wtf! how did these latent lumps of lard latch onto the great mystery? loud noise was a prerogative of the youth last i checked. this flagrant disregard for, and blatant encroachment of, our territory will not be suffered. there ought to be a law against people like them. may they suffer ear infection for 9 years. may puss and fungus infect their auditory accessories! reverse psychology ought to be banned!
who gave them the right to take away from us the right to wasteful endeavours of doubtful veracity. darnations in carnations! they have taken away the only weapon we had against the onset of adult tyranny. the means to thwart the best laid plans, with deviously scheming minds, of incorrigible individuals (aka mum and dad). how will we find expression now, in this blasé existence surrounded by blatant banality, eternal ennui and asinine angst. life and freedom as we know it wont be the same again.
pheww! i am so glad i aint young anymore. there is hope for those of us who insist on not acting our respective ages. hehe this post seems totally out of character. i decided to take up the rant for the tender blossoms out there unaware of this fiendish plan against all juvenile delinquents. may your tribe increase.
cheers!
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
Minutes of the Meeting
i had an important meeting today. i have been shifted internally to another project. "optimal re-allocation of in-house resources". fuck MBA in general and project managers (jargon toting man-eaters) in specific! saala aadmi se commodity bana diya!
this was an important meeting as i was to be introduced to the rest of the team members and assigned work for the rest of the week. the meeting lasted all of 1 hour. presented here are the minutes of the meeting in 15 min chunks.
1. i wrote down my name. i was supposed to tell it to everyone later on. then i heard someone mention MQ processing inside of a very long and completely meaningless sentence. so that went down too. and the rest is the result of my very fruitful imagination.
i thought a little bit of charming rusticity would help elicit a meaningful response to the useless chit chat that was going on around me.
the MQ just got stuck inside.
2. this was in response to a "bekaar hai" scribbled on the other indian colleagues notebook. the scribble beneath it just followed of its own accord.
i think its meant to depict the aimless wandering that the entire meeting, and the discussions therein, were headed off to.
i have serious misgivings about this corporate entity called Meeting from now on. its a perfect example of machiavellianism of the top order.
3. aah this is a good one. there was this lady sitting diagonally opposite to me on the left side. so this is basically a view of her right side. this left feels right!
she looked in her mid-30's. beautiful full auburn hair, high cheekbones, slanting nose, pink lips, long curly eyelashes. sigh! she sounded exactly like a gum toting husker from alabama. my dream gal :)
4. aha! last but not the least... actually definitely not the least. this is my favorite one.
at this point the meeting had almost reached a crescendo of garish voices all combed together into a fine symphony that would have put beethoven to shame. if irritation wanted a perfect pitch and frequency for a sound wave, the meeting had it.
thats when i snapped. something went "floop" inside me. notice the different expressions on these robotic faces. benign, troubled, angry and just plain naughty (from left to right). its amazing how, by varying the angle of the eyebrows and the length and distention of the arms, one can bring about a complete change in perception of emotion. we humans are solidly entrenched in evolution eh? and no way out. (ok that was completely out of context. but i thought up this line and it sounded so cool to me that i had to put it in here)
which reminds me, i am currently reading "how to survive a robot uprising" by daniel h. wilson. its an amusing faux survival guide on... you guessed it, how to survive a robot uprising. but the point where it departs from fantasy is that it uses real world scenarios to lay out its tips and tricks. it does not use any fantastical examples which are outside of current research's reach. its fun to read if you are a robotic enthusiast. How To Survive a Robot Uprising : Tips on Defending Yourself Against the Coming Rebellion check it out!
thats it for now folks. may the forks be with you!
this was an important meeting as i was to be introduced to the rest of the team members and assigned work for the rest of the week. the meeting lasted all of 1 hour. presented here are the minutes of the meeting in 15 min chunks.
1. i wrote down my name. i was supposed to tell it to everyone later on. then i heard someone mention MQ processing inside of a very long and completely meaningless sentence. so that went down too. and the rest is the result of my very fruitful imagination.i thought a little bit of charming rusticity would help elicit a meaningful response to the useless chit chat that was going on around me.
the MQ just got stuck inside.
2. this was in response to a "bekaar hai" scribbled on the other indian colleagues notebook. the scribble beneath it just followed of its own accord.i think its meant to depict the aimless wandering that the entire meeting, and the discussions therein, were headed off to.
i have serious misgivings about this corporate entity called Meeting from now on. its a perfect example of machiavellianism of the top order.
3. aah this is a good one. there was this lady sitting diagonally opposite to me on the left side. so this is basically a view of her right side. this left feels right!she looked in her mid-30's. beautiful full auburn hair, high cheekbones, slanting nose, pink lips, long curly eyelashes. sigh! she sounded exactly like a gum toting husker from alabama. my dream gal :)
4. aha! last but not the least... actually definitely not the least. this is my favorite one.at this point the meeting had almost reached a crescendo of garish voices all combed together into a fine symphony that would have put beethoven to shame. if irritation wanted a perfect pitch and frequency for a sound wave, the meeting had it.
thats when i snapped. something went "floop" inside me. notice the different expressions on these robotic faces. benign, troubled, angry and just plain naughty (from left to right). its amazing how, by varying the angle of the eyebrows and the length and distention of the arms, one can bring about a complete change in perception of emotion. we humans are solidly entrenched in evolution eh? and no way out. (ok that was completely out of context. but i thought up this line and it sounded so cool to me that i had to put it in here)
which reminds me, i am currently reading "how to survive a robot uprising" by daniel h. wilson. its an amusing faux survival guide on... you guessed it, how to survive a robot uprising. but the point where it departs from fantasy is that it uses real world scenarios to lay out its tips and tricks. it does not use any fantastical examples which are outside of current research's reach. its fun to read if you are a robotic enthusiast. How To Survive a Robot Uprising : Tips on Defending Yourself Against the Coming Rebellion check it out!
thats it for now folks. may the forks be with you!
30th Street Station, Philadelphia
in memory of the men and women of the pennsylvania railroad who laid down their lives for our country 1941-1945
seen on trucks in India
for some strange reason i felt like putting down the slogans seen behind merry truckers in India. some of them are insanely funny, others inanely philosophical, and yet others utterly romantique. some are absolute trash. and the atrocious spellings are rarely hard to miss. but love em or hate em, you can't avoid noticing them.
here is a list of some that i remember. i would really appreciate if others can chip in with the ones they remember
1. main toh noo hi chaloongi.
2. buri nazar waale tera mooh kaala
3. aaj jalandhar kal phagwaade, aaja mere naal, le chaloon nadi ke kinaare
4. ok tata horan please
5. use dippar at night
6. raju ki nakhrewaali
7. chammak chhallo zara dheere chalo
8. diriver doosre kone mein baitha hai
9. dekho, magar pyaar se
10. balvinder te satender di gaddi
11. jagah milne par saide di jaayegi
12. abbe kahan bhaaga jaa raha hai
13. qismat apni, khudai uski
14. chal di ban than ke
15. gussa dikhayega, mooh ke bal paayega
16. jai mata di
17. ...
thats all i can remember for now. cant seem to remember the really long one's. these one liners have stayed with me from my countless trips shuttling between meerut-delhi in roadways buses. i would invariably end up chuckling to myself. another very useful past-time used to be creating arbitrary formula's from vehicle registration numbers. for eg. UP 15B 8421: 8/4 = 2/1
i would allow myself sin, cos, tan, log (to any base), exponent, and other standard mathematical notation. it was fun if you couldnt change the ordering of the numbers. 9363: log (base 3) 9 = 6/3
i know a simpler version exists, but i liked making it complex. but thats just me. :)
try it all you dragging-your-ass-through-public-transportation people out there. it sure was fun for me.
cheers!
here is a list of some that i remember. i would really appreciate if others can chip in with the ones they remember
1. main toh noo hi chaloongi.
2. buri nazar waale tera mooh kaala
3. aaj jalandhar kal phagwaade, aaja mere naal, le chaloon nadi ke kinaare
4. ok tata horan please
5. use dippar at night
6. raju ki nakhrewaali
7. chammak chhallo zara dheere chalo
8. diriver doosre kone mein baitha hai
9. dekho, magar pyaar se
10. balvinder te satender di gaddi
11. jagah milne par saide di jaayegi
12. abbe kahan bhaaga jaa raha hai
13. qismat apni, khudai uski
14. chal di ban than ke
15. gussa dikhayega, mooh ke bal paayega
16. jai mata di
17. ...
thats all i can remember for now. cant seem to remember the really long one's. these one liners have stayed with me from my countless trips shuttling between meerut-delhi in roadways buses. i would invariably end up chuckling to myself. another very useful past-time used to be creating arbitrary formula's from vehicle registration numbers. for eg. UP 15B 8421: 8/4 = 2/1
i would allow myself sin, cos, tan, log (to any base), exponent, and other standard mathematical notation. it was fun if you couldnt change the ordering of the numbers. 9363: log (base 3) 9 = 6/3
i know a simpler version exists, but i liked making it complex. but thats just me. :)
try it all you dragging-your-ass-through-public-transportation people out there. it sure was fun for me.
cheers!
