My BLUES

Comeback

2011-06-14T00:50:00.003+05:30

A simple word with a simple meaning. We all have had it in our lives, and have seen it in others as well.
A comeback is what constitutes
our history,
our theologies,
our inspiring fables,
our sports,
our heroes,
our superheroes,
our movies,
our personal victories,
our future,
our politics,
our friends,peers,our enemies,
our idiosyncrasies,
everything.

Something that is omnipresent, something that transcends its own meaning. A comeback is just not a positive turn of affairs. A comeback is good for one, bad for another, though never usually a zero sum game. A comeback is like fog, it always feels like we are approaching it, without actually understanding that we are already inside it. A comeback is a traffic jam, we think it is their because of others, without acknowledging that we are a part of it. A comeback is an oceanic wave, inexorably stubborn with its presence. A comeback is unique every time. A comeback is subjective. A comeback is knowing there is no coming back. A comeback is transient. A comeback begets comeback. A setback begets comeback, a comeback begets setback. Here's commemorating the "birth" of comeback.....

Air Drumming--Make yourself heard---or seen, whatever

2009-09-21T21:16:00.007+05:30

"Once in a while a person comes along who holds on to its beat, no matter how hard the world beats back" -Adventures of Power

Out of all the "bands" that I have represented, out of all the performances that I have had "mesmerized" people with(could I BE more modest!!!), there can be nothing in comparison to the day I got to talk to a girl while playing Drums in Hard Rock Cafe. Did I say Drums, I meant Air-Drums. Oh, common, all you shruggers who are just about to shrug the most novel, the utmost of all musical theories, the experience of making an impact with, but your hands and no 'sticks' attached, the joy of rolling those fingers to gesticulate that you couldn't have cared less about the people nearby doubting your sanity and a total neglect to your internal turmoil of not being able to show the world that,"Yes, I have heard this song, its great". Please dont tell me, that you havent tried them yourelves, every single one of us has, now or then, on the advent of their best songs, have twitched their hands to spare a bit of rolls to the air, be it in front of the mirror by yourself or in a bar amongst people. And those of us, like me, who really comprehend the joy of (air)drumming from their hearts, understand, that yes, this guy might not know how to play Drums, but just look at the way he is Air-Drumming.No age long practice, no tuning, no long hours of trying to get the best sound out of the Toms, its all in your head, the more you enjoy it, the better the sound. Headbanging is stupidity. Better bang your head on the wall instead. The joy is essentially in making the music, rather than following it. What fun lies beneath the attempt to time the fall of your hand with the sound of the snare, the joy of fisting your fingers and completing the end roll and then hitting the crash with your head bowed. Thats NIRVANA for you right there.

I am nobody if I dont have some-buddy

2009-09-01T00:42:00.004+05:30

Of all the things, good or bad, true or false, right or wrong, that I remember from December 2008 grilling interview sessions, one question that is rigidly etched on the murals of my brain-wall is

"What do you think is your weakness?"

I could not think of it then, not that I never had one, I always had many. But one that is presently exposing itelf to me is, my over-dependency on others. I cant do one thing alone. I cant take any step without a proper counsel. I am nobody if I dont have some-buddy. I rely too much on others. And, yes I am learning. I have learnt a very important lesson after being alone in this wretched city. In the end, even if you most certainly believe that someone would not leave you on the way, that someone you thought would be with you forever, that someone would always understand if something is wrong with you, you would be left alone eventually. You cannot rely that much on anyone, its all an illusion. And the longer you retain this illusion, the harder it is when this bubble breaks.........

Walking the Straight Line called Life!!

2009-06-03T22:02:00.005+05:30

Watching the dew drops slip

Licking the cusp of the cocktail glass

Life displayed its colors to me

And it’s true meaning at last

Life is a cocktail my friend,

To drink it, is to live

Flaming like hell at some time

At other times it would just chill

Life ain’t as sweet as wine

Won’t get better as you age

Life ain’t as cool as beer

Won’t be as smooth at every stage

Life ain’t as transparent as Vodka

Won’t mellow you down when times are hard

Life ain’t as fleeting as Tequila

Would make you endure when you wish to discard

It is a blend of all the drinks

Don’t search for the perfect proportion

It all depends on the order you have placed

A drop more misery, a drop less salvation

And it’s in people dreams, I think

The quest for the ultimate blend

And they mix and match, day and night

Lost in a game which has no end

It hurts me to think about these people

Who are still searching for the drink they’ll prefer

Wasted, stoned, intoxicated they hopelessly fall

Not knowing, that life doesn’t give a One+One offer

……..

It feels strange to think it this way

When I have everything I need, my mind still would pray

Yearning for the greener grass on my neighbor’s clay

And still mixing the drinks in utter dismay

Goodbye Blue Sky......

2009-05-31T14:00:00.017+05:30

So, it’s finally over. While the new 10,000 mass of ‘spectacled’ eyes witnessed their dreams realize reality on this day of 25^th May (IIT JEE Results), I quietly slipped out unacknowledged, with an Alumni Form in my hand. And yes it was my dream too, to go to IIT and get a good profession and make a big name of myself, I only never want this dream to be fulfilled, damn I wanted to stay here. My mind with a still a long list of should-have-dones and must-have-dones and should-nots, I feel I could have have never got enough from this place.

And now I move from KumAON to AON, from Delhi to Bangalore, from mates to peers, from spending to earning, from jeans to suits, from professors to Bosses, from strolling to chasing, and most of all, from having a life to making a living. And I do believe that I have grown up to be the person who will adapt well to this ‘turn of affairs’. Yes, I have grown up, I have seen quite a lot already. And yet, my mind still disagrees. The fact that I don’t want to change, that I don’t want to leave my present life, the fact that I still want to play AOE, I still want a window seat in a train journey, I still like playing football in rain, I still pick my nose now and then, and also the fact that I still look like a child, makes me wonder that while I moved on to experience the world, I held the wrist of my child and took him along. While the kid in me eventually vanished, the child grew to be childer.

No more Entry no.-2005ME10468. The IIT time has gone. The experience of staying in the beautiful city of Delhi has gone. The time to roam in the streets at 3 in the morning has gone. The night-outs have gone, the afternoon-sleep has gone. The freedom of doing whatever you wish to has gone. The time of screaming and rejoicing in unison has gone. The points, the leads, the trophies have gone. THE life has gone.

Slumdog Millionaire-Victory of what India lost

2009-03-06T19:21:00.001+05:30

Slumdog Millionaire is a British movie directed by a foreign director Danny Boyle who is an AcademyAward-winning British director and film producer, best known for his work on films such as Trainspotting, Sunshine, and 28 Days Later. The movie received a very warm welcome and went on to occupy the main pages of many international newspapers and received a breaking news status whenever any global awards were being announced. The final tally of the movie stands at 8 Oscars, 4 Golden Globe Awards, 58 other awards and 29 nominations.

The movie begins with a police torture, moves onto show some Hindu fanatics attacking a Muslim Slum, then shows how orphaned children are blinded to beg while girls are sent to brothels, and how the underworld here deals in murders and extortion. Finally when the credits start going to the roof, you can see the drums in a railway station, trumpets are blowing and the two words “JAI HO!!” leaking out the cinema hall. And here we are after some months, witnessing Danny Boyle embracing the Golden trophy with his hands.

It is a victory no doubt. We have no past history of any movie related to India getting such international acclaim. But was the victory really ours? A news article recently said that the Indian Government is giving millions of rupees to CNN for the “Incredible India” campaign. But the movie revealed exactly what the government wanted to hide. We all had felt it. The movie didn’t live upto our expectations. We all had felt cheated, somewhat robbed of that feeling of standing up and acknowledging the Oscars as our own. India’s path to Oscars seems to have taken a deep plunge from Lagaan to Slumdog. And while we were just nominated for one award in the past, the moment was still more felicitating than winning Oscars this year. And then starts a series of thought interruptions, of times when Aryabhatta discovered Zero, and another, of the Kohinoor Diamond snipping out from our fingers, Vedic Mathematics, Yoga all in succession, like someone “shooting thoughts with a Sniper from as far as the Past”. India has been cheated again; the only difference this time is, that we are rejoicing the fact.

With this view of the “Slumdog-India-on-air” brought in front of the world, how is it possible that for a country who has been struggling to find even one nomination for an Oscar, hits a jackpot suddenly. How is it possible all the critics of our country, who never left any chance of rebuking any goof ups in a movie, were left paralyzed over so many loopholes present in the movie. And how is it possible that for a country like ours, where sentiments are just on the verge of overflowing with processions and dharnas and burning effigies, this movie passed off scot free. The answer, would match, rhetorically, with what the old politicians tagline, “Bahri taakto ka haath hai”. A renowned director of the west and the pity-seeking imagery of the East, seems to be a perfect recipe for winning the International “Cookery Awards”. And while the actors and directors potbellied themselves with fame and glory amongst the glitterati, the “protagonist” slums rioted (quietly) in Bihar over being called Dogs. But, as they say, Barking Dogs seldom bite; they are better left unheard of.

