Stoned Wash..

2010-05-17T04:02:00.000-07:00

The stargazer,
poured sprightly rhapsodies..
on meek somber knaves,
to heal the mundane..
for the worth of the man,
mourn we must not..
let the requiems bleed,
to decorate his soul..
RIP, Ronnie James Dio,
you shall be missed..
help me safeguard the memories,
as I surrender..

2010-04-28T00:33:00.000-07:00

Spent a sleepy afternoon doing something that I thought would turn out beautiful

2010-04-26T00:02:00.000-07:00

The Tautology

What if I knew what happened next?
Will I do something different to prove myself wrong?
But why would I do that?
Didn't they say, power is best when misused?
Well, you've made that power impotent now.
And why is that? I'm still the master of my own destiny.
Not really. What you have is a fancy dressed power of day dreaming. A well sauted status-quo.
Hmmm... Back to work now..

2010-04-07T04:14:00.000-07:00

Palindromes
Wriggling like an upturned cockroach, a hand sets you straight. You set out for that elusive freedom. Prancing around at the cusps of transition. Defining loyalties, Shifting loyalties. The whole script reeks of inevitability, but no. You know that all's well doesn't end well; but you bask in denial. They say 'you chose the wrong road'; you scoff. Not at them, but at yourself for the charade. A charade that wasn't supposed to be. But you move on, wearily. Brevity and ignorance are virtues long lost.. Life was much better upside down.

2009-11-13T08:37:00.000-08:00

Heresy

he listens to one, he listened to all,
too engrossed he was, when he himself called.
the man was now midway, in a meaningless chase,
looking behind forbidden, he could never retrace.
in search of a purpose, he cuts through the fog,
to humour himself, this dead horse he flogs.
his world panders, licks, whores and cheers,
choosing to bury, all their perpetual fears.
he walks in denial, with the neutered mob,
unaware of a tumour, the incurable slob.
the patron was back,to his insatiable best,
hungry he simpered, at the gratifying test.
red tastes sweeter, sweeter when old,
revenge served best, best served cold.
he died soon enough though, before his tales could be told..

2009-06-01T14:40:00.000-07:00

The Stalker

you identify an emptiness
you dream of getting rid of it
you feel that you can do something about it
you seek out to do it
you are helped by someone who can get you there
he promises you happiness
you are influenced by him
you are burdened by his sphere of influence
but he promises you truth
you sometimes disagree with him
you slowly lose interest in him
he continues to pour a piece of his mind
you want to do this yourself
you try doing it your way
his advice turn to deaf ears
you bask at the easiness of the task
but you doubt yourself at the last step.
he has influenced you subconsciously
you stop doing it your way fearing failure
you run back to him
he censures, sermonizes
you decide to obey him
you realize that there is only one way - the right way
he smiles a smile of victory
you still aren't entirely convinced by him
you trudge along with him, compulsively
his nervous gait has a sense of assurance.
you question your motive.
you ask, "with happiness, what is the point of living anymore? there is nothing left to prove"
he turns a blind eye at your quandary
you introspect
you discuss, but there is no one to discuss with
he coerces you to try harder
you shudder at your apparent lack of confidence
you ask yourself "Who needs it? and for what reason?" and answer "no one, and for no reason"
he empathizes, and tries to convince you
you, accept defeat, but there is no turning back
you move ahead, swallowing fear and pain
but he refuses to walk in front
you feel his hands deserting you
you are now forced to walk alone
he turns from a guide to a stalker
you are a dead man walking, waiting for time to pass
you don't even trust your shadow anymore
he warns you about going too fast
you ignore the rules like sand
you step into the room
you feel the truth

you always knew the truth
you are surrounded by the answers
but the questions are not enough..
you are insufferable..
you are insufferable..

2009-04-09T02:17:00.000-07:00

Devil or the deep sea

Her swanky corset dripping gold, her hair a peachy mess.
She breezed her way to the fireplace, to warm her arms and face.
A stifled whisper broke the ice, a gesture I perceived.
Provoked, evoked, aroused, I lay, entranced in the web she weaved.
The next step I sought, with cautious sense, a quandary I unmasked.
A labyrinth I feared, was in front of me, its answer I was asked.
"I know it all, I'll return too soon", was what I assured me.
Blink of an eye, a moment passed by, indulged I was in she.
Her arms around, we were heaven-bound, in her I was in.
and there we were, drenched in blood, I, the Lie, she, the sin.

2009-03-27T02:34:00.000-07:00

To tame the sand-clock..

whispered tones pass the ear,

orchards of harvest exit left..

the moon tries its best to follow us,

a journey, a duty, a distraction to regret..

the bridges bid bon-voyage,

the gorges hoped we fell through..

these uncharted routes we set foot on,

to seek the elusive xanadu...

to stay longer during the good,

to accelerate through the pains..

was the spirit that we embodied,

to put an end to our banes..

in the quest of a glorious redemption,

we ate up mile after mile..

but the halo ahead was a mirage,

as the chase proved futile..

we realized we had grown older,

and the times had become worse..

"yesterday wasn't so bad after all",

exclaimed I, in my hearse..

2009-02-15T04:57:00.000-08:00

The amputated wings of discretion

why must i do, what i am supposed to,

why, my master lays the rules.

why one and one makes two, i wonder,

are my mates wise men?, or are they ignorant fools?

the fellow sheep scorn at me,

a discordant outlaw, they lambast.

dont gaze at the other side of the river,

this is the line, we mustn't get past.

are we prisoners of mere logic,

are dreams never meant to be true?

why've we stopped listening to hearts,

why're we giving our minds such due?

bury your temptations, all for your good,

with glory he'll respond.

so much for a halcyon tomorrow,

my first steps seem beyond.......

2009-01-16T23:08:00.000-08:00

can we touch, feel, the truth, can we see?
what is reality, is what puzzles me..

Is it
the artist swaying an elegant stroke?,
the beggar living in an eternal hope?..
the moth attracted to the light so bright?,
the pessimist lamenting his wretched plight?..
the dusk waiting for the sun to stay?,
the hummingbird flapping its wings away?..
the master enjoying the whiff of green?,
the priest singing an unending pean?..

what we see is what we believe,
though through a glass darkly, is what we perceive

2008-12-15T09:25:00.000-08:00

green

spiral gunks of crawling snakes,
squeezed copious bouts of sanity..
the tabs had done the boy some good,
sweet smell he whiffed of clarity..

a world he was, where sinners danced,
in unison with saints divine..
anarchy was à la mode,
in these grasslands full of bine..

the realm was stalked, by a gainly mare,
a paradox profound..
"would today and now be memories,
when status quo comes around?"

the monotony of the sound,
as his feet hit the ground..
another journey that never was,
has cost him pound for pound..

2008-12-01T00:23:00.000-08:00

Tradition child, tradition..

2008-11-28T02:52:00.000-08:00

our foes, the vikings, had tamed the sea,
had landed on the shores, forbidden..
for fear, something they knew no more,
in hatred they believed..

Unprecedented, scary, evil.. Mumbai has been torn apart. The country is shocked. In such a tumultuous time, heroes have emerged, some unfortunately achieving martyrdom. I salute the brave policemen who are no more. The deceased who may have killed in the process of voicing their opposition against the evil. I salute the commandos of the NSG who have limited the damage exceptionally.

I digress to ask these questions.
Amidst all this furor of the uptown Taj and The Oberoi, has anyone of us given a damn about the so called 'low-profile' blasts and shootings at the Vile Parle flyover and the CST station?
Does the severity of a hideous come with its price and a monetary baggage?
Is the taxi driver's death in the Vile Parle blast almost a non-issue compared to the dramatic evacuation of a British hotshot??
Are issues like the suspension of the India England test series more relevant for discussion than paying due condolences to the Muslim hawker who lost his life at the CST shootout??

I have no problem with the media being heavily empowered. But nothing fails in this context more than that old cliche 'With great Power, comes great Responsibility'.

We sure would remember the incident, the terrorists as well as the 'high-profile' casualties but let us make it a point to remember the brave martyrs as well as the 'low-profile' casualties..

Update - this and this

2008-11-27T02:03:00.000-08:00

I doff my hat, and nod in agreement..

http://listverse.com/music/top-10-most-overrated-bands/

One of those rare top 10s that I've completely agreed with.. almost

2008-10-22T01:56:00.000-07:00

[Cannibalism of the Objects, 1937 - Dali]

Coated with spite and venom, a fresh tantrum hits the air.
The eerie silence broken, as she screams, "I want more!"
"But hey, you have snatched all I have got,
there is nothing left to pour."
"Nothing can stop me from quenching this thirst,
silly sod, it is you I want to devour."
Biting the hands that oft fed her,
the cannibal guzzled the red wine so sour...

