Where The Blahs Dont End

Happy, sad and everything in between.

2011-12-07T19:35:00.001+05:30

boo hoo. now this is the third post ive written and erased like in 20 mins. i guess this is performance pressure now.

Happiness. Highly overrated. Pursued relentlessly, achieved by a handful. Total waste of time I tell you. All the fun is in trying to be happy because happiness is such an Utopian place it couldn't ever be a constant.

All the happiness we get are in little distractions from being sad. The middle ground, the practical state of being, where we all think we are happy, where we can let got of all our burdens and worries and actually fool ourselves into thinking that we are happy. Now this land does exist and how long we can trick ourselves into thinking we are happy is anybodies guess. Slightly disappointing but something I totally believe to be true. Most of us are never going to get what we want, some may try and fail and the rest who do get there very soon realise that they wanted something else and got something else. its the chase where all the fun is. when you think you are doing something that is going to take you somewhere you *think* you want to be. its all a joke, you dont know what you want, you dont know what you'll get and you dont know where you'll be, and in all this chaos if you hit the jackpot be sure it wont last long. So yes, I do believe that all the happiness Ill get to see in my life is in for a moment forgetting the true sadness, in blinding myself, in taking my eyes off the deep endless abyss. And I believe it to be true for you too.

Sadness. Highly Underrated. The darkness never gets credit for the light. Unlike, the elusive happiness which never seems to be there when you need it, sadness is like that true friend who never leaves your side. Its always available in plenty, there all around where ever you look. Open your eyes and lend your ears and you'll hear the desperate screams of a billion. And in a every life a billion reasons to unhappy. In fact happiness is so fake and dependent of sadness to exist it should be called unsad. Unhappy is such a redundant word. Sadness is the truth, the one that exists, the one that is deep and truly felt. The one which stays in the memory, the one which when recalled sinks your heart, the one that overwhelms. Happiness is the mere absence of sadness, for that one fleeting moment. The pause before you get back to life.

P.S : I think the best way to be happy is to be stupid and ignorant. You've seen blonds laughing their heads off? That is Utopia.

The Inheritance of Loss

2011-10-30T22:42:00.003+05:30

The book arrived almost ten days after i had ordered it. I was still ecstatic to receive it, but that was about it. On opening the book the font seemed a bit small. On reading it it seemed too slow for me. Too descriptive and too rustic. Its nice to read books set in a village when you're in a city but in a village the gentle pace of the book dint really appeal to me. But I read on, at first i felt like a determined man up to finish a job he doesnt like or want to do. But within twenty odd pages i got hooked. I liked the descriptions et all, but this posed a new problem and that was concentrating on every word i read in the book. If i skipped stuff i dint understand what exactly was going on. The book was a like a mosaic and it really wasnt my type. Which meant i dint naturally get it. I had to try and understand it. The story skips back and forth, and even though the plots are not interwoven, there was always enough going on to keep my mind wandering on to the other plots. There are so many different characters so different from each other, each carrying burden of a varied past. So I had to concentrate, which I find a big pain. To be frank I put in effort to understand and appreciate the book. To which many people may say I just read the book!

So, yeah I soldiered on and kept reading. Every now and then an out of the world description would inject
me with enough enthusiasm to move forward. The thing that made me buy the book was the story of a retired judge. To read about how his life deteriorated was why i bought the book. But well most of the book dint directly deal with it. It had much more characters than what i hoped for and each one's story more significant that what i expected. I guess it was after half the book was over that i really started liking the book. When it started getting dark, when page after page Kiran Desai shredded each layer of hope with great care and affection. It was the kind of killing of hope I had never read before. I like books like these but generally hope is just battered, sometimes too hard with bare fists. Its like taking a very beautiful painting and tearing it with your fingers and then tearing the torn bits again till it cant be related to the pretty picture.

I have never read something in which great care is taken to dismantle every part of the machine, to pick out every single nut and bolt till nothing but the bare bones remain. Hope is a very tender thing, needs great care to nourish, and is very easy squish and put an end to. But doing it delicately, with a surgeon's precision, now that is not very common.

I think Desai has managed to do that in the book. She doesnt just explore various themes, she doesnt even pass a final judgement. She tears you apart by exploring humanity behind the darkest of characters. Behind bitterness, cruelty and unjustness. You want to like certain characters and you want to forgive them for things that have no hope of forgiveness. Thats where the book excels. Making you choose people you dont want to like. The great affection and effort you notice in every sentence and every phrase.

I thought white tiger was a good book. It got me pissed off and angry. It would make a great movie too, maybe. The thing thats mainly different between a movie and a book is that in a movie you can show thing that are 'done' way better than in books. Doing can be explored and shown with great drama and impact in movies. Perhaps sometimes even feelings. But what a person is thinking, there a book beats a movie hands down. You can show a thought in a movie, you would have to cover in a veil and make it an image. In a book its bare, it has no pretty make up to 'show' us the thought. Its quite pure if you ask me. So I think white tiger, though a monologue, does more 'showing' what a person is thinking and explores the metamorphism of a person than actually exploring the protagonist's mind.

Anyway, one more thing. back to inheritance. There's a servant, and through the book he is treated as a servant. Pretty badly too, perhaps. Nameless, he is called the 'cook' through the book. He gets a name only in the second last page of the book. So when i noticed his name I just figured it was quirky. I dint attach any significance to it. Then I heard Kiran Desai in an interview saying that she did so on purpose, and to give him some dignity. It killed me really. Thats what i mean by care and effort in every line in the book, i was quite moved by the authors effort to resurrect the dignity of the cook. It was a lost cost and most readers would not even notice it (just like how i might not have noticed a million other small details). But its there, there is meaning to it. That, to me, shows how deeply the author connects to the characters. How much effort has been put in to breed life into words placed next to each other. It made me realize that no matter how much you like, understand and appreciate a book, movie or song, you cant ever equal the creative act of making the thing. That was what killed me a little. Its quite obvious on hind sight, and pretty meaningless too, but a realisation is a realisation.

Another thing I realised is that hopelessness is not the absence of hope. In fact, most things we hope for are hopeless. End of story.

Typing.

2011-09-10T20:51:00.001+05:30

Well, most things have a story. Typing too. Very personal story unfortunately, so you are very unlikely to gain any general knowledge out of it. So I got my first computer in 1999.. I was like ten years old. The world cup was on too. Anyway, so I had this computer and when of would chat with my school friends I would really struggle to keep up with their typing pace. I hate keeping many chat windows open while talking to many people at the same time. Even then I really struggled. I never went to any typing school either. I still type predominantly using just my right hand.This is getting really boring now. Anyway the point of this post is to say that for me typing has changed forever. I now have a phone which has no buttons to type. Also, though it has a touch keypad, I don't really have to type on it. It's got this awesome thing called swype which basically means I just swype my finger through all the alphabets in the word and it types out the word for me. It's super fast too. But since I am not a big fan of speed and love watching all the designs made while swyping, I really just make many designs for the same word, it's really lot of fun. The main reason why this post is still going on is because I really like swyping and don't really feel like stopping. Plus it looks so good when someone sees you swyping. It is just wow!

Mementos

2011-05-15T14:10:00.006+05:30

I have always tried to push people away. I pride myself on the fact that i dont let it get too close with anyone. I cant, I dont like it and I simply dont want to. Thats how I have been for 20 long years. In a self confined prison, you might think. But well, it keeps me happy and more importantly safe. Safe from people whom I have always believed to be murdering pirates. All the people in the world, every boy and every girl, I sincerely have believed, without any exception, to be a murdering pirate, out there to trap you, rape you, and take everything you have and run away. So I always kept away from getting too close to people. People from a distance are funny, they can be made fun off, tons of mean, sly, hurtful jokes dont do any harm to me. It was a small little paradise I constructed in a world I believed to be hell.

Anyway, all that believed. Thing is the college has pushed me so much to change that view. Its brought me to the brink. Good people exist. And not just in movies and books. Good people exist. This reality is so difficult to accept for me, even now I am just coming in terms with it. Anyway, thats a bit I wanted to write about. It might come naturally to a lot of people. But well, I have had to learn it the hard way that not everyone in the world is horrible and bloodsucking.

So well, what i did what to write about and not rant about was this:

I was leaving rourkela, so I asked some of my friends to give me some kinda momento. you know, nothing too heavy, or nothing too meaningful, just a small thing i can remember people by, maybe 10-20 years from now. you know how small silly things gain a lot of value with passage of a lot of time. But some people gave me heavy duty mementos. so heavy duty that i havnt removed them from my bag. well, mrutyunjaya, mitu, was leaving at around 12. i was kinda sick so they woke me up just at 12 and i had to get ready n leave him off to the station. i was just changing when i heard a knock. it was very hurried knock. so i changed quickly n opened. mitu was outside an handed me two things. one a chocolate beetle, from germany. Its supposed to bring great luck. it did too, mitu has had a tremendous time with great jobs and college admits n all. he truly believes in it. thats what makes it so heavy. i dont really believe in all this. but he does. it takes tremendous heart to give such a thing. i still cant believe its with me. it just means so much to give something that means so much to you. it simply means that hes nicely, with great ease too, handing over all his luck to me. it might not be literally true, but he is okay with it. he is okay with giving me all his luck. that is just heavy duty. that is heavy.
thats just one. the other one was an alpenliebe chocolate. he answered some questions really well in xlri interview which impressed his interviewer so much that she gave him a toffee. now again, had i been in his place i would have eaten the toffee. or wud have tried to keep it safely and eventually lost it. thats what i have done to my supposedly lucky coin :P but he kept it safely. thru all the days the thought about how his interview went, waitin for the result to arrive. weather he said too much, or perhaps too little. or that he should not have shot arrows in the dark. wondering if the chocolate was a sign of good things to come or a 'well done, dont lose hope, try again later' token. turns out the goodluck beetle did enough for him to get into xlri. the alpenliebe is with me now. its just so difficult for me to have such a thing. its so massive. a small beetle and 50p alpenliebe. who would have known, ha?

thats just one half of it. i have another crazy friend. his name is arpan. this guy spent a year in college all alone. the entire 3rd year, all alone. with a thousand people around him, yet all alone. day after day, alone to college, alone to lunch, alone to dinner, alone on his birthday. alone. in the most burdening sense of the word. as alone as arpan. in the start of the third year he bought a box of ferrero rochers for company. he ate them all but one. one he saved for the last day of college. for when he will leave the dreaded place. when it will all be over and he would go back to the place he so dearly loves. the last day. spending months counting down to the last day, the day he gets to eat that last ferrero rocher. so on the day he is leaving. that final day which he had been looking forward to for like ever, i meet him in his room and ask him for a memento. he has nothing. hes sent all his luggage thru gati. he hands me old papers, some things he has doodled. i take all of it and go back to my room cuz my eyes hurting bad. now when he is just about to leave, i go to his room again. hugs n all. he just leaves the room and like 5-6 ppl are around. he gives me a lock and tells me to lock it. i am like there isnt anything in the room, why lock. he says ill tell u later, lock the room and keep the key. as i just finish locking the room, everyones gone by now, arpan tells me that in the shelf, there is a shirt, below the shirt is something. that is for you, rakh lena. he says this much and leaves. so i open the door in a hurry and rush towards the self. i grope at the shirt kept deep in the self. i can feel something rectangular. i think its a mug. i hope its just a mug and not something too meaningful n all. but it isnt. its a transparent plastic box with one golden ferrero rocher in it. it killed me. i dint know the story at that time. it still killed me. i broke down into tears instantly. just the fact that there was just one. and that he locked the entire room for that. and that shirt. god knows how many times i have seen him that pale blue shirt of his. i wept for quite a while. it really killed me. an empty box with just one golden snitch, trapped in a transparent plastic rectangle. all consuming. very hard to take.

well thats not it. i gave a lot of chocolates, over a period of time, to this girl called archita. shes a nice frnd and all. and i just liked being nice to her. i am not nice to people. she gave me the freedom to be nice to her. which is great. cuz i dont generally feel like being nice to people. anyway, i was nice and i gave a lot of chocolates, and chocopies and chocobites. all kinda chocolaty stuff. so i am leaving on the train. and i am feeling great cuz like 15 of my frnds have woken up all early-early at like 5 am to drop me off at the station. i was in a jolly mood. we waited of the train to arrive. and i kept cracking jokes and made sure there wasnt much silence, lest it should become all senti. then the train came and many of us went in. then realized that staying out was the better idea. lol. so archita and i were left in the train and she gave me some mementos and told me to see it later. then we got off and continued the banter. it was all good. the train left and i kept waving till i could see no more. then i came back n sat on my seat. then i mustered up enough courage to see the mementos. first there was a card. you know girls. cards. handmade and all. killed me enough. smell of fresh fevicol. i could imagine her making the card a couple of hours earlier. and just like that, to see her again, ill have to wait for 3-4-5 months. god knows how long. but that wasnt it. she also had given me a bunch of wrappers of the 'first' chocolates i had given her. the toblerone from home, the bunch of chocobites. so many wrappers. each collected everytime she ate the chocolate. each saved for this day. a memento thats taken a year in the making.

all this means i have put the beetle, alpenliebe, ferrero rocher (and its box), the card and the wrappers all away in my cupboard not having the courage to face them all again. maybe some other day. some other time, when i actually need them. maybe when i cant reach my friends. or when we havnt spoken for so long that i would rather look at these things. maybe i wont ever have to look at them and reminiscent. but that happens only in dreamland, doesnt it?

--
bare with the typos

Deaf Sound

2011-02-25T20:13:00.002+05:30

hey,

I am writing music reviews here : http://deafsound.wordpress.com/
Please tell me how they are and how I can make them better. Thank you all.

Yours,
Raghu

normal.

2010-12-29T19:53:00.005+05:30

yesterday night i was waiting on my mother. her flight had landed when i reached the airport. i was listening to songs from gulaal and was waiting for her. i wasnt in too much of a hurry. i am pretty patient when it comes to waiting. anyway, so nothing great was happening. even the security was pretty bored. since it was past 11 in the night there were very few people. the guard lay in the bunker waiting for something to happen. yawing and all. like almost always, nothing happened.

a very beautiful girl came out of the door. she looked beautiful in a happy sort of a way. she had a face of a mentally challenged person, but somehow it dint reduce her beauty or anything. more than just the looks, her face just beamed of happiness. the kind of happiness that looked very genuine. something i felt i would never feel. she looked happy, very happy, and also very curious. she might have been 20-25 years old. she looked around with a big eyes as if she was just born. as if all of it was new and exciting. very childlike. all this and she hasnt walked even a few steps out of the door. she moves forward. ten steps ahead she sees a stranger. the traveler is in a hurry. like most people coming out of the airport, going somewhere, she is in a hurry. but the girl looks at her, pauses, and smiles. its a huge smile. its a smile that would make cold hearted commis smile back. but the stranger doesnt smile. she gives the girl one of those 'whats wrong with her' looks and goes back to being in a hurry.

it hit me. it really did. cuz all the girl's beauty went away in just a moment. she looked just like evryone of us now, she was crushed, she fit-in now. she dint look one bit different. the girl was given a heart warming welcome. welcome to being normal. hopefully, the girl, unlike many of us, will recover. i think there are too many people in the world who get beaten into shapes by the world around us. like some of us are happy, and formless, and very curious. but the formless, carefree attitude doesnt suit the world around us. the beating starts. we are beaten into shapes, shapes that confine us, shapes that hinder us. then, sooner or later, we give up on being ourselves. its so sad.

untitled is a nice title.

2010-12-25T20:07:00.004+05:30

it kills me. i am a motive person i think. i love to know the motive. in fact i think motive is more important than the action. the motive makes the person. actions make what a person appears to be. cant argue with that. ofcors motive with the action is perfect way to judge n all. i mean that is pretty obvious. but i just feel that motive has an extra edge, you know. its all easy to do. its much more difficult to want to do it.

but you are what you are. you have to want what you have to want. lol. its getting serious.

i really like being busy and in a hurry. but i also enjoy being lazy and having nothing to do. what i really hate though having a lot of time to do something that doesnt require time. the problem being that if i finish the work early then i keep checking and re-checking it. and if i wait to do it later i really cant laze around completely freely. its not good.

and now im like old enough to have a slight idea of what i want to do. its so damn difficult to even imagine doing something for 40 years or so. so i know i shunt think of it like that. then again, im not. even now i dont really care. i know whatever i do ill manage. but i really shud want a life better than just managing. i know, but im still too lazy to actually do something about it.

sometimes i really wish i really really wanted something. sometimes i am happy i dont. my sister says its the better way to be, not wanting too much n all. lets hope shes right. lol

Dillagi

2010-12-13T19:39:00.002+05:30

hahaha one of the funniest reviews i have read! hahaha dillagi is a below average hindi flick with sunny and bobby doel falling in love with urmila! its one of the those movies in which sunny doesnt threaten to break out of the tv. this sensitive side of sunny seemed to have appealed to Mr. Dave Abbott who wrote this gem on imdb!

I thoroughly enjoyed Dillagi because all the actors are in great form, the songs and dances go perfectly with the story and is very well produced, photography and locations were top notch, and the story is interesting. My problem was the drawn out climax and anti-climax which went on way too long and was somewhat predictable.

I also had a major problem with the Eros DVD which was very skimpy on the sub-titles, almost to say that, if you don't know Hindi, that's your tough luck. It appears as if subtitles were used when someone felt the viewer had a need to know because there were several extended spots where no subtitles were available at all. None of the songs had subtitles which really hurt since, when you view the Making of Dillagi, Sunny Deol kept saying how all the songs were integral to the film in that they moved the storyline along.

Despite my reservations, I waver between a 7 and 8 because the overall production was so well done, especially the great songs -- 10 -- which all had great locations and choreography.

hahahaha! whatta bechara!

how low is too low?

2010-09-14T03:05:00.003+05:30

there is no place like rock bottom. it is the place to be now. better now than ever. ive always wondered how rock bottom feels like. and i always wonder if this is it. the obvious benefit of knowing you've hit rock bottom is that you'll know only good can happen to you. things can only get better. so the earlier you hit rock bottom the better. i have a major problem of being happy wherever i am. so reaching rock bottom is pretty hard. but i can smell it around. i dont know if it is rock bottom or if it is just the smell of needing to work hard to get some place. i might be the latter but you never know. there is no litmus test to know for sure if it is rock bottom. you know the most important think to grow is accept that you are in a bad place. its a difficult question to address. its a question whose answer you dont really want to know. rather be stuck in a bad place and not know it. but with that attitude youll never know rock bottom now, will you? for all you know rock bottom might be a beautiful place. with a big fountain too. not just rocks. the security a rock bottom provides is that nothing worse can happen. now that is freedom. do whatever and be guaranteed not to lose anything. lovely, no? why arent we born this way, you ask? well, what do you learn all the way through then?

now the other thing about rock bottom is that it doesnt really havta exist you know. all of it could be one big joke to get working. its got a good combination of both fear and hope. and a sense of freedom. dont have any place to fall to. i guess its all about when you decide to look up. when you decide you've had enough. i guess now is a good time then. cheers.

Jill

2010-09-05T20:19:00.002+05:30

weird block. readers block today. haha

Nirvana

2010-06-20T01:50:00.004+05:30

Long time since I wrote about music on this blog. So this is about Nirvana. Nirvana was the first band I really heard and liked. They are what Ricky Martin and Backstreet Boys were for many many people. I never went thru the linkin park and Boyzone phase. I liked Nirvana. But I still like em. That way they are different from your boyzone or westlife. So yea, I think they are a very very good band. I really liked them because I always felt that if I had a band it would land up being like nirvana. not knowing what to do with all the fame. always feelin unhappy making music which makes money. even if it was not meant to be commercial. i still feel the same. if i was any good at music my band would be like nirvana. they seem really a lot of fun to hang out with. i used to dream of goin on tours with them. it was always great fun touring with them. kurt, grohl and krist have like a million funny vids on youtube. all their interviews are funny. they were what i thought i could be or would be.

their music is very conflicting. if there is anything i really understand then it is that the conflict of what you want to do and want to be with what you ought to be and ought to do is endless. their music is so painful at times. the riffs kill your ears. the bass is very strong, so much so that many people call them noisy and meaningless. but they are not. kurts voice in the start feels too slurrrrry to even comprehend. but i beg you to keep listening to it. there is meaning. and it at first gave me the feeling of being understood. that there were people so dissatisfied like me. that they could still be happy. that you can do what you love even in the world that i felt was so full of shit.

I truly feel that their best album is bleach, closely followed by Mtv unplugged. Bleach is not easy on the ears. its the least adulterated of all their albums. its what they wanted to be like. its hard hitting, and has the i dont care if you like it, i am like this attitude. my favorite songs have to be Love Buzz and Negative Creep. negative creep finds that evil thing in you. it makes you want to be bad. by the end of it i always have to calm the animal we all have inside. even if its only fake, the evil, bad, disgusting things i want to do get the briefest appearances. go to the lyrics page and you wont find a single sentence you can make sense of. the whole album is like that. listen to kurts voice and youll understand even lesser. but if the music gets to you, it gets to you. then you can understand kurt. then you can feel it raise into you. then you can feel it become a part of you. then you want to listen to it all the time. then you want break free and destroy everything. then you stop and go back to life.

Feel the briefest moments to freedom.

Mtv unplugged is the album on the otherside of nirvana. there is no youthful hope in it. the cynicism in it is not the kind of you can talk people out of. it is the judgment. it is. everyone nirvana met on their way sucked every bit they could out of the band. what was left was acoustic brilliance. My favorite song from this album is surely something in the way and where did you sleep last night. both songs are just sooo sad.. you have to listen to it to know. i must have heard this album atleast 200 times. no joking.

i have never looked up meanings of any nirvana song. like ever. so when someone tells me confidently that this song means this i always speculate. it means something else to me. people take floyd the barber to be a song wherein the barber is a butcher and kills off humans. but i always felt that it was a song about how nirvana struggled to make music they were ashamed of.
about how they were forced to butcher their music just so that they could survive.
i have still not able to understand if they were happy with their music or they started hating themselves for making it.

i have never gotten myself too involved in the whole controversy of how kurt died. he died. it makes me very sad to think about it. how i would wait for their new albums like people who wait for metallicas or coldplays. i want to be able to do that. he was too young. just like mitch hedberg.

nirvana was the first band that i felt any connection to. they introduced me to rock. they still mean a lot to me. take my ipod, play some bleach, and i hang out with my good friends. Nirvana. Well almost.

Rebirth

2010-06-08T18:12:00.005+05:30

okay, so almost 5 years back i wrote this post, rebirth. what i considered to be the best i had ever written. it was written in chat lingo. but the concept was really nice. i so i just changed it a bit now and have re written it. Here goes.

---

It was a tunnel. but it had no end no beginning. It seemed like there was just me. Trapped almost. But i did feel something from the outside. Like i was not alone. it was filled with liquid and there was just me. I did breathe. And pretty heavily too. The silence was deafening. The soul was empty. The sight was dark and feeling burnt me. There was a need to want something, absolutely anything would do.

I was hanging on to a rope. The harder I clinged to it the faster it slipped. I knew my end was near. That was a surety. Every moment seemed like a whole rotation of the hour glass. As the emotion dried out in that air I thought about how I reached here. Was it the end? Was there hope? No. I was dead.

The feeling was numbing. Was I to accept this? I felt Death smiling wryly at me. There was no escaping.

I was hoping that there would be another life. Another chance. Anything but this tiny space. Reasonless hope, totally futile, but kept me alive.

Maybe I wasnt dead, I was half dead, no I wasn’t half dead, I was half alive. I am not just accepting this emptiness as my end. I cant. I will fight. Whoever, whatever. If I only knew where to start.

I was kicking the walls of the tunnel. After every kick I heard a thunderous, satanic roar of laughter reverberating in the closed cell. That hurt my ear to no end. That sound. That sound. Very peculiar. But I knew there is someone else.

Then suddenly a something occurred, surely nothing short of a miracle. I felt a soothing breeze. I felt healthy, like i was being fed. Like someone knew I was irritable. I had the power. I cud break free, but the rope slipped out of my hand and I feel further into emptiness. I was falling. And my heart stopped beating. Period.

I just hung there in time.

I deserve a better death I thought. Now I wanted memory. What had I done, I wanted to know.

But I fell on a cushion. So soft that not a solitary thing did i fear. there was no fear. I was safe. I felt life for the first time. It was divine.

That was something I could not understand. There was someone helping me. There was someone caring for me. Someone who brought me hope. Someone who was my only hope. Someone who sacrificed everything just to see me grow.. someone was there even i needed it the most. She was the breeze. She is the cushion. She is the air I was breathing

I slept in the warmth of the cushion. But i was still in the tunnel.

The rope was beckoning. There was still nothing around me. Except nothing. I was still very near the end.

But the fear was swept away. But I felt safe. All with my eyes closed.

Then suddenly I woke up. I was forced to wake up from the dungeons of illusion. I cud hear only screaming, shouting and more harsh voices.

Soon again another miracle occurred I could see light at the end of the tunnel. All my stay began to see fruitful. Now my struggle began. I could see the light. Now I felt true happiness. True inspiration, I wanted to reach the the end of the tunnel. But now i was chained by the same rope to which I clinged dearly for my life. I broke down and started crying. I could not understand anything. Things changed so terribly fast. I was all but dead and now I felt completely alive! Then someone just severed the rope. I felt great pain. Like i had just lost a limb, and so did the whole tunnel. So there it was. I was part of something bigger. It finally hit me.