The content of the movie seems to centre on all the possible book-marked stereotype there could have been for India. The riots, slums, open-roof toilets, children begging, police-torture, prostitution, underworld, they didn’t even leave our “Call-Centre” image for speaking out loud. The movie could well have won The Best Documentary for documenting the stereotypes of India, if not for the drama added. Nothing good could be judged about us, every scene, every shot, and every story has been shrouded so much by the depths of ignominy that it seems that the whole billion of us live in slums, steal and beg for a living, or more precisely it depicted India as “Slumdog Billionaire” in front of the world. And the fact that the movie won 8 Oscars unveils a retarded and imperialistic mindset of people who rule the world of cinema. We did walk over the red carpet that we always dreamed of, but we never in the worst of nightmares thought that we will be floored off it at the same time. The name Slumdog Millionaire is left for all to remember for ages, for us to believe (or made to) that there was a time when we finally were able to make a name in the Academy Awards, for others to muse for years over the sickness and misery that some of us are in and feel proud of what they have. And yet, we delight shamelessly over the victory, while the movie makes a despicable impersonation of our nation. As the movie depicts the scene of little Arvind being blinded, only some of us could really understand the fact that it was all of us who were being blinded, blinded by an award, blinded by the gleaming phase of hollow pride, blinded by calls of JAI HO.

It’s indeed a victory of our failures.

Coz it Doesnt Remind Me of Anything....

2008-07-04T20:12:00.002+05:30

They lie within the deepest abyss depths of our hearts, their importance in our lives occupy such magnitudes of our every emotions and feelings, their hefty natures, without them it seems that the biggest chunk of our way of life diminishes, such are the small trifling happy moments, the small tickling activities in which we spend most of our time and that inundate the evanescence of bigger happier reasons, that defines the not-so-subtle justification of a smile bearing the magnum opus of God’s creation while a laughter, brooding of discontent. They come and go, only to return, and their mark on our memories seems so very rejuvenating and heavenly that they diminish every melancholic frenzy that engulfs our mind. Yet, they are dismissed under the authority of sudden spikes of bigger and influential reasons of happiness. Only if we could acknowledge their strength, their impact, then can we really make each of these smaller happy moments fill up our lives with unbound memories. So, here is an ode to all those small happy moments:
Banta on a hot summer afternoon
Stapling out pins from the stapler
See my self-created paper plane fly smooth
Home Made Rajma-Chawal
See the sun gleaming through dense scrubs
Finding something important lying under my bed that was lost
To have got a rupee more from some barter
To get a cup of tea after a wet rainy shower
….
…
..
.
"I like studying faces in a parking lot
Cause it doesn't remind me of anything
I like driving backwards in the fog
Cause it doesn?t remind me of anything......"

So Sang AudioSlave

My 4000 Words....

2008-07-02T23:40:00.005+05:30

Encumbered forever by desire and Ambition

There's a hunger still unsatisfied

Our weary eyes still stray for the Horizon

Though down this road we've been so many times.....

The Song Remains the Same!!

2008-06-27T19:09:00.006+05:30

I found these two 'Anti-Meaning' devices entangled together in my pocket. Intrigued.........

Not Our Cup of T(PM)

2008-06-23T19:55:00.013+05:30

Warm-Up:

TPM has doubled and even tripled productivity of some of the industries worldwide.
TPM is renowned as a Japanese Concept, JIPM-Japan Institute of Plant Maintenance decides and audits the companies to give a TPM Award every year.
Very few people know that TPM works on a principle of Gandhigiri, a principle known long before Japanese even thought of this concept.
This article ain't as much long as it seems.

Well, I just got reminded of a scene from the movie “Lage Raho Munnabhai”, in which this guy cleans up the Paan stain from the wall in order to teach the fat “Spittoonee”. And while the person rubs off the stain, another thought interrupted me, of times when Aryabhatta discovered Zero, and another, of the Kohinoor Diamond snipping out from our fingers, Vedic Mathematics, Yoga all in succession, like someone shooting thoughts with a Sniper from as far as the Past. It’s been an introspective summer, and I have tried to write something down in my office, amongst all the glaring eyes, amongst all the emotive puffs, the order-giving movement of the lips, and the incapacitated Internet Service Providers, who with their every attempts and discoveries in Firewalls and Blocking Systems have failed miserably in subduing us, from a domain we are champs of.

Break-in-Thought (1): The company where I am doing my project has blocked every mail-site, every video or song site, but still amidst the “This page is blocked” messages, Naukri.com, their biggest nemesis, still appears with full pomp and glory.

Break-in-Thought (2): I wonder what happens when some proxy site becomes famous enough to be blocked by every other office. It’s as if these site makers have to be in between two levels of their fame, one in which they get enough money to work their sites, and two, below a level in which they become famous on the verge of being blocked and being rendered useless, like the myth of Icarus and his Wax Wings, you’ve got to fly neither too high nor too low.

As I have already mentioned in my previous articles, my Intern Project title is TPM, Total Productive Maintenance (It is a cultural change in which operators do the maintenance work also, this in some way enhances the effectiveness of the machine). It is a Japanese concept (as are the 5-S principles, TQM, The Muras etc.) and there is a full flow of activities that need to be performed before you can say that my company has implemented TPM. One of the steps includes that cross-functional managers (i.e. managers from all disciplines, Mech., Elec. etc.) do the cleaning of the machine so that operators see the high-posted officials cleaning, and they too start cleaning (as per the Japanese). I wander back to my stream of thoughts. Gandhigiri, exactly. We, Indians have found out in our own trivial ways know the solution to each and every problem, yet it’s the Japanese and the Americans and the British, who steal the credits. Zero was ours, so was the credit for it, our diamond adorned the British Queen, Vedic Maths, Yoga, we Indians tend to dismiss our own culture, unless the West takes to it.

Read on….

Disclaimer: This post has no intentions of any malicious advertisement against any company. Any resemblance to companies, booming or bankrupt is purely coincidental.

Japanese

Operator to Manager
Sir, I couldn’t help watching you clean this machine, hand me a cloth, call all operators, we have a lot of cleaning to do.
Manager to Boss on Before and After pictures.
Sir, here are the Before cleaning and After cleaning pictures.
Cross-Functional Team Working
Instrument Guy to Mechanical: Hey look, that screw is loose.
Mechanical: Ohh, Thank you Instrument Guy.

Indianese

Operator to Manager
Wah, Wah Saab, Kya Chamkaya hai, lekin wo udhar Drive Roll me abhi bhi bacha hai thoda, and kya saab kapda dho lijiye ab, kaafi ganda ho gaya hai.
Manager to Boss on Before and After pictures.
Arey hamne, Before ki pics to li hi nahi hai, koi naa let’s make this machine dirty again, and then take the before pictures afterwards, in short let’s make the After-Before pics look like Before-After.
Cross-Functional Team Working
Instrument Guy to Mechanical: Look that screw is loose.
Mechanical: Ohh really!! look that gauge is pointing in opposite direction and you Electrical guy, at least insulate these wires.
Electrical: You don’t count my to-do’s, solve this leak for God’s sake.
Instrument: Electrical, do this
Process: Instrument
Mechanical: PROCESS!!!
The members instead of pointing their dept.’s abnormalities, coherently sit and argue what each other has to do.

Break-in-thought (3): Are the rumors true? Is it in our “Indian” blood to present alibis instead of our commitments?

…………….

Before I had started my project, before rain had melted Surat, before I sat dejected over the incompletion of my project, way before I could grasp something I would never get a chance of again, way-way before I understood what flows in our Indian veins, way-way before I wrote this article, I happen to meet an employee of ‘the’ prestigious company, and was discussing about how TPM could revolutionize our Indian industries. He had this to say,
"

Saab, kya TPM, VPM lagega. Ye sab funde nahi chal sakte hamare desh me. Ye
japaniyo ke yaha theek hai jaha har bande ki kadar hai. Yaha mai kisi manager ko
bolun ki kapda leke saaf kare to saab, aapko kya lagta hai wo karega kya? Naukri
se aur nikal dega. Yaha operator ko dikhaane ke liye kaam kare to wo has ke
jayega hampe. Yaha to bas dande se kaam hota hai. Yaa paiso se. Aapka project
nahi hoga saab. Koi aur project soch lo aap

”

Break-in-thought (4): This person incidentally had been transferred that very day, to a place where he knew he won’t have any new projects, any incentive to rise, any promotions. Transfer in jobs is like euphemisms used by private companies with an intention of demotions or suspensions.