2008-10-13T11:40:00.000-07:00

10 years of being a gooner.
A million frames that have moistened the eyes.
One such frame...

2008-09-20T01:17:00.000-07:00

The Actress

Histrionics overboard, dry eyes try to weep,

The tears couldn't be forced, emotions so deep.

Unfazed by truth, her heart of stone,

laughs at them somber baritones.

Cold streaks of arrogance, a scornful smirk,
poured down her visage, amidst the murk.
Enlightened, contented, the actress spoke,
"I break these shackles, I stamp the yoke".

The top actress in town, was all at sea,
the passionate act interrupted, by her insanity.
Livid, the ruthless ruler decreed,
to slay this thespian, her ilk and breed

"Har har, the whore shall pay for her impudence!",
"Long live the King!" rejoiced the audience
"He who is haughty must pay with his head",
"Chop!", roared the axe, as she lay there dead

A moment of silence, drowned the room,
liberated from the evils, despair and gloom.
The joyous spirit, escaped her remains,
transcended above with mock disdain.

2008-08-11T10:03:00.000-07:00

I don't need to fight
To prove I'm right
I don't need to be forgiven....

2008-05-27T02:40:00.000-07:00

We ate at Mangalore, slept at Udupi, partied at Manipal and dreamt at Surathkal.. These weekends I love..

Cheers to Katti on a new journey - Marriage..

Photos courtesy Swathi and Su

2008-05-06T01:54:00.000-07:00

Lessons
You glance at the clock only to be disappointed. It beams, while you curse yourself for being curious. Sunday is almost gone, the curtains are drawn on another weekend. You recollect, about the good things that happened. You regret, at not having made it better. You fear, at the thought of tomorrow. You wish, to clasp the final few minutes by its hands. You realize, that inevitability is a stronger crusader than dreams...

2008-04-11T01:20:00.001-07:00

A sad day..
A day when Arjun Singh said, "I feel vindicated"

I'm looking forward to this new India, not!

2008-04-06T02:44:00.000-07:00

Whatever happens, I do not want the "Kings XI Punjab" or the "Kolkata Knight Riders" to win the IPL...

2008-03-21T03:17:00.000-07:00

An adaptation of the immortal 'betromax' comedy in a context most of us are familiar with.. One of the funniest forwards that I've received. Cheers to Raju on that...

All in All Project Manager – Koundamani:

Senthil: Anney!

Koundamani: Dai! Romba Naalaiku appuram Intha NHS project delivery-ku poga poguthu!
Latcha roova kedaikum. Athan testing panniturikean.

Senthil: En santhehatha (doubt) Theethu Vainganney!

Koundamani: Ennada?

Senthil: Intha NHS Project eppadi ney Run aaguthu?

Koundamani: Aa! Appdai Vaa! Ithukku thaan Oorukkulla oru All in All Project Manager Venumgrathu!
Adey! Komutti thalaya! Ithukku Peruthaan main application. (Koundamani explains the flow to Senthil)

Senthil: Ithula eppadi ney run aagum. Ponganney!

(Senthil Shift + deletes the project.)

Senthil: Enna anney athukkula Kanama poochu?

Koundamani: ???!!??!!@*

Client: Inga All in All Project Manager yaarunga?

Senthil: Ivaru thaan.

Koundamani: Dai!
Athu Naan thaanga!

Client: Saayangaalam project delivery tharanum! NHS project venum!

Koundamani: NHS Project-A venumaa?

Client: Aaamaanga!

Koundamani: Yean , intha railway reservation,library automation ellam venaama?

Client: Railway reservation a? Ayyo! Athellam venaanga!

Koundamani: Appo! NHS project ellam illa. Kraaapu vettirukka client-ku ellam NHS Project Kudukkurathilla!

Client: ???!!??!!@*

2008-03-19T04:40:00.000-07:00

The word NERD originates from the reverse of the word DRUNK, i.e. KNURD bracketing all those people who wouldn't care a damn to go *boilk* on a fine Sunday morning.

2008-03-18T01:08:00.000-07:00

Llewelyn Moss: What's this guy supposed to be, the ultimate badass?
Carson Wells: No, I wouldn't describe him as that.
Llewelyn Moss: How would you describe him?
Carson Wells: I guess I would say he doesn't have a sense of humor. His name is Chigurh.

-No Country for Old Men

2008-03-05T22:57:00.000-08:00

(pic, courtesy sreekumar)

The triumphant Indian colts at Trinity circle.
circa 2003 and before: cricketers' names and stats was at the proverbial fingertips.
status quo: I could only identify Virat Kohli of the lot.

boys grow up..

2008-02-21T05:14:00.000-08:00

SQL Developer is the fucking most annoying editor that I've ever seen. Don't use it.

I stare at this screen 74 times a day...

2008-02-13T23:29:00.000-08:00

Another year..

Feb 14th and the jury is out again. Every other newspaper running articles on their Anti-Valentine day propaganda. Again a case of sensational (daft) journalism? Affirmative.

I personally am quite happy to embrace this day whole-heartedly. As far as I am concerned, Valentine's Day is just a joyous occasion more than anything else. As with each occasion, an underlying motif is necessary and in this case, it happens to be a day of celebration for lovers. Note that i say 'a day of celebration' rather than 'the day of celebration'. This is because of lame counter-arguments floating around saying that true love needs no specific day for being expressed and all that. The answer to that is Yes, it doesn't. There is no one stopping anyone from expressing their love on any day/night. And there is no extra incentive for people to express that extra bit of love today. However, the point people are missing here is that the day is an Occasion. An occasion as relevant or irrelevant as say a day of fireworks, a day for eating pongal. As much as I love myself, why do I celebrate with people on a (meaningless) day when I was born?

The fact is that it is only human to seek that extra bit of motivation in any possible form to do something relevant. A fest in college needed a banner for people to take notice and rejoice. A festival of fireworks needs a name for people to light the colorful fireworks and rejoice. A motive behind an event is the sole reason for an individual to act. It is.

I am off to celebrate the day with my Valentine. Though it is my debut, I don't think I am fazed or distracted by the opinions around me.

Cheers on a good day!

There is no right or wrong, people just act according to their needs.

-Prof.Isak Borg (Wild Strawberries)

2008-02-12T04:56:00.000-08:00

c'est la vie

I am no underdog, i can't even wag.
I shed all my duties, they're too heavy a tag.

I scorn at discipline, I see no track.
I pity winners, cos there's no looking back.

I don't have an opinion, I disagree with me.
I don't wanna make a difference, for everyone to see.

I hate innovation, I'm indolent to change.
I love a good sleep, where dreams are so strange.

I can't comprehend creativity, its taste is unknown.
I thrive on mistakes, I love to atone.

I am no athlete, unless I'm asked to flee.
With all this i surmise, c'est la vie!

2008-02-11T09:24:00.000-08:00

Trust

The flowers trusted the bees no more,
not wanting to part with sweet nectar in store.
An apathy leaden fragrance they wore,
mercy was denied, as they slammed shut the door.

The reason was unknown, for this fulminant furor,
elders guessed, greed had come to the fore.
Little did they expect, this intense abhor,
crestfallen, defeated, the queen implored.

Starved, parched, they fell on the floor,
tried their best, but pain couldnt be ignored.
Hoping against hope, that normalcy would be restored,
but the wise ones knew it was doom galore.

Amidst this plague, came a pack of four,
called themselves humans, arrived a heavy uproar.
They plucked the weak flowers, who wreathed in the gore,
into 'em delicate petals, these satans tore.

The queen summoned her comrades to settle a score,
'our friends are in trouble, whom we forever adore!',
said she and sped, the air ahead she tore,
the humans were stung, their skins were bored.

They fled into the wild, like never before,
the flowers wept, with gratitude they swore.
They promised the bees, golden days of yore,
the bees knew, trust had been restored.

2008-02-02T09:40:00.000-08:00

I dreamt last night. And surprisingly, i managed to recollect it vividly. I have had dreams often enough, but each of them were washed away by the bright morning sunlight. The only thing left behind was a faint after-taste that just made me realize that I had a dream. But today, it was different.

I dreamt of meeting Atal Behari Vajpayee. I bowed to him and he hugged me. I wept on his shoulders. I continued weeping for a long time. He asked me why i was crying, and i replied by saying 'aapko hi pata hoga, aap mere dadaji hain'.

