"To Err Is Human, To Forgive Divine"

2011-10-03T23:55:00.001-07:00

unity in diversity.... an anthem in India...a catch phrase to represent India shining to the world....Who are we kidding??

The smallest sparks of anger can get blown out of proportion and in a nation filled with culturally different, spiritually different and ethnically diverse people, the smallest flames can be catalyst to widespread rioting and communal violence.....

Is it actually the case that causes such primitive behavior in people???

Or is it just about the haves and the have not's in society???

The city I now live in, like any city in India have a minority few and a majority more...Isn't this always the same anywhere....Some where down the line some group's sentiments are bound to get hurt....can't we just be a more tolerant race in this short span....

Drivers on the road, the shopkeeper having a bad day, the bank teller, the shopper, the brother, you and me..... Be tolerant......

2011-10-03T10:23:00.000-07:00

Its interesting to now know that my scariest experience did't feel a thing.... What caused this change.. Was I mentally prepared for it... I didn't allow myself time to think...Yes the rush of wind and plummeting down to earth was definitely an experience...But that little voice in the back of my head was calm...

Or has it not yet sunk in....

Before the jump was an unusual calm....the jump itself was without a thought.....That too barely since the mind did overcome that urge to feel.....

Well maybe i was scared...scared to death to think what would I feel if I thought about it.... Moments to ponder.... Thank God for the video to remind myself that as long as you can convince yourself otherwise, you did jump and that too without doubt....The doubt while falling was well...a tad bit too late.....

Bungy Jumping @ Rishikhesh - Nishan Marc Pereira

2011-10-03T10:18:00.000-07:00

To all the experiences in life....Up yours....

2011-03-04T19:45:00.000-08:00

What is 100& effort ??
How can one person's effort be quantified. In a more broader scheme of things, I firmly believe that sincerity in the effort is more important. After all in life, man has reached feats previously incapable. To put things in perspective, Usain Bolt keeps beating his records of being the fastest man on earth. Does that mean when he first created the world record, did he not put in his 100 % ??
And all this being just a random thought fluttering in my head....

2011-01-26T06:30:00.000-08:00

With the constant whirring like sound of machine guns firing, I spend every waking moment in fear of the unknown. I hide behind the sheets, as the distant sounds get louder and closer...The nights seem eerily quite until the sudden burst of that rhythmic sound....I toss and I turn unable to think if that sound would take over me...I spend every waking minute in fear...and even when I'm able to catch a quick nap amidst all the sound,it suddenly starts afresh....the toxic smell of burnt fuel fills the air....it seeps in steadily through every crevice....
the world is seeing its end...with every bleeding breath it takes it is only a matter of time....what are we leaving for the future...

2011-01-21T19:06:00.000-08:00

Its often I find myself in a 70 mm silent film footage looking at the world pass by. Actors play their parts and leave with a flourish and I still stare their vacantly into the screen. Very few scenes in this movie actually make you ponder a thought . Where did that zest in this mundane movie go. That spark seems to be missing in a life so fast paced. And I often wonder if its so fast paced why does it go by in slow motion.???

2010-11-17T07:30:00.000-08:00

well I did speak less today....the funny thing is that I didn't have to make a conscience effort.....

Benchmark 2 : materialistic things do not matter...

A cell phone breaks, a dent in my new car, a crack in the laptop, a tear in my new shirt, .....who cares.... that is not what happiness is...so how does it matter...this is from the Last Lecture....
When I was home Zubin was busy tuning the guitar...He broke the string...My feeling at that moment was too scream at him...Hate to say its what I would usually do... But instead I just walked away...He fixed it and well no hard feelings ...Why can't I be like this all the time....

Too let go of things that don't personally affect me is where I need to see myself in the future...

2010-11-16T09:26:00.000-08:00

I had the good fortune of reading the Last Lecture by Randy Pausch recently. It made me introspect on alot of things in my life. At the end of the day when I lie down, I want to know that I have done the right thing! Not only the right thing but also what is fair to me and to those I deal with. The next few posts will hopefully be read by me some time in the future and act as benchmarks against which I should measure my life.