I still pursue my project, and it is going well, not because any of this has changed, but because of an inimical threat to the people I work under, because of a Danda, because of a warning of losing a profession, because of a terror of insecurity. I wait for the day when this would change, for the day when I would change; I got one thing clear though, before we could even think of implementing TPM in our companies, we need a little TPM in our own lives first.

Break-in-Thought (5): I actually met this person last week leaving with his wife and his two kids; perhaps I also saw two moist eyes. It had been 20 years that he had worked here; it took probably a minute to read the letter.

Break-in-thought (6): Nothing of the above is untrue.

Stadium Fartadium...

2008-06-15T00:34:00.006+05:30

The last hour of Saturday. A week that left me like a broken ship that is about to reach the shore after a travel of storms and cyclones. I had painted a completely different picture about my summers in Surat. Yet, I sit with my palm on my cheek, my hopes still alive, breathing its last gulp in my dreams. I have a project titled TPM that helps in increasing productivity by decreasing waste. I have found solutions, remove that extra pump I debated, reduce the pressure inlet et al. With the whole week in work, the eyes of my mind see mirages, illusionary images of graphs going high, of bar charts gaining height. I feel something between my thighs, and I realize that my kidney is full. I go the toilet and…, well I pee, thinking meanwhile,

“Hmm, I can pee with one hand, why use both, why waste the energy, why waste water to wash both hands”

and then I start dreaming again of earning billions of dollars by teaching this One-Hand Pee Principle like those Japanese who teach companies the utter useless concept of TPM and earn such fortunes. I return to my cubicle, looking at the clock on the wall so hard, as if hypnotizing it to reach fife thirty. Ahh, I am tired, I feel like a dog that has been chasing some vehicle for two hours, and then giving up in vain, or like a tire that had been slap-pushed by some urchins on a rocky terrain. I had always debated sometimes, near people of “respect”, about how good is Solitude sometimes, infact better than company.

“Imagine a situation when you are in a room full of people, and the jukebox nearby starts playing your best song, well all I want at that time is to blow out my lung and sing like a rockstar, but I cant, I have some rules to follow, I have to behave with an utmost unadorned simple manner. Or why go so far, just imagine yourselves sitting in a crowded bus on a hot Delhi weather, when your private areas start demanding a little rub. It’s the worst torture I have ever come across yet”.

Yet, I hypocritically sit here, triple crossing my noble sermons. The clock had hardly rotated since my thoughts had turned maniacal. My spirits all dried up like my early morning mouth, I wish that all this ends soon. I am helpless damnit, it’s as if my worst nightmares playing live here. I try and try, yet I am not able to change my state of absolute misery, I feel like a victim of some voodoo gimmick, or like a dart-board being impinged by a sporadic machine gun attack of infinite darts.

“Come here all you safety preachers of this esteemed company, can’t you see my head is the most unsafe point in your factory now, it’s going to explode soon”.

I pass a few more minutes in this damned office. I try to scribble* something and end up writing a few lines, yet the clock has completely betrayed me, thirty more minutes, bullshit!! Ahh…well chuck it, ill end here, there’s nothing much to say, I just wish this ends soon.

I miss home, I miss my hostel.

*(Here’s what I scribbled by the way…..
A two dimensional snake writhes
A mouse movement competing with a bullet
Cackles from the back
A tea glass falling and turning cullet

I feel as if I am high
In a domain where it is all forbidden alas
My eyebrows so heavy
The images fly, the cullet turns to glass……

PS: Don’t waste your time by finding any meaning out of this)

Distant Proximity....

2008-06-13T00:08:00.002+05:30

She stood there, on her balcony and I on mine
On that fateful day, at that rainy time
Near, that I can see her waving
Far, that she cannot see me bunching my fingers, bearing the patience of time
Near, that I can hear her shrieks of greetings
Far, that she cannot hear my heart’s painful chime
Near, that I can see her drenching in rain
Far, that she cannot see my tear-filled eyes so blind
Near, that I can dream to be with her forever
Far, that I cannot even speak out my mind……..

The Gujarati effect...

2008-06-03T23:41:00.004+05:30

THE OFFICE

Yet another day in Surat passed. It’s tiring having to drool around with nothing in mind; in fact it’s more tiring when you go at 9’o clock in the morning having a countdown ticker ticking in your mind, 8 hrs to five, four days to Sunday….

THE BOSS'S BEST FRIEND..NO IT's NOT HIS PET!!

“Yes sir, it is already done leaving some routine checkup”.

“Yes sir, I have done that file you gave but Mr. Sharma hasn’t been able to mail me the final checklist”.

“You are right in saying this sir.”

“Where are your boots sir, Ill lick them clean for you sir.”

It’s so very common here. Uptil now it was limited in TV serials or movies. And now to witness it so closely here in this office environment. I did see a lot of departments here, and I used to found at least one special class of people who would have such endless praises for somebody over him. He would have no work whatsoever but when the boss is there, it’s as if the whole company’s workload is over his shoulders. He will try to show strange urgencies, would rebuke his juniors, or just sit in his cubicle trying hard to think of some superb plan to grow the company. But as soon as the boss is gone again everything changes. His arms crossed, he will rub the itch on his ass, he’ll pick his phone, bite his nails, be the first one to get up at the cry of the Chai Wala, would play Solitaire(which is by the way, the most played game here in Gujarat) or just sleep over the keyboard, with the notepad file going berserk as the text grows with the pressure of his head on the keys.

THE SHAHS AND THE WALAS

Mrs Shah(on phone): Can you give the receiver to Mr. Shah please.

Mr. Bodalwala: Yaa sure ma’am

Mr. Shah: Yes

Mrs. Shah: Yes dear, can you please get the kids from the school today, I have to go to meet Mr. Tyrewala to get your car repaired.

Mr. Shah: What kids maam?

Mrs. Shah: What the….. Enough with your jokes, do bring the kids sharp at 1 from the school, chalo I am in a hurry, bye(keeps the receiver down)

Mr. Shah: Arey…What was that?

Mr. Shah(2): Kya huya Mr. Shah, any problem?

Mr. Shah: Nahi Mr. Shah, this lady just called and said that I needed to get her kids from the school today at 1. The woman of today, I pity her husband, the poor soul.

Mr. Shah(2): May be it was a wrong number. But still, the woman of today. They will smother there husbands with everything if they could. My wife is good in this sense by the way. She wakes up every morning, tea, breakfast. She even dropped me today morning because my car broke down yesterday. She is a sweetheart really.

Mr. Shah: Ahmmm…

Yes, you should have skipped this crappy crap that I have written above. You see, all I want to say is, how this place is filled with Gujaratis with names so similar, you cannot even recall who was who. Jignesh, Rajesh, Alpesh….And similar second names…something wala, Shah, Desai…..help me somebody. This weather is irritating enough alone, adding to that Gujaratis, I hate em, I hate em……

THE BALCONY

The wind lashed my curtains with brute force. The colour of the sky outside hinted of a rainfall soon. Somehow it’s the start of something that has the most intense effect. A dogs growl is always more fearful than the bark, the river is the fastest at its source; the sun looks the best when it rises. And here I am standing at the altar of a balcony welcoming the monsoons. The rain hasn’t come yet, but the wind is sending the message about the rain approaching. The feel of the cool wind caressing my whole body, the sweet smell of the moist winds………….its just inexplicable. The view from the ninth floor of this apartment looks like a Agrabah of my mind. Tiny jigsaws of small houses, fitting with each other, cloths fluttering, ant like people walking, I watch on as the song in my I-Pod changes. A few tall flats stand abut with mine in an attention position. It looks as if here lays an (St)Airway to Heaven, inviting. The rain starts falling, the first drop, the second…and then an endless shower. And as if it sqeezed the scent out of the dry sand…Aaah, truly the sweetest smell in the world. It grew dark under the clouds. Suddenly the street lights lit up in harmony as though rejoicing the arrival of the rains, going like a wave on the road and disappearing into the horizon. The song changes again to……Coming Back to life……

