Chiasma Crossed

little death

2011-06-13T14:23:00.000+05:30

A million little deaths we die in our lives, yet we live on. The loss of a thing we loved, moving cities, countries, continents, the loss of words, the loss of a dream, the loss of friends. Perhaps each little death preparing us for the final chapter.

We are a million people each. A different person with each person we know, for each friend. and when you lose a friend that part of you dies. and worse yet is having to say goodbye... like smothering a part of you yourself.

Friendship or any other kind of relationship, has been a mystery to me, elusive even. I've never been good at it. Perhaps because I've never been a good communicator. All my thoughts and feeling always imploding inwardly, only letting seep out little complaints till all is consumed.

This blog died a little death and perhaps it will die many times more. As for me after all these years, i finally know, it's not for me!

The Amir Khan Formula

2010-01-28T00:27:00.003+05:30

1. Take the essential bollywood characters - hero, heroine, villian.
2. Replace heroine aka damse- in-distress with society ka/ke victim - indian villagers, dyslexic kid, engineering students
3.Replace Villian with respective society ka villian - british raj, teachers/parents, principal.
4. Hero to hero hi rahega, played by none other than *drum roll* Amir Khaaan!

Plot:
~~heroine~~Victim, villian ke zulmon ka sataya bechara hai. Dan te daaan! Enter ~~Hero~~Amir. Hero kicks villan butt and saves the day! yaaayyy!!! Kahaani khatam Paisa hajam *burp*

taaliyaan, talliyaan! New issue. new movie, same hero, same story.

Coming up... Ye bechaara kaam ke bojh ka mara.

*ing
some random actor or non-actor as office worker(victim)
some character actor like Boman irani as the painfully horrible, idiosyncratic boss(villian)
Amir khan - as the smart alec know-it-all employee who turns everything around and gets the ~~girl~~client!

Wait a minute, Boman Irani is a Hirani formula. cut cut!!

the Decade

2010-01-12T22:54:00.000+05:30

2001 sounds like fun, first year of college perhaps where it all begun
2002 not much to review, feels like a welcome followed by an adieu
2003 oh can't wait to be free, end of college and armed with a degree
2004 what a bloody bore, some of us took the CAT that went out the door
2005 gimme a hi-fi, we back-packed for MBA full of hope and drive
2006 the feelings are mixed, we all took jobs that were, perhaps, a quick fix
2007 was the search for heaven
2008 heaven was worth the wait
2009 was maybe not so fine, the sub-prime crisis was so out of line
2010, i pray and hope then, is a really-big-fat-golden-egg-

laying-hen!

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYBODY!!!! :)

Are you Listening?

2010-01-12T22:52:00.000+05:30

I've been listening to the Radio. It has been something of a discovery for me. A result of a conscious choice of not owning a TV and inadvertent unemployment.

It was a sea to begin with, and I was obviously floating desultory. It started with the usual pop music channels - listening to music in loops can be mind numbing. Then there were rap and hip-hop, little bit of country, Mexican music and even Christian evangelists. Then there was a breif but wonderful pause on the classical music channel. At first it was functional, something soothing to fall asleep to, only to be shocked out of lala-land by loud overtures of violin choruses and trombones. Bad idea! But i continued to listen to it on lazy pre-noons, long enough for Tchaikovsky and Stravinsky to become familiar names. The numbers on the radio dial had brcome a little familliar.

The real discovery, however, were the News Channels. Suddenly the immured housewife had a window into the world. The world was talking to her. Six months in this alien country, and i had not just understanding but also an opinion on Healthcare reforms, Energy bills, democratic rights and issues ...heck i even understand the judicial and legislative systems of this country. After having spent a life time in my country, India, the most i know about our civics is that we have a prime minister, a lok sabha and a rajya sabha. What they do, I have no clue.

I know we have issues in India. Every country has more or less similar issues at different points of their history. We have poverty, illiteracy, corruption, caste discrimination and what not. What are we doing about it? What is going on? Where is the voice of the NGOs or even the overnment. Who's keep toll of the Farmer suicides in the cotton belt? Why are farmers taking their lives in the cotton belt?

News for me in India is just flashes of gruesomeness. We watch CNN-IBN online sometimes just to get a feel of what's happening in Desh. It is so cacophonous and disturbing that we have to turn it off or, If it's at dinner time, we usually lose our appetite. The caricature of the news media in movies like A Wednesday and Delhi-6 is apt to the T. Repoters reporting at the top of their lungs and shoving mikes into the hapless bystanders' mouths. Yes, News is about facts and events. But just about any facts? On what basis does the media filter these facts? Even the answer to this question has become hackneyed.

Isn't the News supposed to be about empowerment and not entertainment? Doesn't the phrase go Knowledge is Power?

The argument usually made here is that me or people like me or Indians are just lazy numbskuls and are only interested in item numbers. In the ocean of channels, News channels are competing with sports channels, movies channels, youth channels, reality TV, Kyonki saas bhi kabhi bahu thi channels, celebrity gossip channels (there are actually channels dedicated to this!). So they'll play anything to reach out grab the surfers attention, even for 2 minutes (Thats long enought to sneak in a 5 sec commercial eh?). You can't blame the channel they need the advertising monies to run the show, producing a newcast isnt cheap.

Perhaps, it will never be possible to return to the impassioned lady with the gerbera in her hair, politely reading the news of the day at dinner time. Perhaps not on TV atleast, but maybe on the internet and hey, maybe even on the radio!

The Radio - precisely the media for News. It's cheap - no expenses on make-up, sets, video, teleprompters (:D), onsite camera man, looping 2 sec video clips of Mika kissing Rakhi. There is hardly any competition, maybe a couple of music channels and cricket commentry. So there is no need for sensationalism, and be easily run without feeling the pressure to attract too many advertisers, simple underwriting can work. And maybe, just maybe it could also run on a democratic model - a community-style listener run radio station. Start national dialogues. Give a voice to the people, maybe then we'll really know how lazy or numbskulled they are. I listen to NPR and Pacifica Radio pragramming here. One runs on underwriting and the other on member donations. I like both. I find both equally important in their own right, informative, thought provoking and wholistic.

Yes, there are other media. Newspapers work, had worked, but the day TOI became a magazine, something died silently. Plus newspapers are only for the literate. The internet is a source of information. Frankly I find it a daunting ocean of unfiltered blogs (emotional effusion). You need some salaried people to colate all that information and present it in a coherent manner to you. Wouldn't you rather be doing incremental research on the internet more enlighteneted than spending precious liesure time on the basic stuff. Load up on information while your busy fixing dinner or driving to work. You can't beat the power of the radio to show up anywhere - in your car while your stuck in infinite traffic jams, at work, or in the kitchen.

Yes, I want to start a radio news channel in India, set up a radio station. I don't know how it is going to happen exactly. maybe we will start with just a 1 to 1/2 hour spot on an existing channel. This article is my first step towards it.

You can help. If you happen to read this and while I'm cooking my khayali pulao answer these questions for me:

1. Do or would you listen to the Radio and why?
2. What stations do we have in India besides Radio mirchi and Radio City?
3. What do you think, zaroorat hai? (Is a radio news station needed)

CALM

2009-07-23T23:00:00.005+05:30

can you stand alone
and speak, speak your mind out loud
are you hiding your heart
in the noise of the thumping radio
watching whatever you can
to keep it down
the noise the noise
the noise in your heart will
drown
you
if you listen to it
it is up to your ears in water
your ears your ears

Nightmare

2009-02-03T10:20:00.000+05:30

They’re crawling all over
Wriggling from the carpet over the floor
Sliding off door knobs
Hanging down shelves
Curled up in a mound on the corner of the bed
Sleeping crumpled in the dryer
Rolled by the kitchen sink
You pick and pick and pick them all day
Wake up and eeks they’re there again
Covering your body and dirty again
Clothes! My civilian nightmare

You can see now

2009-01-30T03:05:00.005+05:30

Two: You educate me! What would I do without you?
One: You would continue to dwell in the self-conceited delusion that is your life.
Two: I love it! :)
One: Ignorance is bliss, ain’ it?
Two: I prefer to call it ‘living in my own reality’
One: Yet again, words play sand quite eloquent
Two: And you sure play well.

Once again, the weakness of the word sets you on a round robin flight. The innate ability to misrepresent and then be misinterpreted deterring even communication, itself. That’s it! Words were not invented for communication, rather to satisfy the man’s most primal urge, no not sex, Definition, the constant nagging need to assign meaning. What does this mean? what does day mean? what is light? What is the meaning of life? what do you mean? You are mean, I mean etc, etc.

Humour me this – every word is but a noun, like in the worlds of Tlön, Uqbar and Orbis Tertius. Verbs are names for actions, adjectives are names for qualities, and prepositions are names for relative positions and so on and so forth. Nouns are strung together in a sequence to create the stories which we call our lives. For, it is these stories we spin that give our lives any meaning.

Each noun assigned a tacit meaning, attempted to capture with more nouns in dictionaries. So dictionaries dictate what a word means and dictionaries may beg to differ. And then we debate if Pluto a planet or a rock?

And I can wax eloquent all day on the subject, adding to the noise that blogs are and still not get across, but what can express the worthlessness of words better than a Silent Movie... nay, the Masterpiece of the master of silent cinema. Mostly you have to be blind or wasted to see through the outer definition of the tramp, because now his story doesn’t pre-empt his existence.

City Lights, Go See it!

What's Cooking

2009-01-23T01:59:00.003+05:30

Guy : Do you know cooking?
Girl : *raises eyebrows, imitating accent* Do you know hunting?

Glad the man hunt is over and the couple is cooking happily every after. While woman has patented recipes like Smoked Gobhi, geela vegetable do pyaza, tomato toast with left overs and masala fried eggs. Man has mastered the art of the Sambar and other entrees in consulting capacity. Woman rolls the pin while man roasts the roti.

Friend: But isn’t the Man only responsible to bring home the Bacon?
Woman: No, we are vegetarian.

Man is happy after learning in Hawaii on their honeymoon, that in Polynesian cultures the men do the hunting, cooking and serving; end-to-end supply chain, while women manage other industries like handicrafts and textiles.