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
20 somethings
Apurv has tagged me. Some of the things I would have written are already on Apurv's list, so that robs me of some of my material. But whatever is left, here goes:
20. I am a very passionate person; a multitude of them in my life.
19. I love talking. Plain and simple. Sometimes I can talk for hours on end. More specifically, I love to talk about myself.
18. A lot of people think they know me. The truth is they know a lot about me, not "me".
17. I am a consummate charmer. I've charmed my way through many a sticky situations.
16. I am a control freak. Just for my own life though.
15. Sometimes I can show this innate capacity for cruelty; and revel in it.
14. For me, detachment is permanent; so is disillusionment.
13. I am a total gadgets freak.
12. I have an uncanny capability for tolerance. My friends list spans people of all categories; rich, poor, snobs, sods, pseudo's, intellectuals, et al.
11. I am a strict believer in the inherent goodness of Homo Sapiens.
10. I love helping people. Sometimes I will go out of my way to do something for a complete stranger. It just feels nice. And I dont like the acknowledgement of such help afterwards.
9. I am highly opinionated; sometimes I will shove them opinions in your face.
8. I am a case of extreme procrastination. I dont think its a habit; more like a way of life.
7. 8 has led me to ignore a lot of my passions in life. I am slowly picking up where I left off.
6. I think coming to America was one of the biggest mistakes of my life.
5. I don't think I want to remain in IT for more than 4 years from now.
4. I am a very moody person.
3. Sometimes I will be influenced by peer pressure, or a need to fit in with a crowd. I have to consciously bring myself back to yoodle-do!
2. I tend to get carried away with my emotions sometimes; and I seriously need anger management.
1. I lurve eating.
There it is. I don't have anyone else to pass on this tag to. Cheers!
20. I am a very passionate person; a multitude of them in my life.
19. I love talking. Plain and simple. Sometimes I can talk for hours on end. More specifically, I love to talk about myself.
18. A lot of people think they know me. The truth is they know a lot about me, not "me".
17. I am a consummate charmer. I've charmed my way through many a sticky situations.
16. I am a control freak. Just for my own life though.
15. Sometimes I can show this innate capacity for cruelty; and revel in it.
14. For me, detachment is permanent; so is disillusionment.
13. I am a total gadgets freak.
12. I have an uncanny capability for tolerance. My friends list spans people of all categories; rich, poor, snobs, sods, pseudo's, intellectuals, et al.
11. I am a strict believer in the inherent goodness of Homo Sapiens.
10. I love helping people. Sometimes I will go out of my way to do something for a complete stranger. It just feels nice. And I dont like the acknowledgement of such help afterwards.
9. I am highly opinionated; sometimes I will shove them opinions in your face.
8. I am a case of extreme procrastination. I dont think its a habit; more like a way of life.
7. 8 has led me to ignore a lot of my passions in life. I am slowly picking up where I left off.
6. I think coming to America was one of the biggest mistakes of my life.
5. I don't think I want to remain in IT for more than 4 years from now.
4. I am a very moody person.
3. Sometimes I will be influenced by peer pressure, or a need to fit in with a crowd. I have to consciously bring myself back to yoodle-do!
2. I tend to get carried away with my emotions sometimes; and I seriously need anger management.
1. I lurve eating.
There it is. I don't have anyone else to pass on this tag to. Cheers!
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
live on 2 legs
just thought i'd like to record my travel iternary for yesterday. why? it was so damned long thats why! so here goes:
1. woke up 4:29 am in Avenil, NJ
2. reached Metropark, NJ at 5:00 am.
3. idled for 55 mins.
4. caught the train from Metropark to Trenton, NJ at 5:55 am.
5. switched trains at Trenton at 6:45 am to get to Philadelphia, PA.
6. reached 30th Street Station, Philadelphia at 7:30 am
7. took the cab to West Chester, PA (encountered a bitchy cab driver who didn't know where the hell we were going or how to get there. had to travel using my general sense of direction. thats why i am still quite shocked at how i managed to reach my apartment)
8. reached West Chester at 8:30 am.
9. packed my bags and took a shower.
9. caught the 9:15 am bus (SEPTA 104) to 69th Street Terminal in Philadelphia.
10. reached 69th Street Terminal at 10:00 am.
11. took a cab from 69th Street Terminal to Philadelphia International Airport.
12. reached the Airport at 11:00 am.
13. took 30 mins to check in my bag, and 15 mins after that for security check. (long queues. the processes by themselves took just 5-10 mins. raises a pertinent question)
14. waited at the airport for my flight for another 45 mins.
15. caught my flight out to Detroit, MI at 12:30 pm. (one old guy on the flight was highly amusing. he had glasses as thick as the Hubble telescope. he would take them off and bury his nose, quite literally, to read. everytime i looked at him do that, i couldn't help but smile)
16. this is the point where i start losing my sense of time. reached Detroit sometime.
17. had to change my gate of departure.
18. caught my flight out to Dallas/Ft. Worth, TX at 3:30 pm. (at one point the plane was flying over a perfect carpet of clouds. it was breathtaking)
19. reached Dallas/Ft. Worth at 5:50 pm (i think)
20. my flight to Lubbock, TX wasn't confirmed so had to check out my baggage.
21. went to Terminal A to check with American Airlines if they had a flight out to Lubbock. ticket: $982.00. the expression on my face: priceless.
22. went to Terminal E to check with Continental and NorthWest. -ditto-
23. took a cab to the Dallas Lovefield airport to check with SouthWest.
24. purchased a standby ticket.
25. took 45 mins to go through the security check-in. (i was "marked" for extra security checks. got frisked by a burly swarthy female, who could easily have picked me up and broken me in 2 if she so desired. of course she didn't)
26. got to my gate of departure and found a halloween decked counter, empty. perhaps that was the joke they were trying to pull. served by ghosts. "you can't see us and we can't serve you. have a safe flight."
27. waited and waited and waited. and after an onerous amount of waiting, i finally got my ticket confirmed and took the 9:15 pm filght out to Lubbock.
28. reached Lubbock at 10:10 pm.
29. met Rishu (my ex-roommate) who drove me home.
30. diverted to get some food and called up my friends over here.
31. went to their place to catch a bit of the India Vs Sri Lanka match.
32. came back home at 2:30 am.
33. called up home and talked for a bit.
34. kicked off to sleep finally at 4:30 am.
i feel great today. how much energy can one person really pack into this tiny frail body! a big thanx to all those people who kept me amused on each of these stopovers. you people rock!
1. woke up 4:29 am in Avenil, NJ
2. reached Metropark, NJ at 5:00 am.
3. idled for 55 mins.
4. caught the train from Metropark to Trenton, NJ at 5:55 am.
5. switched trains at Trenton at 6:45 am to get to Philadelphia, PA.
6. reached 30th Street Station, Philadelphia at 7:30 am
7. took the cab to West Chester, PA (encountered a bitchy cab driver who didn't know where the hell we were going or how to get there. had to travel using my general sense of direction. thats why i am still quite shocked at how i managed to reach my apartment)
8. reached West Chester at 8:30 am.
9. packed my bags and took a shower.
9. caught the 9:15 am bus (SEPTA 104) to 69th Street Terminal in Philadelphia.
10. reached 69th Street Terminal at 10:00 am.
11. took a cab from 69th Street Terminal to Philadelphia International Airport.
12. reached the Airport at 11:00 am.
13. took 30 mins to check in my bag, and 15 mins after that for security check. (long queues. the processes by themselves took just 5-10 mins. raises a pertinent question)
14. waited at the airport for my flight for another 45 mins.
15. caught my flight out to Detroit, MI at 12:30 pm. (one old guy on the flight was highly amusing. he had glasses as thick as the Hubble telescope. he would take them off and bury his nose, quite literally, to read. everytime i looked at him do that, i couldn't help but smile)
16. this is the point where i start losing my sense of time. reached Detroit sometime.
17. had to change my gate of departure.
18. caught my flight out to Dallas/Ft. Worth, TX at 3:30 pm. (at one point the plane was flying over a perfect carpet of clouds. it was breathtaking)
19. reached Dallas/Ft. Worth at 5:50 pm (i think)
20. my flight to Lubbock, TX wasn't confirmed so had to check out my baggage.
21. went to Terminal A to check with American Airlines if they had a flight out to Lubbock. ticket: $982.00. the expression on my face: priceless.
22. went to Terminal E to check with Continental and NorthWest. -ditto-
23. took a cab to the Dallas Lovefield airport to check with SouthWest.
24. purchased a standby ticket.
25. took 45 mins to go through the security check-in. (i was "marked" for extra security checks. got frisked by a burly swarthy female, who could easily have picked me up and broken me in 2 if she so desired. of course she didn't)
26. got to my gate of departure and found a halloween decked counter, empty. perhaps that was the joke they were trying to pull. served by ghosts. "you can't see us and we can't serve you. have a safe flight."
27. waited and waited and waited. and after an onerous amount of waiting, i finally got my ticket confirmed and took the 9:15 pm filght out to Lubbock.
28. reached Lubbock at 10:10 pm.
29. met Rishu (my ex-roommate) who drove me home.
30. diverted to get some food and called up my friends over here.
31. went to their place to catch a bit of the India Vs Sri Lanka match.
32. came back home at 2:30 am.
33. called up home and talked for a bit.