I very well know that dreams are just a re-narration of events in your life in a different realm, with different characters. Almost like a movie being screened in 2 different theaters in different languages.

Either i was really happy or really sad to be weeping like that. After i wept, i felt cleansed. Tomorrow, something significant is going to happen in my life. To deem it happy or sad, i dont quite know. Maybe dadaji does indeed know..

2008-01-29T23:36:00.000-08:00

Is he insane?

in the wake of the ongoing row in the 'Aussie ki taisi' series, Peter Roebuck has made a name for himself indeed. 'Mr.Roebuck, ARE YOU AN IDIOT?'

post Sydney, the man wrote an article in the Sydney Morning Herald shredding Ponting into bits. In this article, he writes..

"If Cricket Australia cares a fig for the tattered reputation of our national team in our national sport, it will not for a moment longer tolerate the sort of arrogant and abrasive conduct seen from the captain and his senior players over the past few days. Beyond comparison it was the ugliest performance put up by an Australian side for 20 years."

Fine. And then this..
"The only surprising part of it is that the Indians have not packed their bags and gone home. There is no justice for them in this country, nor any manners"

...which seems alright. But then, two days ago, after the ban on Harbhajan was lifted by the tribunal who supposedly caved into the BCCI's threats of abandoning the tour if justice wasn't done, he writes another gem of a column, only this time switching sides to peel the Indians open.

He says,
"If this is the way the Indian board intends to conduct its affairs hereafter, then God help cricket,"

Then senor dishes out a delicious contradiction...
"Brinkmanship or not, threatening to take their bat and ball home in the event of a resented verdict being allowed to stand was an abomination. It sets a dreadful precedent. What price justice now?"

ha ha ha ha ha... lesser said, the better!

2008-01-23T23:09:00.000-08:00

gripe against tripe..

The IBNLive website has always been a disgrace in terms of the quality of news content and dissemination. But of late, most of the articles out there are utter bollocks. like this one: about couples who fight their arse out, live a longer life.

What made me chuckle were those arbitrary figures and ludicrous theories fabricated. The following extract reads

"During the study, 192 couples — differentiated into four categories — were kept under observation for over 17 years. The first category consisted of couples where both partners communicated their anger, the second of couples where the husband showed anger while the wife suppressed it, the third comprised couples where only the wife showed anger and the fourth where both parties suppressed it."

17 years!! 192 couples!! alright, theoretically possible...

But the 4 categories part is worth a WTF?! Has human behavior become so predictably quantifiable that we can now pick a human who expresses his anger and others who don't and expect this damn behavior to last for 17 years?? And picking 384 such people?

Anand: Hey Anandess! Don't you think i belong to the category of anger-suppression?
Anandess: No way, how the hell can you forget those innumerable fights which were obviously initiated by you know who..
Anand: What! you bloody mudslinger..
Anandess: There you go...... yawn

And their findings, they claim:
"It was found that during the period of study death was twice as likely in the fourth group as compared to the chances of other three."

So much for the premier news site in India.

PS: It just gets worse 'cos the news was syndicated via The Daily Mail, the big mommy of all tripe.

The re-vamped NDTV site is worth a try for all those who have the same feelings as me.
Rant over.

2007-12-27T01:43:00.000-08:00

I never thought i would do it. I have just finished reading the first 'FULL' novel in my entire life.

Animal Farm, by George Orwell - An allegorical pointer at the totalitarian world that existed, then. Explicitly anti-totalitarian in its content, ratified by the fact that Orwell admitted that his works post 1935 have by and large been anti-totalitarian given his staunch leftist views. However, I would not go as far as suggest that it lampoons the Soviet way of living.

Next stop, '1984', Orwell. Knowing that somewhere in 1984 it was around this day that something happened.

2007-12-17T07:07:00.000-08:00

Read this recently in 'The Week'
Field Marshal K.M.Cariappa describes the life of the Soldier

At times of war and not before,
God and Soldier we both adore.
But when all is righted,
God is forgotten, and the Soldier slighted.

2007-12-04T02:51:00.000-08:00

Hope, my..

Standing tall, amidst these ruins,
struck by winds and rains..
with grit in the eye, head held high,
the edifice remains..

seasons come, seasons go by,
leaving behind, scars and stains..
the clocks may lie, years kiss goodbye,
the edifice remains..

it seemed so long, since birds perched on,
playing their innocent games..
they no longer fly, in silver skies,
the edifice remains..

warriors haven't returned, from distant miles,
forgotten are their names..
maidens don't cry, their tears washed dry,
the edifice remains..

a symbol of hope, an eternal light,
whose brightness never wanes..
"However hard you try, I just wont die!",
the edifice exclaims..

2007-09-23T23:44:00.000-07:00

Reciprocate...

Into the ravine peeked the tree..
To shrug away the mundane peak tripe..
Saw the wind carrying echoes..
Of journeymen, with seemingly no gripe...

Each time the wind tried to rise..
The heavy burden it wanted to shun..
A current so ruthless, hammered it down..
The wind descended, back to where it had begun...

Why do you do this?, asked the tree..
Isn't it a waste of time?
Why do you return lost voices?
Which aint worth even a dime!

Looking at the hunched tree,
The wind threw a smirk..
The voice you see as trivial,petty..
Is an answer, a ray of hope in this murk..

2007-08-06T02:21:00.000-07:00

2 days, 2 giants of the big screen silenced.. Ingmar Bergman(July 14, 1918 – July 30, 2007) and Michelangelo Antonioni (September 29, 1912 – July 30, 2007). The banal question running around in bloggers' circles: "Would people watch their movies and appreciate them now?" Also running around are the huge accolades and testimonials pouring in honour of these men. And even a brief pseudo-sophisticated analysis of the works by pundits. And, so to speak, a temporary 'pompous' commemoration. All too temporary.

"Am I born in an age hardly conducive to grab the true essence of these maestros' movies? Is there a paradigm-shift, causing an inevitable change in the movie-watcher's mentality to being more practical, street-smart, unimaginative and precise? Is this unequivocal approach playing villain in this whole process of an avant-garde experience? Or is this whole approach itself a new-wave which is eclipsing over the old school of thoughts which I'm so comfortable with. Either way, I'm a misfit failing to adapt.. or incapable of!"

Suits me!

A tribute to an artist, who made me love pain, and accept it... quite effortlessly

RIP,
Shine on!

2007-07-12T09:37:00.000-07:00

for the first time in my entire life, i realized anger is bad...
hoping that it is the last time i'd have to realize or re-realize...
thanks sunu...

2007-06-28T04:53:00.000-07:00

an unappealing 50k line script .. amazing how uninteresting things form the perfect background
for nostalgic recollections...the memories all vivid in the backdrop of fading numbers on screen.. everything that i possessed, now they are gone... dream on..

Scene 1: A picture of sriram and me performing the sacred 'samidadhanam', a ritual which succeeds the sandhya vandanam ritual, in front of rama vadhiyar, sriram's grandpa. The zeal in my eye is evident although i have absolutely no knowledge on the whats-what of these shlokas. Never knew that peace of mind is something which someone can actually crave for.. circa 1995

Scene 2: A picture of me running outside my house to trip on someone's footwear and land on a railing edge. Me being taken to Dr.Raghu's house. 5 stitches.. The pain in my voice is evident. Never knew pain would take an altogether different form today. circa 1994

Scene 3: Me and our team getting walloped by vijay's team in a local cricket match. nicky and me arguing on what went wrong that day. Judy telling me not to tear the team badges that we had carefully made esp for the match. The passion in my eye is worth a look. Never knew passion would go out of fashion someday. circa 1994.

2007-06-22T02:40:00.000-07:00

-Atavistic vestiges after the rain (Dali, 1934)

all the world is circular,

you get back what you have thrown...
said the dad to his young nipper,
we have atavists of our own...
i dont agree father, said joey,
you cant conclude from mere bone...
you can very well bet on it my son,
look at the heart as hard as stone...

2007-06-21T03:02:00.000-07:00

shadows of dawn

silver robe, grass swept gently,
gleaming drops of honey dew land...
the whiskers of the kitten fondle her feet,
as the night queen descends on the sand...

the dust of the war just settled,
the eerie silence and the calm..
the moonchild lends a hand,
to save the ones from the dreaded storm..

the sweet wave of the wind blows,
pampering the rustling leaves...
softly, they whisper secrets,
of the lost lives, the carnage and the peace..

the world is a lonely place and im all alone,
the warm corner i seek, to be on my own..
memories of my master, are as hard as a stone,
the faithful steed whines, in a melancholic tone..