Man: Hey atleast, she helps me out *shrugs shoulders*

Life

2008-09-15T21:12:00.004+05:30

The Kid has been caught and the wanted poster has been taken down. The has been presented. On 2nd december, 2008 the sentence will be declared. You, Sheriff, have been sentenced to Life! Muhahahahhahaha, the judge roared in laghter with the jury while they pointed their pointing fingers at his state of lost irony. You Sheriff, have been sentenced to life, the judge trumpeted, paused turned to Billy who'd figured he might as well join the laughter club, with Billy the Kid.

What?!

That's right, You Sheriff have been sentenced to life with Billy the Kid.

Bliss

2008-07-20T13:40:00.005+05:30

like puffs of powdered sugar sweetening the air dissolving like sweet perfume in pink light. sublime thoughts escaping you your mind too feeble to hold on. your lips stretched into a smile, piercing into your chubby cheeks, already hurting.

"Why does one love? Why does one love? How queer it is to see only one being in the world, to have only one thought in one's mind, only one desire in the heart, and only one name on the lips--a name which comes up continually, rising, like the water in a spring, from the depths of the soul to the lips, a name which one repeats over and over again, which one whispers ceaselessly, everywhere, like a prayer."
- Guy De Maupassant

Dreaming

2008-07-02T16:49:00.002+05:30

Just as you emerge from the darkest of the night, love creeps in to your life to whisper sweet nothing into your ear as you stir. Is it a dream flowing into life, you wonder. Then your phone rings, somebody calls to tell you it’s over. This is your wakeup call! Sublime thoughts escaping from you suddenly snap like a string of pearls. As they scatter, you reach for them but they’ve already dissolved. You’re left alone, only with the memory of the dream.
You are looking at your phone, feeling cheated, with loathing. The day looks even more loathsome, long and arduous. You’re wondering if you can go back to sleep and dream again, if you would ever be healed enough to allow yourself to be vulnerable again. The phone rings again.
“Aur kitna rulaogi?”
“Mein kahaan rula rahi hoon?”
“Kya tum nahin ro rahi ho?”
“Agar mein roun to kisi ko kya pharak padta hai?”
“I’m sorry, come back!”
You are plunged back into a dream again, and you never want to wake up.

WIP

2008-06-14T22:51:00.002+05:30

Well as you can see re-decorating my space again :D. I know it's a little blinding at the moment, working on it. Any suggestion for improvement are most most welcome... There's definitely scope! :D

Ray, Kurosawa and Zee Studio, Sundays, 3 PM

2008-06-04T17:31:00.002+05:30

Is a good slot to watch out for, if you are a Classic Cinema fan or even if you wish to initiate yourself into the genre.
April was dedicated to celebrate the magic of Satyajit Ray. I caught two very delightful pieces – Seemabaddha (Company Limited) and Joi Baba Felunath.
Seemabadha, contrary to popular belief about classic cinema, has a very relevant and current story line. And contrary to popular belief about Ray, the movie is not about poverty. It’s about an everyday guy like you and me, a young sales manager who is this close to becoming the marketing director of his company and his moral dilemma. It’s about the subtle relationship between a man and his saali (sister-in-law), and about business ethics. How much closer can it get to us! I’d say it should be included in the Non-classroom Learning sessions we had at SP.
Joi Baba Felunath was endearingly rib-tickling. A children’s movie based on a story by Ray himself, Ray always took immense pleasure in making literature for children, which is about a wannabe detective, a child with an obsession for his comic book hero and his old grandfather with an itch for adventure. As these characters take you through the meandering lanes of Banaras and give you an insight into the ‘baba’ rackets, still widespread today, the suspense mounts and twists are revelations.
Apart from this I’ve also seen Pather Panchali and Charulata both mesmerizing master pieces.
Yes, Pather Panchali is about poverty, but does not in any way glorify it. It is also about old age and childhood; running after the ice cream man and watching the train hurtle along its tracks. It’s about idly chucking stones into the pond and bothering the cat. Although not a happy movie, it is a fun movie to watch.
Charulata, is about women’s empowerment. Well not it in the current sense of taking up banners and marching down the street, but in the more subtle sense. It’s about how terribly bored a housewife can get and that she too requires some meaningful employment yaar!
I hope I’ve done a good job of attracting your attention to these movies. For better written reviews on the above movies read Jabberwock’s Notes. Alright there are no heroes jumping off cars and heroines running around the bushes, but hey, aren’t you looking for a break?
I’ve strayed from the topic , hence coming back to Zee Studio, Sundays 3:00PM. This month they’re celebrating Akiro Kurusawa, very befitting as Kurosawa was a big Ray fan. I caught Seven Samurai on 1st June. A movie I had been wanting to watch for some time, considering it was the original inspiration for Sholay. Caveat: It is nothing like Sholay although the plot still revolves around a village plagued by Bandits. There is no Thakur and the bandit chief is not half as impressive as Gabbar Singh. It is more about war strategies and camaraderie. There is a lot of comic relief, but it is not unintentional like Sholay. Watch this movie if you can.
Meanwhile you can catch the remaining Kurosawa lineup for this month; Throne of Blood (Adaptation of Macbeth), Yojimbo (I’m waiting for this one) etc.
If you’re not a Kurosawa fan worry not there is still a very impressive lineup of master filmmakers to be features on Zee Studio thanks to its partnership with Palador Pictures, including Wong Kar-Wai, Francois Truffaut, Jim Jarmusch and even Ingmar Bergman and Krzysztof Kieslowski. My Sundays are booked, I say! Please pass the word around.

Chukking Phattey!!

2008-05-12T21:29:00.003+05:30

Well in the times of television, going to an actual stadium to watch a cricket match definitely makes you wish you had even better than 20-20 vision!

Venue: Visaka Cricket Stadium

Date: 1^st May 2008

Players: Deccan Chargers Vs Kings 11 Punjab.

Dad, lil sis, lil bro and me, little excited family pack huddle out of the car after an hour and a half long drive to the brand new Visaka stadium at Uppal. Well it’s so new they haven’t even finished constructing it yet (there’s a long story behind that too). There were these dancing balloon figures around the stadium that were quite amusing. So far, so good. Got into the entrance queue our ticket was checked. We were frisked (eewh..this is the real effect of terrorism, it’s more like discomfort-ism). Had to take the cello tape off my cell phone so that the security guard could remove the battery and check it’s authenticity. I don’t know what they really check. They confiscated all my 3 mineral water bottle and said I can purchase water inside. Cheapo money minters! Got my snacks coupon and got tagged. Yay!

I’m finally in. They were distributing those Rs. 6 per pack Sunfeast biscuits. I don’t like biscuits but I had no choice. I was forced to exchange my snacks coupon for 3 packs of Sunfeast.

We had bought the Rs 1000 tickets. Although the cheapest tickets in the house we couldn’t afford any more or didn’t think it was worth anymore. There were tickets ranging up to Rs. 5000. I’m shocked. Incidentally I hear the tickets in Mumbai are much cheaper they start at 400 and end at 1000. Why this discrepancy in prices, IPL? Well our seats were 4 flights up. There were no lifts and my dad suffers from arthritis.

So we reach our box. Since the stadium is still under construction the steps are only concrete, no cement. The steps are too narrow, only enough space to place your feet while in the chair. The widest of the steps allowed only 1 person to pass through at a time. The chairs were another story. Poor quality uncomfortable plastic chairs, so tiny and that everybody in the row was overlapping the next person. Good to back strengthening exercise.

While the audience grabbed their seats the cheerleaders took position. We were already thirsty so we converted my borther into a spot boy any made him run for water. He came back with 2 glasses of coke. They refused to sell him a bottle of water claiming that we would chuck it at the players once empty. Goes to show how much they’re expecting from the match. But I would have rather thrown the biscuit packets. Since they are heavier and more use less they would travel farther and hit harder. Finally the match started.

Gilly and Gibbs got out really quick. Very Very Slow Laxman chugged along the longest. Rohit Sharma brought a little hope and we cheered for him. There were no sixers till the wee end. We had to make do with chaukas. Meanwhile we got hungry and thirsty. The cool drinks and water had stopped flowing even before the end of the first inning. You only has the option of slice, which is too sweet and heavy for the occasion. The only option in terms of food were stale Frankies and Bingo.

So we’re hot and thirsty. There is an ominous cloud of dust forming over the stadium. Making the picture all the more gloomy. It tried to switch and cheer for the visitor team. They were equally bad. I found myself phasing out in the middle sometimes, and then telling myself to concentrate of the match.. I paid a hajaar bucks after all!

Oh and the cheer leaders! I feel for them. They have no clue as to what is going on. What is a boundary. How does a guy get out, nothing. They only dance when the music comes on. Every time Kings 11 did some thing there Deler Mendi would be warning you to “panga na le”. So the cheer leaders sitting there in this sultry atmosphere in plastic tights totally bored out of their wits. Ouch!!!

We left by the fifteenth over of the 2^nd inning. Don’t know how we survived that long!

Pitey, bahut bure pitey.

Prime example of Bad Customer Service

2008-05-07T15:17:00.006+05:30

Cursed is the day I decided to shop at Lifestyle! Well it was women’s day and also LS’s anniversary. They had this really annoying guy with a mic prowling the floors for unsuspecting customers. Then he’d suddenly pounce on them, “Hello mam”, I’m not misspelling ma’am he really pronounced it like that! Aam with an ‘M’, might as well dial M for Murder!

Annoying Prowler: Hello Mam, what are you doing?
Me in my head: I’m taking a walk, the park’s too crowded
Victim customer: err…Shopping
AP: what is your experience mam?
Me: in my 5 yrs of work ex?
VC: good I guess
AP: Ok mam how many times can you say Kachcha papad, Pakka paapad? If you say it really fast 25 times I will give you this etc etc prize.

Hell that little twit is not the victim anymore, I am! Kachcha pakad pachcha pakar in soprano mode. 25 times with 10 customers. Ouch!
Still with all this torture absolutely determined I managed to pick out something I liked. Went to the trial room and guess what… I get to get frisked twice every time. Yeesh. What do u think I’m going to carry in or bring out? That your stupid detectors wont detect?!

