their wards sit on first benches. Although sitting first never ensured standing first in class. Seldom parents understood it. They stuck to the myth. Request notes from them often left class teachers in a fix. A lose-lose situation. Parents were(are) a worried sect. For few fussy fellas in class, any amount of juggling wouldn't settle their case nor put to rest, their demands. (I remember a fat, filthy rich student Piyush Gupta by name, who was notorious for this. Also, when I did well in class he would want to borrow my books and when I didn't lend him he use to have his way complaining to my teacher back in grade-6. In turn that stingy ass never helped. Not even for an eraser. Puraane ghaav you see ! I still hold few such grudges and have scores to settle with him. This dig is one step towards that cause.) For rest of them, coordinates weren't a point to mull over or waste their energies.
But Marzia's was a different tale . Precious tears rolling down smooth cheeks, lips trembling in fear, eyes with a painful look made up for an intriguing story. Marzia was the second or third tallest girl in the class. She was a blonde. This made her look older in the first instance. But there after one would end up appreciating her beauty. I saw her smile only on few occasions. She wept mainly for two reasons- when she was disturbed from her place or when she was left to share the bench with a boy. These events repeated year after year. And her emotions replayed too, in tandem. It turned into an absorbing affair. I always sympathized with her, for, something troubled her.
I never spoke to her. Not even once in my five years of association as her class mate in section-F. Infact, I never dared to. I feared triggering those emotions as it would mean no stopping thereafter. I couldn't bear her emotional turmoil. But had I an oppurtunity, I would have questioned her- what was so odd sitting next to a guy ?
When ever Marzia smiled I felt happy. Don't mistake her to be my childhood sweetheart or crush. I just felt deeply for her. From what I observed, she never gave vent to her expressions. She wouldn't speak much and answered only to the point. Like a caged bird with broken wings, she sat. Back then, I accredited all that misery to her upbringing. I hated her people for that. After grade-7, and some class shuffling I never saw her again. I landed in a new company.
Seasons passed by and during my undergrad, I bumped into her at a bus station one day. Marzia has transformed into a beautiful lass. She walks in grace now. Her eyes are as beautiful as they were, and she- more than ever. She would make for any poet's inspiration. She is any youth's dream girl. Her serene look assured her pain co-existed with her. Nevertheless, she looks lovely.
I was very happy to see Marzia that day after so many ages. But couldn't speak. I feared being mistaken for some romeo. I was sure she wouldn't have recognised me either.
I stared at her in awe and waited till she disappeared in the crowd...
But Marzia's was a different tale . Precious tears rolling down smooth cheeks, lips trembling in fear, eyes with a painful look made up for an intriguing story. Marzia was the second or third tallest girl in the class. She was a blonde. This made her look older in the first instance. But there after one would end up appreciating her beauty. I saw her smile only on few occasions. She wept mainly for two reasons- when she was disturbed from her place or when she was left to share the bench with a boy. These events repeated year after year. And her emotions replayed too, in tandem. It turned into an absorbing affair. I always sympathized with her, for, something troubled her.
I never spoke to her. Not even once in my five years of association as her class mate in section-F. Infact, I never dared to. I feared triggering those emotions as it would mean no stopping thereafter. I couldn't bear her emotional turmoil. But had I an oppurtunity, I would have questioned her- what was so odd sitting next to a guy ?
When ever Marzia smiled I felt happy. Don't mistake her to be my childhood sweetheart or crush. I just felt deeply for her. From what I observed, she never gave vent to her expressions. She wouldn't speak much and answered only to the point. Like a caged bird with broken wings, she sat. Back then, I accredited all that misery to her upbringing. I hated her people for that. After grade-7, and some class shuffling I never saw her again. I landed in a new company.
Seasons passed by and during my undergrad, I bumped into her at a bus station one day. Marzia has transformed into a beautiful lass. She walks in grace now. Her eyes are as beautiful as they were, and she- more than ever. She would make for any poet's inspiration. She is any youth's dream girl. Her serene look assured her pain co-existed with her. Nevertheless, she looks lovely.
I was very happy to see Marzia that day after so many ages. But couldn't speak. I feared being mistaken for some romeo. I was sure she wouldn't have recognised me either.
I stared at her in awe and waited till she disappeared in the crowd...
Phir Milenge
.... and thank you too ! for always being there. It was great being in your company for the little things you taught me. For helping me get back to where I belonged. Every bit of laughter we shared was hearty, every drop of tear we shed together has bonded us deep from our hearts. With every smile, we became stronger to face situations neither you nor me ever imagined we would land in. Thank you for being there on Tuesdays too ! You were my angel.
Your's will be a cherished friendship and a special one.
Hope you give things a great start. Wishing you loads of success and good luck. Lots of Love too !
Your's will be a cherished friendship and a special one.
Hope you give things a great start. Wishing you loads of success and good luck. Lots of Love too !
Friday, June 06, 2008
Friday, May 23, 2008
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Kamal's Dasavatharam and our vedhava vyavaharam
Vedhava= stupid. Vyavaharam= state of affairs. That solves the puzzle for the non-Telugu speaking lot. It's no secret that am an ardent fan of Kamal Haasan, an only Indian actor in my books, capable of winning an Oscar or for that matter any prestigious award, anywhere. This by no means is an exaggeration. Fans of other cult, keep away from your comments. We are speaking about acting, creativity, diversity in portraying characters and all that. Not pelvic gyrating histrionics of other super stars and mega stars.
So yeah, speaking about KH obviously reminds you of his latest, yet to be released Dasavatharam. The latest hoopla surrounding this flick naturally couldn't escape my attention. Every available Indian website spoke at length about Jackie Chan's guest appearance at the audio release. So when I watched the event in devotion and utmost anticipation, I felt a need for some serious counselling our phillum wale and the public in general need.
