At times in life, I wish if there is one
In which I can sit and travel through time
See what I did, am doing and should be done
And write my life line by line
I will travel back and live those college days
When I flew without wings, chirped with friends
Gift her chocolates instead of LAYS
Enjoyed without bothering about economic trends
Rush in future and see what happens in 2010
See if the cards I am playing will work or not
Will I be broke or filthy rich by then
Did I fail or scored with every shot?
But then I will have an answer to everything
Killing the mystery, anticipation and associated fun
I guess it’s good if there is no such thing
Else I wouldn’t have written this poem
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Net-o-phobia
It sucks! My office space (god knows why) is just not connecting to LAN/WIRELESS and even the so called Iphone’s 3G network coverage has missed it as well. And damn, I am feeling so miserable of what to do, where to go and how to survive. Thought of being internet-less for the whole day was freaking me out.
Living without Gtalk’s ‘tuungg’ sound, YouTube’s videos, Orkut, Facebook, Outlook mails, Phulki.com (for Hindi songs), and ofcourse Google amidst work generated so much agitation, I almost knocked down colleague’s laptop from her table. Hell yeah! I wanted that functioning LAN cord to calm my nerves. And it feels so good now; blogspot.com in black, ‘you could be happy’ on YouTube and chat windows of friends which has literally brought me back from the doors of insanity.
Don’t believe me! Try disabling your wireless, unplug your LAN cables and switch off your smart phones. If you still survive, something is wrong with you.
Living without Gtalk’s ‘tuungg’ sound, YouTube’s videos, Orkut, Facebook, Outlook mails, Phulki.com (for Hindi songs), and ofcourse Google amidst work generated so much agitation, I almost knocked down colleague’s laptop from her table. Hell yeah! I wanted that functioning LAN cord to calm my nerves. And it feels so good now; blogspot.com in black, ‘you could be happy’ on YouTube and chat windows of friends which has literally brought me back from the doors of insanity.
Don’t believe me! Try disabling your wireless, unplug your LAN cables and switch off your smart phones. If you still survive, something is wrong with you.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
My first crime
On a wintry and foggy Delhi day, got up at 7am to tape her mouth and wrap in ropes. ‘You should not do it son.’ Helpless father of mine, pleaded but a monster was inside me, of practicality, of needs and desires. Without switching on the fog lights or any other lights, sneaked out my Maruti 800 from garage to park it, kissing my main door. ‘Son please, think once again, after all….’ Before he could continue, I banged car doors, loud enough to scare away the garland boy on cycle. ‘He deserves hell’, he must have said on seeing me ruthlessly stuffing her on the backseat. Minutes later, I was on the Delhi roads where everyone seem to drive, as if they are driving for the last time or if Katrina is on the other side, waiting for them n***d.
A Sakoda honking from behind, Swift took blunt right, rickshaw coming straight and an auto almost touching on left, enjoying ‘tujhe mein rab dikhta hain yaara mein kya karu’ from my car’s stereo, looking at me. My cousin, an accomplice on the left seat trying permutations and combinations of four words, love, kiss, miss and you with you allowed to repeat as many times as it can; to SMS a new SMS to his GF. Inside the auto, sat a few females with laptops disgusted on seeing the harassed sitting behind me. Soon traffic signal one km away turned green, I focused on the road. Finally surviving all the Dhoom’s and Schumacher clan people, I reached the exchange point, parking my car in nearby vicinity among others.
While walking up to the convicts, flashbacks of happy time flashed. She was so young, smoothest surface and sharp features but six years back. Believer of Darwin’s theory I realized, since there is someone slimmer, trendier and beautiful in my life, its time to bid adieu with the ex. But it wasn’t so easy, the first **** movie, weird places we visited and all those promises I made on her, kept clogging my mind. But I was conscienceless just like people in NCRs who treat rape victims like lost election candidates, ‘Ah she also lost, sad’. Apart from being conscienceless I was also driven by gluttony, just like DP who swears to be with you and for you but only to loot you, and degrade you making you bribe them. Isn’t it making a convention? OH A COP, JUST BRIBE HIM.
‘She seems worn out, how much you want.’ The potbelly with more hair in his nose than head, stripping her cover shouted out loud. His subordinates dealing with buyers asking for their preferences ‘local or international, young or old, virgin or secondhand and for how many weeks or forever’. Shamelessly, they striped her naked to examine every asset on and inside. Like inactive and aloof citizens, I watched it all but never uttered a word, not a single word.
‘Bolo Sir, kitna, aap batao? Aapka maal hain?’ Putting his dirty and greased hands over her body, he grinned. But I was a novice in the market.
‘How much you generally take?’ Words dried inside but I somehow asked.
‘Your bitch, you say.’
