Uptown.

I introduced you guys to AB and Rhythm Mandir in one of my previous posts (The Don Rajaa & His Rainbow Raani.) AB is back with his latest single 'Uptown'. To check out the song visit Rhythm Mandir (AB, Abin and Michael) in their new space @ Myspace.com... http://www.myspace.com/rhythmmandir. You can listen to best of Rhythm Mandir here.

It's that time again... Yep da time to get down don rajaa style... :) I loved the song, lemme know what you people feel.

Be sure to have those earphones/speakers plugged in before you access the link...

Of prose and poetry...

I have asked myself at times (especially since nobody else asks me) , "What exactly is the difference between prose and poetry?" I will not pretend to be qualified enough to comment on all the aspects of this topic. However, one important difference, I feel, lies in the way we present both. How else would you explain the following three pieces, which are composed of the exact same words in the exact same order, just presented differently?

Prose

There are times when I thought, I should go out and see the world. You know how I like the placid rivers and mountains capped, with snow glaciers flowing down the valleys. Ever so slow those silent nights. Under the light of the stars that glow search for passages, through which the cool winds blow and deny the sweat to form, on my brow.

Poem - I

There are times when I thought, I should go
Out and see the world, you know.
How I like the placid rivers and mountains capped, with snow
Glaciers flowing down the valleys, ever so slow
Those silent nights, under the light of the stars that glow
Search for passages, through which the cool winds blow.
And deny the sweat to form, on my brow.

Poem - II

There are times when I thought,
I should go out and see the world,
You know how I like the placid rivers and mountains capped,
With snow glaciers flowing down the valleys,
Ever so slow those silent nights,
Under the light of the stars that glow search for passages,
Through which the cool winds blow.
And deny the sweat to form, on my brow.

Funny isn't it... Let me know what you people feel.

Free country, free time...

Free time.
Lots of it.
All mine.
To do what I wish.

I wish,
Of time I had more.
To carve my niche,
In this world so cold.

So cold,
Let me close the door.
No, I should be bold,
Go out and create a furor.

A furor,
In the market below.
What causes this uproar?
They desecrate a statue of that fellow.

That fellow,
He looks at me.
With peace his face aglow.
Tell me people what was his crime.

His crime,
They shout back,
As they defile him with grime.
He threw us off track.

Off track,
How can that be?
After centuries in the dark,
He helped you break free.

Break free,
"From where and into what?" they demand.
Into the darkness that you see?
Look at the plight of our motherland

Our motherland,
Her future is not so bleak
It is in our hands
To stand up and stop being weak

Being weak,
Is one thing you see,
Quite another when you don’t speak
Against the injustice plaguing our country.

Our country,
Corruption it's biggest vice.
It won't end if you just sit and cry,
So, why don’t you take my advice?

My advice,
They take because we give them bribes,
That, my friends, is the way of life.
Stop giving, that will open their eyes.

Their eyes,
Blood shot and bigoted.
Terror ringing in their cries,
Religious zealots, politically misguided.

Politically misguided,
That’s what most people are,
Some just keep quiet when derided,
Others go out and declare war.

Declare war,
On the evils that surround,
Not with weapons, nor with fear,
One with love, one to bring peace all around.

All around,
A message needs to be spread by you.
A message to those who vilify our land,
Pass on the message of that fellow, our Bapu.

Our Bapu,
The man who carved a niche in this world,
Not for himself but for me and for you.
Let us in our free time spread his word.

His word,
To be truthful, just and fair,
Not to live the life of a coward,
With truth and non-violence confront every liar.

Every liar,
Shall have to answer they say,
We now repent for our acts so dire.
We shall for his forgiveness pray.

Before I wither

The angel of death calls me hither,
Whilst my heart still yearns to linger
To live a loveless life or like a virgin flower wither,
Tell me my friends, which is better.
In this life I have tasted many a medicine bitter,
None worse than the love i couldn't savour.
To live a loveless life or like a virgin flower wither,
Tell me my friends, which is better.
Love I have heard is a miracle worker,
How would I know? I never have met her.
To live a loveless life or like a virgin flower wither,
Tell me my friends, which is better.
I do not wish to pass on into the heavens yonder,
If true love, is to be found in the lands of Lucifer.
Yes, like the virgin flower I am ready to wither,
I take your leave my friends. My love awaits me in the nether.

***

On a day like today.

Wake up in the morning, feeling so sticky,
Grin into the mirror, at my teeth so yucky,
Try to mend my hair, ever so mucky,
The water supply is cut off, oh how lucky.

This is the kind of day I hate,
Makes me want to defecate.
The situation is very delicate,
Someone is already in there, oh what a fate.

Don’t ask me what happened in there,
But I come out as hungry as a bear.
Open the fridge, smile at the solitary pear,
Alas it is rotten, my tummy quakes in fear.

Seething, I turn to where my clothes are hung,
No time to iron, they look so worn and wrung.
I step into my shoes, covered all over in dung,
It can’t get messier, looks like the fat lady has sung.

Against time I have to race,
Sweat pouring down my sticky face,
I win, but of the bus there is no trace.
It comes ten minutes late, there I rest my case.

I sit in the bus feeling humid at hot,
Try to open the window but budge it will not.
My latest crush giggles at my grotesque double knot,
Dear Mr. Murphy, in hell may you rot.

Enter office feeling blue, black and yellow,
Just in time to hear the boss bellow,
“Come here, you lazy, incompetent fellow”.
Feels like someone just hit me down below.

Expletives ringing in my ear I go to lunch,
Buy myself a burger and bananas by the bunch,
Open the burger to look inside on a hunch.
Copulating worms are using the cutlet as a park bench.

I leave the happy couples to make merry,
Have a couple of bananas and try to finish work in a hurry.
I can’t concentrate; with hunger my eyes go blurry,
The guy next to me burps after having rice and curry.

For the day to end I cannot wait,
It’s like hoping for a storm to abate.
As the clock strikes five I rush out the gate,
Just to slip on a peel I threw after I ate.

Clamber into the bus fearing the worst,
There sits my crush, alone, in deep thought.
Of this opportunity I try to make the most,
Try talking to her but she asks me to get lost.

I enter the house thirsting for a drink,
Open the tap and mud oozes into the sink.
My roommate tells me that I stink,
I show him a finger and tell him what I think.

