Another Mortal Life

I couldn't have captured
in all its beauty
a thought this wonderful
with these imperfect words.

So I decide to set it free.

Another thought now captures me
that thoughts were ever free.
Through minds they wander,
Through poems they express.

And I say- 'let it be.'

May a better man some day pen
in all its beauty
that thought that wonderful
in words near-perfect.

1. "Ah come on, Adrian, it's true. I was nobody. But that don't matter either, you know? 'Cause I was thinkin', it really don't matter if I lose this fight. It really don't matter if this guy opens my head, either. 'Cause all I wanna do is go the distance. Nobody's ever gone the distance with Creed, and if I can go that distance, you see, and that bell rings and I'm still standin', I'm gonna know for the first time in my life, see, that I weren't just another bum from the neighborhood." -Rocky

2. "My Mama always said, 'Life was like a box of chocolates; you never know what you're gonna get.'"- Forrest Gump

3. "If you had to do it all over again, would you make the same choices?"
"What choice? The last thing I took away from the yeshiva is this.. 'We can't run from who we are. Our destiny chooses us.'" -Rounders

4. "It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something."
"What are we holding onto, Sam?"
"That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo... and it's worth fighting for."
-The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers

5. "I guess I could be pretty pissed off about what happened to me... but it's hard to stay mad, when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst... And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain and I can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life... You have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm sure. But don't worry... you will someday." -American Beauty

6. "I have a very pessimistic view of life. You should know this about me if we're gonna go out. You know, I - I feel that life is - is divided up into the horrible and the miserable. Those are the two categories, you know. The - the horrible would be like, um, I don't know, terminal cases, you know, and blind people, crippled. I don't know how they get through life. It's amazing to me. You know, and the miserable is everyone else. That's - that's - so - so - when you go through life - you should be thankful that you're miserable because you're very lucky to be miserable." -Annie Hall

7. "Remember Red, hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies." -The Shawshank Redemption

8. "So in the end, was it worth it? Jesus Christ. How irreparably changed my life has become. It's always the last day of summer and I've been left out in the cold with no door to get back in. I'll grant you I've had more than my share of poignant moments. Life passes most people by while they're making grand plans for it. Throughout my lifetime, I've left pieces of my heart here and there. And now, there's almost not enough to stay alive. But I force a smile, knowing that my ambition far exceeded my talent. There are no more white horses or pretty ladies at my door."- Blow

9. "I'm not asking you to forgive me. I'll never understand or forgive myself. And if a bullet gets me, so help me, I'll laugh at myself for being an idiot. There's one thing I do know... and that is that I love you, Scarlett. In spite of you and me and the whole silly world going to pieces around us, I love you. Because we're alike. Bad lots, both of us. Selfish and shrewd. But able to look things in the eyes as we call them by their right names." -Gone with the Wind

10. "I'm 32, Mr. Dunn, and I'm here celebrating the fact that I spent another year scraping dishes and waitressing which is what I've been doing since 13, and according to you, I'll be 37 before I can even throw a decent punch, which I have to admit, after working on this speed bag for a month, may be the God's simple truth. Other truth is, my brother's in prison, my sister cheats on welfare by pretending one of her babies is still alive, my daddy's dead, and my momma weighs 312lbs. If I was thinking straight, I'd go back home, find a used trailer, buy a deep fryer and some oreos. Problem is, this the only thing I ever felt good doing. If I'm too old for this, then I got nothing. That enough truth to suit you? " -Million Dollar Baby.

***

Yesterday I undertook the biggest ever cleaning up of my room...

1) Found some 3 handkerchiefs, 2 undershirts, 3 pairs of socks, 3 pens, and much more. It saves me quite a few bucks you see!

2) Whoever told me the spider's web around the tube-light was shit is an ass. It was a real good mosquito trap. I was doing good without any all-out and blah for months, and today I had to buy a refill!

3) Dumped dozens of old notebooks glancing through the last few pages of each of them.
Here is what I was scribbling on the last page of a notebook after a prof lost his temper on the class and walked out..

Chaos prevails
Tragedy unravels
For the proxies unowned
Professor hails
everybody present as guilty.
Knowing none I
as a silent spectator see
the contest between
fear of fifty
and pride of one.

It's no poetry, I know, but reading it brought a certain time of college life alive. So it's good in some way.

4) Found this thing written on an old, little piece of paper..
"Why you, Arthur (Ashe), why you?"
"When I won Wimbledon, I didn't say "God, why me?".. so I shouldn't ask that about the bad things too."

And this song.. it made my day when I first heard it. It did the same again.."Kii poochde ho haal fakiraa.n da.... Asi nadiya vichhde neera.n da".

5) And there was this she'r I once wrote while traveling..
"Tere bas mein bhi yahaan kuchh nazar nahii aata
E khuda, tu to bas meri bebasi ka bahaana bhar hai"

And here is another addition to classroom compositions..
"On my silly jokes you laugh aloud
On the sillier ones too you smile
And your disgust on the silliest ones
You've always tried to hide.
Putting my ego aside now when I see
Must say, girl, you' been good to me."

Take my word- fuck computers, and make your notes with pen and paper. And don't go back to them too often.
***

And, HAPPY DIWALI!! :)

Jiya huun main kaise, poochh, tere bin in dino
-Tanhaai se jo mera rishta hai, hai zindagii.
Khuli zulfo.n pe teri fida kyun main ho baitha
-Hawaaon se jo mera shikwa hai, hai zindagii.

Well, the tag is Back!! Woaah :D

1. "Come on, say it"
Keh doon tumhe ya chup rahoon
-Dil mein mere aaj kya hai..

2. "Oh my god! I've lost my laundry bill!"
Mere hostel ki washing machine
mein kapde daalna is a tricky thing
It's much like investment banking
Pichhle saat dino mein maine
do shirts, ek T-shirt khoya
Phir Lenin ki jai boli aur
Haatho se kapdon ko dhoya.

3. "n bomb blasts rocked city-X today"
We didn't start the fire
It was always burning
Since the world's been turning
We didn't start the fire
No we didn't light it
But we're trying to fight it

4. "Vibhavsingh"
Na ye Frost na Forster na kisi Parkati ka love
Ye to hai yaaron apna seedha saada Vibhav
:P

5. "Relax"
Fatela jeb sil jaayega
Jo chahega mil jaayega..

6. "Hope is a good thing.. maybe the best of things ... blah blah"
You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one

7. "The tiny-whiny corner of your heart"
'Dil ki khata bhi hai kya
Mujhko pata bhi hai kya..'

'Dil ki yahi khata hai
Dil ko nahi pata hai..'

8. "It happened to me.."
Well, she was just seventeen
-You know what I mean,
And the way she looked was way beyond compare.
... well, my heart went boom
when I crossed that room..

9. "Missing you"
Why'd she have to go..
I don't know, she wouldn't say
I said something wrong
Now I long for yesterday..