The rope was gone. I struggled and I escaped. I felt freedom for the first time. I left the tunnel and entered the new world. The world of humans, I felt the first human touch. I could hear bursts of laughter and they called me some bundle of joy. They all helped he through it, it seemed to me. I felt terribly happy though. I belonged somewhere. People wanted to see me alive. All all through I thought I was alone. All through I thought i was dying, but she was giving life to me.

I touched the divine creation. The person who helped me survive. Who allowed me to see light. I was, am , will forever be awed by the patience and courage shown by this angel.

so again, what this little piece captures is the time between us gainin consciousness and coming out of the womb. I dont even know if we have any mental health before we are born, but if we do, its not heaven in there.

things i wont to tell anyone, but want everyone to know.

2010-06-03T18:30:00.004+05:30

of late ive been spending a lot of time alone. and so ive been thinkin about stuff. i have spent a lot of my time watchin karl pilkington talk. it shud have numbed my thinking a lil bit. all the things i read or see around me, all the things that is bound by fiction, i keep noticing the recurring theme of alienation. Is it because i dont belong, or is it because the there is actually the theme? I dont know. frankly i dont think about things i know to be true. i dont think about what kind of a person i am, though i do think about what i want to do or be. what would make me happy and all. and i never come up with a nice answer for it. so about alienation, there are places you feel comfortable being yourself, and some people are able to be themself everywhere. i think i do fall in the latter. but then again, i do feel shallow and a kind of an outsider anywhere. i have always had problems accepting someone in my life. i always believe that i dont contribute much to anyone. atleast i dont give them something others cant give. which always makes me wonder if they even want me or need me. then i think do i want them? sure i do. do i need them, mostly not. but would i feel sad they left now? sure i would. but not for long. which kills me. i want to long for someone. but i know i never let anyone close enuf to want to long for them. therein lies my problem.

but then so many people dont think like me. they like me even though they wont depend on me. they dont think about liking me. which again makes me wonder if they would like someone else instead of me. now if you read this you are probably thinking that this guy says he doesnt care about anyone, but he actually does. i guess so, but not too much. that fact is what i regret, the fact that i love people but am also detached. its like i never go all in. its like a rope is always holding back a barking dog. thats what i feel like. sometimes i really do.

then ive been reading books, you know. i like reading books. but im all picky and choosy. i like a book 250-350 pages long and with a easy reading font. i also like to be able to understand at least 90% of the words. story is important too. it must not be a stereotype. you know, even if the book has a different ending, i dont want the book to just have a different ending, or the opposite of what i expected. i like the book to make me think of different things. things that would not have occurred to me. i want to lead me. not simply show me. not just tell me.

and that thing about hope. my cousin sister with whom im stayin for the summer told me that hope sucks. mainly cuz we are hoping for stuff that wont happen. i could never get myself to agree to that. i think hope should not be blind. you should be prepared for the downfall, but there is no need to not hope. only a person with crushed leg bones can hope to just be able to run. its more beautiful than you think. simply because no matter how hard you try your eyes wont twinkle when you run. no matter how hard you try you are not goin to be able to wake up in the morning and appreciate that you can walk. you must crush your bones for that. and therein lies the hope. dont you think so? dont you think that hoping to get what you want is not just irrational? that it is more beautiful than that? and wont you agree with me if i said that its okay to be irrational to experience something this beautiful? makes me believe even in blind hope.

then i see movies which start off so sadly and end with so much hope that it seems constructed. everyone changes and everyones got what they deserve. such a beautiful movie, the color purple, but why did it end is that way? why should everything be alright? why is the end so important, why must the conclusion be this perfect? why must it even end when everyone is happy? doesnt happen is our lives, does it? i do understand the argument that movies dont need to show reality but a movie that starts off showing truths about life no one wants to see on a movie should not have ended with an ending so unbelievably perfect. think they killed something very beautiful. but the movie is still so good. the movie explores the themes so finely. but as the story became more and more happy i felt more and more sad. i could see another movie being slaughtered.

Strange Starry Night.

2010-05-10T01:38:00.005+05:30

selling to time you and I -
enclosed and unbound,
but out to spin towards,
the sky.
--
oka this time a little meanin wont hurt. we've sold ourselves to time and thus are enclosed with the given time, you know, but are also experience a kind of freedom cuz we've accepted the limits and are willing to look beyond it.

Who is Who?

2010-04-11T15:45:00.001+05:30

"Attention to health is life's greatest hindrance."
- Plato (427-347 B.C.)

"Plato was a bore."
- Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900)

"Nietzsche was stupid and abnormal."
- Leo Tolstoy (1828-1910)

"I'm not going to get into the ring with Tolstoy."
- Ernest Hemingway (1899-1961)

"Hemingway was a jerk."
- Harold Robbins

From:
http://www.cs.virginia.edu/~robins/quotes.html
By Professor Gabriel Robins.

deep blue

2010-02-16T23:08:00.003+05:30

These are waters not to try to swim in,
these waters are to learn to swim in
These waters bring an underflow,
and breathe and flow you’ll learn to know.

Again, breathe.
Again, flow.

Up on my toes, down on my knees.

2010-02-16T22:30:00.003+05:30

Brit rock is so different from American rock. Brit rock seems so much happier and is more of rock and roll, and even the music is sad and slow the lyrics are almost always trivial and enjoyable cause i can always connect to non sense and irrelevance. but of late i keep getting weird feelings of getting old. i feel like its time to take responsibility and stuff. like this time next year ill be ready for a job and will prolly have one. a career is like 40 years long. forty years is twice the total time i have lived. its weird, cuz i still dont know what i want to do. i thought i might do a bit of jurno. i think thats what ill do though, but the thing is i wanna do just a bit of it. i dont wanna loose my sleep on the job. thats a big drawback of jurno. i want a job where i can sleep well without tension. its pretty important for me. so ill give the whole engg. job a proper shot this summer and try n do my internship seriously. thats the kind of job where you havta work all day, but can sleep aaram se at night. and have free time to do what you want. or might do an mba and god knows what after that. just like everyone. sometimes i just want to be a part of everyone and someone will take of everything. then when i get painfully dependent, ill just push myself away from them and try doing something.

but i really want to make a movie. and also have a nice photo exhibit of all the psychedelic photos i made in 12th std. with nice music. it will be so classy and elite haha.. and then to freak out the rich blokes ill call in some smart ass kids from the street, you know, its always fun to make rich people all red.

i like watching movies also. i like watching a movie which no one i know has seen and then i like recommending it to everyone, as if i made the damn movie! i mean sometimes i just like the print of the movie. sometimes the movie is really good but i dint 'discover' it on my own so i dont like it so much. its weird. so weird that i think it has nothing to do with the movie! but i does of cors :P

and you know what? i was watching these real good movies. all the oscar nominees and stuff and then i went thru a patch of sadness. all the good movies just made me sad. all the movies were sad and disappointing. and then i thought about it, actually im thinking about it now, haha now i must come up with smart and quick nahi toh ill havta rewrite this line. but generally i dont do the whole delete line and rewrite it n stuff, cuz thats the point of the blog right? anyway, all these good movies were almost anti-hope and about how everything sucks, how you really have to be extraordinary to even survive when you are pushed to the edge of sanity. and how top is very similar to the bottom. just like when they say when you hit rock bottom the only way to go is upwards. it applies to the top as well. it wont be very happy happy if you could only become worse now, is there?

but why are oscars always giving the awards to disappointingly real cinema. and are is all the stand up comedy so dark and sarcastic. why has everyone given up on a better world and better people? why have i? nothing has ever happened to me also. such a waste. its so hard to motivate myself to something good but its so easy to just do something senseless and wrong.

i dont think i like Brit rock. i always get over it. its not meaningful at all, though the music is nice and easy on the ears. thats all there is to it though.

The Fall

2010-01-14T18:32:00.001+05:30

How long can you make thirteen seconds last? Its going to take me just that much time to die. To reach the ground off a 40 storey bldg. Now I don’t want to die. I want it to last forever. I want to feel time infinitely. I now know there is nothing further. Endless nothingness awaits me and I am not prepared. Flash. And I am a child eating apple watching my mother kiss my sister gently. Her soft skin seems to glow brightly. I can smell her now. The child is restless and wants his mother. I cry. The wind blows so hard against my chest now, the force of it tearing my shirt apart. The tears blur my vision. I can’t estimate the distance. I want to go back and remember my past. Just like the movies. I want the one last flash, but it evades me. My end is going to be lonely. I am not going to be remembered. This is it, I tell myself. But for what purpose? Sad ten seconds or happy ten seconds, its all going to end. In a hurry and rather abruptly. Flash. I am still a kid. This time I don’t want to leave this memory. It’s dear. And I am afraid to go back and see the tar road searing back at me. The kid is playing ball with a group of friends. They were the people I’d go on to know the longest. A sudden fight follows and the kid is punched and starts bleeding. He stands up and pushes the bully back. The bully was to be my best friend. I want to move ahead in my thoughts, but am trapped. I know now that time is finite and I must rush through my memory and recall the ones most dearest. Still in the memory, a married man smokes his last cigarette and thinks about his child expected to be born soon. The child reminds him of his wife, when he had just met her. The immediate bond they shared and in the eyes he sees acceptance and love. Flash. I feel a deep burn in my heart now. The heart beats so hard against my chest. All those memories and time seems steady. Nothing seems hurried now. Something feels more appealing now. Something about leaving everything I love seems inviting. Crooked and convoluted but true. I want it to end and soon. Flash. A door shuts down hard. The sound deafens me. I beautiful woman walks out on me. The child stares at me with keen focus. I feel a deep pain. But time does not rewind. People don’t forgive. She walked out on me. All I love is gone now. And time seems infinite, drunk or not, the heart aches. The end seems fitting and death inviting. I must go now. I am ready to die.
--
i thought of changing stuff and makin the memories more coherent and meaningful, but what the heck, he is dying. cant help it if he cant think straight.

No New News

2009-12-16T19:08:00.004+05:30

i was watchin QI the other day. its the funniest quiz show ever. its so funny everyone can watch it. real smooth. anyway, there was this question "what was unique about good friday 1930 that on radio the played 10 mins of light piano music rather than the news itself on bbc radio". well, turns out there was no news that day! lol, cant imagine it happening now at all. i mean papers and some news channels actually dont have news on so many occasions, ut they do publish crap. it would be so much fun if they played music instead or showed some nice cartoon on tv, or published some sweet stories in the news papers for the lack of news. surely, not every section of the newspaper has news publishable enough, but they do publish something every damn day. weird.

anyway upon knowing the answer, one of the "contestants" in the QI, Linda Smith, said that her favorite headline every was" Workshop man dies of natural causes". Cracked me up.

Out Of The Blue

2009-12-09T23:05:00.014+05:30

press play and wait for song to load. its good. trust me. its 4.5 mb big.
there are two players cos one of em doesnt work well on internet explorer. well use firefox and the 2nd player. thats the best combination.

Somewhere along the way, my hopefulness turned to sadness
Somewhere along the way , my sadness turned to bitterness
Somewhere along the way, my bitterness turned to anger
Somewhere along the way, my anger turned to vengeance

And the ones that I made pay were never the ones who deserved it
And the ones who deserved it, they'll never understand it.
Yes, I know I'm going to Hell in a purple basket
'Least I'll be in another world while you're pissing on my casket.

How could you be, oh
So perfect for me?
Why can't you ignore, oh
The things I did before?

well, the song is so good! i heard this song a coupla days back and really liked it. i obviously loved the starting. there is so much meaning, about a guy who just spirals down the wrong path. it happens so often. its so difficult to realize you are down the wrong path and still extremely hard to turn back. but i thought that was it. that was all that there was to the song, and only after i heard it some 5-6 times did i realize that there is so much more!
i really liked the "how could you be so perfect for me" part, its so smooth. the song is so different from and refreshing yet meaningful, something i thought music lost after the 70s. the stanza captures how we blame others for our failures and hints at something i truly believe to be true- that we never get what we deserve. :)

Somewhere along the way, exacting vengeance gave excitement
Somewhere along the way, that excitement turned to pleasure
Somewhere along the way, that pleasure turned to madness
But sooner or later that kind of madness turns into pain

And the ones that I made pay were never the ones who deserved it
Those who helped me along the way, I smacked 'em as I thanked 'em
Yes, I know I'm going to Hell in a leather jacket
'Least I'll be in another world while you're pissing on my casket

And all that I can do is sing a song of faded glory
And all you got to do is sit there, look great, and make 'em horny
Together we'll sing songs and tell exaggerated stories
About the way we feel today and tonight and in the morning.

the second stanza totally makes me think of the jokers, the comedians, the Pyles, the DeLarges and Bickles of the world. its such a destructive chain. all the vengeance and madness finally gives raise only to infinite pain. all of them are so thoroughly in pain its extremely hurtful to even watch. there is so much madness in the world, insanity gettin people to do horrible things without even blinking. i think there is such a thin line between wanting to hurt someone and goin on to hurt that person. and i think its that line that defines sanity. its cruel.
i truly think that the Joker or DeLarge are in great deal of pain coming from the fact that they are misunderstood and have given up any tries to make people around them understand. finally deciding to give people what they want or expect them to give. Pyles case though, we can see that he is in extreme pain and at the edge of his sanity. he is always on the brink, and through every scene i was expecting him to do something, but even then i was hit when it came.

How could you be, oh
So perfect for me?
Why can't you ignore, oh
The things I did before?

Take all your fears, pretend they're all true
Take all your plans, pretend they fell through
But that's what it's like...
That's what it's like for most people in this world
The rich or the poor Oh,
Muslims or Jews Oh,
When roles are reversed Oh,
Opinions are too..No oh oh

That's all I'm gonna say now
Before they come knocking on my door now

i like the take all your fears and take all your plans part too. its a real nice song. real smooth. and so relevant to the times.

suicide. not for me. :D

2009-12-07T21:20:00.004+05:30

well, if you can think of killin yourself, then you can kill yourself. its a pity, ending your life. im pretty much against suicide, basically because you wanna do it because you are cornered and fear something terrible is goin to happen. or something terrible has happened and its pushed you towards the end of the world. you see nothin but one option, to slit your wrist and kill yourself so that you dont have to face the future. the reason suicide wont work for me is that i like to live. and even if i live by eating out of a garbage can, ill do so.
i see why people want to kill themselves. but i just cant see myself doin to. like ever. cos i always compare where i am with something even worse. i find it pretty useful also.. its a nice trick.
i actually have thought of many many scenarios where in someone might be driven towards suicide, most of the situations ive put myself in are from movies and books n stuff, and somehow i can imagine myself still wantin to go on and live life! in fact i think it works for everyone, mainly because everythin will eventually fade away and loose importance. there is always an option of startin all over again. say i was the warden in shawshank redemption ha, having to spend the rest of my life with people whom i have tortured is scary. but still, id try to escape first, if not id go to jail. i can imagine myself spending time with all people who hate me and want to kill me or even spit on my face. even though that is a life of no self esteem. its okay. id still want to live. the reason i say so is cos it cant last like that forever, you have to give life a chance to get better, for yourself to be better. well if it lasts forever. hard luck. you just have to try harder to be better.
i was thinkin about wanting to die. now that is different from not wanting to live. i wont do that either. its plain stupid to me. you are goin to get a chance to die, no need to hurry now, is there? :P
well thats that.
****
oh, thats 200 posts for me. next sehwag ka theen so :D

Duality

2009-12-05T00:24:00.003+05:30

We are,
but more than one,
each is split,
atomic like.

Apart alike.

The quantum dude,
our god permits,
and lightning strikes.

Not two, but one.
Let us touch the sides
of this world,
reborn.

Viva La Revolution

2009-12-04T21:18:00.003+05:30

There was a bunny. It was real happy and real cute. So everyone liked him and his parents thought that this little bunny could make the world a better place and named him Bo. Bo grew up and wanted to go around the many small houses in the forest to discover how others lived. He had a long holiday and another enthusiastic friend so the idea seemed viable and fun. They did go around all of the forest and enjoyed the warmth and affection of all the different kinds of animals in the forest. Also the bunny felt very bad. He felt that rich people were not treating the poor animals well. And the poor, even though nice, hard working and loving, are very poor and struggling to make ends meet. He saw that all of them had common hopes and ambitions and even a shared the same rich culture. He wanted to make ‘em all live in one big house and let ‘em be one happy family. He told his parents and they dint really like the idea. They said people were happy the way they are and that all animals could not live under the same roof.
Bo, was not satisfied and was still deeply disturbed and thus, left home and the forest and went out. He wanted others to listen to his ideas and he realized that many bunnies liked his idea. For a quick and effective spread of his ideas, he thought, and revolution was necessary. He tired working here and there and many bunnies loved what he said but soon he realized that bunnies alone could not change anything.
At the same time the wolves were also planning a revolution. They hated the eagles. These eagles in fact, always patrolled the wolf infested jungles of Varadero. They even made many wolf friends. Soon, the eagles appointed the leader of the wolves. This wolf, Senor Beshta was especially cunning.
The eagles worked with Beshta and his wolves. In return for giving him protection and making his pack of wolves the most feared in the forest, the eagles got a share of all the meat the wolves hunted.
He had a very corrupt pack and took no care of the poorer wolves. He let the mafia flourish and took bribes from them. so some wolves, urged on by, Soto, wanted to kill Beshta. He attacked Beshta but Beshta was too alert and Soto's wolves were too weak, so Beshta captured Soto and set him to be killed. But some time later, Beshta was being cornered by the eagles again and to show them that he was no tyrant, he let Soto and his men go.
Now, Soto too left his forest and both Soto and Bo met and trained other beasts to rise against the eagles and Beshta's pack. Again, Soto attacked. This time he had the support if innumerable rabbits, attackin aggressively and from all directions. Soon Soto killed many important wolves whom Beshta held dear. Fearing for his life Beshta fled the forest and went into hiding.
This left the eagles very unhappy. Not only did Soto not give the eagles any meat, but also made sure all the excess meat was had by his pack. He too forgot about the poorer packs. Anyway, the eagles were not so utterly powerful without any reason. They had a special flock of birds they called The Eye in the Sky. The eye, found wolves in the Varadero forest who dint like Soto and his pack. The eye tried training them and wanted an anti revolution in the forest. This made Soto wary of his own junta in the forest. Soto and Bo decided that the best way to thwart any revolution was by terror. So they killed other animals and many a times without much reason, just to scare the other animals.
But soon Bo moved out of Varadero too as he wanted to start a revolution in some other forest.
The eagles never quite liked the crows. They were always fighting. The crows, found that the wolves were rising against the eagles and thus started supporting them. Now the eagles were certainly threatened and sent another pack of wolves to fight and bring down Soto. Soto treated them the same way Beshta treated him. He too was alert and easily crushed the pack. By this time Bo wanted to spread the revolution to all nearby forests and bring joy in his own forest. Soto, who had forever lived in Varadero dint want to leave. Soto ensured he had immense power and killed any wolf who dint obey. he even took a share from every wolf's hunt and the poor wolves really found it hard to continue living. to make things worse, the eagles threatened all other animals in the forest to stop helping the wolves. The crows and the eagles also wanted to end the fighting. So now, even the crows dint protect the wolves. The whole forest wanted peace but Soto dint move. In fact he sent his wolves to fight in other forests too.
Soto became a sign of terror and slowly most of the animals moved out of Varadero and went into other forests. Soto became lonely and grumpy. And he lived that way till the very end.
The eye sent out a special flock to kill Bo when he was startin another revolution in another forest. Bo was betrayed, hunted down and killed and with him the eagles thought the revolution would die too. But the revolution was an idea of freedom, and ideas don’t die easy.
Bo never did what he wanted to do. In fact even though Bo pushed aside Beshta, he himself did not handle power very well. He killed and mistreated many of his own bunnies. The same bunnies for whom he had started the revolution.

Comfort in Strangers

2009-10-22T01:24:00.004+05:30

We forget
the little tokens,
the tiny nuances
the real interactions
a wink, a wave, a smile.
Here, mere transactions -
click, clack and don’t look back.
It’s all pretend but you, you are real
and I thank you stranger
for taking this time and keepin' it brief
for here, now
I feel reel
too.
--
i know its not very good, but i also know its sensible and i felt it.

Isle of flowers

2009-08-21T21:03:00.004+05:30

when i first saw Cidade de Deus, i was intrigued. i read about it. it exists, its real. i was freaked, but then when i saw that the movie dealt with the situation so casually that i thought their would be something more degrading to humans that Cidade de Deus. The poor slums were relocated to a completely isolated crime infested place they called the City of God. what a name.

but would you believe me if i said that there are places with better names. there is a garbage dump in brazil. its called the Isle of Flowers. Extremely poetic name, the isle is owned by a guy who uses the dump to feed pigs. hes a good person, so for charity he feeds the poor children and women. he makes groups of ten and he lets them choose food in the dump, food which he feels is unsuitable for the pigs. yes, humans choosing from the organic matter the pigs refuse to eat, what the owner feels may harm his pigs.

ive seen pigs eat absolutely anything and everything, so what exactly is unsuitable for pigs? what is it that they dont eat? its freaky, its still considered normal, how things look so differently from the outside. i wonder if i also do things that are considered absolutely degrading from the outside. im sure i must be, but still.

i was also thinkin, even garbage pickers are better off, firstly they have the upper hand compared to pigs, here pigs get to choose first, lick and smell everything before humans get to even look at their dinner. plus garbage pickers can push any other animal away, the isle is just cruel.

when i tell this story to anyone, they always realise that whats happening is that humans are degraded way below pigs and that none of us will be willin to exist that way. everyone understand this but the owner and the poor scavengers. it gives me the shivers the imagine a place where its considered okay and normal. but i guess we all can be like that, if we are pushed.

**

i was also thinkin, mostly because i have a lot of free time in class, weather we should let any moment in our life be more important than large parts of our lives. its weird, but so many of us spend most of our time waiting for that one moment above all others, but is it worth it, how long will the moment even stay with us?
i also fear stagnating on one moment, living for and with moment. many people like it too, striving for one moment and achieving what they want, but i feel that it makes a person very limited and curtails all his experiences. im a kind of person who wants to try evrything and then let it go if i like it too much. sounds and is absurd but i cant cling on to anything i like too much for too long. everything is short lived, and i think that makes it long lasting and more memorable. i believe that what you experience when you start something is very different after you use it continuously. may it be people or things i like to do, nothing really excites me for too long, which makes me pretty much a rollin stone. i dont know if i proud of it, but i dont think im goin to find that one thing and all, infact im pretty doubtful of that one person also :(

anyway, so i think i should do many things n have fun in general, i want to have sometime in life when i cant be forced to do anything. im not sure whan that will be ha.

so little for so much

2009-08-06T22:44:00.003+05:30

i think so. i think that every man is capable of being dark and bad and committing heinous crimes that go beyond boundaries of cultures and countries. i also think that it is what separates the sane from the insane. we all feeling like falling off the edge and many of us are driven there but i guess the prime difference is not falling, hanging on and waiting. i like the whole set up where you wait, you wait for the worst to pass and see whats happenin. its useful if you know whats the worst consequence and if you can let it happen and then make your move. its sounds and is awfully cool. you wait, you dont do anything till the very end. all you havta do is follow the story, see whats happening, maintain a list of things that you dont want to be happenin and watch. its awfully cool to play the last hand and win it. let everyone play their hands and believe that they have won, wait and then kill their ecstasy. its great when it works, its almost like the guy can control more things than an ordinary guy and looks great from an outside perspective. but thats that. its too risky and even though it gives quite a high, its very hard to be consistent at it. its worth it though, even if you hit it once in ten times.

i think that pain and sadness is very beautiful too, sometimes i feel sad and it brings me down and make me believe even more strongly that sadness is a great leveler. like what ive written before, i do enjoy the fall while lookin back at it. i think its very useful, the fall, and i feel its very important not to fall the same way again and again. in every adversity too lies opportunity, an opportunity to understand your weakness and study the fall. i also think that no matter where you are, no matter how far you are from where you want to be, its vital to make the most of where ever you are. its a lesson that i learnt the hard way, but i learnt it and im glad i did. its difficult to enjoy the very thing you hate, and im not exactly proposing that, its more like making the most even in a situation in which you are surrounded by things you dont like.

the other day i was wondering how would we look at this world if we thought/ were told this was heaven. it would certainly be a nice experiment, would people still want more, would we still think of the beyond, and still be unhappy and still fight? are we indeed capable of living in an Utopian world and capable of sustaining a world of our dreams? will we all be happy and peaceful if we all got what we wanted? forget creating an Utopian world, i am kinda sure that we cant live in one, not unless we change, but if we change a lot more is possible, no?

i heard this song called "Can Anyone Who Has Heard This Music Really Be a Bad Person?" i really liked the song, and it made think about how do artists feel if their work is misinterpreted and misused. it would be very very hurting to find yourself responsible for someone elses life. but its weird, if we can bring in more people in the category of artists, include scientists and writers and news guys, we land up shoving responsibility on others. we can hold news reporters for showing wrong news and writers for corrupting minds. that way we can blame everything on others. i think and stand by what i think, that its wrong to hold anyone else completely responsible for something you have done. the action is yours, no matter how much ever influenced, and it is you who has been influenced by it.

too much load for one day. even if its come after a long long time.

Must watch!