‘Still’ after haggling for a while, for my old desktop machine a price was decided. I sold my baby, my first machine bought during school to those Nehru Place butchers, who will probably rip it apart and sell its parts just like organs of poor are sold. Clinching Gandhi in hand, I came out of the complex to find my CAR gone.
‘Dude where’s my car?’ I asked a security guard in blue.
‘DP took it.’ He grinned, they also wanted their share.
A Sakoda honking from behind, Swift took blunt right, rickshaw coming straight and an auto almost touching on left, enjoying ‘tujhe mein rab dikhta hain yaara mein kya karu’ from my car’s stereo, looking at me. My cousin, an accomplice on the left seat trying permutations and combinations of four words, love, kiss, miss and you with you allowed to repeat as many times as it can; to SMS a new SMS to his GF. Inside the auto, sat a few females with laptops disgusted on seeing the harassed sitting behind me. Soon traffic signal one km away turned green, I focused on the road. Finally surviving all the Dhoom’s and Schumacher clan people, I reached the exchange point, parking my car in nearby vicinity among others.
While walking up to the convicts, flashbacks of happy time flashed. She was so young, smoothest surface and sharp features but six years back. Believer of Darwin’s theory I realized, since there is someone slimmer, trendier and beautiful in my life, its time to bid adieu with the ex. But it wasn’t so easy, the first **** movie, weird places we visited and all those promises I made on her, kept clogging my mind. But I was conscienceless just like people in NCRs who treat rape victims like lost election candidates, ‘Ah she also lost, sad’. Apart from being conscienceless I was also driven by gluttony, just like DP who swears to be with you and for you but only to loot you, and degrade you making you bribe them. Isn’t it making a convention? OH A COP, JUST BRIBE HIM.
‘She seems worn out, how much you want.’ The potbelly with more hair in his nose than head, stripping her cover shouted out loud. His subordinates dealing with buyers asking for their preferences ‘local or international, young or old, virgin or secondhand and for how many weeks or forever’. Shamelessly, they striped her naked to examine every asset on and inside. Like inactive and aloof citizens, I watched it all but never uttered a word, not a single word.
‘Bolo Sir, kitna, aap batao? Aapka maal hain?’ Putting his dirty and greased hands over her body, he grinned. But I was a novice in the market.
‘How much you generally take?’ Words dried inside but I somehow asked.
‘Your bitch, you say.’
‘Still’ after haggling for a while, for my old desktop machine a price was decided. I sold my baby, my first machine bought during school to those Nehru Place butchers, who will probably rip it apart and sell its parts just like organs of poor are sold. Clinching Gandhi in hand, I came out of the complex to find my CAR gone.
‘Dude where’s my car?’ I asked a security guard in blue.
‘DP took it.’ He grinned, they also wanted their share.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Oye Lucky! Lucky Oye!
"Tu Raja ki raj dulari, mein sirf langote alla su,
Bhaang ragad kar piya karu, mein Kundi sautte alla su."
With my lips already stretched to their maximum, after listening these lines while the contessa swooped in the frame and giggling school girls came out, by god touch ho gaya mein. Itna touch ki I am writing a blog on Oye Lucky! Lucky Oye!
Kicking off with a TV anchor glorifying a thief using words which if ever India became like America, will surely be the most difficult words for Hindi GRE (Biwi ne pucha khaana kaisa bana, mein bola SANSANIKHEJ) already had my mind racing, trying to guess the story. Following scenes of Delhi Police announcing the recovery and Mr. thief relaxing inside the police station among the policemen; asking them for black shirt (black mein smart dikhta hu sirji) reflected the attitude of the main character that even a James Bond can seldom reflect.
The first twenty minutes of the film showing the young lucky; cool as ice, confident like rock and eyes with innocent dreams. Dreams of giving a greeting card, riding a bike/scooter with someone behind (not the auntiji which his dad brought) and dreams of living life kingsize. Equation with his dad, kind of friends and hotel waiter made the boy walk the way which isn't considered well. However, honest reasons behind the illegal activities kinda shifts the support towards the thief.
All Ocean's 11, 12, 13 ,..... ek taraf apna Lucky ek taraf. Sonal, the cute college girl is fantastic in her short cute role however her mummy steals the show, karare karare banane waale lete aana beta. Paresh Rawal, is one of the best actors bollywood has ever got delievering super performances of Dad with Lucky's aunty, GOGI bhai and the greedy doctor;in a way shortage of budget worked well in favor of movie because half the time everyone assumes GOGI is his dad until the doctor Handa and his wife Archana Puran Singh enters with their kid to rope in innocent superchor to use for their pursuits.
