I wanted a SIM. Got it for 99. Which is 100-1.
I got this 1 year validity thing. Got it for 95. 100-5.
I paid this guy 200 bucks.
Here i was Trying to continiously remind myself to get the change back as he verified my particulars. But as expected i forgot.
I had walked 10 min away when it struck me like lightening.
Now the dilemma.
Was the walk worth the 5 bucks. (considering that pple completely ignore a Re.)
2 steps forward n then 2 steps back. I decide. 'This is Hard Earned' money.
I reach the place and in an embarassing tone ask him for the 5 bucks.
I think i heard somebody giggle. But i kept steady.
"Do you have Rs. 5 change? " he asked, "I have 10 bucks"
I checked and finding none i refused.
Then there was a market wide search for a 5 rs. coin. Again finding none he came back and handed me the 10 rs. note. You keep it.
If only a bottle of an 'invisible' potion cost 10.
Elephants can remember!!
This comes after a series of incomplete posts. They were all concrete ideas and expressions but needed a slight brushing up before they could pass as proper blog posts. I shall copy paste them at the end of this one just to remind myself of what was flowing through the busy (read confused) mind of me.
Hey...i feel awkward when i talk abt all this stuff ...but talking abt things like the blood donation camp, my fms lab test nd project meeting with prof (AND yes the weather outside!!!) are all in my comfort zone.
one of my text msges today.
Lets take each part of this meassage separately.
The 'stuff' refers to something that i still feel weird talking abt, so shall leave it at that.
The blood donation gave me the satisfaction that comes with helping someone in need. I know it sounds cliched. But it is true. And then the fact that most of the blood that i was going to doante would be recovered within the next 24-36 hours felt really comforting. The process/act was glorified with people asking me whether i was ready to give 4-5ml of my precious 350ml for genome studies. It was a question, they thought, i wouldnt be capable enough to answer after my blood donation exercise. I signed at a few other places and proudly said i was O+ve without hepatitis, AIDS, Typhoid, Rabies and 100 million other things. And yes i was not underweight like everybody else on this planet. The syringe and the cloth wrapped around my arm slowly started sucking the blood out of my system. I felt it quite prominently, probably coz my fist was clenched too tightly. Or because the Tamilian donating blood right next to me was chanting hyms and last minute prayers with his eyes tightly closed. But as i relaxed and dreamt abt the stars on the ceiling the pressure eased up a little. And things settled down.
The illusion was disrupted when the guy next to me suddenly started shaking and sweating. And i thought to myself 'we are surely in for something exciting'. The guy was given immediate attention which included putting his legs on a chair while he was lying down so as to direct the blood supply to his head. The source was found to be completely psychological. Its all in the head. And there we were finally with 350 ml or close to 0.5 kgs of my maroon blood. And a frooti, a few biscuits and me insisting on taking a look at my own blood and figuring out how dirty it was. Anyways, convinced with the importance of blood donation, i tried influencing my friends and some of the answers that i got were
"What if the syringe doesn't come out?" which means i am a selfish little *******.
"I dont have sufficient blood in me. What will i donate?"which means i made a D in biology.
"I dont feel like. No specific reasons. I just dont want to." which can be easily interpreted as i shall piss in my pants if i go there.
"My blood is too dirty." Come on even monkeys can come up with better excuses.
But i can proudly say that i managed to convince one of them. His blood donation is a completely different story altogether. And i shall save it for another time.
Next part of the message talks abt the fms lab test. It got postponed to 21st or 23rd. And yes "I m enjoying the course Flexible Manufacturing Systems. But please dont draw conclusions. I dont know whether i want go in for an MBA or an MS. Its too early da. Its better to take your time rather than ending up at the wrong place."
Then we went to meet the prof who wasn't there in his chamber so we just slipped in a note for him. And the weather in pilani is pretty decent. Unexpected though.
Signing off. I want to end it with "Elepahants can remeber".
Hey...i feel awkward when i talk abt all this stuff ...but talking abt things like the blood donation camp, my fms lab test nd project meeting with prof (AND yes the weather outside!!!) are all in my comfort zone.
one of my text msges today.
Lets take each part of this meassage separately.
The 'stuff' refers to something that i still feel weird talking abt, so shall leave it at that.
The blood donation gave me the satisfaction that comes with helping someone in need. I know it sounds cliched. But it is true. And then the fact that most of the blood that i was going to doante would be recovered within the next 24-36 hours felt really comforting. The process/act was glorified with people asking me whether i was ready to give 4-5ml of my precious 350ml for genome studies. It was a question, they thought, i wouldnt be capable enough to answer after my blood donation exercise. I signed at a few other places and proudly said i was O+ve without hepatitis, AIDS, Typhoid, Rabies and 100 million other things. And yes i was not underweight like everybody else on this planet. The syringe and the cloth wrapped around my arm slowly started sucking the blood out of my system. I felt it quite prominently, probably coz my fist was clenched too tightly. Or because the Tamilian donating blood right next to me was chanting hyms and last minute prayers with his eyes tightly closed. But as i relaxed and dreamt abt the stars on the ceiling the pressure eased up a little. And things settled down.
The illusion was disrupted when the guy next to me suddenly started shaking and sweating. And i thought to myself 'we are surely in for something exciting'. The guy was given immediate attention which included putting his legs on a chair while he was lying down so as to direct the blood supply to his head. The source was found to be completely psychological. Its all in the head. And there we were finally with 350 ml or close to 0.5 kgs of my maroon blood. And a frooti, a few biscuits and me insisting on taking a look at my own blood and figuring out how dirty it was. Anyways, convinced with the importance of blood donation, i tried influencing my friends and some of the answers that i got were
"What if the syringe doesn't come out?" which means i am a selfish little *******.
"I dont have sufficient blood in me. What will i donate?"which means i made a D in biology.
"I dont feel like. No specific reasons. I just dont want to." which can be easily interpreted as i shall piss in my pants if i go there.
"My blood is too dirty." Come on even monkeys can come up with better excuses.
But i can proudly say that i managed to convince one of them. His blood donation is a completely different story altogether. And i shall save it for another time.
Next part of the message talks abt the fms lab test. It got postponed to 21st or 23rd. And yes "I m enjoying the course Flexible Manufacturing Systems. But please dont draw conclusions. I dont know whether i want go in for an MBA or an MS. Its too early da. Its better to take your time rather than ending up at the wrong place."
Then we went to meet the prof who wasn't there in his chamber so we just slipped in a note for him. And the weather in pilani is pretty decent. Unexpected though.
Signing off. I want to end it with "Elepahants can remeber".
Cleaner
Sunday. So i decided to clean my life today. It started of with a refreshing yet physically taxing game of tennis. I learnt to serve the ROger Federer way ( so i like to believe! ). Hit a few extravagant shots patented by Nadal and in the end returned to my room quite satisfied with my progress. I, then, had breakfast (yes that included hot 'milk') after ages. It was about this time that i decided to put my room (read my life) in order.
