a few hundred words

First things first

2011-10-20T22:59:00.000+05:30

Growing up. It's a small sentence with a million and one afterburners on its tail; it's both good and bad, unbearable and yearned for at the same time.

I wasn't too keen on growing up — my teenage symptoms still strike back like the empire. But they make growing up so much more enjoyable, to the point that I can actually slow down time and savor every second that passes me by. This 'bullet time' sequence is very delicious when it comes to chewing the morsels of a moment I have longed for years. The eye makes for an excellent camera, as well – recording better than RED at much higher than 120 fps, with quality that would put Blu-Ray to shame.

You know I'm kinda happy when I'm using way too many movie/gadget/blabbermouth references.

Anyway, the thing that matters is growing up. Not as much as the objective of growing up, which would just lead to a fully developed adult, but the actual verb of it in the sentence. You know, when you're growing up, and you get to drive the car by yourself for the first time. Like that. Even though you're 20. Coming in late to the party doesn't matter. Hell, you're VIP. But sitting down in the driver's seat. That. That's what I mean.

But that's still not a complete description to what I have stood witness to. Frankly, it's very easy to describe. But putting it in a mere tersely phrased sentence will rob the beauty of it. What I want is to dignify this moment forever, supply it with the same amount of respect that I've been giving the thing in question, and create a freaking museum out of it. Okay, traveling too far, perhaps. But not as far as I drove!

Not as far as I drove, at all. If you want to get down to the science of it, consider it distance measured in time and incremented in exponential amounts – I did record this in slow motion, remember? – for what is driving a car for the first time? Priceless. What is backing it up and banging it into another car for the first time? Priceless. And doing so just out of the sheer nervousness that grips you because someone is sitting next to you, and you can barely drive for the whole trip? Amazing.

Maybe MasterCard will come in handy sometime.

Open secrets

2011-09-29T17:30:00.000+05:30

I had already planned to title this post, whenever it came – "confessions". But things went differently than planned. They went better.

Frankly, I never had much of a plan per se. I just knew something had to be done about this, for what would be the result of me taking this precious little sacred secret with me to a land far away?
I don't know how this conversation ever happened, and I don't know how it got to this, and I'm really at a lack of words to express myself about making it out.

No matter how many times I look back, I know it hurt when it happened. But seven years and fifteen seconds later, I know I'll be glad for every moment afterwards, regardless of decision. Just 'cause.

Plus, who knew this would be a learning experience, as well? I wish I knew how to say no with grace. Or that I could go back in time and change things with the aforementioned knowledge. In any event, my feelings are far too die hard to merely wane.

And my writing is beginning to sound like jellybeans.

And if you're looking for another out of place sentence, tell me, is it even possible to sum up a billion and one emotions into one sentence?

"Um. Hey."

2011-09-27T18:04:00.000+05:30

Hey, Ms. Khan.

Um.. Happy birthday! And..yeah! Right. So uh.

Well. I guess that's it. Right?

Uhhmm. I hope you got the letter.

Well.

Alright then.

That looks like a six, right?

2011-09-18T23:30:00.000+05:30

I kinda forgot the cake, but happy birthday!

Go ahead, check it out. Don't be afraid, click that image, head to the page and click download! Then, as ritual follows, set the downloaded image as your wallpaper. Forever.

I mean...till next year, when I make a new one. :D

As humans

2011-09-18T23:00:00.000+05:30

Where do you draw the line? I'm not talking about compromise, or your personal frustration with some sort of self-respect draining monster. I'm talking about your own beliefs; thoughts that come to steam before you step out to do anything at all. These are the things you've already thought about, but ruminated over only long enough to scratch the surface. You think you know much more than you know, but you'll have to face it sooner or later -- the fact that you didn't know it at all.

Your presumptions could only take you so far, and unless you have a map or some sort of GPS device, it is highly likely that you've wandered off to the wrong continent. And that's too bad, because you've begun a whole new civilization there; one with pagans and warriors alike, building towers of worship and economy all at once.

I'm pretty sure you find what I say hard to understand, especially at first go. I won't blame you. I don't get what I say sometimes, too, but this post deserves a second look.

Let's look at an analogy here. You go buy a box crayons. When you come back with the said box, you find shattered hopes and eyes and mouths open in shock. What could you have done wrong? What? What is it? Is it the crayons? No, it's the people looking at you. While you were out crayon-hunting, those people had already decided you were going to come back with a mistake. They had already devised a civilization's worth of intelligence based on one fact -- that you went out to buy something. And now, whether you like it or not, you will be hated. Ironically, it has nothing to do with you. They're insecure. In the civilization they've developed, they strongly believe that if they stand an inch closer to you, they'll be out, buying a box of something.

In order to safeguard personal well-being, they perceive anything as threat. They don't want to listen. They don't want to understand. That's it. It's a rock you can never move.

But you can choose to move your own way and travel your own path. Being different doesn't mean you're not normal.

I can't hope to open more minds at the end of this post. I can't speak of much more. But if I were to tell you something; if I were to put it in words I recently heard, "If it doesn't hurt anyone", it's probably not wrong.

People

2011-09-18T00:04:00.002+05:30

Sometimes, they just make better sense when they're not with you.

With constant activity constantly revolving around their constant presence, not much thought comes to coalesce on their entirety, but much on your presence with them, as a unit. Working together as a team through turbulent times as a classic example of the one of the better human endeavors is easily achieved with both minds in incessant contact. Also, this results in swifter accomplishment, often in more than one direction.

However, only when you are left alone can you come to terms with them, and your own self. You see, in togetherness, unless you are in some sort of parasitic relationship, symbiosis forces all members of the combination to think of itself as one whole unit. If that's just me, well, then it seems like a good plan for you MBAs to spew out in your next emergency meeting.
In any case, as a unit, your senses rarely realize what every one has been tackling. And when the dust begins to settle, you realize what has been accomplished.

When left with your thoughts, you finally realize a person's significance in your life. What he or she meant to you and what you might soon pine for. Every incident worth your memory comes back in a slower form, much like a scene shot in five hundred takes. As director, you've pretty much seen all of those takes, because you've rejected the first 499. And the last one made it.

Unfortunately, you tend to realize all of this alone. Either that, or when placed in the scenario you should rightfully be in, you won't have to be alone for this enlightenment to occur. Or, in a thirds division, that person won't be stupid enough to leave you alone to think of a nuance of a world that might never make a difference. They'd probably slap that realization in your face.

That'd be pretty awesome, wouldn't it? Maybe you could do that to someone, too, instead of waiting to get slapped, you know.

Sixth semester blues

2011-05-15T01:26:00.004+05:30

The sun weighs down my soul.

It's a few hundred degrees as soon it's safe to call it a morning. I would've said it felt cold and dark because that's what it's like on the inside, but this holy Sun of ours has left me with no choice.

Speaking of things that leave me with no choice -- it's not a short list. This brutal college life behaves frantic like a preteen with an M3 on his hands. As if taking an hour to get there wasn't already enough, it has began piling me with much more than its cumbersome culinary speciality of unusually useless files, lost pens and emotional overloads. It has touched a whole new low with this attendance nag.

Three hundred and a few more days ago, I couldn't gather enough of me to write right. Just bottling feelings to the point that they'd eventually leak and erupt at the same time. It's not much different, but hopefully fortunately, it's not much the same either. Of course, I still need to quit talking crazy, but hey.

Trust issues grab me by the neck. Everyone can be your friend and be not so much at the same time. I used to wonder how and when people learned to be people of this world and learned to deal with people of this world, and boy am I getting an answer.

Oh and the encounters with a surprisingly similar soul -- and the turns it brought. Don't get me started. Demons, those.

I already got my license, but if ya know what I mean, driving fo real is a little different. It's good. Feels like I'm finally growing up.

Yeeeeaaah riiiiighhttt.

Is this how it ends?

2011-05-15T01:26:00.003+05:30

"But doc, these teenage blues, they're...they're coming up so late!"

"This can mean only one thing, son."

"...that it doesn't end without bright lights?"

"Much so."

Happy birthday!

2010-09-18T20:10:00.004+05:30

Man, you're growing up fast. It's almost like I can't even see you getting taller. Five years old already? Come on, gimme a hug.

Show some love. Let your computer wear this wallpaper.

Music therapy

2010-09-03T17:37:00.002+05:30

Hear the

drum

pounding out of time

Another protester has

crossed the line

To find, the money's

on the other side

Can I get another Amen?

There's a flag wrapped

around a score of men

A gag,

a plastic bag on a monument

I beg to

dream and differ

from the hollow lies

this is the dawning of the rest

of our lives

on holiday!

Things

2010-05-02T14:21:00.004+05:30

Don't do this. Do that. That's not right. Do that. Are you sure you want that? Don't do that! Do this. This is odd. Stay away from that. Never do this. Ever. Don't do it. Is that the right thing to do? Do it. Don't do it. Do not do that, ever. If you do that, you'll make a mistake. Don't do it. You'll regret it. Don't do it. What is right, what is wrong? Don't do it. I don't think you should do that. You know, you'll wish you did this when you see other people have done it. Do it, then. But don't do that. I don't think it's the right thing to do. Don't do this. Do that. Doing that would result in something unfortunate. Why would you regret it? Because you live by standards that are beginning to collide with things that you want to do. They don't allow you to do them. So, I'm regretting it both ways. Doing it, and not. So, I'd advise that you don't do it. Do not, ever in your life, do that. Maybe in the future, you'll wish you didn't want that. Make the right desicion. Don't do this. Do this. Don't do this. Do this. Don't do this. Do not do this. And who are you to tell me what to do? You're a blind man in search of a path even though you don't know where to go. Any path will take you there. So take my advice, don't do this. Do this. Don't do this.

Hertz

2010-04-19T17:47:00.001+05:30

Man, that can't be good.

Time in a can of soda

2010-04-18T20:14:00.004+05:30

Demons. Of a lifetime. Concentrated into a bottle of concentrated juice.

Let me begin this the way I usually begin sentences these days. I wanted to put this somewhere else, but I am constantly at conflict with myself.

Ghosts from my past came to me, looked me in the eye, and they asked me "heads, or tails?".

Sure I'm absorbed with the events that have been circling me, but that's not too much of a problem. That's the trend these days. 327 million people have been declared poor, but front page speaks of a screwed up cricket franchise that's being taken away by a Mr. Modi, and a man who shuffles marriages like, well, whatever. I've lost interest in that sentence.

In a lot more interesting world, where the clock chimes at every hour, but the hours fly away every second, a lot has changed. An entire universe of beliefs has been turned upside down, and nothing makes sense anymore. Anarchy rules this world, and order lives out in space.

Frankly, though, if you look back, order is merely what you think it is. So that means order is perhaps, what I perceive of it. Then, perhaps, everything is wrong, because it's right, but not right like I see it. Then perhaps, I am wrong.

I don't want this to be a short post. But my environment changes rampantly while I'm writing. I don't want to write.

Are things like writing this even in my control anymore?

As a side note, I'd like to mention that this institution almost feels like one. Big learning on a class called life. Also, time is of the essence, as with all human endeavor .

Demons. Are you the demons that I think you are?

Today, 2010

2010-01-01T21:13:00.003+05:30

Every time before this, on occasion of New Year's, I wrote on the 31st of December, wishing you in advance.

I was going to do the same this time, too.

However, something came to me, and told me, "No. Think again.".

Those words were way too much to handle, profound and simple in their entirety. Uninvited, they changed my mentality to an extent that I had no other option but to write today -- the first day of the new year.

But you know what sudden change is like, don't you? It seems asinine, especially in the beginning. Like a minor viral infection that pierces through the immune system, you can only hear it like the snow that touches the ground. And if you pay close attention to that sound, it just seems crazy. But like sudden change, that sound starts blaring like songs at an Indian wedding. And that's when you realize you have no option but to listen to it.

Unless you have noise canceling headphones, that is.

Also, like that very snow, the voice that told me to "Think again" was not a voice, at all. In fact, it was an absence of it.

Okay, enough mumbo-jumbo. My internet connection died yesterday.

So, happy new year, today!

Late teen blues

2009-11-15T23:59:00.000+05:30

Man, do I know what cloudy vision is now.

Hey, wazzup. Liek omgz, I think I want to play that game on my Wii. Ooh, and I gotta watch that show. Yeah, I'll text you right after I'm done. No way! It's 3 AM? Aw man, I got class at nine tomorrow. Crap, there's a test. Oh boy, gotta finish those files in college.

Man, this hysteria is getting to me.

Woah, so u mean I gt clss till 6. I don't wanna stdy aftr tht. Psh no wonder my prnts keep tlling me I gotta study. I dnt want to!! WTF! I cn totlly hndl it. Im nt a nerd. Nerds r gay.

And then, I remember my dreams. And then, there's nothing left to say. And then, there's plans in my mind, that bounce around in my head. And when I blame something for putting my plan to waste, those plans dissolve.
And then, there's nothing left to say.