The escapes from the law's clasps were not just funny but also exposed the truth of Delhi ki police, be it the bribing or getting washing machine from the thief in the deal of passing him relevant information. Then the waitress being naughty for selling the platinum card, GOGI gifting TVs to MP's son, Handa opening hotel, Cops asking home appliances and brother money to go Hong Kong really shows how we succumb to our desires; and instead of preventing someone from walking the wrong way we encourage them to take a step more just to get what we want from them.
Finally coming to the performances, Abhay Deol is a Deol with difference, Sonal is soni kudi, Paresh Rawal, no words for him, young lucky sardar is the show stopper and DOLLY IS OFCOURSE HOOOOTtt!
Bhaang ragad kar piya karu, mein Kundi sautte alla su."
With my lips already stretched to their maximum, after listening these lines while the contessa swooped in the frame and giggling school girls came out, by god touch ho gaya mein. Itna touch ki I am writing a blog on Oye Lucky! Lucky Oye!
Kicking off with a TV anchor glorifying a thief using words which if ever India became like America, will surely be the most difficult words for Hindi GRE (Biwi ne pucha khaana kaisa bana, mein bola SANSANIKHEJ) already had my mind racing, trying to guess the story. Following scenes of Delhi Police announcing the recovery and Mr. thief relaxing inside the police station among the policemen; asking them for black shirt (black mein smart dikhta hu sirji) reflected the attitude of the main character that even a James Bond can seldom reflect.
The first twenty minutes of the film showing the young lucky; cool as ice, confident like rock and eyes with innocent dreams. Dreams of giving a greeting card, riding a bike/scooter with someone behind (not the auntiji which his dad brought) and dreams of living life kingsize. Equation with his dad, kind of friends and hotel waiter made the boy walk the way which isn't considered well. However, honest reasons behind the illegal activities kinda shifts the support towards the thief.
All Ocean's 11, 12, 13 ,..... ek taraf apna Lucky ek taraf. Sonal, the cute college girl is fantastic in her short cute role however her mummy steals the show, karare karare banane waale lete aana beta. Paresh Rawal, is one of the best actors bollywood has ever got delievering super performances of Dad with Lucky's aunty, GOGI bhai and the greedy doctor;in a way shortage of budget worked well in favor of movie because half the time everyone assumes GOGI is his dad until the doctor Handa and his wife Archana Puran Singh enters with their kid to rope in innocent superchor to use for their pursuits.
The escapes from the law's clasps were not just funny but also exposed the truth of Delhi ki police, be it the bribing or getting washing machine from the thief in the deal of passing him relevant information. Then the waitress being naughty for selling the platinum card, GOGI gifting TVs to MP's son, Handa opening hotel, Cops asking home appliances and brother money to go Hong Kong really shows how we succumb to our desires; and instead of preventing someone from walking the wrong way we encourage them to take a step more just to get what we want from them.
Finally coming to the performances, Abhay Deol is a Deol with difference, Sonal is soni kudi, Paresh Rawal, no words for him, young lucky sardar is the show stopper and DOLLY IS OFCOURSE HOOOOTtt!
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Hippie
I want to wander from city to city
Brainwashed, Ignorants, Blindfolded I pity
Forgetting the world, I want to lose my house key
Oh yes I wish to become a Hippie
In the morning get up from someone else's bed
With marijuana inside fears of mine I will shed
Nights will pass away boozing and breaking free
If someday I become a Hippie
I doodle my car, grow my beard
Anywhere anytime I can go or disappear
Stoned me and my dog will play frisbee
Once I become a Hippie
With Variegated clothes and my guitar
I want to become my life's rockstar
On seeing me people will get on their knees
If I ever become a Hippie
Brainwashed, Ignorants, Blindfolded I pity
Forgetting the world, I want to lose my house key
Oh yes I wish to become a Hippie
In the morning get up from someone else's bed
With marijuana inside fears of mine I will shed
Nights will pass away boozing and breaking free
If someday I become a Hippie
I doodle my car, grow my beard
Anywhere anytime I can go or disappear
Stoned me and my dog will play frisbee
Once I become a Hippie
With Variegated clothes and my guitar
I want to become my life's rockstar
On seeing me people will get on their knees
If I ever become a Hippie
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Alco(h)ol
Alcohol kills has been fed to my brain through my ears and eyes all through my life by everyone who came before me in this world. Accordingly, I have been condemning people who spend half of their lives figuring out whether the glass in their hand is half empty or half full. It always complicated things, I remember how my super thin friend went up to his ex’s house and punched her new boxer boyfriend and spent his next month entirely on the bed of a local hospital. How can my uncle tip his 6 digit salary to an auto rickshaw driver for a 50Rs trip to a liquor place? High, wasted, drowned, puked such words contracted my eyes but not today. Those who have slept on the road wearing a Lee t-shirt, blue jeans and converse shoes or something similar will understand what I want to convey. For others reading, well mate you are very much missing the purpose of being young.