Benchmark 1 : Talk less. Be a good listener.

Its better to have spoken less rather that to ramble on and on about mundane and nonsensical things. Puts things in perspective.

2010-06-08T14:32:00.000-07:00

a moment of clarity shuttered about the surface...... It flew, suspended for a moment as though on the wings of a butterfly...... So calm and serene it was.....I moved towards it jumping off the cliff of my indecisiveness.....

Where did it go a second later?...... Felt as though the sudden sting of a bee... It vanished just beyond my grasp...did I imagine it??? I sit here grasping at air wildly... So close and yet so far....do not deny me it...

2010-06-08T14:00:00.000-07:00

Location : Domestic terminal at Delhi airport
Time: 2 in the morning

time has ceased to exist....sounds of the Veena playing in the background... people staring off into the distance....a brilliant net connection to share these thoughts with you.....

Coincidence. What a brilliant word to discuss some of the most absurd of situations. Having used the very word 3 times today has left me gaping...Never did I consider that 3 totally random people would speak to me of things I have myself experienced..call it a coincidence the first time but 3 times? Maybe it just was....

Coincidence 1 : On my way to the college I catch the rick along with a lady who happens to be going to meet the same teacher I have work under...

Coincidence 2 : A random Bihari guy on the platform at Jalandhar, telling me about his misfortunes that day. He had missed the earlier train since he had not gotten off earlier and ended i[p at Chakkibank before Jammu. Thats the station Akash and me saw passing by when we overslept on the train and ended up in Jammu. This guy however hadn't overslept.

Coincidence 3 : A random sardar with a yellow pagdi, on the metro platform at Pratap Nagar, telling me about his long journey and about hime feeling sorry for some other person, who he met on the train, going to Bangalore later the next day....And here I was heading to Bangalore....

When all's said and done, the coincidence of such random occurrences in a single day is either by design or me trying to find meaning in everything I do...

Part 2 - Murder at Pretoria Street

2010-04-27T10:57:00.000-07:00

Patience was a virtue that Mr. Karansingh strives by. He had vowed to take his revenge on that obnoxious dalit girl, and he intended to do so in good time. Fate somehow played a cruel hand putting a spanner in the works. It was around two months ago that he had decided to pay a little visit to her office Ernst and Young located on Park street. He had decided to use her position as a top notch lawyer with the company to worm his way into her life and then humiliate and subjugate her to the same profane treatment he had felt at her hands. Well not the same but much worse.
He had entered the office at the appointed time and was quickly shown into spacious waiting lounge. It was elegantly designed with a glass brick wall on the northern side. A French window looked down into a small garden, overlooking the busy crowded street below. Ironically it even had some fake bamboo stalks, a sign of low maintenance. The facade that these large foreign corporate firms put on is despicable. His meeting with one of the firm’s lawyers went perfectly to plan. Why shouldn’t it, after all these lawyers are the biggest posers of the lot and throw a couple of big numbers in the air, they are bound to lap it up like hungry dogs.
With his next meeting set for a week later, he gleefully rubbed his palms together as he waited to cross the street. He was role playing the entire conversation he would have and his victory at the end of the day when he saw her walking just below the building arch. Her stilettos clicking against the pavement below, her confident arrogant walk oblivious to the stares she drew, her long black hair neatly tied back reminding him of Angelina Jolie in the Tomb Raider and her disregard for his post as an IAS officer made him want her all the more. He had a sudden moment of clarity where he saw her not as the dalit but just a beautiful woman spurning his advances. It was at that moment their eyes met for the briefest of seconds, she turned away unaware of the power that her gaze had over him.
As he shook away the feeling of rejection, he blindly stepped of the curb. There was a shrill screech of tires, the smell of burning rubber, a hand grasping air as it tried to hold on to him and then a sudden silence. He woke up with a throbbing pain at the side of his head. His eyes taking time to focus on the fluorescent hue of the bulb, a ceiling fan clanking away as one of its wings bent out of shape, the pungent smell of antiseptic that seemed more like bleach. A raspy voice of an old man in his ear said, “haramjadar kopal bhalo (you lucky bastard), no one should have survived what you did”. As he tried to get up vertigo took over him and he fell back remembering the pale red smear at the side of the truck, the footpath, scores of feet and then her face. Within a split second he blamed her for his plight and his resolve to hurt her grew. He cried out loud in laughter as the pain broke through his senses. Covered in blood and bile as he vomited over himself and then soiling his sheets with his piss unable to control his basic bodily functions, he knew that this was his trial by fire.
It took 3 weeks for him to regain his sense of modesty. Another 2 weeks went by and his strength gradually grew. He was a man with a purpose, and his sheer determination and will power was driving him. With a lack of any company, he spent hours talking to himself. His partisan approach in blaming Ms. Kalavati Devi grew as time wore on. With the fear of turning schizophrenic, he plotted and planned against every eventuality. Now the time had dawned after spending hours just studying her routine and memorizing the intricate details of her life. His plans would be unveiled. He never considered it as stalking rather he regarded it as an art and he the artist. He was preparing the canvas upon which the world would witness the grand unveiling tomorrow morning. His clout still ran deep within administration circles. He would ensure the entire media circus would be there to witness his master piece. As for the fiancée, he would just be at the wrong place at the wrong time. The irony is that there never is a wrong place and a wrong time. Destiny is written by the powerful!!!