I lie in bed humming my favorite song,
Am stopped in mid-verse by a clock gong,
Thirteen times the clock goes on and on.
Thus ends a day that went so horribly wrong.

Up here on cloud no. 9

Yes, I am in love. That oh so great feeling of touching the soft green grass and the fluffy white clouds at the same time has me completely overwhelmed. Rushing out of office in a tearing hurry to meet her in the evenings, controlling the urge to ring up and check on her in case she gets that ever so lethal feeling that I am being too possessive, thinking about her all through the day and about all the fun we had together the previous evening.

Doing all those typical things that typical lovers so typically do, which don’t seem all that typical to us anymore. We sit gazing into each other’s eyes for absurdly long periods of time, two bodies sharing one soul. Sometimes I feel that she is just an extension of me. Someone sent with the purpose of broadening my horizons and forever changing the way I view things. I feel at times that another dimension has been added to me. I consider her as an extension of my mind’s eye. Someone who captures all that my roving eye and my wayward ears might miss. Her one look is enough to tell me that she considers me as her true inner self. Someone who helps her express herself, someone who helps bring to fore her innate talents, someone with whom she can share all her stories, someone to whom she can show all that she sees, tell all that she hears. I am above all her best friend to whom she ever so softly purrs her most intimate secrets.

Yes, I am in love and I love being in love. It can’t be true what they say about love being blind, otherwise how could I have been drawn towards those mesmerizing eyes. Infatuation you say, I don’t think so. This is something which I expect to blossom into a long term relationship, not one of those short flings one has when he/she has a lot of spare time and does not know how better to utilize it than picking on some unsuspecting soul and professing unending love for her/him.

For the first time in my life someone has reciprocated my feelings and accepted me just as warmly as I have courted her. I believe I can see God in the heavens dressed in his impeccable white suit, as the “modern” God is wont to, leaning back into his easy-chair, pulling at the pipe in his mouth, exhaling a puff of snow white smoke and beaming at how another one of his successful plans to unite two of his creations fell ever so beautifully into place. The best laid plans of men and mice often go awry, but one can’t talk in quite the same vein as one may talk about mice and men, when one is referring to the Almighty. He has a plan for each and every one of us and I am glad that this is what he had planned for me.

One look at my angel and you will agree that I could not have been lying. Here is a little song which might sound funny and ridiculous to all you people out there but it is something I say from the bottom of my heart and nothing is going to stop me from expressing it today. The wordings of this poem are directed at the readers and dedicated to my love.

When I close my eyes,
And look up at the dark blue skies.
I can see the eagle soaring high.
Through my angel’s eye.

When I close my ears,
And see you moved to tears.
I can hear your cries.
My angel, she brings me your sighs.

When I told her I was going to write about her and tell all my friends who read my posts and anyone else in the whole wide world (or the world wide web) who cared to read my blog about my newfound love, she was shy at first, but then reluctantly agreed on the condition that I would not put her photo on my blog. She forgot however that I could put a link to her photo and show how she looked without actually having her picture on my blog.

Click here to see how my angel looks.

The view is really great up here on cloud number 9.

I am a Hufflepuff. What are u???

Which Hogwarts house will you be sorted into?

They put me in Hufflepuff. Click the link above to see where you will be placed. I know a couple you will surely be Slytherins if you are true to yourselves. So, no cheating guys. Give truthful (NO, almost truthful will not do) answers and see where you would have been.

These are my in depth results according to them:

Hufflepuff : 13

Ravenclaw: 13

Gryffindor: 12

Slytherin: 06

Finally, proof that I am a nice guy after all. This post goes out especially to all my detractors.

The Don Rajaa & His Rainbow Raani.

Before I go into what Rainbow Raani is all about let me give you guys a little bit of background on this. Once upon a time... Ok, I promise I will not put you all to sleep.

Once upon a time, there were two dashing, handsome and talented (atleast one of them was) guys. We'll call them AB and Madan, shall we. Both of them absolutely loved (and they still love) music and dance. They used to practise their dance steps in ABs house, with the hope that they would, one day, make it to the popular (and their favourite) dance show "Boogie-Woogie". They loved to rap along with the Don Rajaa of Indian music, Apache Indian. Music and cricket were their two greatest loves. AB was an amazing keyboard and tabla player, and a great all-rounder. He had a great voice too. Madan had a good ear for music, loved to dance and could send the cricket ball into orbit with a mighty swing of his bat. They enjoyed the time they spent together. They used to have a whale of a time breaking window-panes, scaring their little sisters, pelting passerbys with fruits and a helluva lot of other pranks.

Well, like all good things their amazing times came to an end as these best of pals had to part ways. Higher education beckoned AB and his SAT scores were high enough to get him a full scholarship in an university of his choice in the US of A. Madan, meanwhile stayed back in India and went on to become a run of the mill software engineer. Correspondence, through e-mails were few and far between as both of them got caught up in their gruelling schedules. The music however did not die. Madan became a great dancer and took each and every oppurtunity that came his way to do his inebirated bhangra at parties (come on not a professional dancer, maybe a professional drinker). AB however decided to channel his talents and passion into something a little more fruitful. He floated a sucessful band in the US. The band goes under the name "Rhythm Mandir".

That has been their story so far.

Obvious questions, you are bound to be asking me/yourself:

a) Who are these guys AB and Madan? Do we know them?

b) Why the hell are you telling us about this?

c) What is Rainbow Raani?

The not so obvious answers:

a) Well, you know them. Yes!!! You love them too. Still thinking... Here they are...

AB (Arnab Banerjee) Madan (Yeah, me)

Yes I love dancing. You guys better stop laughing now or your heads will roll, i swear.

b) Why I am telling you all this is because Rhythm Mandir is doing really well in the US, and I am really happy for (and extremely proud of) my pal Arnab, who is their lead vocalist and keys player.

Rhythm Mandir is the HOTTEST Indian music sensation in the US. Their 'Rainbow Raani' soundtrack, is set for a 2006 release. Also something worth watching out for is their debut Hindi album, also set for a 2006 release.

They will also be giving a live performace at the Bollywood Awards 2006, to be held in New Jersey.

c) Yep, you guessed it Rhythm Mandir is the band that has lent it's musical talents to the movie "Rainbow Raani".