Since this is a straight forward dig, I will mince no words nor will I beat round the bush. First of all, scrap that bitch called Mallika Sherawat off any public appearance. As if there is a dearth for cloth, she drapes herself in see throughs which is quite disgusting. That too in front of a thespian like Mr.Karunanidhi. Second, even if you were to invite her due to her X-factor, let her not open her dirty mouth and be a translator of any sort. I felt like spanking her like I would to a buzzing, irritating mosquito on a hot humid electricity deprived summer evening. No second thoughts about it ! Third but the VERY important of all is addressing the event in Tamil (or for that matter any native language). CM addressing his people in native language is understandable. What reservations other junta including actress Sobhana ( compeering the event ) had wasn't really clear. Not that any of the stars weren't capable. But it only goes to show that our hospitality and all that crap that we (false)pride ourselves in, is pure shit. A gimmick. We lack clues on how to conduct ourselves most of the times.
Addressing people here and there using native language was okay. What irked me was, calling the most important guest of the evening at the end, after a train of not so familiar faces made their appearances( while the guest list was being invited onto the dais). I did not see any logic behind it. For once, our faces can be give second preference. No worries. I felt grateful to Mr.Chan for shrugging it off so coolly by saying " I do not know your language, but I can feel your love ". A live demo of his easy going personality. I would also like to applaud Mr.Bachchan for conducting himself in dignity. He could have fallen prey and been a part of the stupidity. Speaking native isn't stupid. But speaking it when half the guest list doesn't understand, sure is. He lead by example while addressing the fans. The versatile Haasan can take a leaf out of Big B's socio conduct.
This fuss doesn't end there. Our own gults are masters at this art. There is a sort of indifference exhibited amongst ourselves. For example, leave two gults in a group of Hindi speaking or people from other states and they will speak only and only Telugu till their last breath. I have seen it happen amongst friends groups. Like playing only Telugu songs and Telugu stuff and such things. On one occasion I was even questioned for playing a Kannada and a Tamil song for a new entry ! On an other occasion, people didn't care to say a "Hello" to a new fella. Pathetic state of existence. Having come abroad, home sickness is a frustrating concept and a recurring disorder. Instead of helping ourselves and making the new ones feel home all we can is be indifferent. These very people come up with the same complaint when they are given a dose of their own attitude. Losers ! If you find your language partner then nothing like that. Otherwise, continue drinking the insipid cup of life.
Indifference. Lack of common sense. Stupidity.... Key words.
So yeah, speaking about KH obviously reminds you of his latest, yet to be released Dasavatharam. The latest hoopla surrounding this flick naturally couldn't escape my attention. Every available Indian website spoke at length about Jackie Chan's guest appearance at the audio release. So when I watched the event in devotion and utmost anticipation, I felt a need for some serious counselling our phillum wale and the public in general need.
Since this is a straight forward dig, I will mince no words nor will I beat round the bush. First of all, scrap that bitch called Mallika Sherawat off any public appearance. As if there is a dearth for cloth, she drapes herself in see throughs which is quite disgusting. That too in front of a thespian like Mr.Karunanidhi. Second, even if you were to invite her due to her X-factor, let her not open her dirty mouth and be a translator of any sort. I felt like spanking her like I would to a buzzing, irritating mosquito on a hot humid electricity deprived summer evening. No second thoughts about it ! Third but the VERY important of all is addressing the event in Tamil (or for that matter any native language). CM addressing his people in native language is understandable. What reservations other junta including actress Sobhana ( compeering the event ) had wasn't really clear. Not that any of the stars weren't capable. But it only goes to show that our hospitality and all that crap that we (false)pride ourselves in, is pure shit. A gimmick. We lack clues on how to conduct ourselves most of the times.
Addressing people here and there using native language was okay. What irked me was, calling the most important guest of the evening at the end, after a train of not so familiar faces made their appearances( while the guest list was being invited onto the dais). I did not see any logic behind it. For once, our faces can be give second preference. No worries. I felt grateful to Mr.Chan for shrugging it off so coolly by saying " I do not know your language, but I can feel your love ". A live demo of his easy going personality. I would also like to applaud Mr.Bachchan for conducting himself in dignity. He could have fallen prey and been a part of the stupidity. Speaking native isn't stupid. But speaking it when half the guest list doesn't understand, sure is. He lead by example while addressing the fans. The versatile Haasan can take a leaf out of Big B's socio conduct.
This fuss doesn't end there. Our own gults are masters at this art. There is a sort of indifference exhibited amongst ourselves. For example, leave two gults in a group of Hindi speaking or people from other states and they will speak only and only Telugu till their last breath. I have seen it happen amongst friends groups. Like playing only Telugu songs and Telugu stuff and such things. On one occasion I was even questioned for playing a Kannada and a Tamil song for a new entry ! On an other occasion, people didn't care to say a "Hello" to a new fella. Pathetic state of existence. Having come abroad, home sickness is a frustrating concept and a recurring disorder. Instead of helping ourselves and making the new ones feel home all we can is be indifferent. These very people come up with the same complaint when they are given a dose of their own attitude. Losers ! If you find your language partner then nothing like that. Otherwise, continue drinking the insipid cup of life.
Indifference. Lack of common sense. Stupidity.... Key words.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Marriage: A Social Stigma
They call it an institution. For some its commitment, for few its sacred, for few its end of bachelorhood and for the rest its just another phase of life. For me its a concept which is fast losing its values and piousness. Marriages should be built with strong bricks of commitment and nurtured in devotion. They are woven on mutual respect. They thrive on belief and blossom when showered with unconditional love. Marriages are made in heaven, they say. Broken on earth, I state. Marriages this generation sound more or less like a child's play. A burdensome affair for many as I see and just another day ritual for the rest.
For the seasoned campaigners who have been through successful journeys, they are heart broken and pity today's youth.