Irresponsibility, ill-management and teenage hysteria are becoming forces to reckon with. Wonder why they're showing up so late.

Btw, happy budday 2 Sania mirza.

Rain dance

2009-08-22T16:34:00.006+05:30

Last night, I think my efforts in rain dancing succeeded.
Looking at the way it was, I'm pretty sure it wasn't my effort to invoke the rain alone. It was like the answer to the prayers of 50 million worshipers of the Rain Gods. And if you were in Delhi last night, you have got to admit it was a brilliant answer at that.

Let me describe it at a clearer level -- if you were in mid-air, and it was raining like it was last night, you'd be screaming for help like you were thrown out of your raft in a class 4 whitewater rapid. But if you were standing on firm ground, you would have been lucky to be there.

Anyway, as the rain moved forth and converted rain-haters to rain-lovers, it blew a couple of trees here and there. All nature's way of recycling and stuff.
Unfortunately, a poor dude had his car parked on the very firm ground we talked about, and unfortunately a swishing tree landed on his car.

Now, normally, I'd express sympathy for a guy like that, even though there wasn't too much damage and his car was still in working condition. In fact, I did.

Until today, that is. Until I found out who the car's owner really was.
Dude had the gall to cut away all the trees in a mile's radius so that it doesn't happen again.

This was reminiscent of the villainous, multi-gazillion dollar industry owners you'd see in old Hindi movies; Laden in a red robe, smoking a pipe and ordering deforestation on a Veblen cellular device.
The only problem was that this wasn't a Hindi movie. The trees were going down for real, and the guy responsible for it wasn't a multi-gazillion dollar industry owner. As far as I know, he's not too keen on owning intelligence either, let alone concern for the environment. In fact, the guy's a a swab of a prick whose fat stomach blinds him from his feet. And now it seems like his feet aren't the only things he can't see.
Plus, I thought schools were making kids smarter these days and well aware that we need more trees right now. Seems like that's an epic fail, too, because the only thing the kid helped his dad do was take pictures of this precious time.

Frankly, I hope this treasured memory makes him scream in his dreams.

Right now, I could go on and argue that God probably gave humans too much power when He gave us room to kill. Instead, I'm going to describe what I saw when a tree came down.

Why was he doing this? He'd get a full insurance claim. Plus, there wasn't too much damage. The roof was a little bent, that's all. He'd probably stash more money from insurance than the car needed...

Trees take time to cut. This one I'm talking about took over 4 hours, I believe. They tied the ropes, and then they came in with the blades. They sawed and I saw from my window.

Is it illegal to cut trees? Should I call the police?

Eventually, they were done. They yelled and they ran away. Then, they pulled the ropes.

The tree fell with a hard thud. The ground shook like an Earthquake, quite too literally.

I don't think you need someone to tell you in school that you shouldn't take down trees just because you can. You don't have to be Einstein, either.

As for the tree, I can only hope they won't burn it down like the rest of the trash.

Stupidity will lead to the end of Earth. Hopefully, we'll be there to see it, and we'll know who to blame for our deaths. The only question I ponder upon now is that if I punch the guy in the face and take a tooth out, will he get all of them extracted?

Insence and peppermints

2009-08-03T18:37:00.002+05:30

Today was like oil in water.

Irresponsible fools who have no control over themselves or are restricted to a somewhat myopic vision of their actions rarely do things right. At least things people would appreciate.
But I assume, now, that this wasn't about gathering appreciation. This was merely a cold announcement, that not only came in pleasurably late, but at a time that would cause food poisoning upon ingestion.

Clearly, all men must pay for their sins within their time.
With no room for escape and someplace to run, thunder will strike appropriately, though sometimes delayed. And when it strikes, those who must pay, will pay in full.

With this, I cancel my plan to write a day for a week.

The barrel

2009-08-02T14:22:00.006+05:30

Purple haze is in the sky.

In the distance, fire rolls in a barrel. It's not really cold, so it is harshly unclear who lit it in the first place. However, it'll be cold soon. But somebody needs to take care of the monoxides they've been releasing because of this.

In other news, college is about to start again.

I don't know if I feel like smiling or sighing.
It's a complex mathematical equation in explanation, even though it's not really like that. It's like a complex love-hate relationship that never ceases to turn the tables around; like a coin that's in the air when you've chosen to toss it in favor of an odd - because when it's in the air, it's spinning.

Perennial confusion makes for a sweet dessert.

Anyway, while I'm stepping out of line, I gotta tell ya' -- this hiatus almost felt like one. But now that I look back at my blog, I have to say I did write. Sure, you couldn't see it, but that's only because silence was pretty much the best way to describe the time I had. It had a profound meaning, you'll notice. A meaning that revolved in troubled times. Times of void. Times of making music. Times of not reading the Times of India. Confused efforts. Mis-managed times.

So, next time you see the gap between December 31st and today, read it. After all, it was life in my 18th year.

However, I do deserve some punishment. So I'm going to hit out a post a day, every day, for a week. Turn up the volume on your RSS readers!

There goes another booger.

The last day of December

2008-12-31T20:10:00.002+05:30

When you sit down in the evening -- curtains closed, low natural light -- you realize how fast the year's gone past. At one point of your think-trip, it almost feels like a blaze and you remember January like it was yesterday.

I remember when the year began.

Actually, I don't.
But what I do remember is that, even though, right now it feels like the year went away in a flash, there were times that were sluggish beyond imagination. Those were the days that just wouldn't end, no matter how much you wanted them to.
And then, there were the days you wished would last longer.

For me, waiting for college was like pushing a building. Nothing seemed to happen at a stretch of 3 months. Nothing. I don't even know how those months got crossed off the calendar. Waking up at 12 and going to sleep twelve hours later never seemed to go so slow.

But one day, it was over. And then, it felt like coming out of an underground bomb shelter after a Nuclear attack.

That's precisely when college doors opened for me.
And after college began, there was no way of tracing the clock's footsteps. Days were passing by like the pages flip when you're reading the most interestingest novel.
It just happened a couple of months ago, and I can't even mathematically explain how it was only a couple of months.
For one thing, I got out of school this year, but it feels like it's been forty.

There's obviously some sort of problem in the space-time continuum when it comes to this day. Time dilates and contracts and inflates and shrinks and it all goes crazy.

Yeah, but that's pretty much what happens every year.

Another thing that happens every year, somewhere around this date, but preferably no later, is that I say:

Have a happy new year.

Candycanes

2008-12-25T23:41:00.000+05:30

Christmas day.

This day has something weird about it. I can't really put my finger on it, but I have to say it's not really positive. For starters, those Christmas songs are really depressing. I don't know what it is, but they have this melancholy inducing power or something.

Silent night, and a voice that dances around in misery telling you "Hey! Have a merry Christmas!". That's not what I want.

But like I said, I can't really tell if I want to hold those songs responsible for everything that goes on.

Actually, I have no idea. I don't know if it's the smell of the food, or the red hats everywhere. Maybe it's the fights I've been having or the fact that I haven't been on a shopping spree of late. It could even be my broken headphones. I don't even know why I'm taking it all out on this day.

One thing's for sure though -- those songs are no good. They've got something wrong in the melody or something. All those bells in the music and schoolboy choruses -- no good.
Punk rock is far more cheerful.

And to top off those bad songs playing at the malls, I had a Toasty Twister and it didn't quite taste up to my expectations. It was just another reminder that I never should've digressed from the Zinger burger.

Anyway, the trouble with being sad is that, you tend to spread it around you, whenever you talk to someone. That, and anger. They're pretty Newtonian.
And since that's something I absolutely do not want to do, I just hope you have a very Zingery Christmas.

Yeah, it's almost over, but what the hey.

I con fusion

2008-12-23T11:26:00.003+05:30

At one point of time, life was crystal clear.
You knew where the train headed, and why you were going there. Things made sense out of the sheer desire to make sense, and it was all like a movie on Blu-ray.
At one point of time, life was crystal clear.

But that was probably sometime in the '60s.

Just when I thought I was somehow exempt from teenage hysteria, it gripped me like a cold hands on a warm cup of coffee. Odiously, it hasn't loosened its grip since.

For example, my will to write about the Mumbai attack (11/26) was crushed when I was stuck choosing between:

"It's not raining." and
"It isn't raining."

Complexities have sprouted from nowhere, and I'm constantly standing at a fork in the road. This has led me to believe that I'm probably the only one who doesn't know what's going on.

The guys who missed their Metro Train home and stood, like a stone, at the station to watch the news about the situation in Mumbai when a couple of idiots hooked to GTA busted into the Taj -- they seemed to know what they were doing.
Why was I trying to get a seat in the Metro then?

The kids in college, who came in like me, at the same time as me, study day and night, and are on no sleep -- they seem to know what they're doing.
Why was I thinking of a new template for my blog then?

When I'm always heading in the opposi -- Wait a second!

No sleep? Are you kidding me? Those books don't deserve that! I don't care if you spent all night trying to memorise a useless fact about types of hammers! Plus, the results aren't even out yet. We'll see who thought about their blog, slept all night and comes out on top.

And those who cared about the Mumbai blast -- YOU don't know what you're doing. You're protesting against terrorism? Wow, smart move. It's not a freaking Government you're protesting against -- taking the nation to a halt for a day and marching out to the gate won't do anything. How does it even matter? Do you really think protesting against terrorism will make them stop? "Oh my God! Those guys are protesting against terrorists! We can't attack there!"

I don't mean to kid around when I say 'Rang De Basanti' has really gone to your head.

However, peace marches or lighting candles -- those are personal beliefs, and they do make sense. Protesting against someone who doesn't care, that is stupid.

Well, at least you made me feel smart.
I may have written only 118 posts, and this may be the millionth one about utter confusion, but you've done a good job at stopping me from writing my next post about confission. Fusion. Whatever.

Congratulations.

Little does he know

2008-11-12T20:50:00.004+05:30

You don't need a signal to know if I have a blog. Google it!

Party's over

2008-10-12T22:21:00.002+05:30

It's one thing to forget September 27 and write back 2 days later with an "Uh...I'm sorry" note, but to forget the 18th -- the very day this began -- and remember it at the beginning of the next month, and then write about it ten days later is way beyond absolution.

And since there's no point in asking for an apology, I'll just go forth and pile your desk up with ~~the ton of excuses I just came up with~~ a classy, chronological and intermediately descriptive account of events that kept me from getting my blog a 'Happy Birthday!' card.

College
School's been over for a long, long time now. College hasn't been on for that long, but it sure feels longer. Intriguingly enough, college, or at least my college, is closer to 5th grade school than anything else. The backpacks are heavy again. The homework's being submitted again. The homework's being submitted on time again. The files are being overworked at again.
With that as only a minute percentage of my periodic workload, I found it hard to scribble with my keyboard.

Home
Ever since college began, home became the holy abode of homework. Files were (and still are) due every mañana, so there was absolutely no way for me to come back home at 7:30, sit down for half an hour, copy from a freaking, highly erroneous and stupidity-laden (so-called) lab manual, and draw meaningless diagrams of the null, and then go out on the hunt for a wild birthday card.
Mission unaccomplished, baby!

The power button
Well, the power button's all the way below my knee (at chair level) and damn. I was so freaking lazy that I...just...*yawn*..cou..

College
College, or at least, my college is nothing like the one they show in 'Jaane Tu...ya jaane na' (or other movies of such nature). But the worst part is that it isn't anything like 'Jaane Tu...ya jaane na'. At least not yet.
The sorrow bogged me down. I couldn't write.

Sorrow.

College
Chemistry is an evil subject and it's hard to believe the government hasn't banned it yet. What's harder to believe is that it doesn't matter what you're studying, you just have to "study" chemistry. Now, some of you might argue otherwise and tell me that the debate is pointless, but the truth is that chemistry is pointless -- to me and to millions of teenagers like me.
Stop tethering chemistry with B.Tech, let abhas1 wish a little birthday!

Excuses
I thought of one/elaborated an older one everyday.
"Write today? Nah! I'll tell them ~~the planet exploded~~ my dog ate the draft!"

College
I had to slice bars of iron. Really! And my arms were wrapped in crepe bandage to fight the overlord of Pain.

.....

Now don't ask me how I sat down to write this. All I know is that this belated thing is getting to me. And that I forgot the 27th this year, too.

Damnation.

?Yhw

2008-09-16T19:25:00.003+05:30

Where do you go

to be safe?

Where can you tell yourself

NOTHING will go wrong?

Are you too sure?

I saw the blast.

A bomb explode

with my own freakin' eyes

right in front of me.

If was any closer, I would

have been

in the smoke.

Where do you go?

Where do you know?

They know no shame.

They play religion.

Why mustn't you?

And kill that of the trash.