10. "Together always ... in ups and downs"
Yun hi kat jayega safar saath chalne se
ke manzil aayegi nazar saath chalne se.

I’ve just gulped 400 ml of a cold drink, and I’m the subject of the experiment of the night: Whether a cold drink can cure a mild cold. A friend has often argued it does. Now, whatever be the result of the experiment, I don’t lose anything. If it cures, thank you dear Mr. Gh; if it doesn’t, I get to really love my voice for some days, after such a long time!

***

Until a while back I used to think of myself as some weird eccentric individual. Maybe, I was. These days I think I can reason my actions better. The intense guilt feeling that often used to get to me after every little misdemeanor has ceased to frequent my brain that often. What is more likely is that I have chosen to go for better-thought-out actions. Still, I’ve this feeling that my actions wrt to people have never been as absurd as I thought they were, excepting a few.

***

By now, you know I don’t have much to write about these days. My college life is, kind of, over. The little crushes I used to devote a poem or two to, are, kind of, over. A job I, kind of, already have.

In short, I’m a young man in the first half of his twenties, who has got a life that has become, suddenly, freaking dull.

And I liked ‘Rock on’.

***

Bollywood movies have suddenly started to impress me. After Summer 2007 and Jaane tu earlier this summer, now we’ve Mumbai Meri Jaan, Rock On, and A Wednesday. While the old chaps from the old production houses continue to dish out the same old crap, these low budget movies are a breeze of fresh air.

And the producer-director-actor-singer Farhan Akhtar is the best thing that happened to Indian Film industry in a long time.

***

It’s half an hour since I had the cold drink, and to my great surprise, I’m feeling better. But how do I make my voice husky now? There must be a way.

***

Female friends, no matter how good friends I think they are with me, I shouldn’t treat them like my guy friends. At the end of the day, they’ve got a brain that functions differently.

Now this thing, that they’ve got a brain that functions differently, is something that we take due care of while talking to women we’re interested in, in that way. Why do I forget it with friends then?

In future, I’ll keep it in mind.

***

It’s strange when you’ve strangers asking you, “Vikram ka room kaunsa hai?” or “Have you seen Vikram today?” Oh. It’s strange only when your own name is Vikram too. Pardon my silliness. Speaking of which, you know how silly I am? You’ll have an idea if I tell you I consider the following lines a good, silly, joke:

..

Person 1: “How do you justify your silly jokes?”

Person 2: “By proper spaces and margins.”

..

Anyway, I’m gonna put a sticker on the door of my room with my Full name written on it. Maybe, I should write the other guy’s room number too. With an arrow.

***

One thing that makes me really dislike a person is his inability to recognize that the joke he just told was a poor one. And I’ve known only one person in my life so far who fails to recognize this, goes on further to explain the joke, and might even ask you to find it funny.

Really, PJs are not such a bad thing in themselves. (I just delivered one of my own a couple of paragraphs above.) But please don't explain them or ask me whether I found them funny! You may just ask something like, 'Ain't that a good PJ?' I think I should be able to find a mutually satisfying answer to such a question.

This reminds me of another thing, but I guess it’s enough for today.

***

Good night!

Source.

"You know what.. Actions that make you feel you're more man seldom make you feel you're a better man."- said my Chemistry teacher once. He must have loved all those art movies where men with wrinkled faces and not much of life left in them used to try to talk some sense into younger generations. That one sentence, however, had an impact on me. I mean, how many teachers you happen to meet in life who give you interesting philosophical lines when you infuriate them! (Believe me, I started devising ways to make him say such lines more often! :P)

Hope you're doing good, sir!

The thing with freaks is.. everything can freak them out, but few do.

... (with due apologies to Rudyard Kipling)


If you can think,
But can postpone thinking indefinitely,
and yet, can pretend to think,
and can make others believe you're thinking..

If you feel sleepy a whole night,
but can reserve your sleep for the lectures next morning,
and can criticize the prof. afterwards,
for his outdated methodology of teaching..

If you can go to the reading room
with a determination none ever had,
and return next morning after attending the first lecture
sitting beside the same person you passed the night looking at..

If you can trust your ability,
only by recalling the rank you got in an entrance exam,
Even if there is nothing on your grade card,
except the 'SRC advice' you must follow as a command..

If you can bear to hear that you got an E in a course,
and can go to PVR or Chanakya the same day
(After all, this grade has given you
a valid reason to tell your parents for summer stay..)

If you can escape bathing *ahem*
for not less than a week,
and can admit this with pride enough,
and yet, can maintain an image of someone nice and clean.

If you can write articles on brain drain in this magazine
in your first and second years,
And try your best for abroad
probably after another two years.

If you read this text with disgust
but in front of me, can praise it
and yet, can speak to the editor
asking him the reason to include it..

You are an IITian, monsignor,
by the core of your heart..
You have got the qualifications
any recruiter would find hard to discard.

[Wrote it in first year for the institute magazine, a copy of which I've come across in a pile of old notebooks today.]

A very long time ago
love sank into my pillow.
A little part of this potion
gets into my head often.

But every time before today
the rest of it pulled it back
(This was the only good thing
about the good old rack.)

But today,
I'm overwhelmed.

S***
F***
J****
Stop. Stop.

How long would I
keep writing poems
out of thin air?
(keep writing poems)
out of thin air?
(keep writing poems)
out of thin air?

How long would I
keep writing poems
out of thin air?
(keep writing poems)
out of thin air?
(keep writing poems)
out of thin air?

I'm not a weed, you know?!
You need not recognize it though.
I'll simply enjoy the fact that
I have now convinced the hoe.

.........................................................................................

Tell me where can I get some Faith from..

Any of these will do:
1. Faith in myself
2. Faith in god
3. Faith in a select others


Suggest me the bests in the town who deal in it. I would like to invite quotations for all three of these.

[Or do these things come in different specifications? Do let me know.]

That I don't have a future
worries me once in a while.

That I don't have a present
terrifies me sometimes.

But, that I don't have a past
gives me nightmares.
And very often.



Edit. Edit.
The Other Dimension

I don't have a present..
it frustrates me sometimes.

Also, I don't have a past..
I don't even have a past!
Kya yaar..

:P :P


P.S.: I hate this sexist society.
P.P.S.: I hate the sexist definition of the word 'sexist'. Usually, it won't convey what I meant by the above line! :P

Some of my posts that never saw the light of your computer screen, and some that saw it only once or twice, had something strange yet interesting about them, for me at least. The only thing they lacked was the exact picture of my mood while writing them. The unhappy, annoyed tone of most of them was so overwhelming that the idea of the writer having enjoyed writing them seemed to be quite far-fetched.

But no, I've liked writing all of them. Maybe most often they don't appear so but they've been the best form of indulgence writing has ever offered me.