2009-08-06T00:16:00.004+05:30

Well, the first one cant be embedded cos of some privacy issues, anyway go watch it on the tube. its awesome. the song is lovely and the singer is special.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY

the 2nd one is just the craziest piece of swing bowling i have ever seen, yes the pitch and conditions were crazy too, but still, everyone has crazy days.

Next one shows a girl called Neda killed in Iran during the protests against the election. Worth every bit of rage it caused. Viewer discretion advised wala video hai :P

My fav fav, best song ever :D

nice simple video of shark vs octopus.

Aila. Time pass.

2009-07-10T00:13:00.003+05:30

okay turns out some people can be crazy and random wit absolutely anyone. im not completely like that, some people bring out the best in me. here is a convo wit a crazy buddy of mine, named TG. And she's kinda my back up wifey :D
Shes just so awesome.. there are only an handful of people i can go this berserk wit. Just so awesome :)
im "im an asymptote", shes TG.
--
im an asymptote says:
baby
TG says:
GAY!
im an asymptote says:
baby baby
haha
TG says:
GAY GAY
*snorts*
im an asymptote says:
whats up?
u still work?
TG says:
??
im an asymptote says:
arrey u had a job na
some stupid low paying yet non menial job?
TG says:
lol
stopped working in like may last year
im an asymptote says:
oh
so now ur all free?
only some classes na?
nothing but thoda thoda coll work?
TG says:
yeah
im an asymptote says:
nice nice
TG says:
no college
im an asymptote says:
no coll also/
?
fulltoo free time?
masti yaar
oh sorry masti baby
TG says:
okay
you're sober or drunk?

im an asymptote says:
sober
hehe
i can get high without drinkin
im in that mood now
TG says:
okay
im an asymptote says:
im a bullet
i will peirce ur heart
my love.
haw sounds cool na?
im a bullet
i will peirce ur heart
my love.
haw sounds cool na?
there?
TG says:
TG says:
noo
TG says:
if you peirce my heart..i think...I THINK I SHALL DIE
TG says:
DO YOU WANT ME TO DIE????

im an asymptote says:
no no
just a way to show my love darling
TG says:
SURE
im an asymptote says:
haha
lol
i cant stop laughing
lol
TG says:
why can't you stop laughing?
nice way anyway to show me your love by wanting me dead...
all the lover boys should take some "vishesh tipinis" from you
im an asymptote says:
haha
what else can a bullet do?
it can stuck in a wall
or it can kill some one
or peirce the heart of its lover
TG says:
english...
*snorts*
im an asymptote says:
but im a bullet
and i love you
i know i type bherry badly
TG says:
horrendous would be an understatement
im an asymptote says:
but my love
im a bullet
TG says:
oh shutup with your love and bullet
im an asymptote says:
n i cant help it
TG says:
well..you will have to
im an asymptote says:
hwo, my love, how?
how*
lol
its like my typos
i cant be changed
its part of who i am
TG says:
SHUTUP!!!!!
im an asymptote says:
i am a bullet
TG says:
YOU ARE ANNOYING!!!!
im an asymptote says:
ur the only person in the whole world
to whom i can talk like this
it makes me soo happy
TG says:
ARGH!!!
im an asymptote says:
tell thank you
TG says:
i like the mumbai raghu!
rourkela makes you bevadaa
im an asymptote says:
lol
its the same raghu. darling, i just happen to be a bullet
TG says:
i will block you if you don't stop with the nonsense
im an asymptote says:
oh god.
block me with a wall and ill get stuck in it
cause.. you know
im a bullet
TG says:
when are you next coming to bombay???
im an asymptote says:
okay ill stop
dunno
maybe march
but surely may
TG says:
good...we should meet up so that i can shoot you and peirce a bullet into your mouth!
and fingers as well
im an asymptote says:
you know one day anisha n i had a convo like thins
about some plants in our homes
TG says:
i pity her
im an asymptote says:
it was soo hillarious
some osho n zoan
crazy
TG says:
no wonder sometimes she bitches about you!
and i used to go like, now why would she say such mean things about such a nice guy?
now i know why!
i know that convo
im an asymptote says:
haha
thanks for the compliment
see how nice i am
TG says:
well, i was sadly mistaken about your niceness
im an asymptote says:
thank you ma'm
i shall surely remember your favour, i will make it a point to help you whenever you need it maa'm
TG says:
erm..okay
i need help right now
i need to kill some guy called raghuraman rangarajan in rourkela
im an asymptote says:
what may i do for you, maa'm?
no maa'm, that cant be done
that man is very dangerous
he is a bullet
TG says:
first your bullshit about bullets and now about ma'am!
no life you have got or what?
im an asymptote says:
you are my life, my loving wife
im such a romantic poet
TG says:
going to start with "wife my life" now???
im an asymptote says:
im saving this convo to show to anny

Who is he

2009-07-09T01:50:00.004+05:30

He started off as a liar
pretendin' to know
pretendin' to be -
it was a game he played
and it was so much fun.
Shocked him
when he learned
people believed him,
and so, he began
to believe himself.

That was then.

Bet you dint know it :P

2009-06-29T17:49:00.008+05:30

Mount Athos or Autonomous Monastic State of the Holy Mountain is one of the holiest places on earth. In English it translates to "The Holy Mountain". This peninsula in Greece is the home to 20 odd monasteries. Well, now to the interesting part, women are prohibited in the campus. In fact females of all species are prohibited from entering this holy space. With the exception of cats and chickens. Haha, cats because they help keep the rodent population down and chickens cos their egg yolks are used of paintings :D

Aliki Diplarakou, who won Miss Europe way back in the 1929 dressed as a man and entered Mount Athos, which stood invoilate since the Byzantine Empire.

And ofcors this place has a very stringent entry procedure and is also exempt from the Schengen Agreement which binds many European countries. The monks call this agreement Satanic :)

***

Some cool stuff about animals and insects :D

In an attempt to achieve streamlined motion while swimming dolphins shed their skin every two hours and do so continuously all the time, and so have a very flaky, dandruffy skin :P

the fly named after paul allen

A lot of celebrities have animals named after them, Frank Zappa and Shakespeare lead the list with 3 animals named after them. David Attenborough, Harrison Ford and Mick Jagger have 2 animals each named after them. Other famous people sharing names with animals include Mozart, Bush, Lennon, Paul McCartney, Bill Gates, Paul Allen, Mandela, Dalai Lama, Barack Obama, Simon and Garfunkel, Laurel and Hardy and Charlie Chaplin :D

The Gobi toad lives in the desert and waits every 7 years for rainfall and then they mate and go back into the desert.

I always thought that Tigers belonged to the jungles, where they are the most regal and threatening. Turns out most tigers are in private hands in the USA. Not the zoos, not even entire of Asia. What a shame.

***
Jack Nicholson is one of only two actors to have been nominated for an Academy Award for acting (leading or supporting) in every decade since the 1960s, the other is the butler we see in The Dark Knight, Michael Caine.

***

Only 20% of the Great Wall of China even remains today. It was built and rebuilt from the 5th century BC to the 16th century and an estimated 2 to 3 million people died in the project to build and maintain the Great Wall. 2100 years the wall protected the Chinese Empire from attacks from various tribes and dynasties. Also at one point in time it was gaured by 1 million men. And just a few months back 290 Km of previously undetected portion of the wall was discovered. lol

***

Graham Bell is credited to have invented the telephone but he also invented the metal detector and started the National Geographic Society. There is a nice little story about Bell's metal detector. Turns out American president James Garfiled was shot in an assassination attempt. While one bullet grazed his arm the other was stuck up somewhere near his spine and could not be found. He was getting real sick. So Bell made a metal detector just for finding and removing the bullet. But when put to work the detector malfunctioned and the bullet could not be found. This happened cos of the bed on which the president was lying on had a metal framework and this problem was not identified cos beds with metal frameworks were very rare then. Its also said that the metal springs in the mattress may have caused the malfunction. Anyway, the bullet was not found and the president died after months of suffering and of a massive heart attack. Fancy beds.

So, Didja Know?

2009-05-23T13:52:00.006+05:30

Andy Warhol, was one of the greatest printmaker, he designed the modern coca cola sign you see everywhere. He also designed one of the best album covers ever, Rolling Stones' Sticky Fingers. (No. 1 on Vh1's list of Greatest Album covers)
But well the interesting part is this, oh ofcors he was gay, but he also made really weird movies.. more like anti cinema. In his movie "Eat" a guy eats for the full length of the movie. In "Sleep" he shows his friend sleeping through the night. But the movie I wanna watch is this one, called "Chelsea Girls". The movie actually has two parallel stories projected on the screen at the same time, one white and another black, signifying good and bad.
**

Have you ever wondered how Dodo's became extinct? Well, the main reason for their extinction was their fearlessness. They were found in the Mauritius and they were never hunted by any animal. They were never the prey and so they dint have the sense of fear of being killed. So when man came into the island with dogs and pigs, the dodos were plundered and hardly ever ran away or resisted. They were easily the most courageous birds. What a shame.
**

I really like pigeons. I'll go on to tell why later, but first the case of passenger pigeons. They were found in North America and during migrations their flocks were 300 miles long. There were about 5 billion of them before Columbus found America. Well, now the Europeans started hunting these birds and near it nesting grounds an estimate of 100,000 birds were hunted down everyday. Hunt, Hunt , Hunt. It carried on for quite sometime. The pigeons' strength lay in its numbers. And numbers were dwindling fast. The last flock of 250,000 birds was hunted down on a single day and it seems the hunters knew twas the last flock. I wonder what kind of people can do that. Be the cause of extinction of hapless birds.
Well, turns out the common pigeons we find in our homes are pretty smart. They are hunted by the Peregrine Falcon. The PF is the fastest bird and can reach speeds of 200 mph! But the pigeons does well when chased down by the falcon. 1stly, the falcon uses gravity to gain speed, so pigeons try their best to fly above the falcon. 2ndly the pigeon, since its smaller and slower can take a sharp turn and enter populated neighborhoods and dense forests. 3rdly, and my favorite trick, when the falcon is right above the pigeon and just about the grab its prey, the pigeon stops flying, acts dead and starts falling down just like stone! Now how many birds are smart enough to do that! awesome i say :D
**
Coca Cola was first manufactured and sold in bottles in 1884 or summin. It was a drink consisting kola nuts, wine and cocaine. Yes. Cocaine.
**
Wondered how Scooby Doo got its name? From the ending of the Frank Sinatra song "Strangers in the Night", where he goes "doo-be-doo-be-doo". Swear :P
**

Now, I sincerely believe that Taxi Driver and Clockwork Orange are the two biggest mind screwing movies ever made. John Hinckley, Jr. fell in love with Jodie Foster after watching her in the movie Taxi Driver. He wanted to impress her desperately and wrote her many letters n stuff. She obviously dint respond. So the guy tries to what the protagonist does in the movie. Attempts to assassinate the president to get Jodie Foster's attention. "Failing to develop any meaningful contact with Foster, Hinckley developed such plots as hijacking an airplane and committing suicide in front of her to gain her attention. Eventually he settled on a scheme to win her over by assassinating the president, with the theory that as a historical figure, he would be her equal.", wiki says.
Before the attempt he writes to Foster saying
"Over the past seven months I've left you dozens of poems, letters and love messages in the faint hope that you could develop an interest in me. Although we talked on the phone a couple of times I never had the nerve to simply approach you and introduce myself. [...] the reason I'm going ahead with this attempt now is because I cannot wait any longer to impress you."
He does attempt to kill off Reagan and Regan almost dies. But well, Foster aint impressed. hehe
**
ah long post, so long. The world is a depressing place.

Fear

2009-05-14T02:47:00.007+05:30

We are crawling
Under the beams
Dodging flashlights
Without being seen
Yet still we crave to see
Through the darkened glass
Of who we want to be
And in fear, of what we become.

Deep blue sea

2009-05-14T02:43:00.002+05:30

I will keep this thought
to myself tonight.

Pass

2009-04-22T20:17:00.002+05:30

blink blink

can’t write,
not now,
and most nights
come to that.
and come to this;
this space
between thoughts
this moment now
used up by things.

blink blink

and it’s
gone.

Looney tunes

2009-04-08T21:30:00.004+05:30

do you have a friend who keeps joking all the time, i mean all the time, even when he is hurt or even when his best friend is red with embarrassment. do you know a person like him who is forced to be the entertainment for every evening? do you know a person who relentlessly tries to laugh and make others laugh no matter how strange the place or people?
have you ever wondered what he thinks? is he just a jest or does he have a character? have you envied his capability to be happy at all times and the fact that he is enjoying everything that is happening to him or the fact that he is never let down by anything and that nothing keeps him down for long? does he trivialize everything? do you doubt his capability to every be serious and handle any situation? have you ever thought he was just plain stupid? have you looked beyond all the make up? does the make up make the person he is?

all my life I've cracked only stupid jokes and i have made fun of everyone i have ever met. i feel a surge everytime anyone makes the smallest mistake.. i feel like its my job to make fun of them. i remember when i was kid i used to play with people much older than me and i remember instances when i had to run all around the building to escape people who wanted to hit me. obviously there have been instances when i have been hit for telling people things they dint want to hear. but very very few times i have been hit. more often than not people move away from me. i push them away, i remember why best friend for a long time moved away from me. i dont know why, all my life ive let people come only that close to me. if they try to come closer they have to pay the price, very very few people have survived that final cut. im trying very hard not to make people around me go through that test.

anyway, sometimes when im lonely and there is some silence, some darkness and the perfect brew for some thought, i think. i think about the price ill have to pay to be like this all my life. though this is the only way i have ever lived my life, i am forced to ponder how ill control myself and not make fun of people who can make my life miserable. it will be worse than in school. weather ill just land up paying a price much more than what im ready to pay.. when is it the right time to stop? will i know? can i depend on my instinct?

but almost everytime i keep making fun for a prolonged period, i get tired. i get tired of talking non-stop.. i get tired of listening to people laugh, and sometimes cursing me.. of some people fighting with me and of some people trying to explain to me that i was wrong in making fun of them and that they are actually hurt.

i get tired of being indifferent to people and relentlessly making fun of them even after i know that it hurts them and even if its something i have not felt or experienced. i hate it.. evrytime i pause and think about what im doing i hate it.. i hate being the thing i hate.. i hate having to do things all the time even if i dont want to.. its become some kind of a responsibility that everytime anyone makes a stupid mistake also i have to point it out and make fun of it.. if i have to start a conversation i have to make the other person laugh. its almost like i cant keep talking sense so i keep talking non sense. cos i dont like listening to sense, i enjoy talking non sense. but now i think about it, i feel that im becoming one dimensional. even though i love it most of the times.. there are times when it just hits me, i get tired.. i feel burdened.. sometimes i just want to be taken more seriously.

a couple of days a person laughed at joke i cracked. i sensed the presence of some kind of darkness that i would not be able to control.. for the first time i hoped that the person had not laughed.. i felt cheated when he laughed, like he laughed to push me away.. for the first time i realised there was another kind of a laughter which waay darker than anything else i have heard. after a long time i had met someone with a deep character.

my friend made me wonder what kind of a life a looney tunes character would have led.. everyone laughing at him all the time.. his only job is do to things that make people laugh. its just as bad a job like superman or batman, who have a responsibility that they cant run away from.. even if i stay quiet for a while, im hounded by people who ask me what is wrong. cant a jest be sad? who makes the jest happy when he is down?

is the job to laugh all the time a good one? where do i hide when i want to? where do i feel pain when i want to? is my life just an exhibition?

i love movies about clowns, about their life.. all it is is one big lie.. a lie to themselves and a lie to the world. is lying to yourself okay to tell the truth about other people.. to make people hear things that they dont want to? is running away from reality and hurting yourself a price worth paying? is it worth loosing people all the time?

i cant even count the number of people i have lost by just being frank and making fun of them, sometimes just a casual joke that they wunt like.. all of it comes back.. it has to sometime.. and it does.. they did nothing to deserve it.. all they did was liked me and really showed me more love than what i deserved.. and what i do, i show them that im not worth it and that their mistake is that they chose to like someone who doesnt deserve it?

it seems cruel. it is cruel.

Desire.

2009-03-28T21:02:00.001+05:30

The more I know who I am, the lesser I want to be me.

God Is Bored.

2009-03-19T09:07:00.001+05:30

God is bored. I can imagine Him eating chips and watching the show on earth. Now, hopefully, He has more worlds to watch and an universe to run, cause He is not really doing too much here on Earth and earth is not really entertaining him much. I think He is totally into sex, violence and destruction. He is not getting too much order in the world either. I mean letting Bush be his sub-ordinate for like a decade! What in Gods name was He thinking.

God could have been kind and loving, He could have made people happy and the world filled with peace. He could have created a world free from war and disease but instead he created many different religions. The Blessed guy not only creates religions but also makes us fight over them. If he created a religion everytime He was born, why on earth was he born in the same place again and again? The sadistic war fanatic could have stopped this never ending war between Israel and Palestine had he chosen to be born in one of the Americas.

We can easily figure out the extent of God’s boredom when we look at the number of natural disasters he throws at us.. Krakatoa Volcano, the Tsunami and the hurricanes, none of them seem to quench his thirst for destruction.. to achieve this new high, He needs to crash planes into hundred storey buildings.. seriously though i think Krakatoa is way cooler.

Oh, remember the time God played around with huge dinosaurs? Was that a baaad move or what! Those beasts were so hard to handle that He had to freeze the damned planet to kill em off. Bad experiment dude! Actually, now I think we humans are becoming difficult to handle to He is trying to heat up this planet and finish us off. Nice try I say, might just work.

Haven’t you noticed that every time He comes down to earth, He starts a war.. He is such an action junkie.. i mean every damned time.. Mahabharata, Ramayana, The Trojan wars, The crusades (okay, He didnt fight the Crusades but well, He started it)

Oh God, think about Africa. The whole damned continent is cursed and for ever. Every continent has had its ups and down but Africa. The time twas close to a high was when apes roamed around as the smartest creatures on the planet. Who else could come up with the idea of playing around with sick monkeys and contract AIDS. Seriously, God must help out Africa. God has been kind to India.. Indus valley civilization, the Mughals, Vedic Age- All cool stuff, when India was respected. Dammit , we are just born in the wrong time.

Think about oil.. the Guy could have spread oil all over the planet. He couldda made earth juicy and impregnated, but hell no! He stuffs all the oil in a tiny patch of land we call the middle east.. and We havta fight over it. What else can we do?

Sometimes when i think about what God couldda done and what He has done.. think we chose Him over Satan only cause He is the lesser of the two evils.

short notes

2009-03-11T02:32:00.003+05:30

last two times i felt like blogging, the thought was replaced with laziness and the counter argument was that no one is going to read what i write, anyway after that, now, i feel like blogging, and i take comfort that not too many people will be reading this.
i saw watchmen motion comic today.. its gotten 12 chapters and it was awesome.. i can easily mess up minds though, the first two chapters blew my mind.. i love the comedian guy.. he kept reminding me of joker.. the person who was a refection of what he saw, who gave the society the madness it wanted.. everyone keeps saying that he understood.. that he saw right through everything.. he thought he was the joker and that he made the jokes only to realize that the person who resembles him most, the person whom he instantly loathed had other plans.
the style of the comic is breathtaking.. i have no hopes in the new movie.. i dont think that people can make the characters look so good.. its a comic cos it cant be made into a movie.
every character has depth.. i was more interested in the way the characters would react to any situation than the situation itself.. the story dint seem so important to me.. i dint really care about the future of the millions of people whose lives rested on the shoulders of these watchmen.. i also loved the parallel pirate story that happens.. at first i dint get the hang of it.. but i loved the way it pauses the story and holds your attention.. it made me wait, it made me wait, and i loved the interpretations of the situations that rampaged into my head.. it lets your imagination go wild and at the same the pause, the wait makes the story much more fulfilling.
**
i think i spent 3-4 mnths of my life trying to get the approval of ayn rand.. to get a nod from her confirming that i was doin the right thing.. that i was the correct kind of person.. who ever that is.. i took me long to realize that she may be right, and what she said may apply to many people but that i could not live my life for her approval.. that there was no strict code and that i dint love myself too much and that i liked to dislike myself a little.. that i dint want to analyse everything and that i dint derive pleasure from understanding evryting.. that i liked to make use of things, the way parasites did.. i dint need to know how it worked to make the most efficient use of it.. i was more than happy just meandering around and that i dint need some ultimate goal in my life to work towards and that being devoid of the ultimate fantasy dint make me less able or intelligent.. and i realised that i loved being lazy, both physically and mentally.. i loved not having to think.. sometimes i find thinkin a big burden.. its not that i dont like thinking either but about more trivial stuff.. stuff thats unimportant crazy and non sensical.. i can get high without drinking n all.. i get high on nonsense, on craziness and by the fact that i can get away with absolutely anything :D
so there it is, im not a die hard.. i fall in the neither nor area, the grey area.. i think most of us do.. im juts more confused.
***
i heard brothers in arms like the last week.. its just a sad song.. it fills me, everytime i listen to it it fills me with sorrow and regret of betraying someone.. of leaving someone when they wanted me to stay.. of not returning to the person who loved me.. of not reciprocating love.. of not respecting the person who cares enough show me that i am important to them.. for taking people for granted.. for not ever thanking someone for all they have done, for not respecting sacrifice and for trivializing sacrifices..
i saw the video of mark knopfler performing the song live.. he looked so sad.
***

Damn your hands.
They can feel, but do they touch?
Rough as the sinew thread - hardened by ages sun,
cotton reeled and braided like driftwood.

its a stanza from my poem, coda. just felt like it.

Salt Rain

2009-02-12T19:17:00.002+05:30

Engulfed in darkness
You struggled and cried
Woven in a tapestry
Of violence and lies
Scandal spun on village tongues
Binds you to your shame
Weakened will and injured pride
You hide your face

Salt rain falling quiet
Your eyes are streams of sorrow
You stood silent
Why are you still silent?
--
this is a song by Susheela Raman
its not a great song, i like it but i dont think everyone will, and plus half the song is in tamil, but i think its gotten great lyrics and its the kind i dont get to listen much too.. scandal spun by village lies is hardly a kinda line you get to hear in western music, i really liked the lyrics.
maybe the link is not working now.. should be up after sometime.

just enough

2009-02-07T21:45:00.008+05:30

i dont do anything well enough, i dont do anything as good as i can do it, i dont even try to do anything to the best of my abilities, i do just enough that i dont get into trouble.
its applicable to everything i do, right from brushing my teeth to taking a bath to studying to playing to setting my bed before sleeping.. i do all of this only for their basic purpose.. the purpose of brushing, for me, is to stop my teeth from decaying, but not to make them white n shiny.. the same is applicable to almost everything else too.. i take it down to the only reason why one must not stop doing what he is doing, and then do the things only for that reason, cos it cant be stopped.

that is simply because i dont really like doing any of those, now one may say i have never liked anything enough to do it to the best of my ability.. that is also not entirely true.. i have liked things, i have liked snakes, i liked them so much that i did read a lot about them from where ever i could, but that lasted for some time, thats all.. before that i liked riding the cycle, i rode a lot, i rode it in the day and i rode in the night, just for fun.. i did have fun, again dint last forever.
now i read about snakes sometimes, and i also ride my cycle sometimes, i still have fun, but im not crazy about it.

i like downloading now, i do it better than anyone i know, i know so many ways of downloading, but i hate doing anything thats a little tedious or requires more effort, id rather spend time searching for a link that is not blocked than to use a proxy n put in all the mundane hardwork.
mundane, repetition totally turns me off, i can never read the same thing twice or even watch a movie twice with out putting in an effort, i hate repetition.. now imagine having to do something you hate repetitively. that is the killer, the last nail. thats when i do it just well enough, just enough for it to be done, just good enough for it to be judged as done well, just bad enough for it not to noticed and called the best n all.

well thats that.
__

i like sad music more than happy light music, i like lower notes a lot more, it almost always sends the shiver down my spine, i like the entire dragging on of the lower notes, they always last n play in my mind after the songs over, i like the whole feeling of death hovering about in a song, i like knowing that someone was dissatisfied with the world he was living in, and protested to it, i like letting my self feel the way i should for what i am and not run away from the reality.

i like the feeling of a sad song, i can imagine sad things more clearly than happy things, i can imagine a scene according to the music.. all the happy stories seem the same, you know, but the songs let me imagine a wide variety of sad situations, but again the whole sadness in the music fits with some story better, and like figuring it out, the whole story.