I still, persistent old fool, found a shirt I wanted to buy. Stood in the cashier queue for 10 mins with AP still blaring into my ear, avoiding him and I finally reach the counter. Guess what! It’s a member’s only line. Where the hell are the boards? Nobody answers. They just leave. Next line, reach the counter, “if your bill crosses 5000 you’ll get a surprise gift”. Me, “what is the gift?” Cashier “It’s a surprise.” Me,” ok give me the damn coupon.”

I’m hunting for this god forsaken surprise gift counter. It’s in from the escalator in the middle of the hall. Grrr. They asked me to draw a chit. I made mom draw. Chit said, “CP, M, 44”, which apparently translated to Colour Plus, Men’s, size 44. What! Who the hell draws for size?!!! I understand brand, I understand item, I even understand colour…but size!!! Hello nobody in my entire khandaan even grew enough to wear a 44!! I requested him for a smaller size. No heed. “Hey! I didn’t ask for the gift. Now if you’re giving it to me at least make it nice and do not insult me”. No heed. Some other disgruntled customers agreed. Here take it back I don’t want it. Took it back, no heed.

Yuck!

The dull Routine of Existence

2008-03-27T01:07:00.006+05:30

“My mind “, he said, “rebels at stagnation. Give me problems, give me work, give me the most abstruse cryptogram, or the most intricate analysis, and I am in my own proper atmosphere. I can dispense then with artificial stimulants. But I abhor the dull routine of existence. I crave for mental exaltation…”

- Sherlock Holmes on being questioned about his drug abuse habits by Watson.

Am I missing that high? Definitely!

Season's Greetings

2007-12-28T17:47:00.001+05:30

Maybe life is like a flower, each petal, a trajectory in time that must be traversed. Yet you must return to the start, to look upon that loop and contemplate. Then, start again :)

Happy New Beginnings!

The Raven

2007-12-08T14:12:00.001+05:30

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!

-------------------------------------------------------------------

This painting was made and gifted to me by my friend about a year ago.

Few days ago and article on The Raven was featured on the main page of Wikipedia. The Poem has the typical poesque eeriness, that continues to haunt you long after. I dreamt about this painting that night. And it all came together.

SOS

2007-11-28T18:10:00.000+05:30

What kind of educational systems are we promoting in our country?! Why do we want to downgrade humans into animals or, worse, machines? Sri Chaitanya, Narayana, Vikas, etc ... names every student in AP shudders at the mention of. The idea is to treat children like cattle. Tell them exactly what path to go down and if they happen to wander a step flog them! I call it the ‘Slog or Flog’ methodology. What kind of schools still advocate physical punishments? Beating up adolescents with steel rulers to the extent of drawing blood for not being able to score well in an exam? What problems is this solving? It not only breaks the child being beaten up but the psychological disturbance that it causes in the rest of the students for having to stand by helplessly and watch their friends being beaten up, because apparently they signed up for this. You’ll never get to an IIT or even your local engineering college if you don’t subject yourself to it.

Girls and boys separated into different sections, classes from seven to seven in dingy old apartments in the middle of the city, with zero facilities for recreation or any other form of personal development like sports, art etc. All answers must be verbatim from the college provided text book, No, you are not even allowed to correct the grammar. We don’t care about your approach as long as your answer is correct. Why did you add those points in your environmental chemistry paper! They are wrong as they are not in the textbook. We talk about farmers committing suicides in Andhra. Has anybody done an audit of how many students hang themselves out of despair and stress every year? (If such a survey has been done, do point it out to me.)

All this for what? To become another cog in the machine? To become another Software engineer or tester? To do a ‘low end’ job for your counterparts in other countries? By supporting such an education system we condemn them to servitude.

Wake up parents! Wake up Governments! Wake up media, talk more about the state of education in India than just stories of molestation in UP. The molester btw is a product of this educational system. If we continue to churn out bricks like this IITs will never become the top engineering in the world, IIMs will never become the top management schools. Creativity, innovativeness, observation, morality (In the sense of being able to decide for themselves, what is right and wrong) are more important than MARKS in any exam. Develop a questioning mind not and dead conforming one! First hand knowledge of experience instead of second hand from books.

Save your souls and those of your children.

The Genesis of Butterflies

2007-11-02T23:43:00.001+05:30

by: Victor Hugo (1802-1885)


HE dawn is smiling on the dew that covers
That kiss the buds, and all the flutterings
In jasmine bloom, and privet, of white wings,
That go and come, and fly, and peep and hide,
With muffled music, murmured far and wide.
Ah, the Spring time, when we think of all the lays
That dreamy lovers send to dreamy mays,
Of the fond hearts within a billet bound,
Of all the soft silk paper that pens wound,
The messages of love that mortals write
Filled with intoxication of delight,
Written in April and before the May time
Shredded and flown, playthings for the wind's playtime,
We dream that all white butterflies above,
Who seek through clouds or waters souls to love,
And leave their lady mistress in despair,
To flit to flowers, as kinder and more fair,
Are but torn love-letters, that through the skies
Flutter, and float, and change to butterflies.

This English translation of "The Genesis of Butterflies" was composed by Andrew Lang (1844-1912).

Tagged: 8 Random Things

2007-10-18T22:29:00.000+05:30

Welcome, welcome. Please to make yourself at home with my new look . Yes, yes you are free to admire it all you want. Kanishka here has tagged me. Yes me, moi, I, mein, mala, maney, naan... or atleast it said 'Neha' in his post wait lemme check. Yes, it's me! That leads me to random point number 1. Having a popular name really defies the entire point of having a name at all. I can't ever benefit from a vanity search, even though I can hear my name being called out distinctly, there is a high probability it's not me being summoned, and neha.agarwal@gmail.com probably receives at least 10% of my e-mails and 10% of the e-mails meant for every other hum-naam in the world. I once had to fight it out with another girl at a job interview after the names were announced that it was in fact me they were referring to since both of us answered to the same name. Random thing number 2. The walls in the room are actually navy blue and i have orange curtains. No, I'm not colour blind. Not, yet. number 3. 'ooki' means big in Japanese and 'chotto' means small, 'hai' means yes, 'so des ka?' means 'is it so?' This is a universal response. You can say this to anyone whether you understand them or not. number 4. In boarding school i never washed my socks until they became too hard(like stiff) to pull on. I found that if I soaked them in hot water with Arial overnight, they would be like brand new again with little effort. point number 6. I will never forget that our school principal once compared adolescents/teenagers kissing to eating raw mangoes and adults kissing to eating ripe mangoes. point number 7. I read Anne Frank's diary (abridged) when i was 12 and concluded that my roommate was old enough to kiss people as she was as old as Anne Frank when she got her first kiss. Her brother married a Japanese girl. Point number 8. I missed point number 5. and I've never been to Japan but I have been to Bhutan.

I would like to tag TP and my little brother :)

Thanks Kanishka for this perfect opportunity to show off my new blogskin I really had nothing to write about. :)

Fat-a-Fat Cricket

2007-09-24T11:45:00.001+05:30

In boarding school we used to play this game of our own device, called Flash Uno. We got rid of all the mulch, i.e. the number cards except for 1, 2 and 3. So there were comparatively more Draws fours, Draw twos, Wilds, Skips and Reverses.

It was the atmosphere of the 10th board exams. We didn’t have time for long drawn games. It had to be quick. It had to be thrilling. Flash Uno gave us an action-packed 15 minutes.

But soon the Draw fours, Draw twos, Wilds, Skips and Reverses weren’t as exciting anymore and we stopped playing Uno, altogether.

Tamil Teriamma?

2007-08-20T21:38:00.002+05:30

I never thought I would ever say this

But this city I really do miss

Once the humidity grows on you and you don’t mind how the mundu rises with the temperature, it’s not so bad.

It’s the only city that I was comfortable in using the public transport. Not that that says anything about the quality of service of their public transport system but just that I did travel on buses and it gave me a kick to pay Rs. 3.50 instead of the 90 bucks I would have to shell out otherwise. Negotiating with the auto drivers is a pain but it’s not like taking a metered auto ensures a fair price either. Traffic however was easily negotiable. It is rational for a city that size to atleast have traffic like that.

The bigger the city the more there is to explore. There’s always a place to go, to see, to surprise you. The city definite had character with so much cultural zeal. Theatre, arts, music, dance, cinema. It’s not true that it’s only about classical Carnatic music or Bharatnatyam. The city churns out quite a lot of rock bands. There’s either a rock festival or a film festival or a food festival or some festival going on.

Most of all, I miss my apartment. It was the perfect little apartment on the fourth floor of an eight floored apartment in a posh colony. It was somehow always cooler than the rest of the city. It had a little balcony overlooking palm trees and gulmohar trees and neem trees and god knows what trees. It was just beautiful eye soothing greenery. The balcony has glass doors in the metal grid of which we had made little colorful patterns with glass paints. Memories that house held, so many memories, happy memories, people memories, things that happened memories.

It was an eventful year, that year in Chennai, perhaps the most eventful year in my life. I met some of the most wonderful people I know there. Some of my worst demons I faced there. Some I slaughtered, some still haunt me. I lived alone. I traveled on buses. I fell ill, lots of times. I fell on the road, once. I paid all my bills. I bought all my groceries. I cooked. I cleaned. Charlie’s little angel, I had become :D.

I can’t say if I’ve changed for the better, but I’m definitely changed.

Goodbye Chennai.

Bachelorette

2007-07-17T23:10:00.001+05:30

I'm a fountain of blood
In the shape of a girl
-Bjork

Snip Snip

2007-07-09T16:46:00.000+05:30

There is something about getting a haircut that makes you feel anew. It has the ritualistic steps of a tribal ceremony for spiritual catharsis.

Cleansing. Destruction. Rebirth.

I feel like I’m just returned from the launderers'. :)

Is it possible?