34. kicked off to sleep finally at 4:30 am.
i feel great today. how much energy can one person really pack into this tiny frail body! a big thanx to all those people who kept me amused on each of these stopovers. you people rock!
Friday, October 28, 2005
flock
browsers are old hat. there has been no significant enhancement in the browser experience since the ancient days of NCSA Mosaic (read up on the history of Mosaic here). browsers have basically evolved to model themselves around the data that is being streamed to users. going from basic text to images to multimedia. today a browser can let you view/interact with dynamic content, but not much more. the browser itself acts just as a window to the world (wide web).
all this is about to change with a new browser on the block. Flock. the internet paradigm is slowly shifting towards communal activities. orkut, hi5, friendster, blogging, flickr, et al being strong cases in point. Flock is based on the mozilla/firefox codebase and extends it to allow accessing some of these communal services from "inside" the browser. some of the services that it provides is, communal favorites (share your favorite links with other people using the "StumbleUpon" toolbar and "del.icio.us"), access multiple blog services from inside the browser, upload/access flickr photo services, et al. i use the StumbleUpon feature quite regularly now. you can rate the websites you stumbleupon for others to see. and you can select what subject matter Stumbleupon will spew at you. it's pretty neat; check it out.
so here is your chance to test a "developer preview" of the new flock browser. please be warned that this is an early, pre-release, version of the browser. use it with extreme prejudice. it is not meant as a replacement for your regular browser... yet.
Step 1: Open this link in your current browser: http://www.flock.com/developer/download/preview/
Step 2: Most people should select/download the Windows version. If you know better, or are the owner of an exotic/alternative operating system, go ahead and knock yourself out.
For a list of 13 things you can do with flock: http://www.flock.com/fiveways/togetstarted/13.php
laters. and may the forks be with you.
all this is about to change with a new browser on the block. Flock. the internet paradigm is slowly shifting towards communal activities. orkut, hi5, friendster, blogging, flickr, et al being strong cases in point. Flock is based on the mozilla/firefox codebase and extends it to allow accessing some of these communal services from "inside" the browser. some of the services that it provides is, communal favorites (share your favorite links with other people using the "StumbleUpon" toolbar and "del.icio.us"), access multiple blog services from inside the browser, upload/access flickr photo services, et al. i use the StumbleUpon feature quite regularly now. you can rate the websites you stumbleupon for others to see. and you can select what subject matter Stumbleupon will spew at you. it's pretty neat; check it out.
so here is your chance to test a "developer preview" of the new flock browser. please be warned that this is an early, pre-release, version of the browser. use it with extreme prejudice. it is not meant as a replacement for your regular browser... yet.
Step 1: Open this link in your current browser: http://www.flock.com/developer
Step 2: Most people should select/download the Windows version. If you know better, or are the owner of an exotic/alternative operating system, go ahead and knock yourself out.
For a list of 13 things you can do with flock: http://www.flock.com/fiveways/togetstarted/13.php
laters. and may the forks be with you.
strange days
strange days are upon me. to quote another dialogue from a movie, "life has taken a turn for the surreal". here is a mail i wrote to a friend, lets call her N, recently. presented here is an excerpt.
"...my recent attitude towards girls. its almost bordering on the pathological N. these days i just dont find myself being attracted to a girl. i mean on an emotional/intellectual level. and no i am not turning gay either. bordering on a misogynist is more like it. i hate women their scheming conniving ways. their fake attitude of being a girl. they are so immersed in being a girl that they forget all about being a person. they lie, they bitch, they flounce, they pout, they flutter, act mysterious, and generally act all icky and foolishly self-assured (of nothing). do they really think that men will bow down to their every whim and fancy and treat them like a china doll? are all women like that? i know very few who arent. ps: this aint an anti-feminist or pro-male propoganda. just seeking a peaceful and simple co-existence.
i dont know where its stemming from, or why it exists. i have started consolidating my circle of friends to just a few people now. i call it my "Periodical Pruning of Tangential Associates" program. but i guess deep down i think its a disturbing trend. i am not usually a person consumed with such pathological hate for anyone. let alone an entire group of people. i'd been thinking about it, so i thought i'd mention it.
... a side point; its something i've noticed recently. ever see a poor man wrestling with inner demons? i havent. too many external ones to get a chance to reflect upon the self. which gives rise to some interesting questions. does a poor man, in his act (or non-act) of not reflecting upon the self, lose the inner demons? if so, is every poor man inherently a good person? if not, whither demons? where is their manifestation? dont tell me about the crime statistics which shows that poor people form a major chunk of criminals. two things to that: organized crime originates amongst the rich ones. it takes birth there and germinates with the lower echelons of society. and petty crime amongst the poor is just a reaction, a natural one, of an underpriviliged spark of life in an inherently disinterested and uncaring world. what we are talking about is... such things as... are we alone in this world? what is my purpose? who am i? am i a bad person? what constitutes a bad/good person? and other such philosophical/psychological goobledegook, the answers to which, constitutes and consumes our inner selves.
my point is a very simple one to this long argument. do we really need to think about all this to be able to lead a better life? or to be better people? do we really need the answers? or more importantly, do we really need the questions? i think these questions, philosophies, et al are products of an idle mind on a boring sunday afternoon. the prerogative of the rich in contemporary times. inventions perhaps? maybe i am being too simplistic in my point of view. but believe me, that surely is deliberate. a simple, uncluttered, complexity free, existence for a change. i want to get out of the vicious loop of analyzing the how's, why's, where's, et al. of everything around me in life. at least for a while. a break. i just want to feel and to react. i want to engage (not indulge) my senses in feeling the world around me and to react to it as naturally as possible.
i must say your writings have made me solidify my thoughts. whatever i have written is what came to me naturally, on reading it. i apologize if it sounds preachy. i dont know what my intention was when i began writing this mail. i just think we need to pay more attention to the life that is happening around us, rather than the perception of it thats living inside us..."
hmm... thats all for now.
"...my recent attitude towards girls. its almost bordering on the pathological N. these days i just dont find myself being attracted to a girl. i mean on an emotional/intellectual level. and no i am not turning gay either. bordering on a misogynist is more like it. i hate women their scheming conniving ways. their fake attitude of being a girl. they are so immersed in being a girl that they forget all about being a person. they lie, they bitch, they flounce, they pout, they flutter, act mysterious, and generally act all icky and foolishly self-assured (of nothing). do they really think that men will bow down to their every whim and fancy and treat them like a china doll? are all women like that? i know very few who arent. ps: this aint an anti-feminist or pro-male propoganda. just seeking a peaceful and simple co-existence.
i dont know where its stemming from, or why it exists. i have started consolidating my circle of friends to just a few people now. i call it my "Periodical Pruning of Tangential Associates" program. but i guess deep down i think its a disturbing trend. i am not usually a person consumed with such pathological hate for anyone. let alone an entire group of people. i'd been thinking about it, so i thought i'd mention it.
... a side point; its something i've noticed recently. ever see a poor man wrestling with inner demons? i havent. too many external ones to get a chance to reflect upon the self. which gives rise to some interesting questions. does a poor man, in his act (or non-act) of not reflecting upon the self, lose the inner demons? if so, is every poor man inherently a good person? if not, whither demons? where is their manifestation? dont tell me about the crime statistics which shows that poor people form a major chunk of criminals. two things to that: organized crime originates amongst the rich ones. it takes birth there and germinates with the lower echelons of society. and petty crime amongst the poor is just a reaction, a natural one, of an underpriviliged spark of life in an inherently disinterested and uncaring world. what we are talking about is... such things as... are we alone in this world? what is my purpose? who am i? am i a bad person? what constitutes a bad/good person? and other such philosophical/psychological goobledegook, the answers to which, constitutes and consumes our inner selves.
my point is a very simple one to this long argument. do we really need to think about all this to be able to lead a better life? or to be better people? do we really need the answers? or more importantly, do we really need the questions? i think these questions, philosophies, et al are products of an idle mind on a boring sunday afternoon. the prerogative of the rich in contemporary times. inventions perhaps? maybe i am being too simplistic in my point of view. but believe me, that surely is deliberate. a simple, uncluttered, complexity free, existence for a change. i want to get out of the vicious loop of analyzing the how's, why's, where's, et al. of everything around me in life. at least for a while. a break. i just want to feel and to react. i want to engage (not indulge) my senses in feeling the world around me and to react to it as naturally as possible.
i must say your writings have made me solidify my thoughts. whatever i have written is what came to me naturally, on reading it. i apologize if it sounds preachy. i dont know what my intention was when i began writing this mail. i just think we need to pay more attention to the life that is happening around us, rather than the perception of it thats living inside us..."
hmm... thats all for now.
Thursday, October 27, 2005
TV(iew) Archive
Google has just put up a copy of the "Archive of American Television"'s collection of videotaped interviews with TV legends. It's a first person view of the history, creative and business aspects of TV programming in the US.
Go forth and couch-potatofy!
Here is the Google Video link
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Symbiopsychotaxiplasm
From Fight Club:
Tyler Durden: "Man, I see in fight club the strongest and smartest men who've ever lived. I see all this potential, and I see squandering. God damn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables; slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need. We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war... our Great Depression is our lives. We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won't. And we're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off."