**

i dont wanna talk about anything else now.. this poge has been open for so long that i started out trying to type sense and thru the two hours i have slipped into my nonsensical self and am now in no frame of mind to talk sense.. im a bullet now.
its time to groove.

this is a kid with wild ideas

2009-01-28T22:52:00.004+05:30

well, my favorite dialogue is from the dark knight.. its something like madness is like gravity, all it needs is a little push.. i love the way the joker trusts the goodness in the batman(and thus his own judgment) to tell him what he has created, that he has made a monster out of an angel, all hanging upside down, snarling and whipping his lips with his tongue. the scene did give me my longest goosebumps.
**
i think many of us are afraid to judge people and things and happenings, not because we are not capable of it but because we are afraid of being judged by what we stand up for, ofcourse i also fear just having to defend myself and getting into a needless argument n all of that. i sometimes think that i shud have something for which ill stand up and defend at all times cos i like it n stuff but then again i dont want to be tied down by one belief or one love or one passion, i want to have the freedom to enjoy more than just the one thing. i know people who like that one thing so much that they would willing sacrifice their lives for it but im certainly not like that, i feel tied down when im talking just to one person, when i keep doing only one thing all the time even if i like it.
i get bored of things i like, sometimes i prefer being lazy than to do something that makes me happy. in fact i get so bored of liking something, that sometimes i start disliking just to see how dependent i am on it. everytime i see someone doing passionately just one thing very rigorously and perfectly i think that they are missing out on something, like simply the futility or simplicity of life, taking a moment to appreciate mediocrity or the fact that imperfection too can be beautiful and can mean something deep to someone else.
i can be cold, harsh and uncompromising with people and i usually treat people very badly until the time they do something that really impresses me, but im trying my very best to change, to look at what is good in people and not be blindly harsh and ignorant.. also i kept trying to find something to dislike in evryone, smallest of the imperfections were enough for me too drive them away.. ofcourse i liked the comfort the cocoon offered, but i wanna have more fun, take up more responsibility, work as a wish, but work well and not be afraid of loosing or not able to convince people that im right or not able to accept that im wrong and that people around me, who i may have labeled as stupid, may well suggest a suitable solution and may well be right.. im going to try my best to be open to outcomes and not just blindly judge anything.. for judging is too a responsibility.
**
speaking of responsibility, i think that we all give waay too much importance to rights and too little to duties.. to explain myself id say that a person who kills a man is judged to be guilty of a crime, but a man who chooses not to save a dying/injured person is not guilty of a crime, crime of not trying to save a person.. every man allowed to choose to do his duty or not, but he is always entitled to his rights.. i have nothing particular to say about this but just made a kind of an observation that reminded me of the standards the world is trying to live up to, which is pretty disappointing.
**
i remember myself trying to justify theft as just another business opportunity.. the basic point i was making was that a businessman does is that he sells something of less value at a higher value, n so makes profit out of it. so at the end of the day he is indeed stealing from his customers. but then aagin the customer pays extra cos the businessman does something which he would not want to do, for example a businessman gets him some chocolates from america n charges waay more than what it costs the businessman to do the entire operation.. but then the customer is just waay too lazy to get the chocolates ordered n shipped from america so he pays someone else a lot more than he deserves. so the customer willingly pays more to a businessman but wont to a thief, for obvious reasons. i still find this whole set up of having to pay more for something worth a lot lesser a show of bein dependent and a state of double standards.. what i am sayin is sounding absurd but i feel this deeply mainly cos thieving requires a great amount of planning and wonderful ideas n all that jazz too, but because it is not hidden and is explicit it is condemned by our society.. i dont like that too much.. but i dont have a fitting solution either.
**
so yes.. im capable of being more than one person at one time too as i get bored of myself and bored of being predictable and consistent, so im going to change, im going to be a kid with wild ideas.

The Wind.

2009-01-14T23:04:00.004+05:30

Oh they wondered what the wind was for
scattering kernels upon dark floors
raising arms like fronds in breeze
calling troops of last frost seeds
rising now above their needs
they wondered -
had they sinned before?
shattered deeds perhaps, and maybe less
but maybe more than click of knees
cornered bent for scattered creed
locked and chasing seasons tease
and here now, hearing wind
feeling whispering, teasing,
wind.

this is england

2009-01-10T23:36:00.004+05:30

i watched this movie today called this is england, twas a very very good movie, extremely natural with lot of grey characters, everyone having flaws with people making mistakes like it is in real life, it dint have a glimpse of london even though the movie is named this is england. i think that is true for most places, including india. india is prolly know for mumbai and delhi and its call centers and its poverty n stuff.. but the rural india is hardly even know.
but back to the movie, its wonderful, the child is very innocent, he meets people who wanna show him a good time, with out any real reason.. and they do have a good time, but the movie never leaves the realms of reality, its stays firmly on the ground.. and through the movie a need to face problems surfaces.. its pretty subtle.. most people are running away from anything that makes them uncomfortable.. also the movie does not force its opinions on you, it doesnt beat around saying these people are like this or those people are like that, it just shows you what people have done and its upto you to think whatever you wanna. well you'd say thats what most movies do, but well most movies show a character in a certain light, hes shown as a phony or as 'bad' guy.. or a relentless helper or something like that.. i also loved the whole flow in the movie, nothing was forced to be more important or climatic.. nothing ever took a center stage.. the movie also had very nice music and some erratic behavior and showed how things we keep ignoring are more important than things we readily show and are willing to share.. even if it is an ideology we deeply believe in and share it with others.
the last few scenes are very beautiful and brings the movie to a conclusion, it is more of a personal conclusion and not a statement or a moral that unites the movie. the movie's flow and acting is very real, people talk like humans do and not just speak dialogues.

also,obviously, the child acts real well and loadsa unimaginable things also happen, which i really enjoyed.. haha.. i really like the skinheads after watching the movie and how much id have enjoyed the company of those kind of people. i also felt that there was a certain sadness expressed in the movie, sadness for the situation and sadness that that time was lost and would not return.. also the characters portrayed some very intense,depressing and cruel emotions towards the end.
i really liked the movie and if you are looking for a movie which is real and is not shot forcefully, this is it.

dont go to war

2008-12-27T16:53:00.002+05:30

i just hope that india doesnt go to war.. seriously a waste of time n money n we really dont need it ya.. everyone will be talking of war, as if they have fought wars.. news channels will go on n on about things they have no clue about.. itll be just too bad.. n then pakistan will occupy more of kashmir.. damn it have we ever won a war?
every time i think if we've actually won a war, people tell me that we have, we reached lahore once.. and im like, you check the map of kashmir before the war n after the war and pok keeps on increasing and after this war im sure we will have iok rather than a pok :P
seriously war is just something that irritates and saddens me.. its just waaay too futile n nothing good will come out of this war..if anything we will have more terrorists and more people hating india and indians and wanting to take revenge.
frankly there is not even a reason for war.. just cos instead for rdx some terrorists got some ak 47s.. we seem to have no problems with rdx and all the bombs that go off all over india.. but damn guns.. and we want war.. lol
anyway.. lets hope we dont have war.

Me n me

2008-12-15T18:11:00.002+05:30

Me: ssp!
me: nothing much, but im not bored?
Me: do you hate accepting that you are bored?
me: yes, but im not bored.
Me: now, how can i believe that?
me: dunno, infact i think i forgot what being bored means.. so either im always bored or im actually not bored.
Me: i guess you are always bored.
me: ya everything is boring, actually its not always boring. some stuff starts out as fun and then they get boring.. once it gets repetitive.
Me: so constant change is something you enjoy?
me: not particularly. like i like eating same old tried and tested stuff.. im experimentative with people and computers and some other stuff, but ya im not experimentative with stuff that i dint decide to do.. something someone else decided for me.
Me: like going out to eat?
me: ya.
Me: okay, so you like making decisions?
me: again, not when im made to, then if im reaaaly reaaly cornered i make a half hearted decision which wont require much convincing.. but then again i suffer after making that decision, ie, during the time of execution n all.. crap thats bad.
Me: blah.. so ssp?
me: again? gawd you are so bad act building conversations.
Me: arrey, i get bored when it gets predictable.
me: isnt there anything you can do to actually decrease your sense of boredom? as in you get bored easily.
Me: dammit, i actually get unbored with great difficulty :P
me: ya, so why dont you do something which nicely engages your mind and is fun n all?
Me: i cant say i really enjoy working my brain without any reason.
me: this is Bad.. it almost sounds nasty.. lol.. you obviously dont love being bored and you dont wanna work without reason? isnt working not to be bored a good enuf reason?
Me: please.
me: lol.. knew it wunt work..
Me: what say about the blasts.
me: please.. seriously some 300 people die and theyw ant the whole bloody nation to go beserk.. more people die of more "beatable" causes everyday.
Me: still, rich important people and all dead, no place is safe n all, dont you feel bad about it?
me: well, see its not fair to feel bad about just this incident and not feel bad about all the other "unfair"(i assume that is the reason why you feel bad) deaths, no?
Me: no, im not feeling bad cos people died unfairly, im feeling bad cos people died.. people who werent supposed to die died, people whose stories i read in the papers just died.. im sad because people were killed as if their lives were meaningless, i feel cheated cos it could have been stopped.
me: think about it, we have a billion people, and seriously there is no way we can stop 10 people from procuring guns illegally and killing 300 people.. its too small a number.. so it could not have been stopped.. yes it could have been worse, it could also have been less damaging had the forces reacted faster n all.. but still its just too small a number.
Me: dont act cold.
me: im not acting cold, maybe i feel sad, maybe i dont, im just presenting another side of the story, im talking to you and when i talk to you i think that you feel you are right.. im saying you may be wrong.. i just wanna argue.. im ready to be someone else to argue better.
Me: so what is it that you feel?
me: dunno.. since everyone around me is not feeling very good about it.. i think im just arguing against them.
Me: no, but what do you feel?
me: dunno.. really dunno, im capable of making statements for and against the same goddamned thing.
Me: me too, but i like it that way.
me: ya even i like it that way.. im pretty happy go lucky really.. im not very into being sad n unhappy n all.. do whatever it takes to be happy :D
Me: manipulate yourself cos you think itd too much of a pain to try n control others, na?
me: exactly, well thanks.. ttyl.
Me: chao.

one man's secret

2008-11-15T01:07:00.006+05:30

im sure we all have seen movies in which a father tells his son that one thing that changes the life of the son, the son follows that one saying and becomes the person he is. well of all the things a father can tell his son, my dad chose to tell me, one man's secret is god's secret and two people's secret is everybody's secret. now this may sound trivial and may not be rated as one of the best sayings of mankind but it is.
it makes sense, i interpret it as building a wall around yourself and not lettin anyone enter and not to trust anyone with anything important. that is what is trust. trust has various levels.. unlike many other things one person can trust everyone and at the same time no one. very interesting thing trust is.
and it basically calls the whole of human race untrustworthy and questions the reason why one person must confide in another man.
also, i believe that trust someone is basically judging yourself, and here is why.. when you trust someone you trust them with some information and also mentally you believe the person to be trustworthy(unless you are screwing around). so when the trusted person turns out rotten, your judgment about the person itself fails, and hence you judge yourself.
and since i dont think anyone is worthy enough to be used as a measure to judge myself, i dont trust people :P
so yea i dont trust anyone with anything important.. in fact i believe that importance of a particular thing can be judged by the fact that how many people it should not be told to. i make friends to whom i never open up, i find such friendships very satisfying and comforting.. i find explaining myself a big pain(unless im drunk) and avoid it as much i can. on thinking about the way i make friends i found out something quiet interesting.. for me making friends is just a reason to get to know someone.. if i find someone interesting and prolly peculiar i make that person my friend.. as in i try and spend more time with them, learn more things about them, and it turns out that the whole process is fun for sometime, but soon i find out irritating things about them and get too bored of their company and this is when it gets very much interesting( this does not apply to everyone, i have liked some people for more than 10 years now, without getting too bored :))
now that i know a lot about the person, i gain information about the weakness of the person.. i find out exactly where it hurts and often spend my time wondering what exactly i must tell to absolutely screw around with their minds. to do this i dont even need their trust or anything.. some people are so indifferent that no matter what you tell they wont feel much, for such people i make a list of things that can be done to hurt them. ok now that i sound so bad n all, ill tell something good.. i have never, but once, used the information ive collected.. i get angry and all but i never use it.. i always convince myself that they deserve better and that they like me n all those things.
many people get hurt very easily, its hardly fun hurting them or being rude to them.. i do this only when im really bored and desperate for fun :P
people who dont get hurt much or act as if they dont get hurt are the most fun.. cos mostly they come back n try to get me too.. so it heats up n gets into a nice fight.. and fights always make you stronger :P and you learn more about the person in that one second they get pissed off and angry than in the whole time span you've spend with them, i can find out their breaking point and their capacity to retaliate and how dirty are they actually willing to get.. that one moment is often the deciding moment and seriously the best thing to do when you find yourself in that situation is to smile gently and acknowledge the fact the opponent has gotten you cause most people are trying to piss you off by passing those sly remarks(which they very well mean and know to be true) when they are in a crowd and are very jolly.. its a wonderful cover and by smiling and acknowledging this cover is thrown off and it pretty much always surprises the opponent :D

seriously, the way people pull other people's leg is another awesome way to find out what kind of a person the person is (too many persons :P)

okay, so ya.. i was thinking how id react if i met some one like me(call him r2).. firstly sure as hell the gender of r2 wud be very important.. a guy r2 id hate.. id surely never stay with him.. he'd try pissing me off, id piss him off and the whole thing'd be a mess with no real friendship n all.. seriously we both would only just piss each other off and would never ever enable each other or compliment each other.. at the most we might get together to say carp about other people, but thats it, nothing good can come out of it.
but if r2 was a girl, things should be more interesting, she'd keep saying bad things about herself and that would intrigue me and she would push herself away from me and id try harder to chase her, it would be interesting but again only for a while, the problem i face is that everything and everyone is interesting but only for a while.
taste everything, like nothing.
damn it.. sometimes i much rather prefer that i had one god level love for something and did just that all the time without getting bored of it.. but again living without boredom wont be fun.. there is just too much satisfaction in doing nothing :D
okay, im not half as extreme as i sound in this post, im very maha flexible actually :)

the love bonsai

2008-09-13T20:15:00.000+05:30

I’m just a bonsai
note me grow
I’m not too much
but just enough
slowly s t r e t c h i n g ,
change shape -
patient nurture
tend and care.
Staying old,
protected and safe.

feeling

2008-09-13T19:50:00.000+05:30

sun and moon,
create light and weight,

the gray sky filled with dry ink,
circling eagles eying minds,
reading words hidden from me.

breathing slowly, desperately high,
slithering away, absorbing heat,
burning sun, watching it pour.

wailing away clenching frozen fists,
waking dazed, the pulsing moon,
overpowers.

desperately happy

2008-08-11T20:34:00.005+05:30

i think i am desperate to feel happy, i think many of us are. in this desperation forget why and when i feel happy and in this blindness i hit upon walls i know will not break or even crack. im trying to help out a bunch of retarded kids, im trying to talk sense with people i hate talking to, making excuses to eat food that is pathetic just ecause your lazy to complain and rally to get people to complain , im trying to be happy all the time by running way from things that sadden me, that make it harder to sleep when my eyes are closed.
im trying my best to put of questions i dont like dealing with, im lost and its like i like the feeling of being lost in some wilderness with out any hope of being found and in fact hoping not to be found, almost hiding. this makes me happy.. the state of being unknown.. i think.
infact im so good at running away that i dont even feel sleepless when i close my eyes and try thinking about all the things im running away from, and gaining hella lotta distance from them. i sigh and that's about the end of all the thoughts that wrestle and try to bring me down and put in some sense into my head. its easy.
im nice and bored and im so happy to be bored.. i guess im so desperate to be happy that i can even convert boredom into happiness.. its simple.. but i dont know weather im lying to myself or not.. either way im happy with no tensions, with confidence to live my life to the moment, confident that the future will be dealt with.
im worried that i dont have any problem to solve, that im almost content to live with problems.. even small ones.. im ready to compromise because of my laziness and my willingness to stay jobless and bored.. its like the attitude i love about loosers.. the fact that they dont care about themselves.. making it comfortable to live in a gutter of rotting waste.
but i think im not so much of a looser.. long way to go actually.. im just not committed to any thing.. i think it takes loaaadsa guts to back something to the end.. i feel much more light headed and free to be irresponsible and stupid?(perhaps sometimes). i hate responsibility of anything and anyone but mine.. i like relationships where im free to be rude and truthful.. knowing that the other person is not really too affected by what i say or do.. i like to be thoda alone in any kind of relationship..
i really think that when we trust someone, we dont trust in them our secrets or our emotions or our stupidity and vices but we give them the right to hurt us.. this right is way too often misused and taken for granted.. there was a time when id give this right to people, many people, priding on the fact that i can live my life as an open book, but the truth is i dislike people i dont know, and i dont like to get to know people.. which invariably means i dont trust most people.. makes life so much easier to live :D
im now goin to do cheap publicity for the movie "the fountain". watch it.

haan i also feel i crack too many pjs when i have nothing to say.. i think people who dont know me or spent time with me get irritated very easily.. i musnt crack too many pjs in front of strangers.. but aaah its too hard and too useful.

its such a hard decision to make weather i want to care for someone or not, weather i want to feel the pain for someelse, so that they feel better, weather i want to lift the boulder for them, weather i want to notice their lives and make they happy, genuinely, hoping to be loved the same way, knowing their virtues and vices and still supporting them.

i am still thinking weather i want to form a bond with the retarded kids, knowing that in the end all im going to get is pain, weather i want to feel the pain, knowing that i cant in anyway make them happier or their lives easier to live. knowing that what i teach would effect trees and sand more than them.. yet i feel the urge to help them, help people trying to help them, and be a part of the stupidity just to feel more human, desperate to feel the happiness of seeing one of them learn, desperate to find satisfaction is doin something hopeless.

aah.. i think im goin to like the pain of failing, and see any kind of hope shattered. sometimes the thorn that makes the deepest cut is the most loved.

carborundum

2008-07-10T15:55:00.006+05:30

shantaram a good story but thats that.. all that philosophy he jaadhofys is utter rubbish and nerve recking.. and infact i get so bored reading the book sometimes i start figuring out what part of the story is real and what part is fake.. that really keeps me interested in the book other than the story.. at the end of every chapter he summarizes it talks all wannabe deep stuff.. the book could do well rid of all that.. hes not good at all that jazz.. about soul and river flowing through all of us and how indians are so happy living in india, about how everything is an illusion, about god and about loneliness and being wanted(ok that part is bearable).
its a wonderful genre ofcourse, semi-autobiographical but the sincerity in the story made up is so missing.. its very easy to see the difference between the things hes made up and things that made him, some parts of the book i just felt he was being this big phony too.
anyway, i dont like anything, my favorite passtime is to find things to dislike, so dont fight with me over the book even if you love it, i suggest you nod and go away.

and now i havta go back to Rourkela, im too used being lazy and not doing anything and not picking up phone calls and rudely telling people i wont join them for a movie or lunch.. im going to miss all of that. its been one long holiday and very uneventful one.. which makes it very special.

i keep feeling scared that ill be forced to change and become more affable, and compromising when ill start earning and all. you know this is one crazy time in my life where i can smell thoda freedom.. freedom in hating everything that is substandard, freedom to speak at will and be rude, freedom to criticize openly and say things people dont want to hear, its all because i dont care.. but once someone pays me little by little i loose that freedom to be nasty, because ill care about the money and the interesting thing will be to see how much i sacrifice and for how long to get what i want.

if there is some job i can do real well it is to figure out all the bad stuff about anything, i wont be a critic.. a critic may tell something good.. id like a job where i can just figure out bad stuff.. that would be fun and autonomous.

sometimes i wonder if it takes courage to do something real stupid once you know it is stupid. i can go to give examples.. but ill skip that (read this months readers digest, the article about great Olympians).. but then i guess its either about priorities or about good ol' not thinking before acting.

Pinky

2008-06-29T21:50:00.006+05:30

i dont like to admit that i like someone, i dont admit easily to them and neither do i tell others that i like someone. when sunaina asked me to write a post about her as her birthday gift, i was confused.. i went on to think why would she want a post from me.. did she want to know what i was thought about her or did she just want someone to write about her, or did she want to be a little harder to be forgotten. well turns out she wanted a birthday gift thats all and birthday gift on her birthday from a friend.

i thought i found someone i'd like when i spoke to pinky.. she disagrees with me a lot.. i like it when someone disagrees with you, reasons it out with you, but doesnt try to change me. thats what i liked about her right in the start.. i can write stuff about how i started speakin to her n all that jazz.. but ill skip that.. i feel like writing sense.

i wanted her to like me and accept me as a friend.. to confide in me.. to let me help her.. she did, i guess but i never took it seriously.. i thought her problems were frivolous and i made jokes about them( i dint want her to think she was important to me or that i treasured the fact that she trusted me.. forgive me pinky.. forgive me) .. now i know i was wrong.. small things may not be important to me but they were to her, its because of the kind of person she is.. she believes that people are good.. that her friends are good. though i disapprove of that belief i can respect it.. its these beliefs that make her what she is. and i like her for what she is.

i remember one day i told her shes boring and keeps complaining.. she went over the roof that night.. she called me shallow, stupid and almost accused me of being a phony. i dint like that but at the end of the conversation i felt kind of happy to be the person on whom she vent out her frustration.. she dint tell me what exactly set it off.. she never does.

i guess im a friend of hers.. i never let myself belief that.. i start expecting then.. i guess im her friend because she takes me for granted.. shes rather frank with me.. that sometimes i sense notes of happiness in her tone, the kind one person feels when they are wanted.. i like to feel that happiness too.. a feeling of being wanted.. but rarely feel it.. i feel it now though.

she is a nice person, what i dont like about her is that she keeps telling me shes not capable.. she doesnt write good poetry.. says shes not good with studies.. she must believe in herself, no one will if she wont.. i will though.. i have a knack of finding talent :P

she told me about how she lost her parents even before she could tell them she loved them, i found it hard to look past the tragedy.. and the pain.. and i tried to relate her behavior and her being to the death of her parents but i was surprised to learn that she has her own identity and she has wonderful strength and courage to be herself even when she is not protected from the world. that i admire.. i often wonder how she'd be if her parents were alive.. i believe she would be just as wonderful and strong.

she laughs hysterically at the stupid things i say.. sometimes i feel a great deal of excitement and try makin her laugh more.. i sometimes feel thats my whole reason for talkin to her.. to make her laugh.. but then again i hope there is something more to all my phone bills. yes there is.. i dump my rather uninteresting talk about how i used to struggle to like and then landed up ending my struggle but stoppin to like people at all.. she listens.. gets confused.. blames me, and tells me somethings i dont remember now.. the point is i never had a problem with not liking people but sometimes i found it weird that everyone liked people.. but i dunno.. the things she said made sense to me.. i dont remember what she said though.. :(

she always get sad and hight irritated due to disappointment when she finds out that some friend whom she trusted is a phony or when some person says she writes pathetic poetry or when she is learns are her friends done some stupid thing.. its weird but i cant understand from where she gets all that strength to still expect from people and still like people and no just simply label all humans as jackasses and live with it.

she read ayn rand and liked her even though she dint agree with everything she said.. she doesnt agree that logic is the ultimate thing.. but that lets her be what she is.. its her belief system.. she stands by it even if i logically prove her wrong.. i admire that.. shes such a strongheaded person but she still makes compromises.. she chooses between what she wants and what the people who love her want, she makes sacrifices, but if she had to make the choice again she'd still choose to what she just did... its a wonderfully stable characteristic she has.. ive hardly seen her fickle minded.

she and i have shared some good moments.. some bitter ones.. but on the whole the good ones out weigh the bitter ones.. she made me special by demanding this post from me.. by showing that she wanted it from me.. i hope i made her feel special by letting her know that shes not gone unnoticed, that i respect her, that she is important to me, that she can make me happy, that i let myself be vulnerable when i speak to her, that she can hurt me.

pinky, the world sucks, but there is someone whom you can make happy, and someones waiting to make you happy.

happy birthday.

ipods now complete.

2008-06-27T15:01:00.003+05:30

my dad once asked me if id take good care of my ipod.. just before he bought it for me, i replied it would be my baby.
my dad asked me if id take good care of my laptop and i answered twas my next baby. if i have friends then my ipod and my laptop are those.. the ipod lets me connect with the only people i can relate to.. the tortured souls of nick drake, kurt cobain, syd barrett, plant, page, waters, jimi and morrison et all.
my ipod is now complete.. itunes doesnt work with my laptop.. dont know why but well so i tried some million alternatives but none of them were even close to good and dint make use of most of the ipods features.. then i used winamp with this pluggin called ml_ipod.. worked like magic.. it had had loadsa bugs when they started with it.. but by the time i started using it all roadblocks were cleared.
i spent some time nicely getting artwork so my cover flow feature looked good.
it has some featured even itunes dont have and is much easier to use than itunes and doesnt really cause great deal of trouble to your ram and the transfers speeds are heavenly.
i bought new earphones for my ipod.. i struggled to buy them.. i dint find anything like i wanted.. i bought two sony earphones and they are very good.. the ipod earphones were bad and no loud at all.
anyway, ive been listening to nick drake for sometime now.. hes really good and anyone who can use his brain should listen to him.. well most people cant use their brains.. he more like the thinkers musician.. most people find it boring and very slow.. but i find it meaningful and very very appropriate. the music and the lyrics are beautifully synchronized. many good songs have either good lyrics or good music.. most good music is coupled with horribly boring and unengaging love lyrics.. which is the best way to waste your music. most of his songs are not about love and even the ones that are about love are indeed lovely.. even i feel like being loved when i listen to them.. but he has these random songs about death and the basic struggle to live and being yourself.. his understanding of instruments is unparalleled.. i could go on but i have no intention to do so.. no ones going to listen to him anyway.. your goin to find him boring only.
most people like nirvana for nevermind.. but i think there best album is beach.. love the album.. its so raw and unadultrated.. it has that frustration and the sense to being tortured in every note and the lyrics are awfully painful.. this song called papercuts is about feeling like a caged animal used for amusement.. its so painful to listen to kurt accept his fate and "accept his friends of ridicule". i love other songs in that album too.. his control over distortion is amazing.. his lyrics are blunt and totally sincere.. which is a very rare quality.
this world tortures true talent because it cant accept change.. it cant accept the harsh truth.. we need that bubble to live in.. we need its protection.. whod believe me if i said the two pillars of our peaceful society are hypocrisy and illusion.. all we do is churn out tons n tons of puppets who are controlled by circumstances.. its disgusting to see people so easily manipulated and influenced. i guess this is the worst way we can treat the thousand of brains on which the seven billion rotten bodies are surving. what a waste.
i haven't doen anything these hols.. i dont intent to either.. why should i do something all the time and race against time all, im happy doin nothing, it adds so much meaning to life.. really.

cats n dogs

2008-06-14T21:13:00.000+05:30

i like cats more than dogs because they do their own hunting.. dogs depend on people to feed them.. either directly or from the garbage.. cats hunt.. cats take whatever they can.

nolan

2008-06-04T13:24:00.003+05:30

i have been watching a lot of movies lately.. n i have come to like nolan and tarantino a lot.
both assume that all people are evil and no one is even close to the kind of selfless heroes we know , which is a good assumption to make and i make it myself :D
ive seen 3 nolan movies and in both memento and the prestige there is no real good person overpowering a evil guy kinda bullshit.. because face it.. it never happens :P
though both the stories could have been manipulated a little to lead to a situation where there could have been heroes, nolan avoids and delivers the audience a good surprise.. i had no clue about the suspense in memento but then i can pretty close in the prestige.. i figuered that many hugh jackmans were created, and that no one had killed him.. but the story is very good indeed and very rewarding.

i always loved magic.. and its true i never wanted to know the trick.. its funny but it all works because we want to be tricked.. but just like any other profession.. its filled with ugliness. another thing very good about the movie is the character sketching.. alfred borden is so determined and has just magic in his life.. thats all there is to him.. wonderful character really, his greatest magic trick was his life.. wonderful na?

i dint write this very well.