2007-05-14T00:33:00.000+05:30

On this overnight train to Hyderabad I had found some very pleasant company. A father son duo and do yaar and ofcourse me. The father-son were especially amicable. The father was settled in Chicago. the son lived in Australia. The son’s sister was studying in Europe some where and I think maybe the mother was in India. They were going home; to little England, Hyderabad, to celebrate Christmas with old friends. The two friends were just retuning from their vacation in the Middle East via Sri Lanka. Did you know you can’t exchange Indian currency in Sri Lanka!!! Well they couldn’t and they had this adventure story about how they luckily had some Dirham coins clinking in their pockets; enough to afford them some food while they waited for their flight to Chennai. I have this vague memory of them talking about going snorkelling in Sri Lanka but now it doesn’t make logical sense and I can’t recall the flow of events in their story anymore. I was just going home for the yearend holidays. We were all really Hyderabadis at the end of the day.

So I was having this pleasant conversation with this uncle from Chicago. I was reading Sherlock Holmes at that time. So the conversation picked up from there he recommended another detective series, ofcourse which I can’t recall the name of, and we progressed to us discussing our fascination for old Hindi songs and his love for Lata Mangeshkar’s voice. The son, I found out, was a professionally trained bar tender who didn’t drink. He refused when the boys offered him a share from their bottle which they were secretly glugging on the third tier. The two feiends were of the “milbaithein teen yaar” varienty. We all ordered the meals served on the train and had dinner together. The son gobbled the food down while the father and I slowly but meticulously chewed and swallowed each piece of food in the tray. Uncle said I was good company for dinner and even invited home for Christmas or was it the son who said that… anyway, as we were basking I this warm reverie of bonhomie, a sudden thud against the the bogie shell broke our torpor. There was another thud then a klud and a kud and finally a kinlk. I looked at uncle ,startled and slightly worried, for an answer. He explained in a slightly regretful tone, “ Many animals get hit by the train when the tracks pass though wilderness.” There was a feeling of sickness in the air and on my face; which slowly sunk to my heart. How is that possible? When animals can sense the tiny pre-seismic vibrations that humans are immune to then surely they can feel a train coming! If not that then surely the headlights should startled them off! You think it was harakiri? Would animals do that?

Obituary

2007-03-02T21:52:00.000+05:30

Your Angel has fallen, my love
No more in your skies to fly
No more to live, No more to die

Flew before me as i went up the flight
From the eighth window of my tower
Held her wings i saw her leap
I followed but for my coward feet

She lay there quite all night unmoving
As i cried myself to sleep
And if morning were to come
You would see,
her blood,
Was the colour of love

Pencils

2007-02-07T12:51:00.002+05:30

I don't like mechanical pencils.
I like sharpening my wood-lead pencils. I like waiting for them to go blunt so i can sharpen them again.

I'm a drop of coffee

2007-02-02T23:04:00.000+05:30

I’m a drop of coffee fallen from the mug of abundance, with the alacrity and resolve of an arrow left a bow, on to a piece of paper, plopped patiently, breaking down resistance, seeping into each fibre slowly, persistently, permeating in every direction palpable, strained pale until every grain of the paper is imbibed in my essence eternally, submissive and changed.

2007-01-24T23:22:00.000+05:30

Tujhe chalte titli mili
Thi woh thodi pagli
uska man chanchal poli
kar baitha tu usse dillagi
Par woh pagli thi titli
Par woh pagli thi titli

2007-01-09T02:11:00.000+05:30

If i love you, i'll leave you
My insecurities can't be your chains
Your freedom i gift to you
if ilove you, i'll leave you

2007-01-09T02:09:00.000+05:30

Hope on earth you find your heaven
in the year 2007

...continued

2006-11-29T17:58:00.000+05:30

Is your birthday the time for a review meeting with yourself? Was i supposed to prepare a status report or a progress report and identify the slippages and risks in my life's plan and come up with mitigation and fire fighting strategies?

But what if i don't have a plan! What if i dont have a life?

2006-11-17T09:41:00.001+05:30

It was my birthday yesterday...and i'm not feeling contemplative.

2006-10-18T15:24:00.001+05:30

Always end up running in circles
With bruises of bright greens and purples
Sooner or later must put up a fight
unchain and let it take flight
these are my thoughts, superfluous bubbles

Please keep your distance

2006-10-10T18:00:00.000+05:30

My friend says long distance relationships just can't work out because what u can say in a hug you can't ever express in a million words. I've come to learn quite the contrary.
Long distance realtionships are stonger precisely becuase you don't have the convenience of a hug. If somebody's pissed off, if something is wrong the only way to resolve a misunderstanding is by expressing yourself in words. Words that otherwise would have been supressed. We use and over use the hug and hell even the kiss. He's screaming at you just hug him and he'll melt, but all that discussion you would've had otherwise if you'd continued gets lost. Hence the misunderstanding never gets cleared. The questions never get asked. The questions never get answered. End of communication. Without realising you are bottling up things. Oneday a little jerk will make you burst like a cola bottle shaken too hard. End of relationship.
Distances forces you to express. Distance teaches you to be loud 'n' clear. So keep the distance. Am i clear?

Googling Truths

2006-10-06T16:23:00.000+05:30

Me: i found an interesting quote from a movie.
Now i want to watch the movie.

TP: which is that?

Me: “There is something about yourself that you don't know. Something that you will deny even exists, until it's too late to do anything about it. It's the only reason you get up in the morning. The only reason you suffer the shitty puss, the blood, the sweat and the tears. This is because you want people to know how good, attractive, generous, funny, wild and clever you really are. Fear or revere me, but please, think I'm special. We share an addiction. We're approval junkies. We're all in it for the slap on the back and the gold watch. The hip-hip-hoo-fuckin' rah. Look at the clever boy with the badge, polishing his trophy. Shine on you crazy diamond, because we're just monkeys wrapped in suits, begging for the approval of others.”

TP: boy !

Me: what a dialogue !

TP: sure it is
Revolver it is ?

Me: u googles it !

TP: :D
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0365686/quotes

Me: shame

TP: what ..
chalta hai

Me: obviously that link turned up because i copied it from there
Sometimes u get so addicted to a tool, u use it even when u don’t need it - like using logs to calculate 100/25 and getting 3.986.

2006-08-30T15:28:00.001+05:30

Why is it easier to wear the mask of a happy go lucky fool?
Because it protects you from the pain of being a sincere idiot
Then what is the pain one still suffers?
The pain of suffocation

Lone reed/wolf/ranger etc etc

2006-07-31T01:02:00.000+05:30

The first day of my life alone was not as horrible or as scary as I anticipated it to be. A spacious two bedroom apartment and no one to share it with. In a colony of respectable people and nobody to talk to.
Easy with the sympathy already. It isn’t as bad as I’m making it sound. Living alone has its own perks. Here are a few i discovered.
You can play your favourite music, turn up the volume to full blast or put on your headphone (if u have finiky neighbours) and pretend to be Aerosmith without having to worry about people thinking you’re crazy ..even though that’s probably what you're screaming.
I’m not such a big fan of walking around naked in my living room even though Alanis Morisette recommends it so fervently.
Read a book all day with absolutely no distractions, in whatever position u’re comfortable in, at whatever hour of the day, with whatever title on the cover.
Don’t make your bed for two days and no one will complain. Ok I get disgusted by the third day.
Cook exactly what you want to eat. Eat only if you want to. The fan runs at exactly the speed you like it. No compromising. No sharing. No having to be considerate. No worrying abt looking insensitive.
And finally you can buy a signboard that says “Beware of Dogs” and put it up outside your door
Ah! This is the life.

PS: This article was started on the 15th of July and finished on the 18th at 1:33 AM

And it falleth from heaven

2006-07-31T00:51:00.000+05:30

Mumbai rains have a mind like mine – fickle. A fat blob of distilled water, reluctantly falling from the too heavy to float clouds in the heavens up above, comes and hits your head with a soft vengeance, a kind of vengeance that is almost sorrow. The sorrow of being torn apart from your element, pulled away from your paradise. That cloud is where the party is at. All the high flying and happening water droplets meet up here to rock to the thundering musing and electrifying lighting effects. Some water drops in their party high and moment of drunken indiscretion forget when to put that glass of intoxicant down. Next thin’ they know is they are piss-drunk, no longer in control of themselves. No longer aerodynamic a fat blob of water falls unwillingly from the happening heavens up above, forced apart from dear like minded friends, onto your naked skin with a feeling of deep deep regret.

The above article is dated Tuesday, June 27, 2006 7:46:24 PM

This is the most abstract piece of writing i've ever written. It was written in a car in a traffic jam in mumbai. It was ofcourse inspired by the fact that the rains couldnt decide whether to fall or not, therefore making my indecision about opening the umberalla constant. Besides if you really wanna avoid getting wet in Mumbai, get an umbrella that doubles up as a boat. Falling from the sky is a kind of Sazaa-e-Kaalapani, before you know it they've built a civilization of outcasts also known as floods.

Knock yourselves out!

2006-07-26T20:26:00.000+05:30

So it was the ultimate congregation of phonies, fresh off some 'premier' B-schools. ‘The Cream of India’ lathargically sitting around the buffet table after really heavy supper chewing the fat. One guy from an 'extra premier B-school' suddenly interrupts and asks, “Do any of you read?”. I was like, ”Duh yeah of course we read. We didn’t get of graduating just like that you know.”, in my head. Another one with a particularly hoarce voice shot off, “yeah I love reading. I’m currently reading the biography of Indira Gandhi”. He to his dismay was unable to recall the name of the book. Damn he started a trend! Everyone started to take turns announcing what they were reading. Was I reading anything then? Damn I was. I’m still going to say I’m not reading anything, I don’t read, I decided. “God of small things”, I blurted when my turn came. Some spine I have. It wasn’t like I was held at gunpoint or anything. “But I don’t really like it”, I muttered to cover up.”I really liked Catch 22 though” falling again in the same damn pit again!
“Oh Catch 22! That’s a really cool book”
“Yeah I thought it was hilarious”
“Oh I’ve always wanted to read it but I was daunted by the size.”
“Yeah it’s a tough read alright. Took me ‘bout six damn months to get done with it”
“but it’s a great book”
“But Catcher in the Rye is really an awesome book. J.D. Salinger is really good.”
Eh! That statement was so off the boat it nearly killed me! What’s the catch? Phony ass bastard!