I sure am……

How to Rhyme, a Case Study…

2008-05-27T00:17:00.007+05:30

Rhyme Sublime

I wish that this would never end

Your smile divine, the way you bend

The shy glances that you impend

I wish that this would never end

I wish that it would be true

That you’ll be with me, and I with you

And yes, I believe that you have no clue

How much I wish, for this to be true

I wish that I could ask you out

Just one time, let my love to sprout

But still these are things, I can do nothing about

No matter how much I wish, that I ask you out

I wish that it wouldn’t end this way

I stand here alone, in utter dismay

When I held your hand, you shirked it away

I seriously wish that it wouldn’t end this way

I wish that painkillers could do more

Never felt this kind of pain before

I still feel I’ll care for you evermore

Never want to face a pain that I cant endure

It’s not that simple, now I see

You never always get, what you need

No matter how hard you want it to be

In the end, your heart has got to bleed

Cause its life’s way to go up and down

You get some things, the rest drain out

So whenever on the way, something goes wrong

Just leave it behind, and flow along……

Two Steps behind……

2008-05-11T14:30:00.001+05:30

The minds of that reckless driver

And the stipulated mind, still so clueless

Withheld in its uptown glory

The eyes of that Basilisk

Killing them when you, not see

But when they see you

The fear engraved in that fishy smile

Curving a concave to the nose

Murdering with brutal force

Well well well, now you think you get it

And also that you don’t

The day that you’ll break it

And then mend to save it all

When you tighten your shoulders to survive

Ricocheting then to the ground to crawl

While you bend to touch my feet

And pulled it, musing my great fall

Hoping against hope, about living

While severing heads in a maul

I care for everything related to you

Big, or no matter how small

An evanescence of you turning back and smiling

Keeps me fresh and happy, all day long

Your cries and tears, like an acid flow

Floods, scalds my heart and soul

Whenever you are stuck beyond freedom

Don’t miss out, give me a call

I'll be standing two steps behind, waiting

Firm and steady like a wall………

Ehhhhh.....

2008-05-10T22:35:00.001+05:30

Terms like billions and trillions are enough to turn heads, no matter what the issue of discussion is. I recently came to know that the total population of the world is 6,638,073,452 (according to some census). That is six billion, six hundred and thirty two million, seventy three thousand and four hundred and fifty two. Phew!!! According to some calculations, I calculated some very interesting facts. Right now, at this second as I write:

263 people are getting kicked in the nuts (Assuming I get kicked once in 8 years).

263 people are kicking in the nuts (Assuming all tried successfully).

5270 people are puking.

2334456 people are listening to Himesh Reshammiya.

0 should.

1 person is doing this entire thing together. (Assuming there is never a zero probability for any case).

234577 people are giving miss calls.

13455 students are being punished out of the class.

234 people have just realized that they have been duped out of some dealing while 1398235 are planning of duping somebody.

897033 people are flushing their toilets and 65295 people are gargling their mouths, while 3498 people drank their last drop of pure water for about a month.

322345 people are receiving their order from some home delivery restaurants, while 13 people are dying of hunger. (That doesn’t seem bad now, does it?).

234456 people are proposing to some girl while 344545 people are filing divorce papers.

Ehhh….Whatever…….

Is there AnyBODY out there?

2008-03-05T14:49:00.002+05:30

A: Ever thought how it would feel when you are being chased by a bull, or may be by a locked missile meant to tail you?

B: You got no better thing to do, do you..?

A: Well, you are partly right, I have lost everything that I held important and hence have lost importance of everything that I knew was important. Everything is so superficial, all the glitters and mosaic faces, the flinty emotions, everything is so surface like, right on the face, nothing in the flesh.

B: What do you mean?

A: One day, they’ll take you in the skies, and then they’ll push you in the well, one day they’ll promise to take you by the wrist, and then they’ll slap you on the face, and then you’ll regret that day, for it was the day that you assumed would be responsible to others, it was the day when you had held your trust on somebody so much that when it was broken, you couldn’t even pick up the pieces and join it back, you tried to get something together, but it was never the same, it had been deformed beyond repair.

B: What happened dude, you sad about something?

A: Not sad exactly, as a matter of fact, who would even care if I am. It’s a lonely path ahead, you meet faces, you forget some of them, you care about some, and some of them would return that care, but not for long, they’ll stab you on your back as soon as you’ll turn your head. They say that there’s no purpose without love, I say there’s no love without purpose, and there is no selfless good deed, as somebody had put it.

B: Its all rubbish you are talking, obviously there’s still people helping…..

A: Yes there are people helping while you go, there will be people lending shoulders while you limp, there will be people clearing your way when you are weakened, but everything would be planned, everything involves a motive, its all a deposit in the Favor Bank as Paulo Coelho puts it, where everyone deposits to eventually withdraw when they need it.

B: Yes, maybe you are right, even I can think of twenty wrongs if a stranger would stop in the middle of some endeavor and help in my journey, even I think of fifty wrongs if a person lends me money when I really want it, even I can think of hundred wrongs when a girl comes to talk to me from nowhere, but I always choose one single right reason that I could get out of anything, because if I don’t, I’ll simply fuck my social life…

A: You’ve made it look so easy my friend; God has been clearly imperfect in making our brains to see through someone else’s minds. He gave us senses, all imperfect, in fact all confusing with their purpose of being, it had been better if he had not made them instead, because now that they are there, you rely on them, you believe in everything they percept, and that is where they’ll murder your every intentions. It is a lonely path my friend, as you walk it, you will see the ground slip beneath, you will try to hear the sounds from the still graveyards, you will try to hear the groans from a picture on the wall, your eyes will try to define the infinite view of the road ahead, may be you will stop over and sit near a pond, throwing stone horizontally in the waters and watch the ripples marching away in unison, and soon its time for you to settle down, your feet would have rusted, your hands criss-crossed by the myriad wrinkles, your whole body looking like a scarecrow being tortured in the heat of the day, and then you die and nothing remains, your reminiscences too following your travel to the cemetery give the finishing touches to your grave.

B: (speechless)…………………………………………………………………Huh!!I don’t get you……………………………………………………………………

Lost TRUE LOVE....

2008-03-05T13:21:00.001+05:30

Boy: Please darling, don’t leave me now, my career is like almost set, don’t leave me now

Girl: Listen, SHUT UP, you are a loser, that’s what you are, I don’t want to linked with someone as disgusting as you, you son of a bitch

Boy: Darling, why are you so pissed off with me, what did I do?

Girl: Nothing, that’s what the problem is, you do nothing, you just sit idle like a dog wagging its tail, get a life you asshole, you shit-eater.

Boy: Why are you doing this to me, have you forgotten those times when we used to…

Girl: Didn’t you get me, I am saying you to lay off…on your face. All I did was being nice to a person who had no friends because he was so unpopular, popular only as being so very unpopular, and you you…..you are an asshole, that’s all I know

The boy sobs. The girl kicks him. He falls down; she removes her heels and smashes it on his head….. twenty times. The boy cries…

Girl: Don’t be such a cry baby, it’s for your good only, the next time you will know your boundaries, you loser. Even God makes mistakes, he really must have had made you in a jiffy, he forgot to put brain inside your head, you ass-faced goon, you son of a bitch.

She smacks one last time on his head and then kicks with her other foot on his back and then starts to leave.

Boy: Please don’t go, what am I going to do without you?

The girl hurls a stone at him which strikes on his chin, blood oozing out from that. The boy cries a little more, and then stands up, all in sorrow of a lost true love.

Sharmaji se Pucho

2007-12-28T20:43:00.000+05:30

"People are just like Jigsaw Puzzles with more than one solution"
-Sharmaji

A Wannabe’s experience with the Jukeboxes....

2007-12-28T20:39:00.002+05:30

He wandered alone in the party, with a drink in his hand. Smiling in return to anyone kidding around, sympathizing with the waiter, the sound of the churning and the water entering the glass, the order shrieks, the toilet’s flush, the sizzler’s sizzle, chuckle of a kid, the unintelligent circles of smoke of a cigar, the dim lights, the gloating music, the periodical laughter and his mind at the receiving end. Seems so awkward to be left alone in a group, where you have a constant fear of people noticing your masked expressions, and you noticing there’s. He mirrored the happy faces back to the people meeting him. Wolves under lamb skins, pretence filled under there eyes, so reclusive amongst friends, they were like walking photo frames, with smile painted on there faces, they looked like windows in a wall, but when he looked them closely, he realized that they were mere murals. There every move, every expression, was engaged by an ulterior motive, geared together with a psychological wheel that moved in the opposite direction. They were famous though, there faces today looked so similar to there photo-shoot yesterday, with layers of layers of faces carved on there actual face completely transforming there natural beauty to some shiny gloss, burdening themselves with ornaments, round there neck, there wrists, there ears, virtually everywhere, and with clothes, well they weren’t clothes according to the definition, but they looked like some shredded cabbage tied together with threads by a tailor who had to make haste. They were like walking jukeboxes, the more money people showed, the better the music they played towards them. He thought he knew the people standing in the party. But he was wrong. After watching the senile bodies and the decrepit minds, he wondered that its not there fault they have transformed, its there position that makes them lose there mind. Every single one of them has bent under the load of there achievements. Our brains are incapable of absorbing this much glory, this much praise, this much devotion, this much respect, it makes us insane, it makes us lose the difference between what’s real and what’s not, it spoils our logic and sensibility. And I am going to be them one day. ……….