2008-05-29T18:51:00.001+05:30

oh how the world killed my ernesto.

lark

2008-05-23T16:46:00.002+05:30

Skyward,
mouthing polluted wind -
weeding moon above grey veins,
thrashing battle pennant bones
above a once proud clan.

2008-04-21T23:14:00.002+05:30

i found out that i hate having to do things i dont want to or like to do.. and the funny thing is when im forced to it, i do the work but half heartedly.. now for the reason why this is funny.. i do it half heartedly cos i hold a grudge against the person who is forcing me to do the thing i hate.. n since i hold a grudge against him i must not and will not let him see my full potential and my ability to do things.

i have seen that im good at almost anything i do.. even if i dont like it.. my basic pillar is laziness.. im very lazy and choose lazing over almost anything else.. so when im pushed to work.. i do it as fast as i can.. which means i hvta to it pretty well.. cos not doin it well may lead to having to do it again.. n thus i get to laze again once im done with the work.
i value the time i get to laze away.. but goin to back to what i wanted to say.. i hate letting ppl noe im talented at something i dont like doin.. but i have too much of an ego not to do it well even if i try it half heartedly..
its weird and unusually perhaps.. but really at the end of the day nothing really matters too much to me.. i dont care about most ppl.. and now im immune to anything ppl do or say.. i absolutely hate ppl and make make only circumstantial frnds.. ppl who are around me all the time will become frnds with me so long they stay near me.. dats all.. sometimes i try keepin in touch with ppl.. but i do get drained.. but i have seen it reward me too.. but only very rarely.. ppl are usually just junk.

i realised that im unmotivated.

2008-03-14T19:44:00.004+05:30

now pri really wanted to read wat id write.. so this might not be the truth..though ill try.

Life Ten Years Ago:
10 years back i was 8.. eight means 5th std.. this was the 1st time i had was taken to my principal for searchin and showin the meaning of "fuck"..lol.
anyway 10 years back i played a lot.. i vent to school regularly.. hardly spent time with my parents.. went off to sleep at 10pm sharp and came back from play at 8pm and i knew the time weather i wore a watch or not.. i sucked at math but kicked ass in other subjects :D
i was very studies oriented.. i made frnds only with ppl who got more marks dan me or ran faster dan me.. this was also the year that i ran almost as fast as abhay.. he is legendary :D
i realised dat i was very very good with words and could kickass with my mouth and also ran fast enough to tell anything to anyone and get away with it.
i dint like girls at all.. i used to get teased with some gals though.. i hated them and never spoke much to them.. but there was this gal who always got the 1st rank and the teacher made us sit 1 guy 1 gal on the bench.. so dat gal n sat together..but then the teacher changed her mind n made another gal sit next to me.
i cried. like crazy.. lol.. i dint likt her or anything.. just dat i cunt sit next to the 1st ranker.. but then i horribly guilty cos the other gal who was sittin next to me felt bad cos i dint want to sit with her :S
this was also the year i had this horrible geo teacher who hit a lotta ppl and made a frnd of mine hit ppl too.. and she dictated notes very very fast and scrwed u if the notes ver not neat.. guess dats why i write so fast even now.
i also learned writin in short hand :D
we had two gangs in our colony..lol.. we fought a lot with stones and all the wwf moves we knew.. loadsa bones broke before the parents intervened.
i also hit a guy on his head with a bat for callin my then best frnd a blackie. Got into major deep trouble for it.. but made one great frnd :)
10 years back i knew i was the smartest in my foyer and that i needed to work harder to beat them all.. but even that time i rmbr thinkin wat id do if i won everything.
i guess 10 years not long enuf to change.
oh ya this was also the time a guy told me stuff about sex.. i cunt believe dat my parents did it for me. and also spent time wonderin why ppl dint just unzip and do watever they wanted to do.. why did they hvta sleep naked?

Life Five Years Ago:
5 years ago i was 13.. i entered my teenage and my dad loved me for not throwing tantrums like my sis..lol. i fought like crazy with my sis.. loved irritating and was a true sadist :(
i also realised that i cant really like anyone enough to miss them.. and felt real bad that i wanted my dad to return for the his trips to foreign countries cos he bought me gifts.
i was still in the same school.. and i started liking gals but i also knew i dint want to spend all my time on one gal.
i was still very good at studies but i hated it now.

Life Tomorrow:
watch as many movies as i can.. to make up for the fact that i dont read enuf.. listen to as many songs i can and make a nice songbook too. i want sleep and food without having to work at all!
id like to like something a lot.. really.

Five Locations I Would Love To Run Away To:

1. hmnm moon.. alone away from humans.. paradise :D
2. greenland for the fjords
3. taj mahal/ pyramids.. the most beautiful graves
4. my granmas home in madras.. this where i spent all my summers when i was young..
loved playing with the ants.
5. baluchistan has the biggest illegal gun market :D

Five Bad Habits I Have:
1. i procrastinate a lot :P
2. i dont have one opinion or rigid thought from which i can build other opinions.
3. i dont like any one thing soo much that all other things seem trivial.
4. i find it hard to accept that ive made a mistake.
5. i make too much fun of people.

Five Biggest Joys At This Moment:
songbook :D :D

Something to Achieve By Next Year:

hmnm dunno really.. just survivin at rourkela wud be enough.
Something that Impacted Me Last Year:

using the camera during the boards.. highest level of ecstasy and enjoyment ive ever felt

What I Will Miss About 2007:
hated the year.. was the worst year.. did badly in allll the xams i wrote.. felt dumb for once :(.. so ill miss not missing 2007!
yeah.
Five Things I Want To Do Before I Die:
see im uselessly unmotivated... but still if i cud id like to write for some newspaper.. play with loadsa kids..fall in love.. exhibit in some photography exhibition.. make a movie :D

rare.

2008-03-09T00:41:00.003+05:30

http://www.flickr.com/photos/51915435@N00/2319244838

inquisitive and peaceful.

Nail

2008-03-05T01:31:00.001+05:30

love the look on the girls face..seems like a wonderful contrast to the situation.
i read a lot of comics these days.. this ones from Nail.

help yourself :D
http://blackbox.j-chaos.net/comics
http://unearthlyheight.com/uploads/comics/

fear or laziness?

2008-03-03T00:22:00.002+05:30

i just listened to one anime's stating credits song and loved it.
anyway thats bein playin in my head as i type this out.
for the last 4-5 mnths ive felt that there is a great difference between people who archive and people who dont, about how we just add zeros and zeros to this world and go to the extent of eliminating the 1s thru our wonderful gift of education, but this post is not about education.
i believe that the difference between an advanced thinking human brain and an average human brain is far more than the difference between a chimpanzee and the avg human brain and that thinker and the artist who have reached the realm of their true spirit, who are engaged the the activity of thinking and thriving.
our civilization has been adding endless amounts zeros in this world of ours.. it makes me wonder why are there so few 1s or even lesser 1s in front of zeros becos i also believe that hard work can take you places and that Einstein and i are only different because he worked harder than me to understand and observe what was left unanswered.
this brings me to another question, that which is very near to the answers to the questions i raised both in this post and the last one.. which is the most influential human character.. fear or laziness.
which is the mighty inhibitor.. fear to commit and work towards a goal or the disinterest to do it.. though i think that if you do have interest you'd be more than willing to work hard and do something, but that still does not completely answer the question.. because you can certainly have interest but the unwillingness to commit and believe in yourself.
laziness is a choice made.. when your lazy to do math.. you choose the couch or the lappy to math.. its pretty fair to tell that that choice was conscious too and that you simply dont like it.
it i guess is a dead end.. it could be both fear and laziness or one could be the outcome of another.

i dont know.. this thing has kept me busy.. buts kinda like a dead end. :S

Redemption

2008-02-08T00:21:00.000+05:30

we all have a place where we go to ask for forgiveness.. to escape from the world.. to feel alive.. to feel freedom and to see the colors of the rainbow.. to have a conversation.. to feel understood.. to understand.. to find someone.
most times i spend this time alone.. knowing and sometimes feeling sure that i wont be understood.. i wont find anyone and mostly confirming this belief.. and sometimes i justify this belief.
for sometime i found redemption in the setting sun..and in the floating clouds.. and the wonder of nature which controlled both in perfect harmony.
for a time i found peace among the ants.. seeing them struggle and carry the huge pieces of sugar id throw upon them.
for a time i spoke to chubbix and still do.. trying hard to battle the feeling of emptiness and trying to fill the void of regret and wastage.
nowadays i go to this leprosy colony kids.. they laugh and play and i laugh and play and it eases me out.. i feel more understood and the whole of the worlds problems seem simple and insignificant. the kids enjoy my company and i enjoy theirs.
i realised that an easy way to gauge a persons intelligence and his ability to think by figuring out the thing that engages him and his mind. its simple and so far it has always worked.. if you can show me what engages you.. i can very well make out if we'd get along well.. so now my latest hobby has been to search for random but interesting things and find out if they engage anyone.. lol.. its kinda good tp.. :P
anyway i also figured out that i converse mostly to feel understood and to find a kindred whole can converse back with me at the same level and fill in my blank spaces or take me to another dimension in the same topic.. to open my door of perception and in return i open theirs at times.. now im woefully outta company to do this.. and hence its highly irritating not to find anyone to converse with.. infact im so disillusioned by crowd dat i guess ive given up on them..i mean even of the entire crowd wud do something id like..id still run away from it.. i dont believe in them.. even if they can pull of something spectacular..im rather uninterested in crowds.. so i ran way from my crowd in rourkela.. i came back to mumbai for like 4 days :D
twas quite a story how we got the tickets and all.. to put it simply..twas some eventful hostel life :P
yes back to conversations and crowds.. so now i mostly just crack sad pjs one after another disgusting myself and ppl around me.. and make myself feel miserable after a session of fake unrelished laughters n all.. the point is why.. why do i hvta talk..why is it so hard to converse without words..why is the language of understanding so one dimensional and feelingness.. why cant anyone understand my emotions or sensitives without my words.. why is art so neglected dat it is embrassing to speak of.. why is modern thought of as a junkyard and not some canvas of great emotions and wonderfully well understood feelings..why are colors and words so differently judged and so differently rated.. and the vice versa.. why isnt math or physics considered a form of expression and related to art and philosophy.. why is there a great divide between art and science and math and languages.
are they all not forms of the mind and perceptions of the world.. do they all not originate from thought?
do they not?

syd barrett

2008-01-29T19:09:00.000+05:30

my mind has been working overtime these days to keep me away from my own life that i believe im wasting here in the midst of people i cant get along with unless i drain myself out of excuses to acknowledge their existence.. my only ally seems to be my ability to forget things and get along without pausing over issues.

anyway i have decided to write about Kurt Cobain for his birthday on 20th February. But before that i want to write about Pink floyd for now that i appreciate their music as it seems to have the same structure as my life, an unachieved ecstasy.
the songs Syd wrote are distinctly different from those that were written by floyd later on. Syd's music is unique and it has the quality of experimenting and of reaching high notes which by itself give me a overpowering sensation of an overdrive, of an ecstasy but just as i search for every song to reach its climax and give me that which i seek from the music at that moment, it fails me and gives me a new direction of unheard sounds and beautiful feeling in the head.. it takes me to a land where im surrounded by sounds i have never heard before.. and every sound i hear is unique and of the kind i wont hear again but for which i crave.

that is a unique sensation only floyd offers me.. the music has certain meaning and certain randomness.. it will make u follow the music in search of a meaning and then betray you with a smirk.. almost like it predicted your thoughts and lead to you the meaning you searched just to betray you.
it takes you to a height and then leaves you for a free fall.. that my dear, is ecstasy.
Syd is dead, and with him it took away the music only he could make.

Futile.

2008-01-13T23:47:00.000+05:30

if this is living then what is dying?

Lets do fraandsheep.

2008-01-09T11:50:00.000+05:30

i dont keep fee bad..infact this year ive been extra happy seein the prospects of the new year.. i ahve 12mnths free with prolly 2 weeks of studies.. its quite a relief toknow that i can touch 8 without much effort :D or atleast without much sacrifice on my part :D
y that they have seen
anyway i just saw that my roomie has bought a dvd.. it had 5 movies.. some scary movies n all.. it caught my attention when i saw that it was sold by babloo entertainments.. in Hindi.

quite a pity that my roomie and his friends can now claim that they have seen some of the most crowd pulling hollywood movies.. and can even discuss the storyline with others.. but what a way to ruin the movie and its appeal.

so suddenly it sunk into me where i have come to.. its a nice new naive experience but then again for how long am i not goin to mind it.. and when is it going to get on my nerves and when is it goin to get me. I dont know.. but its not goin to be very soon.. you know i have been thinkin about it and i realized that i dont have a great choice of frnds here..i mean if i had to choose anyone from here to be my frnd..id rather not choose anyone.. n then i was quick to understand that i dont trust people as such at all.. its crazy but i dont let somethings out not matter what.. i dont know why..its npt imp or anything..its mostly to avoid embarrassment or to avoid having to give some dumbass explianation but then again id feel sick if noone asked..lol
so i want some kinda attention.. but u noe if someone gave me that kinda attention and really liked me id take them for granted.. :S
now its gettin interesting.
so id like someone to give me attention and expect stuff from me.. but then it shunt be too much or too lil.. and i shunt feel it a burden anytime. yikes. they must be smarter than me and shud lecture me often but again the lectures shud not be like normal lectures but shud be given to me when im not expectin it.. and again they must not tell me stuff i know..haaaw.
also i dont trust people for trivial reasons only genrally.. basically having to explain.. i hate explainin but again i hate it when someone can read me very well.. so i guess a relation wud never grow too much or id change thru the realtion :S
gwad this is getting real messy now.
so i havnt got anyone really.. and i guess soon ill loose hope of finding someone who can understand me well..infact i havnt met anyone like me at all.. id like to meet another raghu to see if id like him..but its most likely i wont like him..hed be too corny n all.. and we'd get into constants fights n all.. we'd clash like crazy.. maybe after all that initial jazz we might become great frnds..
actually another raghu wud be fun.. if hed like me hed nice take care of me n give me bhav like crazy and in return i just have to small small special things.. u noe like just want to spend time with him.. he really likes people who like spending time with him..this goes for people whom he likes or not..if anyone wants to spend time with him he really likes it..he might say no or he might act as if he dont care but in all truth he likes people who give a lil bhav :P
but he gets real suspicious if someone gives him too much bhav cos then they are getting something outta him.. without him bein able to figure out wat it is.. though once he learns the intent hes open for usage.. no probs on that.. load nahi letha :D
ok so thats some kinda non deep description for the kinda guy/gal id like to spend time with.. but then ive found many a nice things in many a folks but never all things da.. so anyway.. for now its just a crazy cocktail of people
and himself and chubbix that he lives on..haha .. :D

oh ya this year has been great :D or im being overoptimistic :S

Affection :P

2008-01-04T01:51:00.001+05:30

love sinfest.
http://www.sinfest.net/

The Comprachicos by Victor Hugo.

2007-12-23T21:40:00.000+05:30

THE COMPRACHICOS.

I.

Who now knows the word Comprachicos, and who knows its meaning?

The Comprachicos, or Comprapequeños, were a hideous and nondescript
association of wanderers, famous in the 17th century, forgotten in the
18th, unheard of in the 19th. The Comprachicos are like the "succession
powder," an ancient social characteristic detail. They are part of old
human ugliness. To the great eye of history, which sees everything
collectively, the Comprachicos belong to the colossal fact of slavery.
Joseph sold by his brethren is a chapter in their story. The
Comprachicos have left their traces in the penal laws of Spain and
England. You find here and there in the dark confusion of English laws
the impress of this horrible truth, like the foot-print of a savage in a
forest.

Comprachicos, the same as Comprapequeños, is a compound Spanish word
signifying Child-buyers.

The Comprachicos traded in children. They bought and sold them. They did
not steal them. The kidnapping of children is another branch of
industry. And what did they make of these children?

Monsters.

Why monsters?

To laugh at.

The populace must needs laugh, and kings too. The mountebank is wanted
in the streets, the jester at the Louvre. The one is called a Clown, the
other a Fool.

The efforts of man to procure himself pleasure are at times worthy of
the attention of the philosopher.

What are we sketching in these few preliminary pages? A chapter in the
most terrible of books; a book which might be entitled-- The farming of
the unhappy by the happy .

II.

A child destined to be a plaything for men--such a thing has existed;
such a thing exists even now. In simple and savage times such a thing
constituted an especial trade. The 17th century, called the great
century, was of those times. It was a century very Byzantine in tone. It
combined corrupt simplicity with delicate ferocity--a curious variety of
civilization. A tiger with a simper. Madame de Sevigné minces on the
subject of the fagot and the wheel. That century traded a good deal in
children. Flattering historians have concealed the sore, but have
divulged the remedy, Vincent de Paul.

In order that a human toy should succeed, he must be taken early. The
dwarf must be fashioned when young. We play with childhood. But a
well-formed child is not very amusing; a hunchback is better fun.

Hence grew an art. There were trainers who took a man and made him an
abortion; they took a face and made a muzzle; they stunted growth; they
kneaded the features. The artificial production of teratological cases
had its rules. It was quite a science--what one can imagine as the
antithesis of orthopedy. Where God had put a look, their art put a
squint; where God had made harmony, they made discord; where God had
made the perfect picture, they re-established the sketch; and, in the
eyes of connoisseurs, it was the sketch which was perfect. They debased
animals as well; they invented piebald horses. Turenne rode a piebald
horse. In our own days do they not dye dogs blue and green? Nature is
our canvas. Man has always wished to add something to God's work. Man
retouches creation, sometimes for better, sometimes for worse. The Court
buffoon was nothing but an attempt to lead back man to the monkey. It
was a progress the wrong way. A masterpiece in retrogression. At the
same time they tried to make a man of the monkey. Barbara, Duchess of
Cleveland and Countess of Southampton, had a marmoset for a page.
Frances Sutton, Baroness Dudley, eighth peeress in the bench of barons,
had tea served by a baboon clad in cold brocade, which her ladyship
called My Black. Catherine Sedley, Countess of Dorchester, used to go
and take her seat in Parliament in a coach with armorial bearings,
behind which stood, their muzzles stuck up in the air, three Cape
monkeys in grand livery. A Duchess of Medina-Celi, whose toilet Cardinal
Pole witnessed, had her stockings put on by an orang-outang. These
monkeys raised in the scale were a counterpoise to men brutalized and
bestialized. This promiscuousness of man and beast, desired by the
great, was especially prominent in the case of the dwarf and the dog.
The dwarf never quitted the dog, which was always bigger than himself.
The dog was the pair of the dwarf; it was as if they were coupled with a
collar. This juxtaposition is authenticated by a mass of domestic
records--notably by the portrait of Jeffrey Hudson, dwarf of Henrietta
of France, daughter of Henri IV., and wife of Charles I.

To degrade man tends to deform him. The suppression of his state was
completed by disfigurement. Certain vivisectors of that period succeeded
marvellously well in effacing from the human face the divine effigy.
Doctor Conquest, member of the Amen Street College, and judicial visitor
of the chemists' shops of London, wrote a book in Latin on this
pseudo-surgery, the processes of which he describes. If we are to
believe Justus of Carrickfergus, the inventor of this branch of surgery
was a monk named Avonmore--an Irish word signifying Great River.

The dwarf of the Elector Palatine, Perkeo, whose effigy--or
ghost--springs from a magical box in the cave of Heidelberg, was a
remarkable specimen of this science, very varied in its applications. It
fashioned beings the law of whose existence was hideously simple: it
permitted them to suffer, and commanded them to amuse.

III.

The manufacture of monsters was practised on a large scale, and
comprised various branches.

The Sultan required them, so did the Pope; the one to guard his women,
the other to say his prayers. These were of a peculiar kind, incapable
of reproduction. Scarcely human beings, they were useful to
voluptuousness and to religion. The seraglio and the Sistine Chapel
utilized the same species of monsters; fierce in the former case, mild
in the latter.

They knew how to produce things in those days which are not produced
now; they had talents which we lack, and it is not without reason that
some good folk cry out that the decline has come. We no longer know how
to sculpture living human flesh; this is consequent on the loss of the
art of torture. Men were once virtuosi in that respect, but are so no
longer; the art has become so simplified that it will soon disappear
altogether. In cutting the limbs of living men, in opening their bellies
and in dragging out their entrails, phenomena were grasped on the moment
and discoveries made. We are obliged to renounce these experiments now,
and are thus deprived of the progress which surgery made by aid of the
executioner.

The vivisection of former days was not limited to the manufacture of
phenomena for the market-place, of buffoons for the palace (a species of
augmentative of the courtier), and eunuchs for sultans and popes. It
abounded in varieties. One of its triumphs was the manufacture of cocks
for the king of England.

It was the custom, in the palace of the kings of England, to have a sort
of watchman, who crowed like a cock. This watcher, awake while all
others slept, ranged the palace, and raised from hour to hour the cry of
the farmyard, repeating it as often as was necessary, and thus supplying
a clock. This man, promoted to be cock, had in childhood undergone the
operation of the pharynx, which was part of the art described by Dr.
Conquest. Under Charles II. the salivation inseparable to the operation
having disgusted the Duchess of Portsmouth, the appointment was indeed
preserved, so that the splendour of the crown should not be tarnished,
but they got an unmutilated man to represent the cock. A retired officer
was generally selected for this honourable employment. Under James II.
the functionary was named William Sampson, Cock, and received for his
crow £9, 2s. 6d. annually.

The memoirs of Catherine II. inform us that at St. Petersburg, scarcely
a hundred years since, whenever the czar or czarina was displeased with
a Russian prince, he was forced to squat down in the great antechamber
of the palace, and to remain in that posture a certain number of days,
mewing like a cat, or clucking like a sitting hen, and pecking his food
from the floor.

These fashions have passed away; but not so much, perhaps, as one might
imagine. Nowadays, courtiers slightly modify their intonation in
clucking to please their masters. More than one picks up from the
ground--we will not say from the mud--what he eats.

It is very fortunate that kings cannot err. Hence their contradictions
never perplex us. In approving always, one is sure to be always
right--which is pleasant. Louis XIV. would not have liked to see at
Versailles either an officer acting the cock, or a prince acting the
turkey. That which raised the royal and imperial dignity in England and
Russia would have seemed to Louis the Great incompatible with the crown
of St. Louis. We know what his displeasure was when Madame Henriette
forgot herself so far as to see a hen in a dream--which was, indeed, a
grave breach of good manners in a lady of the court. When one is of the
court, one should not dream of the courtyard. Bossuet, it may be
remembered, was nearly as scandalized as Louis XIV.

IV.

The commerce in children in the 17th century, as we have explained, was
connected with a trade. The Comprachicos engaged in the commerce, and
carried on the trade. They bought children, worked a little on the raw
material, and resold them afterwards.

The venders were of all kinds: from the wretched father, getting rid of
his family, to the master, utilizing his stud of slaves. The sale of men
was a simple matter. In our own time we have had fighting to maintain
this right. Remember that it is less than a century ago since the
Elector of Hesse sold his subjects to the King of England, who required
men to be killed in America. Kings went to the Elector of Hesse as we go
to the butcher to buy meat. The Elector had food for powder in stock,
and hung up his subjects in his shop. Come buy; it is for sale. In
England, under Jeffreys, after the tragical episode of Monmouth, there
were many lords and gentlemen beheaded and quartered. Those who were
executed left wives and daughters, widows and orphans, whom James II.
gave to the queen, his wife. The queen sold these ladies to William
Penn. Very likely the king had so much per cent. on the transaction. The
extraordinary thing is, not that James II. should have sold the women,
but that William Penn should have bought them. Penn's purchase is
excused, or explained, by the fact that having a desert to sow with men,
he needed women as farming implements.