It is going to be a musical love story about a love which extends beyond the physical and bonds all races and genders. The Rainbows is a talented musical band of four young men, like the Beatles were of Liverpool... Click here to find out more.

Hope, I have put to rest the most basic of queries about Rhythm Mandir. Contact me in case of any queries and in case you like what you hear at http://www.rainbowraani.com which I am sure you will, then be sure to join the Rhythm Mandir Fan Club in Orkut, to keep yourself updated about the latest happenings.

To my buddy:

A toast to you pal. I am so glad that you are living your dream. Wish you all the very best in life pal. Here is a "balle balle" to you:

Luv,

Madan Bhai :)

Mujhe mil jo jaye thoda paisa…

Money, money, money,
That’s what I crave honey.
To fulfill my needs aplenty,
When will I get my bounty?

Everybody loves money,
Be it Indian rupees or foreign currency.
It can get you all you fancy.
Till your death, right from infancy

Come on everybody,
Come shake your booty,
Come move your body,
To the rhythm of money

Money, money, money,
It’s driving me crazy.
Working away till twelve thirty,
To make that extra penny

Everybody loves money,
Alladin and his darned genie,
The evil sorcerer and his dumb crony.
They all love it till they go loony.

Come on everybody,
Come shake your booty,
Come move your body,
To the rhythm of money

Money, money, money,
Always comes in handy.
Money my dear will buy me candy,
And a little more buys a bottle of brandy.

Everybody loves money,
From King Kong to the tooth fairy,
They all want to own a factory,
Which mints nothing, but money

Come on everybody,
Come shake your booty,
Come move your body,
To the rhythm of money

Money, money, money,
Makes me feel so thrifty,
Money my love is real nifty,
Money my love drives a Ferrari.

Everybody loves money,
Molly, Dolly and Tiffany,
Monty, Bunty and Timothy.
Sad that money loves nobody.

Come on everybody,
Come shake your booty,
Come move your body,

To the rhythm of money

***

Ramp walk to screen talk to calling the shots.

Guess who is making his foray into production ventures. If you don't know already then help yourself to these three clues.

a) He was the captain of his college football team.

b) He can’t decide whether he is “hot” or “cool”. Most of the girls think he is hot, guys grudgingly admit that he might be cool.

c) He is half mallu. ( going crazeeeee, crazy about coconuts.)

Come to think of it, the title of this post is also a clue, and a huge one at that. If you are still guessing then you either:-

a) Hate movies

b) Are not Indian

c) Hate mallus (am yet to come across a single non-mallu who hates a mallu, so you must be a mallu yourself)

d) There are few more options that can't really be disclosed on such a public (yes, more than two people visit my blog, so it may be called public) forum.

Click here to know the answer.

Click here for more news on the production venture.

Is life a two edged sword or something?

Is life a two edged sword or something?
Behold, my path shining bright in the lightning.
Bringing with it the deafening sound of thunder,
That rips me apart, tears me asunder.

That night, freebasing myself to a beautiful high,
Thinking of old times and letting out a tired sigh.
The acrid smoke giving me a hazy satisfaction,
My body pays the price of my vile temptation.

Rain pelting down on that hot night brings me relief,
But drenches the old man in the street, survival his only belief.
Yesterday’s paper for me is trash to be thrown away,
The old man will use it as his bed today.

Have a dream that I am reaching for the stars,
Just to burn my hands leaving deep scars.
Then I wake up to my morning cup of tea,
So hot, that it scalds my tongue you see.

Running wildly through the meadows,
Being chased by what seems like shadows.
Shadows of my past, they don’t seem to tire.
I try to run faster but my feet are stuck fast in quagmire.

From the ghosts of the past I must break free,
The will-o'-wisp of future stands ready to lead me.
But, am I really ready to let go of everything?

Is life a two edged sword or something?

***

Adios Amigos...

Feeling defeated,
Like I have been shift-deleted.
Looks like I have been erased,
From the minds I thought had cared.

Have been taking a lot of shit,
Standing right back up after each hit.
Don’t know how much longer I can take it,
Every time I feel like I am pushing the limit.

I have been refusing to give in,
My patience wearing ever so thin.
The way people keep blowing me off,
Like they are the rice and me the chaff.

I don’t even know why I am bothering,
Maybe I should just let everybody do their own thing.
Maybe I should just put and end to this strife,
And do what someone once said “Sumod, go get a life.”

Loneliness is a bitch (ok before the women’s lobby comes out with banners and placards I apologize to all the bitches I know… Oops I mean, to all the ladies I know). I have never felt loneliness; at-least never realized it till the 24th year of my existence. Getting emotionally attached to someone is a strict no – no for me, and I say this purely out of experience. An ex-active promoter of the cause of limitless friendship I have through my own trials and tribulations (and also from the experiences of others) realized that once you let someone into your head, heart or life knowingly or like in most cases unknowingly then you are in for a roller coaster ride. You are unwittingly drawn into a cesspool of emotions which you never even knew existed, the likes of which you find yourself totally ill equipped to handle (especially if before that point of time you used to be one of those cold emotionless @#$&^* like me). I must thank my stars that I didn’t ever get completely swept away and had one foot firmly planted on the ground which prevented me from falling down on my backside (which is huge and strong like the restof me in case you were wondering) and making a complete fool out of myself. From now on I am keeping the words limitless and friendship at a distance from each other, a distance that tends really close to infinity.

In this world of hitherto uncharted emotions I am all at sea and flailing my arms in a hopelessly desperate (redundant use of superlatives just to give you a feel of how screwed up it really is) attempt to stay afloat. I feel like a convict fresh out of prison trying to socialize with people from the so called “genteel” world. I feel so ready to slip back into the easy camaraderie of the hard core criminals I left behind, so ready to repeat the crime I once committed or to commit some new crime just to feel the warmth of my cold cell once again.

I had successfully disappeared without a trace once, now I find myself gearing up to do the same thing again. Solitude and me go back a long way and now it looks like we are going to be back together again and pick up on our affair from where we had left off. Now don’t mistake my solitude for loneliness. In those times I had my heart and mind in one place (with me), now I find myself stuck in the center with my mind wanting me to go one way and my heart pulling me the other way. Solitude will in all probability put an end to this horrible conflict that has been rocking my boat for some time now. Solitude does not mean that I am going to shut myself up in some dingy room with just books for company or go to some uninhabited island with just coconut trees (though the mallu in me is singing "goin crazy, crazy about coconuts") for company. Solitude for me means what I am thinking stays strictly in my own head. I will be hard-nosed, hardheaded and hard of hearing to everything other than what I feel strictly interests me. Enough of being Mr. Good Guy a.k.a Mr. Door Mat a.k.a Mr. Toilet Paper. The only emotion I will wear is one of perpetual irritation.