His head swarmed with the momentum of his thoughts, he felt dizzy. He had drunk quite a lot until now, his thoughts took shapes and he started hallucinating. “Come, join us”, he heard from his back. He saw a woman offering a handshake with one hand and having a knife in the other. He ran from her, into a sea of crowd, all pointing there fingers at him and saying in unison,”Come, join us, that’s what you desire don’t you…. come, join us”.

He ran away and sat down on a chair with his head bent down, looking at his shoes below. The weather wasn’t cool that day, he still was shivering. He breathed strangely, as if gulping small traces of air from vacuum. “I am going to be them one day”, echoed in his mind. He could not bear the force of his thoughts, the glass slipped from his hands, his eyes dimmed, his neck turned and he passed out eventually.

Quote Unquote...

2007-12-28T16:54:00.000+05:30

".....Fuck it, we would have injected Vitamin C if only they'd made it illegal......", Trainspotting

The Quicksand Journey....

2007-12-24T20:17:00.000+05:30

His stint of life had been smooth until now. His every step had earned a little more than he had put. His every pawn had salvaged its pride by feasting on a bigger and strategically placed piece. His ship had so far never been anchored and he was completely accustomed to the light disturbance of the myriad trifling tides impeding his travel. Luck too seemed to be playing under him, he had made some few good turns unknowingly, he had played some good moves unintentionally. He valued everything by the fear it instilled in others, by the discontent it conceived in him. He had been under a delusion that this was the best way of living, because nothing had ever come in his journey from his desire to its accomplishment. His eyes had never rained tears, his heart had never felt fear, yet somehow, he still had no peace between his ears. There was always something more he had wanted from everything. His every pawn had seemed to falter in its decision; he always wanted it to still play better. The anchor in his ship, though there to protect him from any obstruction ahead, had been heavy and had been deterrent to the speed of his ship. He dropped his anchor somewhere in his travel, this time with no ropes tied to it, left to sink with no calling back. In his wake of gaining, he had forgotten that somebody is losing too. With his every victory, a defeat also accompanied. He never cared to know that side of the coin, he never cared for the ships he was striking, or the pawns he led to suicide, everything seemed trivial from under the veil of his progress.

One fine day, the tides turned……..

He looked in despair at the rising tides. His island of desire was so near now and yet as if in complete mockery to all his hard work, determinations he could see his ship being harassed by the waves. He thought of anchoring, only to remember that his anchor lay right back under the blanket of that serene part of the sea. He accustomed to the calm sea, never really comprehended his next move. His earlier precariously balanced ship gave way under the diabolic winds. His every pawn suddenly turned to snitches, playing under his opponents tunes, opened every avenue that threatened his own principal pieces, and marauded his own camp. His ship under no fortification seemed to fall like a pack of cards. He had never thought he would witness this side of the coin, this anger of the sea, this change of luck, this change of fortunes. He never had felt that this could ever happen to him and he had no vision of defending himself from this mayhem. Along his journey, he always saw what lay ahead but never what lay above, never what lay behind, never saw how he left somebody under the condition he was in and never saw how those people managed to swim out of that. His success journey had formed a stepping stone for his defeat. His smooth journey was only a delusion, an indication of all the things that can go wrong, a time given to prepare him for the journey ahead. But he refused to hear the sounds of silence that spoke volumes of the deafening times ahead. He realized now, how his life had been a quicksand journey. It was all smooth in the beginning, his first caution. And then even before he realized, he had fallen victim under that mirage of success. Now he could only watch his fall, his dip under the sand. He tried to grab a few twigs, all failing to carry the weight of his “greatness”. He tried to save too much, but never realized that was what hindered in his rescue. He ultimately resigned under the situation, his rusted ship, and all his pawns gone defunct, he knew he was too late; he sunk ultimately, his diadem still smugly stuck in his head was the last to go under the sand.

Die, Die My Darling.....

2007-12-24T18:39:00.000+05:30

I heard a thousand blended notes
While in a grove I sat reclined
In that sweet mood when her thoughts
Bring sad thoughts to the mind

To the”weaker sex”, did nature link
The manhood that through me ran
And much it grieved my heart to think
What a woman has made of a man

“You sick retard, you fanatic loon
You look like a tortured criminal
And yes, I don’t love you
Do you need any more signals?”

Oblivious to this repugnant malign shower
The man, never even tried to seethe
And it is my faith that every bachelor
Should enjoy the air it breathes

With the man turned a sissy,
Who cries wolf at the slightest provocation,
Bringing cash and kind for the missy
He himself leads a life of saintly satisfaction

If this transfiguration from heaven be sent
If such be the fate of every human clan
Have I not reason to lament
What a woman has made of a man

(Source: Written in Early Spring, William Wordsworth)

People Watch Them!!!

2007-12-14T17:42:00.000+05:30

This is a story of a family of a popular (very popular) TV channel series, “Kasauti ghar ghar ke desh ki jisme nikla hoga wo chand jo kabhi suraj tha”…..

1) Families in this world have supernatural power, in a way that all of these have control over death. With grandmothers having produced generations of grandmothers, they simply refuse to die. And mainly, the power favors the female side, because most of the times either grandfather dies very soon or sometimes he is born dead. But the woman, no, they are here to stay, flaunting their superhuman strength, wearing expensive jewelries, maybe dyeing there hair (or may be not, if they retain that feature too), and wearing expensive sarees while they eat, sleep and even while cleaning there house.

2) Every family has a big mansion spreading for like acres and acres. But the important thing is that every family has only one servant serving them. He cooks food for each member of the family and cleans the house with a cloth (these families cannot afford a vacuum cleaner you see). He also has a very important say in every family decision, everyone respects his decisions. A Saas may declare her Bahu as infidel in every other episode, but the servant, the saintly figure can just never be wrong.

3) Reincarnations are all part of life. The men of this serial have had so many lives, even the cat with her nine lives looks cheated. And each time the person dies (or supposed dead) his body is never found. He always just has to crash his car in a jungle full of wild animals and gushing rivers or gorging valleys. And while the debris of the car is always found, the body is never.

4) Women of this family take decisions worth hundreds of crores of rupees while they work in the office. ”Sell that shares, buy that company, wait and watch”, are a few taglines they repeat. But while they are in home, God knows what happens to them, they cannot even bear one growl of there Saas. They are like just ready with there tear tanks ready to burst open.

5) The cameras used in telecasting this show have emotion sensors. Whenever somebody gets a flurry of some emotion, they’ll race towards that person and stop just before the striking distance. And while the cameras transverse, they make a peculiar noise, as if a small kid has been handed over a drum set, and has been ordered to play whenever the camera focuses on a person. The sound goes like THIDISH…thidish..thidish…thidish….echoing all the way to silence.

The most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen in my life. They have had pretty deep consequences on the common life of the people. These have resulted in about a 1000% increase in the sale of Glycerin and tissue papers. Also they’ve led to the growth of the classic singers, who had been pushed homeless with the modern rock music takeover. And on a micro level they have added havoc in my life, with my mother keeping the TV busy, I am forced to write this crap here. But the truth remains, People watch these shows. They have been watching for almost five years now. No matter how nauseating these shows are, People watch these shows. And Balaji telefilms have there reason of making more of these serials, you know why…..because People watch these shows. These producers win awards and prizes all year round, because People watch these shows. More and more people have entering this business of trying there lucks on getting a role on these shows, because People watch these shows. They are paid handsomely with the people in this business, earning more and more with each episode, because People watch these shows. And I wonder if there is anything wrong with me that I dislike these shows that very much, because People watch these shows.

Enter Sandman......

2007-12-13T18:57:00.007+05:30

THUD(1)!!