A broken engagement of a close friend, to another entering wedlock, to a someone I'm closely associated with trying to break shackles from a wrecked wedlock while weaving dreams for a new peaceful one, to another close pal almost giving it a death blow, to a friend's plan to give priority to their love than anything, and few other experiences,... life seems to have come a full circle. Or hasn't it still ?
The whole world is busy running in and out of wedlocks, as if logging in and out of a messenger. My faith in the concept called marriage is a see saw game. Like a balance full of errors. My belief stands partially eroded with people's approach towards their marriages while my views are strongly etched due to dramatic changes in their lives. I am all but confused.
In the midst of these affairs, I have a small but a strong desire. No, not to get married...but to be wanted and loved. A strong desire to understand and experience commitment. Does falling in love serve the purpose ?
Let's see what tales await on that front.
For the seasoned campaigners who have been through successful journeys, they are heart broken and pity today's youth.
A broken engagement of a close friend, to another entering wedlock, to a someone I'm closely associated with trying to break shackles from a wrecked wedlock while weaving dreams for a new peaceful one, to another close pal almost giving it a death blow, to a friend's plan to give priority to their love than anything, and few other experiences,... life seems to have come a full circle. Or hasn't it still ?
The whole world is busy running in and out of wedlocks, as if logging in and out of a messenger. My faith in the concept called marriage is a see saw game. Like a balance full of errors. My belief stands partially eroded with people's approach towards their marriages while my views are strongly etched due to dramatic changes in their lives. I am all but confused.
In the midst of these affairs, I have a small but a strong desire. No, not to get married...but to be wanted and loved. A strong desire to understand and experience commitment. Does falling in love serve the purpose ?
Let's see what tales await on that front.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
An Intense Dislike.
I have... for the word 'like'. And what's more disgusting is hearing it from our desi bhayyas and behenjis. Behenjis. Yes ! that's the word. Saw a girl awfully dressed in salwar kameez ( Ladies, correct me if I am wrong ) the other day and decided to address them so. Anyways, people who want to surprise me with their testimonials in future can high light these intense dis likings. But subtly, mind you. Right ! an indirect way to say am expecting a testim from you :P ...
Kidding ;).. Don't write unless your emotions are strong or you hold me in high regard. I appreciate honesty and dil se stuff. ( as if I am thope )
By the way, the seminar by Vedic Society @ MU, I gave it a skip. Feared Atharva Veda would be referred to as Athur Veda. Also, I would have been forced to bow to shattering facts. Remember how A.R. Rahman was introduced as an upcoming music director at India Nite ? See the whole point of it ? I can't spare myself another ass burn of any intensity or be at the receiving end of such tampering. Instead, if I Google, won't all the facts be at finger tips ? Atleast I wouldn't feel punctured among International audiences, who (not) surprisingly are well versed and interested about the Ancient India. Read somewhere today morning that we are at such a pathetic stage that our history and its publishing is at mercy of foreign pens.
Another heart burn is my work being ruthlessly censored by the CAI Editorial board in the yearly mag- Rangoli which left me fuming few weeks ago. Enough reasons to skip.
Few more complaints under the Sun. My latest testim writer will agree ;)
Adios !
Kidding ;).. Don't write unless your emotions are strong or you hold me in high regard. I appreciate honesty and dil se stuff. ( as if I am thope )
By the way, the seminar by Vedic Society @ MU, I gave it a skip. Feared Atharva Veda would be referred to as Athur Veda. Also, I would have been forced to bow to shattering facts. Remember how A.R. Rahman was introduced as an upcoming music director at India Nite ? See the whole point of it ? I can't spare myself another ass burn of any intensity or be at the receiving end of such tampering. Instead, if I Google, won't all the facts be at finger tips ? Atleast I wouldn't feel punctured among International audiences, who (not) surprisingly are well versed and interested about the Ancient India. Read somewhere today morning that we are at such a pathetic stage that our history and its publishing is at mercy of foreign pens.
Another heart burn is my work being ruthlessly censored by the CAI Editorial board in the yearly mag- Rangoli which left me fuming few weeks ago. Enough reasons to skip.
Few more complaints under the Sun. My latest testim writer will agree ;)
Adios !
It doesn't take a lot to make a girl laugh. Well, I guess ! Unless you are too cooked up and biting nails on how to flatter her. When the situation pegs, all you need is some quick witty one liners and of course ability to grab the opportunity. Purpose solved ! ;)
The only problem, a thorn in the flesh is when you realise your sweetie has a boy friend ! Duh ! a lost cause. All efforts in vain to feel. Nevertheless, still a good way to test your ability to make some one laugh.
The only problem, a thorn in the flesh is when you realise your sweetie has a boy friend ! Duh ! a lost cause. All efforts in vain to feel. Nevertheless, still a good way to test your ability to make some one laugh.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Milestone: 24.
Birthdays are important milestones. So are the months leading upto them. Looking back at the year that has gone by, I can breathe a sigh of relief and be reasonably satisfied. A few cribs here and there. Never mind.
Sixteen hour work days and all that made summer mentally taxing and a physically draining affair. I almost quit my job. Gave it another toss. All I needed was patience to see through it. Life was relaxing after that. Had a good academic year too. I know, nothing more satisfying than doing well academically. Importantly, I have answered the 'what do I do' question. Took a while but finally an answer at disposal.
New friendships, break-make affairs with older ones, revival with the past, visiting a dear friend kept me partly engaged. A road trip to Smokies, camping at Meramec etc., injected some nomadic flavour in an otherwise recluse stay at CoMO.