Cold blood on her cheeks,
the orphaned girl grieves...
someday the dirt will be below me,
the beanstalk believes..

Milky white, fragrant and surreal,
the tired earth goes to sleep...
knowing very well, at dawn,
is an all familiar tale, a painful journey so deep...

an all familiar tale, a painful journey so deep...

2007-06-19T01:18:00.000-07:00

Gimme the beat boys,
and free my soul....
i wanna get lost in your rock and roll,
and drift away.....

2007-06-04T01:53:00.000-07:00

How it was,

While in Montreal on the Animals tour, a fan kept screaming and letting off fireworks during the acoustic "Pigs On The Wing Part II." The fan, obviously distracting the band, was making Roger increasingly irritable. When the fan started climbing up the fishnet that separates the band from the crowd Roger spat in his face. Later that night at the hotel he felt bad for what he done. He realized in order to perform he had to isolate himself from the crowd. What he envisioned himself behind was a wall. The rest is history.

2007-05-29T22:09:00.000-07:00

Eye openers...

A good essay
Football; And beyond

2007-05-21T01:54:00.000-07:00

"...it seems to me that the individual today stands at a crossroad, faced with the choice of whether to pursue the new technology and the endless multiplication of material goods, or to seek out a way that will lead to spiritual responsibility, a way that ultimately might mean not only his personal salvation but also the saving of society at large; in other words, turn to God."

- Andrei Tarkovsky, 1986

Quite ironical that what the individual sees in front of him is not really a crossroad, it is just a multi way mirage meant to confuse the individual with tempting alternatives. Whatever choice the mind wants to make, in reality there is only a single path of materialistic glory that the individual (is forced to) takes, the alternatives are just thorns which prick the individual on grounds of emptiness and guilt. The thorns are meant only to constantly haunt the individual, posing questions like "if only?" and "what if?" I dont see any other destination that the other paths lead to.

Everyone wants to do good.
Everyone wants to be good.
Few are good.

Inevitability is a stronger crusader than dreams.

We believe, we'll catch the rainbow..

2007-04-29T01:43:00.001-07:00

there she was...
her eyes glued on sweet memories...
the world around, seemed to be folding...
nothing was enough though to stir up deep reveries..

there he was...
drops of loneliness dripping off his cheek..
awaiting a response from his beloved...
through the tainted glass he saw, a future seemingly bleak...

there she said...
what am i? without the very you!
the only thing that keeps me alive now is..
a hope you radiate so new...

there he said...
look here girl, right into my eyes..
lets lose our minds, no hurry...
we're chasing blue, chasing blue skies...

2007-04-26T09:49:00.000-07:00

blitzkrieg bop....

They're forming in straight line
They're going through a tight wind
The kids are losing their minds
The Blitzkrieg Bop
They're piling in the back seat
They're generating steam heat
Pulsating to the back beat
The Blitzkrieg Bop

Hey ho, let's go Hey ho, let's go
Hey ho, let's go Hey ho, let's go

Shoot'em in the back now
What they want, I don't know
They're all reved up and ready to go....

-The Ramones.

2007-04-23T05:05:00.000-07:00

for those who really give a damn...

http://www.gabrielopenshaw.com/EthiopiaMursi.html

2007-04-20T05:25:00.000-07:00

david lloyd..
main man...
http://sport.guardian.co.uk/smalltalk/story/0,,1851504,00.html
bumble at his best

2007-04-19T09:44:00.000-07:00

lil' johhny did play....

he had just tried to sort out the code that was behaving wickedly with him.. both he and his boss tried to set it right.. however both knew that however hard they tried, it wasn't gonna happen that day.. it was just that sort of a day.. so a quick goodbye exchanged, he ambled down the stairs from the 8th to the ground.. and then out on to mg road to become a part of a flourishing culture.. a waitingatasignal cult.. he drove along mg road and on seeing the brigade road traffic signal tempting him with its green form, he clasped the accelerator and raised it outta anticipation.. he felt his cellphone vibrate in his pocket... ignoring it he moved ahead like a man on a mission...as he was close to the line of control, the hideous chameleon of a signal changed color and became red even without its customary intermediate orange... hands on brakes.. all might all bite used.. the bike stopped like an insane horse tranquillized mercilessly.. 150 seconds the count read.. damn it he said.. another sick journey laced with a million stops.. involuntarily his hands went to his pocket and he verified whether it was a life threatening call or message... it was a message... 'Dont forget to recharge!' it read.. hmmm, yeah he thought.... moments later, the signal changed color and twas time to step on the gas.. in a jiffy it was cubbon road... and then came the minsk square signal.. the air temperature suddenly dropped and without even the slightest warning it started pouring!! he could see few two wheelers getting scattered under trees and few other brave equipped ones donning the monsoon wear set for the battle ahead.. he had a choice.. on one hand twas his mother holding a ruler in her hand asking him to evacuate the road and move under a shelter.. on the other hand, was the accelerator all charged up waiting to be pounded... the next thing he could remember was that he was at the high point signal at the end of raj bhavan road a sole two wheeler sorrounded by mighty four wheelers.. dripping wet, head to toe.. the uneasy water drops seeping through fabric and causing that eerie chill as it touched the skin.. he removed his wrist watch and shoved it into his pocket and checked whether the cellphone was cosy.. it would manage to find a dry spot he thought and pulled his visor down and sped across the golf course at 65 kmph.. the rain was relentless and had reached a peak.. a peak which only seemed to be rising he felt.. through the visor all he could see was spots of light looking beautiful as it dispersed throgh the raindrops hitting his visor...one spot appeared abnormally huge and before he could analyze its size, he grabbed hold of his brake and just about managed to survive.. just about... abuses exchanged, he kept moving.. the rain kept throwing its kitchen sink at him and he kept piercing through it.. along came guttahalli and vyalikaval... as he approached sampige road.. he was a wet guy.. he threw his bike into the parking lot.. disembarked and went straight to the store and asked for a recharge card.. he was panting... incoherent... uninterested in talking.. mohan uncle at the shop was stunned and asked.. 'why dya want a recharge that badly in the rain man? you couldve taken it tomorrow right..' he gave mohan uncle a dry smirk, and replied.. 'give it to me fast uncle, my granny is waiting at home with rava idlis!'.. and then he disappeared into the crowd like the river into the sea... nothing official about it.. nothing factual either

2007-04-18T22:38:00.000-07:00

me: dude, we went to this tibetian restaurant yesterday da...
he: cool man.. wat food dya generally get there...
me: hmm.. not the conventional things da.. i mean.. was a bit weird.. but pretty nice..
he: oh okie.. but wat was the food like da?
me: it was all liquidy dude.. everything was a soup...
he: heh heh, the world itself is a soup da...
me: yeah.. and we all are in it..

2007-04-17T09:00:00.000-07:00

there are somethings in life which cannot be bound by the walls of explanation or logic.. such things cannot be ascribed a measurable value of greatness, they simply have to be felt and preserved in the pure chambers of the soul, like delicate morning dew housed on a soft petal...

And some people are gifted with divine vocal cords they say, and few others the power to feel enchanted by the ethereal melodies arising out of them.. Case in point: Clio Karabelias, Harpist, singer.. Clio and Hamid khan, a sitar maestro himself, cast a spell on the listeners at the arena during a performance at the Fireflies festival of sacred music.. I had no clue what she was singing but my senses seemed to resonate and focus at a precise spot in a heavenly realm, a feeling which im sure is second to none.. unfathomable.. a goddess holding a magic wand and conjuring up ribbons of happiness effortlessly.. making the audience do things what they could never have imagined to do.. glide in the sea of pristine tranquility... words cannot do justice to the work of Clio Karabelias and Ustad Hameed Khan.. I'm blessed, to say the very least...