I got a broom. Got hold of a dirty cloth. And a bucket full of water. First i used the jhadoo to get the non-microscopic stuff out of my room. That included the banana peels and all other fruit wrappers, random pieces of paper, uniform mixture of my 'precious' and 'endangered' (no prizes for guessing why) hair and ignored dirt. It seemed easy in the beginning but the task turned out to be quite tough. The particles kept coming back to the room plus they were settling on me and my bed. So i made a strategy. I held the broom as far as i could from my body and collected the dust in one corner of the room. I then drove it out, from there, togethor. That way more dirt went out of the room. Yippee!! I have the Roadies Passion and Spirit in life to make the simplest things in life complicated. I can now go international. (thats the Roadies effect.)
Once done, i picked up the cloth and used it to mop the floor. Spiders, mosquitos, tiddas, and various other silver and black species living in different corners of the floor cried foul as i invaded their private space. They were probably trying to remind me of Darwin's theory of co-existence as i crushed them violently. In fact, they had been watching things that weren't meant for them. So they had to pay.
Anyways, i then shifted my focus to my wardrobe which was in a complete mess. As i packed my winter wear a strange creature fell on my hand. It was silver. It was slimy. Like a fish but only tinier and with feet. I looked up trying to locate the source but that only reminded me of that village where it rained fish one day!! No mercy was shown on the sole creature so that next time, the others think about the consequences before they fall on me from the top.
Yes, staying with clothes. I was scheduled to do laundry today. There was extensive washing of undergarments to be done today to suffice the rest of the week. I washed close to 20 items by transferring them from one bucket of soapy water to another bucket of relatively soap-less water. I jumped onto the clothes in the bucket and then tried to reproduce the reciprocatory motion of a washing machine (suggested by Pant). I am not sure about the clothes but my feet sure seemed clean at the end of the exercise.
Now with the surroundings clean (read my room) and the stage set (read clothes washed) it was the turn to clean my body. I shaved, tried a style which looked quite funny and eventually stuck to the more conventional clean shave. Took a bath with loads of water and made serious plans for the coming few days.
And now, here i am, after having a dinner so 'sweet' that i refuse to abuse it. There was Jaggery stuck to rice with some strong cohesive and then there was brown black colored jaggery juice and payasam/kheer soaked in sugar. Plus there was rice with rasam, rice with sambhar, rice with dal, rice with curd and rice with some other random sabzis. Anyways i enjoyed the experience.
And i dont know why but i want to end this post with something so random that i refuse to even try explaining.
The ball is in no one's court. Or is it?
It cant get more random than this.
I got a broom. Got hold of a dirty cloth. And a bucket full of water. First i used the jhadoo to get the non-microscopic stuff out of my room. That included the banana peels and all other fruit wrappers, random pieces of paper, uniform mixture of my 'precious' and 'endangered' (no prizes for guessing why) hair and ignored dirt. It seemed easy in the beginning but the task turned out to be quite tough. The particles kept coming back to the room plus they were settling on me and my bed. So i made a strategy. I held the broom as far as i could from my body and collected the dust in one corner of the room. I then drove it out, from there, togethor. That way more dirt went out of the room. Yippee!! I have the Roadies Passion and Spirit in life to make the simplest things in life complicated. I can now go international. (thats the Roadies effect.)
Once done, i picked up the cloth and used it to mop the floor. Spiders, mosquitos, tiddas, and various other silver and black species living in different corners of the floor cried foul as i invaded their private space. They were probably trying to remind me of Darwin's theory of co-existence as i crushed them violently. In fact, they had been watching things that weren't meant for them. So they had to pay.
Anyways, i then shifted my focus to my wardrobe which was in a complete mess. As i packed my winter wear a strange creature fell on my hand. It was silver. It was slimy. Like a fish but only tinier and with feet. I looked up trying to locate the source but that only reminded me of that village where it rained fish one day!! No mercy was shown on the sole creature so that next time, the others think about the consequences before they fall on me from the top.
Yes, staying with clothes. I was scheduled to do laundry today. There was extensive washing of undergarments to be done today to suffice the rest of the week. I washed close to 20 items by transferring them from one bucket of soapy water to another bucket of relatively soap-less water. I jumped onto the clothes in the bucket and then tried to reproduce the reciprocatory motion of a washing machine (suggested by Pant). I am not sure about the clothes but my feet sure seemed clean at the end of the exercise.
Now with the surroundings clean (read my room) and the stage set (read clothes washed) it was the turn to clean my body. I shaved, tried a style which looked quite funny and eventually stuck to the more conventional clean shave. Took a bath with loads of water and made serious plans for the coming few days.
And now, here i am, after having a dinner so 'sweet' that i refuse to abuse it. There was Jaggery stuck to rice with some strong cohesive and then there was brown black colored jaggery juice and payasam/kheer soaked in sugar. Plus there was rice with rasam, rice with sambhar, rice with dal, rice with curd and rice with some other random sabzis. Anyways i enjoyed the experience.
And i dont know why but i want to end this post with something so random that i refuse to even try explaining.
The ball is in no one's court. Or is it?
It cant get more random than this.
Butter fudge vs Chocolate chip
IYAD-WYAD-YAG-WYAG
If You Always Do-What You've Always Done-You'll Always Get-What You've Always Got.
So if your life is ever going to improve, you'll have to take chances.
-Anonymous
vs.
IYAD-WYAD-YAG-WYAG
If You Always Drive-the Way You've Always Driven-You'll Always Get-Where You've Always wanted to Go.
-Anonymous
'One' name but two completely different decision making strategies. The second one's actually been invented by me. It made sense, so i decided to retain it. Anyways next time i want to chose between the conventional butter-fudge(bf) or the new chocolate chip(cc), i'll remember to interpret this crap as i want to. Or i could do a SWOT analysis, which is the strength, weakness, opportunity & threat analysis of the product.
What if real life, day to day decisions were to be made on the basis of fundas mentioned in 'Management' Eighth Edition? Life would have been so simple, we could have simply lived out our entire lifetimes on paper. Or on the contrary, life would be heavily difficult dealing with the repercussions of decisions that look perfect on paper but turn out to be wrong practically. Thats why POM is just a course that needs to be forgotten after 2nd year 2nd sem.
Either way decisions are neither right 'white' nor are they wrong 'black'.
P.S. As you would have already guessed, I had my Principles Of Management(POM) Test today.
P.S. I would choose Butter fudge. The second IYAD-WYAD-YAG-WYAG works for me !!(Atleast for now)
P.S. This post is dedicated to Swati who is always had the knack to make great decisions.
If You Always Do-What You've Always Done-You'll Always Get-What You've Always Got.