So , after a satisfying day of work, when I've nothing to do while waiting for a bus, I compose words like.. "I'm now pretty much sure.. that my life is a whore.." I hum them sitting alone at a bus stop, and I love it. But when I post them on this blog.. you say- "Oh! This guy freaked out yet again!". No ladies and gentlemen, No. I'm happier with my life than even the best of my posts could ever suggest.

I was reading some of the old unpublished (or published-then-removed) drafts today. And I came across many lines that I found interesting.. unfortunately, these are the same lines that made those posts seemingly unsuitable for a public blog. The idea that there are others apart from all you Ts, Vs, Cs, Ds, Ns, and the vowels, who read my blog, is quite a discomfort for me. If only I knew who all read it totally anonymously, I wouldn't have to drop many posts half way.

I'm writing this because I haven't written a post like this for months now. Not that I was good at writing a coherent paragraph anyway, but I used to manage to scribble at least something. But during this long dry spell, I think I have developed an inexplicable fear against writing with coherence, flow. These days I seem to dread writing in a fashion where a certain thought would wander through my mind like a free flowing river, and would pick up certain tributary thoughts in the process, while letting certain other distributaries die out naturally. Of course, even in the good old days, this river towards its end never used to remain the same as it used to be at the start.. but it was fun writing along that chain of thoughts then. All my digressions had a certain coherence I loved.

This new found fear has brought me into thinking I shouldn't write poems on the ghazal pattern. (No, I won't stop, but..) Those unconnected couplets, I think, contribute in disturbing the coherence of my digressions. I mean you write a couplet by connecting a thought X to a thought Y, through some weird logic. Then suddenly you drop them, and you try to connect A to B, through another weird logic. Then L to M, then P to Q. Then you shout, wow, it sounds good. But next time when you sit down to write more than two sentences (prose) on some particular thing, you find yourself in a lose-lose situation.. You have a string of thoughts.. XALP.. that itself doesn't make much sense.. and then adding to your woes is the fact that you also can't resist thinking (and writing) about all the YBMQs that come to your mind. All this, while you want to write something about X only.

Trust me, it happens to me everyday. My mind is a pleasant mess. It finds itself finding fault with everything.. and at the same time it finds itself looking for something it can laugh about, in everything. And it manages that, almost always. It's quite weird though. It's like you are standing by the side of the polluted Yamuna, covering your mouth with a hankerchief, and next moment you end up comparing those pollutants with the chillies the dhabe-waalah puts in the otherwise delicious noodles. Your friend would laugh at you, and you would say.. but I hate chillies as much, yaar! You're right. He's right too, in thinking you're a big time uchhaaloo!

I think I can still continue on that. Having some good tributaries and ditributaries to your central thought is just like having well-prepared noodles. I want my thoughts to be long.. they should neither stick with one another, nor should they be reduced to tiny little pieces my fork can't hold. How much of the thought noodles are to be gulped in one turn should be my choice, it should not depend on external factors. Moreover these noodles shouldn't have excess of chillies. Putting those green mosters at an edge of the plate consumes a lot of my time.

Thank you for bearing with me.

Gham-e-ishq yun sataata hai, ki hadd hai!
Koi har waqt nazar aata hai, ki hadd hai!

Hum naa likkhen jo haal-e-dil to bataayein kaise
Likh dete hain to kisiko guroor aata hai, ki hadd hai.

Jhagad baithe the jinse ladakpan mein kabhi
Shabaab unpar yun chadha jaata hai, ki hadd hai.

Ke ishq hoga to ghazal kya mast likhenge hum
Kya socha tha kya hua jaata hai, ki hadd hai.

Chandni would like us to reveal 10 secrets/facts about ourselves hitherto not discussed on this blog..

1. I like tomboys. My second crush was perhaps the most tomboyish of all the girls in my school then. Though my preferences have matured (as has she :P), I still find it quite easy to interact with tomboys.
2. I happen to catch something I call 'Love at Last Sight' syndrome quite frequently.
3. I'm left-handed. Writing and eating are perhaps the only tasks I do with my right hand. This mix of natural left-handedness and acquired right-handedness lands me into weird situations sometimes. E.g. even extending a hand for a hand-shake requires me to think first!
(First time I realized the world was a conspiracy theory was when I tried to hold a pair of right-handed scissors.)
4. I need a constant change. I'd switch from one movie to another, then would come back to first, then would check mail/orkut/blog and after that would finish the second movie.. and this is only the most simplified version of it.
5. My hairline is receding. It's nightmarish. The easiest solution I find for it is to get the hair trimmed as soon as it's 3 mm. Thank God, men have got easy lives.
6. I'm quite short, quite thin, quite weak, quite masochistic, and I generally prefer to keep quiet about all these.
7. I'd prefer a hot coffee to a cold one, even on the hottest day in summers. And I like it slow. It happens sometimes that I get a coffee from insti nescafe, and reach my hostel with a part of it still remaining.
8. This was quite real. Well, most of it was.
9. I like to play songs that people around me don't like. The volume is proportionate to the possible dislike. When I listen to the songs everybody likes, I prefer a low volume.
10. One thing the hostel mess has taught me is 'everything eatable is welcome'. Now that makes my life difficult when placing an order at a restaurant. "Kuchh bhi mangaa lo" is what I tell the ones accompanying me, but if they get insistent I'd prefer something I haven't heard of in the mess for a long time. I mean, I won't ask for anything whose crappier version is fresh in my memory.
[Sometimes, at home, Mom asks which of the food items she prepared was better relatively. How do I tell her that the food I get in the mess has brought my taste-recognition range to such low levels that I can't distinguish between things 5, 10 or 100 times better! ]

PHEW!

1. “Happiness is within.”
Maine dil se kahaa.. dhundh laana khushi..

2. “Wine, Women, and Song”
Thoda daru vich pyar mila de.. nashe diye band botlei.

3. “Rage against the life”:
Tang aa chuke hain kashmakash-e-zindagii se hum..

4. “Pen, paper and piles of trash.”
Pyar ka pehla khat likhne mein waqt to lagta hai..

5. “Far from the madding crowds”
Agar tum mil jaao.. zamaana chhod denge hum

6. “To-do list.”
Kuchh aisa jahaan hum banaayen..

7.“May the will to live never die.”
Jawaan ho yaaron.. ye tumko hua kya!

8. “She came. She knocked. I said “Shit!””
Kya karein kya naa karen ye kaisi mushkil hai..

9. "Actions. Not words.”
Hum labon se keh naa paaye unse haal-e-dil kabhi..

10. "Screw it."
Hai apna dil to awara na jaane kiskis pe aayega..


I tag..