Tyler Durden: "Man, I see in fight club the strongest and smartest men who've ever lived. I see all this potential, and I see squandering. God damn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables; slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need. We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war... our Great Depression is our lives. We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won't. And we're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off."
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Monday, October 17, 2005
interregnum
2 months to the date. this is the time that has elapsed since i wrote last over here. quite a few people have actually given up on the blog. including me. never really wrote for anybody, except myself; i guess i didnt have anything to say to me. this came up in a recent discussion with a friend of mine. she insisted on writing blog entries that would generate popular interest in them. she tried to convince me too, but i guess ghosts of legs dont understand with words.
so much has happened since my last post. moved out of college. landed a job. changed 4 residences within a spate of 3 weeks. got mugged somewhere in between that. got a new laptop. a new cellphone. tried ecstacy. got 3 'excellent' ratings for my work during periodical reviews. clocked in 60 hours per week consecutively for 2 weeks. came dangerously close to being labelled a workaholic. went back to being a bum. saw 16 movies. got 2 haircuts. 5 nail clipping events. and so on and so forth...
i dont particularly feel like recounting any of the above. i dont know how i went from '--verbose' to '--quiet'. but this is how i feel for now. i think its a transitionary phase. triggered off by a change in lifestyle, time available for personal indulgence, noticeable changes in the attitude of dear friends, resurfacing of long buried feelings, a very tough decision that i had to take regarding it, the aftermath, et al.
i am quite enjoying my work over here. i havent yet joined the bandwagon of Cubicle Cribbers. i like what i do and i dont have any psychobabble qualms about it.
i recommend the following movies: saher, maatrabhoomi, maine gandhi ko nahin maara and pyaar mein twist. each one has its own merits. worth a watch.
thats it. who says i am long winded.
so much has happened since my last post. moved out of college. landed a job. changed 4 residences within a spate of 3 weeks. got mugged somewhere in between that. got a new laptop. a new cellphone. tried ecstacy. got 3 'excellent' ratings for my work during periodical reviews. clocked in 60 hours per week consecutively for 2 weeks. came dangerously close to being labelled a workaholic. went back to being a bum. saw 16 movies. got 2 haircuts. 5 nail clipping events. and so on and so forth...
i dont particularly feel like recounting any of the above. i dont know how i went from '--verbose' to '--quiet'. but this is how i feel for now. i think its a transitionary phase. triggered off by a change in lifestyle, time available for personal indulgence, noticeable changes in the attitude of dear friends, resurfacing of long buried feelings, a very tough decision that i had to take regarding it, the aftermath, et al.
i am quite enjoying my work over here. i havent yet joined the bandwagon of Cubicle Cribbers. i like what i do and i dont have any psychobabble qualms about it.
i recommend the following movies: saher, maatrabhoomi, maine gandhi ko nahin maara and pyaar mein twist. each one has its own merits. worth a watch.
thats it. who says i am long winded.
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
Weirder and Weirder
Q: Why is the world turning weirder and weirder, by the day?
A: It's because we understand lesser and lesser of it, day by day.
A: It's because we understand lesser and lesser of it, day by day.
Friday, June 03, 2005
a quiet night in the rain
sometimes a man will hesitate to do things that well from deep within his heart. a denial of the physical translations of a basically emotional (an abstract mechanism) nature perhaps. i must admit that i have been guilty of this delinquency. many a days i've lain safe in my cocoon wanting to go outside in the rains. tonight, perhaps, i've redeemed at least that part of my personality. i must say, the feeling was as undescribable as ever; not to forget, incredible. i do not know, or perhaps do not understand, the process by which the inner emotional being wins out over the outer shell of rationale. i am just glad it did.
i walked out of my door alone at 3:15 am and just stood there in the rain, watching the drops slowly pitter patter down. i was quite amazed at myself for this act of juvenility. and i was amazed at this amazement. i could certainly have done this any other day or night i chose to. but why didnt i choose before? by before i refer to the time since i came to the US. a jolt of lightning followed by thunder woke me up from my reverie. i looked up into the sky. it was indescribably beautiful; in all senses of the word. the dull black-grey skin of the sky was revealing its marrow of white light; racing across the sky in wildy chaotic patterns. i even welcomed the bland afterimage it left on my retina as i closed my eyes to savor the moment. my heart leapt at the crackling sound of thunder, as it rolled from ear to ear. it wasnt just a reflex from the sudden loud noise that impinged on my senses; i was actually happy to hear it. i have often been, at different times, been compartmentalised into the category of romantics. i believe that this was different. it felt incredibly like being one with myself. i have been, ever since i can remember, fascinated by the tumultous aspects of nature. it just feels like home.
i started walking slowly, hands in pocket and head bent low. i dont think i consciously knew of where i was headed. in a few moments i found myself at the poolside. i looked up at the lamps hung around the pool, and small iridescent circles formed on my lenses. the riot of colors that exploded a few centimeters from my eyes was breathtaking. i let my eyes rove wildly across the lens, trying to capture all the water droplets on the lens. the sloshing sound of the soft plip plop of water droplets on the pool surface distracted me from this exercise. the normally even surface was broken into a million different ripples, each colliding with each other mid-wave which set off their own tremors. all this while i was totally unaware of the thorough drenching that i was receiving. i didnt, couldnt, feel wet. i shuffled my feet a little and they slowly slid into a small puddle of water. i let the water slip into the small space between the sole of my feet and the slippers. every part of my mind and body was going through a million different, mutually exclusive and unique, sensations. the soft trickle of water down my back was completely different from the the same thing happening on my arms. its amazing the way we are composed of an infinitesimal number of particles, each affording a completely different set of sensory experiences, and yet being whole and able to assimilate it into one.
i stayed outside for almost an hour, and didnt come in until i was thoroughly drenched. of course that doesnt really matter, for what really is more beautiful? the larva inside its cocoon, or the butterfly it is destined to become? there are some that might ask, what really is true beauty. ladies and gentlemen, it is, i believe, nothing but a moment of truth. it is that moment of truth that the larva strives to achieve in metamorphosing into a butterfly. and what was my moment of truth as i stood outside in the rain?
i "think" i know now.
i walked out of my door alone at 3:15 am and just stood there in the rain, watching the drops slowly pitter patter down. i was quite amazed at myself for this act of juvenility. and i was amazed at this amazement. i could certainly have done this any other day or night i chose to. but why didnt i choose before? by before i refer to the time since i came to the US. a jolt of lightning followed by thunder woke me up from my reverie. i looked up into the sky. it was indescribably beautiful; in all senses of the word. the dull black-grey skin of the sky was revealing its marrow of white light; racing across the sky in wildy chaotic patterns. i even welcomed the bland afterimage it left on my retina as i closed my eyes to savor the moment. my heart leapt at the crackling sound of thunder, as it rolled from ear to ear. it wasnt just a reflex from the sudden loud noise that impinged on my senses; i was actually happy to hear it. i have often been, at different times, been compartmentalised into the category of romantics. i believe that this was different. it felt incredibly like being one with myself. i have been, ever since i can remember, fascinated by the tumultous aspects of nature. it just feels like home.
i started walking slowly, hands in pocket and head bent low. i dont think i consciously knew of where i was headed. in a few moments i found myself at the poolside. i looked up at the lamps hung around the pool, and small iridescent circles formed on my lenses. the riot of colors that exploded a few centimeters from my eyes was breathtaking. i let my eyes rove wildly across the lens, trying to capture all the water droplets on the lens. the sloshing sound of the soft plip plop of water droplets on the pool surface distracted me from this exercise. the normally even surface was broken into a million different ripples, each colliding with each other mid-wave which set off their own tremors. all this while i was totally unaware of the thorough drenching that i was receiving. i didnt, couldnt, feel wet. i shuffled my feet a little and they slowly slid into a small puddle of water. i let the water slip into the small space between the sole of my feet and the slippers. every part of my mind and body was going through a million different, mutually exclusive and unique, sensations. the soft trickle of water down my back was completely different from the the same thing happening on my arms. its amazing the way we are composed of an infinitesimal number of particles, each affording a completely different set of sensory experiences, and yet being whole and able to assimilate it into one.
i stayed outside for almost an hour, and didnt come in until i was thoroughly drenched. of course that doesnt really matter, for what really is more beautiful? the larva inside its cocoon, or the butterfly it is destined to become? there are some that might ask, what really is true beauty. ladies and gentlemen, it is, i believe, nothing but a moment of truth. it is that moment of truth that the larva strives to achieve in metamorphosing into a butterfly. and what was my moment of truth as i stood outside in the rain?
i "think" i know now.
Saturday, May 07, 2005
back from the dead
a foul fever runneth its course through my coarse veins. the arteries werent left unvictimised either. i have been down with high fever for almost a week now. the change in weather (went up and down faster than anyone could say "anil ambani's fortunes"), misplaced fortitude, along with a motely mix of various factors, contributed towards my generally low state of physical well being. after a week in solitary confinement on my bed i finally managed to muster up enough strength to crawl all the way to the computer. in the meanwhile i also happened to partake in the luxury of stealing a peek in the mirror. for the curious at heart, i look like a train wreck that was done in by a plane crash near a sea coast. i have bags under my eyes that look larger than shopping bags at macy's. the really sad part about falling sick away from home is that you have to take care of yourself. no mom's fussing over you with home made chicken soup recipes, no overdoing the caring part, no home cooked food; yeah i missed it all.
i guess thats all i have to say for now.
i guess thats all i have to say for now.