Murder at Pretoria Street (part 1)

2010-04-25T10:50:00.000-07:00

Dwelling in the fickleness of the egoistic self, he mused at the young thing. He craved her approval which so far eluded his advances. He stared unashamed and haughtily, even as disapproving eyes glanced his way. After all his eyes betrayed none of the nefarious thoughts that skirted beneath the surface. He was after all immortal. A wicked grin appeared on his face. His harrowing experience had freed him from the shackles that bound men to societal norms. He had cheated death when it came for him.
She looked around fearing she was being watched again. It was that same portentous feeling that kept her awake in the nights. After all the years being ghettoized because of her caste, against the adversity that crippled her family, she rose above the rest to stand up strong and independent. Suddenly she felt stifled just standing in the open. Her body subconsciously was trying to survive an impending attack. But the mind seemed audacious enough to suggest it as a mere feeling of being coveted. If she only knew that he had coveted her the moment she had rebuked him in public.
It would be a perfect crime. The media in their hotheadedness would crucify the wrong man. They would make a public spectacle of her immoral nature and her fiancées jealousy. The media’s trial by fire would be brutal. It would leave the people of the country, the simple middle-class families to the rich obnoxious ones to even the people who clean the streets in the morning shell shocked at the brutality of a lover’s jealousy.
He continued to watch her as she crossed the road heading towards her home. He had been watching her for the past few weeks and he had learnt of her many infirmities that she tried so hard to hide. Her fake smile every time she opens the door to let her fiancée into her home, the frantic cleaning every time a visitor were to arrive, the quick change of clothes to greet her overly friendly neighbors, and most of all her fear of the world catching her vulnerable would be the reason for her death.
His fastidious nature had helped him in the past. It was both a boon and a curse in his line of work. His job as an IAS officer in the rural village Murshidabad in West Bengal had been an eye opener. His discipline had kept him alert at all times and aware of every paper trail that left his office. They say that an idle mind is a devil’s workshop, and a mind as devious as his was quick to use his authoritarian power. His brilliance in executing the complexity of schemes was commended by his higher ups. His quick eye had unearthed the money laundering scam. The thought of being a whistle blower never once crossed his mind. His brilliance was in attention to detail and thus he carved out a plan in which he too would to be a recipient of the darshan (blessing) as they so often call it. After all spreading the wealth and joy around was considered good for a healthy body. 5 long years he worked the system never once getting caught. While those around him rose and quickly fell and were burned at the stake by the media, he continued to fly below the radar. His want for the simple joys in life had kept him grounded. His swiss bank account was reaching the 85 million mark. Then we would retire to a nice foreign country by the beach and spend his days fishing on his small private boat.
Then one day Mr. Karansingh met his match in Ms. Kalavati Devi. She was a young student in the final year of law when he was first posted at Murshidabad. She had come down for her vacations to meet her family. He was smitten by her beauty and when he offered her a ride to her parents home, she had very bluntly replied, “Aap kai saat? Jee Nahi Shukria! (With you, No thanks!).” How dare she rebuke him an IAS officer? He had even spoken to her parents for her hand in marriage later that evening. But she had once again sent a type-written letter refusing to consider his proposal. A type-written letter by a Dalit! His peon saw the letter and had tattletale far and wide. His embarrassment at a Dalits hand was unforgiveable. Hurt by the rebuke he had vowed to teach her a lesson. As for the peon he was never heard of again.