Till when is this going to go on? Till whatever amount of time I want it to go on for. Till I feel that the world or someone in this world is savvy enough to handle my emotions. A lot will change by the time I re-emerge into this world, hopefully for the better. Till then it’s adios to all you amigos.

P.S: These are not the feelings of the author. The author is looking at the world from the eyes of a "good guy". Those who know (or atleast think that they know) the author personally will vouch for the fact that author is actually far from being a good guy... :D Had written this about a month back i think.

More Questions...

What, where, who, how, why and a truckload full of other questions which may or may not be a permutation or combination or will in the very least be some other manifestation of the aforementioned basic questions, traverse the topography of my brain in the form of infinitesimal pulses. These elusive little pulses, quietly make their way into oblivion and leave behind as few tracks as possible. If only I could, for once make a successful attempt to follow these pulses then I could probably arrive at the answer. The answer I am talking about is the ultimate one to each and every question in this whole wide world and probably in this whole wide Universe and the next one, basically the answer to every question in all creation. However it is very difficult during these moments of existential angst to keep track of a tiny little speck of electrical charge that surges through the creases and folds of one’s brain.

Some however might want to argue on the point that there already exists an ultimate answer. These people who seem find solace in escapism say that the ultimate answer is nothing but “No Comments”. Boring and dull though this answer seems it will take a turn for the interesting if the person who questions is very persistent. Two of my friends Angee (female and a delicious one at that) and Blade (male, not as good looking as me) seem to have gotten into an argument because of Blades’ certain apparently not so straight preferences. Blade is banking on the “No Comments” path to escape.

Angee: (From the adjoining room) Blade are you there?

Blade: (From the room next to the adjoining room in which Angee is) No Comments.

Angee: (Storming into the room next to the adjoining
room. From the adjoining room of course) What the @#%$ did you just say?

Blade: No Comments.

Angee: (Presumably a little taken aback) What do you mean by saying “No Comments”?

Blade: No Comments.

Angee: What the @#%$ ?

Blade: No Comments.

Angee: Have you gone totally out of your
mind?

Blade: No Comments.

Angee: Ok!!! Now what is this picture of you kissing this guy in a gay pub doing on the front page of the newspaper???

Blade: No Comments.

Angee: Why didn’t you tell me before that you were gay???

Blade: No Comments.

Angee: Who is this guy in your life?

Blade: No Comments.

Angee: (Inching towards the rather expensive and heavy flower vase that is situated on a corner table in the corner of the room next to the adjoining room again as seen from the adjoining room) It’s Tommy isn’t it?

Blade: No Comments.

Angee: (Reaching out for that rather heavy and expensive vase. Which one? The one on the corner table in the room next to…. Ah forget it, I think you get the picture by now) How could you do this to me u thick @@#$@?

Blade: No Comme…. (Crash, Bang and the sickening feeling you get when you feel that you are lying on the floor with your brain splattered across the wall in front of your own eyes. This feeling (whatever feeling it is) also deepens when you realize that the expensive Ming vase that you paid a fortune for just three days back is now lying shattered beside you.)

Well, so much for Blade’s attempt. The moral of the story however is that escapism never answers any question it just paves the way for more questions. So, do most other answers. Innumerable occasions come to my mind when I have heard a person telling me that he has just one question to ask and then I end up replying to a barrage of so called “follow up” questions. Yes, it just underlines my inability to answer a question correctly.

In, essence the ultimate answer that I am searching for is not really one single answer. No, that can not be. I feel what I am really looking for is an effective technique to answer questions. A technique that produces such an effective and complete answer, which keeps in mind the person asking the question and eradicates all doubt from his/her mind regarding the question he had asked and the ones he would otherwise have asked.

There, this means another quest for me into the vastly unexplored realms of the human mind. Whilst I plan to dive in and find an ultimate solution, any suggestions on how I should go about it or whether I should go about it at all are welcome.

Will I come up with the ultimate answer? How long will it take me if it can be actually achieved? Will it stand the test of time?

For now the only answer I have for all your questions is “No Comments”.

P.S: Here are the translations of few symbols that I have used above:

@#%$ = stands for heck :)
@@#$@ = stands for skull...

My First Ode to the World Cup

The world is a psychedelic shade of red,

I don’t feel like getting out of bed.

Last night I was up watching the match,

No, not the one in which Dravid dropped a catch.

I am talking about the one in which Neuville,

Helped Germany climb a steep hill.

They were facing a resistance from the Poles,

Who were blocking all their attempts at scoring goals.

Michael Ballack and co with all their pyrotechnics,

Couldn't help the Germans find their bearings.

They missed an umpteen number of chances,

A clear cut case of mistimed headers and aimless glances.

The match was headed for a goalless draw,

Until Neuville exploited the defensive flaw.

One team’s pain was the other team’s pleasure,

The Poles had folded up under the pressure.

To the round of 16 the Germans have almost made it,

While the Poles prepare for an early exit.

The world is a psychedelic shade of red,

Must be all the Polish blood that was shed.

***

A need to write

Tireless fingers finding the right keys in the right sequence, struggling to keep pace with the mind, that processes thoughts into words at a speed that even light would envy, pausing only to slide the spectacles back up the bridge of my nose. This, for me, sums up what a perfect day at writing should be like. It is this immaculate day that I seek. My original utopian dream, the one my heart truly yearns for. That one day, which will be devoid of all the writer’s blocks, those untimely hiccups while I am in the middle of constructing a ravishingly beautiful sentence. The day, I write about something that has captured my imagination, something so elusive yet so familiar, as to put sleep, food and drink out of my mind.

For quite some time now, I have tried to chronicle a lot of emotions, facts and events. Things, which I felt, will be of some significance. Some of which I know for sure I will never again set my eyes upon. Attempts, some partly successful some completely gone awry, at capturing those moments which, I felt, had an impact on my life. Attempts to put down on paper those moments, where heart wrenching spasms, racked through my body. I have tried to capture those times, when unbounded joy made me leap for the stars only to be stopped by the seemingly unobtrusive ceiling. Ouch!!! Sometimes I have written disjointed sentences in nebulous paragraphs in an attempt to capture each and every thought running through my head. One contradicting thought superimposed on the other.