Thursday, April 07, 2005
Monday, April 04, 2005
a song, in vain
i just had this poem/song rotting in my records for sometime now. the records being a bunch of lightly held sticky notes from 3 years ago. its still scrawled out in my unholy squiggly. somehow it has lost all its meaning for me. i dont know what i was trying to say, or what i felt at that time. maybe thats why i am putting it here on my blog. i present it to you verbatim.
i see the light at the end of the tunnel,
they say its a train come to deliver me,
i think its a dark angel come to get me.
dont trip me dear; i wanna see it come head on.
i stand there as i fly,
trying to catch my dreams,
as they all float by,
the darkness begins to grind me.
oh! its a boy with a light in his hands,
i see the innocence has all drained through his pants,
"wont you come and play by the swing?,
sit with me and wash away those sins".
as i consider, the boy disappears,
the train rolls on, without me anywhere.
oh! dont mock me, i'm just weird,
trying to find love in novels front and rear,
the pages just slip by,
stop laughing! wont you try and make me disappear.
i dont understand this mystery,
could i change myself from what i made myself be,
maybe somewhere there is retribution,
maybe somewhere there is redemption,
"hey lil boy hold my hands, i feel like sin".
wash away those memories,
wash away those tears,
look at me,
i am dying right here...
i see the light at the end of the tunnel,
they say its a train come to deliver me,
i think its a dark angel come to get me.
dont trip me dear; i wanna see it come head on.
i stand there as i fly,
trying to catch my dreams,
as they all float by,
the darkness begins to grind me.
oh! its a boy with a light in his hands,
i see the innocence has all drained through his pants,
"wont you come and play by the swing?,
sit with me and wash away those sins".
as i consider, the boy disappears,
the train rolls on, without me anywhere.
oh! dont mock me, i'm just weird,
trying to find love in novels front and rear,
the pages just slip by,
stop laughing! wont you try and make me disappear.
i dont understand this mystery,
could i change myself from what i made myself be,
maybe somewhere there is retribution,
maybe somewhere there is redemption,
"hey lil boy hold my hands, i feel like sin".
wash away those memories,
wash away those tears,
look at me,
i am dying right here...
Monday, March 28, 2005
on "...the way a bunch of people behave when faced with unforseen circumstances"
true to my word here is the quote i mentioned about in my last post. Ralph Waldo Emerson has a quote that has been used by Isaac Asimov to great beauty and perfection in his short story which goes by the name "Nightfall".
"If the stars should appear one night in a thousand
years, how would men believe and adore, and
preserve for many generations the remembrance
of the city of God..."
for people interested in following it up please go read up the story. i assure you it wont leave you feeling disappointed. a short excerpt from http://www.kirjasto.sci.fi/asimov.htm
"Asimov's breakthrough work, 'Nightfall' (1941), is acclaimed to be the best science fiction story ever written - an overstatement of course. The poetic story depicts a world which has six suns, at least one of which is always shining. The world have experienced a universal eclipse every two millennia, and lost its social organization as a result. When the darkness falls the reason for this cyclical development is revealed: suddenly the thousands of stars are visible."
cheers!
"If the stars should appear one night in a thousand
years, how would men believe and adore, and
preserve for many generations the remembrance
of the city of God..."
for people interested in following it up please go read up the story. i assure you it wont leave you feeling disappointed. a short excerpt from http://www.kirjasto.sci.fi/asimov.htm
"Asimov's breakthrough work, 'Nightfall' (1941), is acclaimed to be the best science fiction story ever written - an overstatement of course. The poetic story depicts a world which has six suns, at least one of which is always shining. The world have experienced a universal eclipse every two millennia, and lost its social organization as a result. When the darkness falls the reason for this cyclical development is revealed: suddenly the thousands of stars are visible."
cheers!
things that go bump in the night
there is a queer strain about darkness. it just doesnt fit well into man's intellect. thats why we sleep at night, light up our houses and lives, even celebrate festivals for it. and of course we have endless scary tales of things that go bump in the night. no grand-parents are complete without them; and i dont think there are any childhood experiences without at least one story that runs too deep for comfort. so it has to be a given that most of man's worst experiences are meted out to him in the night/dark. or maybe its the other way round. we just think that what happens to us in the dark is worse than what could happen in broad daylight. but that is being deliberately obtuse. and as usual i am digressing from what i intend to say. *aside: i think the most interesting conversations happen when you digress from the topic*
what i do have to relate is relatively mundane. nothing as deeply involving as a philosophical discussion on darkness and its psychological impact on us. just a series of events that led us to lock ourselves at our apartments, and an above average daily dose of adrenaline. here is how it all transpired.
a jolly bunch of 6 decided to go see a movie today. heard "the hitch" was a "good lighthearted one". of course, as is unkown to most people, thats just trick phraseology for a complete chick flick, right down to the mushy bollywood-ishtyle dialogues. so we all climbed aboard the van ready to be entertained. its the kind of car that can just soak up people and not show a bulge. parents use it over here to drive their kids and their assorted friends to soccer matches. the reason for the oft heard phrase "soccer mom" on popular sitcoms. we just fondly call it "Mom's Car", complete with the capital M and C. this particular Mom being a friend whose uncle gifted the damn car to him. but its the only mass rapid transist system available on call.
but where was i? yeah, 6 jolly souls in Mom's Car heading out for the 9:25 pm show. nothing out of the ordinary in that, except for yours truly. we reach the theater with minimal unpleasantness, apart from friendly leg-pulling, and some serious skull bashing. the 2 hours of the movie go quietly, interspersed with small chuckles and uproarious laughter from one end of the crowd. that was Mom. the movie ends and we all file out, going rabid with comments about how good/bad the movie was. a cell phone rings. *cheesy cell phone tune playing* Mom steps out to take the call. we can hear only snatches of conversations. everyone pricks up at "did you call 911?" for the uninitiated this is not one of those 1-900 numbers. everyone perks up because this usually means there is going to be something worth gossiping over for days. (yeah we men gossip too!)
Mom enters looking anxious. turns out Mom's flatmate was shot at by an african-american (nigger) in an apartment complex. blank stares on all the faces. the thing is we live in the same apartment complex, or just next to it. its interesting the way a bunch of people behave when faced with unforseen circumstances. a quote on that later. a plethora of opinions, suggestions, counter-suggestions, questioning, cross-questioning, ideas, idioms, similes, analogies, previous incidents, fear, palpitation, and prayers to god later, we headed back towards home. the above was of course followed by a frenzy of cell phone activity. burning the air-waves away were messages to near and dear ones (read: girls and flatmates. the two are mutually exclusive by the way. through no fault of ours i can assure you. its just in the nature of things) interspersed between all of this were reassuring words from Mom. "Mom will get you home. dont worry". it did help to break the tensed bunch. "stay home, lock the doors and peep through the hole" was the message of choice. short, sweet and simple. all enquires were answered by "desi shot at, twice". i guess that was enough. last i heard, some desi dudes sitting in a bar next to the crime scene fled home without tipping the waitress they had been hitting on for the past 1 hour. so i guess it worked.
we lost our way en route. took a wrong turn and ended up at the interstate highway close to the liquor stores. if ever life had an inappropriate sense of humor it was then. took a U-turn and glided home to safety. three cheers for Mom! endless discussions followed; the rumor mills were churning away at an all time high. nothing had created such a flurry amongst the desi's. not even when one of the surds cut his long locks, went to dallas, and married a mexican chat friend who is 45 years old and a mother of 2. (read: instant green card) but whats important is that we got to hear the event history as it actually transpired, straight from the horses mouth. oh yeah he lived to tell the tale.
this dude was walking from his home to another friends place to catch the live telecast of the last day of play (India Vs Pakistan). (whoever said cricket couldnt be dangerous). he saw some commotion and lots of flashing lights some distance away. what could be more attractive than flashing lights in the dead of the night? refer to my opening paragraph. he was instantly attracted to the scene just as multitudes of indians are attracted to (free) public displays of any kind. its instantaneous and reflexive. some african-americans (niggers) looted a 7-11 store and were fleeing from the scene. these guys had a green(?) saturn which was observed by our desi dude. those guys must have thought that an unnecessary witness needed to be eliminated and swerved around to bang him down. carmageddon! shot at him twice but, bless his soul, he ducked and dodged the bullets.
so he is now safe and sound and asleep (hopefully). we advised him to have a couple of shots of vodka to help calm his nerves down. having our offer turned down, we promptly took it upon ourselves to do the needful. smirnoff zindabad! vodka amar rahe! Mom got a little too happy and we decided it was better he bunked with us for tonight.
so thats my neat little story. packaged in pink polka-dotted paper, with a tiny blue ribbon on top.
ps: the above is a highly fictionalised account of the events that transpired between 9:25 pm CT (27th February) and 2:30 am CT (28th February) in lubbock, texas. please take them with an extra large pinch of salt. the author makes no claim to sobriety or truth. the author further thinks these are for the weak of mind.