Yes, I drank for the first time and thanks to this god damn world I won’t be drinking for the last time. I am neither a regular nor an irregular one. But with alcohol taking control over me I am able to realize the godly power the rusted metal color liquid possesses. For the first time, I see people, things, buildings, cars trembling, floundering in front of me while at all other seconds of my life it was the other way around. Eyes almost closed but ajar enough to see the world altogether from a different angle. An angle from where you can be transparent, your inside breaks free from your crooked mind and comes out despite of all your efforts to suppress. Only in two situations one becomes honest a) God/Satan standing in front of you or b) when alcohol goes down your throat.
Irrespective of the black hole you being sucked into if the drops of the stinking ambrosia reach inside your system it momentarily gives you an illusion of the world you wanted to be in fulfilling your last wish in much advance.
Yes, I drank for the first time and thanks to this god damn world I won’t be drinking for the last time. I am neither a regular nor an irregular one. But with alcohol taking control over me I am able to realize the godly power the rusted metal color liquid possesses. For the first time, I see people, things, buildings, cars trembling, floundering in front of me while at all other seconds of my life it was the other way around. Eyes almost closed but ajar enough to see the world altogether from a different angle. An angle from where you can be transparent, your inside breaks free from your crooked mind and comes out despite of all your efforts to suppress. Only in two situations one becomes honest a) God/Satan standing in front of you or b) when alcohol goes down your throat.
Irrespective of the black hole you being sucked into if the drops of the stinking ambrosia reach inside your system it momentarily gives you an illusion of the world you wanted to be in fulfilling your last wish in much advance.
Coffee Machine
First few hours of first day went in familiarizing
Expectations of the management were already rising
Boss told he wants results, profits and capital
By Good, bad, ugly or by getting physical
Finally someone asked for a break
Thanks to his wife, even boss accepted to take
Lethargically, I ambulated from here and there
Finally stopped at the coffee machine near the stairs
Espresso, premium, decaf which one, I forgot
How, till when, will I were the only thoughts
My boss came, pressed buttons and gave me a smirk
He said to get paid like the machine I should work
I stood, thinking gazed at the machine
Should I become a pet in his regime?
Suddenly someone transferred it to a take away truck
Expectations of the management were already rising
Boss told he wants results, profits and capital
By Good, bad, ugly or by getting physical
Finally someone asked for a break
Thanks to his wife, even boss accepted to take
Lethargically, I ambulated from here and there
Finally stopped at the coffee machine near the stairs
Espresso, premium, decaf which one, I forgot
How, till when, will I were the only thoughts
My boss came, pressed buttons and gave me a smirk
He said to get paid like the machine I should work
I stood, thinking gazed at the machine
Should I become a pet in his regime?
Suddenly someone transferred it to a take away truck
On the wall behind it was written, run away or get fucked
Monday, June 2, 2008
Reality TV - Part I (Roadies)
Now, since the IPL concluded, poor remote control is going to be in lot of pain again. The idiot box kept in my room has nothing sensible to offer now. Browsing through channels, even a blind man can recognize that there is absolute homogeneity of nonsense being broadcasted on each and every channel. Topping the list is the so called Reality TV. Salute to channels and directors of such series who have fooled Indian crowd like anything. Is the Indian crowd really so dumb or the dumbest in the world?
MTV Roadies 5.0, about which the ‘youngistan’ is so mad, is one extremely made up and fakest show ever possible on this earth. If I hurt your roadie emotions then please don't read further else you might loose control and end up in jail after shooting me out of rage.
Firstly, the aired interviews were fabricated with comical situations and nonsense answers from the contestants later humiliated by interviewers for the same just to create hype about the season. That too because we (the young generation) go gaga when someone's ass get kicked by the baldhead Raghu. Though, there is some sense in the guy for sure because he satirically and very nicely mocks our young generation and the hedonism associated with us. I mean how come when the question was "What do you want to do in your life?" Everybody in different cities at different time answered the same that they want to become something which they don't know. Were they coincidences?
Secondly, during certain vote out sessions, Ranvijay used to warn that if you do this, that will happen, a tie will happen etc. Slapping Probability in its face exactly same thing used to happen. Remember during Snehashish's elimination, the mastermind Raghu was already there, ridiculing Snehashish. Why? Simply because Snehashish's departure was pre-decided humiliating Probability and Random processes again on prime time television. But that was not enough, when the voted out dumb blokes and girls came back to challenge the remaining ones (Anmol v/s Prab, Sneha v/s Ashu etc), if you might have looked slightly taking your eyes away from Anmol's figure or Shambahvi's low neck, you must have seen that the tasks were clearly advantageous to the candidates who later won. Not even after seven lives, corpulent Snehashish with absurd faux passé hairstyle can hang from the water pipe for longer duration than relatively slimmer Ashutosh. Same holds for Shambhavi v/s Ankita (She and her protruding lips worst ever onscreen) or for Prabjhot v/s Anmol (Attitude - 8.5/10, Aptitude - 2/10 but I liked Anmol, too bad she have a bf).