Privacy, a no non-sense environ have been blessing. Friendships and relationships can otherwise be too consuming. Political correctness is vital while dealing groups. I still can't sing in chorus with people though. Affairs related to heart have been turbulent. I have been at the receiving end of some mood swings for quite a while now. People are immune to emotions. Life works like a flip- flop circuit. Relationships, personal i.e, took an interesting turn by the way. I didn't realise the importance of my Master's Degree until my trip home. A sea change in affairs over there. I can only rephrase a famous line of an ad: there are few things love can't buy. For everything else there is Master's Degree. Smart Study ! ;) You've got it by now I bet. ;)
Photography was a discovery. Not a pompous statement, but am pleasantly happy with it especially since I gave up sketching and art work. Art is a lifeline for my survival. Creativity is oxygen. People crib about my abstractness, but at the end of the day I am satisfied and so are the people who critique my work without any bias. That's what counts.
The only thing which hasn't changed and refuses to die is my inexplicable lust for pizzas. It's only got worse I guess, ever since Gumby's became our new adda. Oh ! my finance management has been awful. Time to pull up my socks and make some sensible decisions on that front.
A new year awaits. This bit would be more challenging than ever I suppose. Unemployment is the biggest tragedy of mankind. Seven years of professional studies only to fall in the unemployed category later sounds death. A battle awaits on that front. As always Survival is the key word.
By the way, I still have a license test to give Sir ! ( and you beautiful Ladies too ). After two years four months, its time I had one with my name emboldened.
Another tough summer on cards. Matter of weeks before I am eloped into the dust.
Ok. Enough demo of my honesty and simplicity in writing here.
Wish me luck :D...
Adios !
Sixteen hour work days and all that made summer mentally taxing and a physically draining affair. I almost quit my job. Gave it another toss. All I needed was patience to see through it. Life was relaxing after that. Had a good academic year too. I know, nothing more satisfying than doing well academically. Importantly, I have answered the 'what do I do' question. Took a while but finally an answer at disposal.
New friendships, break-make affairs with older ones, revival with the past, visiting a dear friend kept me partly engaged. A road trip to Smokies, camping at Meramec etc., injected some nomadic flavour in an otherwise recluse stay at CoMO.
Privacy, a no non-sense environ have been blessing. Friendships and relationships can otherwise be too consuming. Political correctness is vital while dealing groups. I still can't sing in chorus with people though. Affairs related to heart have been turbulent. I have been at the receiving end of some mood swings for quite a while now. People are immune to emotions. Life works like a flip- flop circuit. Relationships, personal i.e, took an interesting turn by the way. I didn't realise the importance of my Master's Degree until my trip home. A sea change in affairs over there. I can only rephrase a famous line of an ad: there are few things love can't buy. For everything else there is Master's Degree. Smart Study ! ;) You've got it by now I bet. ;)
Photography was a discovery. Not a pompous statement, but am pleasantly happy with it especially since I gave up sketching and art work. Art is a lifeline for my survival. Creativity is oxygen. People crib about my abstractness, but at the end of the day I am satisfied and so are the people who critique my work without any bias. That's what counts.
The only thing which hasn't changed and refuses to die is my inexplicable lust for pizzas. It's only got worse I guess, ever since Gumby's became our new adda. Oh ! my finance management has been awful. Time to pull up my socks and make some sensible decisions on that front.
A new year awaits. This bit would be more challenging than ever I suppose. Unemployment is the biggest tragedy of mankind. Seven years of professional studies only to fall in the unemployed category later sounds death. A battle awaits on that front. As always Survival is the key word.
By the way, I still have a license test to give Sir ! ( and you beautiful Ladies too ). After two years four months, its time I had one with my name emboldened.
Another tough summer on cards. Matter of weeks before I am eloped into the dust.
Ok. Enough demo of my honesty and simplicity in writing here.
Wish me luck :D...
Adios !
I Secretly Hope...
..that today is the day you will send me flowers for one reason.
Yours Lovingly...
(This event repeats itself every year...)
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Notions
A misinterpreted word, a mistimed expression and an unadulterated point of view is all it takes. Unadulterated ( you read it right ), not in sync with the rest or any approach which defies the norms of a system. Systematic as in style, thinking, approach, point of views, ideologies theories and philosophies. People lap up every symptom of deviation from methodical and routine, to form Notions. Unfortunately, notions are yardsticks for judgment, for, people are impatient, egoistic and an opinionated lot. Impatient because they cannot wait to patent a thumb rule while handling each other. Egoistic because, they are mighty offended when their own rules are proved wrong. Opinionated because they are caught in the spider web of a system.
Notions are rooted thorns pricking a finger. The more we try to uproot, the more they hurt. Notions are chain reactions. One giving birth to another. Notions are versatile. They can be tampered. Notions stagnate our point of view. Notions draw us blank. Notions are assassins. They are an 'influential' lot.
People demand explanation. An answer for every act and doing. Existence refutes explanation. One of people's favourite notion is me being a 'closed book'..., a concept which I fail to affiliate with. Another all time famous one is... me being a non-social entity, which I dismiss with disdain. It doesn't bother me. Or maybe it does and hence this post, you thought ? No, no way !
Notions know no logic. They are temporary. Ideologies are permanent.
Notions are rooted thorns pricking a finger. The more we try to uproot, the more they hurt. Notions are chain reactions. One giving birth to another. Notions are versatile. They can be tampered. Notions stagnate our point of view. Notions draw us blank. Notions are assassins. They are an 'influential' lot.
People demand explanation. An answer for every act and doing. Existence refutes explanation. One of people's favourite notion is me being a 'closed book'..., a concept which I fail to affiliate with. Another all time famous one is... me being a non-social entity, which I dismiss with disdain. It doesn't bother me. Or maybe it does and hence this post, you thought ? No, no way !
Notions know no logic. They are temporary. Ideologies are permanent.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Write not out of compulsion. Rather write out of expression. Words shouldn't be by choice. Rather use them by chance. Let not the train of thoughts derail. Let them be free flowing. Like a rivulet longing to reach an ocean. Writing is giving birth. Writing is existence. Writing is no death wish. Writing is unburdening. Writing is venting out thoughts. All writing is out of discontent. Write like a melodious note. Let writings be imprinted in like beautiful lyrics. Let it be the song of heart. Writings are foot prints in the sands of time.