So if your life is ever going to improve, you'll have to take chances.
-Anonymous
vs.
IYAD-WYAD-YAG-WYAG
If You Always Drive-the Way You've Always Driven-You'll Always Get-Where You've Always wanted to Go.
-Anonymous
'One' name but two completely different decision making strategies. The second one's actually been invented by me. It made sense, so i decided to retain it. Anyways next time i want to chose between the conventional butter-fudge(bf) or the new chocolate chip(cc), i'll remember to interpret this crap as i want to. Or i could do a SWOT analysis, which is the strength, weakness, opportunity & threat analysis of the product.
What if real life, day to day decisions were to be made on the basis of fundas mentioned in 'Management' Eighth Edition? Life would have been so simple, we could have simply lived out our entire lifetimes on paper. Or on the contrary, life would be heavily difficult dealing with the repercussions of decisions that look perfect on paper but turn out to be wrong practically. Thats why POM is just a course that needs to be forgotten after 2nd year 2nd sem.
Either way decisions are neither right 'white' nor are they wrong 'black'.
P.S. As you would have already guessed, I had my Principles Of Management(POM) Test today.
P.S. I would choose Butter fudge. The second IYAD-WYAD-YAG-WYAG works for me !!(Atleast for now)
P.S. This post is dedicated to Swati who is always had the knack to make great decisions.
Delhi
As i read through Rachit's 'picturesque' memories of Arunachal Pradesh, my own childhood memories in dirty delhi slowly started 'polluting' my head. I have lived in delhi since i was born. Family 'recreational' trips to other places were rare and limited to hill stations. They were more of an 'escape', 'air breather', 'relief' etc for me than the 'recreation'. I remember staying awake the entire nght, in anticipation of the journey. And then cursing myself for thoroughly enjoying the part where we wave goodbye to our house. Such was my desire to leave delhi. There are times when i really wish that dad hadn't left the army and i had been born n brought up in some place as open and beautiful as AP. My memories of the long distant childhood are sparse and foggy. The pollution levels have finally clogged my brain.
**************************************************************
As i walk down, sorry drive down through the various traffic sgnals and traffic jams in my head, to an age when i was 4, i recall a roadside chai walla on the other side of my nursery school wall. The aroma of fresh chai mingling with the characteristic smell of kerosene from the choolah, togethor blending with the smell of a wet wall, gave me a sense of excitement and adventure, a strange connection to nature. I stood there wondering what lies far far beyond the wall. And since then the wall, the chai & the choolah stand for an emotion in my life. Thats what i like to call 'standardisation'.
**************************************************************
My school, the (in)famous dps rkp, was around 2 hrs from my place. I recall the everyday 4 hr journey, for a period of 13years, to and from the school. I remember the school parking lot congested with buses on the banks of a dirty naala. The exhaust of the buses combined with the irritating chit-chatter of the school crowd and the added taste of a mother dairy ice lolly gave me a characterstic splitting head-ache. This happened regularly, and hence i made myself believe that i have migraine. We consulted a neurologist and everything was fine.
**************************************************************
I am 'supposed' to like delhi because i have my home there. Because it has a metro and a Lamborgini Gallardo on display. I am supposed to like Delhi because i have been born and brought up there. Because there is a Dominoes, Pizza hut, Barrista and a hundred other joints like that.
But trust me, i hate crowds. And i still dream of an isolated n open place like pilani.
Am i living my dream right now?
**************************************************************
As i walk down, sorry drive down through the various traffic sgnals and traffic jams in my head, to an age when i was 4, i recall a roadside chai walla on the other side of my nursery school wall. The aroma of fresh chai mingling with the characteristic smell of kerosene from the choolah, togethor blending with the smell of a wet wall, gave me a sense of excitement and adventure, a strange connection to nature. I stood there wondering what lies far far beyond the wall. And since then the wall, the chai & the choolah stand for an emotion in my life. Thats what i like to call 'standardisation'.
**************************************************************
My school, the (in)famous dps rkp, was around 2 hrs from my place. I recall the everyday 4 hr journey, for a period of 13years, to and from the school. I remember the school parking lot congested with buses on the banks of a dirty naala. The exhaust of the buses combined with the irritating chit-chatter of the school crowd and the added taste of a mother dairy ice lolly gave me a characterstic splitting head-ache. This happened regularly, and hence i made myself believe that i have migraine. We consulted a neurologist and everything was fine.
**************************************************************
I am 'supposed' to like delhi because i have my home there. Because it has a metro and a Lamborgini Gallardo on display. I am supposed to like Delhi because i have been born and brought up there. Because there is a Dominoes, Pizza hut, Barrista and a hundred other joints like that.
But trust me, i hate crowds. And i still dream of an isolated n open place like pilani.
Am i living my dream right now?
The 'eyes' have t
The 'i' on my keyboard has buckled under the 'too' much stress that t was subjected to. As a result of this it has stopped responding to the light tap of my finger. There can be two very simple logical deductions that can be made from the above given fact. The first being that, 'i' have used the letter 'i' most number of times which further doesn't imply anything. And second, u shall fnd a lot of words with their i's missing. Every time u find a word with a correct 'i', just think about the author who has taken the pain to carefully type it there for you. I now take the liberty to say that 'the i's have it'.
This reminds me of a brilliant Ruskin Bond story named 'The eyes have it'. For all those who haven't read it, its a good read. Go grab it. Its a cute story about two visually impaired people, a male and a female, who meet on a train. They try to carry out an interesting conversation about the weather outsde and the appealing greens without revealing their handicaps. They draw on their experiences descrbing the beauty involved in the world. This is a serious comment on 'seeing', by the author, for those who have a good eyesight either don't have the time or the interest to 'see' the things around them. Eventually its a fellow passenger who breaks the news to the man when the young lady gets down on the station, "She had very beautiful eyes, its a pity she couldn't see."
I don't know about seeing. But i sure can hear a lot of stuff. For one, there s a constant and distant sound that reaches my ears when i'm peacefully sitting in my room. Its a like a tolling bell. A gong being hit at constant intervals. No one else can hear it. It seems that my ears have been equipped with something that lets me hear sounds that are outside the audible frequency range. Lucky me!!
Then there is music that simply puts me in a peaceful trance. When i say music, i mean a partcular selectve song. I close my eyes, raise my hands and hum along. Rgamalika 's Sangamam had a smlar effect on me. The sound of the violin, yesterday penetrated to my interiors and started a virus scan. It was brilliant.
To end the post, here's what i said during my Measurement Techniques viva, "Viscosity is the property of a liquid whch is inherent to that liquid" And i got some marks.
P.S. This post is dedicated to my grand-mom and my casio teacher who tried their level best to put some sense of music into my head for 5 years. But my far from melodious voice was never tailormade for musc. And i ended up leaving it.