Coming to Shambhavi, she literally gave away everything, sacrificed her dignity, bitched, sleazy acts (atleast verbally) justifying them as her strategy. Poor and obtusest girl don't know that it was MTV's strategy [;)]. Ayaz, irritating lad from Calcutta was shown the door because he was not medically fit after the accident. To conceal this change in the script, a vote out session was thrown out. Even a roulette table looked so predictable on the show.
Lastly, the finale was most comical, so called last challenges for clinching the over rated roadie trophy were getting naked, going bald, getting pierced and slapped (!!!), not the contestants but their forced team members which readily agreed under the Roadie tag. What a cliché? The only best part was Shambhavi getting one tight slap (MTV style) by Ashutosh. Why because she called him a brother and still flirted properly with everyone except brother’s friend Nihal, perfect Bollywood situation. Infact, the roadies except the finalists were made to do sillier and less adventurous tasks simply because they were brought to KL, Malaysia by MTV. But, Ranvijay credited Nihal’s and Ashu's fabulous PR skills. Do they really have any? The emotional session which was stuffed between the melodrama due to Sony Ericsson and Airtel definitely deserved accolades for catering the sponsors.
But every limit of melodrama was finally breached when Sonel (lol lol lol) decided the winner of MTV Roadies 5.0, the game goes international. However just after her vote out, she said she would have voted out Ashutosh if she had the immunity then why on earth she screwed Nihal with such a broad smile on her face? It was just because the winner was predetermined from the start and then like a sliced pizza the melodrama was served episode by episode on your television. Infact, the tie in the last show was absolutely certain then what was the point of having the tasks? C'mon just to get Shambhavi slapped [;)], simple. My ten dollars on Ashutosh being MTV’s unit person too!
Finally coming to the roadie’s spirit, just recite words like F***, D***, beep, beep, beep etc and their Hindi translations like nursery rhymes and BAM! You are a Roadie. Yeah, yeah yeah F*** you I am a roadie. Now on finding young generation so faltoo & vella, MTV have started roadie awards and something on Orkut is coming up as well. Join it because it is your life screw it up the way you want but don’t criticize females of your house for hooking upon saas-bahu because enjoying the plotting and bitching of roadies you are no different. I used to love MTV but now less music and more Ekta Kapoor it is becoming in a subtle way. Splitsvilla is another degrading stuff coming up. Reality TV! ENJOY!
Thursday, April 17, 2008
One Night at B2-118
Stupid song in the player, Satisfy your girlfriend titled spam in the mailbox, heaps of tea-cups, scattered IEEE papers, dust covered books, empty register and half read novel lying on the table surmise this night along with the processor of my ancient computer which at this moment( for you reading, it will be that moment) is trying to decode some alien message hidden inside a video in which Arnold Schwarzenegger on his Harley Davidson jumps from the bridge. Don't scratch your head, the video is from Terminator 2.
What so special about this night? Actually everything, it is very much similar to the nights before the judgment day as shown in Terminator 2. Just the same way, Arnold with that stupid kid whose hair were poking his eyes, and sexy Linda Hamilton was preparing for the final encounter with bad Cyborg, Robert Patrick; I am trying to start my bachelor's project soon to be defended in the panel which will be comprising of many species which are 100 times villainous than bad Cyborg of Terminator 2 or cruel aliens of War of the worlds.
But unlike the movie, there is noone even remotely resembling Linda Hamilton to help me out. It is only me and things mentioned in first paragraph trying to prepare me for coming BTP defense. Hours are passing away with same speed Advertisements are offered to futile Indian cricketers; and the results from my algorithms seems as far as world cup of any sport coming to India. Now just like our news channels wait for some 5-6 year old kid to fall into a tunnel or pit; I am waiting for something to come out of the Arnold's video but my computer is behaving like our politicians keeping me waiting for output. When MATLAB is eating out most of the RAM, Mozilla is angry like Raj Thackrey of MNS demanding reservation of RAM for itself and other sons of Mozilla like download helper etc. Seeing such protests from Mozilla, Moviemaker, Video Converter are asking for allotment of RAM too under the umbrella of OBC and reservation category for less used applications while MSword and Gtalk protesting against such demands of the utility wise backward classes of my computer.
Now I can go on and on just like SRK babbles about his IPL team but I should not; rather since Sachin Tendulkar hopes to play next world cup too, I can also dream to complete my project well before deadline. Holy shit! It is almost dawn but damn my programs; they are not ready to strip naked like Kim Kardashian and show some nice curves.