Thoughts when fed with words, nourished in expression, moulded in style and woven in beauty sound articulated. Writings are one expression leading into an other. Let every sentence mirror your inner self. Let writings reflect individuality and character.
Let writing be a channel of survival. Let writing be a lifeline.
Thoughts when fed with words, nourished in expression, moulded in style and woven in beauty sound articulated. Writings are one expression leading into an other. Let every sentence mirror your inner self. Let writings reflect individuality and character.
Let writing be a channel of survival. Let writing be a lifeline.
Past
...disturbs me to no ends. While I forgive people accountable for unnecessary chaos, I fail to erase any bit of it. Past was a stroke of beauty gone awry.Past is like an injected pain which I carry deep in my vein. Past was heart breaking. Past was a mockery of my helplessness. Past was evil and trickery in disguise. Past was people in pretense. Past was an account of false associations.
Past was neither spent in rhyme nor was it born out of any reason. Past wasn't principled. Past couldn't be guided in technique. Past lacked any logic. It couldn't be handled with expertise. Past was masterminded with brainless ideologies. Past was spent in ignorance. Past was an account of unfulfilled promises and unmet expectations. Past boasts of unspoken words and silent confessions. Past was parting in ways. Past speaks about lost love. Past witnessed broken friendships. Past was uncultured and unsophisticated. Past was a silent corridor. Past is the cause of this suppression. Past is now a locked door.
Past was spent in statelessness. Past was a trivial existence. Past was a forgettable experience. Past couldn't be rectified. It's neither justified. Past fell prey to false interpretations. It was a bloody gimmick. My past hangs over my head. It is still an ever consuming affair and a recurring nightmare.
I am a victim of my past. Why is it all but past ? Why do those impressions long last ?...
Past was neither spent in rhyme nor was it born out of any reason. Past wasn't principled. Past couldn't be guided in technique. Past lacked any logic. It couldn't be handled with expertise. Past was masterminded with brainless ideologies. Past was spent in ignorance. Past was an account of unfulfilled promises and unmet expectations. Past boasts of unspoken words and silent confessions. Past was parting in ways. Past speaks about lost love. Past witnessed broken friendships. Past was uncultured and unsophisticated. Past was a silent corridor. Past is the cause of this suppression. Past is now a locked door.
Past was spent in statelessness. Past was a trivial existence. Past was a forgettable experience. Past couldn't be rectified. It's neither justified. Past fell prey to false interpretations. It was a bloody gimmick. My past hangs over my head. It is still an ever consuming affair and a recurring nightmare.
I am a victim of my past. Why is it all but past ? Why do those impressions long last ?...
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Before the Dawn of Youth ,
...May be its the ability to pose questions with authority which made you lovable.
May be its the ability to confess which made you so adorable.
May be its the ability to commit mistakes daringly why you were always excused but held a darling.
May be its the ability to assure.. you are fine, which made you dear.
May be its the ability to portray yourself funnily, which made you humorous.
May be its the ability to manifest love open heartedly which made you all the more special.
You are no more innocent....for you lost it at the first dawn of youth.
But you can still afford to be special...
Bye Bye !..
Mickey.
The Lack of it all
Be it mediocrity, idiosyncrasy or lack of some pure common sense, Indians are second to none. We can pull off any amount of eccentricity with expertise and shrug it off with equal unperturbed ease. People seriously lack social etiquette and behavioral ethics.
We can speak with twisted accent and finger point at the lack of sophistication, back home. We take a dig at unkempt premises and desi mindset of everything, at liberty. My foot ! And what can we manage to be elsewhere ? Be at our ridiculous best in socio-conduct. Oh ! I forgot to mention - we chew with mouths wide open and yet manage to ignore the disgust of people around. Sorry, am running short of words to aptly address the problem.
Since I am a disciplinarian, lack of dining etiquette irks me. Frustrates me infact !
Watched Jalsa today. Okay'ish flick. Songs too good. ' My heart is beating...ado la ' ...is hummable...infact a chartbuster ! More than the movie, I was miffed with the aforementioned behavioral disorders of our desis. Factionism must be eradicated from movies. Since Indian Cinema is going global, the sooner we address such aspects of film making, the better. Kids being exposed to such mindless stuff bugged me all the while. Anyways..PK impresses in patches. Inconsistency in every aspect of filming will dent its run at the BO, I felt. That it continues to set the BO on fire is a perfect example of the insanity people (our people that is) love and crave for. Parvathi Melton is a saving factor I should mention here :D... Shez hot, shez sexy...Ahh ! I fell for her, I confess.
An average product overall. The worn look of the amru lady in the projector room said it all. Movies, especially Indian, lack logic. All I could is pity her. Only if people managed and conducted themselves better, our 'Gults' turning in huge numbers would have been a relief of sorts. Unfortunately, it weren't to be. Never mind.
Lunched at Chilli's for the first time. Managed to eat Fried Mozzarella Cheese sticks, the only decent item for veggies. PK was confused with his burger stuff. Mama, Bakka-nakka and Taathagaru felt home. Like Flat Branch in downtown, this one too is not recommended for vegetarians.
We can speak with twisted accent and finger point at the lack of sophistication, back home. We take a dig at unkempt premises and desi mindset of everything, at liberty. My foot ! And what can we manage to be elsewhere ? Be at our ridiculous best in socio-conduct. Oh ! I forgot to mention - we chew with mouths wide open and yet manage to ignore the disgust of people around. Sorry, am running short of words to aptly address the problem.
Since I am a disciplinarian, lack of dining etiquette irks me. Frustrates me infact !