Her Gracious Majesty made a good business out of these ladies. The young
sold dear. We may imagine, with the uneasy feeling which a complicated
scandal arouses, that probably some old duchesses were thrown in cheap.

The Comprachicos were also called the Cheylas, a Hindu word, which
conveys the image of harrying a nest.

For a long time the Comprachicos only partially concealed themselves.
There is sometimes in the social order a favouring shadow thrown over
iniquitous trades, in which they thrive. In our own day we have seen an
association of the kind in Spain, under the direction of the ruffian
Ramon Selles, last from 1834 to 1866, and hold three provinces under
terror for thirty years--Valencia, Alicante, and Murcia.

Under the Stuarts, the Comprachicos were by no means in bad odour at
court. On occasions they were used for reasons of state. For James II.
they were almost an instrumentum regni . It was a time when families,
which were refractory or in the way, were dismembered; when a descent
was cut short; when heirs were suddenly suppressed. At times one branch
was defrauded to the profit of another. The Comprachicos had a genius
for disfiguration which recommended them to state policy. To disfigure
is better than to kill. There was, indeed, the Iron Mask, but that was a
mighty measure. Europe could not be peopled with iron masks, while
deformed tumblers ran about the streets without creating any surprise.
Besides, the iron mask is removable; not so the mask of flesh. You are
masked for ever by your own flesh--what can be more ingenious? The
Comprachicos worked on man as the Chinese work on trees. They had their
secrets, as we have said; they had tricks which are now lost arts. A
sort of fantastic stunted thing left their hands; it was ridiculous and
wonderful. They would touch up a little being with such skill that its
father could not have known it. Et que méconnaîtrait l'oeil même de son
père , as Racine says in bad French. Sometimes they left the spine
straight and remade the face. They unmarked a child as one might unmark
a pocket-handkerchief. Products, destined for tumblers, had their joints
dislocated in a masterly manner--you would have said they had been
boned. Thus gymnasts were made.

Not only did the Comprachicos take away his face from the child, they
also took away his memory. At least they took away all they could of it;
the child had no consciousness of the mutilation to which he had been
subjected. This frightful surgery left its traces on his countenance,
but not on his mind. The most he could recall was that one day he had
been seized by men, that next he had fallen asleep, and then that he had
been cured. Cured of what? He did not know. Of burnings by sulphur and
incisions by the iron he remembered nothing. The Comprachicos deadened
the little patient by means of a stupefying powder which was thought to
be magical, and suppressed all pain. This powder has been known from
time immemorial in China, and is still employed there in the present
day. The Chinese have been beforehand with us in all our
inventions--printing, artillery, aerostation, chloroform. Only the
discovery which in Europe at once takes life and birth, and becomes a
prodigy and a wonder, remains a chrysalis in China, and is preserved in
a deathlike state. China is a museum of embryos.

Since we are in China, let us remain there a moment to note a
peculiarity. In China, from time immemorial, they have possessed a
certain refinement of industry and art. It is the art of moulding a
living man. They take a child, two or three years old, put him in a
porcelain vase, more or less grotesque, which is made without top or
bottom, to allow egress for the head and feet. During the day the vase
is set upright, and at night is laid down to allow the child to sleep.
Thus the child thickens without growing taller, filling up with his
compressed flesh and distorted bones the reliefs in the vase. This
development in a bottle continues many years. After a certain time it
becomes irreparable. When they consider that this is accomplished, and
the monster made, they break the vase. The child comes out--and, behold,
there is a man in the shape of a mug!

This is convenient: by ordering your dwarf betimes you are able to have
it of any shape you wish.

V.

James II. tolerated the Comprachicos for the good reason that he made
use of them; at least it happened that he did so more than once. We do
not always disdain to use what we despise. This low trade, an excellent
expedient sometimes for the higher one which is called state policy, was
willingly left in a miserable state, but was not persecuted. There was
no surveillance, but a certain amount of attention. Thus much might be
useful--the law closed one eye, the king opened the other.

Sometimes the king went so far as to avow his complicity. These are
audacities of monarchical terrorism. The disfigured one was marked with
the fleur-de-lis; they took from him the mark of God; they put on him
the mark of the king. Jacob Astley, knight and baronet, lord of Melton
Constable, in the county of Norfolk, had in his family a child who had
been sold, and upon whose forehead the dealer had imprinted a
fleur-de-lis with a hot iron. In certain cases in which it was held
desirable to register for some reason the royal origin of the new
position made for the child, they used such means. England has always
done us the honour to utilize, for her personal service, the
fleur-de-lis.

The Comprachicos, allowing for the shade which divides a trade from a
fanaticism, were analogous to the Stranglers of India. They lived among
themselves in gangs, and to facilitate their progress, affected somewhat
of the merry-andrew. They encamped here and there, but they were grave
and religious, bearing no affinity to other nomads, and incapable of
theft. The people for a long time wrongly confounded them with the Moors
of Spain and the Moors of China. The Moors of Spain were coiners, the
Moors of China were thieves. There was nothing of the sort about the
Comprachicos; they were honest folk. Whatever you may think of them,
they were sometimes sincerely scrupulous. They pushed open a door,
entered, bargained for a child, paid, and departed. All was done with
propriety.

They were of all countries. Under the name of Comprachicos fraternized
English, French, Castilians, Germans, Italians. A unity of idea, a unity
of superstition, the pursuit of the same calling, make such fusions. In
this fraternity of vagabonds, those of the Mediterranean seaboard
represented the East, those of the Atlantic seaboard the West. Many
Basques conversed with many Irishmen. The Basque and the Irishman
understand each other--they speak the old Punic jargon; add to this the
intimate relations of Catholic Ireland with Catholic Spain--relations
such that they terminated by bringing to the gallows in London one
almost King of Ireland, the Celtic Lord de Brany; from which resulted
the conquest of the county of Leitrim.

The Comprachicos were rather a fellowship than a tribe; rather a
residuum than a fellowship. It was all the riffraff of the universe,
having for their trade a crime. It was a sort of harlequin people, all
composed of rags. To recruit a man was to sew on a tatter.

To wander was the Comprachicos' law of existence--to appear and
disappear. What is barely tolerated cannot take root. Even in the
kingdoms where their business supplied the courts, and, on occasions,
served as an auxiliary to the royal power, they were now and then
suddenly ill-treated. Kings made use of their art, and sent the artists
to the galleys. These inconsistencies belong to the ebb and flow of
royal caprice. "For such is our pleasure."

A rolling stone and a roving trade gather no moss. The Comprachicos were
poor. They might have said what the lean and ragged witch observed, when
she saw them setting fire to the stake, "Le jeu n'en vaut pas la
chandelle." It is possible, nay probable (their chiefs remaining
unknown), that the wholesale contractors in the trade were rich. After
the lapse of two centuries, it would be difficult to throw any light on
this point.

It was, as we have said, a fellowship. It had its laws, its oaths, its
formulæ--it had almost its cabala. Any one nowadays wishing to know all
about the Comprachicos need only go into Biscaya or Galicia; there were
many Basques among them, and it is in those mountains that one hears
their history. To this day the Comprachicos are spoken of at Oyarzun, at
Urbistondo, at Leso, at Astigarraga. Aguardate niño, que voy a llamar
al Comprachicos --Take care, child, or I'll call the Comprachicos--is
the cry with which mothers frighten their children in that country.

The Comprachicos, like the Zigeuner and the Gipsies, had appointed
places for periodical meetings. From time to time their leaders
conferred together. In the seventeenth century they had four principal
points of rendezvous: one in Spain--the pass of Pancorbo; one in
Germany--the glade called the Wicked Woman, near Diekirsch, where there
are two enigmatic bas-reliefs, representing a woman with a head and a
man without one; one in France--the hill where was the colossal statue
of Massue-la-Promesse in the old sacred wood of Borvo Tomona, near
Bourbonne les Bains; one in England--behind the garden wall of William
Challoner, Squire of Gisborough in Cleveland, Yorkshire, behind the
square tower and the great wing which is entered by an arched door.

VI.

The laws against vagabonds have always been very rigorous in England.
England, in her Gothic legislation, seemed to be inspired with this
principle, Homo errans fera errante pejor . One of the special statutes
classifies the man without a home as "more dangerous than the asp,
dragon, lynx, or basilisk" ( atrocior aspide, dracone, lynce, et
basilico ). For a long time England troubled herself as much concerning
the gipsies, of whom she wished to be rid as about the wolves of which
she had been cleared. In that the Englishman differed from the Irishman,
who prayed to the saints for the health of the wolf, and called him "my
godfather."

English law, nevertheless, in the same way as (we have just seen) it
tolerated the wolf, tamed, domesticated, and become in some sort a dog,
tolerated the regular vagabond, become in some sort a subject. It did
not trouble itself about either the mountebank or the travelling barber,
or the quack doctor, or the peddler, or the open-air scholar, as long as
they had a trade to live by. Further than this, and with these
exceptions, the description of freedom which exists in the wanderer
terrified the law. A tramp was a possible public enemy. That modern
thing, the lounger, was then unknown; that ancient thing, the vagrant,
was alone understood. A suspicious appearance, that indescribable
something which all understand and none can define, was sufficient
reason that society should take a man by the collar. "Where do you live?
How do you get your living?" And if he could not answer, harsh penalties
awaited him. Iron and fire were in the code: the law practised the
cauterization of vagrancy.

Hence, throughout English territory, a veritable "loi des suspects" was
applicable to vagrants (who, it must be owned, readily became
malefactors), and particularly to gipsies, whose expulsion has
erroneously been compared to the expulsion of the Jews and the Moors
from Spain, and the Protestants from France. As for us, we do not
confound a battue with a persecution.

The Comprachicos, we insist, had nothing in common with the gipsies. The
gipsies were a nation; the Comprachicos were a compound of all
nations--the lees of a horrible vessel full of filthy waters. The
Comprachicos had not, like the gipsies, an idiom of their own; their
jargon was a promiscuous collection of idioms: all languages were mixed
together in their language; they spoke a medley. Like the gipsies, they
had come to be a people winding through the peoples; but their common
tie was association, not race. At all epochs in history one finds in the
vast liquid mass which constitutes humanity some of these streams of
venomous men exuding poison around them. The gipsies were a tribe; the
Comprachicos a freemasonry--a masonry having not a noble aim, but a
hideous handicraft. Finally, their religions differ--the gipsies were
Pagans, the Comprachicos were Christians, and more than that, good
Christians, as became an association which, although a mixture of all
nations, owed its birth to Spain, a devout land.

They were more than Christians, they were Catholics; they were more than
Catholics, they were Romans, and so touchy in their faith, and so pure,
that they refused to associate with the Hungarian nomads of the comitate
of Pesth, commanded and led by an old man, having for sceptre a wand
with a silver ball, surmounted by the double-headed Austrian eagle. It
is true that these Hungarians were schismatics, to the extent of
celebrating the Assumption on the 29th August, which is an abomination.

In England, so long as the Stuarts reigned, the confederation of the
Comprachicos was (for motives of which we have already given you a
glimpse) to a certain extent protected. James II., a devout man, who
persecuted the Jews and trampled out the gipsies, was a good prince to
the Comprachicos. We have seen why. The Comprachicos were buyers of the
human wares in which he was dealer. They excelled in disappearances.
Disappearances are occasionally necessary for the good of the state. An
inconvenient heir of tender age whom they took and handled lost his
shape. This facilitated confiscation; the tranfer of titles to
favourites was simplified. The Comprachicos were, moreover, very
discreet and very taciturn. They bound themselves to silence, and kept
their word, which is necessary in affairs of state. There was scarcely
an example of their having betrayed the secrets of the king. This was,
it is true, for their interest; and if the king had lost confidence in
them, they would have been in great danger. They were thus of use in a
political point of view. Moreover these artists furnished singers for
the Holy Father. The Comprachicos were useful for the Miserere of
Allegri. They were particularly devoted to Mary. All this pleased the
papistry of the Stuarts. James II. could not be hostile to holy men who
pushed their devotion to the Virgin to the extent of manufacturing
eunuchs. In 1688 there was a change of dynasty in England: Orange
supplanted Stuart. William III. replaced James II.

James II. went away to die in exile, miracles were performed on his
tomb, and his relics cured the Bishop of Autun of fistula--a worthy
recompense of the Christian virtues of the prince.

William, having neither the same ideas nor the same practices as James,
was severe to the Comprachicos. He did his best to crush out the vermin.

A statute of the early part of William and Mary's reign hit the
association of child-buyers hard. It was as the blow of a club to the
Comprachicos, who were from that time pulverized. By the terms of this
statute those of the fellowship taken and duly convicted were to be
branded with a red-hot iron, imprinting R. on the shoulder, signifying
rogue; on the left hand T, signifying thief; and on the right hand M,
signifying man-slayer. The chiefs, "supposed to be rich, although
beggars in appearance," were to be punished in the collistrigium --that
is, the pillory--and branded on the forehead with a P, besides having
their goods confiscated, and the trees in their woods rooted up. Those
who did not inform against the Comprachicos were to be punished by
confiscation and imprisonment for life, as for the crime of misprision.
As for the women found among these men, they were to suffer the
cucking-stool--this is a tumbrel, the name of which is composed of the
French word coquine , and the German stuhl . English law being endowed
with a strange longevity, this punishment still exists in English
legislation for quarrelsome women. The cucking-stool is suspended over a
river or a pond, the woman seated on it. The chair is allowed to drop
into the water, and then pulled out. This dipping of the woman is
repeated three times, "to cool her anger," says the commentator,
Chamberlayne.

now imagine The Comprachicos working on young minds, with their vicious educational system.

Black and White

2007-12-18T22:42:00.000+05:30

its the sun, a plane is flying across the sun.
if you've ever wondered why everything is not black and white and why we have colours, well this is the answer, if it were all black and white we could not make out the diffrence between the sun and the moon.

then we'd have the moon in the noon.. which wuold have been fun to watch :D

death nap, death walk.

2007-12-13T00:46:00.000+05:30

on the day we left rourkela, 30th nov, to come to mumbai, we were told that our train was running late. it was partly because a man had suicided on the tracks. there was no crowd really, atleast not enough to make out the presence of a dead man. but soon i found my way through to the dead body.. his head was missing but other than that he seemed okay.. if you know what i mean.. the intestines wernt popping n splattered or anything.. intestines can be disgusting.

he wore a red sweatshirt and white trousers. he was dark and wore a cap.. a white cap. there was hardly any blood to be seen. anyway thats not what i intend to explore now. i wonder how he felt in the last 10 seconds of his life. a life he intended to end. he laid his neck right above the track.. just so that the train would go right over his neck, cut only the neck like some knife cutting cheese.

he felt the cold, chilly metal rails peircing his skin, his last sense of touch. he smelled the scent of the wet stones on the track, his last sense of smell. he saw 500 indifferent people around him not valuing a petty life of a worthless man,before he finally closed his eyes and saw what he wanted to see, probably his dream, his life, something he loved, something he hated, he saw what he wanted to see and may be he moistened his eyes with tears. he swallowed everybit of saliva his body was going to produce, tasting it for the last time.

then he heard, through the thoughtless banter of people, a pindrop, the sound he heard before anyone else, he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach, she was coming home, oh tonight she was roaring home and so was he.

he roar gains strength and becomes louder.. there is uncertainity.. his skin feels colder than ever, the neck feels the prick of a million pins, the brain urges him to get up, every cell is revolting, then a bolt of white light passes through the annals of reason and gives him the life to be certain, to know that its the choice hes made, to reassure his brain that this death is going to be sweet, its the end.

then smiling, and with a tear in his eye, he lets the train running over him, he lets it end his life, he lets the train take away with it his last breath, the last scent, the last sight, the last thought..the one so precious.
his work is done.. he is dead. perfect.. no splattered brain or rotting intestines.. no popping eyes that show too much fear or a forceful death.. no regret, no relief.. just plain expressionless, perfect.

on seeing his body lying there seeming so utterly lifeless and dead i was reminded of kill bill. bill dies in teh movie and before he dies he readies himself for it and he walks five steps before he dies.
when he readies himself to die.. he readies himself to die.. he could not do anything with that kind of set up.. he cant go out for a stroll..he cant go to a restaurant.. he cant go to the hospital.. he is simply goin to die.. and he knows it.. and he cant change it.
its quite a wonder.. i have seen people dressed to eat, to sleep, to fight, to cry, to mourn, to do anything but die.. the scene killed me really.. tarantino is quite a genius.

and the bill walks, five steps, every step is just right, not a stroll, not a hurried death walk, not casual walk either.. just a walk to die for, a walk with complete control and composure.. the man is simply walking to die.. why cant he do it?

seems a bit rare..thats all.

love kill bill, love tarantino, love uma thurman, love david carradine, love gordon lui.
--
ok too much of death n all right? its just coincidence..im fine..really :P

Why he killed?

2007-12-07T18:46:00.000+05:30

obviously i dont know :P
but ya i guess he killed coz he wanted to be loved n all.. he was just so damn fed of bein thrown away.. of not being respected of not havin anything to hang on too.. of not being wanted..he dint like it.. he wanted to do something so that he got attention from evry1.. he wanted to be famous.. as he would put it in his suicide note.
dumb.
he dint want to be famous..he wanted attention frm ppl whom he liked.. but i guess he knew how the press wud react to him killin some random shoppers.. theyd say he was insane.. that he was lil psycho.. and all that jazz.. well..he prolly thot it needed some reason.. something a lil sane and understandable to most ppl.. lol.
really.. i wanted to kill some people is not a raeson good enough.. dats reserved for buttholes like bush :P
no seriously what wud have trigger some thing so violent and something so un-needed wud have to be something meaninglessly small.. only dumb reasons coz ur mind not to think and make ypu want to escape the state of thoughtless recklessness.
some dumbass frnd of his..or his gal frnd or sum1 wud have called him names or ignored him completely.. and dat shud have been enuf 4 him to grab a gun n go on a murderin spree.. eiks.. somethin fishy :S

ok so why did he kill himself..was he just another troubled teen?
prolly.. becos he dint want to go on and get into all the news n all.. n then havin to explain himself.. and then goin to court n then gettin sentenced..dammit so long 4 wat?
he wunt be able to enjoy life anyway..so might as well die aaram se..why the hel tax urself thru all the pain of posin 4 pictures in jail n all.. now that hes killed some dumbass shoppers its quite right dat he killed himself.
but really he need not have killed the shoppers..i bet he dint even get the time to enjoy them dyin..i bet he felt lke shit wehn they were dyin.. hella.. popat hua.
he cud have suicided in some amzing way n then he'd be famous.. famous like crazy.. or he cudda killed bush or laden or someone hugely *important*..it wud have kept him more bsy n alive for sometime...plannin n all.
or he cud have started watchin southpark..that wud have been more fun :P
oh n why are they callin it massacare?
only 10 ppl right..we dont even call jalianwala baug thing a massacre.
damn i shud start wrritin sense again :S

Angry photos

2007-11-19T22:49:00.000+05:30

using anger is difficult..ofcors.
it is mostly directed towards people.. i usually waste it.. i dont show my anger often but when i do..i really land up wastin it.
anger is a very expressive emotion.. one that i cant so easily put into words but can i can surely put into to colors or pictures or photographs.
vivid photography gives me the outlet for all my frustration,tension and anger.
the anger seems to flow out rather continously out through the pics i take. the wonderful thing about photography is the satisfaction it gives me when a well stratergised photo comes thru after 3-4 attempts.
thats bliss.
i guess that kills the anger..but ya photography is my hobby to direct anger,hate, frustration and tension.. i do feel a lot more happy and disconnected after a session with my cam.
so there you go.. all the color and abstract photography orgins from all that pebt up anger... i guess.. i guess its good..i guess you shud use your anger too :D
shadow of the fairest is also dark.
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Pain

2007-10-29T19:05:00.000+05:30

pain is the only emotion that can be felt with out much effort..which can be a very sincere feeling because it cant be shared with random people.. if it is shared.. it is rather beautiful.

pain is sincere..its very sincere..its one feeling i can directly identify and categorize.. i can understand its various intensities and help it grow.
i can feel the mark it wishes to laeve.. i can help it see that it is affecting me.. i can see that its making me grow in a different direction.
i cant feel anything so clearly and unobstructed.. when im feeling pain im not feeling anything else. its prolly natures way of tellin that i need sometime all alone.. to heal the wounds..to grow a new skin or prolly to throw away the rest of the mask i wear.

so freindly pain is that i dont blame it for dawnin upon me.. i dont thank it either.. but i do feel it..i feel it deeply.. i know it strangely.
pain is one thing all of us indentify with.. pain is the one thing many of us want to destroy becuase unknowingly it forms a part of our core.. our essential identity.. and our identity is something most of us run away form so that we can become a more integral part of something else.. some that seems rather much more fun than ourself... how we deal with our pain defines how we deal with ourself and the wolrd around us.

dumb.
pain is essentially one equaliser.. all of us are treated the same way by it.. all of us feel it.. many of us respect it.. some of us live with it.. few of us befriend it. one thing about pain is its direct..it hits us directly and thus the feeling is very correct and accurate.. thus anything creative out of it seems wonderful and complete.. its is so beatiful to see someone expressing his or her pain..
somehow pain is seen as a obstructor to happiness..bullshit.
anyway one thing really about pain is my right to feel it.. my right to cry for it.. how i respond to my pain is wholly my right and i shall exersice it. i may not respect my tears.. that hurts me.. when i dont respect something i feel so deeply.. i regret it.
other than pain and sadness and suffering are the only things we can feel genuinely and i goddamned mean it..the only thing that we can really really feel so deeply that we stop and pause and think.
think about ourself.. think about building ourself.. think about growing..think about healing our wounds and about growing a new skin or prolly about throwin away the rest of the mask we wear.

shadow of the fairest is also dark.
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check

2007-10-08T10:13:00.000+05:30

checking :D:D
shadow of the fairest is also dark.
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the Unblind.

2007-09-21T09:41:00.002+05:30

In your eyes I see the emptiness of darkness,
the deafening silence of morbid sounds,
the blind light of an unhindered sight,
the vacuum of an undead soul,
the greyness of a destroyed cloud.

the pain, the empathy, I feel is deep,
Your not blind,
Now you must see.
--
I want to see the tint of a glass glossed by a million fireflies.

Forgetful.

2007-09-13T18:54:00.000+05:30

To be calmer
To try to understand
To dwell and
Know other minds.
To remember all things
No matter how small
To catch the shapes
In blurring wheels
I cannot see.
To try to be
Wise,
Is want to be -
Part of else
Apart from
Me.
Alas,Im uninterested.

nss

2007-09-06T19:55:00.000+05:30

now that was the funnest thing ive done in some loong time.. hahah.. really.. i mean im still feeling happy about it.. almost 5 days later. gawd!
so on one not so bright sunday noon.. boys wake me from my sleep(induced great deal by medicines i had for some vague allergy i got).. n off we go into some remote part of rourkela on our cycle to leprosy colony.
i carry my mp3 player..shit scared though of bein caought by some senior..but ya i escaped :D
anyway we reached the home soon..we found some new routes n all..
the place is strange though.. obviously very strange.. no rotten leg n hands n all..noone really infected or sumthin by leprosy.. not like how they showed ben hur..luckily for me..cos i really dont like gross stuff. not that i vomit or anythin.. nor do i show any kind of disturbance..but ya later some weird night i get flashes of irky pics..nah ill avoid all that.. so no rotten legs n all..:D
we entered from some newfound backgate..which ment we reached the school(where we are supposed to teach) directly.
now noone wants to study on sunday noons.. n we dont want top teach on sunday noons.. so mutually twas diceided no studies even before we went in.
anyway as soon as we went in.. one loud voice greets us.. somethin in oriya.. but i guess it ment they've come.. watevr it meant it sounded like some lil kid was happy.
none of the kids know hindi or anything.. just one.. arun..i was the only guy who remembered him..i called him out n appointed him as translator directly :P
now he went besrkly happy n made all the kids assemble very bherry quickly.
the kids come up n say jai ram..to which i reply.. some find me too damn indimidatin..so i reak the iuce n smile.
now this smile is reaaly the language barrier breaker..all of the start laughin at me with me watver.. n there no intimidation left :P
the curious kids with round huuge eyes looked at my mp3 player n started asking stupid questions.. i thought all the ques wud be ans if i just played some music.
though they dont understan hindi.. and only one person can lissen to it at a time..all of them just started dancin ven one of them started lissenin to bandeh by indian ocean.
twas wonderful.
soon they were fightin,ofcors, fot the player.. but somehow i managed to keep most of them happy :)
n den they all started sayin multiplication tables as loud as the y damn could..it was loud n extremely rythymic.
but we got bored.. they were tellin tables i dint know properly..so we took outour cams n started takin pics.. this was gawd damn funny.. all of them come n stare right into the screen n all.. aftr like 2-3 mins we stop.. n wat happens is all of them now want to see the pics..we had taken a video.. so we we started showin the video..there was dis loud uproar..funny really.. cos they soon lost interest n went back to the mp3 player.
we just kept doin tp..i started teachin arun eng also.. all the words i like..like damn n dumbo n sky n clouds n moon n plant n water n funny n path..ya thats about it.. old him ill take a test next sunday..hehe
now the last thing we did was we taught them "tata"..dats it.. next 20 mins they are just "tata"in us..twas just wonderful.. so much was their will to say tata that they chased us for a good 200 m n kept sayin tata.bliss.really.smiles n laughet n bliss.
they have such huge eyes.. i mean like they could see the entire world.. as if the whole of the sky cud just fit in. whoa they have huge eyes.
ya so it keeps me happy for whole week.. kids are crazy. they are so happy.