What so special about this night? Actually everything, it is very much similar to the nights before the judgment day as shown in Terminator 2. Just the same way, Arnold with that stupid kid whose hair were poking his eyes, and sexy Linda Hamilton was preparing for the final encounter with bad Cyborg, Robert Patrick; I am trying to start my bachelor's project soon to be defended in the panel which will be comprising of many species which are 100 times villainous than bad Cyborg of Terminator 2 or cruel aliens of War of the worlds.
But unlike the movie, there is noone even remotely resembling Linda Hamilton to help me out. It is only me and things mentioned in first paragraph trying to prepare me for coming BTP defense. Hours are passing away with same speed Advertisements are offered to futile Indian cricketers; and the results from my algorithms seems as far as world cup of any sport coming to India. Now just like our news channels wait for some 5-6 year old kid to fall into a tunnel or pit; I am waiting for something to come out of the Arnold's video but my computer is behaving like our politicians keeping me waiting for output. When MATLAB is eating out most of the RAM, Mozilla is angry like Raj Thackrey of MNS demanding reservation of RAM for itself and other sons of Mozilla like download helper etc. Seeing such protests from Mozilla, Moviemaker, Video Converter are asking for allotment of RAM too under the umbrella of OBC and reservation category for less used applications while MSword and Gtalk protesting against such demands of the utility wise backward classes of my computer.
Now I can go on and on just like SRK babbles about his IPL team but I should not; rather since Sachin Tendulkar hopes to play next world cup too, I can also dream to complete my project well before deadline. Holy shit! It is almost dawn but damn my programs; they are not ready to strip naked like Kim Kardashian and show some nice curves.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Refurbished
Something infact everything must be looking new here. Well, yeah
and blame the filtering systems at my place for my earlier state of
lassitude , because Blogspot was banned. Can you guess what for?
Blogspot = Blo+gspot. Yes so the word turned on the alarms and
rang the bells of the filters prohibiting bloggers pathetic & better
than me along with me. But now we are back. So keep checking
and refreshing. God bless You.
and blame the filtering systems at my place for my earlier state of
lassitude , because Blogspot was banned. Can you guess what for?
Blogspot = Blo+gspot. Yes so the word turned on the alarms and
rang the bells of the filters prohibiting bloggers pathetic & better
than me along with me. But now we are back. So keep checking
and refreshing. God bless You.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Vodka v/s Assignment
The night was becoming younger with every passing second. Stars scattered across the sky along with full moon made everything visible even at half past one in the early morning. Amidst the cries of jackals and barking of dogs,I walked on the road with a bottle of
Smirn-Off vodka wondering what to do?
With my slippers in one hand and vodka in another,I managed to bypass the watchman snoring at the front desk in Sports complex. In the absence of electricity only light illuminating my path to the roof was coming from the sky which managed to seep through every possible nooks and corners. Tube lights,bulbs of almost all rooms except few in the adjacent girl's hostel were sleeping as well. I wondered what the awakened ones were doing? Peeping through was impossible as thick curtains on their windows made view of other side nearly impossible .Even I was glad to have them there. As on full moon, probability of encountering ghosts or scary creatures was maximum.
Somehow crawled up the tin to reach the topmost point of the building, during which slippers slipped from my hands and crashed into some metal. Will the guard come into senses? Nah! said my dizzy mind, control of which was getting transfered to the alcohol running along with the blood by then. Sitting there like an owl sitting on a branch of tree for 2 hours thought about the failed relationships, screwed up projects, thinness of mine, dropping CPIs, increasing terrorism, others having sex, tons of reports which made me stand and reach the edge of the roof. With the bottle on my forehead, stretched arms bathing in the moonlight I appeared as some sort of ghost if not an angel. With my eyes closed, hands stretched in a crucifixion style I was moments and one step away from you know what.
TRING TRING ! TRING TRING! stupid mobile phone in my pocket spoiled my mood of committing s*****e.
"Hello", Irritated to the utmost extent I spoke looking at the watch which indicated some four in the early morning.
"Where are you man?" asked one of my friend loudly that even the girl in the next hostel can hear.
"I was on the top of SAC about to jump from the roof." I was determined.
"C'mon dude! You can do that some other night. I need you here right now." I guess he missed my words.
"I am jumping from the roof of SAC on the ground and not on the second roof." I repeated
to make the dolt understand.
"Why the fuck you make senseless bets? I will treat you in canteen. Come to room soon else it wont be good for you either" He was babbling without listening to me.
"What deal can be bigger than deal of mine. I am fucking jumping from here" I was loosing it.
"You forgot we need to submit the assignments of Wireless communication & VLSI first thing in the morning by 8.05am. Now get your ass down here or the professor will make your life hell enough compelling you to do s*****e." The fatso reminded me of the assingments, thoughts of which began to liberate my mind from the grip of vodka inside.