what i do have to relate is relatively mundane. nothing as deeply involving as a philosophical discussion on darkness and its psychological impact on us. just a series of events that led us to lock ourselves at our apartments, and an above average daily dose of adrenaline. here is how it all transpired.
a jolly bunch of 6 decided to go see a movie today. heard "the hitch" was a "good lighthearted one". of course, as is unkown to most people, thats just trick phraseology for a complete chick flick, right down to the mushy bollywood-ishtyle dialogues. so we all climbed aboard the van ready to be entertained. its the kind of car that can just soak up people and not show a bulge. parents use it over here to drive their kids and their assorted friends to soccer matches. the reason for the oft heard phrase "soccer mom" on popular sitcoms. we just fondly call it "Mom's Car", complete with the capital M and C. this particular Mom being a friend whose uncle gifted the damn car to him. but its the only mass rapid transist system available on call.
but where was i? yeah, 6 jolly souls in Mom's Car heading out for the 9:25 pm show. nothing out of the ordinary in that, except for yours truly. we reach the theater with minimal unpleasantness, apart from friendly leg-pulling, and some serious skull bashing. the 2 hours of the movie go quietly, interspersed with small chuckles and uproarious laughter from one end of the crowd. that was Mom. the movie ends and we all file out, going rabid with comments about how good/bad the movie was. a cell phone rings. *cheesy cell phone tune playing* Mom steps out to take the call. we can hear only snatches of conversations. everyone pricks up at "did you call 911?" for the uninitiated this is not one of those 1-900 numbers. everyone perks up because this usually means there is going to be something worth gossiping over for days. (yeah we men gossip too!)
Mom enters looking anxious. turns out Mom's flatmate was shot at by an african-american (nigger) in an apartment complex. blank stares on all the faces. the thing is we live in the same apartment complex, or just next to it. its interesting the way a bunch of people behave when faced with unforseen circumstances. a quote on that later. a plethora of opinions, suggestions, counter-suggestions, questioning, cross-questioning, ideas, idioms, similes, analogies, previous incidents, fear, palpitation, and prayers to god later, we headed back towards home. the above was of course followed by a frenzy of cell phone activity. burning the air-waves away were messages to near and dear ones (read: girls and flatmates. the two are mutually exclusive by the way. through no fault of ours i can assure you. its just in the nature of things) interspersed between all of this were reassuring words from Mom. "Mom will get you home. dont worry". it did help to break the tensed bunch. "stay home, lock the doors and peep through the hole" was the message of choice. short, sweet and simple. all enquires were answered by "desi shot at, twice". i guess that was enough. last i heard, some desi dudes sitting in a bar next to the crime scene fled home without tipping the waitress they had been hitting on for the past 1 hour. so i guess it worked.
we lost our way en route. took a wrong turn and ended up at the interstate highway close to the liquor stores. if ever life had an inappropriate sense of humor it was then. took a U-turn and glided home to safety. three cheers for Mom! endless discussions followed; the rumor mills were churning away at an all time high. nothing had created such a flurry amongst the desi's. not even when one of the surds cut his long locks, went to dallas, and married a mexican chat friend who is 45 years old and a mother of 2. (read: instant green card) but whats important is that we got to hear the event history as it actually transpired, straight from the horses mouth. oh yeah he lived to tell the tale.
this dude was walking from his home to another friends place to catch the live telecast of the last day of play (India Vs Pakistan). (whoever said cricket couldnt be dangerous). he saw some commotion and lots of flashing lights some distance away. what could be more attractive than flashing lights in the dead of the night? refer to my opening paragraph. he was instantly attracted to the scene just as multitudes of indians are attracted to (free) public displays of any kind. its instantaneous and reflexive. some african-americans (niggers) looted a 7-11 store and were fleeing from the scene. these guys had a green(?) saturn which was observed by our desi dude. those guys must have thought that an unnecessary witness needed to be eliminated and swerved around to bang him down. carmageddon! shot at him twice but, bless his soul, he ducked and dodged the bullets.
so he is now safe and sound and asleep (hopefully). we advised him to have a couple of shots of vodka to help calm his nerves down. having our offer turned down, we promptly took it upon ourselves to do the needful. smirnoff zindabad! vodka amar rahe! Mom got a little too happy and we decided it was better he bunked with us for tonight.
so thats my neat little story. packaged in pink polka-dotted paper, with a tiny blue ribbon on top.
ps: the above is a highly fictionalised account of the events that transpired between 9:25 pm CT (27th February) and 2:30 am CT (28th February) in lubbock, texas. please take them with an extra large pinch of salt. the author makes no claim to sobriety or truth. the author further thinks these are for the weak of mind.
Monday, March 21, 2005
kilter
i have been pushed. don't think i would have been able to post otherwise. even now i don't have anything to write about. but i guess i can take other bloggers' examples and write about not having anything to write about. i must say i haven't tried my hand at something like this before.
right then! i thought about that for 15 minutes. i think i am ready to write a few more lines. one step at a time. i was wondering where the inspiration had withered off to. the Point of Desperation seems to be infinitely far off in the distance. my top seems to be the fag end of an equation which is finitely bounded. where have all the piquant events disappeared off to? where have the thoughts jilted off to? why has the will wilted? why have the well travelled paths along neurons become limpid? the statements above look like they were ripped off from a GRE wordbook. just an observation.
maybe its time to traverse new pathways. even as i write i am dissatisfied with whatever i have penned down in this post. just doesn't feel right. my thinking seems to have gone off kilter these days. staring at the screen for long periods of time, trying to find meaning and recognisable shapes in half eaten food, thinking about words and their implications, wondering about people and their motivations for excessive amounts of time, listening to one song over and over for 3 days (bandeh by indian ocean for black friday), and other such meaningless activities. couple this with a high irritability quotient and childish sensitivity to what people say (or don't), and i think i might just have stumbled onto PMS in men.
the last 3 weeks have been spent in quite a bit of socialising. weekend parties, get togethers, pot luck dinners, team sports, et al. i think all of that just got to me. its almost as if i am in a state of colloidal suspension between wanting more, and disgust at the prospect.
i am sure its just a temporary phenomenon and i will be back to writing long monologues on inane matters soon. but since i am not given to thinking much on what the future might hold, i shall sulk in the present.
6 hours later: i just hit upon a very valid question. why is an admission of weakness heard as a plea for help by other people? it is something that hovers at the border of my thoughts now and then. and especially with the female species. open question to all.
i think i should put an end to this meandering post now. pox on those subversive souls who made me write.
right then! i thought about that for 15 minutes. i think i am ready to write a few more lines. one step at a time. i was wondering where the inspiration had withered off to. the Point of Desperation seems to be infinitely far off in the distance. my top seems to be the fag end of an equation which is finitely bounded. where have all the piquant events disappeared off to? where have the thoughts jilted off to? why has the will wilted? why have the well travelled paths along neurons become limpid? the statements above look like they were ripped off from a GRE wordbook. just an observation.
maybe its time to traverse new pathways. even as i write i am dissatisfied with whatever i have penned down in this post. just doesn't feel right. my thinking seems to have gone off kilter these days. staring at the screen for long periods of time, trying to find meaning and recognisable shapes in half eaten food, thinking about words and their implications, wondering about people and their motivations for excessive amounts of time, listening to one song over and over for 3 days (bandeh by indian ocean for black friday), and other such meaningless activities. couple this with a high irritability quotient and childish sensitivity to what people say (or don't), and i think i might just have stumbled onto PMS in men.
the last 3 weeks have been spent in quite a bit of socialising. weekend parties, get togethers, pot luck dinners, team sports, et al. i think all of that just got to me. its almost as if i am in a state of colloidal suspension between wanting more, and disgust at the prospect.
i am sure its just a temporary phenomenon and i will be back to writing long monologues on inane matters soon. but since i am not given to thinking much on what the future might hold, i shall sulk in the present.
6 hours later: i just hit upon a very valid question. why is an admission of weakness heard as a plea for help by other people? it is something that hovers at the border of my thoughts now and then. and especially with the female species. open question to all.
i think i should put an end to this meandering post now. pox on those subversive souls who made me write.