---------------------

Shooting the bull with some guys from work at tea break:
Him: Hey I’ve finished reading that book you anted. Had finished it long back just forgot to let you know.
Me: Hmm no issues. I’m keeping myself quite busy. had bought some books so read that over the weekend.
Him: What book?
Me: Err..Catcher in the Rye *reluctantly*
Him: *face lights up* that’s a really good book.
Me: I know, I read it.
Him: Have you read Catch 22?
Me: *fell off the chair*

----------------------

Here’s a fresh one:

What’s the opposite of Thank you?
.
.
.
.
.
.
Fuck you

Knock yourselves out !!!

Disclaimer: Still in the Catcher in the Rye sort of mood. Figured I’d use the language used in the book just for the effect. To bring out the irony, you know. Havn’t done a good job of it, in keeping with the style. No offence to anybody or anything like that.

Starry Night

2006-07-20T18:41:00.002+05:30

Picture regretfully removed due to technical difficulties.

Above you can see today's Astronomy Picture of the Day (click on the picture for a larger version), showing a nice picture of a night sky. If you go with the mouse over it, it draws for you the corresponding constellations (for that, you have to do it in their website, not here, because I couldn't get the nice effect)! Worth seeing and trying later with the real sky :-) .

Source

For Purnima and Rashi :)

At work after 7:30PM

2006-07-18T16:28:00.000+05:30

The air conditioner whirring
Clickety-clicks of tactile feedback keyboard
Maybe a flip of a page or pages somewhere
Jangling of a bunch of keys
Moans of adjustable seats
Ah the chair on wheels rolls
The murmur must be them office trolls.

2006-07-17T12:15:00.000+05:30

You let go so easily
was that all it was meant to be?
On a lonely summer's night, miss me
This is my gift to you
A curse for free.

Shattered

2006-07-06T18:13:00.000+05:30

I'm the kind who cribs a lot. I'll whine and wail. I've actually had people getting frustrated with me after a ten minute conversation."Stop complaining!", they'd yell. I had promised myself and you that I would not let that trait spill in here. Something has happened today and i want to cry here. Because there is no one i can cry to, more so because i'm not supposed to.

Being Undead

2006-06-14T15:10:00.000+05:30

A new life is about to begin
A new morning for blue birds to sing
The orange glow at the horizon makes sweet promises
of clear blue skies, of yellow lillies and purple primroses

But unfinished business in this life
like chaines around my ankles anchors me as i spread my wings to take flight
So my soul wanders like the ghost of me
Let me go, set me free.

This old coil i want to shed
That path no longer i want to tread
I have found the place where i i want to be
Let me go, set me free

Not that this life was bad
Scars are like tattoos, works of art
Let them in silence tell my story
Now let me go, set me free!

Rollercoaster Ride

2006-06-09T12:52:00.001+05:30

My lifes been somewhat like a rollercoaster ride for sometime now. Left home on the 19th of May and nothings been the same ever since. I am now an employee of one the the top 5 IT Services companies in India or so they claim. If ever anyone was to study the applicability of the chaos theory for the business world this company would make the perfect casestudy. A very apt joke to relate here. A Russian friend after living in India for about a year confesses to me that she's started to believe in God. On enquiring for the reason for her new found faith she replies, " In russia there are rules, there is a system for eveything and everyone follows it so things work. In india there are no rules, no system yet things work - There must be a God." To quote my mentor here, "The only type of person that can survive here is the kind that can thrive in chaos. To break the rules, you must know the rules and the only rule here is there are no rules. If you're the kind of guy who needs a 5 step startegy on even how to sneeze you're better off at Infy".
Uh man there is so much to talk about but lunch beckons and the stomach growls. will be back
muah

What I hate about blogging! (Part II)

2006-05-08T21:10:00.000+05:30

Ok this is what I’d wanted to say the last time I wrote about it but knowing me, I had to go off on a tangent.
Something about the blog world had been pissing me off lately and I couldn’t lay a finger on it. At first I got irritated that a friend brought up something serious I’d written in one of the posts as a joke at a party, I let it pass as her naivety. Then some blogs I visited regularly disappeared. Man, this sooo ticked me off!
I have this new friend who is an aspiring writer. Actually according to me he’s already there. He said to me, “I write. I love to write. I write stories. I don’t blog because I think they’re irresponsible”. It hit me. Yes, that’s exactly it! Blogs are irresponsible.
I blog, which means I write blogs and I read blogs. Lots of people do that. Blogs for very obvious reasons have become a place for some very personal expression. So when you interact with people at that level of intimacy you kind of end up getting attached to them or at least their blogs. Nothing can be more disturbing than clicking on that oh so familiar link one fine day and being rudely told off that the blog cannot be found. Obviously the owner’s deleted it. Obviously they felt no responsibility towards the readers whatsoever. Obviously it is your fault for being there in the first place - nobody invited you.
The blogs most prone to this kind of need for desertion of its audience I have realised are anonymous blogs. Nah, actually that’s a myth. Any blog can disappear any moment, just like that, without any prior notice.
So what is this whole blogging relationship about? There’s no trust factor. No accountability. So this can’t be called a friendship. Maybe there is absolute honesty. Maybe there are true mental connections being forged here. But that’s so ephemeral. What do you do with it? I’d say it’s like pure gold – very desirable but useless.
I’m going to continue blogging, despite this. I haven’t figured out why yet, perhaps that’s the stuff’t of another post. I’m certainly not going to do so under the cloak of anonymity like a coward. I shall bare my soul unabashedly and boldly suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous friendships.

PS: Its not fair that you know where I live, but the only way I can talk to you is by putting up a notice outside my door.

Currently hearing impaired

2006-04-11T21:14:00.000+05:30

It was perfect. The sky had started to cloud over. The zephyr was blowing cool flailing the rockers’ curls. The crescent moon had turned a turbid red.It was an omen. The night errupted and the stars burned when the musicians began to work their magic. The guitarist strummed the chords like they were my veins. The drummer had my heart and he decided how it beat. And as the rhythm pulsated through my body, I knew, I was alive.

Four bands – Void, After Death, DemClones and Pin drop Violence played at an engineering college at hyd. I got passes actually I got invited coz my li’l sis’ seeing one of the lead guitarists :D. So here’s a little eyewitness commentary:

First of me:
I wore a stark white formal shirt, to make a statement of course!!! Yes I know you’re supposed to wear black t-shirts with bleeding red print on them but who wants to be part of the crowd! Ok the real deal is I was actually wearing an ultra sexy maroon top that might not have passed the parents censor so the white shirt was for undercover operations only. However, when I got there I felt like too much of an adult and my chaperoning consciousness kinda took over. Yes, so I was wearing the stark white shirt through out the show. Next embarrassing thing – 19 yr old kid asks me if this is my first rock concert. I would’ve mentioned the Bryan Adam’s if I wasn’t absolutely certain of the outcast look I’d receive after that. So just quietly said yes and settled for zero instead of negative points.

Void –
That band that we were particularly interested in...ahem ahem, was awesome. Except that their lead singer had a bit of the case of em’ stage frights. They covered St. Anger by Metallica, Seven Nation Army by White stripes, Rape me by Nirvana and Something by hatebreed. Oh and they also slipped in a composition of their own. Although using the adjective ‘cute’ would be considered opprobrious for this genre of musicians. I think their vocalist did enough damage to the image when he profusely thanked every one for letting them play.
My advice – lose the singer.

After Death –
Hard core death metal – Sepultura, Rammtien the works. Their drummer – Yeah! He was mind blowing!!! Too bad the drums are arranged so you way back into the background that the drummer’s face is obscured. The singer modulated his voice too much to make it sound gruff. He was too skinny to carry it off. Also he kept feeling himself...which actually looked like he wasn’t enjoying doing that and it took a lot of effort to do on stage. There were times when the band just stood there on stage - posing ...I think they were really posing for photographs. I mean seriously posing!
My advice: Drummer you deserve more, get my number :D. Band- get another attitude.

Demclones –
We would’ve mistaken them for biotech students for the double helix in their logo. The more soulful and melodious of the bands started of with a rendition of Limpbizkit’s “I know why you want to hate me” and gradually descended the tempo with U2s Vertigo and coldplay’s yellow, and finally slipped in some of their own soft compositions. This was by far the most appreciated of the bands. The guitarist was phenomenally innovative and deft. I suspect he could even make the guitar enunciate whole English words or even sentences if he wanted to. He had that kind of control over the strings.
Verdict: soulful.

Pin Drop Violence –
Or PDV as they were being referred to fondly, turned up doped to the ‘T’. The guitarist got a little frustrated by the bad feed back system put his guitar down in the middle of the song and just strut off stage. Fame I tell you is a drug that goes straight to the head. Didn’t see them perform, no verdict.

On the whole the flying speakers were out of this world! I got to do a little head banging myself. There were moshpits but I said No thank you. Next time, would actually like to get to a concert with friends instead of my sister, so I don’t feel obligated to behave like a responsible adult!

Traveller Conversations

2006-04-02T15:32:00.000+05:30

Old man: Hurry up! Time’s running out, They’re going to destroy everything!
Little Girl: What?!
Serious woman: Yes, this graffiti you see on the wall, that Buddha carved out of the mountain, the Mario world - all of it!
Little girl: But who’s going to destroy it?
Serious woman: People
Little girl: What people?
Serious Woman: Powerful sadistic people.
Little girl: What are they going to do?
Serious Woman: They’re going to paint the graffiti over with grey, dynamite the Buddha and remove the Mario murals.
Little girl: Why would they do that!
Serious Woman: Because they don’t like it, and because they have the power to.
Little girl: Can’t we stop them?
Serious Woman: No
Little girl: Why?
Serious Woman: ‘cause its our fault.
Little girl: Our fault?
Serious Woman: Yes, we gave them the power.
Little girl: Why?
Serious Woman: They fooled us into it.
Little girl: How?
Old man: We weren’t paying attention. We let them.
Little girl: Now what?
Old man: Hurry up and come along there is so much left to see before it’s destroyed too.