the last memory

2010-04-24T08:15:00.000-07:00

Memories of a forgotten past come crashing down on that withered soul. Not a light shines in the crooked shadows of a once loved being. Desolate and lost without a sense of direction he turns and stumbles upon his own feet. Blindly grasping at the ether, he searches. Searches not for direction, not for support and even not for hope. He just searches!!!!
His heavy heart sags under the weight of his memories. Of times being loved, of times being known, of times being hated. Memories that seem to get lost into the infinitive shackles of time. Where can this soul find solace, if not in the arms of the loved ones? Yet, grasping in the dark, he knows that no one shall come for him. No one shall even remember his name. Of the times he was needed and has been there for others. Of the times he stood by firmly when others spurned his loved ones. Yet today he was left in darkness. Did they feel shame? Who can blame them. He curses his stars for the cruel act of fate. He curses God for the troubles he faces. In fear he quickly apologizes hoping for a change in fortunes. A minute slowly ticks by. He still lies there alone and forlorn.He now knows his fate is sealed.
He cries out in a loud voice and screams until his lungs get parched and run dry. He curses until he loses his voice. He curses until his voice fails to echo from the surroundings. When words no longer form, he tears and pulls his hair. He is hurting and yet he continues......
After his strength leaves him, he slowly turns to face himself in the puddle of his own sweat. One look an he knows he has been broken. His soul has been turned. He will never get back his past. The past now seems to be a distant memory. A small chuckle escapes his ragged mouth. He smiles, showing that beautiful smile that until moment ago seemed lost in his madness. The smile that broke through the defenses of his loved ones. The smile that endeared him to all his loved ones. The smile that only moments ago slowly took that cut piece of glass and held it up in the light and with a firm heart brought it down and slashed his own wrists.
Tick tock....times slowly passes. Memories crashing down....The good ones...The bad ones...the ones with loved ones....The last memory of the verdict two hours ago. The grim look on the doctors face told him that he was doomed. The hesitance to even look him in the eye for fear of catching his curse. The one line in the report that told it all.... "HIV+" !!!
Then he breathed his last...........

In Memory

2010-04-15T05:58:00.000-07:00

There seemed to be a deadly silence that settled over campus today. The weather had reached 42 degrees, it was the middle of the afternoon and I had just got back from the city. On entering campus I find out that a faculty's kid had passed away. There is a eerie silence that seemed to envelope me. The frailty of life is yet another lesson we learn with death. Life seems to come to a stand still. Without having actually know the person and the mere association with the college, has left me pondering the value of life. As the news spread the shock was evident among students and faculty alike. Classes were suspended for the rest of the day. Even those who at first seemed happy of the impromptu break in classes were sorrow faced at the prospect that it came with the cost of a life. The facebook messages of many were updated to read "In loving memory of every cancer patient, family and friends who have lost their battle with cancer, and the one's who continue to conquer it! Put this on your page if you know someone who has or had cancer. I pray for a cure for cancer". Life at the end of the day goes on for the rest of us. What we need to learn is to appreciate the small joys in life and never take our life here for granted. Life is like that china vase or a glass vase you hold in your hand. One slip and it can fall, shattering the pieces far and wide affecting all that it touches.