Sundry

2007-08-25T09:03:00.000+05:30

it gets messy here..just keeps getting messier.. one thing i have confirmed is that if you do have an identity you must fight to preserve it.. there are some million influences hovering above you.. and im sure ill fal prey to most of them.. :P
gawd one thing i cant manage to do in the hostle is study..its been a good 25 od days n i hav NOt touched the books.. i mean NOt touched.. its really weird cos my dad keeps telling me to study everytime he calls me.. but i just cant manage to get my hands on the books.. its not that wat they are teaching is hard but i think must know wa they are teaching :S
n ive even started bunking classes.. not good.. every afternoon i bunk n i sleep.. so ive decided ill go to class n try taking notes.. well.. n here is the reason why.. haha.. see if i sleep in the noons then i havta sleep late at night and then i can get to cycle early in the mornins.. so goto class in the noons and then cycle in the mornins..works perfectly :D
most classes are boring and uneventful.. i even try taking down notes.. i do actually.. dat too in the right books :S
then we had this bday treat in like the 2nd best hotel here.
then i joined nss i think..im not sure if ive joined it or not.. its a weird situation too.. its funny how many weird situations i can land up in at one time..maha weird :D
ok.. i shud spend some more time in the bathrooms.. since i truly believe that taking bath is a waste of water.. this place is paradise for me.. none takes bath too often.. who wants to stand in line for 30 mins to be able to spend 5 mins in the bathroom.. id rather sleep :)
so i hardly remeber taking bath or washing my clothes.. i do wash my undies though..i like minimum + essential hygine..makes me feel godly.
one things TRULY spectacular about the last week has ben the moon n the clouds n the icecream.. im goin beserk over it..really.. since noone really notices the moon or the clouds i fel like the whole sky is made for me.. someone painstakingly paused every blowing wind so that raghu can puase n lok up to every tiny bit and smile for a while :D

godly.

one evening arpan n i were riding down the road when we saw this marvellous thing.. one side was the moon and lil bit of darkness..and the otherside was the sun setting down and some lovely lit up clouds.. whoa..
i realy really miss my cam.. im going thru a lot for angry phases ya.. i cud have really made use of all the anger and frustration n taken some nice pics..but blah.. al i can do is cry..and all my anger n all just goes.. watta waste :(
now my paisa is also low low.. i spent a good 1200 bucks on food(iceacream maggie n bourborn).. n nice 340 bucks on the phone so far.. not good not good :(
now that i have my at atm card god(if he exists )alone knows wats gonna happen now.
haan god.. abbe i have never mentioned the prayer i tell somedays.. here it goes
" god, if u exist, and o god, if ur all powerful, im here to butter you, you must be knowing everyone is trying to butter you.. so if you want me to buter you, i shall do that..oh lord almighty.. give me....."
lol.
ill write another nice post on god.. much better develoved than the last post on god :)

Surfaces.

2007-08-07T18:27:00.000+05:30

So So do you think you can tell, Heaven from hell?

frankly..no you cant.

anyway..now im in rourkela and im loving it so far..its been fun.. the seniors and the batchmates..both have been exceedingly fun to b with.. and i also found a guy who has read the fountainhead..something i seriously dint expect here..so that means late night talks.. :P

but what this place reaaly opens your eyes to are the surfaces.. everyones forever wearing mask..trying to make freinds.. trying to like oryia food.. trying to smile at stupid jokes.. trying to strike conversations with girls..trying so hard to fit in.. i fit in almost naturally.. its crazy.. its funny.
whats is really funny though is that all we become after sometime is just the surface.. we alone cease to exist.. just become one whole group of mesed up people.. its not that all of us get engulfed in this wind.. but most of us do.. but the just the surface remains..whats shit scary though is when you trust yourself and try to walk on your surface and then realise that there is nothing beneath..that is scary.. it really is.
and there is no way to know if your surface is supported or not.if your thought exists or not.. if you are thinkin before your own thought.. its not funny.
there are all kinds of surfaces..the rough, the smooth, the slippery, the black ones, the shiny ones and it takes a LONG time to know if there is anything inside the surface.. if its held down by some gravity of thought. i dont realy like meeting so many new people.. 400 of them.. damn.. but its not been bad at all.. throuh the next 2-3 mnths i must stick with my zone mates.. with whom im rather compatible.. and so far the seniors have been protective and helpful.
i do miss blogging.. but well just a matter of time.. and i miss my blogger friends n all too.
got to run now.. busy bee at last :P

Alive!

2007-07-22T00:00:00.000+05:30

I'm hypersensitive and it might be an understatement. Its hard to explain though.. if i know someones trying to hurt me purposefully.. then you can be sure i wont feel hurt at all.. its the same when someone tells me they are using me.. i feel glad and have no problems at all.. but when someone hurts with unknowingly.. it kills me.

then i feel used and like shit.. but after 20 mins im back again.. carefree and laughing my head out.. but those 20 mins are not fun.. really.
thats when you feel all the time you spent building a relations been wasted.. i dont regret too many things..mainly because ive never ever wanted anything too much.. so its fine.
thats when i think about things like why im alive..why is my hear beating so monotonously..why are all the cells in my body co-ordinating so perfectly for me to be alive.. why am i so important to the billion things fitted and built in so perfectly.. what makes me different from a dog.. why do i live.. whats my theme of life.
for one i dont lie.. thats a basic theme.. for one.. but i dont want to do certain things in life.. as a tribute to my heart my lungs and to every cell that thrives on every granule of food i eat.. i want to have my column in the a newspaper, sustain and grow it..to have an exhibition.. to make a movie and to retire with dignity...thats why i live.. thats what makes me happy.. i start dreaming after a good 20 mins.. and i start laughing my head off.. i don't like making chubbix sad.. he doesn't deserve it.. for someone else's fault.. no he doesn't deserve it at all.
so thats why i live simply to dream and live my dream.. it makes me happy :)

there are so many disgusting things in life.. so many uterly meaningless things.. it makes me sad.. and depressed but i cant stay in that state for long.. all for chubbix.. its not a a mask though.. thats something i can wear.. but i dont.. what you see is what i am.. wearing a mask is easy.. removing it is hard.. i swear it is.. not lying is obviously one of the first steps to removing the mask.. but again i hear a lot of people telling me its a waste, its my way of saying i dont fit in here.. and i cant keep exp laing myself to the wolrd.. but really.. you dont have to explain.. there is nothin more to it really.. you can speak the truth and live just the same.. people just understand you better.. dont know if you want it or not.. but its definitely more satisfactory.. all you need to do is commit. i swear its worth it..every bit of it.

other than that i love machines.. the ones in huge factories.. awwh i love them.. every layer of paint and every bolt and its shape and size has a definite reason for it.. every gear is working..its alive.. its working.. and even when its not working its alive.. thats what i love in it.. a machine is alive.. i can stare at them of a whole lotta time.. just like the moon..i guess.

i hate the buildings i see.. i love buildings being built.. their deep foundation.. they look alive that time.. but once they are built.. they loose their life.. they are killed.. almost signifies what they try doing to everyone of us who thinks.. kill them.. every building is compromised to look good.. its life is thus lost.. it gives in to what the people want..a tall god looking building.. its absolutely killing.

in cars i love the monsters and the formula one and all those racing cars n all.. its so funny.. really.. they make all these good looking aerodynamically shitty cars that i could puke on them.. but what the hell.. i just laugh at them and move on..who knows i might just land up buying a shitty car.. who knows.

frankly speaking most of the things i like dont exist.. but of the things that do exist i like many things too.. i dont force myself to like it.. but i find them in not so likely quarters.. it might seem silly.. but thats what i like.. thats what defines me.
the other day i saw this little video on the mumbai floods on national geographic.. and it told all these wonderful stories about survivors and life savers.. it was heartening.. but again all those lives swept way as if they were pieces of shit is depressing..but ya what i am trying to say is that there is tis policeman called tushar.. hes an inspector in kalina.. i dont hold the police in too much of a high regard.. but somehow now i feel if something does happen there is atleast one guy who'd come n help me out.. on 26th july 2005 his daughter vent missing in the floods.. but this man went out on a boat with a hole in it to save peoples lives..he was so modest about it.. it was heartening.. and then his daughter returned home eventually.
and when they asked him to talk about it.. he said he was happy he could save lives.. but then 2 days later when his daughter returned home she said that she was proud of him.. that seemed to satisfy him more than anything else.. now that man has integrity and conscience.. hes committed to his work.. and does it with all his will no matter how bad the system is or how bad the surroundings are.. i dont know.maybe hes corrupted too.. but if he was..that would kill me. really.. the wound would be deep and would stay fresh for ever.. i can sense that.
now that its taken me a good 17-18 years to even realize why im alive.. the next 40-50 years have to be spent protecting the things i love and spending as much time as possible on them.. oh they make me happy.. they really do.
unfortunately though every time you let a person make you happy.. you give them the right to make you sad.. and 9 outta 10 times they use their rights.

abbe kutton!

2007-07-15T16:30:00.000+05:30

i was always forced to wonder why i blogged by relative strangers.. and i always i have maintained that i don't know.. and when i get to know i might just stop blogging.
except once.. once i said i blogged because i wanted to interpret poetry i write and share with me their views so that it'd help me understand people better.. bull.. utter bull.. that was.. one of those lies that i told myself..those well rehearsed lines.

Now that my blog's featured in the newspaper and all.. i feel happy.. and i feel quiet obliged and grateful to my blog readers.. i know the word grateful is heavy and all.. may be i don't mean it so deeply.. but ya..im a hell a lot thankful.

i cant even remember why i started blogging.. :P

anyway this post is not about all that bull.. its about my readers.. seriously.. many people are new hear but none of the old ones have left.. though the readership is not growing rapidly.. i meet very interesting people with whom i like keeping in touch n all. so it was actually feb 19th 2007 (ya i rmbr the day n all.. :P im a genius with some kind of dates.. :P) and i had just given in on my readers.. i almost treated them like online bots..i had blocked my blog because i was desperately trying to find the reason why i blogged..some central theme around which the blogged revolved(now i guess its me :P ). This upset many readers and friends.. they knew something was amiss.. they knew raghu cant do this.. it enraged me even more.. i cant be so predictable.. can i?

anyway so after talking to all of them with a straight and heartless face i finally broke down. and this very fine lady who calls herself a "random person" helped me thru..
so sukrit sangy sneha divi vini all got all worried n all.. an really i realized i had found good people and great friends.
now with all these mice people talking so much nice stuff with me.. im finally staring to become a nice person too.. someone who i might just like to meet :)

really.. this newspaper article is a testimony not to my writing skills or anything(ive seen many well written blogs) but its more of a joint effort of the readers too.. all those nice people who read and comment on what i write and bear me no matter how demanding i am.

this sukrit fella is crazy.. really.. hes just too good n all.. so good u wunt believe its true.. so some girl please hit on him and marry him :P

but im crazy too.. id easily go half the world round to meet some blog reader of mine.. if im in the mood that is :D

many people say that they wouldn't blog because its like letting yourself be open and judged by random people.. frankly i don't know.. but for me thats never been an issue.. i haven't met anyone with malicious intent n all.. so its fine with me.. just that many of my friends wunt blog.. id love to read their blogs though..really.

and of all the funny things i heard about my blog being featured in the paper the best one was abhu and sukrits.. both said the same thing..my blogs featured in the news..well indirectly.. hahaha.. this was their explanation.
more people will read raghus blog.. more people will read the comments section..and since we comment so much.. theyd read our blogs too..hahaha.. so keep ur comments interesting :P

but my readership has not risen at all.. not one new person commented :P hehe.. weird.. no-one seems to read hindustan times :S

anyway again.. vene if u dont want to hear it.. thank you.. for reading it all.. even if it was a pleasure thanks for reading.

star cast : sukrit: kameeneee.. ab apun ko tere saath senti maarne ko hotha nahi.. bas mast long essays likhthe re.. maza aatha.. atleast someone cares :D :D
sneha: abbe wannabe lawyer im sure ur astro is the root of all my love failures :P
divi: abbe senior wannabe lawyer u inspire a lot of my "intelligent nonsense" :P
chinoy: saala wont even read this..kutta. :(
vinitha: senior most wannabe lawyer you helped me heal haan.. sachi :)
sangy: your damn likable.. sachi.. thanks haan.. sheet bahut senti maara aaj :S
pinky: yo! wannabe sangy.. tu bhi likable banegi ek din.. hum honge kaamiyaab :P
just blog as regurlarly as ur sista! :D :D

special mention : anasua u just missed feb 20th incident.. but uve been a bherry regular reader..and your blogs a pleasure to read..hence thank you too.. :D
priyanka: you just missed me meeting anasua incident yet your comments never fail to make me happy :D
abhu and tejal : idiots mereko bbsr me pakao math.
sanjeevani: your words are final..madam :D

Numb. Again.

2007-07-04T12:06:00.001+05:30

What they had is gone,
And all I feel is blankness.
Numbed like some medicated fool
Avoiding their wretched reality.
It’s not indifference or avoidance though -
Neither is it empathy or pity,
I suspect it to be more a kind of odd guilt,
Like a fog that pities the landscape
But nonetheless must smother the light below.
Something IS there, but must not be seen,
Something is aware, but nust not be known.
All they had is gone and I’m numb again.
With hollowness, with vague intent
Writing to you under
Wolly - cotton wet skies,
What else can
I do?
What else can
We do?
--
smother ,i guess, means to deprive of oxygen and prevent from breathing, like "Othello smothered Desdemona with a pillow".

Civilisation is captivating..so?.. what?

2007-06-29T23:56:00.000+05:30

Lol.
its high time i wrote about my thought.. my alter ego.. actually my named thought.. he was named two years back.. hes a four year old kid with just round about 10 milk teeth.. he has curly hair.. and is a little fat and cute.. thus hes called chubbix.. it took me a lot of time to think about a name.. and since i could not think of anything.. i technically stole this name :P

anyway chubbix helps me question small things.. fundamental things.. like school, sice chubbix goes to a school.. he doesnt have many friends ofcourse.. even if he had them he doesnt talk to me about them.. actually we dont talk much about his schooling at all.. the realtionship is more raghu centric..really.

so one fine day..when i was staring at the starry, moony sky and when the rain was hitting my face pretty hard..its rare that i get to see stars on a rainy night.. so when chubbix knocked on the inner side of my skull.. i told him to buzz off.

but chubbix dint budge.. he asked me, of all the things in the world.. "raghu do you like rules?"
"and why on earth would i answer that question when the whole of the sky is staring at me wearing all the possible jewels it could find?"
"because i want to know if you like rules"
and suddenly.. the rain stopped.. i hate it.. but it happens often.. it often happens the chubbix way!
arrgh.
"well, i dont know.. havent even thought about it.. i dont like dumb rules.. like you must wear a tie to school or that your hair must be combed.. or that you musnt talk much in class.. but then again the whole wide world would be much more chaotic if there were no rules"
chubbix smiled.. alomst as if he knew id say that.. goddamn him.. ofcourse he is my thought.. i should know him and not the other way round..but arrgh!
then he said," well not the kind of rules you call rules.. the rules that control your life without you knowing it."
"oh that kind.. ya im aware that rules like those exist.. but there not much i can do now..you know.. responsibilty to family n society n all..mostly all shit and burdensome.. but ya im pretty bound..you know..its obvious..its the price i pay for being called civilised i guess."
then i satared angrily at chubbix again n asked," did you stop the rain to ask me this.. well i knew this!."
chubbix reamined calm and asked..so raghu what are you goin to do.
i scratched my head and tried to banish chubbix.. no matter how cute.. that was one question i reafrained askin myself.

i was bound.. i am bound.. in this binding i try finding freedom..ofcourse to me that is superfulous.. and meaningless. But again i think what to do..
i turn to catcher in the rye for the anwser.. i connect with protaganist.. but i get no lead.
i turn to ayn rand.. she hits the matter head on.. it seems more logical.. but i dont like the ending..its more or less fairytale-ish.. i dont believe in the ending.. thus it only depresses me.

i ask chubbix if being a caveman would be better..if civilisation is only meant to keep the animal in man ..the savage inside him calm.. ofcourse.. civilisation is build on fear.. we are civilised because we fear.. then how am i to become free..
what kills me is my thought process is bound between being civilsied and being a savage.. its doent go anywhere else.. thats killing..really...its like letting the ones who made the "rules" get on top of you.

many a times i get involved in this spiral of thought which leads nowhere.. i get lost all over again.. the world im inhabiting now is not perfect.. thats not the problem.. the problem is it wasnt perfect..and its not goin to be.. i cant define the perfection i seek.. to put it crudely.. everyone should be free.. and freedom is the right/ability to be urself(again only just crudely).. its weird.. but wannabes and phony people are not free.. and we all do things which we dont want to do.. thus most of us are bound.. and not free.
so this civilisation is leading nowhere.

really i hate this entire need to be civilsied.. but what i hate more is my inablity to think further and find some better way of living.. i feel almost as if the society around me has had the effect it was built to have.. to kill my want of questioning the most basic building blocks of our mind.

but i need to question all of it.. i cant talk to books for too long.. so i needed a thought.
the thing about chubbix is that he makes me feel guilty like hell.. he'd smile right at my face..stare and give me look that would say," what you did affected me.. badly.. wrongly."
thats more than enough.. i feel horrible.

thus chubbix was born.. i needed someone who could question just like me..someone whom id not back answer to.. and someone who'd give me exactly what i needed.. hes still four and still in the same school.. hope he never grows...really..its not a good thing.

Dead People make me Dead.

2007-06-24T16:09:00.000+05:30

I dont know why eaxctly i went to the reunion.. i always knew i fit into all groups.. i belong everywhere.. thats one way of saying i dont belong anywhere. So i thought id go to see old friends who are noe reduced to acquiantances.. who where a fake smile to greet you.. who roar satanically when they laugh.. who are strictly unhappy.. and void.
it took me 20 minutes to realise i would have to keep my smile on for the whole night to survive here. it feels weird cause i felt the same way last year.. i thot it wud be differnt this year.. i tried keeping in touch..i felt like a moron but i tried.
i cant talk with people for whom i feel pity.. and i feel empathy for almost everyone.. its scary and i hate it.
So 20 minutes later i just paused and tried grabbing a glance at the faces.. everyone was smiling and everyone who wasnt looked surprised or was laughing loudly.. i felt surrounded by dead people.. and the satanic roar hurt my ears.. the smiles i saw made me feel blind..the touches and hugs were feelingless and conveyed nothing.. jokes were tasteless and could not even be classified into nonsense(something i dearly enjoy).
Just when you thought it could not get worse.. bitching started.. it was not the kind of bitching which was not mailicious.. it was deep and bitter.. my heart sank deeper.. i was entering my shell of utter disgust.

what made it all worse was for the next two days i dint anyone who was happy.. i like being surrounded by happy people.. one thing common in all my good friends are that they are happy or make me happy.. or we are happy when we are together.. thus being away from happy people for two days dint help.. the stayovers were kind of fun but there was something missing.. i wish i cpuld point out what.. but i cant.. i just dint feel comfortable enough.. guess this is where i belong.. with people and kids who are happy and for whom im happy.. i hate that kind of laughet you get to see in bars.. the unrealistic meaningless laughter.
what disgusted me more were the buildings.. they wernt built to last or for the people living in there to feel comfortable..they were built to make money.. and thats wat the buildings smelled of.. money.. hollow money.
the teachers and principal dint make me happy either who dint feel they owned us enough to ask us for money directly.. who wanted to "institute trophies".. all i feel is empathy n disgust..
the whole wide world is filled with sad people.. i like poeple who laugh.. meaninglessly too.. but only if they feel that they are laughing..its weird but try it.. i almost can tell if your feeling your laughter..
the more i think about it the more i feel that the world is built to make us sad..its contructed such that we feel sad..the ones happy are destroyed.. or atleast all attempts are made to make them feel out of place.

i hate saying all this cos i hate the feeling of dying everyday.. i feel i do manage to live up evryday..enjoying every bit i do get to.. every bit i can!

i hate it when i see poeple whom i knew from the age of 9-10 gulp bottles to beers like water and smoke hukka and ciggerattes like it were air.. and in 10 minutes 1000 rupees diappears in a puff.

luckily there are street dogs.. luckily they look at yme the whole time i am crossing the road and assure me that they would rip off the tires of any vehical that could run over me. im utterly convinced treet dogs are happier than dogs fed 5 times a day in houses of rich people.

last night i blamed everyone for me being sad.. right from abhay to sukrit to anisha to sanjeevani to sneha to the stopping to the rain to pinky to anasua to pranav to akka to amma to myself.
im sorry the worlds just not good enough.

Granpa, Its me.

2007-06-17T18:23:00.000+05:30

imagine your eighty. u've done all you ever wanted to do in your life. made many kids and made sure they are all sucessful. but now your eighty, you wake up one morning and stare at the wall. its paint is coming off, the limestone plaster is breaking off, the cracks appear like deep ravines now, it reminds you of you.
you stare at that wall for five minutes and then wonder where you are. its not your house, your walls were clean, or atleast for how much you could remember. your still blank and suddenly you hear a voice, and then you see a face you recogonise, you asw her yesterday, its your wife. you like her, but she does not let you talk. you move out of your bed and walk to brush your teeth, its funny but you when you look at the mirror and see yourself wearing a beard, you realise you've forgotten to shave. now you dont know how to shave.
just as you finish brushing your teeth and create a grose picture of white and blue all around the wash basin, your wife curses you but tells you to hurry up. you stare back.
suddenly another face enters the room, your wife calls him her son, you cant recogonise him. he tells you to enter the car. you try and imagine what a car is.. then you give up.. damn its never like what you imagine.
they make you travel in the car for more than two hours and when you reach where you have to.. you ask.. where are we goin?
your son gives you a smile.. introduces himself and says that your at yuour daughters house. you smile and feel happy.
at her house you feel awkward again.. your grandson keeps smiling at you, you feel creepy.. suddenly yuou remember his sisters name.. you fumble sindu.. and the whole family starts yelling out stories about her.. you get scared and smile back at them. your wife seems to have a very good time.. you go blank again..you ask her where you are.. she scolds you asks you to keep quiet.
After watchin a movie, you go back to your sons home.. again you imagine how a car looks like and again you give up. it doesnt even matter to you now.

and so eighty years of your life vanishes into thin mist.. poof.. your life is gone.. you dont know your chilren.. you dont know your wife.. you have forgotten youself. all that remains are flahses of memories.. like how you forgot the way back to your home, or when you first saw your son score a hundered in math, or when you got your first salary.
Now your just a jailed animal. your brain is punishing you now.. and you cant remember why.

this is one illness i fear..other than snake bites. parkinsons.

blood on the tracks

2007-06-16T17:38:00.000+05:30

i have never enjoyed travelling as much as im doing now. its vague and weird, sometimes morbid and sometimes fun..but all this when im travelling alone..or walking down on the street alone.. i wish i could invent something that would reacord all my thoughts and observations i make while travelling..there are just soo damn many!

but anyway one of the instances of shopping was when i went to buy marbles. the shopkeepers were just over perplexed to see a 6 foot tall 17 year old asking for"hare goli hai? woh marbles..hare waale..chote hare goli?" hahah..after entering 4 shops without any result i went down the street to ask kids.. they seemed too possesive about their marbles.. so much so that i felt guilty asking them.. even though iui was ready to pay ten times its mrp! hahah..mrp.!

and now that my love for dogs is rekindled and the clouds look sexier than ever..its even more fun..oh btw the love 4 dogs was rekindled cos of miss sangeeta das..n clouds ka love by miss sanjeevani thakur..:P

its not that i like to travel.. esp.. that with that damned radio on.. its very bad.. with poeple like himes n jhoom barabar jhoom ripping off money from idiots who lissen to them. the movies made today are a total rip off.. right from oceans triology to jhoom barabar.. they think anything with amitabh yash raj n abhishek n preity sells.. well its does.. thats the dumbest part..movies just suck now.. even pirates wasnt great..sipdey was ok.. but oceans was the worst..they, im sure, if danny wants can sell the whole of the eart to martians.. even if maryians dont exist.. its waay too bugging to have wasted ur money on it..total ripoff.

jhoom barabar promises to be worse.. just pause n think.. the sound sucks.. bobby deol looks like an ape who's dyed this hair..lara dutta has had 7 abortions.. preity is a cocaine addict.. and they make a family drama .. and people see it.. and when i tell em its a ripoff..u can have more fun watchin kill bill 4 the 15th time..well..they just laugh it off..wat a pity.

himesh on the other isnt such a ripoff guy.. his songs are as sangy puts it"noise from hell" but wat hes doing is hes getting the rick walas to clerks to "ï have very lil money people" to bjut radios and mp3 players..its funny..n i dnt noe if its a good thing.. but hes having an effect like how amitabh had oin 70s n 80s..

its effect is essentially this..forget ur worries n enjoy.. it turns out that people dnt enjoy with out spenoing on entartainment.. :P
i see ,when ever i walk on the road, young men carrying a plastic bag filled with files(no no im i dint look inside the bag..just the shape of the bag tells ur there a rectangular folder in it) and plugging an earphone.. but the wonder is..maaany maanny of them dont wear slippers or shoes..thats himes..im guessing hes lissnin to himesh!

so now once himesh effect dies..all that needs to be done is poeple need to introduced to better kind of music.. that wud open up a world of opurtunities.. and sooner rather than later rock cud be wat an average indian lissens to..i prefer rock over bollywood numbers.. so i hope its rock taht takes over.. and not some sidey hindi song.

ok this post is goin nowhere.. all im saying is himes is not as bad as we think he is.. n plead all readers not to lissen to sidey hindi songs..oh..oh 1 more point
this one came up when sukrit n i were discusing crap.. they essential differece between hollywood n bollywood celebs are that in bollywood the onscreem image is carried off offscreen too.. or so is the impression made.. esp the big big stars.. all of em are good old nice people..emraan is bad boy both on n off.. preity is goody goody n bubbly.. salman is a tad bit confused :S

where as in hollywood everyone noes everything about the celebs.. so when they see a movie they see jack sparrow and not jhonny depp.. we noe hes addicted to cocaine..big time.. the smokes like crazy..hes and intellect..its kinda weird.
but here in bollywood.. preity is a good gal..shilpa is a good gal.. lara is a good gal..so much to maintain that image ven u all are not good gals.. that is called cheating..ven we see some movie we see sharukh n not that sleazy rahul or raj.. so he must be a hero off stage to be a hero onscreen..total ripoff..aint it?