All hope is lost

2008-09-04T22:11:00.001+05:30

Or is it really?

Binary choice

2008-08-28T15:04:00.003+05:30

Log:
July 25, 2007
12:32 PM

[Begin transmission]
...
"Hey, you're [noise], right?"
"Yeah.."

[Signal disturbance; High attenuation, noise]
"A[noise]s! Go back to your seat!"
::[./High pitched scream noted during message]

"..." [sigh] "Bye"

[End transmission]

...

Erase? [Y/N]

Rant party

2008-08-27T19:36:00.006+05:30

Clearly, people of this planet wish to peek deeper inside my life.

Here's your prize.

Teh Summer of

It takes a lot of work; a big, juicy bottle of concrete effort to wake up early in the morning. And with nothing to do but wait for college to commence, I made it my mission to do so.
I started waking up at no later than 12:30 PM the first day on. No sweat.

Later in the mornings of the post meridiem, I decided to watch some quality news -- what better to serve my appetite than IndiaTV?

And serve my appetite it did. I cannot thank God enough for my decision to switch to that holy channel. How else would I have been enlightened on the deep, political, cold-war-ish issues of the universe? How else would I have learned that life-forms from light-years away seek to dip cookies in milk?

I say a channel of the stature of IndiaTV should be celebrated. No other channel dares to contemplate a risk so supereme. No other channel delivers as much as this.
And as far as my beliefs go, I feel the owner of this sacred breed of electronic media should be awarded a Nobel Peace Prize. Not only has this noble man changed the face of Indian news by showcasing ~~crap~~ events from all around the galaxy, he has done his part to serve Mother Earth. By brilliantly executing news production of such awe worthy stories, he has told us that our planet serves a deeper, meaningful purpose in this ever-expanding universe -- milk production.
And soon after his efforts to advertise Cows in deep space suffice, we will become the №.1 supplier of dairy and dairy based products in the entire galaxy.

But for the owner of such a heralded organization, marketing a planet isn't enough.

He also does all that he can to ensure prevalence of safety amongst civilians by fighting crime in his own, wonderful way. He ~~dresses up~~ hires ~~fake~~ detectives and policemen to solve the most complex crimes with ease, assisting the actual police force in the process.

Now, which other channel does that? Which other channel goes as far as to buy police costumes? Which other channel points fingers in all directions when there's a murder? "YOU! or YOU! EVEN YOU COULD BE THE FREAKIN' CRIMINAL WHO BRUTALLY MURDERED THAT PERSON WITH A BLUNT KNIFE AFTER DRINKING A BEER AND SMELLING SOME PERFUME!"

So remember kids, IndiaTV is here to help you when you're about to get killed.
Next time something goes awkwardly out of hand, you know what to dial. Not 1-0-0. +91-120-3051000. That's where the real cops are.

...

And that's all I did this summer.
Apart from shredding some Stratocaster metal and working up some Python. And traveling to the west. And the south, briefly. And going live! twice.

*Packs bags for college*

Pshaw

2008-08-17T17:21:00.002+05:30

"So..you're back."

Maybe.

"What do you mean?"

I'm not sure if I'm really here or not.

"You look here to me."

I don't know. Don't you already know how confused I am? I'm confused. Very confused.

"You're definitely back. That's a signal."

Signal shmigmal. I don't know!
I might be at some sort of recovery stage, if that counts as 'here'.

"I'm confused."

Yes, I am.

Hold the phone

2008-06-27T22:39:00.005+05:30

You don't have to be a l33t-nerd to know this guy. You don't have to smell of silicon to know what he did. You don't even have to know all your keyboard shortcuts to know his name, because he made it possible for you to run your computer with your mouse.

He resides somewhere in Washington, but if you wear your glasses right, you know he is pretty much everywhere.
He is probably part of your computer's operating system, or your web browser. He might even be in your swank ol' HTC cellphone. He's probably even with you right now, as you read this. He is present here, as I write this down.

But now, he'll be everywhere but at Microsoft. He sort of retires, today.

His name is William, but you call him Bill.

To the batmobile!

2008-06-17T21:37:00.008+05:30

Obviously, newsmakers have no idea where to draw the line¹. They have this hugely insane idea about trading in paranoia for some shiny new TRP. So, the new round of their daily whatever circles around the Earth exploding sometime in 2012. Until, the next day, when they want you to believe that the Earth is imploding. That, until totally unconfirmed reports ² suggest that the Sun is going to crash into our planet. And now, for some reason, they want you to think that the Maya Calendar holds secrets to the future of the Earth's civilization.

Well, all these speculations and "rumors" educe me, and I guess it's up to me to save the planet, again.

Pedal to the metal in my Factsmobile, I'm at the Maya station.
Now, first and foremost, let me silence the people who believe that the Maya Long Count Calendar ends on December 21, 2012 -- it doesn't. What does actually occur, is the completion of the 13th B'ak'tun cycle. Which, according, to the Mayans, may represent "a transition from the current Creation world into the next". Well, mic check.

In this age we are approaching the same count again, only there is a common misconception of the Maya's practice of abbreviating their dates to five vigesimal places. According to the Maya there will be a baktun ending in 2012, a significant event being the end of the 13th 394 year period, but not the end of the world.³

Next stop, 'The Collision'.
Now, I don't want all the news channels to count the numbers in The Bible and cook up an algorithm that predicts an asteroid collision, as done by the author of 'The Bible Code', but if you're still betting on the asteroid, 16.6 million miles is as close as you're going to get. According to NASA, some space rock called the four-hundred-something Eros is going to pass by the blue planet. Which is cool by me, because it does so almost every 846 days.

So now, you can cross the collision off the list. 16.6 million miles is definitely a clean pass. But kudos to the author, for pressure cooking the algorithm to predict something on the asteroid line. You were good, but your calculations were just a wee bit off.

See now, this one's just plain hilarious.
"The Sun crashing into the Earth", and I cite that from some news channel's headline. Now, you don't need to be well versed with the teachings of astrophysics or any sort of super-sci-fi lingo to tell that stars aren't particularly bright when it comes to locomotion ⁴. And you definitely do not need to be told that the Sun is a star. Do you see what I'm saying here?
You were taught in 5th grade what Galileo had a hard time explaining -- the Earth moves around the sun, not the other way around. Plus, if the Sun was going to collide with the Earth, what would happen to our hot little tykes, Mars and Venus? It's a shame no one ever thought of that.
Another point you should probably note is that if the Sun was ever to undergo such a sudden, massive movement, the entire galaxy's gravitational balance would be disturbed, and such a thing could only be accomplished if the galaxy's gravitational balance would suddenly, and massively, be disturbed. Just a minor Catch-22, here.

The apocalypse? I'll take a look in 2040, again⁵.
One more thing -- only Apple product launches are meritorious of such widespread speculation.

.....

Do I really need to ring it in your ears all over again? ^
The "reports" are from some weird guy's dream. Apparently, he sees the world's end, there. He also checks out the calendar in time to find he was sleeping in 2012. ^
[via] ^
They do move, albeit smoothly enough to go unnoticed, or create rampant changes. ^
What Newton said. (From an old newspaper report. I can't help but be skeptical about this.) ^

31 days later

2008-06-10T23:19:00.016+05:30

Well, that's it. Mr. Jobs has done it, all over again.
In an ever so spectacular, completely-sold-out, applause-ridden performance, Jobs announced the new and improved iPhone 3G, an upgrade to the OS X, and a candy box of other cool things.
But what's really cool is that the new and improved iPhone 3G will be faster, highly secure on networks, provide more push email clients, contain a GPS receiver, have a shinier back, a flush 3.5mm headphone jack and will offer a scientific calculator!¹

And there's just one more thing -- it's going to sell for just $199².

A point to note, here. When Jobs put together the price part, he mentioned it would be a maximum of $199 in almost all of the countries it's going to be shipped to. That's 70 countries worldwide.
Now, going by the current exchange rates, that translates to around just Rs.8,000 in India.
Is that really possible? Eight grand for a piece of technology that is probably more advanced than everything else we know? 8K for a new iPod+phone+hand-held internet browser+gaming device?
It seems highly unlikely, because it's just a little over the edge than the cheapest iPod we have in India. But if the translation is correct, it's is going to murder the competition, in the most literal and brutal sense.

Anyway, it was a great show, and at 1.18 gigs, it's pretty heavy, too. Oh, and seemingly, by this rate, we'll be immortal 10 WWDCs later.

.....

1: That's part of the new iPhone version 2.0. It also includes the much anticipated AppStore, amongst other things.^

2: That's minus the now forced AT&T (or respective) 2-year carrier contract.^

Time zones

2008-06-09T18:29:00.003+05:30

Four hours later, the world will be what it has never been. Four hours later, San Fransisco will see the time India already saw. But four hours later, San Fransisco will see something India is yet to have a glimpse of.

Four hours later, WWDC is going to kick off, upgrading mobility as we know it -- the iPhone's going to celebrate it's second birthday way before time.
While that's one interesting aspect we are certain will occur, there's precisely 931.2 kilograms of questions waiting to be answered. However, the question that takes up most of the weight revolves around the surprise (rumored, expected) appearance of the 3G iPhone. Apart from that, nobody knows for sure whether OS X is up for an upgrade, either. And it's a tight secret as to what Apple might offer as an answer to the Microsoft Surface. What about the new multi-touch patent we saw? Any upgrades to the Mini? New iPods?!An all new turtleneck?What about the graphics processor?!The speech!

Monday mornings have never been so enticing.

*Live coverage via Engadget.

School

2008-06-05T15:09:00.003+05:30

I used to be afraid of the Boards. I used to be in 12th grade. I used to have fun during class. I used to wear a blue uniform. I used to wear a couple of badges. I used to rap in corridors. I used to draw on my backpack. I used to have mommy-made lunches. I used to doodle on desks. I used to sneak my cellphone to class at times. I used to have secret crushes everyone knew about. I used to get dressed and ready for school in 15 minutes.

I used to be in school.

Now, I'm not.

I'm a ronin. At least until I have somewhere to go to.

Damn.

Blood

2008-05-22T18:47:00.004+05:30

There once was a girl who went to bed with dreams in her eyes. There was a girl who would find herself being a synonym of joy. She would pick up a few flowers coming home on the way from school. She would study hard and bring an apple for her teacher.
When she went home, she brought a glow with her. The walls would cheer up and scream with glee.

But one day, there was no scream. Only silence where glee should have been.

You know what?
I can't write this. It's too freaking painful. It bleeds to know that Aarushi was killed that day. It pierces my mind with a silver bullet to know that there is a human being alive, on this very planet, who can kill people. It burns my veins to know that there is a police department that is as dull as a box of hair. It is just plain disgusting to see that the effing press is...

The Police
Alright. These guys just blow it.
I don't even need to remind you how "safe" our country already is. And then there's the NOIDA Police - the absolutely perfect combination of lethargy and stupidity. These guys operate on a whole new level of obtuse intelligence. A level so effing advanced, it is scary and disturbing at the same time.

Anywhere else in the world, the whole area would've been sealed; not a soul would have been allowed to set foot past the yellow tape. Anyone noted to be passing that area frequently would automatically find himself on the list of suspects.

But these guys have a whole new thing going on; a whole other strategy in mind. They don't want to seal the area. Oh no. They want everybody there. They've left doors open to the murder scene. "Go ahead everybody, tamper with the evidence! You from the press? Go ahead, toy with the blood-soaked mattress!"

You want me and countless other people not to tell you how to do your job? Then do it right. It doesn't take a neurosurgeon to figure out what to do at the scene of a homicide.

The Media
How dare you? How dare you?
Who gave you the right to show blood on air? Who was it? I need to know because there's an effing censor board for movies and TV that keeps them from showing anything disturbing. Alright. Forget that. Do you even know why there's a censor board? It's because real, actual human beings watch those movies and TV shows. When there's a group of people who decide there are certain things that must not be shown on TV, it's because they don't people of their nation to pick up things like smoking.

"The Girl's bedroom secrets". Bedroom secrets? Bedroom secrets?
What kind of sick freaks are you? You want to sell this story, too?

I don't know who's monitoring content on your side. I don't know why you show the kind of explicit material that you do. But what you're doing is not right. And if this country ever fails to succeed, you will be responsible.
That's right, IndiaTV. I'm talking to you.

And forget monitoring your stupid, effing content. Who on this planet told you to swarm inside the Talwar's garage? Who told you take a shot of the blood-ridden walls of that house? Who the eff told you to broadcast dead people on live TV? I am shocked to see the police didn't care, but are you guys completely in over your heads? You really think this will sell? Well, let me tell you. Nobody, and I mean nobody wants to see the crap you dish out. The last thing we want to
see when someone is killed, is their blood. So next time something like this happens, just broadcast a minute of silence, okay?

What's that? You're not going to take my advice? No?
Well, Karma's a bitch.

As for Aarushi...a minute of silence.