God bless the child's soul....

A minute of silence in memory....

2010-04-14T09:10:00.000-07:00

the concept of time when we fail to meet deadlines
the concept of love when there is no one to love
the concept of friends when there is none to share with
the concept of being lonely when there is none who listen to you

Of moments and opportunities lost in time, efforts of love spurned or even too scared to embrace, of friends who don't know who you really are and of all those moments I talk to myself, I still stand here braving the winds of change!!!

2010-04-06T09:42:00.000-07:00

They are very few moments in life that give you a sense that you are different from the rest. I ask myself as to what is the point of following life's journeys in a flock mentality approach? We are after all the sum of our experiences. You might on that rare occasion do something out of the ordinary and make a difference. What if a difference wasn't made? Even if you did not manage to change the world but one day ended up doing the same thing that you would usually do with a bit of style, then by far it does make a difference. Listening to the soothing sound of Ronnie Jordan's "After Hours", sipping a glass of wine with buddies from home, eating that rich plum cake in the middle of the night and sharing memories of journeys to the back of beyond........ Guess I did something different after all!!!

Supermen

2010-04-06T09:17:00.000-07:00

It's a bird....No, Its a plane....No, its superman !!!!!

Wait am I seeing double or triple????
Sorry i guess these are Supermen!!!

2010-04-02T09:28:00.000-07:00

I seem to be grappling down a vertical cliff. The sheer force of gravity drags me to its depths, but there is this constant nudge. A force that I haven't recon with, seems to be egging me to hold on. Every misstep is led by a sudden force slamming my body upward. I know I have firmly secured the line. Its this confidence that makes me not fear the unknown that is yet to come. But where has this sense of doubt crept it from? It wasn't there when I started this adventure of mine. Yet it seems to be smiling at my face and mocking me to try taking a further step. What fear is this, that has stopped me in mid-step? Is it the fear of the line snapping with my weight and plunging me into that abyss? Is it the fear of the line getting rubbed against the scorching face of the rocks due to the sun? No, I'm sure that the line will hold but yet I fear it. Maybe its time to slow down and take every step as if it were my last. But where is the sense of adventure then???

2010-03-30T07:36:00.000-07:00

Change is inevitable. Getting cozy in your seat and expecting things to work like they always do will lead to your downfall. Its not the art of accepting change, but knowing when to accept change as it knocks at your door. There are moments in life that you look back and wonder if those decisions made will still hold us in good stead. I'm tired of always looking over my shoulder. Never knowing what then next big thing is going to be seems like unfair to those who want to be part of it. Yet here we stand unsure of what tomorrow holds for us. Its in those moments that the feeling you always had when you knew some one was coming or something bad was going to happen, when as a little child your hand was trying slowly to take a bite of that freshly baked cake your mom prepared and then either your younger brother walks in and decides to tattle tale to your parents or you burn your hand as it brushes past the hot vessel. This as we often call it a "conscience" seems to stem from the gut. That gut feeling is all there is to guide us in the darkness or in the brightest of light.

2010-03-29T09:40:00.000-07:00

of times shared with others and the ones in solace, i stand wondering where the changes in the sands of time lead me...I'm lost without a compass but yet I stand against the tides. I feel it pushing me over the edge, making me bend unto its will...where does it wish me to go???

2010-03-28T10:23:00.000-07:00

" What you staring at?"