This reminds me of a brilliant Ruskin Bond story named 'The eyes have it'. For all those who haven't read it, its a good read. Go grab it. Its a cute story about two visually impaired people, a male and a female, who meet on a train. They try to carry out an interesting conversation about the weather outsde and the appealing greens without revealing their handicaps. They draw on their experiences descrbing the beauty involved in the world. This is a serious comment on 'seeing', by the author, for those who have a good eyesight either don't have the time or the interest to 'see' the things around them. Eventually its a fellow passenger who breaks the news to the man when the young lady gets down on the station, "She had very beautiful eyes, its a pity she couldn't see."
I don't know about seeing. But i sure can hear a lot of stuff. For one, there s a constant and distant sound that reaches my ears when i'm peacefully sitting in my room. Its a like a tolling bell. A gong being hit at constant intervals. No one else can hear it. It seems that my ears have been equipped with something that lets me hear sounds that are outside the audible frequency range. Lucky me!!
Then there is music that simply puts me in a peaceful trance. When i say music, i mean a partcular selectve song. I close my eyes, raise my hands and hum along. Rgamalika 's Sangamam had a smlar effect on me. The sound of the violin, yesterday penetrated to my interiors and started a virus scan. It was brilliant.
To end the post, here's what i said during my Measurement Techniques viva, "Viscosity is the property of a liquid whch is inherent to that liquid" And i got some marks.
P.S. This post is dedicated to my grand-mom and my casio teacher who tried their level best to put some sense of music into my head for 5 years. But my far from melodious voice was never tailormade for musc. And i ended up leaving it.
Lonely day
Such a lonely day
And it's mine
The most loneliest day of my life
Such a lonely day
Should be banned
It's a day that I can't stand
The most loneliest day of my life
The most loneliest day of my life
Such a lonely day
Shouldn't exist
It's a day that I'll never miss
Such a lonely day
And it's mine
The most loneliest day of my life
And if you go, I wanna go with you
And if you die, I wanna die with you
Take your hand and walk away
The most loneliest day of my life
The most loneliest day of my life
The most loneliest day of my life
Life
Such a lonely day
And it's mine
It's a day that I'm glad I survived
It's a day that I'm glad I survived
And it's mine
The most loneliest day of my life
Such a lonely day
Should be banned
It's a day that I can't stand
The most loneliest day of my life
The most loneliest day of my life
Such a lonely day
Shouldn't exist
It's a day that I'll never miss
Such a lonely day
And it's mine
The most loneliest day of my life
And if you go, I wanna go with you
And if you die, I wanna die with you
Take your hand and walk away
The most loneliest day of my life
The most loneliest day of my life
The most loneliest day of my life
Life
Such a lonely day
And it's mine
It's a day that I'm glad I survived
It's a day that I'm glad I survived
'Dumb'ies 13.0
Recently, there was a nation-wide hunt for a bunch of smart youngsters. Hero Honda MTV Roadies was back with its new installment Roadies 5.0. It was looking for new bikers. And since it was going international this time, the selection procedure was expected to be tougher and more grilling. Adventurous, intelligent, interesting, confident, talented & physically fit were some of the keywords during the various iterations. After insulting, abusing and using various other demotivating tactics, the executive producer, a guy named Raghu, finally narrowed it down to 13 proud Roadies.
They were all smart chaps. Why wouldn't they be? They all talked about promiscuous and raw sex, Guitars and Booze, Angelina jolie and Leopards, hairstyles and pubs, and various other worldly things in one breath of fluent english. As a matter of fact the show was going international for the first time and each of them had a reputation to live upto. All of them believed in broadening their horizons and looking at things from a global perspective. And thus its quite justified that the following 'insignificant' question received the below mentioned answers
Questions: "Who is the president of India?"
Answers
Smart girl1:APJ
Smart girl2:APJ Kalam
Smart girl3:Sushma
Smart girl4:Manmohan
Why would you like to answer that silly question when you can give a lap dance, indulge in a catfight and/or differentiate between raw and casual sex? Why care. These are times when the f word is a 'satisfactory' answer to almost all questions and a simple finger says more than what is required. Hair-styles, makeups, designer apparel are absolutely necessary ingredients to serve an indian 'dish' to an international audience. And not to forget the icing with the artificial accent. India shining. The world will surely notice.
They were all smart chaps. Why wouldn't they be? They all talked about promiscuous and raw sex, Guitars and Booze, Angelina jolie and Leopards, hairstyles and pubs, and various other worldly things in one breath of fluent english. As a matter of fact the show was going international for the first time and each of them had a reputation to live upto. All of them believed in broadening their horizons and looking at things from a global perspective. And thus its quite justified that the following 'insignificant' question received the below mentioned answers
Questions: "Who is the president of India?"
Answers
Smart girl1:APJ
Smart girl2:APJ Kalam
Smart girl3:Sushma
Smart girl4:Manmohan
Why would you like to answer that silly question when you can give a lap dance, indulge in a catfight and/or differentiate between raw and casual sex? Why care. These are times when the f word is a 'satisfactory' answer to almost all questions and a simple finger says more than what is required. Hair-styles, makeups, designer apparel are absolutely necessary ingredients to serve an indian 'dish' to an international audience. And not to forget the icing with the artificial accent. India shining. The world will surely notice.
The Cynical Contrarian
I supported Djokovic when he played Federer. Never wanted Schumacher to win any race. Heikennen, Alonso, Barrichello were always my pick. For me, Tendulkar never plays well under crunch situations. Ambani was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. And then the guys with extra high cgpa's should take a break and let the fives get a chance.
Everybody identifies with the underdog as it is the projection of their own struggle. But once that underdog succeeds and makes winning a habit then the masses negate him because they are unable to come to terms of their own limitatons.It just illustrates that excellence is an individuals quest whereas mediocrity is a collective refuge- Harsha Nagaraju ( MY TIMES, MY VOICE )
It surely makes sense and answers a lot of questions. One of them being, 'Why we hate winners so much'.
With the premature demise of Benazir Bhutto, another question, fogs the atmosphere, 'Why do we love the dead so much'.
The woman in question here, was no doubt a great person, but wasn't she the one who was charged of corruption twice during her tenure? She was also one of the greatest supporters of cross border terrorism, which has resulted in so much chaos in the valley. (This claim is a shot in the dark, but i think it'll hit the target) Then there was JFK who was believed to be behind the death of Marilyn Monroe and princess Diana with her infamous affairs. Both were immediately made 'gods' after their deaths. Their sins were shadowed and a pure white image emerged. My only question here is why idolize 'humans'. Lets just cry a little, remember them with their sins and move on. Are we so scared of their ghosts? Or is there a slight hope in us which believes that if not in life we would (like them) probably be celebrated in our death. In fact, we do the tears & flowers on funerals so that others reciprocate the gesture at our end. We want others to forget our sins and say ' He was a good man'. Thus every tear that we cry for a Benazir Bhutto has a malicious intention behind it. We surely are a 'selfish' lot.