All that you can't leave behind

2006-03-26T14:00:00.000+05:30

Honey, I’m home! Was the sort of exclamation I should’ve made on my return from Dubai. The reality was quite contrary, from the minute I bought the ticket home till this moment every cell in my body’s been screaming to remain in Dubai. Maybe because I was just not ready to come home yet, maybe because I hadn’t had enough time to let it sink in that I’d be leaving Dubai and God forbid for good. That is probably why I hadn’t bought the ticket until the last day or packed until the last hour. Ironically, no matter how much I cursed it, I want that life back! I want those friends back. I want all of it back!!!
I want to pile into those little toy buses like prison workers while waiting frustrated but patiently for Nair Sahab to take the last swig and dab out his cigarette and start the bus. the long rides between KV and meadows when your only two options were to make mindless conversation with the person sitting next to you or stare aimlessly out of the window while silently bearing that infernal bollywood hit number for the 100th time.
I miss the being in front of the laptop all day constantly connected to everyone else. Where everyone’s just an email away. Where a harmless email forwarded carelessly could start a war and everybody would just jump in for the action whether it concerned them or not. Spend the entire day surfing the web reading random articles.
The people, I miss the most. Long walks around lakes, houses, trees with friends, strangers and peace. The quirky conversations spilling with humour, sprinkled with satire, seasoned with intellect –pseudo or otherwise.
Before I lose my mind over this god please help me find some form of business!

2006-03-18T00:23:00.000+05:30

She said, "Make a wish."
I couldn't think of anything.
Then it dawned
I had everything i could wish for

What I hate abt Blogging

2006-03-03T19:14:00.000+05:30

Its always at the back of ur mind.
No matter what ur doing - taking the bus home, taking a dump or talking to ur love interest - You’re always wondering whether you can blog about it. You’re constantly measuring its ‘blogability index’(somebody has a trademark on this word). You hack away a 1000 word essay in your head at the speed of light.. Ofcourse, these words come to you at the most opportune times such as the examples mentioned above. There is absolutely no means of recording this lucid flow of thoughts. Five minutes later the bus stops or you pull the lever and your beautiful piece of literature is flushed down the drain.
Finally, one day you find the time and conviction to sit down in front of your computer and write about something and your mind gives you haath (Hyderabadi expression for ditching). It pretends to be the reflection of the maansarovar – clear and serene. Hello, I’m not exactly sitting down to meditate here! Noorie be my name, if it were half as still when I am actually trying to meditate!
[edited]
Then you forcefully wake imagination up from its Kumbhkaran like hibernation, it gets to work bleary-eyed and u end up typing random stuff like this.
[end edited]
~~Then, imagination comes to the rescue on a dark stead, with a diamond on it forehead, and you end up typing random stuff like this.~~

Narrative

2006-03-03T17:44:00.000+05:30

Contemplation
Desparation
Provocation
Execution
Complication
Compunction
Termination?
Salvation!

My two lips are Sealed

2006-02-23T20:34:00.000+05:30

Have you ever been startled by your own voice? I have, lots of times. Infact all the time. I am by nature a very quiet person. Atleast that is how I appear form a distance i.e. to the people who aren’t as close to me. While I’m quiet I have whole conversations in my head, reach logical/illogical conclusions by myself, and crack jokes that crack me up. It’s an entire world happening in my head. On the rare occasion that I do happen to blurt something out the look on my face is identical to that of the people around me, who happened to have heard me; shocked. It takes some time to recover from the shock before I can comprehend the implications of what I’ve said and then device a rescue. Another two words stumble out of my mouth, still incoherent to the world. I resign to my world and everybody else as a lost cause.
It takes a lot out of me to make a verbal oral conversation with people the normal way. I’ve been practicing saying ‘Hi’ to people. Yes, I have to make a conscious effort to say ‘Hi’ to people, I used to smile or nod before i started this excercise.
When you’re this closed to the outside world, people tend to form different notions of you. Some think you’re a snobbish bitch who thinks it’s beneath her to talk to them or you have an ego the size of Atlantis. Some think you’re trying to play mind games with them by just smiling at them. Most often they just assume you are dumb. It’s a tough job to juggle so many images/mis-images at the same time.
It’s a tough life, living quietly. You tend not to have friends or just few friends. It is extremely difficult to express yourself, your feelings, you happiness, your sadness. You find yourself incapable of sharing your emotions, of approaching anybody for help. Then out of shear desperation you turn to the Arts, the alternative form of expression. It is an introvert’s attempt to reach out.

PS: Please don’t approach me personally asking me questions about this blog; I don’t think I’ll be able to answer them.

Simple Things Part 2 - Dirty Vegas

2006-02-10T12:20:00.000+05:30

yes i've run a mile in my head
didn't listen to the things that you said
but it's the simple things that make you smile
it's the simple things that make you smile

so what went wrong?
was it me that let you down again?
so what went wrong?
how could I ever lose my best friend?

cause i've climbed these walls to clear my head
thought I was something more but I'm a fool instead
but it's the simple things that make you smile
it's the simple things that make you smile

so what went wrong?
was it me that let you down again?
so what went wrong?
how could I ever lose my best friend?

Fool Again

2006-02-07T14:54:00.000+05:30

It starts of with a little hello,
A three-minutes-and-i-gotta-go'
Slowly the conversations grow longer
The bonds we have grow stronger
There are animated discussions and modulation of tone
It'd be so difficult to hang up the phone
Then one day you found somebody
who made you feel all fuddy-duddy
it drained on us from the start
Slowly we grew apart
Now you think of me no more
The past we cannot restore
The friendship we had is lost
You've found love at that cost

The Suspense Continues...

2006-01-30T16:52:00.000+05:30

The much awaited sequel to "Kerla trip pt 1". Since grammer was defenestrated last time, i think, it kind of died by the time my brother wrote this one. Added a little to this one just so that it'd make sense to you. :)

From: My Brother
Sent: Thursday, January 26, 2006 9:53 PM
To: Me
Subject: kerla trip part 2

Day 5

:d here i go again

as everyday i woke up on time thnks to my friends we had our breakfast and left for a place to see almost extinct animal called nilgiri tar (i dont know how to spell it) we had to do some mountain climbing and all it was cool. before the trip my teacher told not to look down we went half way on jeeps almost 10 ppl in one jeep so abt 24 jeeps.Then we went climbing, not actual climbing a rocky surface, to climb can walk but while doing tht i looked down O_O we were on the higgest hill in munnar we were almost at the top.

i almost felt like shouting aahh but i was brave i didnt we reached a plain area then we found a road and walked on it we saw the animal on the way it had huge horns one of them went on to hit my friend but it was just a sracth then we took photos and all i will try to send u the photos we had fun there then we went to some place had our lunch and set off to a maluapetty dam (ok it sounded like that, dont know whether it was) i bought some tasty home made good for nothing chocolate there and u know they give 9 pieces and i had only 1/2 guess what happened to others keep on guessing i'm waiting tra...lalallllaaaa
laala

[chorus]
i'hve become so dumb i cant remember anything there become so much more dumb i will be coming there just wait and keep on guessing i am just a time pass I HAVE BECOME SO dumd
[chorus end]
:D this is the suspense in the end u will know.

i bought a toy gun there with tht irritating sound as u know i like to irritae i irritated everyone it the bus what i did was i hid the gun under the seat in such a way tht i can make the ssound with anyone knowing its me so i made everyone so irritated tht i felt sad for them and left playing it (actually wht happened was they all came to know in one instant and took away my gun ) we then went for some tea shopping i bought some tea and all .we reached did some time pass. today we had a bonfire again we thought we will dance again but teachers said no dancing tonite awwww but we will have a tombola and the winner would get a dinner for 2 at green park hotel. my friend won but it was a tie with a junior as the the tickets were duplicate so she gave the prize away to the junior. u know what i didnt win anything actually there shud be a prize of the least no.s cut in a ticket i would have surely won it becoz only one of my no.s in the whole ticket was called out and tht was no 1 .

then we had a delicious dinner and went to bed.

Day 6

we all had a early breakfast and left for cochin and on the way was veegaland a ocean park type place . we started at 8 reached veegaland by 1:30 stayed there till 6 during this time i had fun on dashing cars. [they showed us] one small picture in which they take u on a very dagerous ride and twist and shake us it was worth seeing .U know us we rarely sit on gigantic rides i was forced to sit on 4 of thm. i almost fainted on the first one but other 3 went on quiet well. it was 6 we had to meet at musical fountain karke place it was beautiful we reached our hotel at 7 and had rest and then had dinner which sucked the teachers had decided to have a party like we had in munnar but all the children were too tried to have one more party some weren’t but they were very few so they called it off :(. we all had a sound sleep .

Day 7

we had our breakfast and left for the station

it was pretty much the same on return as we came only 2 differences were my friend didnt jump on me and i wasnt on the window seat :)

and the train was again 4 hours late but when i met mom i was sooooo happy

xxxxxxxxxxxTHE EHNDxxxxxxxxxxxxx

U know what i ddint lose anything during the journey :)

HMMMMMMMMM am i missing something really am I ? if i am plz reply hmmmmm what am i missing

love

gul muaaah

Distance to Discovery

2006-01-26T17:37:00.000+05:30

My kid brother's day by day account of his school trip to the Backwaters, relayed to me in an email. By far the best email i've every recieved obviously for sentimental reasons. Distance has led to my discovery of this flair for writing in him. Ofcourse grammer's taken a leap out of the window here, but he's an entertainer for sure. Someday when he starts a blog, we'll move this there :)

Some notes:
Gullu: thats what we call him pyar se :D
Chi: Stands for chikky, younger sister ..elder to him tho :)

From: My Brother
Sent: Wednesday, January 25, 2006 9:45 PM
To: me
Subject: Kerla trip pt 1

hoy,

ya asked me to right abt my kerla trip so here it goes

day 1

i left the house at 9:30 after eating mommy ka brain we reached there (station) at 10:15 we were supposed to reach there at 10:30 there we came to know tht the train is at 12:00 i got so very pissed off i almost left like killing anyone who comes in my way like why the hell did they call us at 10:30

ok i took it light bolke i boarded the train we started . At 1:00 i was so hungry tht i ate up all the food mom gave me to eat for 2 days hen suddenly as i finished the food the organisers sent the lunch i felt so bad tht i ate up all my food and then the food comes here i learnt to save :) then i felt hungry all evening and the next day too .