Watched Jalsa today. Okay'ish flick. Songs too good. ' My heart is beating...ado la ' ...is hummable...infact a chartbuster ! More than the movie, I was miffed with the aforementioned behavioral disorders of our desis. Factionism must be eradicated from movies. Since Indian Cinema is going global, the sooner we address such aspects of film making, the better. Kids being exposed to such mindless stuff bugged me all the while. Anyways..PK impresses in patches. Inconsistency in every aspect of filming will dent its run at the BO, I felt. That it continues to set the BO on fire is a perfect example of the insanity people (our people that is) love and crave for. Parvathi Melton is a saving factor I should mention here :D... Shez hot, shez sexy...Ahh ! I fell for her, I confess.
An average product overall. The worn look of the amru lady in the projector room said it all. Movies, especially Indian, lack logic. All I could is pity her. Only if people managed and conducted themselves better, our 'Gults' turning in huge numbers would have been a relief of sorts. Unfortunately, it weren't to be. Never mind.
Lunched at Chilli's for the first time. Managed to eat Fried Mozzarella Cheese sticks, the only decent item for veggies. PK was confused with his burger stuff. Mama, Bakka-nakka and Taathagaru felt home. Like Flat Branch in downtown, this one too is not recommended for vegetarians.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
Mizzou with its impressive architectural designs is an inspiring premises to walk around. The Memorial Union, Jesse Hall ,The Columns and Ellis Library are standing examples of artistic excellence while Bond Life Sciences, Hearnes Center-Mizzou Arena, Recreation Center and B-School equipped with latest infrastructure provide the much needed technological relief. Whether an aspiring photographer like me or camera obsessed, there is enough beauty dying to be explored.
But the latest policy in erecting blocks at every possible nook of the campus has put me in a state of discomfort. Retreats are target of insti big wigs and financier's ire. May be the burgeoning student population and resources play grueling factors. Infact they do. Having served a member of the 'Mizzou Strategic Plan' team as the student advisor to the student recruiting and retention board (errmm....some self-dappa and marketing here :D ), I had an oppurtunity to sneak peak into the functionalities and ideologies of these decision makers. Face lifting parking lots is the least needed; something which irks me. My worst fear is walking around Mizzou one day, sans retreats.
As time flies by, I feel detached. No sentimentality. Neither towards people nor Mizzou. The non-Indian'ess of it all (spare me for taking such liberty with my English) is one compelling factor, I reckon.
I hate changes and being moved from a comfort zone. I like old settings and backdrops. I like coo-cooing in my old nest.
Sad. All it takes is one change to turn today into a fast fading fact.
But the latest policy in erecting blocks at every possible nook of the campus has put me in a state of discomfort. Retreats are target of insti big wigs and financier's ire. May be the burgeoning student population and resources play grueling factors. Infact they do. Having served a member of the 'Mizzou Strategic Plan' team as the student advisor to the student recruiting and retention board (errmm....some self-dappa and marketing here :D ), I had an oppurtunity to sneak peak into the functionalities and ideologies of these decision makers. Face lifting parking lots is the least needed; something which irks me. My worst fear is walking around Mizzou one day, sans retreats.
As time flies by, I feel detached. No sentimentality. Neither towards people nor Mizzou. The non-Indian'ess of it all (spare me for taking such liberty with my English) is one compelling factor, I reckon.
I hate changes and being moved from a comfort zone. I like old settings and backdrops. I like coo-cooing in my old nest.
Sad. All it takes is one change to turn today into a fast fading fact.
Sunday, April 06, 2008
...after we were done eating, he went to dump the trash. Speeding past him like a criminal on trial cut lose, I reached the backyard only to find the trash can missing. We stared at the golden sunset and straws of grass standing tall and beautiful, awestruck and suspicious at the same minute. Turning around, my friend pointed at an angry African Elephant charging in.
Not heeding to Dylan's warning I ran back towards the kitchen door. With an air of over confidence, sensing the creature had some good ground to cover before it could get me, I tried opening the kitchen door with oily hands not realising it locked itself. I kept trying in a fit of anxiety. With the Elephant a few feet away, I contemplated the idea of running to the front door. Turning to my left I desperately tried locating a way.
The last thing I remember is two ivory tusks and fury filled eyes zeroing on me and ready to crush me under its bulk...
Fade out.
Really, watching late night movies ( like 10,000 B.C in this case ) can lead to such edge-of-the-seat encounters in dreams !
Not heeding to Dylan's warning I ran back towards the kitchen door. With an air of over confidence, sensing the creature had some good ground to cover before it could get me, I tried opening the kitchen door with oily hands not realising it locked itself. I kept trying in a fit of anxiety. With the Elephant a few feet away, I contemplated the idea of running to the front door. Turning to my left I desperately tried locating a way.
The last thing I remember is two ivory tusks and fury filled eyes zeroing on me and ready to crush me under its bulk...
Fade out.
Really, watching late night movies ( like 10,000 B.C in this case ) can lead to such edge-of-the-seat encounters in dreams !
Monday, March 31, 2008
I am here... sitting by my window and watching kids play with their doggie and having fun unlimited. What a care free beautiful life theirs is !
Next to them lies a chair thrown on to the ground. Been watching if for quite few days now. It gets to sleep for ever looks like. It enjoys getting drenched in rain followed by sun bath sometimes. It also enjoys getting kissed by a directionless wind and touched by those colorful leaves which dance down to the ground. Sparrows and squirrels stop by and investigate it... showing their friendly concern.
All in all, even a non-living discarded chair is enjoying every bit of it's existence I feel. Me on the other hand not able to make the most of mine and envying that chair instead.
It is surprising that even a pinch of inanity evokes extreme jealousy in me.
Next to them lies a chair thrown on to the ground. Been watching if for quite few days now. It gets to sleep for ever looks like. It enjoys getting drenched in rain followed by sun bath sometimes. It also enjoys getting kissed by a directionless wind and touched by those colorful leaves which dance down to the ground. Sparrows and squirrels stop by and investigate it... showing their friendly concern.