Change for a dollar?

2008-05-13T00:31:00.001+05:30

Nope. It's for free.

12

2008-05-06T23:37:00.005+05:30

You know what the problem with the Indian education system is?
It swims like a brick in mindless waters.

Let me explain with an example, if I may. In fact, let's call it a minor comparison, shall we?
In the USA, there are no standardized school examinations. What you got an A+ for in a particular high school test, might only qualify to be a C- in the same test in another high school. Hence, you are required to give the SAT, which helps colleges determine where you stand, on a leveled plane. Ergo, colleges get to decide whether you're good enough for them or not, because you're getting tested on a national level. That's national, as in everybody in that country and/or everyone who shows up for that aptitude test.

In India, however, numerous ingredients appear to be out of place. At least to me.
They teach you different flavors of pretty much the same thing every year, and test your varying knowledge on whatever you've been taught. Come tenth, and more importantly, twelfth, CBSE (or ICSE, the State) begins to fiddle around and calls in the Board examinations. These tests, unlike their predecessors, are standardized, and pretty much leveled, too. Here, what you get an A for, is not something someone else will get an F for, for doing the same thing in another place.

Now, here's the problematic part.
If they've already set a standard, why do they continue to question us to determine which college we're good enough to set foot into? They've already tested our pencil scribbling skills on a national level, so why do they take all the weekends off of April and May to get us to
scribble some more?

Boy, they must really like us. They want our pictures, our signatures, and our fingerprints, too.

Trouble is...we don't like them.

Troubled times

2008-04-24T22:07:00.000+05:30

I think I've stepped into this small island in the middle of a large, possibly eternal ocean with nothing but a palm tree to cling to.

Wait, what was I saying?

My environment has begun to have a highly reactive effect on me. Everything I do, see or hear is constantly monitored and filtered by whatever it took to raise me to seventeen. As a result, I am a silent assassin to mainstream media who doesn't really do his job, but ends up arousing hatred for his foe.

Wait, what?

The so-called Board exams were over almost a month ago, but if you wear spectacles, you will observe that they still tend to go on, picking up a different name on the way.
Entrance tests almost have me on the edge of my seat, and I'm almost studying, which is troublesome, because this way, I will almost get into college, let alone something in the Indian Ivy League.

Damn.

But, what's really weird is me sitting down to document it on the web.
[you should be studying]
(you should be writing)
{you should try and manage stuff}
•why don't you shut up•
I'm going to sleep
:I don't need you:
//yeah, I hate you, too.

Wait, this doesn't look right.
Hold on, let me delete this...

Nothing special here

2008-04-16T20:02:00.005+05:30

I thought it would bring out anarchy and chaos. I thought people would gasp in disbelief, and say "say it ain't so!". I thought people would tell their friends, and their friends would tell their friends, and they would tell their friends to comment on my post and beg me not to stop.

But while I was dreaming, people were busy not paying too much attention to it.
And so, the April Fool's project didn't go as well as planned, with only a minute percentage of the populus daring to check and find that the hoax was a hoax.
However, the '100th post' chunk wasn't a lie. So if you read that earlier and thought it was a mere prank, do spray a little confetti into your surroundings in celebration of my hundredth post.

Now forget whatever I said above this sentence, and push yourself into today.

Toodles

2008-04-01T21:10:00.001+05:30

Hundred is a very special number to people. I know someone who feels that way. You probably do, too.
And when it comes to typing my hundredth blog post, I can't help but be part of this tradition.

It is a very special day, indeed. Not just because this is my hundredth blurb, but also because today is the first day after the completion of school. I am through with their examinations. I am done with their Boards. We've waved each other a nice goodbye. One that makes you want to say 'hello' again.

Anyway, since this is the hundredth post, I am forced to treat it with a little extra importance. And with treating it so, there is an important announcement I'd like to make.

I am not going to blog anymore.

I never knew I'd have to say it so soon, but they've told me that there is no better time than now.

So, adiós muchachas, and adiós muchachos. It has been extremely prodigious contributing my thoughts to the Internet, where not many people cared.

Good night everyone, and thank you for coming. This is your host for the evening, abhas1.

O grammar, where art thou?

2008-03-06T16:06:00.002+05:30

Straight out of your daily dose of news.

The first day, again

2008-02-29T18:37:00.002+05:30

*ting*

This is your captain on board the Boeing a19, and we're just 30 some days away from our destination. However, we seem to have run into somewhat turbulent winds so I'll have to ask you to fasten your seatbelts.
I hope you enjoy your journey...and uh...stay cool.

[crackle]
*ting*

What you asked for

2008-02-05T15:21:00.000+05:30

You know what people do when they see someone win, grow, or go through with any synonymous term? People congratulate them. They support them, and spray goodwill in the air nearby.
But that's not what you do in India.
When you see someone play a game of tennis, more better than worse, you begin to despise them. Surprisingly, you enroll your kids into tennis coaching. You put out falsetto pornogs on the internet. Perverts. Suddenly, fatwas pop out of nowhere, and you begin attacking them for playing tennis the way it is played. How smart. You threaten their doctors and send out letters that read: "U b3tt4 n0t cure HeR, cUz SH3's being IrRelIgIoUs an' shit. PlUS we'LL kill YOU too." in broken english. Give me one religion that tells you not to save a life. Not only that, you also attack them for every time they lose. Come out on the field and show me what you got. And then, when they're back, you take pictures of them with their feet on a table, and spew out a whole new problem. Amazing how the flag was positioned far away, and even showed up blurry in the picture. Focal length, anyone? Oh yeah, and then this dude shows up on TV and says "She's just playing for sympathy". Aren't you bouncing on television for short-lived fame?

Pshaw, now don't be shocked Sania's not going to play in India anymore. You should be happy.
This is what you asked for.

Ten forty and the art of zen

2008-01-24T20:24:00.000+05:30

Days like today don't come and go every day. They show up at your door only once, and even though they don't ring the bell twice, they tend to last long enough to remember. It's like a melodious series of events, really. A lot like life. In a nutshell.

Today, the calendar informed me that there isn't much time for school to end. Coincidentally, it'll take just as much time for everything else to begin, as they say.
But hasn't everything already begun?

Ponder.

Brushes

2008-01-14T16:16:00.000+05:30

(click on image for a higher resolution)

Just like in India..
By Kris Wilson.

Transmission

2008-01-07T00:48:00.001+05:30

Well, it's a shame to be a boy.

The picture tube told me that more than fifty guys got together and assaulted a couple of women. But that's no biggie, I've read about similar incidents in the paper. It's just that there was a slight difference in the number of guys when I last read something like that. Maybe there was a different locale, too, because I don't recall anything like this happening outside a 5-star hotel.
But apart from that, it's pretty much a familiar memory, and so is police action. They feel they've read and heard enough of the same report over and over again, and it's really no biggie. It's just, you know, molestation, everyday thing, kinda.

Maybe this is why Indian families long for a male child. So that he can grow up and molest people. So that he would get a fair share of wedding gifts (read dowry). Maybe it's because there's some sort of imaginary superiority in them; that somehow scoring a goal against the home team would help.

Don't blame me, I'm not spreading hate propaganda. It's not my fault soap scripts are deep fried in this oil. I'm not responsible if 1 in 5 movies tends to showcase this. If they're lying, and social evil has completely been eliminated, then you better strap that television set to a pack of dynamite, and light the fuse.
And if they've got the truth on TV, then it sure as hell is better to be bubbly like our scooters.

Glad to have you here

2007-12-07T20:33:00.000+05:30

Well, this world sure does know how to keep my blog alive.
Or at least Sindhu knows for sure.

So here you are, randomness straight from the lab.

I used to appreciate eating chicken wings. Now I don't.
I haven't charged my cellphone for two days. I'm going for the record.
This blog is no longer a 'few hundred words', it's 'a few hundred birthday wishes'. Psyche.
My yellow shirt tells you what cool looks like when I wear it.
I thoroughly dislike not working fast enough, yet it took me an hour to type my thoughts out on this.
If you don't already know, I like coffee better than tea. If you still don't believe it, I might have to spell it out for you.
I've been thinking hard to write the six things you just read. This one was an easy chip.

There ya have it, folks.

Whatever this means...

2007-11-27T21:28:00.000+05:30

Thought recollection didn't give abhas1 a hard time. He was hooked on to it like people on nicotine. What proved to be an adversary, though, was his contribution to some of those thoughts, which seemed to do what gasoline did to a hostile flame.
Menial jokes were acceptable to a certain degree, but laughing it all away and using speech as a spanner in the works didn't quite help. In fact, uncontrolled information coupled with confusion went its way to spew protectiveness, completely uncalled for, and the perception of such events as something ranging in the positive range could only be contemplated by those with somewhat of a myopic vision.

Abhas1 kicked the door open and draped himself in black.
After a little talk with the man in the mirror, he realized this was better off not being thought about.
A slight apology would do good, though.

--

You didn't get a word I said, did you?
Yeah, I was bored, too.

Blah?

2007-11-09T23:19:00.000+05:30

Well, it's that day of the year again; the time when you light up the night sky with fireworks and blow stuff up like it was in Iraq.

Blah blah blah, Happy Diwali and whatever.

Blah.

On a personal note

2007-11-07T23:43:00.000+05:30

Remember the seventh of November.
The day when truth saw no light,
yet was crazy enough to please, it might
continue still to linger on longer
like a bumper sticker's adhesive - stronger;
the day when possible it was
to possibly lie
and make people feel
like they thought otherwise;
the day she apologized
for something she did,
perhaps it left her demoralized;
the day she took her words back
maybe now
she wanted us back;
Remember, the seventh of November
the day I remembered V
and made poets gathered tremble;
the day I saw her eyes
like a man from December.

Soe what?

2007-11-03T22:57:00.000+05:30

At times, it just gets tiring.
The going gets tough, and you don't know if you're tough enough to keep going, to make it out.
At times, it just gets tiring to see yourself in the mirror, to see yourself draped in that blue cloth in hope of hitting the microphone again. It gets unassumingly unimaginable; to succumb to fear and know it, and pretend to escape it. At times, time seems to tick slower than it was a second ago, at times, unwillingly fast.
At times, you just lose it.
You see them on TV, the people who you think shouldn't really be; the news that isn't really still; the counter-reality runs. He's a superstar, and so is she, and so is that guy, and so is he, and that girl in red, and that guy with a plaid shirt.
At times, it's just plain annoying; to see what you wrote, read and re-read to see it still makes as much sense as it did before you read it.
An unusual shot of compulsive impulsiveness kicks in to synonymous behavior as sentences start to depend only on perception, and the reason you started out is only another vague memory.

And just as I felt it couldn't get worse, a kid woke up all the way on the other side. Silent transmission - State of Emergency.

About time

2007-10-04T22:07:00.000+05:30

I am just as unfamiliar with the concept of the Gregorian calendar as I am with the speed of time. However, I do know that today is Miss Soha Ali Khan's birthday, and the mere fact that I know someone's birthdate means that I must wish them.
So, happy birthday Miss Soha Ali Khan!

Apart from that, I am also aware that Markiv tagged me 22 days ago, telling me to write about ten things I miss from the 90s. Way back from the 90s.
Now, being unfamiliar with the concept of the Gregorian calendar, and being born in the decade that people feel is the new 70s, I may or may not be able to decipher my thoughts out clearly.

Anywho, here's the laydown.

Life without dedicated news channels
I don't even know where to start attacking this piece of poetry. You show shots from weird parties, people I don't know, and probably never will, and call it news. Then everyone wonders where my GK went. You show death like there's no tomorrow, and call it clean. Then critics attack movies and sitcoms for showing so much blood and gore. You show porn, semi-censored, but your commentary outdoes the visuals. Then people wonder why other people are so damn obscene. You call Rakhi Sawant every week, at a scheduled time. Then I wonder why so many people are informed these days. You feature clips from stand up comedy shows right after the original show is over on some other channel. Then I wonder why people pay for all these channels at all. It's all in the news, anyway.
Back in the 90s though, they didn't have much of this, because they didn't have so many news channels at all. They had their normal channels and a couple of hours of daily news.
I miss that.

Life without competitive coaching institutions
At this time of the new millennium, when coaching centers and tutors are spawning faster than the clones of Agent Smith (I know, it's so 2003), competition isn't the only thing rising. Not only have they armed us with knives to step into this cut-throat world, they've taught us how to cut throats, too.
There's no point in talking about how school is ultimately responsible for giving birth to tuitions, and I've said it a million times already.
However, way back in the 90s, you didn't have so many of these. Tuitions were meant for the boondock saints who were about to fail three years in a row, and were kept concealed.

Carelessness
Well, I was a kid way back in the 90s. I pretty much still am, but way back in the 90s, thought and action didn't much step in the same sentence. And way back in the 90s, when I was a kid, less thought to actions didn't do much harm either. You fight with a friend, you're back at playing with him in the next hour. You sleep and miss your favorite TV show, you get to see a re-run whenever it's on. You do whatever, you're back at whatever.