Thursday, February 24, 2005
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
udhaar ki zindagi
i got a mouse on rent. the surprising thing is not that i got one, but that i could get one. it used to be land, house, money, and other assortments necessary to eking out an existence, that used to be available on rent. now its a mouse.
how the mighty have fallen. i think i was born at the right time to see the transition from one world to the other. the early years were spent with books, outdoor games, dunking in tubewells, bonding with family, hurling my sister around, and trying out rather impossible feats of mental ability; viz., going through school. in retrospect those were fun times. it was a simple life, with nothing more to contend with other than getting away with mischief, coming up with innovative ideas to make our parents life more miserable, teenage angst, et al. nothing that millions of other kids at that age dont go through.
and then tip toing its way out from research laboratories, the computer literally revolutionised the way we live and think. today i cant imagine a life without computers. i wouldnt go so far as to say that its an evil, or even a necessary one. but yet, it never ceases to amaze me how everything has changed. the world just flipped itself over with the flip of a switch. computer, and the associated industry, is the means of livelihood for a large chunk of the world population. there is no sphere of life left untouched by the jumble of wires, the dull grey of plastic casing and the blue glare of monitors. it has become all pervasive. reminds me of something that came up while discussing blogs with a friend. the issue at hand was blogrolling and i just could'nt help myself from thinking about our vocabulary and its usage. cliched as it may sound, i think (along with others) that blogs are going to be around for a long long time, and become a force to reckon with, in terms of communication idioms. in that respect, imagine some years into the future:
school bully to school wuss: i am going to steam roll you.
wuss to bully: oh yeah? i will blogroll you.
school bully: *shocked and suitably impressed*
but i dont want to get into the moral, social, economical or cultural issues associated with this movement. i just want you to take a step back and gape at this change. i dont think history can offer us a revolution larger in scale, speedier in taking effect, and bloodless in its entirety, than this. it is beyond admiration or loathing. reverence is a word which seems befitting.
but look where that mouse has dragged and dropped us. i dont think i have a philosophical point to make with this post. i guess i just miss that old simple way of life.
how the mighty have fallen. i think i was born at the right time to see the transition from one world to the other. the early years were spent with books, outdoor games, dunking in tubewells, bonding with family, hurling my sister around, and trying out rather impossible feats of mental ability; viz., going through school. in retrospect those were fun times. it was a simple life, with nothing more to contend with other than getting away with mischief, coming up with innovative ideas to make our parents life more miserable, teenage angst, et al. nothing that millions of other kids at that age dont go through.
and then tip toing its way out from research laboratories, the computer literally revolutionised the way we live and think. today i cant imagine a life without computers. i wouldnt go so far as to say that its an evil, or even a necessary one. but yet, it never ceases to amaze me how everything has changed. the world just flipped itself over with the flip of a switch. computer, and the associated industry, is the means of livelihood for a large chunk of the world population. there is no sphere of life left untouched by the jumble of wires, the dull grey of plastic casing and the blue glare of monitors. it has become all pervasive. reminds me of something that came up while discussing blogs with a friend. the issue at hand was blogrolling and i just could'nt help myself from thinking about our vocabulary and its usage. cliched as it may sound, i think (along with others) that blogs are going to be around for a long long time, and become a force to reckon with, in terms of communication idioms. in that respect, imagine some years into the future:
school bully to school wuss: i am going to steam roll you.
wuss to bully: oh yeah? i will blogroll you.
school bully: *shocked and suitably impressed*
but i dont want to get into the moral, social, economical or cultural issues associated with this movement. i just want you to take a step back and gape at this change. i dont think history can offer us a revolution larger in scale, speedier in taking effect, and bloodless in its entirety, than this. it is beyond admiration or loathing. reverence is a word which seems befitting.
but look where that mouse has dragged and dropped us. i dont think i have a philosophical point to make with this post. i guess i just miss that old simple way of life.
Thursday, February 17, 2005
ek choohe ki maut
yesterday it finally died. the life in it flickered and was snuffed out. unfeeling, unblinking and very dead. i peeped into its innards and it was still dead. i poked it, prodded it, and after much consternation i figured it really was very dead.
a few moments later i hit my fists hard on the desk as the enormity of the situation hit me. i exuded a loud "DAMN" to the puzzlement of my flatmates.
flatmate 1: "what happened?"
me: "the mouse died"
flatmates 1,2,3: *pale expressions on face* now what?
me: "we use the keyboard"
flatmates 1,2,3: *loud gasps*
yes people. my poor dear mouse has died and in the process has shoved me to the neo-paleo-lithic era of computing. after i had ugh-ed all my ughs and grunted all my grunts i was left with a very dead mouse and a keyboard staring me in the face. a lot went between those stares.
keyboard: "so, seems like you stuck with me"
me: "yeah seems so"
keyboard: "dont look so tough now do you"
me: "oh yeah? wait till i get my hands on you"
keyboard: "i dont think so"
me: "lets settle this right here"
keyboard: "sure. lets have a quiz"
me: "what kind of quiz?" *cautiously*
keyboard: "about keyboard shortcuts"
me: *sensing a false sense of bravado leading him on* "right! lets do it then"
keyboard: "what is the shortcut for... launching explorer?"
me: "errr..." *sob sob mouse*
keyboard: "what giving up already?"
me: "hey i got a question for you. how do you disconnect the keyboard and take it apart key by key?"
keyboard: *horrified look* "errr... master?"
me: "yeah boy. now you gettin the picture"
keyboard: "being a keyboard sucks!" *resigned to fate look*
but i digress. this is an eulogy for my dear departed mouse. the simple pure creature of convenience that rules our GUI-based existence. so much so that my dreams have windows of their own. each of them have little crosses in their upper left corners that you can click if its turning out to be a nightmare. the ubiquitous mouse has left me alone. in a world of mouse-have's, i have suddenly descended the social ladder to being a mouse-not. its the equivalent of being a leper in a world full of shiny happy people.
the smoothness of its milky surface; the only curves i will ever hold in my hands; it had balls; all the right buttons to push. it was a sad end to a great relationship. deeply philosophical, it taught me so much about life. but thats for another story.
here it rests, between the pages of my blogs.
My Mouse (2003-2005)
RIP
a few moments later i hit my fists hard on the desk as the enormity of the situation hit me. i exuded a loud "DAMN" to the puzzlement of my flatmates.
flatmate 1: "what happened?"
me: "the mouse died"
flatmates 1,2,3: *pale expressions on face* now what?
me: "we use the keyboard"
flatmates 1,2,3: *loud gasps*
yes people. my poor dear mouse has died and in the process has shoved me to the neo-paleo-lithic era of computing. after i had ugh-ed all my ughs and grunted all my grunts i was left with a very dead mouse and a keyboard staring me in the face. a lot went between those stares.
keyboard: "so, seems like you stuck with me"
me: "yeah seems so"
keyboard: "dont look so tough now do you"
me: "oh yeah? wait till i get my hands on you"
keyboard: "i dont think so"
me: "lets settle this right here"
keyboard: "sure. lets have a quiz"
me: "what kind of quiz?" *cautiously*
keyboard: "about keyboard shortcuts"
me: *sensing a false sense of bravado leading him on* "right! lets do it then"
keyboard: "what is the shortcut for... launching explorer?"
me: "errr..." *sob sob mouse*
keyboard: "what giving up already?"
me: "hey i got a question for you. how do you disconnect the keyboard and take it apart key by key?"
keyboard: *horrified look* "errr... master?"
me: "yeah boy. now you gettin the picture"
keyboard: "being a keyboard sucks!" *resigned to fate look*
but i digress. this is an eulogy for my dear departed mouse. the simple pure creature of convenience that rules our GUI-based existence. so much so that my dreams have windows of their own. each of them have little crosses in their upper left corners that you can click if its turning out to be a nightmare. the ubiquitous mouse has left me alone. in a world of mouse-have's, i have suddenly descended the social ladder to being a mouse-not. its the equivalent of being a leper in a world full of shiny happy people.
the smoothness of its milky surface; the only curves i will ever hold in my hands; it had balls; all the right buttons to push. it was a sad end to a great relationship. deeply philosophical, it taught me so much about life. but thats for another story.
here it rests, between the pages of my blogs.
My Mouse (2003-2005)
RIP
Friday, February 11, 2005
writers block
for weeks i have been struggling to write something meaningful. in part i have been hampered by my on-going internship. the work has been killing and yesterday was the first night in three that i slept peacefully. but personal battlefields aside, i have just felt drained (numerous water breaks notwithstanding).
the worst part has been holding onto a strain of thought that seemed interesting enough to explore. many a times i would be working on some problem in my code and suddenly a queer thread would intrude upon me and make its presence known. that is to say an atomic bomb would go off in my head. but unlike Hiroshima and Nagasaki, which struggle to this day with the aftermath, mine is short lived. so i have a lot of half finished drafts lying about on my blog, unpublished, lame, mutilated with hovering thoughts, blind with unsure feelings, and senseless with blinded perception.
i like to think that i write with passion, pushed by inspiration. the sad part is that it comes but rarely. not passion, but inspiration. trembling hands, quivering fingers, tensed tendons, brows furrowed in thought, are all laid to waste with just the catalyst missing. the one that brings it together and in the darkness binds them. (evidently i have Lord of the Rings on my brain again. am reading the Book of Lost Tales and History of Middle Earth these days). so what really is inspiration? dark and mysterious, it borders on the edge of consciousness. its amazing what a few rounds of the good ole janx spirit can do for bouts of brilliant insight into the most troubling questions of life. having partaken in the aforementioned activity quite recently, i now think i have a grasp over inspiration. do i hear gasps in the back there? calm down and take a sip of water.
inspiration (in my best oratorical style) is nothing but a desperation to write. the important thing is recognising that point of desperation. of course, now everything can be explained in the light of this new idea. some people are so desperate that they can write everyday. some people are hit by such large bouts of desperation that it leads to a verbal diarrhea in their writings. let us analyse this a little further. i am motivated to write because i treat writing very cathartically. its a way to get rid of jumbled feelings and tangled thoughts that would, left to their own device, start feeding on my focus. once these reach a critical mass, out pours my hearts content. let us call this the Point of Desperation. i am sure there are as many motivations behind the Point of Desperation as there are writers. now having established a concrete theory, lets move on.