Somebody once told me “Why don’t you just try using a camera? A picture is, after all, worth a thousand words. Isn’t it?” I will still prefer jotting down those thousand odd words to using the camera. If I use a camera to capture the moment then the smile might remain etched forever but the reason for the smile, the exact emotions I was going through at that moment, all of that would be lost forever. Again, while using a camera we end up capturing only the happier moments in our life. What about all those times when we felt sadness engulfing us? I feel that even those moments deserve to be recorded. Times when it hurt so much and in so many places, some of which you didn’t know existed before. Yes, they certainly are worth writing about. If I can share the joy then I can as well try and divide the pain but putting it down on paper or a webpage as the case may be.

The need to write has always been an important part of my life. Let’s just say that I get a lot of quiet time to spend with myself (ok I concede I have a non-existent social life). However I will never make the mistake of saying that I am a great with words (you can probably make out that I am not even close to becoming great from my blog). I would someday like to be called a good writer. One of those tiny little fancies people so often have.

I have heard people saying that at times to find yourself you need to look at yourself from another person’s perspective. Well, I don’t know if that is true but to become a writer of any kind of stature you certainly need to look at the world from another person’s perspective. Otherwise you end up telling the world just your side of the story. So, if any of you decides to get inspired after reading all this and takes up the pen (or the keyboard), then do remember to sensitize yourself to the other people’s emotions. Such attempts however are, more often than not, biased. Then you have to remind yourself that it is practice that brings you as close to perfection as you can dream of coming in this wretched/blessed lifetime of yours.

So, while you people decide whether you want to maintain an album of words or not, let me think as to what it is that I need to write about next. It is time for me to see which one of those unattended emotions is asking to be let out.

P.S: An album of words is not a diary. There is a marked difference between the two. I don’t maintain a diary.

Inactivity, Negativity, Proactivity and Other Activities

I am feeling really really tired...
Wanna sleep but fear i might get fired...
Work sucks and so does this wretched life...
God!!! Please show me a way to end this strife...

I am tired of questioning...
The management ain't even listening...
My throat is sore, I can no longer shout...
When is someone gonna help me out...

People asking me to be more proactive...
Makes me feel all the more negative...
Let there be work, that i will surely do...
Don't ask me to think of something outa the blue...

In the middle of all this inaction...
My questions don't bring forth any reaction...
Till then death through inactivity i must prevent...
For which new methods I am trying to invent...

Ah behold, to my rescue comes dear ol orkut...
Here I find long lost friends and babes who are cute...
At last I feel that I can do something...
As I wait for the fat lady to sing...

"Fun"aaa???

Had to go to office yday coz of some urgent work. Ended up doing just abt everything other than work. Swam, stood on the weighing machine, was so happy abt my weight that i treated myself to an extra heavy lunch (regretted that later however ), listened to songs, jumped around all over office something i wouldn't have dared to on a weekday... Man, I love office on Saturday.

Venkat called up sometime after lunch and asked if we wanted to catch a movie. Raj was game for a movie. Hemant thought Abids would be too far and Vasu backed out citing the lame excuse that he had some work ...

Fanaa had jus released the day before, but Venkat somehow managed the seemingly impossible... For Venkat impossible is nothing :p

Coming to the movie... amazing first half followed by a serious second half which too was interspersed with its cute lil funny moments especially with the introduction of Rehan junior... the movie was well taken... amzing cinematography... i particularly liked the song in which the rain falls when Aamir and Kajol are having dinner and the camera shot taken from top which shows the water drops bouncing off Kajol... It sure was a treat to watch...

First half had Amir Khan playing a guide and a bad poet (another one like me ) and the second half shows him in his true colors as an international terroist who like Tabu says had changed the face of terrorism in the Indian sub-continent...

Coming to the subtelities in the movie. The movie is politically neutral. It does not support any cause and does not ask you to empathize or sympathize with either party... The movie is neither pro India or pro Pakistan, neither pro Terrorism nor pro Peace. It's a movie abt choices.

Felt that most of the characters were selfish to a certain extent. Which gives it a lil bit of the reality touch. On the whole the flick is a heady mix and has some James Bond style stunts thrown in for good measure...

A very very watchable movie ( for lack of a better word )...

For you to decide if it is Fun or aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Love & The World...

Love the sand,
Slipping through my fingers.
Love the hand,
That touches and lingers.

Love the rain,
Drumming on my tin roof.
Love the pain,
When you box me in spoof.

Love the wind,
Ruffling my hair.
Love the kind,
Thoughtful look you wear.

Love the scent,
Of the rain soaked earth.
Love the hint,
Of honey in your breath

Love the hush,
Of the peaceful night.
Love your lush,
Dark hair that shines so bright.

Love the melody,
That echoes in my ear.
Love to see you my lady,
In that red gown you wear.

Love the birds,
Singing from their perch on the tree.
Love the words,
That you say so lovingly to me.

Love the rainbow,
After last night’s heavy rain.
Love to see your face glow,
Even through all the pain.

Love to wiggle my toe,
In the soft, freshly tilled land.
Love that feeling you know,
When you cling tightly to my hand.

Love the rhyme,
That sets the mind free.
Love the time,
That you spend fussing over me.

Love each simple pleasure,
This world has to offer.
Love you like a treasure,
That overflows my coffer.

Love my dear,
Has brought you to me.
Love! Don’t fear,
Let the rest of the world be.

***

After You Left.

Had my head up in the clouds,
When I heard this rumor doing the rounds,
Someone told me that you were leaving,
It hit me like a blow ‘n’ sent me reeling.

They said that you were going away,
Having decided to live life your own way.
Didn’t believe anything they said,
All my detractors who wished me dead.

Rushed home trying not to cry,
Just in time to see the taxi speeding by.
Bags packed and tied to the roof,
You sitting inside, cold and aloof.

Shouted your name out loud in the street,
Did not want to accept defeat.
Fought those tears, now crying to break free,
Threatening to drown the dreams I used to see

Hey it used to be us,
Since that day we met on the bus.
Till yesterday when we shared a coffee,
Now we are different people, you and me.