A sudden voice at the door resonated the fear in me. Bullied by the noise, I tried to take cover, tried to ignore the sound, but each stroke at the door, nudged me further down into apprehension of something evil nearby. With intimidated steps, I moved towards the door, the noise becoming more unbearable with each passing second. The spider webs covered the roof, with spiders hanging from them, viciously gorging the blood of a recent catch, and sniffing the fresh flesh somewhere nearby and suddenly, I thought it winked at me. It was like a circus in air, with some of them ropewalking and others jumping from one place to another like a trapeze artist, the fact that the rickety webs could give way at any moment, augmented the fear within my skin. The darkness in the room added to the horror of the atmosphere, the light bulbs covered with dust formed a ghostly halo over the bed sheet; the floor formed a figure indicating a vestige of a bloody murder here in recent times and the walls, buckled by the load of the roof, formed terrifying images with the permeable window shimmering with the light outside, adding in the essence of a perfect horror scenario. Another

THUD (17)

at the door shook me from the core, with my mind already reeling under the fear, the echoing noises, made me lose my control. I started tripping down and tried to grab on to the table. The infested table, was like a playground for the zillions of ants, they jumped onto my hand and I, well first let myself gain control and then jerked off the ants, with some flinty ants, refusing to let go, they resigned only after a good fight. I wanted to silence the unendurable noises from outside. I lied down on my bed and put a pillow on my head, trying desperately to silence the noise, but in vain. I couldn’t dare to just open the door, with such perils along the way from my bed to the door; I preferred to be a mute spectator. Each bang was like trying to pierce through one of my ear and forcing my brain through the other. Then I heard a thud noise, this time from my side of the walls. My eyes scrambled towards the origin of the noise and quickly spotted an escaping lizard that had fallen from the roof. A view of the lizard sent panic in my mind; a lizard is never a good omen. The light through the window seemed hazy with the lizard crash sending dust into the air that interfered with the light’s path.

THUD (109)….

This sound seemed a bit different, my visitor at the door had used a different tool to make the noise this time, probably a key or some wooden stick. But one thing was certain; he desperately wanted me to open the gate. With an audacious spirit, I again thought of venturing the dark room and opening the gate. I put my foot down on the floor, my bed creaked, and I was back again on the bed. A “creak” is just a normal sound, you hear it all day, but at a moment like this, it sent shivers down my spine. “Ok, it was just a creak, no big deal” I thought and again put my foot on the floor. The bed creaked again but the prayers in my head tried to supersede the sound. I prayed all the way to the door, under rickety webs, through a dusty path, passing the diseased table, lost my control twice over the dirty clothes and bed sheets lying on the floor, and finally managed to reach the door.

THUD(283)….

”Coming” I shrieked and unbolted the door. Chandan was outside, looking furious and no lesser than a ghost. “KYA KAR RAHA HAI.” He enters in.”Sharme, apna room saaf kar le yaar”.
“Haan yaar, aaj karta hun”, I replied at the unsolicited advice….

And I thought, I had a Friend....

2007-12-06T03:35:00.000+05:30

I burned like hell
To keep you cool
But now I have realized
I was a Big Fool
While I melted like a candle
You couldn’t even bend
And I had thought
I had a friend

I had suffered long
To keep you remote
From all the tensions
And thoughts forlorn
Never asked for a favor in return
But a sympathetic gratitude
But all I had was a cold reply
In my times of solitude
While I prayed and apologized
You did nothing to mend
And I had thought
I had a friend

Never wanted to give it up
Even though you had made it clear
That I wasn’t important enough
That I was no longer dear
Still, I was very optimistic
And thought, we’ll pass this phase
But you had other plans
Of digging the already dug graves
Never want to live those times
The times, I wasted on you
With my efforts ending futile
Life is unfair; you made it look so true
While I took every pain to feel
You never tried to comprehend
And I had thought
I had a friend
And I had thought
I had a friend….

Two Wrongs don’t make a Right, Three might….

2007-11-09T23:16:00.001+05:30

Sachin’s straight drive truly exemplifies Class. But he is so perfect sometimes; he would have rarely missed those centuries that he should have got, if not for the straightness of his shots. Many a times the ball after the pounding from the bat would go onto hit the stumps which otherwise would have undoubtedly earned him a boundary. So very unfair. But so is Life. If you are too straight all the time you would end up getting nothing. You have to be a little skewed towards that cunning part of you. All famous people, all successful people that you know around you, you have to agree have been quite selfish, cunning with their dealings. But it’s all a part of being successful, being strong, being famous. Here’s how God must have planned it……

Consequence of a C-Slot Lecture

2007-11-08T21:21:00.000+05:30

Its 08:06 in the morning. After having to fight with myself over the issue whether to attend this class or not, I have managed to reach here quite early. The blackboard stained with white chalk lines made me realize how all my past classes had been complete waste. Two years have passed and I still wonder, what has IIT taught me? With assignments and projects, minors and majors, looping around our lives here, it has killed that desire for knowledge, the desire that we had engraved in our minds, before we came at this place. And while I sit under the roof of III LT4, I ponder what this place has actually taught us.

Lesson-I-To make the most of our opportunities
Life is too short to miss the opportunities that it offers. The people here have seemed to grab on to this concept a little too much. They will never miss the opportunity to rob you off that one thing you pleasure in my mess. The not-so daily pastry that seems to be your one good reason to pay homage to the mess, is the most coveted commodity here. And then while you cry on the dinner table, they’ll make a victim out of someone else. You simply sit there in disgust, thinking of that invincible plan of getting “Your Precious” back; meanwhile you realize that it had already been devoured by some devils, half of it falling on the ground adding another blow to your already victimized state. And then you realize the reason of being such a loser in front of everyone. You had an opportunity earlier in the night, when you had seen a plate, completely unattended, with the pastry in the middle, glistening, as if inviting you to take hold of it. And you simply laughed it away thinking, I have mine, I am happy with one—a perfect lesson for all you people who had laughed their opportunities away, never thinking about the dark times that so very certainly follow.

Lesson-II-Doors would open for you whenever you want them to open
I stand outside a guy’s room, with a door between me and my lab report; I had forgotten to get it from his room last night. Already late for the class, each passing second reminded me of the professor’s fury the last time I was late for the class when I reached at 2’o clock in a 1’o clock class. It was burning like hell on that summer day, everyone had obediently already left for the class on time and I was standing alone outside the room noticing the strange pattern of the movement of the ants nearby. And then as if under a trance, my right hand wandered off to the latch above the door, and “Lo and Behold!!” I found the key, the key that opened the gate, the key for clearing the hurdles that were obscuring my determination to arrive on time in the class. I took my lab report and ran down the alley, with rooms on both sides, and suddenly it dawned to me how all the pleasures of other rooms await me, with another set of doors standing guard against me and my pleasure. And as I had known, I slipped my hand again to the latch of somebody else’s room, and I found the key.
In the evening, when I returned after successfully getting a tick against my name in the attendance list, I saw a group of people complaining about some theft of pens and food items from their rooms. I passed through them, smirking at the benefits of a new lesson learnt.

Lesson-III-Lead a Philanthropic life
The one good thing I learnt here was how balanced life becomes when you stay at hostel. Almost never is there any shortage of anything you need, be it a comb, toothpaste or money. Talking about money, this place gives me a feel of a Stock Market, full of share buyers and sellers. Its like a miniature corporate world, symbolized as a hostel. Whenever anybody is short of money, there is always one or the other who will be having a bit extra and would lend you that. Though the market remains bullish for most part of the year, with equal number of money seekers and money givers, the ratio sometimes tips off and at that the hostel experiences a bearish season, with people searching for that small bit of money in each room, thefts galore, this time is certainly very encouraging for the mess people. With people swooping in to the mess forcefully, the butlers get more number of people to torture with there inexplicably yuckkkkky food!!
Another example of the benefits of choosing this lifestyle here, are the life saving proxies. Look, you admit these things before you read on:-
1) You cannot even think of attending all 75% lectures by yourself, you need help.
2) Well, that’s about it for now……
We, engineers (as we are acknowledged nowadays) can make some impossible tasks possible. We can make a man go ahead in future, we can travel to moon, we have the revolutionized the world from what earlier was a Stone Age, but damned we cannot attend lectures. It has inherited in our blood for so many centuries now. All modern day discoveries have been more of an accident than a consequence of a degree in a science field. You cannot survive in IIT if you don’t get help here; you’ll obvious flunk in more than one course if it is not for the proxies. And for someone to proxy for you, you need to return the favor by “proxying” his attendance. It is a simple favor barter system again. Important lesson this one.