since this blog is all about me and the self-aggrandization thereof, i will talk only about myself. i feel terrible frustation at the fact that i reach my Point of Desperation only once every few days, and in some extreme cases, a few weeks. i squirm under the bubbling froth of emotions inside until they all reach the Point of Desperation. whats worse is that i instinctively know that a given day is not the day for critical mass. that knowledge is a burden of great weight. i wish it not upon my bête noir.
this post is dedicated to all those who wait patiently for new posts to appear on my blog site. now you know you suffer not alone; i suffer with you.
the worst part has been holding onto a strain of thought that seemed interesting enough to explore. many a times i would be working on some problem in my code and suddenly a queer thread would intrude upon me and make its presence known. that is to say an atomic bomb would go off in my head. but unlike Hiroshima and Nagasaki, which struggle to this day with the aftermath, mine is short lived. so i have a lot of half finished drafts lying about on my blog, unpublished, lame, mutilated with hovering thoughts, blind with unsure feelings, and senseless with blinded perception.
i like to think that i write with passion, pushed by inspiration. the sad part is that it comes but rarely. not passion, but inspiration. trembling hands, quivering fingers, tensed tendons, brows furrowed in thought, are all laid to waste with just the catalyst missing. the one that brings it together and in the darkness binds them. (evidently i have Lord of the Rings on my brain again. am reading the Book of Lost Tales and History of Middle Earth these days). so what really is inspiration? dark and mysterious, it borders on the edge of consciousness. its amazing what a few rounds of the good ole janx spirit can do for bouts of brilliant insight into the most troubling questions of life. having partaken in the aforementioned activity quite recently, i now think i have a grasp over inspiration. do i hear gasps in the back there? calm down and take a sip of water.
inspiration (in my best oratorical style) is nothing but a desperation to write. the important thing is recognising that point of desperation. of course, now everything can be explained in the light of this new idea. some people are so desperate that they can write everyday. some people are hit by such large bouts of desperation that it leads to a verbal diarrhea in their writings. let us analyse this a little further. i am motivated to write because i treat writing very cathartically. its a way to get rid of jumbled feelings and tangled thoughts that would, left to their own device, start feeding on my focus. once these reach a critical mass, out pours my hearts content. let us call this the Point of Desperation. i am sure there are as many motivations behind the Point of Desperation as there are writers. now having established a concrete theory, lets move on.
since this blog is all about me and the self-aggrandization thereof, i will talk only about myself. i feel terrible frustation at the fact that i reach my Point of Desperation only once every few days, and in some extreme cases, a few weeks. i squirm under the bubbling froth of emotions inside until they all reach the Point of Desperation. whats worse is that i instinctively know that a given day is not the day for critical mass. that knowledge is a burden of great weight. i wish it not upon my bête noir.
this post is dedicated to all those who wait patiently for new posts to appear on my blog site. now you know you suffer not alone; i suffer with you.
Saturday, January 22, 2005
just another day
the most difficult part in writing a blog is trying to remember the day's events. i dont mean to say in minute detail. the poignant moments, the nice thoughts, the birlliant ideas, etc., are crowded out by the present. the currents of thought and time are ethereal. and that is after making an effort.
all i can remember from today is a girl sitting on the opposite bench from me in the bus. she was smiling to herself. and i remember wondering what she was smiling about. the other thing i remember is seeing a bare bones tree right in front of a lush one, and wondering how quaint life can be. of course i remember the tardy interview for a GA post on campus. didn't go very well and needless to say i didn't get the job. i remember rushing around madly trying to find a few quarters to take a printout of my resume in the library, and my subsequent frustation at not finding any. i remember standing at the bus stop pacing impatiently for the bus. i remember feeling very lonely at the time. i remember eating lunch while watching a movie. i remember feeling sad even though it is a weekend. i remember sitting in front of the computer staring idly at the screen for quite some time.
but for the life of me i cant seem to remember my feelings at these points in time. not as lucidly as i did when i felt these moments. the mirth of the trees, the mysterious wondering about the girl's smile, the hunger, the sadness, the impatience; i do remember all that. but nothing besides a memory. are we, or rather i, given to emote in the present only? what is it that takes away the capability to empathise with our memories?
this leads to something much more significant. am i given to be a singularity of the present, and not a sum total of my past?
i dont see any answers for now. maybe these are questions better left for another day.
all i can remember from today is a girl sitting on the opposite bench from me in the bus. she was smiling to herself. and i remember wondering what she was smiling about. the other thing i remember is seeing a bare bones tree right in front of a lush one, and wondering how quaint life can be. of course i remember the tardy interview for a GA post on campus. didn't go very well and needless to say i didn't get the job. i remember rushing around madly trying to find a few quarters to take a printout of my resume in the library, and my subsequent frustation at not finding any. i remember standing at the bus stop pacing impatiently for the bus. i remember feeling very lonely at the time. i remember eating lunch while watching a movie. i remember feeling sad even though it is a weekend. i remember sitting in front of the computer staring idly at the screen for quite some time.
but for the life of me i cant seem to remember my feelings at these points in time. not as lucidly as i did when i felt these moments. the mirth of the trees, the mysterious wondering about the girl's smile, the hunger, the sadness, the impatience; i do remember all that. but nothing besides a memory. are we, or rather i, given to emote in the present only? what is it that takes away the capability to empathise with our memories?
this leads to something much more significant. am i given to be a singularity of the present, and not a sum total of my past?
i dont see any answers for now. maybe these are questions better left for another day.
Friday, January 21, 2005
but what?
sitting here in my room on an idle thursday evening i just realised that all my posts, all my thoughts, must certainly mean something. but what? there must be something beyong existentialism. but what? i have a recurrent dream in which an endless stream of blocks that take the shape of "b u t w h a t ?" run past me. they have legs and eyes too. they stare at me as if from an infinite coldness. and no matter how fast i run, i can never catch up with them. its worse than counting sheep believe me. ok i hear my friend shouting from the other room, "so what?"
i think i'll follow that up with a cold bath.
i think i'll follow that up with a cold bath.
Thursday, January 20, 2005
Word-O-Matic
life just has a way of putting words in their right places. things just fit... words just click. i dont think people use words; words use them. we dont choose to use the words. words choose to fit the situations and thoughts of people. wrapping themselves around our tongue ever so seductively, enticing the sounds of disaster from our mouths. the words of men are the vain arrows of cupid alike... not knowing who they hit and how their life changes in the aftermath.
unrealized unuttered thoughts rush through our minds. thoughts, ideas and judgements shaping themselves around the people who live inside. daily apocalypses running in our heads. we have all been judged and condemned. and thus the chosen have spoken.
unrealized unuttered thoughts rush through our minds. thoughts, ideas and judgements shaping themselves around the people who live inside. daily apocalypses running in our heads. we have all been judged and condemned. and thus the chosen have spoken.
Friday, January 14, 2005
Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind
i saw eternal sunshine of the spotless mind. a delightfully endearing film to those who have seen it, and a delightfully endearing film to those who havent.
for those who havent, i found 2 quotes quite interesting and contemplative that i would like to share with all:
1. "Blessed are the forgetful; for they get the better even of their blunders."
- Friedrich Nietzsche
2. "How happy is the blameless Vestal's lot! / The world forgetting, by the world forgot / Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind! / Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd"
- Alexander Pope (poem written by him named "Eloisa to Abelard")
and now i will go and spend some time thinking up ways to think about these quotes so that they dont affect me for the rest of my life. dont want the aphorisms of great men echoing through the bylanes of my life and times.
ciao.
for those who havent, i found 2 quotes quite interesting and contemplative that i would like to share with all:
1. "Blessed are the forgetful; for they get the better even of their blunders."
- Friedrich Nietzsche
2. "How happy is the blameless Vestal's lot! / The world forgetting, by the world forgot / Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind! / Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd"
- Alexander Pope (poem written by him named "Eloisa to Abelard")
and now i will go and spend some time thinking up ways to think about these quotes so that they dont affect me for the rest of my life. dont want the aphorisms of great men echoing through the bylanes of my life and times.
ciao.
back in black
went on a trip to India. this trip was hugely educational. or maybe i had my mind closed the last time, and all the time i lived in desh. anyhow, i wouldnt really know the difference.
the roads that lead to nowhere are often the ones that one can enjoy without the knowledge of an end, of a gain. and nowhere, i found out, is a pretty good place to hang out in.
i will summarise my short philosophical lesson with these famous words from a book thats so weird that it says "dont panic" on the front cover; "You live and learn. At any rate, you live."
please spend some precious and invaluable moments of your limited time to ponder over this piece of profound inanity(?). i would be hugely disappointed if i dont at least have your mom shout at you for wasting time over worthless pursuits, or your dad wondering yet again if you will amount to anything.
ciao for now. keep on rockin in the free world.
the roads that lead to nowhere are often the ones that one can enjoy without the knowledge of an end, of a gain. and nowhere, i found out, is a pretty good place to hang out in.
i will summarise my short philosophical lesson with these famous words from a book thats so weird that it says "dont panic" on the front cover; "You live and learn. At any rate, you live."
please spend some precious and invaluable moments of your limited time to ponder over this piece of profound inanity(?). i would be hugely disappointed if i dont at least have your mom shout at you for wasting time over worthless pursuits, or your dad wondering yet again if you will amount to anything.
ciao for now. keep on rockin in the free world.
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