Amen

2007-04-10T11:23:00.000-07:00

The moment they had been waiting for from so long had almost arrived... General Heinrich and his protege Jurgen of the Bundes-truppe 'sechzehn' looked at the grasslands around.. The sweet smell of victory was in the air and the dream of conquering kamerun had materialised.. Jurgen raised the bottle of whiskey expecting a loud victorious war cry from his general.. Heinrich however, was taking a look at the large expanses in front of him scattered with corpses and intermittently garnished with the mighty Savannah grasses holding the corpses secure like an anchor... Drops of water flowed down his cheeks and Jurgen after staying close to the general for as long as he could remember, could easily identify the droplets to be tears, not beads of sweat pounding down in the sweltering heat... The general dint move a whisker... He stood there motionless and said,
"For the last 5 years, my ruthless passion had overwritten all the compassion inside.. The struggle for this day had been my only motive, my only purpose of existence... And here I am on the threshold of glory, I see nothing but the empty me amidst these corpses begging for someone to lend some meaning to my cruel past hollow present and the ominous future.. The
whole world has ceased to exist in a split second... My little daughter who passed away last month is playing with these dead children and laughing at me and my petty ambitions.. She has never laughed like this before Jurgen, she's never seemed so happy... Aaaargh!! A huge void seems to be created inside me dear brother, which seems infinitely large and cancerous.. The void is eating away all those cells of mine which were thirsty to taste those drops of blood and fine whiskey which you hold aloft, oh Lucifer! ..."
He bent down, knelt on his feet, and buried his face in the dry sand looking for a quiet place to mute his daughter's scornful laughter and the kids' chattering and gleeful celebration..
Jurgen descended down the tank, hurled the bottle down and rushed to comfort his godfather.. The spilt whiskey lay still on the sand like an orphan with the even the all-benevolent earth refusing to grant it any refuge.. Heinrich screamed with all his might, grabbed Jurgen's magnum and shot himself right on his neck.. "This is where the cancer seems to be now, Jurgen", he exclaimed as he writhed in pain.. Within no time Heinrich rolled down the grassland to be a part of the carnival happening below..
Jurgen, looked up in a state of disbelief and saw his once-ruthless general playing with his daughter like a 3 year old free from any quantifiable glory.. The mighty savannah grasses danced along and so did the whole of the kamerun tribe...

2007-03-30T01:14:00.001-07:00

As far as my eyes can see
There are Shadows approaching me
And to those I left behind
I wanted you to Know
You've always shared my deepest thoughts
You follow where I go

And oh when I'm old and wise
Bitter words mean little to me
Autumn Winds will blow right through me
And someday in the mist of time
When they asked me if I knew you
I'd smile and say you were a friend of mine
And the sadness would be Lifted from my eyes
Oh when I'm old and wise

As far as my Eyes can see
There are shadows surrounding me
And to those I leave behind
I want you all to know
You've always Shared my darkest hours
I'll miss you when I go

And oh, when I'm old and wise
Heavy words that tossed and blew me
Like Autumn winds that will blow right through me
And someday in the mist of time
When they ask you if you knew me
Remember that You were a frined of mine
As the final curtain falls before my eyes
Oh when I'm Old and wise

As far as my eyes can see

-Old and Wise (Alan Parsons' project)

2007-03-22T09:43:00.000-07:00

Cries and whispers (Viskningar och rop)...

I remember having seen this movie way back in the seventh semester.. i dont think it made such an impact then.. yes, it was a painful movie but then i did not dwell much into the underlying layers...for the next 2 years, i did not associate Viskningar och rop with a typical 'bergmanesque' movie.. smultronstallet and persona came along the way and they made were mammoth movies which hit me real hard.. but today, i just picked up a review of c&w by James Berardinelli.. the review and trust me when i say a one page review alone pummeled me so hard...all those 'insignificant' details bout the movie which i thought had forgotten appeared in front of me in such a vivid manner.. i just cant wait to watch the movie again... damn.. i then realize ive misplaced the dvd... f*** f*** f*** f*** f***!!!!

Anyway.. few awesome things bout the review...

Shakespeare referred to death as "the undiscovered country, from whose bourn no traveler returns".

Death is gradual

The process of dying is not only the last stage we go through in this life, but often the most traumatic. For most people, death takes time. To be sure, there are some who expire suddenly and unexpectedly, but, in general, death is gradual. And, during those last days, the dying individual will experience moments of great clarity revealing transcendent beauty, and times of bleakness staring into the black maw of eternity. Ultimately, no matter how many friends and loved ones may be by our side, the last step must be undertaken alone. "To be or not to be?" is only an ephemeral question. The final answer is unalterable.

There is a fine tradition in American cinema that the victims of terminal diseases become increasingly beautiful and serene as the moment of their expiration approaches. Bergman offers no such false comfort here. Those who have seen a loved one die of cancer know that it is a gut-wrenchingly painful experience.

Bergman is quoted as saying, "All my films can be thought of in terms of black and white except for Cries and Whispers. In the screenplay, it says that red represents for me the interior of the soul."

In order to understand why Cries and Whispers is a great film, it must be experienced, not merely watched.

The complete review can be read here and here.

2007-03-19T10:26:00.001-07:00

He thought he was God, but for once he felt a human chill run down his spine...

A visual feast.. layers of emotions wrapped one over the other... characters displayed with unreal precision.. the spartan nonchalance vs the persian tyranny.. the spartan helmets, Lyonadis's swagger, Xerxes's eyes, the blood, the persian whores, the war elephants, the love making, the wolf's eyes, the darkness, Ephialtes, the differential lighting, the corpses, the captain's bloodthirst on astinos's death, the creatures, the ephors, the oracle, the persian navy, the sea gulls, the council, the use of time-dilation, the spears, the arrows, the shields... treat to the eye.. not for the faint hearted.. u can never shed a tear on this one....

Prepare for Glory!
HO HO HO!!!

2007-03-08T04:50:00.000-08:00

when the ones who matter fail to spot you...
and a deafening silence looms..
when the wind seems to ignore you...
you sit there marooned...

a million thoughts flood the inside...
countering the loneliness around...
painful tears, your sole companions..
consoling you to a realm beyond...

beads of water flow down from the eye...
trudging weary on the barren cheeks...
gently hold a bead on your palms...
it shines like a silvery streak...

wanting an explanation from the almighty..
you look above to the blood red sky...
a shrill voice shatters the silence..
'he who values his tears, is no different than I'

2007-03-07T02:22:00.000-08:00

oh wait a minute!

2007-02-28T08:28:00.000-08:00

there's this video of the beatles track 'while my guitar gently weeps' featuring clapton on the leads.. somewhere in between when clapton goes hallelujah with a solo, this happens.. george harrison watches clapton doing wicked chords and gives him a combo of 'bastard, why did ya steal my girlfriend?' and 'jesus.. how do you do those cords, wanker' looks..
clapton with that usual swagger of his gives back a 'tsk tsk tsk' look... the look in the eye of G Har is awefuggingsome...

a moment quite priceless..

To ya,
Pattie..
with love

2007-02-26T07:48:00.000-08:00

my dad took me to his room and switched on the light.. twas' my convo photograph framed.. he had done it without telling me.. he hugged me and said.. "I'm proud of u, I wouldn't mind another one".. i beamed.. i owe the entire exercise of the degree earning to him.. and more.. he felt a proud man.. made me realize that i owed him another degree.. that's the least that i can do for him.. in all these years, this is one of the few times that i remember when he has asked me something..

tears..

Update: The above episode sparked off a catastrophic outburst later that night.. Embarrassing to say the least.. :(

2007-02-25T00:07:00.000-08:00

Conned 'vocation'

glued to the seat, at the junkie workplace..
the day had arrived, to turn the page..
A new destination beckoned, the boredom had overgrown..
the journey was much needed, was tired of being alone..

stepped out of the bus, a touch expectant..
old memories flashed by, with nostalgic intent..
i was where i wanted to be, welcomed by the zone..
with all the things around me, hell I'd never be alone..

the crowd around me, stretched miles far..
the noise in the air, sounded like cries from a war..
the road looked full, the atmosphere full blown..
stifled amidst all this, i suddenly wanted to be alone..

the sea looked gorgeous, the sand never ended..
the waves lashed furious, the rocks defended..
the beach looked empty, the atmosphere unknown...
in the midst of nowhere, i realized i loved to be alone..

2007-02-21T02:01:00.000-08:00

Well once upon a time in 1776 Thomas Jefferson signed his name on a piece of marijuana, and this document was a symbol of freedom and of liberty, at least for the rich, white, gentry. And time marched along, this plant that I referred to has been used for everything from medicine to the American flag. And now it seems to me that somewhere along the way things got messed up, yeah, messed up, for marijuana.

A gift of God to my brothers and me. Oh marijuana the government wants to test me when I pee.

Well some say a conspiracy, ? chemical and ? paper industries combined to kill the competition, government hysteria, monopoly, and conflict of interest, with total impunity. Yeah, so, if you don't buy the conspiracy, just look at the reality that your tax dollars go to spray poison on the fields of a farmer in South America. And as an added bonus, your neighbor might be the proud recipient of that poison weed.