Everybody identifies with the underdog as it is the projection of their own struggle. But once that underdog succeeds and makes winning a habit then the masses negate him because they are unable to come to terms of their own limitatons.It just illustrates that excellence is an individuals quest whereas mediocrity is a collective refuge- Harsha Nagaraju ( MY TIMES, MY VOICE )
It surely makes sense and answers a lot of questions. One of them being, 'Why we hate winners so much'.
With the premature demise of Benazir Bhutto, another question, fogs the atmosphere, 'Why do we love the dead so much'.
The woman in question here, was no doubt a great person, but wasn't she the one who was charged of corruption twice during her tenure? She was also one of the greatest supporters of cross border terrorism, which has resulted in so much chaos in the valley. (This claim is a shot in the dark, but i think it'll hit the target) Then there was JFK who was believed to be behind the death of Marilyn Monroe and princess Diana with her infamous affairs. Both were immediately made 'gods' after their deaths. Their sins were shadowed and a pure white image emerged. My only question here is why idolize 'humans'. Lets just cry a little, remember them with their sins and move on. Are we so scared of their ghosts? Or is there a slight hope in us which believes that if not in life we would (like them) probably be celebrated in our death. In fact, we do the tears & flowers on funerals so that others reciprocate the gesture at our end. We want others to forget our sins and say ' He was a good man'. Thus every tear that we cry for a Benazir Bhutto has a malicious intention behind it. We surely are a 'selfish' lot.
Panic Times
I got 'psyched'. Then I got more 'psyched' and finally i got so 'psyched' that I had to come up with some explanation or the other. Lame might be the first word that comes to your mind after you read it. But then its the best. Herez why i went 'highly' crazy 'THAT' morning.
- Well, for starters i found a place higher than the Mt. Abu that Mr. Sriram V and Ms. Shravya Reddy had told me about.
- Then i was in one of those situations, where u lose complete control of everything thats happening around you. (Normally i have a hand in everything thats going around in my external 'environment' or so i believe. All ups & downs are satisfactorily answered by a single statement which says "Because I wanted it to happen (full stop)")
- Thus the very characteristic (i.e. the ability to stay in control of a situation or simply acting to be in control of one) that form the foundation of 'Me' was shaken and hence i panicked.
Next came the control measures:
- A refreshing bath which predominantly meant pouring ice 'cold' water on my head. It helped with the blood flow.
- A series of resolutions that had the following set of words POM, ApT, TP, Sponz, Early Sleep, NFS, Milk, LOTR, Constructive work etc etc.
- A thoughtful walk towards the institute atleast an hour before the targetted class. It was an achievement, that walk.
- An attempt to sit in the library so as to calmly implement the 'DO NOT PANIC' advised by the senses.
And finally it took a good night's sleep to forget everything that happened on Tuesday. With it disapeared the resolutions and the panic. There were only two words that stuck on, and they said 'NEVER AGAIN'.
'Adventure goes awry'
We were three of us. We had planned an 'unplanned' journey, like the ones you see in movies. A simple bag, a wrist watch, a camera for the unexpected moments, some cash and an adventurous soul. A road trip. I dont remember too many details as it seems like ages ago. But i remember the number of 'that' last bus, 3975. It stopped at one of the villages. And all of a sudden we decided to get down. Like all decisions on this journey, this was as impulsive.
I close my eyes in an attempt to push back the brain barriers but i just remember the helplessness. The memory is still quite foggy.
I got down from the bus expecting a new adventure and i heard sounds of bullets from a machine gun. Not bad for a village adventure i thought. I dont remember the source. Nor do i remember what happened to the other two with me. I ran. But the pellets caught up and slowly started piercing my back. One by one they entered my body as i fell flat on myface. I felt helpless. I dont remember the pain but the " I dont want to die right now" attached to it comes back quite distinctly to my mind.
I wasn't even out of my dream when 'Adventure goes awry' struck like lightening. I shouted 'Eureka' as it was the perfect Title for my next post. Whats with the craze of blogging, i ask myself. I go through each day searching for something substantial to write about but the helplessness comes back to me. "I don't want to die right now i still have loads to write about".
I close my eyes in an attempt to push back the brain barriers but i just remember the helplessness. The memory is still quite foggy.
I got down from the bus expecting a new adventure and i heard sounds of bullets from a machine gun. Not bad for a village adventure i thought. I dont remember the source. Nor do i remember what happened to the other two with me. I ran. But the pellets caught up and slowly started piercing my back. One by one they entered my body as i fell flat on myface. I felt helpless. I dont remember the pain but the " I dont want to die right now" attached to it comes back quite distinctly to my mind.
I wasn't even out of my dream when 'Adventure goes awry' struck like lightening. I shouted 'Eureka' as it was the perfect Title for my next post. Whats with the craze of blogging, i ask myself. I go through each day searching for something substantial to write about but the helplessness comes back to me. "I don't want to die right now i still have loads to write about".
Semantic Gap
I woke up in a land where i couldnt understand the language of the people shouting around me. I woke up because of that or probably because the clock was shouting 12. I made the effort to investigate and thus found the culprit in the common room. I think it was SUN TV. On enquiring (in a language easily understood by both sides) i found that a major event had occured in A.P (the reply was in skewed english). I eagerly listened, as i saw 'BREAKING NEWS' splashed all over the screen. Fans of Telugu superstar Chiranjeevi had allegedly attacked actor Rajasekhar and his family members to protest against some remarks by the latter.
According to the people sitting, Rajashekhar had stated on Sunday that Chiranjeevi had no experience in throwing parties (as he was doing it for the first time). And thus expressed his reluctance to be a part of it. So the fans of Chiranjeevi got angry, very angry.
First i couldn't believe it. Why would somebody comment on something as small as a page three 'party'? And then even if he did, why the unnecessary violence?
'INEXPERIENCE TO THROW PARTIES'
:-)
It took an entire day and a lot of convincing by a lot of people for this episode to sink in. When i finally resigned to its reality and googled 'Chiranjeevi' for the final confirmation. This is what i found:
Rajasekhar had stated on Sunday that he would not join the political party proposed to be floated by Chiranjeevi, as the latter had no party experience.
The reality had changed but it was equally funny. It had infact reached the common room in the form of a communication gap. But I still laughed.
According to the people sitting, Rajashekhar had stated on Sunday that Chiranjeevi had no experience in throwing parties (as he was doing it for the first time). And thus expressed his reluctance to be a part of it. So the fans of Chiranjeevi got angry, very angry.
First i couldn't believe it. Why would somebody comment on something as small as a page three 'party'? And then even if he did, why the unnecessary violence?