Akshay
Chandni
Chetan
Divesh
Phoenix
Realistic me....
Tapasya
Vartika
vibhav


[Pick 5 phrases from the above list. Write another 5 yourself. Take a break. Then, try to relate each of them to some songs you like (or lines from the middle of such songs) ]

राह-ए-मंजिल पे मेरा हौसला देखकर हैरां ना होना ए दोस्त,
सीखा है बहुत कुछ मैंने आवारगी को मज़हब की तरह जीकर।

लब मुस्कुराए थे मेरे मगर आँखें छलक उठीं थीं
बड़ी कशमकश में था शायद खुदा कल रात।

There is a certain kind of poetry that requires you to have an ultimate hold on the vocabulary of a language.

Sample this..

"Nasha teri aankhon se seekha..
Aawaargi teri zulfon se.
If only I had learnt from your heels
How to walk a thin line..
Gir naa padta main itna joron se."


This shows how frustrating it can be to move ahead of the first two lines if words are not readily available in the database of your brain. But in a way, it's good. It represents head over heels kinda feeling symbolically(:P), and that's the epitome of the feeling. So I guess it will do for the time being. Meanwhile I'm on lookout for words I can use to speak, gentlemanly enough, about everything between the head and the heels too. You know, I can't afford to fall down so much in one single step.

Or, in one single post, for that matter. :P

"You suck at humor, you know.."
"Interesting.."
"That doesn't help, you really do."
"Well, to think of it, it ain't that bad a thing to suck at, you know ;)"
"What?"
"I mean academics in school were such non-sense thing.. how could anybody (like you) suck at them!"
"Now you see.. you're pissed.. I know you can't take it!"
"Pissed?! I just mean humor is such a wonderful thing even to suck at! Ain't it my sportsmanship?"
*no reply for 30 sec.*
"You're impossible! *pause* Btw, you meant only acads?"
"Yes."
"I thought you meant more ;)"
"Like...?"
"That's why I say you suck at humor!"
"Even at my own humor? Impossible, I must say! :P"
".................."
".................................."
.
.
"................................................."
"............."
.
.
"To each his own. Peace."

Yun to rakh sakta hoon shikwe main bahut magar-
Aasaa.n nahi khafa rehna, is jahaa.n khoobsoorati bhare mein

Kabhi laga ik pal mein maine dekhi saari kaarigari khuda ki
Dil kah utha mera- bhar aur na khushi mujh gubbaare mein

Leta hun sukoo.n ki saansen, jaane deta hun jaate lamhon ko
Bah jaate hain jaise baarish, karta hun unka shukriya main

Jaanta hoon ki tum aaj nahiin jaante meri baaton ka sabab
Jaan jaaoge tum bhi ek din zindagi ke safar mein.


[It is almost a translation of a movie dialogue. I really enjoyed this exercise.]

P.S.: If these lines make you feel you've heard them before, try digging up the name of the movie! Should be fun. I'll update this post with the original lines soon.


P.P.S.: The original lines (from 'American Beauty'):

I guess I could be pretty pissed off about what happened to me... but it's hard to stay mad, when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst...
And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain and I can't feel anything but gratitude.. for every single moment.. of my stupid little life...
You have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm sure. But don't worry... you will someday.

.. I'm rather comfortable with the stones I deserve. A masochist as I'm slowly turning into, I sometimes tend to even enjoy them. But whenever I try to come across as someone who appreciates the reasons for all these stones, people just get very liberal with the stoning. The thing is, when you cross the limits, the others might cross them too. Now, where is my bucket of stones?

.. You tell me that you think God exists. I say 'Ok!'. Then you tell me that this feeling has worked wonders for you. I say, 'Great! Happy for you!'. Then you tell me that this proves God exists. Are we kidding? No, seriously..are we?

.. Sometimes, it gets really difficult to get your point across. Sometimes even a simple smile can characterize you as a smart mouth. The worst thing you can offer to a person confused about your intentions is a misplaced smile.

Silly. This won't matter an iota in my life, but I really want to remember this moment. This 11:35 pm.

And nothing happened. I haven't stumbled upon some great song/article/news. Nor have I had any conversation in the last one hour. Nor has anybody descended from heaven or hell to cure or aggravate my problems.

Nothing, happened.


Update (the next day)
Physiologically, some muscles broke.
Cortically, some shock was registered.
Psychologically, some circles shrank.
Nonetheless, some stress was released.

Fact File:

"Got to spend one more semester here."

Reason 1: A semester withdrawal in first year.
Reason 2: Messing up with the only first-year course that was still left, in this semester. Bunked quizzes. Virtually zero studies.
Reason 3: An attendance F in an RDL course this semester.

If there wasn't the Reason 2, I'd have been the usual whiner you know me as. But now I can't even whine! Such is life.

I shouldn't have tried for a seven semester degree. That was too much burden for my meagre academic abilities (and interests). Could've had a chill-pill right from the first year. Everybody spends eight sems after all.

Read this on Phoenix's blog some time back:
"In the end, life is not a war that you have to win. Life is just this moment, this one-fist-joy, one-fist-sorrow, this flickering hope, this affectionate pain, this paradox. They say sometimes winning is the only thing. I would like to disagree...it never ever is everything. And thank God for that. I maybe a loser, but I have what really matters and what I really need, at the end of it all. It feels great. Thanks."

I liked these lines but I didn't know what was it that I liked about that post as a whole. Now I think it's not just about a written piece, it's also about how the reader interprets it for himself. (BTW, these lines gave me a feeling of deja vu that day, and so I googled like crazy and I didn't spare any 'memorable quotes' page on IMDb. All in vain though :P )

Another line that has been coming back to my mind often these days is from the old pages of my own blog:
"My worst fears never come true. Never ever. Must thank God for that."

As much as I kept quiet, I wanted to be a poet.

Chetan and I have started a new poetry blog. Looking forward to see you there.

IIM C awaits me with open arms. But I'm entangled in a lousy love affair with IITD that won't end anytime soon.

Song of the day: Mad World.
... And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had.

In this city, though lights seldom go off,
At least not all at once,
Moonless nights here are just as scary
As they are in the hinterlands.
Or perhaps even more.

In this city, where lights seldom go off,
Shadows seldom leave you.
When white light pierces you, it makes one.
When yellow light pierces you, it makes another.
... Shadow of your own self.

In this city, where lights outnumber people,
You are one, shadows are many.
You feel happy that while lights are fixed,
You are free, you've a choice.
To move, to decide.
But didn't you ever think
that you are just a point where your shadows meet?
Dark shadows, faint shadows.
Small shadows, long shadows.
Don't you think lights decide more than you do?

Try to shorten one of your shadows, the others get longer.
Try to walk upon one, it itself gets longer.
Now think of doing away with all of them,
And you are about to dive into the blaze.
Lights. know. how to play with you.

Give me on Your canvass, some harder brushstrokes
Not this easily, O Lord, will I disappear against life!
...

Chala aur jor se, ai khuda, humpe apni koochiyaa.n
Yun aasaani se na hum feeke dikhenge zindagi se!
...

Some unfounded, some justifiable-
Too many grudges I bear against life.

Some apparent, some unconscious-
Many illusions I hold dear, against life.