Oh marijuana the government wants to test me when I pee. Oh marijuana gift of God to my brothers and me. Oh marijuana you cant legislate your own morality. Oh marijuana the government wants to test me when I pee.

Free from madness, chronic sadness, what is the half-life of bad propaganda? The policies fail, denied bail, you made him a demon now pay for his trip to prison. Hard to promote the status quote, but what is the shelf life of bad legislation? The hypocrite smirks, its a moral disgrace as he reads from the law that was written about the same time that he had his last original thoughts. Men said he was dying and the nausea and the pain left him wasting away and unable to keep a meal down. So he tried everything prescription could obtain but to no avail. The side effects were worse than the pain. So now he breaks the law to use the one thing that seems to help him out. But the people say, Oh hes just getting high. Not to change the subject but, didn't you ever wonder why getting highs a crime. Yeah a crime.

Oh marijuana gift of God to my brothers and me. Oh marijuana now the government wants to test me when I pee. Oh marijuana the government wants to test me when I pee. Oh marijuana the government wants to test me when I pee. Oh marijuana the government wants to test me when I pee. Oh marijuana(this is the part where everybody would sing along) when I pee.

-Terry Anastasio (Phish)

2007-02-20T07:33:00.000-08:00

..he had always settled for mediocrity.. life seemed to have given him all that he wished for.. laying down low expectations meant that he was satisfied more often than not.. and whenever things exceeded expectations, it was a pleasant surprise.. that had been his mantra.. the downside was, he wasn't trained to take failures.. life had not taught him to handle defeats.. every little thing that happened to him was treated as victory.. call it innocence or naivety, he was confined to his own sweet cage of happiness... circumstances however played with him and lured him to the road of expectations.. the road which needed a hard heart and courage... ignorant of this, the man took a detour and the path seemed smooth.. every step took him to uncharted territory, showering loads of happiness and trouncing the mediocrity in him.. after this long.. the joyride seemed to be lasting forever and the bar of expectations was continuously being raised... he regretted at not having chosen this path earlier.. days later, the joyride had reached a point where it needed that little bit more 'extra' in order to keep it going.. a wee bit of courage would've done the trick... quite sad, it was never there... he realized he had been gliding with the wind all this while and when the situation demanded a bit of fuel with the destination within touching distance, he felt like an impotent twat.. the fall to the ground from dizzy heights was battering.. the crash landing wrecked him.. he could not call the wind, 'wicked' for letting him down.. he had not earned the rights to do so cos he had not even given it a shot... all he could do is get up, fake a pain-concealing smile to his mom, lie on the lap of his granny craving for some temporary solace... the once humble he had been cruelly humbled... all lost, he just headed into the shower.. to shed those tears which would be no different from the water inside ... he had been stoned.. stoned and washed...the wind ironically seemed to be blowing harder... the tears though, never seemed to dry..

2007-02-19T09:16:00.001-08:00

Rwandans.. humans too..

2007-02-18T06:55:00.000-08:00

CTR's benne masala dose
Janatha's baadam halwa
Asha sweets' rasmalai
Gullu's chaat
The Fast food's parotha
Veena stores' idly vada
Amruth's ice creams
Bhagyalaxmi stores' gulkand

..Malleshwaram and suttha muttha... el dorado.. peace...

2007-02-16T01:26:00.000-08:00

the whole concept of money making is really weird.. the more u get into making money, the lesser is the probability that u are gonna spend it.. i'm sure that if any millionaire is posed with this age old question of 'what are u gonna do with all this money??', he is bound to present to you a totally unconvincing answer.. something like 'it is all for me, my family' or something equally inane..what bewilders me is not the fact that there are hajaar ppl who wanna make money, but the fact that all those who have enough money dont seem to stop the process... most of the blokes in this world seem to be complaining about a lack of money but dont seem to spend the money that they have already currently got.. i dont have a problem with people who complain because they genuinely do not have any bucks to spend.. but then, the remaining ppl complaining in spite of having prosperous coffers doesn seem right to me.. 'greed' seems to be the most appropriate word that i can attribute to such a situation.. something like stocking up all the curd in the world by working hard in the peak summers but not using it to quench your thirst and then realizing in winter that the curd has gone sour and even if it had not, it wouldnt have mattered.. why dont we just live for today as we dream of and stop bothering too much about tomorrow.. large amounts of idle money according to me is no different from a deadly virus which ruins your current happiness.. the bottom line in life is of course peace of mind..or wait.. why cant making money be that 'peace of mind' for a few???

I dont mind stealing bread
From the mouths of decadence
But I cant feed on the powerless
When my cups already overfilled
But its on the table
The fire is cooking
And theyre farming babies
While the slaves are working
The blood is on the table
And their mouths are choking
But Im growing hungry

2007-02-15T20:53:00.001-08:00

When people win the Tour-de France, they don't celebrate..
They ask themselves, Why did they have to do it?
-Lance Armstrong

All I did when I read this quote in 'It is not all about the bike' (Armstrong's autobiography) was comprehend it to be an arbit, just another glam quote.. the kind of quotes which ppl write in their book to make it sell.. the 'sensation' creating kind...

Destination: Mullainagiri.. (Chikmagalur district, around 251 kms from Bangalore).
Date: 9th Feb
A sudden rush of blood to get out of bangalore for the weekend.. No plans made.. Quick decisions taken and there we were amidst the beautiful hills at seethalangiri.. The starting point of the trek... The trek to mullainagiri was awesome.. 3-4 kms of moderately challenging terrain although the enthusiasts could carve out their own route instead of the one already existing.. That said, we were there on the top of the best that karnataka could offer and it was an amazing feeling.. Little did we know wat we had in store for us a bit later.. next stop we thought should be another moderate trek to tower that we could see from mullainagiri.. It looked pretty close from where we were standing.. but so did the sun..we had estimated it to be around 3-4 kms away.. 5 kms max.. the journey began post lunch...lots of energy during the initial part of the trek.. we decided to do it in record time and set ourselves a deadline of 2 hours to do so..plus we had this idea of not touching the road at all cos we felt that the 'real' men wouldn't care to walk on the road.. 'Only Mountains it shall be!!!' was what was decided...the terrain was slightly harder but on the whole was manageable..a pal was repeatedly telling us as we crossed one hill at a time that the tower was not getting any closer.. in fact he had a feeling that it was being pushed farther and farther.. seemed like god was playing a game with three loners just like how he derived sadistic pleasure in teasing weary travelers in the sahara with the bait of a beautiful mirage.. nevertheless, we continued on our journey knowing that we were almost there and it is quite natural to crib about the target in the course of approaching it.. that was the motivation for us.. we went on and on.. and suddenly over we were there down a cliff when we noticed that the tower had gone missing.. the mirage had gone... :) or was it there in the first place? or had we come on a wrong path..there was no path quite frankly and all we did was use our common sense and some basic skills of directions ..but then the tower had gone.. we then decided to move on and not fret cos the tower was just behind the cliff that we were about to climb now..that gave us new hope.. we were almost there.. which made us climb the cliff all the more quicker.. but then once we had scaled the peak.. we were both happy and sad.. happy because the tower had reappeared.. sad because it seemed to be the same distance from us as it was when we started the trek.. though we were all mentally strong, our legs were giving up and we had to summon our last ounces of energy..the irony was.. the road that we had disrespected till now was now way behind us and was mocking at us, calling us losers.. no way of turning behind, even if we wanted to.. Ha ha.. we felt like conned maggots.. no other way other than move forward.. suddenly the pain started showing.. the heads began to drop.. the happy trip was suddenly turning sour... it seemed like an ordeal, an endurance test now.. we trudged on only to be bothered by countless cramps, tiredness, torturous uphills and all the possible things which could pull us down.. After numerous breaks, we did manage it to the tower and yeah.... that quote above did seem true.. very true...

2007-01-25T09:30:00.000-08:00

Being frank is not saying whatever you think.. it is thinking bout whatever you wanna say..

A simple thought... feels nice and true

2007-01-20T08:33:00.000-08:00

Me: Oh Lord help me...
God: yawn...yeah go on...
Me: Ive got this one wish..could you make me happy till I die?
God: Sure pal..Wish granted..
Me: Thanks mate!
God: my pleasure.. happy??
Me: Yeah baby..
God: (removing a dagger and slicing my throat) swoosh...
Me: ....wtf??....