Dead Mirror

2007-05-14T23:37:00.000+05:30

In the face of death, don't ask who lived my life.

The Thorn.

2007-05-09T01:52:00.000+05:30

Thorns do not live in the fear shriveling up.

The Phony Phony World.

2007-05-07T11:04:00.000+05:30

the fact that some commit differentiates the people who fly and sore.. looking great in flight.. from the onlookers who see them fly.

Lets face it, there is mediocrity because people are not willing to commit.. they fear dreaming.. even if they dream.. they would rather choose a more secure(you get paid well even if your a bad engineer) path rather than hunt down their dream. This is the cause of mediocrity.

People are not less able.. as many famous authors and philosophers claim.. and no one is more gifted.. even Albert Einstein admits that its more to do with the will to work than being inherently smart.. in fact hard work and courage can most certainly make up for genius. There are geniuses in every field of work but they can be beaten by sheer will to work.. this will is hard to find if you do not like your work.. i will very much vouch for the fact that if you want to do something.. nothing can stop you.. that want is the world of difference.

i speak more out of small experiences than big ones but not of mere observations.. the secret, i believe, lies in longing.. if there is longing there is success.. the longing should be channelized.. but even if it is not.. it will be channelized during the walk along the path.. the more specific the target the easier it is to hit it.. its a must to commit though.. there is no use doing what you don't like .. but it again should not be an escape.. you must not choose to do something you feel is easier (though easiness is relative and the very fact that you find it easy means that your good at it or you like it or both).. choose easiness over something you like.. its a sacrifice.. and a bad one because the priorities set are wrong.. for me they are.. of course you can have different priorities.. for me liking and longing is more important than merely having an acumen for it.. if i had a choice to make between something i was good at and something i liked.. i would choose something i like(because if im like it.. i can be damn sure ill be good at it!)... but only if im sure that i don't particularly like the thing im good at.. that is the very backbone of choice.. priorities.. if we can prioritize.. we can make a choice.. but to prioritize one can either choose the way of his heart or spend sometime thinking about the choice he has to make and dissect down to the minutest detail.. both have their pros and cons.

theres i guess a difference between being arrogant and snobbish.. im coming to appreciate arrogance in work.. and academics.. i like people who stand up and say im gonna kick some ass in the exams.. or sports or anything in that matter.. that is perhaps how i define committing. once you commit.. nothing can stop you.. lets face it when i say im gonna win ..im gonna give it 100%.. im giving it my all.. and the next best who fears telling the world hes gonna win prolly fears telling himself hes gonna win.. that difference will be about 20%.. and i will win... it takes guts to commit.. call a stranger one day before an exam and say im going to top.. and then doing it.. that is commitment.. once you commit.. there is no stopping you.. all reasons fail.. and you win.

the first step to failure is accepting that it "might" be impossible.. once it creeps in you'll never reach where you can.. nevermind where you reach.. you can do better.. but the fact that you accept that its impossible to study 500 pages in 2 days shows that you won't be stunned if your not able to finish the portion..giving your self leavage to failure.. but you can argue saying being self critical will help you reach higher.. yes i agree.. but being self critical is not doubting yourself.. nothing is impossible... one cannot let himself feel its ok to fail.. ever.

once more and more people commit to their dreams.. mediocrity could be done away with.. choices will be easier to make.. life will have goals worth achieving..there will be ecstasy..there will be happiness.. there will be joy at work.. there will be true love.. there will be reason to live.. all energies well directed.. life will be simpler.. more innocent.

the fact that some commit differentiates the people who fly and sore.. looking great in flight.. from the onlookers who see them fly.

Blogs and Distances

2007-05-06T22:54:00.000+05:30

heehe.. reminds of my goa trip and eyebrow shaving stuff..sometimes wonder if i did it for the blog..heehe.. that whole 2-3 mnths.. and who knows even now.. :D :D

god damnit i admit.. me too.. i do such stuff too.. i tried calculating my density when i was in eighth.. and did this shortest distacne and time expt.. and now im tryin hard to count numbers and talk aloud at the same time.. after that ill have to read aloud.. believe me its not a joke :P

Mora Lisa

2007-05-03T11:50:00.000+05:30

The mora chronicles is about how the mora's are influencing your life and how they have influenced lives and wives of famous people right through the years. Today we look at, after DelMora's((the head of operation "Mora Lisa") great great grandson's permission, the series of events that lead to Davinci's Mora Lisa and the secret tales encrypted in the Mona Lisa.

So it was 1494 and DelMora married a luscious looking Morini named Thomora, meaning the thunder. And oh yes she was thunderous in the bed. She blew DelMora's mind off. That man couldn't do much really.. he just could not resist her. Soon his sperm count fell down rapidly and he felt the need of making a tribute for the culprit.. but obviously DelMora could not paint, could not build , he could not mint coins, make stamps.. well he ran out other ideas anyway.

So DelMora planned a world tour with his wife.. they went far and wide.. tore through vast jungles.. and even tried abstaining, lest they should wake up hungry snakes and lions by their rather loud groans. After 4 years they reached India.. they had traveled with Vasco da Gama. DelMora never mentioned to his wife about the tribute but he was still hunting for the perfect tribute. He tried negotiating with many Indian painters and architects, but they all were too expensive for the mora, thus he travelled the rest of the world and returned home rather unhappy.

But as they say "Search the world and find it at home", DelMora approached Michelangelo in 1502, but the man was tired, he had just completed the statue of David. It made DelMora very furious and he threatened to kill Michelangelo, but Michelangelo still refused to work on Thomora.
Then DelMora approached davinci.. davinci also fell in love with Thomora and conspired to kill DelMora.. luckily for him though DelMora died due to excess love from his wife. His wife took his death in good taste and started having an affair with Davinci.. she told him about many mora traditions and among them were the sacred ritual of secrecy. She could not let her identity be revealed in his painting. Thus Davinci the great decided to encrypt the painting and shrouded it with mystery. He added that funny smile to diverge the attention of the viewers from the pointed nose which completely gives away the true identity of Thomora. Ofcourse Mora Lisa has no eyebrows because even morinis don't have eyebrows!

Davinci then took all the Church goers and Priory of Sion members for a ride saying that the painting was a wonderfully well encrypted message about all the happenings of those times.
While scientist argue that the painting may be Davinci himself or even might represent his erotic feelings for his mother.. the truth is that it is a painting for his lovely morini, Thomora.
The eerie background represents the tales of Thomora's travel around the world, the eerie forests and the hissing snakes. And yes that $670 million smile was just fake.. moras dont smile :D
--
For readers who are lost..worry not.. see this

Sole

2007-04-19T14:22:00.000+05:30

Don't throw roses

On the path.

I walk barefoot.

not written by me.. but i love it!

Oblivious.

2007-04-17T20:13:00.000+05:30

I am forced to wonder who is lost, the insect or the buildings forming the background.
how the insect takes its small step ahead oblivious of the world around.

Fabric

2007-04-17T19:58:00.000+05:30

I do the searching, He does the finding.

मोरा रे मोरा

2007-04-14T00:08:00.000+05:30

मोरा रे मोरा

काय तुज़ा तोरा

रंगीन पीसरा
दोक्या वर तुरा

वर वर बघ
काले काले द्घ
एक पाय दुम्रूं
पीसरा फुल्वुन
मोरा रे मोरा

this is bestest poem ever.. better than any of Wordsworth or Wilfred Owen or Kabir or Raheem or any poet ever born.

incase your wondering why.. why raghu talks so much crap about mora.. well in all that crap and mess there is some truth and that is that i believe firmly that i can survive through anything.. and what keeps me going is this thought about moras.. i say to myself if mora can survive so can i!

n i do survive!

and so.. mora's are gonna rule the world..though they pose stiff competition from chinoy's mitochonrians..mora's are ahead in the race to rule the world.. they have formed allies with flies, cockroaches and ants(3 insects which make a hella lotta population in this world)

the agenda for mora's are very simple..use dat tiny lil peanut siz head of their's to seduce the peahen and convince the peahens to attend all high profile meetings.

recently a famous conspiracy hatched by the mora's worked remarkably well. they fixed some matches in the world cup of cricket to slow down the indian economy and thus invest in the india stock market when the money is running low. reports show that mora's have actually entered the indian market BIGTIME. the moras who have been working in the background for the last 500 years, maneuvering the world history for their benefits. so far they have been very successful in hiding their success. mind the whole history of the world has been well planned.

every war, every technological enhancement has been funded a great deal by the moras. they have influenced great minds including shakespear and Einstein. infact mona lisa is actually a mora.. the greatest encryption artist da vinci made the mora wear a smile so that it would be impossible to conceive a mora smiling.. what an amazing brain the man had.

well.. the moras affect our lives a great deal and this mora choricles is a tell all about the moras who no longer want to be in the hiding.. they want to legalize their mafia and enter the real world and make big chance in the running of the world.. the mora chronicles will deal with the past and future of the wolrd.. as the present is already decided by the moras.

it will also deal with the working of the world wide mora organisation(many of whom were happy with the trashing roma received in the hands of manu.. as Italians are finding it hard to digest a deal moras are trying to make with the country's leading peanut managing firm "Oderzo Nuts")
and how moras are trying to legalize their extremely profitable business.
so stay tuned the moras are coming!

El Paradiso

2007-04-10T19:26:00.000+05:30

When the warm sunshine hits my soul and not my flesh
Where I can roam around with the masks ripped off my face
Where the naked soul runs within its wild madness
Where the sublime purity of the soul fills the sun wretched shore with cold vivid darkness
Where all is unknown, yet understood.

Alas, who knows maybe the soul too has a skin to wear.
--
Paradise lies within.

Smitten.

2007-04-09T20:45:00.000+05:30

i'd go blog hopping and find everyone in the world tagged sometime or the other.
somehow it was never me.. now it is.. i have been smitten by thye tag bug..thanks to one of my firstest blog buddy..sneha.

3 people who make me laugh: sukrit,anny,my mom(max max max!)

3 things I love: photography,writing,movies

3 things I hate: reading,phoniness,lies

3 things I don’t understand: most authors(ayn rand,gibran,wilde..almost all!),most books

3 things on my desk: i don't use the desk..so u'll find batteries and chargers.. and books!

3 things I’m doing right now: watchin tv,trying to listen to noises, looking at my shadow as i type.

3 things I want to do before I die: whole post on that one!

3 things I can do: i can do anything.

3 things you should listen to:

You should listen to Kaun By Indian Ocean.

3 things you should never listen to: that's your choice.. i don't listen to rap and very heavy metal and industrail rock.

3 things I’d like to learn: spellings, judging people, dancing(i don't want to work on it though.. would love it if it just came to me..sonme godly gift :P
)
3 favourite foods: anything with jam,pickwick,chocolates!

3 beverages I drink regularly: i'm a complan boy but i drink bounrvita too.

3 TV shows/Books I watched/read as a kid: toons.. well hella lotta it.jetsons(simply hated it!) tom n jerry..laugh olympics.yogi bear.. almost any toon.. secret seven..i hated reading even then.. used to read to show off.

I tag….sangy, divi n anasua! :D
well.. sangy bettr find time.. divi thanks for accepting my mora testimonial.. if u dint i would go on to write testimonials in marathi or about dabelis. :D
anasua.. chal re wannabe bear your tagged!

I Dream

2007-03-30T01:04:00.000+05:30

i love to dream.

i dream that someday i would play with the kids in the village..the kind of kids who ask questions.. the kind who keep laughing.. who love you.. who are very innocent.. i love innocence.. i cant get over that love.
the kids who ask questions like why the sun is yellow but the moon white.. why father goes to work.. why mother makes food.. why..why why..i want to be with such kids.. i want to write about them.. i want to do a ringa ringa roses with them.. run round the trees.. fearless.. free.. like mad children.. singing bob the builder.. watching noddy all day.. and then writing about all of it.. i love to write.. i would love to write in newspapers.. not like the ones that makes the front page.. no, not that.. the kind of news that changes everyday..the news that is just cheap and written to sell..i'd like to have a small column of my own.. a sincere one.. which talks about the children.. the villagers.. the women of nandigram.. the dalits of bihar.. the farmers of vidharba.. that talks about all of these even when nothing dramatic and drastic has happened.. so i dont feel guilty of selling news like that.. making news out of dead people.. of people who died.. but did not loose.. i hate to read news like that.. the news that appears only when things are happening.. its not sincere at all.

one could say that then my column should not appear in the newspaper.. well, i believe it should.. so that people connect with the death and misery.. so that teens feel the pain when a dalit woman is raped.. when a child is killed.. when a farmer suicides.. one needs to connect.. one needs to get personal.. one really needs to get personal.

thats about my dreams of journalism..the thing about me is a feel some nut will employee me as a writer in their papers.. i keep feeling like i can convince them.. i keep feeling i can make that difference.. i feel inspired.. sometimes i really do... i hope a lot.. and i keep thinking hope is good.. cause i never stop hoping.. its like this tonic.. i just keep hoping.. all the bloody time.

then i keep getting this dream..or imaginative ending to my story.. that im receiving a prize.. a reward.. actually im invited to this "world photography exhibition".. i dont know.. but i really feel...im gifted with this one.. i have never worked or read about taking pictures.. i dont even know if such an exhibition exists for Christs sakes!

but i keep dreaming that i make it there.. that someone buys one of the pictures for a million bucks..that makes me all rich.. but then i dont feel like selling it.. i haven't had the guts to see beyond that.. id like to say id be happy if i get invited for the world photography exhibition.. really do think i can make the cut.. i believe in something, that if you invest your life in something..it may be very small.. even if you dedicate your life to the art of polishing nails..or the art of climbing walls.. you invest your whole life in it.. you'll make it big.. you'd love what you are doing and you'll be the best at it.. so im investing in photography.. its simple..what i do is very simple.. but yet very creative.. and i believe if i dedicate my life to it.. or for that matter 10 years to it.. i'll make it to that exhibition.. i really will.. i really want to.. and if u know you want to.. if you know what you want.. you get what you want.. that knowing is everything.. that is everything that matters...wanting and knowing that u want it.

as luther king put it:

"If a man is called to be a street sweeper, he should sweep streets even as Michelangelo painted, or Beethoven composed music, or Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well."

Martin Luther King, Jr.

and then i dream of making this movie too.. its the craziest and most challenging thing .. i say its challenging cause no-ones tried it on large scale before.. and ive tried it in tits and bits.. and i found it hard.. ill need some real good people.. some great geeks and techies to get me through on that one.. but it will be fun.. and it wont fail.. i wont let it fail.. im lucky with this one too.. i dont like to fail.. if i fail and i like what i do.. and yet fail.. u can be goddamned sure i wont give up.. thats what happened with the photography really..i was feeling very sleepy.. but then i saw my camera.. i am very bad at photography..i must admit.. its only the ideas that save me..that raw idiotic and very stupid ideas..that come from the fact that i hope... they turn out to very innocent.. and thus never fail... so i picked up the camera and said..boy raghu ur not gonna sleep till u take one pic u like..so i tried taking pics with the lights on..i failed miserably.. but i liked it.. i just loved taking random pics..they looked horrible.. it took me lil time to realise i cant work when the lights are on.. so they went off.. and then the pics came good.. or so i feel.. and i really cant seem to care what others feel about it.. watevr they feel..they dont feel the ecstasy of creating it.. boy..thats one wonderful emotion.. i really is.

after ive done all this..ill settle down..in my place..ill buy some land.. anywhere.. away from the loud noises.. but near people i like.. near some garden were lil kids play.. away from the industry.. near the market..in some land were moon light falls often.. really..thats one thing i reallllyyy love..some place were there would be a lot of trees.. cos their shadows look great in the moonlight.. they are very distinct.. very well crafted..the leaves look marvelous.

yes so ill buy a plot of land.. and create everything i need.. ofcors i cant create atoms.. and stuff.. which only god can.. or nature can.. or watevr name u choose to call that power.. ill use the wood.. the feathers.. and many other things..ill create my chairs.. my tables.. my curtains.. everything ill need.. everything.. then i can say they are all mine.. u can buy things .. u can only buy things..u cant own them.. not the way the creator owns anyway..so ill spend the rest of my life creating things.. if i need a tv..well ill need to make it.. only if i need it though.. but then i dont believe raw necessity is the mother of all inventions.. many a times its just ideas we get..out of no reason or need.. thats like a gods wake up call or something.. i can never figure out were i get ideas from.. i hope i never can figure that out either.

ya in the middle i hope ill fall in love and have kids n all.. if one thing my kid shud learn from it would be creating..theres no joy like that.. hope he wont take 17 years to realize dat.

its been a a month since i cried last.. one month..and then today.

The Man, The King.

2007-03-25T00:58:00.000+05:30

(Patricia Kennealy met Jim Morrison in January 1969 at the Plaza Hotel in New York City, the day after the Doors had appeared at Madison Square Garden. A tall, attractive redhead, Patricia was then the editor of Jazz & Pop, an influential rock trade magazine. In June 1970, Jim and Patricia were married in a Celtic handfasting ceremony--an event that Oliver Stone later depicted in his 1991 film, The Doors. After Jim's death, Patricia wrote a memoir, Strange Days; she is also a noted science fiction writer whose latest novel, Blackmantle, was published to wide critical acclaim.

AL: What did you think of the Oliver Stone movie which many people, ourselves included, admired.

PM: You mean the world's biggest music video? Jim Morrison, the man I love, the man I married, is nowhere in that film. What you see is a grotesque, sodden, buffoonish caricature, who could never have written the immortal songs he is supposedly being immortalized for. But the worst sin Oliver Stone committed is that you don't care that Jim Morrison is dead at the end of the film.

AL: What was Jim's attitude toward the Doors? Did it change over time?

PM: At first they were a group of struggling artists all equally together. At the end they were four wealthy superstars struggling with a personal group dynamic that was anything but equal. I think by the time Jim left for Paris, it had become more an office relationship than a four way friendship. Jim told me that he never felt he had much in common with Robby or John, and that they felt the same about him. When Jim left LA in March 1971, he left the Doors as well--whether they knew it or not, whether they believed it or not.

AL: How would you characterize Jim's personality?

PM: He didn't handle pain well. But pain for Jim, as for so many artists, was a source of creativity. I think that he thought if he stopped hurting, he'd stop creating...And he was hurtful to others because he was afraid of being hurt himself. He found it hard to accept love because he had never been given very much of it, and did not think himself worthy of love.

AL: Was Jim self-destructive?

PM: Jim Morrison was most definitely not into destroying himself. That said, I must also say that since Jim was an alcoholic and not always in self-command, his instinct for creative adventuring, that edge-walking side of him, often pushed him into the borderlands of self-destructiveness--and sometimes right over.

AL: What was Jim's attitude his last days in Paris?

PM: I had eight or ten cards and letters from him in the three months he spent there. Some were exalted and joyous and others were veiled in despair. The last letter he wrote me was mailed only a few days before he died. He wrote of how tired he was and how much he missed me. "My side is cold without you..." he told me. The letter was to weep for, and I did, and still do.

AL: Did Jim talk much about Pam?

PM: We hardly ever talked about Pamela Courson. She had nothing to do with us. Jim kept his life very compartmentalized. And yes, I absolutely do believe she killed him, and nothing will ever persuade me otherwise. Not premeditated, perhaps--junkies don't think that far ahead--but in an attempt to hook him along with her, or to control him, or punish him for leaving her, as she knew he was about to do.

AL: After twenty-six years, there is still the Morrison legend.

PM: Jim Morrison was a beautiful soul who had a deep sense of the absurd. To him, the thought of being an icon was repellent. He was one of the great iconoclasts of all time. I think he'd probably just laugh about his icon status--and then set everybody straight in that Southern gentleman way I love him for.
-----

i cannot get myself to judge morrison as a person.. as for his lyrics.. every word meant something to him .. something special ..not what some other poet felt about the rain, moon or ghosts.. but what he felt about every part of nature.that makes morrison's poetry very encrypted and beautiful!
as he himself put it.. "If my poetry aims to achieve anything, it's to deliver people from the limited ways in which they see and feel."

he truly opened the doors of perception.. and was wild.. perhaps a sacrifice to be creative.
all said and done.. I have an impression of the man.. and I'd like to live in that illusion.

night

2007-03-22T18:16:00.001+05:30

A ray of night,
      penetrates through
              the hollow vaults
      of love, and asks
Why dint it hurt.
--
truth always wind in the end, only we don't know when the end is.

More Convos!

2007-03-20T01:54:00.000+05:30

ok here you go. some more convos :D
for those who are wonder why "more".. well check them out here and here!
--
towards the end of a convo anny and ragoo were having.
.
.
.
ragoo: ok, bye then.
anny: I'm hanging up on you.
ragoo: last time you hung up, let me hang up this time!
anny: ok! (god alone knows why she was being sooo chweet!)
ragoo: i can't believe this!
anyway I'm hanging up! :D :D
*click*

another convo -

ragoo: you should watch 300.you like hot guys, there are 300 of them in this movie.. and they are wearing hardly anything! :D
anny: erm.. i see enough hot guys on tv.
ragoo: no, no these guys hardly wear anything.. and they fight.. you know its different!
anny: are you sure your not interested in the guys.
ragoo: stumped :$
--
this one's like Sid's ultimate joke.

prof:a lot of research can be done in this field.
raghu: great,salle apun karenge research.. then after 25 years our names will come in NCERT :D .. raghu-sid theory.
sid:nah, its going to be raghu's theory first..phir limitations :D
raghu: abbe salle.
sid: aur sun, after your limitations will be "Sid's correction". :D

--

raghu skips a question in the chemistry board paper and now feels thet he may have numbered all the questions wrongly!

raghu(to the entire class): kutton chemi mein i can get anywhere from 0-6 or 50-60.
sid/parijat/evry1 else :huh!

raghu explains.

sid: tension math le, she'll correct the paper and then find that your getting like 6.. so she'll realise the mistake you've made and give you marks
raghu: you think so :D !
parijat: pagal hain kya.. she's gonna get 1 rupee for that paper.. ek rupaya ke liye itna karegi kya? pagal!
raghu: :-(

--
cbse has a trend of asking essays on current issues.

anny: hmnm.. any current events likely to be asked?
ragoo: can't really say.. womens day.
anny: any tsunami.. earthquake occured?
ragoo(shell shocked!): omg,(recovers) no, not in india.
:but ya there was a blast in a train.
anny: ya,ya tell me.
ragoo: well, a train from india to pakistan...
anny(cuts him short):oh ya, when did this happen?
ragoo:say two weeks back.
anny: oh don't bother.. they set the papers 2-3 months back!
ragoo(shocked again): :D
--
in return to anny's beautiful card ragoo gave anny a very funny card.

ragoo: so you liked the card?
anny: hated it!
ragoo(sad): why?
anny: what crap it was.
ragoo: it took me 2 hrs to write.. and the more time to make it look great.
anny: so what, i still hated it.
ragoo:ok, why don't you show me the card..ill read again and decide.
anny: oh,i lost it.
ragoo: what!!, you already lost that poem i gave you for your birthday!
anny: oh, im sorry.. but i lost it.
ragoo(furious): this god damned unfair! why should i ever give you a card! I'm not giving you anything again!
anny:yes,that was the parting card.
ragoo: and you lost that!
anny:I'm sorry na!
ragoo:bye

*click*

ragoo goes to the loo and wonders rather disappointedly.
the phone rings..on returning from the loo ,5 minutes later, his mom tells him it was anny.
ragoo decides to give her one more chance.
ragoo: hullo
anny:heya!
ragoo: you absolutely mistreat me and never give enough importance to your friends.
anny:raghu, i was jooookkkkiiiinng!
ragoo:sachi?
anny: ya.. and i thought you knew and were acting so i din't want to be the first to blink and be the looser in out lil game again!
raghu: this time you get the oscar!
anny:ya the card was lovely.. i laughed my whole way back from the school..in the rick.. whole way back!
ragoo:heheehe
anny: how can i loose it ya.. only you have given a card!
ragoo(heart completely melts):aww :D
anny: i called back cos i thought we'd land up having the girly kinda fight ya.
ragoo:huh
anny: i had this huuuge fight with my frnd from the old school cos of some dumb thing like this!
ragoo: ooo.. besides I'm not a girl!
anny: oh,ya.
--