At times crazy, at times a loser-
Too many times I appear against life.

I swear at God, I swear at the world-
Too many times I swear against life.

Some alcohol, some mental turmoil-
In too many ways I prepare against life.

No more can I fake it, nobody would take it
So everything I spill here against life.

O world! Come and see for yourself
Devoid of a choice, how I shear against life.

"Vanity is as ill at ease under indifference as tenderness is under a love which it cannot return."

- George Eliot

Wo aaye to khwab hi mein magar..
Haqeeqat badal gaye.

Nazar aaye pahle se bahut khoob,
Husn-o-rangat badal gaye!

Mujhe dekh kar, kar gaye nazar-andaaz..
Behad badal gaye.

Duyina-o- dil-e-Vikram ki
Haalat badal gaye.

Kisi ne kaha humein beytuka, kisi ne kaha saudaaii..
To ek mubassir nazar humne bhi daali zindagii par.
Thoda hua rashq to thoda aaya raham bhi, ke..
Humpe jo nahin chadhta nasha, chadhta hai isii par.

***

saudaaii = crazy, mubassir nazar = observer's eye, rashq = envy.

It's 5 am again, but today I feel I should sleep,
But (yesterday's) promises to you I shall keep.
-Now this line I copied from Vibhav's blog
I acknowledge it every time I do it, kyun bhaai log?
Though this doesn't allow me an out-of-context use,
It's fair enough, a fair literary misuse.
Fairer than How Opal Mehta Got Kissed[2],
At least, I leave no reason for anybody to be pissed.

So, "I'm back, doing what I do best.."
-Oh, that's from 'Lord of War' I confess
Anyway, I'm back doing what I do best
Whine, ramble, gabble, burble, blurt.
I don't know on what rules the world of today runs
I find it so difficult to even talk to that one woman,
In a world where once a Butler could get away with This-
"Did you ever think of marrying- just for the fun of it?"[3]

............................................

[1] This is half of what I had written on the next day of the previous post. I didn't publish because the other half didn't look like something I would want to publish. Today I thought that not all of it deserved to die the death of a draft.
[2] I haven't read that book. It was in news for some 'allegedly' plagiarized content.
[3] No offense meant to the fellow blogger(s) who adore(s) That Character from 'Gone With the Wind'. :P [4]
[4] Do I have to acknowledge everything? Even the inspiration for footnoting.. ? [5]
[5] Even the inspiration for footnoting within a footnote.. ? Ok, it's Drenched's blog.

Subah ke hain yaaron 'paanch' baje
Karoon kya mujhe kuchh na soojhe
Neend to khair pahle bhi mujhe kab aati thi
teen baje kkp ke bhajanon ki jo dhun aati thi
Main good night bolta tha vo good morning
Bhajan bhi aise jaise hon mourning.
Par phir bhi mein so leta tha.
Kisi ke khyalon mein kho leta tha.
(Oh, ye wala sentence bas rhyming ke liye tha)

Aaj hua jaane kya
Neend ka nahin naamo-nishaan
Aur na yahoo na gTalk pe koi
Kya bhala saari duniya soi..
Na koi blogging ke liye idea mila
Orkut bhi pahle waala na raha..
Uski pics bhi accessible nahin
Duniya mein nyaY bacha hi nahin.
(There's no justice left in the world.)

Kuchh barking kuchh cawing suni beech beech mein
Psycho padosi (the non-kkp one) bhi dikha ghoomta neend mein
Ab bombay jaayega to jayega Maximum City jaroor padhkar
aur haan, aajkal khush hai khud ko psychic samajhkar
Aur uske saamne ke room wale ki life se hai movies ke alaawa sab gone
(Fearing a defamation suit,
the observation that rhymed with the above is withdrawn.)
Aur ek gaya tha lab mein aaj aadhi raat ko
Padhai ka bukhar chadhaa kayi saal baad, Yo!
(Bakiyon ke baare mein kal baat karenge, ok! Good morning/night.)

चंद लफ्जों की है दास्ताने-दिल
लिखें क्या कोई किताब इस पर!
कुछ खताएं हमने कीं, और,
कोई खफा रहा हमसे ज़िंदगी भर।

You jumped off one of the gates of your college in a careless manner on the day of Holi. You ignored the strain it caused in your hand and shoulder for good 20 days. You insisted on not going to Sickbay for such a minor pain. Meanwhile you also carelessly crossed deadlines of many term papers, book reviews, assignments, presentations etc. After the 'good' 20 days, the pain started to worsen. Then in a 'Numb' sorta style you decided to literally sweep somebody off his feet to relieve yourself of the pain! Now you've a BTP looming large on your head, along with all the aforementioned assignments.. And one of your hands almost refuses to type! Boy, you've a soft tissue injury!

Yours truly ain't careless, he's absolutely careless.

Walked a not-so-lonely South Delhi road yesterday night with a can of beer in my hand, and a couple of friends by my side.. Yeah, I graduated[1]. It was in people's eyes. I need no certificate from IIT any longer.

"Man we were killin' time
We were young and restless
We needed to unwind
I guess nothin' can last forever.."
(Summer of '69)

Teachers at school used to insist on discipline. The professional life after college would've too many obligations. I've been a puppet, I'll be a puppet. But right now are the days of MY life, and that is so fucking best about them.



[1] It's still some time before I graduate 'academically'. Currently I'm contemplating graduating in other spheres of life. ;)

..I didn't know it then, but now I can say, the worst you can miss anybody is to miss someone who is very much around.

.. Your first F-grade is much like your first fk- It breaks a certain barrier between a resistance and a routine.

.. I moved out of the room, and started walking. The breeze was slow and cold- like the one that they say brings back memories. I had had enough of nostalgia already. I paced up. I wanted the wind to hit me like a storm, and not like the last of her words to me. But the wind, slow or momentous, was on her side. I stopped. "Enough!"- I shouted. It didn't echo.

Aankho.n ne dekhi hai nayi si ik duniya aaj.
Kal raat baarish mein dhula bahut kuchh..

खयालों को लफ्जों में पिरो पाते हैं मुश्किल से,
पर कहा जब भी तुमसे कुछ.. हमने सब कहा दिल से।

इस क़दर टुकड़ों में जिया है ज़िन्दगी तुझको..
एक हिस्सा तेरा खो जाए तो मुझ पर असर नहीं

My recent people experiments (all performed in situ), and also some events I had no control over, have lead me to a few interesting conclusions/realizations.

1. People who use smileys (in conversations of written sort) even when they start boiling up can be trusted to not explode. Apparently, smileys are a good way to let the steam out.

2. People know you more than you think they do. This seems to be the only explanation to the fact that this gorgeous lady whom I was sort-of ogling at one day, suddenly sprung on me with "You are Vikram, right?". God! She was from school!

3. Asking "What is so funny about it?" is one of the best things you can do when confronted with an irritating laugh, or a misplaced 'lol'. It really makes people discover their stupidity.