Oh! i for got to tell abt the might time we all slept at 12 in the night i was freezing be coz my seat was next to the the door like it was seat no 1

ok i some how slept and suddenly my friend raghu u know him ?? ok anyways this guy is very fat but a cool guy he doesnt get sleep in the trains and likes to wake everyone up this guy helped me reach the bus on time through out the trip or else i would be sleeping the whole day ok this guy jumped on me to wake me up !!!! tht goota hurt when 85 KGs of human flesh jumps on u !!!

i couldnt get sleep for the whole night (he did the same thing to all ppl in our compartment like all our friends. ok so we talked and played away the whole night.

DAY 2

ok morning 7 i called up mom .Then i was so excited tht we will reach by 1 but to my horror when the breakfast came i asked the waiter when the train will reach he said it is 4 hours late O_O I almost felt like shouting NAHIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!. When we were almost to reach the city i just wanted to check whether my number lock is working and wanted to take out a sunglasses from the bag this was the worst thing happened to me the lock wasnt opening with the right combination of numbers i had to break the lock :( but it was all fun.

Ok we reached by 5 then we ernakulam town at 5 we left for periyar at 5:10 almost a 5 hour drive .reched periyar at 10:30 i called up mom and dozed off at the hotel room.

day 3

Today we went for spice shopping and went to a lake sort of santury .i saw a bison and my self hanging or trees (monkeys) and very beautiful birds .At the spice shopping i bought chocolate tea and pain massage oil for pa .when i reached Hyd i had a sip of tht tea and it tasted like shit chi scoled me like hell coz she to drank it i drank it first and said it was good but the after taste wasnt she roared onme but i said u just asked the taste not the after taste :D.

then we reached the hotle by 7 this was time giving prank calls to room no's and all it was fun .

day4

moring i woke up all by myself at 5:00 took bath and woke my friends up .During tht time i had got some 6 prank calls and got a bit pissed off when the phone rang again i picked it up and said " wtf is your problem moring moring hamko parshan kyon kar rahe ho " the person to my horror was my gruop teacher he went off cooly asked "is everyone up get to breakfast in 10 mins ok" i got so embarssed "sorry sir!i didnt know it ws u i was angry coz i got many prank calls before this call sry" he explained " it's ok my boy we all are friends it happens ." after the phone call i said phew!! he didnt get angry at me . we left for the long waited munnar at 8:00 we reached by 3

the rest of the day was giving off for sight seeing it was soo cool we the pace we stayed at ws cool for sight seeing and we stayed in spearate cotages
5 in one in the evening we had a bonfire to which we all danced the whole night long but teachers asked us to back to our room's and sleep .

end of part one suspense will gullu have fun .what will gullu do in the next few days will he miss anyone ?? alll the in my next email coz this one was huge my hand is aching ugh

Disruptive Technology

2006-01-18T23:48:00.000+05:30

January 14th, 2006

2006-01-15T19:47:00.000+05:30

When the winds blew on the equinox of spring this year
it was the sand that colored the skies, not kites.

Please Don't

2006-01-13T17:02:00.000+05:30

To become a soulless, thoughtless zombie
To become an unfriendly, unfeeling machine
To become an irreverent yet irritable slob
To become dishonest, disgusting rattler
To become a head nodding bobby doll
To become a glib talking, greasy salesman
To have the life wrung out of you
To learn how to sell yourself
Do an MBA

Plastic flowers

2005-12-29T23:14:00.000+05:30

You became someone else
When you smiled for someone else
You died and can never be yourself again
You're not real, nor are your emotions
Your thought is borrowed
So are your devotions

In the shadows...

2005-12-25T21:09:00.000+05:30

...of my mind

5 hours and 2 movies* later my head feels heavy – heavier than lead. A wasted day – my conscience is guilty – guilt, I’m doomed to. And my dreams are as troubled as my conscience. Maybe I’ll never be able to shrug it off; hopefully it’ll wash off like a bad dream. But this feeling is so part of me now. It haunts me without reason, even. Even on a well deserved vacation’s lazy Sunday afternoon when I’m chilling at home lying around watching TV it’ll slowly creep up from behind like the camera in those ghost movies and breath down my neck, drumming in my head “you’re not supposed to be wasting your life like this, you’re supposed to getting some work done. There must be some unfinished thing-to-do!” Whirr and whirr it goes on in my head and I cringe with the motion sickness like uneasiness that makes me want to puke. But I just lie there still, unmoving like a tub of lard.

Too disgustingly graphic ? Depressions do good to writing skills eh :D
Claimer: Some line have been lifted from music currently playing: Behind blue eyes – the who, in the shadows – The Rasmus.
*Bourne Supremacy followed by Gothika.

Enter Sandman

2005-12-10T14:58:00.000+05:30

Sand flowing out of my ears, sand in my pants, sand going crunch between my teeth, sand on my face.

Where have I been?
Well, the desert of course!

What have I been doing?
'Sand boarding' down a dune or to admit honestly 'tumbling' would be a more apt verb to use here :D.

How do you sand board?
You first buy a ticket to the Swiss Alps, throw snow in the eyes of a swiss man, steal his board and fly back to Dubai (or any other desert land) or you can just go on a Desert Safari with all your friends for 85 die-rums only.

What do u even see in a desert safari? different types of snakes, birds of prey and camels?
Nah none of that!!! No, no this is not at all like an African Safari. Ok, there are camels there, but they come all dressed up for the occasion with crotia muzzels and jhumkaas. What you also see in a desert Safari more importantly is The Belly Dancer, who also shows you how to make a move or two.

So you think I can get some action at a desert Safari?
If being tossed around senseless, with 6 other people within the confines of a re-inforced SUV when the whole thrill is about the surprise element of the rollercoaster ride because you have no idea what the maniac at the wheel is going to do next, is your idea of action, then yes action is the agenda. This activity by the way is referred to as ‘Dune Bashing’, comes highly recommended. I say go on as many rounds as you can!!! Errr…just don’t eat too much before you get into the car.

Whatelse ?
Bah! You’re just not satisfied easy, are you! What you can also do at the desert safari is recreate you’re beach volleyball experience minus the music of the waves crashing, dress up like a girl if you are a guy, organize party games that involve collecting junk like toffee wrappers and sunglasses, tug-off wars, tying balloons to you’re shoes, stepping on you’re friends toes …errr...alll this is optional … enjoy a barbecue under the moonlight, dance like an idiot till you drop and last but not the least strike a pose and flash a smile when the photographer comes by.

High Spirits

2005-12-04T16:03:00.000+05:30

City lights twinkling softly as you gaze downwards from the 24th floor of the Jumeirah Beach tower. Street lights streaking across like golden ribbons, intricately crisscrossing. A draft from the Arabian Sea blows against your face piercing your skin like icy needles, ruffling through your hair, rustling, sending a spasm down your spine and in the schism of the all enveloping darkness of the night you’re transported to another dimension. You’re with friends with wo've let their guard down with a little help from the alcohol in theirs and your systems. Some pouring their hearts out, others listening genuinely and you’re smiling away to glory. You’re not drunk, you’re happy.
Suddenly it all shatters as if ‘The Rock’ had entered the rink. The discontinuity between my mundane existence and the subliminality of this moment so seriously disrupted my perception of reality that being woken up with a jerk at 6 AM next morning, even before the sun decided to show up, was mental trauma beyond human endurance. I survived.

Accounting for my sins

2005-10-20T18:23:00.000+05:30

Damn! Why do I always end up blogging just before an exam!!!!!
I have a double scoop comprehensive exam in cost accounting and financial accounting coming right up, which will be served to me piping hot tomorrow morning sharp at 10 am…and what am I doing?! I’m blogging about it.
I don’t know whether liabilities appear on the left or the right side of the balance sheet. Hell payments and receipts, incomes and expenditures will somebody tell me what the bloody difference is!
I’ve studied for both the subjects, twice before – the mid-terms and the end-terms. I was super prepared for at least one of them. Then why doesn’t anything come back to me right now?!!! I’ll have to start studying all this from scratch and I sincerely don’t know where scratch is.
The fact that I know that even if I know this subject in and out today and practice every problem in that book, it’s not even going to be a blotch in my mind the minute I leave the examinations hall tomorrow. There will be no value addition. I refuse to do clerk work. It’ll come to me when I need it and even if it doesn’t I’ll do the one day crash I’m saving on today. If I can cram today, I can cram tomorrow.
This blog is going to cost me big time. It’s going to cost me a C in the costing exam. But the return on investment is far greater than the cost, now at least I’ll have my peace of mind.
Yippieee I Blogged tooo! :D

Now I should probably start studying…what do you think I should start with? Hmmm…wait lemme flip a coin. Ah the tough decision we managers have to make! :)

Have a good day people. God loves you all.

This n that

2005-10-11T18:52:00.000+05:30

Not feeling particularly inspired today, writing just because I have the time to do so. There were so many times, since I last posted, when I was rearing to blog, but personal time is guilty time around here. Been long since the last update. So many things have transpired since.
We finally celebrated the end of the semester. Ended the spate of classes with a really happy happy IT in business Class with Professor Prem Puri, or should I say Mr. Prem Puri of IBM. Wow, such a nice person to have known. You know what I’ve realized , the higher up the ladder you go the humbler the people there are. Puri was such a darling. He was so considerate and sympathizing. One of the very few profs who treated us like human beings with thinking minds and not like lab rats out for a riot. I want to work for IBM. *Heeeee *
Went to a friend’s aunt’s place for Navratri lunch, yesterday. Such warm people. I felt so comfortable around them. Her aunt fed us with so much love. What scrumptious food. So what if I couldn’t understand or even pronounce the names of any of the dishes. I eat to my hearts content. Oh the homemade Gulab jamuns we had for dessert …my mouth’s still watering at the thought. Wish we’d brought some home. Bless all of her family, all her aunties and uncles, cousins and siblings, nieces and nephews and the rest of the family tree..you get the drift.
Spoke to a cousin today. Online. He’s such a cutie pie. I told him I lost my old phone – he got worried. I told him I bought a new one - he said he knew dal mein kuch kala hai. Lol. He’s finally graduated as a bachelor of Pharmacy. As expected, his family is forcing him to start handling the pharceutical factories they own. He’s not interested one bit. Says he’s gonna run off to UK or Australia next year. I asked him what he’s gonna do there.. he replies “who nahin socha, bas bhagna hai sochliya”. I hope he decides to stay. We’ve really had some good times together. You know before those stupid family gatherings … the first question that comes up, “Bhaiya log aarahe hain?” and they say,” Neha, chikky aayenge tohi hum aayenge”. Now what are we going to do at those family parties without them!
Another Bhaiya is currently on a train to Mathura nayi-naveli bhabhi sahit. Mujhe toh yeh Bunty-babli vale lakshan nazar aarahe hain. My bhabhi’s such a sweetu. I remember, poor thing wanted to take us all out to have a good time and you know just to get comfortable and mingle with the family. And by some odd play of fortune she ended up taking the entire family , including her saas-sasur and unke bade chote bhaiyon ki family, her parents and siblings, to ‘kya cool hain hum’. For the benefit of those who haven’t seen the movie, I’m not going to describe it. Bhabhi comes up to me and sez to me ki abh mujhe mummyji (mother-in-law) se baat karne se bhi dar lagraha hai. God! That was so hilarious. Everyone came out of the hall, with this expression that everything they saw or heard in the last 3 hrs had been expunged from their memory. Ah…my family is chill...everybody was cool about it.
I’ve really rambled on senselessly, and I’m going to shamelessly post it too, unedited. It was fun and I’m feeling lighter and happier now. Hope it was not too irritating to read.