Carefulness
Well, I was a kid way back in the 90s. I pretty much still am, but way back in the 90s, I was careful. So was everyone else at that age. I remember doing all my homework and submitting it a couple of days before I really needed to. I recall sitting at the table to eat dinner every night. No later than 9 in the post meridiem. I also vaguely remember following this fitness regimen called go-outside-and-play-something-in-the-evening.
Boy, where has all the discipline gone?

No post-exam trauma
Since I was a kid in the 90s, examinations were only feared by senior citizens of the school...er, students. With no exams, not only were the vacations usefully consumed in doing nothing, there was no sudden guilt, pain, fear or illness following me after I went through a minor pop quiz.

8-bit/16-bit/DOS based games
I don't remember a day I left without guiding Dave to the next level. Sure, Halo is far superior, and I know GTA isn't just better, it's better, baby, but old skool still owns.

So without much understanding of the Gregorian calendar, I've gone ahead and reminisced about six things from the past, way back from the 90s, that I'd like to see in the future. And because of some thing or the other, I'm assuming Markiv will cut me some slack for not only taking so long to write but also for not writing it out to the finish line.

Sheep.

This belated thing is getting to me

2007-09-29T20:47:00.002+05:30

So what if the effects of alcohol are wearing off? So what if I don't like her as much as I used to? So what if she doesn't show up on TV as much as she did? So what if I couldn't care much less? So what if the thought continues to bother me? So what if this could possibly mean I'm growing up and leaving stuff behind? So what if these questions bounce on and off for eternity? So what if I haven't made much progress in getting over this system of self-contradiction? The mere fact that I know a person's birthdate means that I must wish them.

Hence, I should be courteous enough to wish them, with apologies for
taking so long.
So happy belated birthday Miss Rakshanda Khan.
And happy belated birthday to you to, Google.

And your post is up next, Markiv.

On second thought

2007-09-18T21:39:00.000+05:30

Happy birthday, dear!

In the nation of the

2007-09-12T09:50:00.002+05:30

There once was a teacher. A teacher like no other, but exactly like everyone else. A teacher not extremely old, but not very young either. A teacher who was wise, yet stupid.

She would go out every now and then, fill her mug with coffee, take a sip, and go back to analyzing mediocre question papers.
At times, she would have tea.

But amidst this seemingly action-packed and fast-paced world of hers, the truth had written monotony all over her life.

Tired of the way things were going, she woke up one morning and decided to do something far more adventurous - she decided to push her students into prostitution.

No, wait. Scratch that.

There once was a wannabe, a news channel and some old dude with vengeance on his mind.

As Mr. Vengeance Man began to discuss his plot, the other two predicted flawless popularity.
So the wannabe reporter magically transformed herself into a student of the teacher we spoke of not very long ago, and went on to share her blindfold with the world.
With a sham that could've lasted longer, she told everyone that the very teacher we spoke of not very long ago, was pushing kids into prostitution. Not only that, she also told us that she was one of those kids who had been pushed into prostitution by the same teacher we spoke of not very long ago.

Here's where the news monkey noticed that she couldn't do all of this by herself, so he closed his eyes with part of her bindfold, too.
Well aware of the fact that all of this was a lie, he put it on TV anyway.
Hey! This is India, and he can do anything he wants in the name of news!

Blah, blah blah.
Have you seen the new iPod Touch? And the new iPod nano? Man, it has
some evil dimensions...

Festivus, paint and television

2007-08-28T21:34:00.000+05:30

I wish I had a sister like that.
Or maybe, just hugging Miss Soha Ali Khan every now and then would do.

Or maybe, I should just do stuff cool enough for someone to hang stuff on a wall.

I think I'll stick with the hugs.

Unbreakable

2007-07-31T20:12:00.000+05:30

Back as kids, when I was kiddish-er and my age supported my behavior, I had some weird friends. The kind of kids who would be brainwashed by a movie and go out to do something completely kooky and bizarre; keepers of a stranger phenomenon who would say words they might never know the meaning of. They were the kind of guys who'd go wacky at times and take off the plugs of a tire. Deflation was fun, to them, at least.
Yeah, they were weird, alright.
What is intriguing, though, is that now, the same kids are responsible children who might end up making their parents proud one day.

And now, as I drive my writing to speaking about opinions that law might not approve of, I feel Sanjay Dutt was one such kid. Maybe deflating tires wasn't his thing, but I'm sure when he came about "possessing illegal weaponry", he wasn't completely aware of what he was doing, and I highly doubt he had any intentions of shifting to the dark side; it was just something kooky and bizarre, the keeper of a stranger phenomenon.

Sure, he was a bit wacky at that point of time, but he's not what he was. Not now.

The High Court is somewhat dull (read retarded). It takes them 14 years to make a decision. They might have been working day in and day out at the back end, but to me, they just suddenly popped up with what happened back in 1993.
And that's what makes it more painful.
Sanjay might have been a bit wacky at that point of time, but he's not what he was. Not now, 14 years later. Not now, when a deeper sense of maturity has caught hold of him.
And it wouldn't have hurt so much if he was to be put behind bars then, immediately after they felt something went wrong.

But they took their time.
And time didn't heal wounds.

Law seems to work with no sympathy either. It seems to work mercilessly. Even though it might be slow to deliver, it delivers justice. It seeks out mistakes from the past and makes sure no one gets away.
It seeks out people like a homing missile, and this time, it got Munnabhai.

He's unbreakable, I tell ya.

It gets better everytime

2007-07-21T20:33:00.000+05:30

There's nothing like a good 'ol game of tag to wake you up with the falling sun.
Like every other time I test my keyboard for drool resistance, a sudden shriek of "YOU'RE TAGGED" brings me back to life, alive to buy another keyboard to test for saliva immunity.

Anywho, here's the whatever.

1.(a) Pick out a scar you have..
Points finger to right side of forehead.
Pinpointed.

(b) ..and explain how you got it
Happened when I was a year old. At the joyous event of someone's party, I took the pain of picking up a rocking horse and climbing up a set of l-o-n-g, spiral stairs when I came tumbling down to a highly predictable fall.
Talk about turning the tables on joyous...heh...Hey! MY Horsie!

2. What does your phone look like?
Like a rectangle. With loads of other rectangles sitting inside it.
Looks to me like a normal phone. It's half black. And half steel-ish!
If that doesn't seem to be enough, do search google for "Nokia N70".

What does your phone look like?

3. What is on the walls of your bedroom?
Blue paint. And a clock. And a picture of me and my Dad. And me at Universal Studios.

4. What is your current desktop picture?
Earth. And I make my own wallpapers, thank you.
Join the abhas1 fanbase! Set his wallpapers as your desktop pictures!

But it used to be Billie Joe from Bullet in a Bible. Yeah, I digress.

5. Do you believe in gay marriage?
Do you?

6. What do you want more than anything right now?
Long-lasting celebrity status with minimal laziness and procrastin-abilities. And a statue of mine somewhere in the center of Delhi.

Have I ever told you that a boy has the right to dream?

7. What time were you born?
Sometime in the evening of the tenth day of the second month of the first year after MCMXC.

8. Are your parents still together?
Yes. What makes me wonder, though, is why you ask.

9. Last person who made you cry?
Can't recall, but I'm positive it was me.

10. What is your favorite perfume/cologne?
The Ferrari perfume. Whichever one.
Yeah, I'm a show-off. Bring it on, world!

11. What kind of hair/eye color do you like in the opposite sex?
I would have answered this question if you had the word 'smile' mentioned somewhere.

12. What are you listening to?

Holiday
Green Day
American Idiot

13. Do you get scared of the dark?
Naah. I'm used to it.
Muhahahahahahaha.

14. Do you like pain killers?
I'll tell you right after I take one.

15. Are you too shy to ask someone out?
Big time.
I would stare at someone all my life and never ask them out. At all.
So if you're reading this and you like me (woah! you do both?!), do choose to break the ice or it might never happen at all. At all!

16. If you could eat anything right now, what would it be?
Information? Naah, let's stick to chicken.

17. Who was the last person you made mad?
Teenage angst looks with disgust at everyone around.

18. Is anyone in love with you?
I don't know Mr. Question, I don't know.

And the next lucky contestants are:
Aakarsh
Avantika
Dhaval
Jang
Khadz
Sat
Sid
Sindhu

and whoever just read this.

Loadsa thanks Markiv, couldn't have come out of my state of blog-o-pause without ya!

I should be finishing my homework right now

2007-07-02T21:15:00.000+05:30

Waking up to the first day of school after the vacations is like waking up to a clear blue sky after last night's hangover party. You snap back to reality faster than you read this line.
The only difference is that last night's hangover party was more like a month long. And the clear blue sky was somewhat cloudy.

All of a sudden, Green Day stops strumming, and The Eminem Show reaches its 'outro'. All of a sudden, you're back at where you left off, but they're ahead from where they started. All of a sudden, you're in the yellow bus again, seated next to the window seat draped in that blue uniform.
Little did you know, you're not alone.
All of a sudden, the bell rings and people who seem to speak to all of the class at once line up outside your classroom door.
Before you know it, the next class has begun.
All of a sudden, 'I can handle it' becomes the less thought about thought.

And who puts surveillance cameras in school?

Surgery smurgery

2007-06-25T13:49:00.002+05:30

The guys back at Unofficial Standards, Inc. were kind enough to send me a do-it-all license. I'm guessing they took good note of my age and the ongoing events in this country, and let me do whatever.

So now, I can take over the wheel on the highway, even though I might have trouble going higher than the second gear. In fact, I think now I can drink vodka straight out of the bottle and dance it out in the rave scene. I think now I can even smoke, chew and eat tobacco. In fact, I think I can do all of that and drive at the very same time. In fact, I think I've been allowed to do all that since the day I first opened my eyes. It's just that I would be upsetting almost all the
real authorities, and might even end up in juvenille court.

But, who cares?
Driving around in the barrio with a genuine cuban cigar in my mouth definitely beats being 15, performing surgery and taping it all up, right Dhileepan?

Of all the days

2007-06-11T19:40:00.000+05:30

*tap, tap*

Mic che..
[feedback]

1..2..hel..hello?

Anyone here?

*tap*

Is this thing on?
Hey! Cleaning staff, sound technicians! Who wants freeform?
Shut up man, this stuff is useless inside your head.
Oh, come on people! Is this any way to treat an old-
Quiet! Light's out now. You feel like sittin' here all night?

(Walking to the door)
I think it's time to blow this thing, get everybody in it together. Those were the conspicuous ones, yet so intricately laced. Envy was an inevitable one, couldn't have countered it either way. It was too subliminal, and when it arose, I was asleep at the switch. Where was my bebop then...
Man, are you still talking to yourself?
Shut up and close the door. I'm leaving aren't I?

Days like these

2007-05-23T11:31:00.000+05:30

When you have memories of a place where you could hear music when there was nothing playing, when you realize that the only social circle you had existed there, when you start believing that those 5.5 hours were the only real fun in your life, when you start thinking that 'you can handle it' and use that place for everything other that what it was meant to be...

When you begin enjoying something that most other kids would rather stay away from, then, and only then, do you fill yourself with the bravery to walk up to the calendar and count the number of days remaining till the summer vacation gets over and you hit school doors again.

Drops of it

2007-04-26T20:41:00.000+05:30

How tall is tall, anyway?

Mercury has gone where no skyscraper has gone before. Electricity is being used at a rate faster than the man who flew faster than the speeding bullet. Power outages occur at a rate more frequent that that, and the bill shows up with digits that couldn't have been printed.

At this time of the year, the time when heat has become capable of melting heat, a glass of water provides the satisfaction that washes away all other desires.
You no longer wish to eat food, you just want a glass of water, topped with ice. Audiophiles are willing to forget their headphones to the relief that a glass of moisture throws at them. Kids forget who's what and the where he is, just to dip their heads in the swimming pool. Perverts kick their letching habit, even, all for a perennial source of hydrogen dioxide, preferably close to freezing point.

Now back at the FHW, we understand your problems, and just to tell you how much we love you, we're going to hand out a recipe that even Sprite can't beat.

Take a glass of water and squash half a lemon on top of it. Gravity will do the rest.
Take spoon and stir.
Add sugar to taste.
Take spoon and stir. Again.
Stare at glass for a couple of seconds.
Drink.

I did it right, and it came out tasting pretty good. If a science student can do it, you can definitely do better.