'INEXPERIENCE TO THROW PARTIES'
:-)
It took an entire day and a lot of convincing by a lot of people for this episode to sink in. When i finally resigned to its reality and googled 'Chiranjeevi' for the final confirmation. This is what i found:
Rajasekhar had stated on Sunday that he would not join the political party proposed to be floated by Chiranjeevi, as the latter had no party experience.
The reality had changed but it was equally funny. It had infact reached the common room in the form of a communication gap. But I still laughed.
Victory!!
Dreams. Dream yourself as the best. God. Invincible at the age of 20. Imagine yourself as winner. Winner of Australian Open 2008. Imagine yourself achieving a dream. Imagine yourself as Nole. Novak Djokovic. The only serbian to have won a grand slam.
So much for hygiene
Reasons why i brushed my teeth twice today in the morning
- Suddenly there is a very noticeable hole in one of my teeth. A cavity. I guess thats what its called. Its black and ugly so right now am all scared. How would i look witth that one particular tooth missing.
- I have reason to believe that one can brush away one's sin. And i have been proven correct this time. For more information refer to point 6.
- The cold water in your mouth is like ice. So in a sense it was penance for my sins.
- It was probably to cover up for yesterday morning, when i had to rush for a class and hurried through one of the most important aspects of hygiene.
- To avoid the trouble of brushing today in the night.
- To prevent 'extra' bad breath. (Following that logic my room also needs a good brush).
- It was a simple gesture which said "I think i still care" !!
- Close-up tastes nice and i was hungry.
- Finally and most importantly, No one was watching.
FORCED YAWNS
We decided to go for a nice stroll in the cold weather. Sushant chickened out. "Ob da". There was the prospect of hot paneer paranthas in sac waiting on the other side of the ordeal. Ahh it was certainly worth all the trouble. The food was brilliant. That kind of gives away the quality of food provided in the mess. Anyways from now on all treats and other dinner outings shall be shifted to sac. There is only one drawback, you dont get to laze around "conversation seems futile", focus being on the food that seems to be coming any moment now.
Then there was this meeting with the PMRU. First day. Everybody seemed all serious about this stuff. Directly out of the textbook named "Conventional". 'B' 'I' 'T' 'S' Pilani needs more publicity. We need to build media relations with the english dailies rather than the low profile rajasthan 'patrikas' circulated mainly in a radius of 250 kms of Jaipur. And then Deora made me realise how important the 'Bong Connection' really is. And bloody he used the entire stretch from fd1 to vyas to emphasise this point. Finally lesson learnt. Did someone mention reporting events and sensationalising insignificant events?
Wing was the hub of a lot of activity courtesy our very own 'bong connection'. We were made spectators to something that had us in splits for almost an hour. Hostel. Lesson learnt: Close all gaps and never waste electricity( turn off lights). And a word of caution against spies like Shekhar and Appa who have a very strong sixth sense.
:-)
Then there was 'sponz' calling and a conscious effort to get an artificial 'southie' accent. It was Mr. Balasubramanyam on the other end so i was confident that the transformation would help. Try putting an elongated 'aa' after every sentence and you are almost there. For the more interested ones use 'macha' , 'da' and 'sexy ra' as often as you can afford and you could pass as a 'gult'. And yeah most importantly modify your bathing cycle.
Long weekend coming ahead. Udaipur. Bikaner. Jaipur. Delhi. Roadtrip. Delhi. Pilani. "If only we could get a few bikes", remarked Ada casually. So what if its only some 3 degrees below freezing point. Why not, we are dudes in the making right.
There is most probably SPM test tomorrow and its second hour. Shit. BCC. FCC. Simple cubic. Forced YAWN. And its 2. Forced YAWN. Its late. YAWN. Time to sleep.
YAWN. Good night.
Then there was this meeting with the PMRU. First day. Everybody seemed all serious about this stuff. Directly out of the textbook named "Conventional". 'B' 'I' 'T' 'S' Pilani needs more publicity. We need to build media relations with the english dailies rather than the low profile rajasthan 'patrikas' circulated mainly in a radius of 250 kms of Jaipur. And then Deora made me realise how important the 'Bong Connection' really is. And bloody he used the entire stretch from fd1 to vyas to emphasise this point. Finally lesson learnt. Did someone mention reporting events and sensationalising insignificant events?
Wing was the hub of a lot of activity courtesy our very own 'bong connection'. We were made spectators to something that had us in splits for almost an hour. Hostel. Lesson learnt: Close all gaps and never waste electricity( turn off lights). And a word of caution against spies like Shekhar and Appa who have a very strong sixth sense.
:-)
Then there was 'sponz' calling and a conscious effort to get an artificial 'southie' accent. It was Mr. Balasubramanyam on the other end so i was confident that the transformation would help. Try putting an elongated 'aa' after every sentence and you are almost there. For the more interested ones use 'macha' , 'da' and 'sexy ra' as often as you can afford and you could pass as a 'gult'. And yeah most importantly modify your bathing cycle.
Long weekend coming ahead. Udaipur. Bikaner. Jaipur. Delhi. Roadtrip. Delhi. Pilani. "If only we could get a few bikes", remarked Ada casually. So what if its only some 3 degrees below freezing point. Why not, we are dudes in the making right.
There is most probably SPM test tomorrow and its second hour. Shit. BCC. FCC. Simple cubic. Forced YAWN. And its 2. Forced YAWN. Its late. YAWN. Time to sleep.
YAWN. Good night.
I did a good deed today!
I feel happy. I did a good deed today.
I was very close to my bhawan. 5 minutes by foot. But I stood there, infront of VFAST, going over every tiny detail of my minute long meeting with ebibo. It was probably a 5-6 second phase( hindrance in motion) and immediately a rikshaw appeared infront of me. I instinctively refused telling him that i preferred walking. But within the next 30 seconds, as to what took over me, i have absolutely no clue. I got on the rickshaw and told the guy to lead me to vyas. First even he didn't believe his luck and wondered whether i said FD3 or C'not. But after i confirmed, he thought to himself 'Youth of today are surely a weak lot'. I did a good deed today and i am happy.
This guy was old and haggard. He seemed to have lost his eyesight in one eye. A thick shawl was wrapped around him. After all in a place with temperatures reaching -0.8 degree celsius even breezy afternoons could turn dangerous. He cycled as hard as his exhausted muscles would allow and then got down in the middle to push the rickshaw. Now he said something, more to himself than to me. But it was audible. "I have worked here for 40 years. Now i am getting tired." He mumbled something else but i wasn't able to figure out what that was. The rickshaw stopped. Vyas was here. As i got down somebody remarked "Whats up with you, when did you start using rickshaws." "Is VFAST that far? You never used a rickshaw before." I feel tired today, i lied.