4. The idea of your best-friend-from-the-opposite-sex marrying is terrifying. Think of having to say something like "Sorry to bother you Mr. Xyz.. Can I talk to your wife?" Arghh.
(Ok, it's not that awkward. And obviously, you won't refer to her as his wife- she'll most probably still have a name. But what about the nick? "Hello Xyz, can I talk to Bak Bak? Meanwhile you can make her some coffee!")

5. To be able to tell people in a calm, articulate, and friendly manner that you didn't like something they said or did, is a talent.

6. Everybody can be fooled. We've a April-fool week currenty going on in our hostel. (So, in case you're a fellow hosteler, beware! But don't make others aware, please!)

7. One must not talk cryptic. Simple, to-the-point, non-accented, crisp words help.

8. The acceptable numbers of guys in an all-boys hang out are 1, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 and so on.

[There can be hundreds of poems/she'rs of Mir Taqi Mir much much better than the ones I'm posting here. I could only select from the ones I could undertand and appreciate with my limited urdu vocabulary. (Limitations are a vicious circle.)]

Phir bhii karate hai.n "Mir" saahib ishq
Hai.n javaa.n ikhtiyaar rakhate hai.n
.
Hosh jaataa nahii.n rahaa lekin
Jab Vo aataa hai tab nahii.n aataa
.
Ab to jaate hain butkade ai 'Mir',
Phir milenge agar khuda laaya.
.
Dil vo nagar nahii.n ke phir aabaad ho sake
Pachhataaoge suno ye bastii ujaa.D kar
.
Be-Khudii le gaii kahaa.n hum ko
Der se intezaar hai apanaa
.
Sakht kaafir thaa jisane pehle 'Mir'
mazahab-e-ishq ikhtiyaar kiyaa
(kaafir= infidel/non-believer, ikhtiyaar= to accept)
.
Naazukii us ke lab kii kyaa kahiye
Pa.nkha.Dii ik gulaab kii sii hai
.
Marg-e-Majnu.n pe aql ghum hai 'Mir',
Kya diwaane ne maut paai hai.
(marg= death)
.
Kahen kya jo puchhe koi hum se 'Mir',
Jahaan mein tum aae the kya kar chale.
.
Vo bazm me.n aaye itanaa to 'Mir' ne dekhaa
Usake baad chiraago.n me.n roshanii na rahii
.
Hum hue, tum hue, ki 'Mir' hue
us kii zulfo.n me.n sab asiir hue
(asiir= imprisoned)

.................................................................


Reekhta ke tumhi ustaad nahi ho 'Ghalib'
Kahtay hain agle zamanay mein koi Meer bhi tha.

[A Qawwali by Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. Repeat each line at least twice while reading- then only you'd get a feel of it. It'd be even better if you could support your voice with qawwali kinda clapping too. :P But the best idea would be to go Youtube!]

Sochta hun ki vo kitne maasoom the..
Kya se kya ho gaye dekhte dekhte;
Maine patthar se jinko banaaya sanam..
Vo khuda ho gaye dekhte dekhte.
.
.
Humse ye soch kar koi wada karo..
Ek waade pe umre guzar jayegi;
Ye hai duniya yahaan kitne ahal-e-wafa
Bewafaa ho gaye dekhte dekhte.
.
.
Gair ki baat tasleem kya kijiye
Ab to khud par bhi humko bharosa nahin;
Apna saaya samajhte the jinko kabhi
Vo juda ho gaye dekhte dekhte.

Pour yourself some bhang, click here, and listen to these songs:


Mele nu chal mere naal kude

Aj saare chhadd janjaal kude..
Mele nu chal mere naal kude
...................................................

Kali teri gut te paraanda tera laal ni
..................................................

Nikki jinni gal da khalaar paey gaya
Gallan gallan wich kal pyar paey gaya
...................................................

Akshay and Vibhav have tagged me. Chandni has not tagged me, because I didn't want to take up the tag she wanted me to take up but instead (I) insisted on taking up another tag which too I eventually didn't take up. And Pheonix this time actively controlled the tag, because, on a previous ocassion, her tag had passed itself on to me all by itself, thereby challenging Her authority. :P

So here it is. To Akshay, to Vibhav, and to the few drops of rain that fell on my palm at 6:59 pm yesterday evening:

Eight things I am passionate about:

-Bakaiti.
-Pulling people’s leg.
-Thinking about ‘WHY’s behind people.
-Writing she’rs. (writing a complete ghazal is too consuming.)
-Phrasing some funny one-liners.
-Sudden rains when no building is nearby.
-Walking barefoot on sand in winters.
-Finding maximum procrastination limits when put against strict deadlines.

Eight things I want to do before I die (In no particular order):

-Watch 150 movies from IMDb top 250.
-Write 50 good poems and get them published [Current count is only 5 :( ]
-Ensure a comfortable life for my parents and sister. (Obvious; so I hope nobody accuses me of plagiarism!)
-Meet E for one last time. And talk for hours no end.
-Travel. See world, as much as possible.
-Tell each and every of my good friends how much they matter in my life. (To not say it is classy, like all those movies tell us- ‘don’t ruin it’; but sadly, in real life people need to be told so as to know it.)
-Learn to play a musical instrument.
-Revive my interest in engineering, (that is if I don’t change my field of work.)

Eight things I say often:

-Chill maar!
-Shayad../Perhaps..
-Dekhte hain../ Let’s see..
-Kya baaat kar raha hai!?
-Sahi keh raha hai.
-Zindagi hai dost..
-Uda dete hain/ Let’s bunk!
-F***/S***

Eight books I’ve read recently:

-The Pearl
-Of Mice and Men
-The unnamable (short story)
-The Godfather
-Jane Eyre (dropped midway.)
-Jonathan Livingstone Seagull
-The Republic (reading..)
-A Farewell to arms (reading..)

Eight songs I could listen to, over and over:

-Wahan kaun hai tera, Sachin Dev Burman (Guide)
-O re maajhii, Sachin Dev Burman (Bandini)
-Top of the world, Carpenters
-Nothing compares 2 U, Sinead O’Connor
-Ik meri ankh kaashni, Surinder Kaur [In fact, every song on this list.]
-Ishqe di maar, Rani Randeep
-Tu kahin bhi rahe, Ghulam Ali
-Chhoti si ye duniya, Kishore Kumar
-Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan (When it comes to him, we needn't talk in terms of particular songs; the whole of his music is bliss.)

[So I've not exceeded the limit of 8! ;)]

Eight things that attract me to my best friends:

-Their barking/cawing/chattering (You didn’t understand, did you?)
-Soft-spokenness. (In case they don’t meet the first criteria, this one becomes absolutely necessary.)
-Respect for everyone. (Everybody respects his/her parents, teachers, friends. It’s how you behave with a random guy on street that shows the kind of man you are.)
-A sense of humor.
-Interest in poetry. (even mine! :P)
-Craziness. Eccentricity. Some amusing sort of it.
-A not-too-close friendship, if any, with the people I don’t like. (I admit I'm possessive. I’m a Scorpio.)
-Revelation that he/she is a good old friend of the girl I happened to like, say, yesterday.