13 is unlucky for some

2007-04-21T15:38:00.000+05:30

Lbh pbhyq'ir tbggra njnl jvgu zheqre lrfgreqnl. Guvf jbeyq jnf gbb bofrffrq jvgu gur 'jrqqvat bs n qrpnqr'.
Fpubby vf pbzvat gb n tenqhny naq hajnagrq ohg arprffnel raq.
Vaqvn arrqf orggre cbyvgvpvnaf. Enuhy Tnaquv vf bhgfcbxra.
Vf vg bire sbe Fnavn?
Jurer vf zl yvsr tbvat, naljnl. V qba'g fghql ng nyy. Qb V rira jnag gb nalzber?
Jung vf gur VVG ernyyl?
Fb jung vs V yvxr n pbhcyr bs tveyf?!
Jung? JUNG?

Using a little known technique that Sat is well versed with, the amoeba spits out a minute percentage of his understandable feelings.

The year sans successors

2007-04-12T22:47:00.000+05:30

The first day of the last year started off without much of a celebration, and I didn't even realize any sort of difference between this and its predecessor, apart from the set of stairs I have to climb now. And with that said, the seventh day, without much need to mention, is kind of boring. Especially chemistry.

I found my mind in a brown paper bag, within.
I walk down the hallway in this newfound floor after I change the tense. For some reason, purple smoke and odor fill the north-west corner, the place that perfectly opposes the laboratory. I chuck grammar and meaning out the window, and then, the alarm screams "Wake up!" in my face.
The air conditioner tries its very best, yet I still wake up to face the Fahrenheit touching the Hawaiian temperature.

This is the XII, people, the ex-aye-eye.

Moments, II

2007-03-30T22:12:00.000+05:30

In one fell swoop, all that is taken away. How it happened is something you'll probably never find out, but you don't care anyway.
You revisit the sea of sorrow you were previously drowning in, and you now wear lenses that make you color-blind.

'No miracles happen' is the first thought you come across when you begin losing faith in everything you had it in. Veins pop out and you push yourself under a pillow, calling it your best escape.
What you fail to realize is the distance you can run away.

Life is complicated, and I may not have described it well enough, but some moments will tell you what I couldn't.

Moments

2007-03-29T21:45:00.000+05:30

You walk into your home, tired and worked up. Anything can spark off a nuclear meltdown within you. You no longer feel home is a sweet home, and you'd rather walk out right this instant.
But choices leave you with no other option. You stay, and you sulk in within yourself, regretting every moment of your existence. Right now, you can't even think straight, because anger has begun driving you, and you are no longer in control of the wheel.

You don't know why you're angry, and as the clock moves forth, the reason becomes like a landscape being shot in macro.
As the cause begins to blur, actions seem to sharpen. You feel it's all just a waste, and you give up.
You kick the can out the window.

Then, a surprising turn of events turn the whole table that you began playing at. It's like your spades just turned into a trinity of hearts. Anger begins rushing out of you like a whirlpool, and colors fill your view. Home is suddenly the sweetest place to be, and life...it couldn't have been better.
Up till now, it's just been a load of similes and metaphors. But when a smile pushes away all that angst, you know miracles do happen.

Life is beautiful, and I may not have described it well enough, but some moments will tell you what I couldn't.

They're coming

2007-02-20T18:19:00.000+05:30

Whenever I sit down to write something positive about the government, the police and the like, I feel crippled, and to a certain extent, I move as fast in writing as a snail in the Olympics.
Maybe it's the afterimage of the products of the RGV Factory (among others that portray the law from the dark side) that has influenced me and left me unable to speak out about the fact that all of them aren't evil and/or corrupt.
The truth is that they're all not bad. Some of them do worship their uniforms, and agree to put service before self. The only problem is that some of them are corrupt, and if movies were to be trusted, they've grown in number in the recent past.
Nevertheless, ex dolo malo non oritur actio.

Those who don't resolve to bribes to make an extra penny, are the true heroes. They're the ones you can trust and call for help, because you'll know for sure that they're coming. They're the Saints, and the Saints...well, they're coming.

New Scanned Document 002

2007-02-20T18:11:00.000+05:30

Britney may have long lost it, but has the press, too?

This is the front page of Times Of India, perhaps the Student Edition.

Luck Today?

2007-02-19T16:45:00.000+05:30

I'd love to see this turn out truthfully.

Valentime

2007-02-14T20:50:00.000+05:30

Normally, you wouldn't see me talking about Valentine's day. I'd call it one of the useless celebrations out there, but that's just what you'd hear me say on normal occasions.
This occasion isn't one so.

For those who can make it possible, I suggest you go out with two girlfriends instead of one. And those who can go out with two, I'd recommend three. For those who can't, make sure you have at least one special person to spend time with.
And once you're out, make sure you hold hands and walk all over the park, sit on all the benches and do whatever it takes to pull in Shiv Sena's attention. Prove their foundation of beliefs wrong, because they don't realize it themselves.

Before I move any further, how's about we sit down and introspect about where all this is going?
Notice that Shiv Sena fails to work on emotions, and it has a reason for every one of its actions. Although, either they lose all confidence in front of the news cam. or have no clear reasons for what they're doing at all.
One of them reports that V-Day should be stopped from being "celebrated" because it's harming the Indian culture. If that's true, then he must also dislike boys from meeting girls in the first place, and to that, his first target must be the co-ed schooling system. So, why not just make boy and girl schools separate?
The other suggests that V-day is a display of vulgar activities. Really? What's so special about V-day at that? Is there anything that's keeping me from doing that on a regular Wednesday? Or is it allowed every other day except Valentine's time? If not, then why not take a brigade marching around everyday and stop male-female eye contact?
And the finest one of them all, "The boy likes the girl, and the girl gets married to someone else, but the boy remains lovestruck, so their parents suffer."

Perhaps Shiv Sena is just a conspiracy; a group of people who never had any luck in their love life, and they envy those who have someone to smile at. Perhaps they cannot bear all this, because they never had all this, in spite of wanting all this.

This Valentine's, say no to Shiv Sena.
Prove them wrong, guys. "Celebrate" Valentine's all week long.

When XVI

2007-02-10T12:58:00.000+05:30

One year ago, I felt I needed to do more. I felt the need to work harder just to feel better inside. Planning and thinking went over the top, but actions were minutely behind in the race.
One year ago, I turned 15.
Now, I'm at 16, and I'm still left feeling the same way.

Being the amoeba that I am, fission is my birthright; I've split myself into 3 parts. Now, take this not as a way of reproduction, but as different mes to different situations.
The first me wants to advance, evolve, work hard and move forth to hitting the spot as the revolutionizer. He knows what he wants, and he knows he'll get it. In fact, he's devised more ways than one to gain access to all this.
Teil zwei is the new kid on the block, and he'll stay that way for most of eternity, for his beliefs revolve around a statement many refer to as "but I don't wanna grow up!". He's fresh off the course guys, be kind.
And then, there was a third.
Best we mention less about this guy here, for we've already heard his voice for over a year. He just wants to wait a little longer before he could start doing his work. Procrastination be his weapon of choice, he can't wait to push life into later. And when later comes, he still doesn't want to do anything...

Put me on a raincheck for far more vivid details, time now for transparent confetti.

Error 404

2007-01-30T00:21:00.000+05:30

We're currently experiencing some technical difficulties.

The FHW will soon be back with its regular broadcasting. Do check again later.

MMVII

2006-12-31T14:48:00.000+05:30

The 31st day of December is to a year what a period is to a sentence. It's that one simple day that marks the end of the road for a little over 360 days. Like the dotty little piece of punctuation, it does more than just mark an end. It completes the sentence, too.

Looking back, it's another year that has slipped past amazingly fast, spawning it's very own list of things that we'd like to see more of, and things we can't wait to end.
Starting with the launch of new cars that failed to grab much attention and going mid-way to pushing my life into 11th grade. Going from justice denied to justice served (read snagged). Shifting from the Vista beta to the Vista Corporate; but still bet(t)a with a lot of bugs. And finally from things that went on and off to things that went on after Saddam left the scene - re-runs...
This was one long sentence, no doubt about it. But given a chance, who wouldn't want to read it again?

Rest assured, though; It is when the period terminates a line, that it makes room for another to begin. With '07 not many hours away, I'd like to wish you all a happy new year.

Confetti, anyone?

Incomplete

2006-12-27T13:25:00.000+05:30

____ ____ is about Christmas. _ don't know ____ to say.
What _ wished for __ ____ strictly between
me and
Santa.

We'll ____ out if I've been a good boy all year or ___ pretty soon.

_ hope the red guy got you what you wanted.

_____

Hard water

2006-12-19T20:37:00.000+05:30

I interrupted myself while being swallowed in a piece of work to report something that had me feeling the room was filled with laughing gas.

Now, is it just me, or are the soap operas really so soapy that soap feels it's being given a bad name? The answer seems pretty obvious now that I've made the question out in clear letters.
They are soapy.

Little kids have their own and (allegedly) mothers-in-law have their favourites. Call me a cynic if you think it fits into place, but I can't stand watching one of those oh-so-K-full-shows. The same old effects, the same old sound samples...It just gets irritating.

I don't know what they make these shows for, and I can't figure out what they're trying to tell me through it. A girl goes through a ton of pangs and finally gets married to someone whose family is hell-bent on tearing the marriage apart and there's a not-so-distant uncle who wants all the family property so he teams up with his wife and begins scheming and backstabbing but in the end it finally comes back to where it started from originally. Is that what the writer comes up with and tells the director? "That's gold..."?
They could surely do better.

Point two. Why have they made it their mission to copy music off movie soundtracks? Other than that, why do they have the same stale and dilapidated sound effects going on in the back for different shows on different channels? The same ["swoosh!" zoom camera into a couple of still, lifeless faces], ["cymbals!" zoom out of face and make surprised expression]. What in the world does that mean? Is that a dramatic situation where I'm supposed to gasp in horror?
Whatever it is, I can't get myself to stop laughing when it happens.

Three. Sometime ago, a new revolution was in sight. A breath of fresh air for people who watched TV as it was, because some guys created a show that wasn't based on saas-bahu (I hate that phrase) sagas.
2 months down the line, every other show was like that. "Wow! a middle class girl, who has dreams!". Fine. New it was, and the concept unchallenged, but they went back to their roots in no time. Stretching it out like chewing gum. arggh!

The list won't stop and it goes back to last Christmas, mind you. It's tiresome for me to watch something like that with so much depth and count out what all it's flaws are.
And before you creators start criticizing me for saying all this and begin asking me to make something better, I have a suggestion.
Make something that's good. Something that's believable and realistic, because the way you're going, you get unrealistic the harder you try to be real. It's not without reason that you've been pigeonholed.
To sum it up in a couple of points, be original and honest. Don't make something just because you think it's going to fetch TRP, and then stretch it once the show becomes popular.

And if you were, by any chance, thinking how I could say all this after liking an actress who acts in these shows, then all I have to say is that she's far better off hosting shows.

If you're still reading...

2006-12-12T14:18:00.000+05:30

It's hard to step out of silence once you realize that you had abandoned a place you used to frequent. It gets harder to come back to your blog if you remember that you still haven't wished Miss Mirza, and it's a little too far down the calendar to reach for a belated card. And it's as good as concrete once you realize that you were gone, and you were gone for no good reason.

I'd rather not waste our time by reaching for a sad excuse for an excuse.
I wasn't here, and many of you might suggest yourselves into thinking that I was studying. Others might believe it's just the hangs 'n pangs of the 11th grade life. To a few, it might be the 'ol writer's block.
But there's more to the story than our sides; there's the right excuse, and then again, there's the truth.
The truth be told: I just couldn't write, and I doubt I can now. Maybe you can see the tremors of my laziness in this piece of writing. I can't say for sure, but abhas1 is looking for a way back into the building.

Late again

2006-10-25T15:07:00.000+05:30

Too bad procrastination has got the better of me. Too bad I plan to study and write, but end up saying "Tomorrow for sure". Too bad it's too late.

Time never stops for anything and I'm far from being an exception. Nevertheless, here's wishing you guys a Happy 'Belated' Diwali and Eid.

Unlike last time, I can't really comment on the pollution level in Delhi because of an assorted candybox of reasons.
I wasn't here, for one, and while I wasn't, I noticed that Diwali in Bhopal is more noisy than it is toxic. Secondly, the rising dengue fever had been eating out too much life, so it would actually be helpful to have a smoky rise. Go CO.

Happy "belated" Diwali again. And Eid, that too.

Today

2006-10-16T21:31:00.000+05:30

Yes, it's me

2006-10-04T22:17:00.000+05:30

I think I've lost track of time.

I slept at 2 in the a.m. yesterday because I didn't feel like going to bed. A lot of questions have been popping up in my head lately. And the head, well, it's being dominated by everything other than it's supposed to be - books. This post won't be making much sense. It lacks everything. Words are being crumbled up. Lke somtings eatin into thm. A bug.

