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.......

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

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

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..

Tradition child, tradition..

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

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

[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...

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

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.

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

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

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...

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

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

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

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

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.

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

(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..

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...

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)