All in all, even a non-living discarded chair is enjoying every bit of it's existence I feel. Me on the other hand not able to make the most of mine and envying that chair instead.
It is surprising that even a pinch of inanity evokes extreme jealousy in me.
Sunday, March 02, 2008
Friday, February 29, 2008
Changed loyalties and royalties now. All we tambis are madly in love with Gumby's. Dog tired right now and feeling damn hungry. In the midst of a consuming debate too. Gps, Mo, Only-a-cent and Man-hot being my comrades. Commemorating this occasion shortly at our new found hang out ;) :D
logging off.
adios !
logging off.
adios !
Monday, February 25, 2008
Signing off.
It bore a withered look today. That tree about 40 ft behind the 'Lawrence PL' sign board ( if you were standing right under it and looking to the west). As if it had come of age. Any passerby with an eye for detail will jibe with the fact that the tree is now well past its prime. He wears a bloated look, clothed in lichen and wrinkled at the bark. No, barks as such are wrinkled. I agree. But our beloved friend looks older and tired. Felt like another sign off was round the corner.
Sign off....hmm..
Why him ? this winter as such has been one of its kind. Thoughts exiting in chorus, expressions buried, not withstanding the test of times and then friends ofcourse, dear and mutual ones bidding adieu to Mizzou and signing off CoMo. I wonder what role the second type had, to play in my life. What contributions can they boast of ? May be I am being a narcissist here. Mass exodus I tell you, is hard to cope up with। Difficult to replace and fill up voids. Lets learn to live with it. High time ! Another fare well beacons. In the midst of this déjà vu, lets hope few notorious kind sign off in dignity unlike few seasons ago... ! ;)
Few weeks from now this eventful winter will sign off too ! as always...in style.
Sign off....hmm..
Why him ? this winter as such has been one of its kind. Thoughts exiting in chorus, expressions buried, not withstanding the test of times and then friends ofcourse, dear and mutual ones bidding adieu to Mizzou and signing off CoMo. I wonder what role the second type had, to play in my life. What contributions can they boast of ? May be I am being a narcissist here. Mass exodus I tell you, is hard to cope up with। Difficult to replace and fill up voids. Lets learn to live with it. High time ! Another fare well beacons. In the midst of this déjà vu, lets hope few notorious kind sign off in dignity unlike few seasons ago... ! ;)
Few weeks from now this eventful winter will sign off too ! as always...in style.
Sunday, February 03, 2008
Whats in a Name ?
Went through this Name Reader through poetry.com and this is what it had to say:
Safar zindagi ka,
Uoon(youn..) chor kar na jana kabhi.
Dost ho hamare tum,
Humse na itrana kabhi.
Anjaan raho mai,
Mushkil halato mai,
Apno ko bhool na jana kahin!!
- Hiba
Thats one of the best ! Thank you Dear ! ;)
The name Sudhama inspires trust, confidence, and security. This name is grounded and practical, and promotes steady progress and consistent effort. sudhama makes one feel that everything will be taken care of; you are in good hands. Not a dreamer and lacking imagination, this name represents integrity and stability. It is comforting, a strong foundation, and the bedrock of society. It also reflects strong organizational skills and an eye for detail. It has a strong sense of structure. Family-oriented.
The name Sudhama reflects a rigid, inflexible atmosphere, which, however, is good for some businesses, such as insurance, banks, accounting, and brokerage firms.
Sudhama's positive traits: Reliable, trustworthy. Structured and disciplined. Makes steady progress.
~~~~~~~~~~~~Safar zindagi ka,
Uoon(youn..) chor kar na jana kabhi.
Dost ho hamare tum,
Humse na itrana kabhi.
Anjaan raho mai,
Mushkil halato mai,
Apno ko bhool na jana kahin!!
- Hiba
Thats one of the best ! Thank you Dear ! ;)
Saturday, February 02, 2008
Foot Prints
Foot prints in the sands of time
Were they after all, crime ?
How I wish, I sing this rhyme
Like a beautiful soul stirring hymn
Foot prints in the sands of time,
I am well past my prime.
Foot prints... yours with mine,
They counted up to nine.
Our lonely walks up to the shrine,
Oh ! they were so divine.
Foot prints, ' yours in mine...'
with these beautiful words
off I sign...
Were they after all, crime ?
How I wish, I sing this rhyme
Like a beautiful soul stirring hymn
Foot prints in the sands of time,
I am well past my prime.
Foot prints... yours with mine,
They counted up to nine.
Our lonely walks up to the shrine,
Oh ! they were so divine.
Foot prints, ' yours in mine...'
with these beautiful words
off I sign...
( pic courtesy: Google search )
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Thursday, January 24, 2008
right Now...
am chasing yet another thought.Tired and beaten, I give up and collapse hopelessly. Am staring another probable defeat here. Its been a consuming affair for quite a while now. All I could is gather a fragment of that egoistic thought. Even that bit is too perilous to handle. I hobble and wobble while failing to grapple it. Too much of a skiddy customer to oblige me. Slipping past me the stubborn fella escapes whilst my thought is lost... unwoven. Another annoying episode of freedom and struggle ends. An unhearing character wins. I lose.
Compromise with the situation. Should I ? after another battle of wits with my opponent ( my thought, unfortunately ) who seems too big a challenge to be pitted against, I do. For an unarmoured warrior like me these sudden development of affairs has brought a death blow to my other budding thoughts. Have I lost it ? The art to express myself ? May be I did !
I stare at the corridors of my silent mind, fag end from where echoes my lost thought. I hold back on misinterpretation. A mis-interpretation that another is coming my way. Their Voices will be recognised with utmost precision now on. They are an opponent too familiar to deceive me. Will spare myself another such embarrassment in future.
May be impressing girls is a productive and a worthwhile effort than chasing my thoughts.