I don't understand what it is that's going on. I've been spinning in my thoughts and they've pulled me in again. Once again. All over again. I am repeatedly reminded of my days in amidst the red-brick walls. I see my self in the winter uniform. Wrapped in a green blazer. Fog. There's a foggy environment. I'm with an old friend of mine.
The wind blows and I rub my hands together. Physics. Friction. Heat. I like it.
The wind blows in my face. I curl up inside my coat, but you can't make that out because you can only see me standing.

Most of these sentences are pulled out from a 1st grade book or are fragments.

Don't worry, I'm alright.

That cause for celebration!

2006-09-27T23:44:00.000+05:30

Now, let's sit and talk about the good stuff in life.
You see, there are days that just go by and then, there are days that hang on to you like chewing gum. I don't really know what I'm trying to say here and am far from knowing which one of those days it is, but being part of "the good stuff" in life, today's September 27.

To the inexperienced eye and an unaware calender, today might be pretty useless. But to those like me, today cannot go without being mentioned. Yes-sir-ree-bob, it's the day.
Take a guess and have a look around.
It is because today happened 8 years ago, that you are able to find anything on the internet. It is because today happened a bunch of years ago, that we (or at least I) can be happy watching certain TV shows.

I can't hold it in any longer, so come along people, shout out loud! Happy birthday Miss Rakshanda Khan! And Happy birthday to you too, Google!

iPods on a Plane

2006-09-27T13:24:00.002+05:30

Ever since Apple introduced the iPod, it's been racking our curiosity. The big Q is revolves around how they fit so much space into such a tiny shell. But surprisingly, there's a bigger Q.

And now, it's been answered.

iPod + Toilet = Ouch.

It all started when I got out of my seat to go to the bathroom. I went to the bathroom, washed my hands, and returned to my seat. A little while later the two stewardesses on the flight crossed each other in the aisle. They had a quick conversation that I was in earshot of.

"I locked off the front lav. There's something in the toilet that's preventing it from flushing. Run some water and see if you can clear it." My face immediately turned red. The seat cover! I thought. It must have been too big to flush! I should have thrown it out!

I was so embarrassed. I tried to act normal ... I took a sudden interest in the contents of the seat pocket in front of me, acted nonchalant and all. I watched as the stewardess got on her hands and knees in the lavatory and did unfathomable dirty work.

Sometime later, I decided it would be best if I forgot the whole thing happened, so I went to put on my headphones and drown myself in iPod music. But ... no iPod. I panicked, checked my other pockets... [continue reading]

A little word of advice: Don't try this iPod experiment at home.

Surf's Up

2006-09-21T13:31:00.000+05:30

Little Billy was ahead and head of the game when it came to having fun. Online gamers knew him as ‘lil Army’, and chat rooms hung him up on the wall of fame. That is, until next morning, when him mom woke him up and told him about the test later that day. “I hope you were up studying all night, Billy”.

Little Billy was behind. In fact, he wasn’t going to touch passing grades with a ten-foot pole. That wasn’t the first test he flunked, and it surely wasn’t going to be the last.
Put Billy aside, it’s the truth that circles most children today. According to what they believe, “School ain’t cool” and “Online rules!” Making use of the information highway to gather around everything but information is what they do. But who is to blame?
Of course, these kids are part of the guilty, but as guilty as they are, parents cannot be left out.

Kids need to instill a sense; a positive knowledge to buckle up and start studying. They couldn’t be more wrong if they think that the Internet will keep them alive. And parents should be trusted to knock some sense into them. They cannot just go and watch TV and expect their kids to study behind their backs, because that would be injustice to both.

Apart from parents and children, it’s school that needs a little cleaning up. Teachers were never told to expect that kids study at tuitions, but that’s what they do. They must ensure that everyone gets attention and must make learning fun. Play Mathematical games and do a Geography quiz to make it sound interesting, because kids resort to escapism only if there’s something they don’t understand. If they don’t understand, it’s not interesting. And if it’s not interesting, “Billy’s gone online”.

And Kids must be taught, because they are the future of the nation. Without studying and only sitting online, the only degree they’ll get is a false one. False certificates will cause insufficient knowledge to overflow, and you might end up getting operated on by a doctor who can’t tell a kidney from a brain.

Isn’t all that worth teaching your kid about the value of education?

It started today

2006-09-18T20:39:00.000+05:30

Any more later, and blogspot would have become so foreign to me, that my body's immune system would have started attacking it.

Quite frankly, they've begun the attack, and I'll have to move out of my absence so that I can begin to step foot into a stage of recovery.
Anyway, I don't really know how many of you have gone by what the title suggests, but last year, today, FHW came into action.

Finding the scene being focused on blogging, I started out by researching on what blogs actually were and chanced to hit Blogger.com. Read a couple of pretty looking "web-logs" and hit myself with the bravery to slap my own blog into cyberspace. But now, I recall, that before I actually went up to set my blog's URL, I was afraid to pick my own ID; I cancelled the blog making process twice, but ended up satisfying my curiousity.
I finally decided that if I ever were to write about something, it just couldn't be conformed to one thing, hence the title - "a few hundred words" - something about not just one thing.

So there you have it, folks, from writing everywhere to somewhere, about the Indian Government, to Sania Mirza, from CBSE's delayed action, to Delhi streets, from Miss Khan, to poetry; that's 60 posts, around 14,400 words and a round off 210 comments.
Call me a show-off, I've somehow been pulled into the regions of GlobalVoices (ha!) and have been added to IndianPad, anonymously, by anonymous people.

Call this a cause for celebration (#7), for I can see confetti filling my view.

Freedom!

2006-08-15T19:20:00.000+05:30

Some time over 60 years ago, Mahatma Gandhi realized what he was fighting for - a nation that now aims to become a superpower by 2010; a nation that has patriotism and extremism growing day by day, every minute, every hour of the day.

An aftermath of the RDB effect, people realize that the immediate government is suddenly responsible for any and everything that goes wrong - be it a man trying to commit suicide or a person being fired from his job.
Of course, it's reason enough to think that way when a series of events, circling criminal cops and addicted politicians, hits the front page like an axe hitting a tree. But is it reason enough to call it out on a protest and rush up to India Gate?

I, for one, support the fact that we are moving to a stage of awakening, but blaming the system responsible for everything wrong just won't cut the mustard. In fact, what it will do is make it worse, because by blaming it, we forget the fact that we're the ones who choose and make up the system, but end up throwing our fists in the air with anger moving in the wrong direction.
We, as the next generation, have in us what it takes to move India to what it dreams about, therefore it is our duty to understand that running up to national monuments to show a sign of protest doesn't do what we actually want it to do.

Protest is a weapon to reckon with, and by using it like there's no tomorrow, we are actually not going to be able to use it tomorrow. And today, just give it a break.
Forget the fact that half our politicians don't know Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi by his name. Lose the controversy that falsely circles remix gals. Let go of the belief that a candle march up to The Gate will speed up justice.
Today, look up to the orange, white and green, and salute it for what it is - The Bird of Gold which isn't far from sunshine; the nation that produces more engineers and doctors than any other; the nation that first bribes and then shows what they've caught on hidden camera.
The nation and the nationality that I'm proud to be? Sure, India rocks!

So today, give it a salute. Let your eyes speak out Vande Matram, and scream out "Lose Control!". Today, go ahead and fly a kite.

Out of exile

2006-08-14T14:39:00.000+05:30

Alright.

So maybe the 'brief exodus' lasted a bit longer than expected, but hey, I say amen to 'better late than never'.

And now, as I look back, I see that it's been a little over a month since I became one of the men in blue, got heroic enough to step foot in the yellow bus everyday and have the pale rust walls blur into vertigo around me. I just got so caught up with stuff that incidents came and passed me by, but I just sat there and did nothing.
This nothing stood a little too literal and began to creep not only into my academic life, but also my eyes.

Procrastination must be dealt with.

During this time I had with my pen and paper, I wrote a little rhyme revolving around my new school to break the little leave I took from blogging. Unfortunately, the only part of the poem you'll see is an Error 404 - that, because today's *ahem* incident is definitely going to put it off. Off. Off.

And hurray! I finally got Tagged!

I am thinking about: School; Exams in particular, which met commencement today.

I said: "Hi". Then the teacher told me to go back to my seat.

I want to: Do lots of stuff. Most of which is dependent on my computer, which is yet to be fixed. Oh, and I want to study. And score high. And make my parents proud.

I wish: A miracle would happen. Today. Right now would be pretty good.

I hear: Sounds, and play them in synch and order till something strange that qualifies to be a tune hits me. Then I wake up the next day and see that I've forgotten it completely.
Oh yeah, and I hear the music flow when I let my iPod blow.

I wonder: Am I doing this right?

I regret: Not putting enough time into books, which could possibly spell a much better school year.

I am: An AMO3BA, me? A fan of Miss Khan and Miss Mirza? Me? My name would be mud as far as they'd be concerned.

I dance: ...or do I?

I sing: Anything, anywhere. Well, not everywhere.

I cry: Silently.

I make with my hands: Victory and loss; I make with my hands what language cannot speak.

Rock on \m/.

I write: What you're reading here.

I confuse: Wait. I'm confused...

I need: A feeling of doing stuff right. I need to achieve so I can plead my parents to buy me some cool e-gadget.
And I need to smile and be happy. :)

I Tag:
Oooh. This is going to be good.
A-lite
Avanti!
Jang!
Sat
Sid
The mocker

Glad to be tagged Free-S. You woke me from Blog-o-pause.

The whole system is falling apart

2006-07-19T18:12:00.000+05:30

Blogspot off India Pak War Terrorism Lives Hopes Dreams Desires School Hard Drives Failure Death Destruction Salvation Worry Fear Abhas AlphaONE series60 Corruption Hands Friends Ray of Light Smoke Poems Life Scam Movies Aftermath Records Copies Homework Refusal Girls Rejection Misconception Thanks Gratitude Words Amoeba Shift new school people politics Blues Time Loss God Prayer Rap Punk poking fun at me Crush Like Love Talk [HELP] Message Sania Mirza Creations Art work Hard SMaRk Photoshop Flash all lost deceit Default Ability Smile Stars in the eyes Holding hands Direction the wrong way the right way Shadenfraude Darkness Greed Want Need Live News Rakshanda Khan Audience Applause Greetings Boos Chewed up Does it end? Does it begin? Wait struggle Jack dude cool Touch Spins Vertigo Claustrophobia Check Pass preparation Zero Exam Test Hand strengths Weaknesses possessiveness obsessive forgetfulness cheat loop

The attack

2006-07-11T20:38:00.000+05:30

A certain disease has taken to reproducing itself in thin air, with a motive to infect multiple Operating Systems. And as fortune would have it, the systems most affected lie in my vicinity.

It was first a Symbian based, “series 60” communication device, and now, all my art, all my creations and all of my work seems to be locked in a Hard Disk Drive, hanging out in a zombie state.
And about those systems crashing and reporting all sorts of “colored screens of death”, the magic 8-ball points to a lesser chance of recovery.

Now, I’m looking for a way to interpret this in a positive manner.
Sure, it must’ve just happened because someone out there realized that I needed to focus on ‘the 11^th grade life’. Maybe the Amoeba just needed some time off from those bright pixels, but since he refused to move his eyes away from the screen, the screen moved itself.
Well, I understand where this is going, but I hope there’s a way to prevent all my data from being lost. I hope there’s a secret hiding place for all those PSD files, deep underground to escape any damage caused by nuclear fallout.

You see folks? This is a learning experience. I learned it the hard way, but you can choose to learn from my mistake. I should have had backup.
The phone should have been backed on the computer, the computer should have been backed on a separate hard drive and the separate hard drive should have gone into backing in a similar pattern, being part of this strange loop.

Zieg Heil to HDD failure and bugs, for they took me back to the basics, back to the pencil and back to the paper.

Those pale rust walls

2006-07-02T22:07:00.000+05:30

Deep inside, I was afraid this might happen. The whole school year, this piece of information bounced on the walls of my subliminal mind, but I refused to accept that it might ever happen.

Conversely, it happened.

Moving away from those red brick walls so suddenly was meant to minimize the pain of leaving the school in the first place, but the fact that I've acquired a Transfer Certificate still hasn't really found its way in my head.
I can't really figure out what happened, and it all seems to be happening so fast.

Within a span of a little over 48 hours, I noticed I'd never be amidst those red bricks again and tomorrow, I'll have to place myself in a bus, taking me to the "pale rust" walls of a new world.

And as it is with every new turn, the body hesitates to accept the change it faces. That is exactly what makes me tell my Mom and Dad that "I don't wanna go!" but eventually, "I'll hafta go".
Well then, that's that. Goodbye 'ol red brick walls, it was surreal spending time amidst you.

I hope you regret not having me around.

Because it takes a man to be a Dad

2006-06-18T21:07:00.000+05:30

Here's to the man. The man I live with and the man who loves to live with me. To the man who smiles through every adversity, but loses heart with the falling prices of the newest gadget he's bought. Here's to the man who promises to spend time with me, but work follows him around. To the man who taught me how to live life, while tackling his own.
Here's to the man, who raises a toast to my victory, while supporting me through every fall.