I quickly opened my wallet and paid him 10 bucks. He probably knew. But as i hurried into the hostel there was a smile on my face and i felt happy. I did a good deed today.
I was very close to my bhawan. 5 minutes by foot. But I stood there, infront of VFAST, going over every tiny detail of my minute long meeting with ebibo. It was probably a 5-6 second phase( hindrance in motion) and immediately a rikshaw appeared infront of me. I instinctively refused telling him that i preferred walking. But within the next 30 seconds, as to what took over me, i have absolutely no clue. I got on the rickshaw and told the guy to lead me to vyas. First even he didn't believe his luck and wondered whether i said FD3 or C'not. But after i confirmed, he thought to himself 'Youth of today are surely a weak lot'. I did a good deed today and i am happy.
This guy was old and haggard. He seemed to have lost his eyesight in one eye. A thick shawl was wrapped around him. After all in a place with temperatures reaching -0.8 degree celsius even breezy afternoons could turn dangerous. He cycled as hard as his exhausted muscles would allow and then got down in the middle to push the rickshaw. Now he said something, more to himself than to me. But it was audible. "I have worked here for 40 years. Now i am getting tired." He mumbled something else but i wasn't able to figure out what that was. The rickshaw stopped. Vyas was here. As i got down somebody remarked "Whats up with you, when did you start using rickshaws." "Is VFAST that far? You never used a rickshaw before." I feel tired today, i lied.
I quickly opened my wallet and paid him 10 bucks. He probably knew. But as i hurried into the hostel there was a smile on my face and i felt happy. I did a good deed today.
The 'It'
dooba dooba rehta hoon main aankhon main teri...
deewana ban gaya hoon chahat main teri....
There are days, when you simply cant stop thinking about a particular thing or person( from now on referred to as 'It'). It continously revolves in your head and makes you go crazy. The only way out of this madness is:
To listen to it and hum along, if 'it' is a song
To indulge in it, if 'it' is an activity, or
To meet 'it' and spend time, if 'it' is a person
It comes and blows away like the wind and lasts probably for a few hours. Max a day, but hardly longer. You know you'll probably end up laughing at it, in hindsight. Some like to simply call it 'an' infatuation and others a 'phase'. But i personally like to tag it to something more heavenly yet concrete.
Ab din guzarte nahin Ratein kat-ti nahin
Teri tasvir se baat ban-ti nahin... Aa-ja
'It' is representative of your mood or your general state of happiness.Or in more scientific terms, a mere illustration of resonance (or maybe constructive interference).
Koi jaane na, Pehchaane na
Yeh hua kaise
Tum aagaye khwabon mein aise
I just cant stop singing this song. Its been going in my head for a very long time now. I am left to wonder what 'it' is ?
Is it the song or the mood?
deewana ban gaya hoon chahat main teri....
There are days, when you simply cant stop thinking about a particular thing or person( from now on referred to as 'It'). It continously revolves in your head and makes you go crazy. The only way out of this madness is:
To listen to it and hum along, if 'it' is a song
To indulge in it, if 'it' is an activity, or
To meet 'it' and spend time, if 'it' is a person
It comes and blows away like the wind and lasts probably for a few hours. Max a day, but hardly longer. You know you'll probably end up laughing at it, in hindsight. Some like to simply call it 'an' infatuation and others a 'phase'. But i personally like to tag it to something more heavenly yet concrete.
Ab din guzarte nahin Ratein kat-ti nahin
Teri tasvir se baat ban-ti nahin... Aa-ja
'It' is representative of your mood or your general state of happiness.Or in more scientific terms, a mere illustration of resonance (or maybe constructive interference).
Koi jaane na, Pehchaane na
Yeh hua kaise
Tum aagaye khwabon mein aise
I just cant stop singing this song. Its been going in my head for a very long time now. I am left to wonder what 'it' is ?
Is it the song or the mood?
The Trip
So i decided to make it a little out of the ordinary...or probably just write it that way.yes some might want to believe that it was a preconceived idea for the trip. And then there will be some who would point out the similarities with the Dune adventures but then desert setting couldn't be helped. So here is how it goes....
It was a land ruled by An elusive white mouse who gave audience only to the destined.His servant mice were called the kaba.They togethor with the help of creepy beetles carried out orders of The One. A land where sand waves look like a brown snapshot of the never-ending ocean. But a land where water was scarce and food all salty. Shrubs and undergrowthes( with thorns) were common yet isolated, possibly inhabited by snakes. We were here in the sacred land for an 'oasis' trip. Some of us, to thank the events that had recently come to pass and some to hopefully change the course of future. But the primary motive was to indulge in an experience that we wouldn't forget in a lifetime. Whether we were able to fulfill it, is another question altogethor.
Some of the best pics...
It was a land ruled by An elusive white mouse who gave audience only to the destined.His servant mice were called the kaba.They togethor with the help of creepy beetles carried out orders of The One. A land where sand waves look like a brown snapshot of the never-ending ocean. But a land where water was scarce and food all salty. Shrubs and undergrowthes( with thorns) were common yet isolated, possibly inhabited by snakes. We were here in the sacred land for an 'oasis' trip. Some of us, to thank the events that had recently come to pass and some to hopefully change the course of future. But the primary motive was to indulge in an experience that we wouldn't forget in a lifetime. Whether we were able to fulfill it, is another question altogethor.
Some of the best pics...
a perfect sunset @ Jaiselmair
Waking up with the sun on the dunes of Jaiselmair
Of past and present
The past was about silent dinners. About the fear of losing close ones. Of clogged emotions. And of love. It was sometimes about losing hope and sometimes about soaring spirits. Depression and closed rooms. It was about being conventional.
The present is about maggie parties and horror movies that make no sense whatsoever. It is sometimes about dreams of patriotism and sometimes about Geneva. Of overwhelming emotions. About coffees & friends. The cold air outside. The highs. The infatuations bordering on love. Of Lord of the rings. Of french beards and of change. It is all about being different.
Sometimes about fear of losing close ones. Sometimes of closed rooms.
Its about living the past all over again.
The present is about maggie parties and horror movies that make no sense whatsoever. It is sometimes about dreams of patriotism and sometimes about Geneva. Of overwhelming emotions. About coffees & friends. The cold air outside. The highs. The infatuations bordering on love. Of Lord of the rings. Of french beards and of change. It is all about being different.
Sometimes about fear of losing close ones. Sometimes of closed rooms.
Its about living the past all over again.
They deserve to die
It is probably one of the most 'boring' things created by nature. It stands there on the way, punished, with its hand like branches, up in the air. Punished for what, one wonders? Its like every other tree trying to achieve a bigger part of the sky, but then thats again so unexciting. So colorless and dull.