After all that we had been through,
How could you leave me so lost, so blue?
I did all that you told me to,
It was like you had me under voodoo.

Went up to the room, was greeted by the silence,
Couldn’t take it, slammed the door with violence.
Calmed down thinking that you would return,
Opened the door twenty times just to find no one.

Picked up the glass and the plate,
As usual you hadn’t cleaned up after you ate.
Wondering if this really was my fate,
What oh what had caused all this hate?

I told myself to be strong,
To stop thinking about what went wrong.
But it’s easier said than done you see,
You used to be a part of me.

What was it that really went wrong?
What made you just another face in the throng?
Was it that you found someone new?
Was it that my money was too little, too few?

Hmmm all these sleepless nights,
Thinking about you and how reality bites.
Sometimes I wish I hadn’t known you at all,
Sometimes for you to come stop this free-fall.

Now that you have left I feel so lost,
People telling me that I look like my ghost.
Trying to find a way out of this maze,
Am working my way through it in a daze.

Looking back at those moments we shared,
Sometimes I wonder if you really cared.
Doesn’t matter anymore you see,
This is the last time someone’s walking all over me.

***

Born on a thorn...

Muhahaha I am born,
Into this world, tattered and torn.
Feeling so lost, so forlorn,
Like i missed the rose and caught the thorn.

Whenever people call me a fool,
I blame it all on my school.
They told me to be nice to one and all,
Even if they pierce your heart with burning coal.

An idiot is what i feel like,
Not jus coz i cant ride a bike.
Not even becoz i dont get a salary hike,
But jus coz i really cant figure out my psyche.

About my life i could go on and on,
Like that ad of the battery Amaron,
But I think i had better be gone,
Someone is calling me on my damn phone.

***

Give me the answers.

Is there more to this world than I see?
What am I doing here and by whose decree?

Am I here to simply pass out my time?
Or is that really my biggest crime?

Am I here to mint more money?
Or is that a sign of impending felony?

Should I make knowledge my favorite dish?
Or is ignorance in reality bliss?

Am I here to travel far and wide?
Or just to let others take me for a ride?

Am I here to practice what I preach?
Or should I stop aiming for things out of my reach?

Should I be happy with where I am?
Or is being stagnant a cause for alarm?

Am I here to spread the love?
Or hear that word and raise my brow?

Am I here to care for the poor and needy?
Or just to shut up and continue being greedy?

Is there a way to know who is genuine and true?
Or should I help all those who come out of the blue?

Am I here to combat all this militancy?
Or should I kill my heroism in its infancy?

Am I here to stop all the mindless violence?
Or to quell my doubts and forever hold my silence?

Is there any way to try and stop all this hate?
Or will discussions pave way for another endless debate?

Am I here to stop all this profanity?
Or let it go as another flaw of humanity?

Am I here to try and end all this corruption?
Or just to stare as it goes past all redemption?

Should I be gracious to all and sundry?
Or should curtsies be reserved only for the gentry?

Am I here to lead the way?
Or just to go by what others say?

Am I here to stamp my authority?
Or give others’ feelings higher priority?

Should I listen to my heart and do as I am told?
Or just leave my emotions out in the cold?

Am I here to defeat the evil that holds sway?
Or just to turn my back and run away?

Am I here to be the savior of the world?
Or just to sit back and let someone else be bold?

Is there any way to know what I have to do?
I would love to ask someone, but then who?

***

Bohemian Rap...

I came out searching for unbridled fun.
Now I return, my head hung.
Here I stand, emotions denuded,
All shook up, my faith beheaded.

The grass is always greener on the other side,
That’s one truth you cannot hide.
In-spite of that I gave it a shot,
Tried to be someone I was not.

Tried to put my life in some kind of order,
In a bid to climb up the ‘social ladder’.
Guess I really didn’t come up trumps,
Ending up with only the bruises and lumps.

From, the casual, “Hey, Wassup dude?”
To the sweet and sugary, “Hello! How do you do?”
It’s been quite a transition,
Correction, almost a transformation.

What is it that makes you stick to the rule?
When being the exception is almost always cool.
You look down on me, calling me selfish,
Just because I do something you don’t wish.

The irony always fails on you.
Only telling me that I can’t take a cue.
My mind here is almost going decrepit,
Trying to make everything so explicit.

Other times you just go ballistic,
Trying to tell me that I am sarcastic.
You take my occasional naughty nip,
As a show of intolerable one-upmanship.

And when it has all gone down,
Here I am, on my own now.
Self respect torn beyond repair,
I stand alone, with nothing to fear.

You call me a social misfit,
Why don’t you let me be myself for a bit?
You shut the door on my face with a bang.
I don’t mind, because I am who I am.

Then the way you ask me how I feel,
Like you care more for the boot at your heel.
You think I am going to tell you anymore,
Just to have u treat me like an eyesore.

From now I decide where to go.
No need for any more genteel show.
No need for all the social spit and polish,
I am going back into my shell, my acropolis.

Let me retreat to that comfortable shade,
Even heroes know when to be afraid.
Hero!!! Me??? Sorry, don’t have the glamour.
I am not even a knight, let alone the shining armor.

I mean to go back to my bohemian lifestyle,
Leaving this path of incongruous self-denial.
There she is, eagerly waiting my arrival,
Forgive me bohemia; I am but the prodigal.

***

Running (Dont ask where to.)

Running is a pain,
From which I really don’t gain.
I don’t seem to lose any weight,
And I really miss getting up late.

Every morning when I check it at 4:30,
The weighing scale always says 140.
I hang my head in shame,
Lack of sleep is driving me insane.

I need to stop feeling strange,
Will this sensation ever change?
I can’t bend to tie my lace,
Is that such a big disgrace?

I go out into the morning chill,
Telling myself that running is a thrill.
Happy that I am not carrying my phone,
For once I seem to be truly left alone.

I break into a jog,
Trying to clear the fog.
My mind seems unusually cloudy,
Must be last night’s brandy.

As I start to pant,
My mind seems to go on the rant.
I brace against the reverberations,
Of my bodily lamentations.

Lungs aching for a fag,
Stamina and determination beginning to sag.
Ignoring the steady flow of perspiration,
I look around for some inspiration.

Eyes scanning the desolate landscape,
I realize that I am badly out of shape.
Hearing footsteps behind me,
I quickly turn around and see.