Here's to the man who I call dad. Happy Father's Day!

Just buying tears...

2006-06-14T21:16:00.000+05:30

Rahul Mahajan. I've been hearing that name quite a lot of times for the past couple of months. The man seems to be going through some rough times.
Who knew that he'd be crying out into a film noir jail, instead of shedding tears for his father's end?
In fact, I actually believe that I'd be shaking my head if you asked me if his father's death affected him at all.
Look at the guy. You'd think one would break the addiction after something like that happens.And now, the best chance he has is to try and spend time in rehab.

The red eyes he looked through and the green he spent, all for making his head cold like the hawaiian temperature, and spin around in rave amidst X, has gotten him well from point A to point B to point minus C. What else is strange is that AIIMS also agreed to conceal his information, but you know what happens to lies later -- it got busted.

What annoys me most, is the fact that the truth can be bought.
In a society like ours, where one of us decides to rape a girl or kidnap a little kid behind dark glasses, there's a ticket on tinted car windows. Unfortunately enough, there's a way to bribe our way out.
Sure, there's hundreds out there, going high on crack as you're reading this. Then why is it that there is even a chance that their doctor tells the police that there are no drugs involved?

A cop is there to fine you when you don't wear a seat belt to make sure you wear the belt next time on, and not just to do so when there's a chance you may get caught. And then there's the cop, who loves to be called a policeman, for letting people go off for a few hundred bucks, and for pulling over people and asking for a ten when they've done nothing at all.

Usually, for posts like this, you'd see me crying about the future collapse. This time, I say, we are the ones who can change the way the story goes.

I'd like to conclude this by adding a little rhyme I wrote sometime ago.

That was today by abhas1

From the white of angel wings,
to the black of scorpion stings,
I'd be walkin' god,
amidst a crowd of fraud,
where "cease peace" is the GenX scream,
and top-notch evils are the society's cream,
a starless night is longed to be a dream,
before getting into the media mainstream,
in a world like this,
there's only words like "shit",
your only chance to seize the moment,
before you get hit,
dog eat dog,
limelight hogged by a hog,
a challenge to clear the corruption smog,
salvation for poor?
only predicted by the wrong,
there's a fire to be fanned,
criminal cops to be banned,
there's a mission at hand,
choices, challenges and,
hypocrites on our land,
so be sure of what you do,
so you don't end up like those corrupted few...

Finally, a cause for celebration

2006-05-27T17:04:00.000+05:30

Going to sleep at three in the morning and waking up at six has a feeling.

Then again, going to sleep at three in the morning after taking a few shots of insomnia (mixed with excitedness and anxiety, mind you) straight to your head, and waking up a few moments before the clock hits six a.m. only to find out that you've scored 88% in Science and 93% in English has a completely different feeling altogether.

But ten hours after something like that happens, the feeling starts to drift away.
Let my confetti not go to waste, and spread it in the air before this day becomes yesterday -- Board results are out.

After much pain and a wincingly strange onslaught of depressing thoughts that used to hit my mind, this is a much needed cause for celebration to pull me out of the sea of sorrow that I was drowning in, not to forget this is one celebration post in a long time.

Not much of a celebration to you, but hey, this goes in my record for the first time.
See the confetti in the air?

And then the results...

2006-05-25T22:18:00.000+05:30

I really love to stretch it out, don't I?

The Sisters are In...

2006-05-20T16:43:00.000+05:30

Sometime ago, I decided to walk alone on a poorly lit street, not many miles away from my imagination. I, pretty soon, made it a hobby, and started enjoying the sound that hit my ears when I rubbed the soles of my shoes against wet gravel.
As time moved on, that darkness started drowning me into screams that filled the empty road. The street moved out of my head, and soon became the capital of India.

Girls tell me they won't do higher education here. They say they'd rather not do college from here. They tell me it isn't safe here; they tell me that Delhi isn't safe for women.
It's only right what they said. Nobody deserves to live a half-dead life.

It's getting harder to spot a single week (read day) without "rape" being mentioned in the news.
One day it's that boy from across the street, the second it's those bullies from college and another day, it's your neighbour. Any guesses for who's next?

For a society like this, I blame something that it reflects and affects most - the movies.
Ban the smoking, and pay a few hundred bucks to watch something that's bound not have a bad effect on society - a mediocre porn movie.
Why does something explicit manage to get a "U\A" at a maximum and smoking cannot be shown on-screen? Is it because smoking is something the young are bound to copy? Then won't they copy something that fires up their libido?
I assume that is what they are doing, and that is why they are watching that movie in the first place. And trust me, there's nothing that will hit more of the masses than a movie, be it in a dark multiplex or via a pirated CD.

Because that's a medium most of this generation looks up to, smoking has been canned, but why is it not the same with sex that makes them even more desperate?
As for the nicotine, ask the boy in 10th grade who's already going up in it's smoke.

Heck, and as long as you are throwing in reservations in college for "backward" people who stand tall at our level, put some in for the ladies, too. They're going to be part of the minority once feticides and sexual abuses reach surface.

Copycat dolls

2006-05-11T18:12:00.001+05:30

I believe plagiarism requires a lot of dishonesty. For whatever it is that someone does, they must ultimately end up lying to themselves in order to subdue their soul's voice, which does not allow them to do so.
Either that, or maybe they are so deeply in love and are so heavily inspired by someone, that they decide to copy them, and plan to go even farther than they did...

Blame Kaavya for pushing me into writing this, for I assume she was only trying to do what Bollywood had being doing for so much of history -- borrowing a movie's plot, without much permission, and showing them to Indian eyes and all that, while crossing their fingers and hoping no one would notice.
And that's the flaw, because people will eventually find out, and that's exactly what happened with her.

To top it off, plagiarism causes a man to completely lose all long-term sense. Either that, or they never really thought about the future at all.
When someone copies to be better, they obviously have the intention of not letting anyone know about it. And say, if they get what they want, and nobody notices, then somewhere in time, everybody will do the same. And if everybody becomes the same, where will new ideas come from? The masses will then grow out of the tired, tried, and tested same everythings! And they will finally demand something new and original, and thus, at that time, anything new will stick and the copies will end up losing. Again.
So, plagiarism will not only end up destroying the world, but it will also kill itself!

Ring in the future collapse on this one?

Sand in the eyes

2006-04-29T20:07:00.000+05:30

Run up to your school everybody. Run up to hell's gates, run away from your classmates.

Why is it that a boy must come home from school, only to find his mother forcing food in his mouth, all because he doesn't want to end up being late fore the bell rings at a second school? Hell yes, I'm talking about coaching, and while I'm at it, put in those tuitions and extra classes, too.

School is not what it used to be, or so I believe. You can't go there alone and expect to learn what you need. And what's worse is that every teacher knows it, and so does every student.
Kids decide that they'd rather not waste their time in school studying, and brush up on their facts at a nearby coaching institute. And problem two originates because teachers know this, and keeping it in mind, they also go: "what the heck..."

I was told that school was meant to teach, and if this is what's going on, then the whole purpose of school now is to make us go through the all-India Board exam and provide a graduation certificate.

Why is it that kids rush to small, crowded tuitions? Are they more concerned about their future? Do schools not know that a majority of their science students want to end up in the IIT? If they do, then why does one prefer coaching? Why in the world does school not do what those institutes are doing? And on top of it all, why have we closed our eyes, and accepted that this is the way that the story goes?

And as long as we continue to move with a bullet in our heads, we move closer to the future collapse.

Oh those Red-brick walls

2006-04-26T23:34:00.000+05:30

Most of us would rather be pretty unhappy to see school start out early.

Yeah sure, who likes to go sit into half dead classrooms, and that too, on the second floor? Shouldn't we just wait until our Board results come out so that commerce students stop shuttling back and forth between science and humanities?
Amazed or not, most of us people decide to aim at the negative as answers to these questions.

This is what happens when you take the kids to the movies, weird newspaper and weight management workshops, and field trips instead of making them tediously open their backpacks and start looking for pens lost in its depths.

One week into this mess, and I've realized that it's not back to the blues this time!

Damn dam!

2006-04-19T21:33:00.000+05:30

Aamir Khan is fighting a cold war. He raised his fist silently, and has come against the construction of the Narmada Dam, all for a noble cause. This dam will seemingly plague the lives of 3 lakh people, who live in the surrounding area.

He stands tall, offering autographs to no one. He stands tall, amidst the crowd of people hailing "Save Narmada!".

By doing so, he holds hands with the common man. He walks a vague path, laid and made by others like him. Shah Rukh Khan cleaning the streets of Mumbai is another example in its name.

***

When these celebrities turn into activists, we see stars with stars in our eyes. They then suddenly become good guys, and the good ones become the better guys. And, that's pretty much about it.
Yeah, that wraps it up.

We tend to forget what they were doing there, let alone asking why they were there in the first place! And all this gives birth to the society we know, the society we live in, the society we kill and the society we breathe in.
It gives birth people who believe that the celebrities are only trying fetch media and public attention. And as obvious as it may seem, they become the apple of some other eyes.

Now, you see, Aamir is fighting for a noble cause. He is against the construction of the Narmada...The Narmada... Damn! I forgot.

That's what I call Chinkara!

2006-04-14T20:29:00.000+05:30

A fan goes back to his home, and reaches for his room. He tears those posters off the walls, and hides in a corner, trying his best not to breakdown. He looks into the mirror, and behind those red eyes, he fails to confess. "I was never a fan anyway..." he says.

Affected by the same, another fan tries to cope. He looks up to his pictures, and his posters; He dares not take them down.
He prays to God, and seeks help and consolement. He only waits for these evil days to end. He only waits for these moments of pain to end. Many moments. Many, many, many moments...

And now, both of these fans rejoice. "Hey, Salman has been granted bail!"
That's a bail after spending three whole days behind bars, waiting for the Court's hearing. All in for killing an endangered Indian Gazelle. They tell me there's going to be some 5 years down the line...
I'm sure jail wasn't anything you saw in those movies, was it Salman?

And bail? That's only for now.

Into the Demon Days

2006-04-13T22:11:00.000+05:30

This is not good.

My life has been put on hold. Now, all of it is more of a painting, hanging quietly on the wall, waiting to be noticed by a silent observer.

Darn.

I came to realize that I have not faced the world. It's not easy at all, and it's becoming increasingly difficult to live with my own self. I know the value of everything that I do and all that I don't, but I still just sit there, still waiting for somewhat of a miracle to happen.

I know that those books that I have are meant to be read. I want to read them, and I want to ace my next test. But my motor nerve fails to send this message to my hands. I know that by not working hard, I will end up as a confused soul, trapped in regret. I know that by not studying today, I'm risking my future.

And if it keeps going this way, I'll end up struggling to live. I may have to steal food and money to live. I may have wanted posters of mine, posted at every local Police Station -- 4 of them, and with 2 of them at the same angle.

I also know that my performance is degrading, and this post would be better if I didn't post it at all. My work used to be better, but somewhere, something went wrong.

Please forgive me.
I just cannot bottle it in anymore. This weight is getting heavy and harder to hold.

Another man's story

2006-03-31T12:12:00.000+05:30

As we move on, there come many walls. Walls that block us, obstacles we must jump over. These walls may worry us, but the future is nothing we should worry about.

Stand firm and face your destiny, without fear, but with courage.

The Time is Now by abhas1

As the world turns,
and the fossil burns,
there will be houses on fire,
in it a child's life shaken,
he'll have a burning desire,
to go on higher,
and become one whose demise
will be readily planned
by a bomb in disguise.
"Curses! He lives!"
to the enemy's surprise.

He'll raise his hand
to the new world kings;
pursue the marching bands
to follow the army's rings.
When he say a word,
the rest of the world be blurred,
for his voice only
will be the one that's heard,
and civilians and protestants alike
will nod their heads,
to what he says through the mic.

When he prepares to leave,
after finishing his speech,
there will be a leech
with a rifle aimed at his sleeve.
But the man will fail to die,
the opposite-ally's plan be foiled again,
for there are fifty men
who follow him sly;
who bullet-proof him
in a dark black shade,
in this rally of hate.

Ergo the man,
will live to look,
for his food,
the world will cook.
With dreamy eyes,
he won't dare despise
the media that will
splash his every thought,
his every action,
into every paper ever caught;
for it's the news mainstream
that will keep him on TV
or take him to a ban.
He'll keep his head high,
as he signs for a fan.

There's not many
who love his identity,
they burn easy in envy.
But he lives not for them,
he lives for truth,
in this world of lies,
and salvation walks up to him,
as he flies.

There's only a few
born to this fate,
others work hard
to open this gate.
So then, what's the wait?
Show the world who you are,
don't dare be late...