2010-03-28T06:36:00.000-07:00

Spring is often considered the perfect season. A walk around the campus and the mesmerizing colors can light up any ones day. Nature in its finest hour where the withered leaves crumble on the ground, the new young samplings of the young trees in the distance, the shades of red, orange, yellow and green all blended together on the woody branches. Here in the heart of Punjab, I look upon these stalks and know in my heart that nature calls unto us in its beauty. James Cameron left us in awe with the images of Pandora. Yet here I stand in awe closer to home....

2010-03-26T22:30:00.001-07:00

I ended up standing in a queue for breakfast today for nearly 40 min (believe me it doesn't take that long to serve the Masala dosa). Yet a sense of irritation that usually exists when the same situation is played out either at the post office or the bank, transforms me into the Hulk. I turn green, raise my voice, scream and get all hot and bothered. Incompetence at work your supposed to do is a big turn off and can really push my buttons. Anyhoo, today I realized that as long as the person behind the counter acknowledges me (seems an important part), does his job well and has a sense of fairness (First come first serve), then I think it just flies under my radar. Its at theses moments I tell myself, you have patience friend...

2010-03-26T10:01:00.000-07:00

The word spring cleaning came to my attention when I gave my room a makeover. The intended purpose was more out of sheer boredom, but culminated with me now having to sit up on the chair while posting my random ramblings. These ramblings I might add can even give those sturdy, fisher-woman a run for their vernacular way of speaking. For me it was more a spring cleaning of my soul and a way to break free from the shackles of my past. It was a way to show a sense of responsibility and maturity in my thinking as I step closer to a new era that will shape my life. Memories of priced possessions in the last 4 years found its way to the trash can. Memories of sentimental value too were not spared. The tough part was in just letting go. At the end of the day, my heart was torn with grief on having to let go of those items that once meant something. Holding on to curios from friends, family and other 'people', seems to be an expected norm more so when the said items are given out of love, friendship or even mild crushes. At the end of the cleaning drive, when most articles that didn't fit in anyway on the VED or ABC analysis and found its way to the trash can, it seemed like a huge burden had lifted off me. Hoarding is man's greatest weakness, and I have often fallen prey to it. We are known by the materialistic prizes we possess and I refuse to be captured in the false pretense of possession. Not a tear should be shed as long as the dignity of oneself is still in place.

Midnight Chicken Kebab Snack

2010-03-24T12:25:00.001-07:00

In my room over a simple heater. Just mixed the masala from home(thanks mum), one egg and ginger garlic paste. 6 hrs of marination and a kick ass snack at the end of it....

2010-03-24T03:28:00.000-07:00

I'm alive. I feel my stomach expand and contract as I take in air subconsciously. I feel the tiny hairs on my hand sway in the wind. I can taste the remains of a meal still hidden between the crevices of my teeth. I can see the world go by. I can smell the remains of a fire, from the not so green process of disposal of withered leaves. I hear the constant ticking of the table clock tick...tick...tick...Yet time seems to be moving at a lazy pace. I seem lost in this world. All around I find other characters go about their lives with a sense of purpose. I know I'm alive but where is the connection with this world?

People go about their lives living in the moment called time, yet here I wait eagerly for the next change in the otherwise monotonous existence that seems to be persisting. The most insignificant of changes, like the sound of steel rods being dropped at the construction nearby, or the sound of a local folk song played over the radio, or even the sound of laughter to a joke shared between friends in the adjoining room seems to show a flicker of activity. What kind of an existence is this when you can feel, hear, smell, touch and yet are not able to relate and connect with?

The steady whirring of the fan overhead and the sounds of the world beyond come crashing down on my thoughts. This disturbance is a welcome change to the solidarity within my head. Do I find the company of others as a source of relief? Experience as shown me that I seem more like a bot in a game, pre-programmed to fill in the requirements of the necessary participants in this game called life. There is a purpose of me being exactly where I am in this moment, at this place and doing the exact same thing. Its a mystery to me, but here I hope, to live each moment with a sense of purpose.