Ah there she was like a breath of fresh air,
The beautiful damsel with flowing black hair.
I would loved to have asked her to stop,
But I didn’t know what to do about her pop.

They ran along and disappeared around the curve,
I cursed myself for my lack of nerve.
Not wanting to take the beaten path,
I decided to get back home and take my bath.

Is it the pain from the run or the run from the pain,
Why do I keep thinking so much in vain?
Anyway now that time has come,

Joining me for lemon tea anyone?

***

Contemplations of a Sleepless Mind

Rat – a – tat… followed by a prolonged creak. I found myself waking up to the sounds of the ceiling fan slowing to a standstill. Beads of perspiration were already beginning to form on my forehead, when the sound of the fan creaking to a halt was replaced by the ominous droning of the friendly neighborhood mosquitoes. My final vestiges of hope of salvaging any sleep that night were thrown out of the window by a sudden flurry of thoughts that came rushing into my head. Disjointed faces, facts and figures flashed through my head in organized pandemonium, with the sole purpose being not letting me get back to my dreams. I opened my eyes with a start and as if on cue the commotion inside my head ceased.

With the accuracy of an arrow leaving a champion archer’s bow my hand shot out and found my Nokia 2210. It was 2:05 am and there were no new messages or missed calls. I sat up trying to organize my thoughts and cursing everyone from the Chief Minister sleeping peacefully in his AC room to our watchman snoring on his string cot in the open air. Just as I decided that going back to sleep was no longer an option Mr. Murphy and his wretched law reared their ugly heads and the fan creaked back to life. I plopped back on to the bed relieved but unable to close my eyes. Five minutes of struggling and a host of unnecessary thoughts later I sat up again. Instinct took me to the edge of the sink and I switched on the lights, while avoiding looking into the mirror, lest I scare myself. Adjusting to the light forcing its way into my eyes I opened the tap and splashed water on my face. A few drops left my hands and landed on the mirror.

I looked up unwittingly to see the drops racing each other to the bottom of the mirror, paths crisscrossing at times. At these junctures the drops stopped as if to exchange friendly banter before hurrying off along parallel paths to oblivion. Each meeting seemed to take place in a time warp, the intersecting drops too engrossed in each other to notice the others hurrying past them.. Some seemed to defy this rule as they charted the rest of the course clinging on to each other. A solitary drop slowly made its way down wondering what all the excitement around it was about. I couldn’t help smiling as the glaring similarity with human lives stuck me in the face.

I was jolted out of my reverie by the sound of my father’s bed squeaking as he shifted in his sleep. Hmmm… so here I was up and about at 2:15 in the morning, with nothing to do in particular. A lemon tea seemed like the perfect way to start the rest of my day. The first and possibly the worst of the half a dozen lemon teas I have during the course of my day. The rest are in the company of friends, in the lobby of my office building ogling at pretty faces and cracking raunchy (at times witty) jokes. Emboldened at times by the sense of being in a group I sing “Duniya Hasseno Ka Mela… Mele Mein Yeh Dil Akela”. Akela (alone/single) and Sumod (great happiness) are the words which define me best. Since my parents couldn’t possibly have named me Akela, without having the rest of the world look down at me in pity, I am called Sumod. Till now these words have only made sense as a pair. I am still waiting for someone to come along and change it (not desperately though). It’s scary at times when I think that Sumod might lose Akela and have nothing great to show for it.
I smiled once more thinking about the water droplets, feeling increasingly proud (ok a tad haughty) about my power of observation and interpretation.

I started looking for the lighter or a matchbox in order to start the fire on the stove. After 15 minutes of frantic but unsuccessful searching I could practically feel the frustration starting to seep in. If necessity is the mother of invention then frustration must be the father. I began to think about innovative ideas to light a fire. I came up with a few absolutely brilliant ones. Can’t really tell you at the moment what they are though. I will probably let you know once I get them patented. I was about to put one of them to test when dad walked in (probably woken by the decibel level of my frantic search), and relieved me of the duty of making tea.

As the tea was boiling and the water level rising I began to think about my rising frustration level. I realized that I was frustrated about quite a few things. From my love life (actually about the lack of any love in my life) to my job, everything at that moment seemed frustrating in one way or the other.

For now I am “optimized” (for lack of a better word) to being another Software Engineer. Like they say in Bangalore if you spit out of a moving vehicle it will probably land on a Software Engineer and in 3 out of 4 cases the person will be from ******* (Eeeew, gross. I am not going anywhere near that place. Hyderabad Rocks.). Not that I hate coding. Code is actually the love of my life (till now). But, I hardly seem to be moving on to writing new or better code. Growth in the software industry ironically and sadly so is indirectly proportional to the amount of coding one gets to do. Lethargy starts to set in, and once it gets a grip on your life, you are all but doomed (in my humble opinion). I think it’s time I did something about my directionless attempt at work. Various career options have been running through my mind. I have to narrow them down to 2 or 3 and then do some serious thinking.

Anyway that was enough of contemplation and frustration for one morning. I have better things to do now. Lemon tea anyone???

P.S: Those who are thinking that this guy deserves to be a boring philosopher. Yes, am actively considering that option too.

My Team...

 

More about the breath of fresh air.

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Hey people check out their web-site http://paritrana.org . Here you can get to know the profiles of the five "saviours".

They even have a online form which you can download and fill up to get a party membership. Check it out people.

A breath of fresh air, or old candy in a new wrapper.

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Finally, finally, finally someone takes up the initiative. If their credentials are anything to go by then this is the begining of a new era in Indian politics. I have Ctrl+C ed and Ctrl+V ed the article from Economic Times for your benefit. Read on...