Lets toss it up. Beautiful chicks or dangerous thoughts.... ?? May be a beautiful chick with a dangerous thought ... ;)
Compromise with the situation. Should I ? after another battle of wits with my opponent ( my thought, unfortunately ) who seems too big a challenge to be pitted against, I do. For an unarmoured warrior like me these sudden development of affairs has brought a death blow to my other budding thoughts. Have I lost it ? The art to express myself ? May be I did !
I stare at the corridors of my silent mind, fag end from where echoes my lost thought. I hold back on misinterpretation. A mis-interpretation that another is coming my way. Their Voices will be recognised with utmost precision now on. They are an opponent too familiar to deceive me. Will spare myself another such embarrassment in future.
May be impressing girls is a productive and a worthwhile effort than chasing my thoughts.
Lets toss it up. Beautiful chicks or dangerous thoughts.... ?? May be a beautiful chick with a dangerous thought ... ;)
Monday, January 21, 2008
People learn from mistakes, they say. In my case, lets re-frame the whole jargon. To claim that mistakes learn from me wouldn't by far any stretches be an exaggeration. For what can be a prelude to success turns into a passionate obsessive affair called Losing. Never will you meet someone who chuckles and giggles with his mistakes, shamelessly. From mere ripples to gigantic waves, they just grow. My failures.
It's been a cool one year since am into racquet ball. Yet no win to boast about; forget a comprehensive victory. My only wins have come playing doubles which can be accredited to "team work" rather than any individual stellar performance. Leave alone win, I haven't even come close to my opponent's score to take any inspiration and carry the mindset into other games. Day after day I repeat my histrionics.
So, when I agonizingly came close to PK's score, ( I was on 11, he at 13), I fumbled with another oppurtunity to put the demons to rest. Developed this knack of handing over the advantage to my opponents. You need a strategic thinker to pull off such feats.
If permitted to draw analogy, I can single handedly crush our own Viru Sehwag's drought record and set a new high. My photography is shaping no good either. Am continuing to err in framework. This bit is quite annoying.
Am happy losing in the court....but its lot more frustrating to err with my new found passion.
Tips and tricks are welcomed ! :)
It's been a cool one year since am into racquet ball. Yet no win to boast about; forget a comprehensive victory. My only wins have come playing doubles which can be accredited to "team work" rather than any individual stellar performance. Leave alone win, I haven't even come close to my opponent's score to take any inspiration and carry the mindset into other games. Day after day I repeat my histrionics.
So, when I agonizingly came close to PK's score, ( I was on 11, he at 13), I fumbled with another oppurtunity to put the demons to rest. Developed this knack of handing over the advantage to my opponents. You need a strategic thinker to pull off such feats.
If permitted to draw analogy, I can single handedly crush our own Viru Sehwag's drought record and set a new high. My photography is shaping no good either. Am continuing to err in framework. This bit is quite annoying.
Am happy losing in the court....but its lot more frustrating to err with my new found passion.
Tips and tricks are welcomed ! :)
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
Am staring in seriousness, out of my window to churn up a thought or two. I pay unperturbed attention and wait for one to transform into a post here and deduce a theory out of it.
Infact one such thought is trying to hum its way in. I try making a musical out of it but lose it mid way to the hustles of the branches. A leaf flying past my window through them symbolizes my lost thought. Like a melodious note lost in the midst of chaos. Like a beautiful lyric lost to some absurdity. All I do is stare in stillness for an eternity, deeply mulling over the derailed train of thought, compartments of which are disconnected. I desperately try plugging in one thought into an other's slot as if trying to make a meaning of it. Alas ! I cannot tap my vein of thought. What use are these broken murky fragments ? They are a vain of thoughts.
Funny it seems. Thoughts desert me and thoughts desert me. Try understanding the subtlety. Pay attention to the variance and interpret the duality therein. Sometimes they have strangle hold on my mind, ever consuming and chaining me. Am entangled in the knots of my thoughts. Rest of the times depriving me of itself, for my thoughts turn naughts. Leaving me stranded.
Have you heard of this story where two patients share the same room in a hospital and how the guy sitting next to the window ( through which he sees nothing but staleness ) paints a colourful picture of the affairs from the world outside to his friend who lays next to him. Don't quite remember where I read it...in some forwarded mail I guess. I always hold it close to my heart. An inspiration behind naming my photo blog I should mention.
Well, there in lies the beauty of thoughts. Interpret, mould and express them in any way you like. Forever they stand yours sincerely.
Remember... " What counts is a thought.
Making you stand out from the lot.. "
Infact one such thought is trying to hum its way in. I try making a musical out of it but lose it mid way to the hustles of the branches. A leaf flying past my window through them symbolizes my lost thought. Like a melodious note lost in the midst of chaos. Like a beautiful lyric lost to some absurdity. All I do is stare in stillness for an eternity, deeply mulling over the derailed train of thought, compartments of which are disconnected. I desperately try plugging in one thought into an other's slot as if trying to make a meaning of it. Alas ! I cannot tap my vein of thought. What use are these broken murky fragments ? They are a vain of thoughts.
Funny it seems. Thoughts desert me and thoughts desert me. Try understanding the subtlety. Pay attention to the variance and interpret the duality therein. Sometimes they have strangle hold on my mind, ever consuming and chaining me. Am entangled in the knots of my thoughts. Rest of the times depriving me of itself, for my thoughts turn naughts. Leaving me stranded.
Have you heard of this story where two patients share the same room in a hospital and how the guy sitting next to the window ( through which he sees nothing but staleness ) paints a colourful picture of the affairs from the world outside to his friend who lays next to him. Don't quite remember where I read it...in some forwarded mail I guess. I always hold it close to my heart. An inspiration behind naming my photo blog I should mention.
Well, there in lies the beauty of thoughts. Interpret, mould and express them in any way you like. Forever they stand yours sincerely.
Remember... " What counts is a thought.
Making you stand out from the lot.. "
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