Holi(y) Tree

2010-03-22T22:35:00.002-07:00

This is by far the most fascinating of Indian festivals. I'm not adverse to joining in any of the said festivities associated with Holi, but experience tells me to stay the hell away. But then again, when its the final year and one decides to just let go. So I end up celebrating the festival of colors with muck, grease, tearing of each others clothes (thanks be to God that it wasn't the pants), Bhang(some dope drink with milk) and the kicker of the lot was an all guy celebration (because the tearing of clothes would have led to other not so decent behavior on part of the guys).

Experience has taught me not to shy away or hide when the vultures come banging at your door. You have got to be prepared with some face cream, a little oil in the hair and a shirt with no sentimental attachments. It is impossible to beat them, so the only alternative is to join them. A best defense is often the best offense. By this analogy, you open your room door with an open heart, a smile and say "happy holi". On receiving the showering of colors, you run with the group, and prey on other unsuspecting targets. The chances of getting color smeared on you is less likely if you look like you have already been defiled with the colors that will take a bit of washing to come off.
It takes one person to start with the ripping of a friends pocket, to cause a domino effect. Instead of again heading for cover, you offer yourself to be violated, and then rubs your fingers in glee and look at those targets with covering still intact. The evil laugh that then escapes (muhuhahahhahah) instigates the prey to run like never before. You may not take part in this barbaric activity but then again since its an activity most preferred by the wolves, its best to show delight in rather than shy away from.
One should also know when its time to leave. Its about the time when the guys who decide that since there are no girls around, to start looking and acting like some. The shirts partially ripped are then used as upper body coverings. Its not the intention of covering ones body that is disturbing. Its the way the said intention is carried out. To put in as bluntly as possible, the bare minimum is covered. The difference is that the rags cover up areas that are well not really needed(your a guy for crying out loud). The water then starts flowing and people are picked and dropped, rolled, splattered and god forbid smacked with wet mud. Its a good thing that a mud fight isn't instigated. Its about this time that one slowly slips away to the safety of your room.

(I would really love to share the disturbing images with you guys, but a certain feeling of me getting my ass kicked in the process forces me to refrain from posting the pictures)

2010-03-22T11:08:00.000-07:00

One foot following the other. Every step taking me further away from the place I want to be. A minute and 13 seconds pass and I'm back where I started. I still continue, egging myself that its the last one. Somewhere along the path a new resolve is made, "3 more to go"!

My breathing becomes heavy with every step I take. I feel my memory failing me as I can't remember which round I'm on. Yes its still the 2nd and yet the body aches like its been traveling for weeks. The path also shows no signs of slowing down. When will it end...

A double click on the iPod controls, changes the track. A continued activity till I find a track with a beat to relate with the steady and yet laborious breathing that accompanies every step. At last I find one that will make do. Will have to sort my music.

I continue to gather my thoughts which are in disarray but the resolve is still strong to complete one task at a time. The lack of clarity is getting to me. The loneliness is upon me, and yet I continue. Where is this resolve coming from.

Sweat beads slowly running from my brow down across my face. The warmth of the evening sun as it sets beyond the walls, and the constant movement brings a wave of delight. The breathing continues struggling to find the next source of breath. With my jaw clenched tightly shut, I'm forcing the air in and out through my nose. Is it away to show control?

The final stretch looms just ahead. The air seems lighter, and the my breathing is getting more steady. Even the shadows of the trees dancing across the field, playing its very own game with the setting sun seems to be in harmony with my feelings. The loss of clarity with random thoughts, seems like a distant memory. And then suddenly its upon me, but I continue on as the momentum carries me forward into time, where I finally come to rest.....

"The Catcher in the Rye" by J. D. Salinger

2010-03-17T05:53:00.000-07:00

I woke up singing this morning.
I mean, I was happy and all.
But last night, what I really felt like
was jumping out the window.

All I could see were these phonies -
I never left the house though.
They were on TV, in books and stuff,
acting out madman stuff in the goddam movies.

I swear sometimes I think I'm crazy,
surrounded by these goddam princes
making out like life's perfect and all.
That kills me.