2007-01-15T21:09:00.000-08:00

"There is no right or wrong, people just act according to their needs..."
-Isak Borg (Smultronstället)

2007-01-14T07:56:00.000-08:00

A joke from the keislowski's three colors trilogy 'Bleu'.. makes me laugh each time I see it.. it roughly goes like this..

There is this woman who gets paranoid and starts coughing loudly each time she visits a doc. The doc once gave her some pills and after consuming em she asked the doc whether they were pills to stop coughing.. the doc replied that the pills were the strongest laxatives in town, sneered at the patient and said "Now try coughing!"

2007-01-12T22:58:00.000-08:00

discovered a beautiful poem penned by peter sinfield...No description required.. here it goes...

Moonchild
Call her moonchild
Dancing in the shallows of a river
Lovely moonchild
Dreaming in the shadow
Of the willow.

Talking to the trees of the
Cobweb strange
Sleeping on the steps of a fountain
Waving silver wands to the
Night-birds song
Waiting for the sun on the mountain.

Shes a moonchild
Gathering the flowers in a garden.
Lovely moonchild
Drifting on the echoes of the hours.

Sailing on the wind
In a milk white gown
Dropping circle stones on a sun dial
Playing hide and seek
With the ghosts of dawn
Waiting for a smile from a sun child.

2006-09-18T09:06:00.000-07:00

the devil in me head has disappeared.. at least temporarily.. so whilst the sky is blue , a quick composition for sweet memories and posterity.. the name is Mark Cullen.. president Exeter group..around 2:30 in the afternoon.. conference room..awesome talk.. bowled over by him..some ppl simply dont cease to amaze me.. very few of them i must confess.. this dude was up there... a man barely 40 yrs old, the look in his eyes, the tone of his voice..confidence personified.. phew phew phew.. want to get there.. lets see if mother nature agrees.. or maybe fate has something else in store.. back to some queensryche now... no more Amon Duul.. surprised?? me surprised too ;).. so is my mom.. she can sleep peacefully from now on.. no more kraut.. for tonight at least.. god bless the world...

for a change
Vetrivel muruganukku, Haro Hara!!!

2006-09-10T22:07:00.000-07:00

good sin, bad sin..

In the head, a thorn resides..
invisible on the outside, blatant on the inside..
the thorn that pricks the bubbles of sweet dreams..
drives you mad, every guilt laden moment it seems..

for those who think good is good..
you are sadly mistaken..
lets stop playin 'Monsieur christ'..
lets bring in 'el satan'..

balls to all yo' who think..
that a person is measured by his deeds..
for the truth is that..
there is no right or wrong.. people just act according to their needs..

2006-08-18T23:51:00.000-07:00

date 18th Aug. MG Road
Was busy doin my assignments, when a friend o mine skyped me. Details of the message apart, she had her skype icon as 'Pingu' the penguin...Instead of replyin back, i was lost in the thoughts of good ol days when pingu used to be screened on DD2, if i am not wrong.. And as i am typin this post, I am recollecting those days..A flurry of thoughts cross my mind, memories that i seem to vividly remember..twas like all these things happened yesterday.. All those cartoons on cartoon network: popeye and scooby doo that i used to never miss before hurryin to schoool, those petty quarrels with my sister for the 'young world' supplement on saturdays.. those short breaks and lunch breaks in school when we used to eat our lunch so fast so that we could play cricket on the terrace a lil more..i remembered my automan too, a guy called 'Madhi', the guy wo still remembers me each time i see him near his house.. also the day i cried when my best friend Sagar left school in class VII.. All those cricket coaching camps that i used to enthusiatstically ditch midway each summer holiday, those good ol days when my dad used to take my sis and me to either cubbon park or lal bagh each weekend..those days of love those days of hatred, those days of joy those days of sorrow, those days when i used to laugh and those i would sob... however cliched this post may sound, i have to admit it that it has bought a tear in my eye as i type this..all those streets in malleshwaram that i have walked on... glad i am still in malleshwaram.. it is where i wanna be for now and years to come..I could go on and on but let us continue with our work and save memories to be unravelled in small installments...

18 and life You got it
18 and life you know
Your crime is time and it's
18 and life to go

-18 and life(Skidrow)

Amen

2006-06-23T22:21:00.000-07:00

sans défaut

Looking through the eyes of my mirror
I saw myself that much more clearer
The real perspective now I could see
I was as flawed as flawed can be

In a persuit of glory, happiness and fame
I put on a mask, in order to win every game
I continued to bask, in the glory of all my wins
But inside me grew a evil tree, bearing the fruit of my sins

Those guilt laden eyes those remorseful tears
Those scarred cheeks summed up my worst fears
I was so conned all these days, I just wasn't me
I realised I was so flawed, as flawed as flawed can be

A hand came out of the mirror, my mask it ripped
It shattered all my ego, my wings it clipped
I soon realized that I had missed the real plot
That I'd rather be hated for who i am, than be loved for who i am not

2006-06-23T22:19:00.000-07:00

Premature E-jaculation

1st June 2006...
Around 21 and a half years after I entered this Mortal realm, I was staring on the outside contemplating at the wierd yet crucial juncture that i had reached in my life... i had just completed my engineering course and the college had handed me over a neat job...The picture did seem really rosy initially but now something was really bothering me.. A worm like irritant was pecking away in the ante chamber of my brain.. A question kept flashing in front of my eyes each time i wanted to enjoy and feel the beauty of the new phase that i supposedly had entered in my life... the phase of 'Responsibilities','Adulthood' to a layman... "WAS I READY TO TAKE THE NEXT BIG STEP??".. On the outside it was all so happy and gay.. ya, no more gruelling exams, no more ardurous courses to complete, no more college, no more shackles, no more cages to trap me... I was a freebird allright.. but the point that i missed all these days was that while i was choking inside my cosy cage, I mistook the outside to be a utopia, a heaven for wound up,restless, fervent souls like me to unleash their creativity and become heroes overnight... little did i realize that this aint a sooraj barjatiya movie... A freebird i might be but soon i am gonna be exposed to the typhoons of the outside.. at least i was safe in the cage that stifled me... It saved my ass allright and it fed me on time everyday... I was thinking to myself how i would survive the cruel wide world waiting to devour me at any instant.. i was so weakly armed with mere mere mere basic technical residues that had adhered when i was busily draining out the real knowledge after each of those countless exams, so that i could make room for insignificant fancy shit to reside in my brain.. It seems so late now that i realize the value of the fluid that I spilt out... Well i was entering the battlefield confidently with a penknife... A long journey ahead i know but what can i do...
All i am doin is penning down my miseries thinking that it is indeed gonna solve my problem... should i laugh at myself, should i pity me or should i be ashamed.....

Sweet child in time you'll see the line
The line that's drawn between the good and the bad
See the blind man shooting at the world
Bullets flying taking toll
If you've been bad, Lord I bet you have
And you've not been hit by flying lead
You'd better close your eyes and bow your head
And wait for the ricochet
-Ian Gilan (Deep Purple)

2006-05-10T09:43:00.000-07:00

"Speak out; Jus hope noone's listenin..."

Frustrated n hurt by all the filth, competition n greed around, the 'righteous' dude cribs bout his misfortunes and ill-luck which has been constantly devouring him throughout his life.. All that is left in him is a pair of vocal cords, the satanic half of the cerebrum, a pair of forelimbs tuned to typing crap and of course all those numerous senses using which the dude can only look at the fuckin shit around him.. He is the secret loser in the truest sense.. but all that we can do is get in sync with him and enjoy the blogs he composes.. So let us all say in unison..

"Mother Nature is a Whore!"

The felonious unitarian
Amen

2006-05-08T01:37:00.000-07:00

AIM FOR THE MOON, GET STRANDED ON TOP OF A PALM TREE!!

Lookin back at the 4 years that have just slipped out of my hands into the 'never will come back' category, a guilt laden cloud erupts over me reminding me of all those ambitious proimises and aspirations that i had carried, on arriving at the doorstep of my college... each one of those remaining unfulfilled during this entire tenure defined by my sloth-like persona, an idle mind devoid of any ideas, abbysymal levels of enthusiasm and to top it all: a no-regret carefree attitude. Just the ideal recipe to engineer one of the strongest structures ever: 'THE GREAT WALL OF NOTHING'. The rain pouring over me pushes me into the window of introspection, the last thing i would wish to do after 4 years of misery. I begin looking for alibis which could save me in justifying this period of dormancy, the 'BLACK DEATH'. I put an easy blame on this blessed system, the curriculum, the numerous result oriented exams, the influence of peer, lack of inspirational figures,be it teachers or friends or any other dude.. But What I dont realize is that in doin so

I AM JUST TRYING TO SPIT AT THE MOON, IN TURN GETTING SPAT AT MYSELF!!