Eight people I think should do this tag:

Most guys who used to be on my erstwhile list have either done this tag, or are tagged, or are not very likely to take it up! Oh, wait! Desperado might be willing..? Also, there are some who’ve recently blogrolled me- Disha, Rashmi and somebody-who’d-do-it-right-now [:P]. Then there is someone who has me in her blogroll of around 10 people but her blog is not even accessible to me! (I assume that being in such an exclusive list, I automatically deserve an invitation :P). I’ve also spotted two 3rd-yearites and one 2nd yearite reading my blog in CSC, on different occasions.

I’d like all of you to do this.

[A part of a poem by Rumi]

If anyone wants to know what "spirit" is,
or what "God’s fragrance" means,
lean your head toward him or her.
Keep your face there close.
Like this.

When someone quotes the old poetic image
about clouds gradually uncovering the moon,
slowly loosen knot by knot the strings
of your robe.
Like this.

If anyone wonders how Jesus raised the dead,
don’t try to explain the miracle.
Kiss me on the lips.
Like this. Like this.

[The title links to Desperado's blog, where you can read the complete poem.]

Maine phir se kuchh daastaanein likhi.n
Main phir se kuchh veerane dhoondhne chala..

***


Ye befikri ka aalam, ye inteha-e-aawargi
Kabhi kabhi khuda bhi mujhse jalta to hoga.

***

" *Some straight question* "

" *Some not-so-straight answer* "

And then the conversation follows like this.....

"Oh? Do we look like the kind of men who would take this shit?"

"Sir, when I come here next year, I'd have got my shit together. Then we'll see.*smiles*"

"Whhaatt?"

"Well.. I don't give a shit to it this time around."

Err..

पतझड़ के पत्तों सी हाय लाल-पीली तू,
ज़न्नत सी ज़िंदगानी में एक खलबली तू।

दिखी हर शक्ल में इन दिनों घुली-मिली तू,
इच्छाधारी नागिन जीवन में बस एक मिली तू।

थोड़ा तुझमें गुरुर था, थोड़ी मुझ में सनक,
मैं बुरा हूँ ये माना, पर है कहाँ भली तू।

राहें चाहे अपनी टकराएँ न फिर कभी,
रहे सदा यूं ही यारां खिली-खिली तू।
:)

I never believed in astrology. I still don't. But, to stick to my stand I'll now have to gather some evidence claiming that this article was written specially about me, by somebody knowing me pretty well!!

Or else, I should start believing in all this. In fact, this should be good for me too. This would mean a twelfth of the world is like me. In other words (?), I'm no different than a twelfth of the mankind. This would then allow me to be an insouciant common man.

[Some day I'd write a post on the title of my blog and its description.]

Let me start with admitting that temptations have always been difficult for me to resist. And that, while I'm caught up in one, no good advice seems to register on my eardrums or retina - Not even those big hoardings of what-not they put in front of hospitals.

This one was building up for quite some time. On every occasion when I got my chance to go for it, (and I must admit that the frequency of such chances has hit an all time low in recent times), I have thought of going for it that way. That such preference for a particular way might even force you to stop the activity altogether, seems to be the only reason I've continued with the general ways of the public in these times- the safe, protected ways.

The thing with hitting an all-time low is that your tendencies to experiment come under severe check. Even the fact that you've done it this way before too doesn't help much. Those big hoardings of what-not go against you. Popular opinion goes against you. And when you're no longer a regular at it, you must obviously agree that others know better. Everything tells you there are set ways of going about things; temptations be damned.

But temptation, like most human feelings, intensify in deprivation. When you are on an all time low, when you've stopped keeping that rubbery thing at your ready disposal (though there are people around who do have them and they do spare one for you when requested, it doesn't feel good that way), and then when you get the chance, you're intensely tempted to go for it that way.

Let me now tell you that I went for it that way, today. It was not like I didn't have access to those protective measures; I had one. And I started with it, like all these months. But you'd agree that things are not even half the fun under constraints. And then, this thing failed me in the middle of it. I wanted more. I put on the shower, cold water shower. Those hoardings of what to do and what not to do after two weeks of cough, the buckets, the constraints, all be damned.

I enjoyed it after a long long time.

I'm the poem dumped.

How it all started haunts me like a mystery.
Look! Compare! He was so ordinary.
He claimed he made me! Oh shit!
We evolved together is all I can admit.

I remember the time when the first of my words was born
He stared at it for hours on and on
Unsatisfied, he decided to strike it off
Like it was the infected seed of his paddy crop.

And then there were more like the first.
Some were fortunate to make it to paper,
While others were aborted right at inception.
He called them children of lesser thoughts.

My incomplete existence wanted him to be kinder to them.
But he told me I had no right, I had no choice.
I was only a voice, said he, I was 'his' voice.
And it was immoral for voices to speak for themselves.



(I didn't have this thing in mind when I started it, but by the fourth paragraph it occurred to me that it can be written as an expression of the helplessness that women of the older times, and sometimes even in present times, must've felt against a forced abortion/infanticide. I could not continue the poem further, mainly because I thought that while talking of a sensitive issue, unclear statements should be avoided- which is something my poems fail miserably at. I was also not able to think along the lines of the original idea I started the poem with.

I will remember this incomplete, dumped poem; which, when started, wasn't really meant to be dropped midway.)

Even before I start, you can already guess the problem with my BTP- it is yet to get the priority it deserves. Memories of the only day I spent some time on it consist more of lavish(?) visuals from Lodhi Garden than any academic work. And then, not before the day of presentations did I start working on the report. I had to borrow time from almost every other activity. While a bath was out of question, I even dumped the idea of a shave on seeing a friend who had a beard at least 2 mm longer than mine and who was going as such for his presentation.

[The recent experiments of letting the beard grow upto 1 mm, 1.5 mm, 2 mm, etc has lead me to conclude that one mm of beard can have the same effect on you as one bottle of beer. I would argue that this effect rises exponentially with the length of the beard, but as the rate of growth of the beard itself decreases exponentially with time, one can assume a straight line graph between the alcoholic effect of the beard and the time you keep it.]

I don't remember where I read this: the idea of attending a viva session after having a few drinks in the morning- so as to appear confident. But really, the beard Had That effect before and during the presentation. The possibility of getting reprimanded for not having done much in BTP, didn't ring alarms in my mind. And then the things went fairly smooth too. Whatever they said about the virtually zero work, was in a very mild tone. Though, I'd like to mention here that I was sleepy, and the possibility of this fact interfering in this otherwise conclusive beard experiment can't be ruled out.