Picking my slippers from the dinner plate and placing the vodka bottle adjacent to lunch box of the watchman who was still in his deep slumber, I was on my way back to MATLAB.
Smirn-Off vodka wondering what to do?
With my slippers in one hand and vodka in another,I managed to bypass the watchman snoring at the front desk in Sports complex. In the absence of electricity only light illuminating my path to the roof was coming from the sky which managed to seep through every possible nooks and corners. Tube lights,bulbs of almost all rooms except few in the adjacent girl's hostel were sleeping as well. I wondered what the awakened ones were doing? Peeping through was impossible as thick curtains on their windows made view of other side nearly impossible .Even I was glad to have them there. As on full moon, probability of encountering ghosts or scary creatures was maximum.
Somehow crawled up the tin to reach the topmost point of the building, during which slippers slipped from my hands and crashed into some metal. Will the guard come into senses? Nah! said my dizzy mind, control of which was getting transfered to the alcohol running along with the blood by then. Sitting there like an owl sitting on a branch of tree for 2 hours thought about the failed relationships, screwed up projects, thinness of mine, dropping CPIs, increasing terrorism, others having sex, tons of reports which made me stand and reach the edge of the roof. With the bottle on my forehead, stretched arms bathing in the moonlight I appeared as some sort of ghost if not an angel. With my eyes closed, hands stretched in a crucifixion style I was moments and one step away from you know what.
TRING TRING ! TRING TRING! stupid mobile phone in my pocket spoiled my mood of committing s*****e.
"Hello", Irritated to the utmost extent I spoke looking at the watch which indicated some four in the early morning.
"Where are you man?" asked one of my friend loudly that even the girl in the next hostel can hear.
"I was on the top of SAC about to jump from the roof." I was determined.
"C'mon dude! You can do that some other night. I need you here right now." I guess he missed my words.
"I am jumping from the roof of SAC on the ground and not on the second roof." I repeated
to make the dolt understand.
"Why the fuck you make senseless bets? I will treat you in canteen. Come to room soon else it wont be good for you either" He was babbling without listening to me.
"What deal can be bigger than deal of mine. I am fucking jumping from here" I was loosing it.
"You forgot we need to submit the assignments of Wireless communication & VLSI first thing in the morning by 8.05am. Now get your ass down here or the professor will make your life hell enough compelling you to do s*****e." The fatso reminded me of the assingments, thoughts of which began to liberate my mind from the grip of vodka inside.
Picking my slippers from the dinner plate and placing the vodka bottle adjacent to lunch box of the watchman who was still in his deep slumber, I was on my way back to MATLAB.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Life as We dont know
You think you are great, awesome, special, cool or different than others. Well you idiot it is not so because you are just like anyone else around, simply a product developed by your family who first planned how many they want to produce and how much they want to invest in you depending upon whether you are a male or female.
And according to their calculations for a better future or to avoid circumstances of giving a huge dowry you are nourished with expensive education in the institutions where you come in touch with other products which are also there for improvement,processing and development to adjust in the future. You learn and adopt good factors from them to increase your market value and sometimes dent the other's when there is a competition between your stocks i.e. the relationships you make with each other or in front of the market i.e. the society . And how much the others invest love, care etc into these decides the value and future of your stocks which explains why your relationships often crashes when there is not appropriate contribution from you or the one interested in a collaboration with you. And once you finishes undergoing packaging, chiseling etc in these expensive molding centers you finally become a complete ready to sell product.
You then either find a buyer for yourself or like earlier times are auctioned in the society which is the market where buyers and sellers are ready to either sell or purchase you out in their efforts to reap maximum benefits from whatever is available be it high salaried companion or bringing an Honday city along bride. The benefits and profits are thoroughly estimated. And then you with the one who either purchased or with the one who you purchased will go through your available resources will decide to produce some product according to the circumstances. And the product will then become the producer and the cycle keeps going on and on and on.
So may be the ways of developing, upbringing you etc might be different but in the end you are just like the others in the market of society where you are a product and the relationships are not much different than stocks. So All hail Warren Buffet!
And according to their calculations for a better future or to avoid circumstances of giving a huge dowry you are nourished with expensive education in the institutions where you come in touch with other products which are also there for improvement,processing and development to adjust in the future. You learn and adopt good factors from them to increase your market value and sometimes dent the other's when there is a competition between your stocks i.e. the relationships you make with each other or in front of the market i.e. the society . And how much the others invest love, care etc into these decides the value and future of your stocks which explains why your relationships often crashes when there is not appropriate contribution from you or the one interested in a collaboration with you. And once you finishes undergoing packaging, chiseling etc in these expensive molding centers you finally become a complete ready to sell product.