Lesson-IV-Patience is the key, never Lose hope of what you aspire
www.orkut.com---the most visited site in the IIT server. Ironically though, with the IIT server refusing to delay even the login page to appear in about an hour. But to orkut, you’ll need to wait. Have patience, keep a book handy or play something in your computer or may be even study, while the page arrives. Don’t lose hope though; the page would definitely arrive even if you have to wait the whole night. Its not like a hope that you get when you get money out of ATM. I have for one seem to be highly optimistic about the case that the money that the ATM pouts out would be more than what I typed, I immediately check for this case. Alas, as much firm my hope was, the more delinquent the result always is. But IIT’s server would never allow you to give up. It would make you sit and wait for its arrival, because it has never offended your request before no matter how late.
Another example would be during the times when our minors are going on. As is always the case you are completely unaware of the course. You see two class-going fellows and they are discussing about some “Hypermetropy of the Metaphysical Cabismatic Tomography” and your mind thinking about the last day meal at Rajender Da Dhaba, you simply want to give up. It’s already midnight and all you know about the exam tomorrow is the time and place of its commencement. The lesson here is not to crunch under this crunchy situation. Believe in yourself and work hard…..ahmm…not just work hard, work intelligently. Don’t think if you could ever swallow the oceanic syllabus, just keep yourself awake and attentive. Remember that:”Rome can be built in a day”. Even Britney Spears could write and choreograph an entire song in a single class session. (Oops, I did it again…you need to watch this video)

Well, as hard as our professors would want us to grab on to what they teach, all of us know, they haven’t tried hard enough. Its 08:55, time to finish the article, I am currently acting to show my professor that I am listening to what he is saying, nodding frequently(As said by a famous fishmonger:” The more the nodding, the more the understanding.”), though everything he says is escaping me. I today realized that I can sleep with my eyes open. I look on the roof; I am confused whether this room is III-LT4 or IV-LT3. Meanwhile, my class has ended, Bye!!

IITD-Nescafe Story

2007-10-28T01:47:00.000+05:30

The day ends, a hard and tiring session of practical summed up with the morning lectures have taken the toll on the students. They return to their homes, droopy-eyed, heads facing the ground and shoulders sagging way below. The lecture-burnt travelers though get one sight to cherish, far in the distance; there is an oasis of sorts with people relinquishing their thirst with goblets of Ice-Tea and breaking there fasts with muffins and maggis. The sight itself seemed to pump their hearts with energy, their movement suddenly gained a bit of urgency, eye-sights riveted on the Frappe Machine and hands on their backs exploring the wallet for money. “Bhaiya, 3 Ice Tea aur 2 frappe dena”. The “Bhaiya” danced with the glass and pressed onto the Ice-Tea machine and the Ice-Tea cascaded down into the glass. He placed the order one by one onto the order table which the travelers picked and drank with an animal thirst, with no one waiting for that customary greeting of “CHEERS!!”

This is Nescafe for you—an oasis in this desert of a campus of IITD. Almost everyone that includes himself/herself a part of this college patronize these stores and owe to this place not just mere frappes and ice-teas but memories that would remain etched forever in their minds. A place for fun, a place for confessions, and a perfect place for those post-booze sessions that some of us quite enjoy, this college is “completely incomplete” without them. A birthday would not truly begin if the ceremony of “Birthday Bumps” is not completed. Carrying a deformed hind and a stinky aroma of ‘Dahi’ for the whole day, it constantly reminds the birthday boy that this day is indeed special. And then begins the treat, under the starry sky and under no snobbish delineation like that in a restaurant, you devour through Muffins and Croissants, giving that perfect start to ones birthday that he always wanted. Talking of perfect starts, this place also seems to be an ideal place for the sprouting relations of a couple. These couples are often found exchanging words and revealing secrets on these benches which oblige to them every kind of privacy they need.

In all, Nescafe has truly added a flavor in otherwise monotonous lives of ours. The frustration of not finding maggis in the late nights, the innocuous threats to “Bhaiya” when they delay the orders, the life awakening coffee in the mid-minors, all have been an important part of being an IITian and hopefully we would carry this along with the inexorable passage of time.
I would like to end by saying that Nescafe is not just another food stall; it has become a way of life for many of us.

Coming Back To Life....

2007-10-19T23:37:00.000+05:30

The horizon galored on the sea-edge, the sea waves noshed the volatile sand, the gulls collated in the bloody sky...all with their dynamic aura ridiculed the statued disposition of the turtle. Cohered to his eggs, he yearns the sea, but is tied by the boundaries that require him to savor even the harshest hardships with utmost pleasure. Burdened by the bony shell and the responsibility of carrying over his generation, he stands guard from any danger that the egg might face. The sun condescended over the skies and incinerated everything that it could see. The waves crossed their last ascent and kissed the turtle. The turtle tried to grab on to the water, but was left alone in the desert that followed, the coolness of the sea drops on his nose still tormenting his interiors. He remembered his days in the seas, those days when his thoughts flew like a wild horse, with no boundaries and no ropes tying them. How cool the water used to feel then, how all his movements were so greased that he flew in the ocean with perpetually no frictions, how he used to play around with his friends, how he used to relish the warmth of the sun above the waters, and when he used to feel hot, he used to dip down again with the sea embracing him and veiling him against the sun’s rays. He had heard a lot of stories about the horizon and was captivated by its beauty. He used to go up and see horizon all round him and from then he made it his aim to reach there and one fateful day, began his journey.

His thoughts were broken with another advent of the sea splashing him. A tear drop fell from his eyes, vaporizing in the hot sand. And now he thought, everything has changed. The very same water that held him so very motherly, teased him every now and then. The sun that looked so very harmless from under the sea, now was engulfing his flesh and his spirits. And his free mind and movement had now been tied to the ground by the rough sand and by the fear of losing what he has now. The search of horizon had truly misled him into the wrong way and now he realized that there is no horizon after all. It all ends up in same way it ended for me, the same sand and rocks and the sun.

The impetuous waves heaved again and this time wetted him completely. As though cleansed with the water, he opened his eyes and thought,” Though I can’t go back and make a brand new start, I can start from now and make a brand new ending”. A tinge of happiness surfaced on his face. And he stood up, jerked off the sand from his shell and ran towards the sea shrieking with happiness.

Inspired by:
“Beyond the horizon of the place we lived when we were young
In a world of magnets and miracles
Our thoughts strayed constantly and without boundary
The ringing of the division bell had begun…….
………………………….”
High hopes, Pink Floyd

Intrigued!!(Can Be Skipped....)

2007-10-06T19:45:00.000+05:30

There could not have been a better time to think about all the intricate questions surrounding us, when I and my friend sat in the balcony during a wet summer night. And as is customary with the “Delhi Vidyut Department” on rainy days like these, the electricity was off, though this enhanced the essence of our debate. I don’t know which of us started this but we surely were heading to that realm of our discussion which no science could ever prove, in which every question had infinite conclusions, which required no PhD on any topic to base our theories on, and which even though could be discussed all night long would never bring any change in our so very purposeless and microscopic lives. “Everything is useless”, he said. So it is. I believe in the notion too. We live and we die, it’s as simple as that. There is no purpose in living or in dying either. When somebody dies, what do we say about his life, what change happened in the world from the moment when he was living and the moment when he died. Some say that he helped everyone nearby him and did some great works or made a scientific theory that revolutionized the world….But all that is useless, because what all change the person brought is merely a change in the useless lives of others. So in all, every step of life is merely a choice between two useless options. When we say that we eat food, it’s merely a choice between the two useless options: To eat or not to eat. And we always choose the former one.

Ahmmmm….Another question. Why do we always choose the former option? When we are hungry, why is that we always have this eagerness to eat, even though both the options are equally useless. Both of us pause for a while. It was now that we were broadening our scope of thinking, our minds trying to find some explanation about everything illogical around us-say, the infinite nature of the universe or what happens once we die? I have always wondered and tried to reason out the logic behind the theory of Big Bang. It says that the universe once was a very dense point which exploded many centuries ago and formed the universe we are living in right now. Now, if the universe was a dense point, where exactly was this point present, or in which medium was it floating on, or if we could define the dimensions of the point, what was present outside those dimensions. And now we say that the universe is expanding and increasing in size. But what is it increasing on?

This is how Stephen Hawking began “A Brief History of Time”
“
A little old lady at the back of the room got up and said:”The world is really a flat plate supported on the back of a giant tortoise.” The scientist gave a superior smile before replying, “What is the tortoise standing on.” “You’re very clever, young man, very clever,” said the old lady. “But it’s turtles all the way down!”
“

That is it, I thought. If you remember a little programming, there is a simple method to solve some of the problems called Recursion, you would clearly understand what I write ahead.
(*/A Simple Recursion Example/*
define function(n)
{ If n=1 then return 1 else return function(n-1)+1}
call function 2
)

Everything defined in the universe (and I mean EVERYTHING) follows the basic fundamentals of Recursion. EVERYTHING is recursion done infinitely, both increasing infinity and decreasing infinity. My every doubt started fading away as soon as I thought of EVERYTHING in this way. The infinite universe can be thought of simply as a sub-universe governed by a universe, which in turn is a sub universe of a still higher universe (too many universes there!!). In this way, we can in somewhat manner define the true infinite nature of the universe. And it also predicts how we can find a thing even smaller than the smallest thing you can imagine because the recursion is in both directions. (Although there is no visible proof for that)Our sub-universe is defined as the universe that we can see or visualize or understand, the rest (for example, the part of the universe outside the big bang emerging point) is another level of universe, that is not part of our sub universe, and we have no control over it. This theory also explains the simple existence of God.