I am This Movie

2005-09-10T16:24:00.000+05:30

What Classic Movie Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

Hillarious, don't u think !

Marketing Independence

2005-08-28T11:12:00.000+05:30

14th August, 2005: Woke up fresh after catching up on about 7 hours of sleep(luxury ultimatus, by B-school standards), brushed, washed, and sat down to study. Study what?! Marketing Management, one of my favourite subjects…or so I thought. I opened that textbook for the first time. My first reaction: Wow! Colour print! Not LPE (Low priced edition)? I checked the cover only to conclude to my surprise, it is LPE. Jai Kotler! What a man; practicing what he’s preaching, differentiating his product by colouring the LPEs.

Half an hour of reading later, I realise I’m still on the first page and not a word’s gone in. Start surfing the book, still admiring the carefully picked colour scheme. Notice every chapter starts with a quote by Kotler titled “Kotler on marketing”. “That’s odd!”, I say to myself, “Is not this book by Kotler? How can you quote yourself in your own book?” That’s when it dawned upon me Kotler is in fact ‘Quote-ler’ misspelled. Ah, a revelation, bas abh mera din safal hogaya! I had exhausted the maximum utility derivavle from the day. So I can be sitting with the book gaping at me all day and not be able to let it have any impact on my knowledge or understanding of marketing. It was a day long session of yapping with my roomy, interspersed with guest appearances by the next door neighbours looking to take a break from being mind-fucked by Qoute-ler.

So after an entire day of bheja frying when,$ at ten in the night, you realise you’re still absolutely unprepared for the big exam the next day. Panic sets in. I throw a tantrum, “Why the hell do we have to go early to KV (that’s where our college is college) tomorrow just to sing the National Anthem? can’t we just do it after the exam?!!!”
My roomy responds in a serious tone, “None of the people would stay back. This is the only way to get them to attend it”.
The neighbour and I respond in chorus, “You shouldn’t have to force people to attend. The entire purpose is defeated if people don’t attend it out of their own will.” One of us, “Do you think just because a person doesn’t stand and sing the national anthem on Independence Day makes him less patriotic? He could be contributing in a much more constructive way to the nation, maybe through donations or social work or something”.
She responds,” It’s the least you can do for your country.”
I continue,”Can you actually disrespect a country by not standing for an anthem? I mean, it’s just a song! Isn’t your country greater than that?”
She reasserts,” It’s the least you can do for your country. And I get very pissed when I see somebody sitting while the Jana Gana Mana is being sung. I’d ask them to either stand up or leave.”
The neighbour and I look at each other wide eyed and mouth gaping in absolute astonishment. Turn back to look at her and again in a sort of a chorus, “What gives you the right to order anyone to do anything?! You just do this because you’ve been brought up to believe that, that is the right thing to do.”
Roomy retorts, “Well, when you’re living in a society there are some rules that must be followed. Patriotism is a very sensitive issue for me and it’d be better if you don’t argue with me about it.”

Her reply was something that reinforced our view of her philosophy, the philosophy we were battling. It was a lost cause, she was too adamant and we had another 8 chapters to go before the exam next day. It was 1 AM. We didn’t have the time. We buried our heads into qoutler again, my mind still whirring aloud.

Music: We don't need no education, we don't need no thought control...

PS: I'm so peeved that this post is two weeks late. Even the event that inspired this one had blurred in my memory by the time i got down to writing about it. There is so much more to be said...but perhaps that will be another day, another argument.

The Problem with Prose

2005-08-07T23:55:00.000+05:30

Now lets finally get down to the topic I had set out to talk about last time and lost sight of on the way. I apologise. Got caught up, lost track.
So what be the question?! The question be’th, Why verse? I ask, why not!

Let’s start from the very beginning.

When I discovered this absolutely fascinating concept of blogging, I set out on a expedition of the blog world; researched its origin, the meaning of the word itself, its etymology, etc etc. Read a lot of blogs in the in the process. Something struck me quite stark; The blog world is this vast expanse of unbridled, unregulated expression. Frankly because the free spirit, I like to believe, I am, it was this very quality about blogging that appealed to me. But there’s a flipside to this laawarisness: mediocrity. There’re innumerable blogs out there where people just whine endlessly about how the high point of their day was when they got that cup of coffee from the office vending machine and some still brighter souls don’t even bother to put in original work. They copy-paste articles from the net, defeating the very purpose of a blog. Ergo, I vowed, never to whine …on a blog at least. My blog was going to be different.

Now how does one go about being different? My firm belief is; by being themselves. What is me? Me is lazy. Too lazy to read. The thought of wading through those never ending verbose blogs always harrows me. My blog had to be something I’d like to read myself too, and of course write, equally lazy about writing ( I know it doesn’t look like it now, but it's true)
In poetry what I'm able to say in four words, I can’t ever expres through prose even in a thousand words. In poetry each word’s more potent and ponderous than the other. Poetry understands the value of and respects every written letter; never indulging in the frivolity of prose. And the more dripping with meaning a phrase is, the more number of interpretations it spawns. I’ve always been an ardent believer of Derrida’s philosophy, at least have been since my intoduction to him, which was only after his sad demise and I stumbled upon his obituary. His legacy: The theory of deconstruction! Ain’t no theory like it even in the farthest reaches of the universe. To quote from that article:
“theory of deconstruction — the re-reading or breaking down of a text to show the multiple meanings at work within language. Focussing mainly on language, he contends that the traditional or metaphysical reading of a text makes a number of false assumptions — that language is capable of expressing constant and unchanging ideas, that the author of a text is the only source of its meaning and that in the hierarchy of language, writing is secondary to speech.” Nothing subscribes to this philosophy like poetry.

So when insomnia takes over me on some breezy moonless night, I'll give into that higher power and get inspired.Grab a pen and scramble for paper. It is a spontaneous overflow of emotion that we put in words.

Verse or Worse?

2005-08-06T13:17:00.000+05:30

“Feminine tendency to versify”

Read that statement and curses went flying out of my mouth like pots and pans would if I were standing in a kitchen. Feminine tendency! To versify! Ha! Let me point out that there are a lot more poets in the world than poetesses, a lot more famous male artists than female artist (although this is a topic worth discussing, we’ll save it for another day). Of course the only argument that supports the statement quoted here is the theory that Shakespeare is/was actually a woman, i.e., people believe that all of Shakespeare’s works was ,in reality, written by a woman.She just used apna Shakes-Appa-Iyer’s name to be able to publish her work …now we all know what reasons must have compelled her to do a thing as painful as let some cheesey guy take credit for all her creative.

I’m generally not such a feminist, and even if I am, am not so vehement about it. But lately things have been piling up. Some comments flung casually here n there.

Guy: “She listens to rock music! Surprising.”, in absolute disbelief.
Me: “Why?”, miffed by the exclamation.
Guy: “No, you just don’t expect a girl like her to listen to rock”.
Me: One eyebrow raised with the what-the-hell-are-you-saying expression on my face.
Guy: “Girls who listen to rock are more punky”

Well, fortunately, another guy anticipated the violence to follow and intervened with some one-liner that solicited some laughter and put me off track.He got to go home believing his superman vision saved the day.

The final statement that really did the tadka in my plain daal was this:
“Even the most conservative girls started using this colloquial frivolity”
Of course the conservative boys never caught up only, poor fellas.

Coming up next “The Opinionated and The Oblivious”.
But before that "Vhy Verse".

Disclaimer: The views expressed are absolutely temporary and passing. This is not what the author set out to write, although it never is, but since she has written it foregoing an assignment in economics it must be published. A lot of this has been inspired by many people but sources have not been mentioned for reasons like cowardice and sensitivity. Quotes have been edited for impact.

PS: Since this blog has turned out to be so acerbic and kind of a person thrashing round the disclaimer was necessary. :)

Here Goes Nothing

2005-08-02T15:06:00.000+05:30

Sadly procrastination has always gotten the better of me. Never figured out what the source of this reluctance was. Enjoy writing, created a blog coupla times(5..no 7..err lost count). well another bullet in the list of mysteries of the universe. Maybe i was just too lazy. Maybe i'm so much of a perfectionist that no peice of writing is perfect enough to be posted as a representation of me. Or just been busy, perhaps. whatever the reason being,
whether i'm able to answer that question or not is inconsequential. Atleast that's how it seems for now. What is important is i'm here, and have come this far. And one things for sure ... I'm really good at making up excuses :)

Here's the URL to my older blog.
http://parchment.fullhydblogs.com
Close to my heart. Special coz first baby. lotsa emotions attached.
This blog will probably be a continuation of that one...mebbe just a complement. Not sure. Not thought about it. Lets see how things progress. i like to go with the flow. If you're planning to follow up regularly ...this is going to be one frustrating relationship with fickle-headed me. what say? Game ?