Its roots that dig deep, have little to boast about, they cripple the tree and make it stationary. Moreover they keep the tree alive for ages. Alive for what, one wonders? Certainly not for the birds or the animals that urinate on it. And surely not for the children who tie it with strings so as to create new rides.
The shoot and fruit just wait for their fate, resigning themselves to the wind and the animals. Spiritless and uninterested.
Its difficult to believe that red ants can experiment their habitats but trees can't. The only aspirations that a tree nurses is that of adapting to his surroundings. And when he achieves it, he fades into oblivion. Finally.
I cut these uninspired creatures to incite them and add life in them. I shout "Get up and fend for yourselves." But they certainly are a wearisome lot. They just stare at me. So I dig deeper with my axe and cry louder "Fight back you asses." But these dumb creatures don't care.
So they deserve to die.
Its roots that dig deep, have little to boast about, they cripple the tree and make it stationary. Moreover they keep the tree alive for ages. Alive for what, one wonders? Certainly not for the birds or the animals that urinate on it. And surely not for the children who tie it with strings so as to create new rides.
The shoot and fruit just wait for their fate, resigning themselves to the wind and the animals. Spiritless and uninterested.
Its difficult to believe that red ants can experiment their habitats but trees can't. The only aspirations that a tree nurses is that of adapting to his surroundings. And when he achieves it, he fades into oblivion. Finally.
I cut these uninspired creatures to incite them and add life in them. I shout "Get up and fend for yourselves." But they certainly are a wearisome lot. They just stare at me. So I dig deeper with my axe and cry louder "Fight back you asses." But these dumb creatures don't care.
So they deserve to die.
The ride
Unlike the crazy cow that was making for interesting viewing outside the bus, there was something 'desperate' that was happening right inside me.
It started of with a simple action( or inaction!!) that i indulged in at home. That coupled with the climate and the crowd inside the bus led to 'intense' circumstances later.
The adrenaline rush( with some other forces) started within 30mins of leaving the source city. It was like a needle slowly pricking and urging the desire. I daringly used Music as an antidote, oblivious to its effects on the human physiology. But Mr. Rehman's song motivated me to 'hold on'. The next hour or so was relatively easier to pass. I was convinced that i could wait till the destination. But thats when everything started changing. Plans went astray.
There came the stretch of road which was as bumpy as any ride that one would find in an amusement park. To top it all my music player was out of battery and i couldn't help but think about class 6 biology. Water now started boiling. It was slowly yet surely reaching the critical limit. Something had to be done. And so I decided to wait on and have faith.
Ironically now i had faith in the government bus service. I was almost sure that the driver would stop at one of the many bus-stations that come on the way. But today of all days he seemed to be in a hurry as the bus sped across one bus-stop after another or so it seemed. I looked around thinking of stuff that would have normally kept me busy for hours in normal circumstances but was of no help today. Finally i got up and started navigating my way towards the driver, with every intention of telling him to stop. I had conceded defeat.
I felt like Nadal in the wimbledon final who lost to federer after battling for close to 4 hours. Or was it Roddick. No Roddick lost early and went to see Sharapova's matches from the stands. She played well but lost to Williams. Venus went on to win as she had it easy against the big Bartoli. Bartoli seeded 18 defeated the formidable henin and put a break..... on the bus....
At last it had stopped. I hurried to the door as i could no longer wait. It was as one would say an urgent matter. And it had all started with a simple glass of water.
It started of with a simple action( or inaction!!) that i indulged in at home. That coupled with the climate and the crowd inside the bus led to 'intense' circumstances later.
The adrenaline rush( with some other forces) started within 30mins of leaving the source city. It was like a needle slowly pricking and urging the desire. I daringly used Music as an antidote, oblivious to its effects on the human physiology. But Mr. Rehman's song motivated me to 'hold on'. The next hour or so was relatively easier to pass. I was convinced that i could wait till the destination. But thats when everything started changing. Plans went astray.
There came the stretch of road which was as bumpy as any ride that one would find in an amusement park. To top it all my music player was out of battery and i couldn't help but think about class 6 biology. Water now started boiling. It was slowly yet surely reaching the critical limit. Something had to be done. And so I decided to wait on and have faith.
Ironically now i had faith in the government bus service. I was almost sure that the driver would stop at one of the many bus-stations that come on the way. But today of all days he seemed to be in a hurry as the bus sped across one bus-stop after another or so it seemed. I looked around thinking of stuff that would have normally kept me busy for hours in normal circumstances but was of no help today. Finally i got up and started navigating my way towards the driver, with every intention of telling him to stop. I had conceded defeat.
I felt like Nadal in the wimbledon final who lost to federer after battling for close to 4 hours. Or was it Roddick. No Roddick lost early and went to see Sharapova's matches from the stands. She played well but lost to Williams. Venus went on to win as she had it easy against the big Bartoli. Bartoli seeded 18 defeated the formidable henin and put a break..... on the bus....
At last it had stopped. I hurried to the door as i could no longer wait. It was as one would say an urgent matter. And it had all started with a simple glass of water.
The run
I ran. I ran as fast as I could. The best part was that I didn’t look back. I ran from my home. I ran from what one would call as one's own. People who saw me said I was going to get lost. But for once in my life I wanted to get lost. I wanted to disappear.
One day you would too.
I ran. I ran as if no one was watching. I didn’t have to worry whether my feet were twisted or if my small toe was too big. I was running on a road called freedom.
Where it led, I hardly cared.
Would u?
I ran. I ran with frenzied madness. People said I was searching for something. I smiled and said I was. But the best part was that I wasn't and I had just found it. So I ran.
I ran. I ran as if I didn’t have anybody to beat. But a slight turn of my head destroyed my illusion of an ideal run. My opponents had changed. They seemed much faster but they made a lot of noise. The run was probably taking its toll on them. I smiled as I was not tired. They were not like me but they were still running. Running, for what, I wondered?
I think they were foolish as I heard one of them look at me and shout "Careful!! It’s a crazy cow. It might come under your car."
And I laughed.
Wouldn't u?
Inspired by the crazy cow competing with the bus.
One day you would too.
I ran. I ran as if no one was watching. I didn’t have to worry whether my feet were twisted or if my small toe was too big. I was running on a road called freedom.
Where it led, I hardly cared.
Would u?
I ran. I ran with frenzied madness. People said I was searching for something. I smiled and said I was. But the best part was that I wasn't and I had just found it. So I ran.
I ran. I ran as if I didn’t have anybody to beat. But a slight turn of my head destroyed my illusion of an ideal run. My opponents had changed. They seemed much faster but they made a lot of noise. The run was probably taking its toll on them. I smiled as I was not tired. They were not like me but they were still running. Running, for what, I wondered?
I think they were foolish as I heard one of them look at me and shout "Careful!! It’s a crazy cow. It might come under your car."
And I laughed.
Wouldn't u?
Inspired by the crazy cow competing with the bus.
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