You then either find a buyer for yourself or like earlier times are auctioned in the society which is the market where buyers and sellers are ready to either sell or purchase you out in their efforts to reap maximum benefits from whatever is available be it high salaried companion or bringing an Honday city along bride. The benefits and profits are thoroughly estimated. And then you with the one who either purchased or with the one who you purchased will go through your available resources will decide to produce some product according to the circumstances. And the product will then become the producer and the cycle keeps going on and on and on.
So may be the ways of developing, upbringing you etc might be different but in the end you are just like the others in the market of society where you are a product and the relationships are not much different than stocks. So All hail Warren Buffet!
Sunday, March 9, 2008
I Sinned
Light is there but they cannot see
Amidst the huge crowd I feel free
They all seemed sad and stunned
It appears something terrible they learned
I am shouting but they didn't listen
My worries, my anxieties deepened
Unheard, neglected I went inside
To see for all this, who is behind
In front of my room was huge crowd
Some sad, some numb while other frowned
Made my way across to see what they have found
And it was me, from the fan hanging down
Amidst the huge crowd I feel free
They all seemed sad and stunned
It appears something terrible they learned
I am shouting but they didn't listen
My worries, my anxieties deepened
Unheard, neglected I went inside
To see for all this, who is behind
In front of my room was huge crowd
Some sad, some numb while other frowned
Made my way across to see what they have found
And it was me, from the fan hanging down
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Crucifixion
I killed her today
Though she tried to run away
But her sins made her fall
She screamed and made her last call
The knife went deep inside her breast
Tears rolled down as pain reached its crest
Blood of hers was coloring the ground
She wasn't able to produce anymore sound
While waving goodbye, she pointed towards a drawer
To get something out, towards it she crawled
I opened it and found a letter
After reading which I was completely shattered
I cried and cursed myself for my impatience
Because it was the letter of her innocence
I took her in my arms and asked her to try
She smiled and said,"May be you will stay alive"
PS: The above mentioned is purely an imaginary situation and is not
inspired from any living individual so don't waste your brains thinking
if this one is written due to you or anyone else. It was just to take
the anger out of staying in a lecture for two straight hours.
Though she tried to run away
But her sins made her fall
She screamed and made her last call
The knife went deep inside her breast
Tears rolled down as pain reached its crest
Blood of hers was coloring the ground
She wasn't able to produce anymore sound
While waving goodbye, she pointed towards a drawer
To get something out, towards it she crawled
I opened it and found a letter
After reading which I was completely shattered
I cried and cursed myself for my impatience
Because it was the letter of her innocence
I took her in my arms and asked her to try
She smiled and said,"May be you will stay alive"
PS: The above mentioned is purely an imaginary situation and is not
inspired from any living individual so don't waste your brains thinking
if this one is written due to you or anyone else. It was just to take
the anger out of staying in a lecture for two straight hours.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Black Hole
Yesterday, while drinking beer with friends thoughts surfaced inside our minds that good bye to this place is mere 3 months away and we will be again packing our bags and beddings but only this time it wont meant for keeping them into the store room but to take them back to the place I hardly find as my home anymore. The only place where I feel safe, I feel happy, I feel to take inner horrors and fears out is the Room No-B2-118. Am I trying to over exaggerate the nostalgia which is all set to haunt and rape our minds? Frankly, I don’t know may be I am already inside its grip and being nomadic doesn’t look appreciable anymore.
Life has been a whore always fucking up with my mind by leaving in front of me a myriad of doors, by ejaculating confusions and doubts about the future be it when schooling came to an end or at present when curtains are about to close on the college show. At one side Kurt Cobain, Jimmy Hendrix and Osbourne telling to sell the world and sing for the moment while at the other corner identities like Steve Jobbs, Google brothers or even Ranvir Shourie depicting that the real success is so many miles away. An era will come to an end and every one of us who all converged to this place 4 years back will diverge again to the worlds of our fantasies and of our choices. However, after getting there only I can tell if I made the right choice. However, throwing parties for such dark and unpredictable lanes are still worth because after all chances of everyone sitting together will seldom come again.
Anyways Fuck it! I will have one more beer.
Life has been a whore always fucking up with my mind by leaving in front of me a myriad of doors, by ejaculating confusions and doubts about the future be it when schooling came to an end or at present when curtains are about to close on the college show. At one side Kurt Cobain, Jimmy Hendrix and Osbourne telling to sell the world and sing for the moment while at the other corner identities like Steve Jobbs, Google brothers or even Ranvir Shourie depicting that the real success is so many miles away. An era will come to an end and every one of us who all converged to this place 4 years back will diverge again to the worlds of our fantasies and of our choices. However, after getting there only I can tell if I made the right choice. However, throwing parties for such dark and unpredictable lanes are still worth because after all chances of everyone sitting together will seldom come again.
Anyways Fuck it! I will have one more beer.
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