Have you ever thought about your thoughts, that is how do you think them or in which language do you think them or if there is any language associated with them. I personally believe that I ‘think in Hindi’ (but still I am a little skeptic about that...). Now think about that new born child that has no sense of any language….. what must he be thinking or more importantly how is he thinking? Or think about any animal…… what must be going in it’s mind?(If there is something called 'Animal Mind') But still that child would always know that he has to cry when he is hungry or has to laugh when he is tickled. Shakespeare once said,” All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players”. Intriguing….I thought.

Suddenly, I could link everything. What I deduced from this is that everything that is happening around us is a part of a sub universe, a sub universe that is governed by a universe that is a level above us. It’s just as if someone is playing a game with us and governs our every movement, feelings and emotions. We in our language call it God or any supernatural power which is present everywhere and has formed a “Method of Living” in our sub-universe. Every scientific law, every social norms, every earthly phenomenon has been made by that power. The urge to eat, to drink, to breathe all had been ways of how our power wanted us to exist. And in turn, in the same way as we are governed, we must be governing another sub universe that is a level below us. The fact that we are not aware about this, that we do govern, has been intended by our power. And we, ignorant of all this devised our own ways of justifying things. All the sciences developed and theories put forth by the very eminent scientists all over the world were a way of justifying the things we observed in our universe. Its just like our power is playing a game with us, like for example, all of us have played Super Mario on our computers or TVs. We completely rule over this guy named Mario, its just like we are his power and our universe is ruling over his universe. Mario thinks his aim or in broader terms his purpose of life is to save the princess. But to us-the power, this aim or purpose is completely useless, just like our life here is useless to our power. Mario cannot get out and affect our existence in our universe in any manner. Mario thinks his purpose of existence is to save the princess who herself has no purpose of existence so in all the existence of Mario serves no purpose and it is utterly useless for him to live, just like our existence here in our universe.

Phewwww!!! I felt cold. And as if I expected it to happen, the lights came on. Thank you My Power !!….To have given me this useless life and to have filled my brains with this crap. I picked up a beer from the fridge and ultimately dozed off, still feeling the cold from that discussion on the balcony.

Duniya Ka Sabse Bada Performer

2007-09-14T12:45:00.002+05:30

It was a Monday afternoon and I was all alone in my home, stuck with my little cousin brother whom I had to handle for an hour before my chachi arrived back. Suddenly he came running with a book in his hand and said, "Bhaiya, listen this story.". Thinking I had nothing better to do, I solemnly sat down and my brother began.."Once there was a Cap Seller. He was passing through a jungle. Soon he became tired and slept under a tree. The tree had a lot of monkeys and they saw the man sleeping under the tree with a bag of caps on his side. Trying to imitate him, they all took out the caps from his bag and each one wore the cap and started shrieking with excitement. .....".

This sounds familiar, I thought. All of us might have felt how sometimes a moment in your life had happened before, like it seemed that not a moment ago you had thought about it. I tried hard to remember what was that thing that reminded me about some monkeys trying to imitate a person by wearing caps. "Bingo!!!....". I did not know how it struck me but imagining a person wearing a cap immediately led me to understand who I was trying to remember. "Himesh Reshammiya!!". My body shook. It gives me shudders everytime I imagine his face. Its like, as if I am in constant competition with God,.... because once after eating in my mess, I said to Him.."I think this is your worst creation, you cannot possibly make something as awful as that.". But God has never left spared a chance to show who is Boss. First he sent Balaji Telefilms and now as if making a final statement he made Himesh Reshammiya. God, you proved your point BIG TIME. LETS NEVER FIGHT AGAIN.....

I felt so honored that day when I watched "Aap Ka Suroor" complete....in one seating...It was like a feat, an achievement that I'll never forget boasting about. May be I'll add it in my Resume to show my patience and determination skills.(Although I had a lot of practice in IIT, while waiting about an hour for just the orkut login page to arrive). "Indian Rockstar in Jail"......"Duniya ka Sabse Bada Performer..."...Believe me when I say, these two lines can make a funeral ceremony look like a Stand Up Comedy Show. But who am I kidding!!! This capped crusader has been winning every single award, be it music direction or playback singing, he seems to somehow have hypnotized the public into liking him. At least one person from three,
seems to be his fan, and at least 1 from his 3 fans have started imitating his Dressing Style, that is wearing caps, overcoats et all. (See the link between the monkeys and these fans??).Wembley Stadium, London which recently hosted Metallica, had already been honored by a performance by our great HR a year back...(They'll never make the same mistake again, though...It is believed that his voice still haunts many who attended the concert,...England has been observing a record rise in suicides following the concert,....... both humans and animals).

His albums have a common feature(except from the fact that he has a strange penchant for overcoats, caps and large-buckled belts), that in his every video all the girls go gaga about something in him. Now girls....Seriously, have you completely lost it?And for those who had been betrayed in love by there female counterparts, dont blame yourselves for it. With girls going mad for a goon like him, there's no knowing the limits of lunacy of the person they might be leaving you for.

Huhhhhh!!!And whats with his band...his music mostly resembles the genre which is so implicative to the modern Bollywood Music Industry.. And rarely have I witnessed any of ...say a Bass Guitarist or a Drummer in his videos. Its like he is a one man band who sings and plays all his instruments himself. All his songs have a similar way of progressing--First there is a trance kind of a beat..something similar to a dhik..chik..dhik..chik...(Its not too tough to generate, you just need a synthesizer and can be started by pressing a button), then starts a basic 8 beat or a 4 beat synth tune(which again can be started through just a button), and then commences the Royal Nasal Glory of "The world's best performer". In his concerts, out of 100 people present on stage, only one contributes to the music part of the concert(or the cacophony part) i.e. HR, the rest includes dancers, pretty girls trying to get on top of HR(may be trying to remove his cap to reveal whats hidden in the hollow depths of his head) and small kids to add the "cutish" essence. Well I could ramble on and on about him, the reason being..I really abhor him from the core of my heart.

"Bhaiya, bhaiya....wake up.". I had fallen asleep."Ohh!!So sorry...where were we??" I said. My brother continued,"Hmm..And then all the monkeys dropped there caps. And the cap seller picked up his caps and left the jungle.THE END".
I smiled.
Hope his reign ends soon....

The Entertainer

2007-06-21T19:00:00.002+05:30

As I walked on the Bath Abbey streets, I saw a group of tourists huddling together near the entrance to the Roman Bath Museum. Intrigued by the commotion, I walked towards the crowd. It seemed like a street play something show was going on. As I peeped through the crowd, I saw that the stage was empty with everyone shouting and howling for someone on the stage whom I was not able to find. "Has this guy made himself invisible??", I thought. Suddenly
a man from the crowd emerged and started laughing with the crowd joining him.
Entertainer: If you have just joined us, I just did a trick which is called the, "Bee on the Honey". It took me a while to understand the trick and soon as I got it, I joined the crowd in their appraisal for it.
Entertainer: Now for my next trick, I'll need two people from the audience please. Yes, you in the black shirt over there, and you standing there in the back, come up. The two men made their way towards the entertainer and all three shared handshakes with each other. Then the entertainer gave a knife to each of the persons and kept one for himself.
Entertainer: Now I'll try to juggle three knives together. I havent done this before so please anyone who has the ambulance number on his or her speed dial, please come on the stage.
An over enthusiastic girl from the audience, lurched forward with the mobile in her hand. The entertainer didn't expect this.
Entertainer:(to the girl) It feels a lot better with you on my side. Everyone laughed.
Entertainer: Now to show, how sharp these knives are, can I have a child from the audience? Again everyone laughs. The trick took a while and soon the event reached its conclusion.
Entertainer: You have been really generous to me for the past half an hour. And now, as I go its time for me to bid my farewell. You gave me your time, and I thank you. You gave me your laughter, and I thank you. Now its time, for you to give me your money. If you give me 5 pounds, you'll make me happy. If you give me 10 pounds, you'll make me very happy. And if you were to give me 20 pounds..............I'll make you happy.
The crowd laughed again and started leaving.
Entertainer:No, dont leave. This is my job. This is what I do for a living. So please all of you, put your hands in your pockets, or someone else's, and take out three or four pounds..................................and give me the rest. If someone of you is not from England and dont know what a pound looks like,.....its the blue paper one.
The crowd started to move forward and paid according to there satisfaction. It was a nice evening. He made my day and I know plenty others who would agree with me. Nice Profession indeed-Entertaining people....