2006-04-30T23:44:00.000-07:00

RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE

humming in the dark alleys of my ear, layne keeps conveying a subtle message that i haven't been able to understand.. it goes like this

Be what you wanna be, see what you wanna see
Been what you wanna be, I dont like what i see...
Like the coldest winter chill,
Heaven beside you and hell within...

what i really dont understand is that there was nothing called myself until now.. the figure called myself has to be constructed from the very atomic level and will only be defined based on what i will be sometime from now.. until now this word called myself has only been a plan, a template, an unseen set of routines which has been fed in with all the necessary ingredients or inputs just about ready to be pushed into the phase of execution.. all the so called efforts of the previous toil filled years are supposed to bear fruits now and things are supposed to fall into place from now.. or thats what people think..
The pundits believe that the human system is so analogous to a machine.. plan it meticulously from age 1 to 5, start analysing and designing the components from age 5 to 20, continuously keep testing the system by subjecting it to stress, and finally get it to be ready to solve some specific query by the age of 20 or so.. It is so taken for granted that once this stage is reached, all that matters is that the right data if input, positive and to a certain extent correct results are guaranteed... for the next 40 years, the machine is expected to motor along, if maintained by comforts like a healthy salary, a good fuck, delicious food, the odd booze and so on...
'Like a well oiled machine'..
An exception to this thumb rule is the machines called 'myself'.. this machine, like the others has been meticulously planned and the right components of geography, history, science, language, math, art, music, blah blah blah have been embedded, tested under some stressful conditions from which it has came out successfully with flying colours.. AGED 20 the machine is ready to be sent to the customer who has ordered for this masterpeice.. All according to plan, until one night the machine lyin idle in the factory suddenly starts using its own brain... until now it was all constructed by someone else's intellect but now this dormant brain, suddenly becomes active.. The brain inside myself, or anyone is considered by the designers as a massive threat.. but then, myself's designers made the mistake of not supressing it like how the others have been doin to countless other machines.. negligence on their part i must say.. and this was all that was needed for the prince inside to wake up.. with all the readymade food inside, a delicious meal was cooked in the brainkitchen.. the whole system inside was ruptured and a new state of the art monument was beginning to be constructed.. and this took just some few months or just days..
It is no longer the puristic machine.. just a complicated screwed up non deterministic infinite automaton, as you can see typing things noone else would give a thought to...

HEAVEN BESIDE ME AND HELL WITHIN, I very well know!!

2006-04-23T07:30:00.000-07:00

My Epitaph!!

If only I could carry my happiness to my grave
If only I could re-live all those memories, i could save
If only I could touch and feel, the ones so near
If only I could shed along with them, that mournful drop of tear
If only I could open my eyes, to see who really care
If only I could feel their sorrows, their worries if i could bear
If only tomorrow was just another day
If only I could be there, If only I could stay
A tap on my back, sent a chill down my spine
A dark shadow covered, hardly a good sign
Twas the devil, sporting a scornful laugh
Tellin me to extend my arms and write my own epitaph

2006-01-30T11:03:00.001-08:00

PANACEA...or...Wishful Thinking??

Project eval, Sucking mess, Sessionals, Attendance, First hours, no-hopers, Kutching, Orkut, Loneliness, crowded me, idle mind, porn movies, self defence, expense, xerox, dons around, Ragda, Richie rich, bitchy bitch, coders, ppts, last bench, aptis, Gunners lose, pop music, Reliance dialup, KC, net stop server, LIFE SUCKS!

It couldnt just get better.. A road that fate had generously laid out for me was inviting me to trudge along like a weary loser.. And I obliged.. Despite having a chance to detour at any point of time, i was uninterested and content on leading an unmeaningful existence.. I am no different from a sloth.. Barely managing to walk on the path of time not realizing that each step is one closer to the end of my life.. 'The time Axis' as mathematicians would say, was a red carpet for me.. With every quantum of time passing by, I left behind no legacy, just mere dusty footmarks which just signified that 'i was there!'.. Or rather 'I too was there!'.. My eyes are bleeding, my hopes misleading..The spirit is just fading away.. I was embossed on a stone of mediocrity.. A no hoper I was.. All i am looking for is a goddamn panacea, a cure for this disease..
Maybe I may... Maybe I will

"Trapped in a lonely body,
I’m losin' control
can't show my emotions and
I’m losing my soul
could it be that I’m obsessed with feeding my disease
I couldn't make it know that hidden things that no one sees

Yeah loser I’m a secret loser loser I’m a secret loser

Fighting a losing battle
pretending to win
repenting to holy unknowns
pretending to sin
all I do is hide the wounds where blood just won't congeal
couldn't ever take my soul 'cos isn't there to steal

Yeah loser I’m a secret loser loser I’m a secret loser

Though I’m the loser there is no winner there's nothing left to win
the hidden reasons now in deletion are lost in sin
so heed my warning the time is dawning I’ll tell you here's the twist the truth is lying below the surface I don't exist

Loser I’m a secret loser loser I’m a secret loser

Seeing is not believing
it don't mean a thing
although it appears to be
that the loser is king
i can understand that what you see you think
is real but underneath the surface is a wound that cannot heal

Yeah loser I’m a secret loser loser I’m a secret loser loser
I’m a secret loser loser I’m a secret loser loser I’m a secret loser"

-OZZY

2006-01-30T10:00:00.000-08:00

SOLTITUDE: THE PRECIPIPE TO TRANQUILITY

A humid evening and a stifled atmosphere.. fifteen or so filthy maggots devouring on some leftovers and constantly buzzing an annoying tone in my ears.. the stuff i could comprehend but did not want to.. All that these maggots believed in, was that if they did find someone who dint give a fuck regarding their existence, it was that guy whom they will attack and irritate.. little did the brainless, puny nicompoops realise that after all they were just scrawny, sick maggots after all who could all be squashed into pulp by one mere swat..call it ignorance or irony of mother nature!! who says ignorance is bliss.. unfaffected by them i was riding on a surreal dream of soltitude,so much above these petty tangible objects around me.. i was reminded of a moment of true devine charm when i was over the highest peak in kudremukh called 'Gangdikal'.. the air was so true, the feeling so sweet, the satisfaction so immense and the thoughts so pure

" So many things I think about
When I look far away
Things I know -- things I wonder
Things I'd like to say
The more we think we know about
The greater the unknown
We suspend our disbelief
And we are not alone --

Mystic rhythms -- capture my thoughts
And carry them away
Mysteries of night escape the light of day
Mystic rhythms -- under northern lights
Primitive things stir
The hearts of everyone

We sometimes catch a window
A glimpse of what's beyond

Was it just imagination
Stringing us along?
More things than are dreamed about
Unseen and unexplained
We suspend our disbelief
And we are entertained

Mystic rhythms -- capture my thoughts
And carry them away
Nature seems to spin
A supernatural way
Mystic rhythms -- under city lights
Or a canopy of stars
We feel the powers and we wonder what they are
We feel the push and pull of restless rhythms from afar "

--Neil Peart(RUSH)

we had conquered the ardurous test..the trecherous terrain had been so unforgiving.. and yet we felt that mother nature was laughing at us just like how momma was smiling at us when we jumped in glee on getting an A+ grade in kindergarten.. i could see noone among everyone around me..It was a void in me that was so complete..The mother of all paradoxes of existence.. All i could see was the picture perfect serene wilderness around me.Thewhole void of soltitude inside me was being filled by the endless sea of tranquility.. it was just a plain old beautiful sunset but it caused such a power packed change in me that for sometime I felt like God.. I "was" God..so strong was this change induced in me that the realization dawned in me that soltitude is not as what people think: Being alone.. It is that devine void in oneself that can only be filled by tranquility.. it is that state wherin one is liberated from tangible feeling and appreciation.. No, i could not touch the mist around, nor could i touch the dusky sun rays, the intoxicating breeze blowing or anything of that sort.. i had plunged deep into eternity.. the point of no return.. It seemed to span like centuries.. The moment.. I had lived it.. I had graduated to another level that only a few chosen ones have been to attain..I wanted to be in this state.. I had once called it loneliness but I now laugh cos i realize:

I had become comfortably numb
.. god bless Floyd for that devine song

ME AND MY MIND.. THe BEST COMPANIONS THERE CAN EVER BE..

I pity those who laugh at this thought.. God bless you
Amen