The next evening, we enjoyed a friend's birthday bash. The beard stayed on. (That now it didn't account for whole of The Effect is another thing). The 100 odd photos proved one thing about the beard: It doesn't look as bad as I used to think of it. With this realization, the idea of a shave didn't occur to me for one more day. But a bearded look can indeed be perceived as arrogance, and so in no case I'd have attended my very first lecture of a course with it. Bunked. The shave took me more time than usual, which means- postponing a shave for 5 days doesn't save you time. (The same can't be said about a 40-day old beard though. This friend of mine mentioned above would know.)

Why do such posts go on and on and on? Anyway, writing anything more would be an excessive digression. Still, I can't stop myself from questioning the validity of this saying that goes like- "What you sow, so shall you reap." Ok. Ok. I stop.

I feel like a Vish Sainik sometimes.

I feel venom running through my veins
And I want blood to flood the earthly drains.
Blood, yours. And theirs.

I would like to watch the bloody drains meet.
And I would see to it that the poison concentrates.
Poison, yours. And theirs.

Human blood, for you, is but a waste.
But I have found in it an addicting taste.
I'll stab you for them. And them for you.

I am sure neither you nor them, would object.
Your minds are blocked, and you all are hypocrites.
And I, your mob mentality.

I feel like a parasite sometimes.

(No, VHP, Bajrang Dal etc didn't contact me to write an anthem for them. I just volunteered.)

Addiction. Eccentricity. Inertia. Oblivion. Uncertainty.

Vowels continue to ruin my life.

I didn't mean to talk to you in those terms
Of the leg-cutters, and the rarest off-break.
I'm the one who would prefer a straight talk,
And googly, in any case, is not my make.

Have your cake and let me have my ice-cream,
And don't try to fool me with an icing on the cake.
You've been a good imagination; but not a reality.
Hope you got the catch, it's really not that vague.

I love minors. They offer the best time to kill. If you love killing time you also know you must kill it when it's most valuable. That way you get to satiate your need to kill it, in much lesser time (I presume the said satiation has very much to do with value you associate with your time), and thereby get some time for other constructive works too! More on that some other time. Today, let me just complete this tag that passed itself on to me from Phoenix's blog...

A book that made you laugh: High Fidelity, by Nick Hornby.

A book that made you cry: The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini.

A book that scared you: Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka was one long single scary thought. Scary, not in the sense of frightening, but in making one wish to not be in a Kafkaesque plight ever. (Apparently, the translation was not quite smooth- some rotation and disfigurement occurred in the process.)

A book that disgusted you: None so far; thankfully.

A book you loved in elementary school: Premchand’s short stories: Nasha, Eidgaah, Do Bail ki katha etc. Still love them for the use of common man’s language (i.e. a Hindi not laden with sanskrit).

A book you loved in middle/junior high school: Love Story by Erich Segal. What was that line..“ To know her is to love her.”

A book you loved in high School: The Old Man and the Sea by Hemingway. I don't talk of symbolisms in the book which, anyhow, I came to know of only later; I love it as a tale of the spirit of a man.

A book you loved in college: The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy.

A book that challenged your identity: Shantaram by G. D. Roberts, Fountainhead by Ayn Rand, Animal Farm by George Orwell.

A series you love: Numbers put me off in advance :(. But now I’ve made up my mind to give Potter a shot soon.

Horror: Read none.

Science fiction: Read none.

Your favourite fantasy: Fountainhead. The first 100 pages of it had me almost wishing I were in Roark’s shoes and behaved like that.

Your favourite mystery: None. Found myself too dumb to understand Sherlock Homes. Honestly. So couldn’t continue tAoSH beyond 20-25 pages.

Your favourite biography: Half read Gandhi's. Read none else.

Your favourite “Coming of age” book: Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts. Every observation the author makes, made me feel- ‘yeah, yeah! That’s the way life/people is/are. How come I never noticed?’

Your favourite classic: The Godfather by Mario Puzo.

Your favourite romance book: Love story by Erich Segal.

Too many 'read none's :(... Somebody please write something- Who knows, I might just get to fill one of the above empty slots! :P

[Sorry, dear Tag, you get a dead end here. May you live longer in other routes you were directed on to. :) ]

Life has been good to me, lately. (And I have no 'but' or 'still' to add to this.). It taught me a few lessons, and how sweetly! I love it. Yet again.

One of the reasons I like blogger is that the smileys don't come alive on it. I would forever prefer a ':)' or a ':P' or a ':D' the way you see them here on blogger, and not the way wordpress or others display them. I find these more genuine/understanding/humorous/witty compared to the silly yellow-colored facial representations I see elsewhere. People are no cartoon characters, please. These yellow faces are also one of the reasons I dislike yahoo messenger.
.
.
I still can't get myself to read Harry Potter. Earlier, the reason used to be to 'act' grown-up. Later on, though the contempt for it withered, the shear volume of those half a dozen books was too much for my meagre literary appetite. This time a humanities' course could've got me to sit through them, but I had to drop it for some unrelated reasons. To come across as someone who has not read any of the Potter series makes one hear some really interesting remarks. (Like a few I might find in the comments section of this post soon.).
.
.
Could anybody tell me how to store those 'names' and 'faces' at a common place in mind so as to be able to access them together? I could never do that. And I'm damn sure I would disappoint all those uncles and aunts and their children I met recently after years, next time I see them. This is one reason meeting people scares me. There are times when I know I've seen a face a good number of times, and so I know asking who he/she is would be utterly disgusting. Avoiding it is even more frustrating. Once in a function, there was this aunt who asked me to send her husband where she was standing, and I sent her younger sister's husband instead! Now that was a sight! That was funny. For, that was childhood. Now it ain't neither.
.
.
Directions elude me. No, I'm not talking about the Aim of Life and blah. The simple, two-dimensional world and its east and west are an alien territory for me. Even now, if I've to tell you the direction of my face, I will have to work it out from the fact that while walking out of the hostel gate, I walk north. Then I would have to think of how many right angles I come across from there to here. One day it struck me that men do better at things that involve 1-D and 3-D interpretation of space, while women are better at 2-D and 4-D. (I am looking forward to prove that somehow.) So women have an edge when it comes to furthering space-time research; while they can continue using perfumes for MEL110 classes.
.
.
I remember myself as a man of uncontrolled anger, who used to burst out every now and then. And so it surprises me how calm and composed I have been with people for last 3-4 years, . Everyday around myself I find people psyched out at each other at absolutely nothing. I remember the old me and smile. But sometimes, I find myself at the receiving end of such angry reactions. The old me tends to lift his ugly head out, and I get angry on myself for getting angry. Repressing anger this way has only been detrimental. People tend to think they can get away with anything. So sometimes it's good to be bad. Trust me, people, I can be bad too.
.
.
I made a few resolutions for the year 2008. They are already in tatters. Looking back, I find I could never stick to a resolution. Never ever. So, I resolve to never make a resolution again. Period.