Tech tonic: IITians form political partyPOOJA VIRENDRA KUMARTIMES NEWS NETWORK[ TUESDAY, JANUARY 24, 2006 12:47:46 PM]

BANGALORE: Seems like Mani Rathnam’s Yuva is getting off the reels. Five IITians, all in their 20s, have decided to take up mainstream politics. The youths, based in Jodhpur, will be in the city to campaign for their national party, “ Paritrana’’ , which was launched in Jodhpur on Friday.
“Giving up handsome pay packages, comfort of family and support of friends wasn’t that easy,’’ says Tanmay Rajpurohit, the national president of the party and B Tech in aerospace from IIT Bombay followed by an MS from GeorgiaTech and double masters in arts.
“But my inner voice told me that I should invest my efforts in my country rather than making my pockets heavier,’’ said Ajit Ashwalayan Shukla, vice president of the party.
“People think we are crazy so much so that our families have also failed to understand our motto, but we won’t give up,’’ he added.
The core team of “Paritrana’ ’ comprises Rajpurohit , Shukla, Amit Beesen, also the vice president and a B Tech (Mechanical) from IIT Bombay and a LLB graduate, Chandrashekhar (national treasurer), B Tech (computer science) from IIT Kanpur, Bharat Sundaram, the PRO of the party and B Tech from IIT Kanpur and PhD in electronics from Melbourne.
“Paritrana means complete relief from the various causes of distress, and that is what we want to do for our people,’’ added Chandrashekhar. Low funds have not discouraged them in their efforts of holding door-to-door campaigns in Gujarat, Madhya Pradesh, Rajasthan and parts of Maharashtra.
“We strongly feel that the politicians of today are no longer the voice of the common man but instead they voice their own personal agendas through which they can fetch maximum votes,’’ said Shukla.
“We are not here for the power game. We are here to deal with the grassroots issues of each and every small village that we come across,’’ added Shukla.
The zeal and burning desire of the five youngsters sounds sincere. “I believe that we are just five ordinary boys from the middle class family with no godfathers in politics but have dared to come forward and fight for our rights,’’ said Chandrashekhar. “And we will succeed in it,’’ he added.
After the launch of the party at the Suchana Kendra in Jodhpur, the party members, as a part of their promotional campaign will tour Jodhpur, Udaipur, Ahmedabad, Mumbai, Pune, Bangalore and Chennai.

Only time will tell but if this piece of news is true then this is where my vote rests for the upcoming elections.

Jai Hind.
Also Visit http://economictimes.indiatimes.com/articleshow/msid-1384411,curpg-1.cms for reading the article.

Exorcising The Demon - Part II

------------------------------------------------

I have never been a great admirer of the (un)aesthetic beauty of the cubicle farm. A rectangular (at times, square) area, surrounded by partitions with an opening, which looks bigger from outside than it actually is. Development of camaraderie apart this is one place where the word privacy takes on a completely different meaning. The word cubicle which originally means a small room in which a monk or nun lives should no longer be called so. After all we need to preserve the sanctity and to a certain extent the dignity of the work done by these people who are certainly closer to the almighty than you or me (well in most cases they are). This is one topic which I will brood upon some other time (no reminders required). Now back to where we left off.

Crash, bang, clang…. I was spread-eagled on the floor. This of all the darned fool things that could have happened, was the one I had least expected or wanted. In my race against death (totally symbolic huh, would not be that amusing if you were in my present state), I had forgotten that the misanthropic imbecile who had done the networking on our floor had not properly concealed one particular clump of cables. I had always insisted (but obviously to no avail) that those cables were a disaster waiting to happen. I wish I had not made that statement. Since it was not a time to congratulate myself on having proved my theory to be right, I did a quick back-flip (ok not an elegant one) to assess the situation. I regretted it the very next instant.

The ever grinning angel of death had abandoned its pouncing posture and was ambling towards its hapless prey. With imminent death looming large, all I could do was lie motionless feeling completely drained. I don’t know if it was that swaggering walk of the skeleton or the effect of my long, but seemingly futile, attempt to escape that was taking its toll. “Do something. Just don’t lie there and let that thing take you.” screamed the hysterical voice. “Shut up”, I said “Give me some time. Let me think.”. “Time!!!” it was a harsh whisper this time, “that is exactly what you don’t have now. Do something and do it fast.”

Washing away my sins...........

This rivulet is called the Papanashini ( Destroyer of Sins for those uninitiated to the Sanskrit Language ). According to popular Hindu belief it is the 3 "dip" path to Moksha ( salvation ). It is widely believed that 3 dips are enough to wash away all your earthly sins ( I took 9 as a precaution ). It is also one of the sacred places where Hindus come to perform the last rites of their kith and kin. This rivulet flows down a hillock which makes the water refreshingly cool and clear. A must go for all you sinners out there. 

Foggy drop...

 

The temple we went to....

 

A lake in the midst of hills...

 

Vayanad !!! U must go there

 

The house where we stayed....

 

Exorcising the Demon - Part I

------------------------------------------------

I was out of breath by the time I reached the 88th step. It did not surprise me. It takes very little to knock the breath out of me. What surprised me was that I made it till here. I looked down from the 3rd floor, and heard the hollow,taunting laugh followed by the sickening tippity-tap sound of bone meeting the polished marble steps. It was still there, and gaining fast. Mortal fear reared it's desperate head once more. "Concentrate" it told me, " just a few more steps and then a dash to the desk". Tearing my eyes away from the cold gaze of death I bounded up the remaining 20 steps, ignoring the searing pain in my legs from running a whole kilometer, and climbing up those 88 steps which assumed humongous proportions with each step.

Finally, the third floor, another hundred meters or so to safety. I plucked up some courage and stole a glance back just in time to see the horrifying bag of bones and putrid flesh rounding up last fleet of stairs. Not wanting to contemplate on the consequences of not making it in time I looked away for one last time and sprinted down the corridor which wore a deserted look of foreboding. To my right the elevator doors opened and closed invitingly,with its lights flashing on and off in tune. Ignoring them I rounded the corner into the vast hallway. I was halfway there. The sick tapping increased in urgency and intensity, which meant that it was not far off. Not that I dared to look back now. Not now when I was almost there. At that very moment my desk came into view. Twenty meters more. I willed myself on. Driven by pure adrenaline and the vile breath of the creature on the nape of my neck I pushed myself on. 15, 10,5..... Almost there. I heard the hollow laugh once more, and looked back to see the demon crouched low like a hungry cat ready to pounce on its hapless prey. "Dont give up", the voice in my head was back, "You can't give up", it screamed at me. And then it happened......

Back after a bigger break....

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I have really lost track of how long it has been since I last wrote. Maybe I was afflicted by a severe case of blue . Anywayz back now and have resolved ( I have a steely resolve mind you ) to get back to my scribbling ways ( U should hear what the teachers back in school used to say about my handwriting )...

My sincere apologies to all those who used to check the blog.