Then someone wakes them up,
and they all get sore as hell about it.
But I lie singing in bed -
there goes my crazy sense of humour again.

These thoughts and not a poem by Ruth Sheppard was part of the review for The Catcher in the Rye by J. D. Salinger. The book made a very interesting and thought provoking read, especially once I realized the book is highly controversial and banned in most places abroad. Human nature is fascinating! Things that are so often banned and told to be bad for one is usually the things we do the most. As adolescents we know of things to be bad for us. The first things that comes to our mind when we hear the words cigarettes, alcohol and drugs is 'banned'. Yet most teenagers usually take a shot it anyway just to make sure for themselves that such 'banned' items are really not good for us. Anyhoo, once I did turn the last page of this book, a single thought came to my mind. "Why all the fuss about the so called profanity?" My guess is people around 1951, when the book was published had a higher morality scale. Goes to show of our low morality standards that we seem to abide by today.

On a different note a review by Brian Banks says that "the book has been steeped in controversy since it was banned in America after it's first publication. John Lennon's assassin, Mark Chapman, asked the former Beatle to sign a copy of the book earlier in the morning of the day that he murdered Lennon. Police found the book in his possession upon apprehending the psychologically disturbed Chapman. However, the book itself contains nothing that could be attributed with leading Chapman to act as he did - it could have been any book that he was reading the day he decided to kill John Lennon - and as a result of the fact that it was The Catcher in the Rye, a book describing a nervous breakdown, media speculated widely about the possible connection. This gave the book even more notoriety. "

Talk about the Media again blowing things out of proportion.

Cadbury - Contri

2010-03-11T11:05:00.000-08:00

5 buddies and I decided to share a pack of Bournville fine dark chocolate, as its know. The investment had to be equal, and it was with Rs15/- been put it by the six of us. My life in college has always seen me haggling with shop keepers, settling bills with friends (offering generous discounts or even barter deals) and even pooling in money to pay the bills. The 'contri' term hence was coined. Today I was part of a 'contri' treat yourself to a Cadbury Bournville fine dark chocolate with Hazel nut. The chocolate just melted in my mouth, and was over before I knew it. Why is it we find ourselves always lacking that extra bit (droooolllll.....thinking about chocolate).

Interestingly the inside cover of the wrapper had these instructions as the perfect way to enjoy the Cadbury Bournville Fine Dark Chocolate.

Take your bar of Bournville and ensure that you are at a location where there is as little disturbance as possible. This is important for you to be able to savour and enjoy your bar of this fine dark chocolate to the maximum.
Smell the Chocolate first. Inhaling its aroma will awaken your senses and prepare your tongue for tasting the chocolate. This will actually enhance your perception of its flavor.
Go ahead and snap a piece of this dark chocolate. Place the chocolate on your tongue and allow it to melt. Savour the piece bit by bit as the chocolate melts in your mouth completely.
Close your eyes and concentrate on the flavours that are enveloping your tongue.
Repeat the experience as often as you would like to visit the world of Cadbury Bournville Fine Dark Chocolate

By far one of the best experiences and well great marketing technique....

82nd Academy Awards

2010-03-10T09:54:00.000-08:00

Husband and ex-wife at each others throats. Haven't we always heard of this in divorce cases, seen it at the movies, and well God forbid at home. This year the Oscars was far more interesting with The Hurt Locker stealing the show and beating the over hyped Avatar. Costing James Cameron a whooping $152 million, he must have had homicidal tendencies towards his ex-wife Kathryn Bigelow.
Wondering if he was planning on explaining the above picture as an alternate person entering into the Avatar program, and into his James Cameron's body in order to hurt the ex-wife for some random reason (remember he doesn't know the reason considering he still is 'friends' with his ex-wife?

On a more personal take on the issue, I saw Avatar twice. And NO, its not cause I liked it, but because I felt that the crowd it the theater was dead the first time round ,and well it was a dead beat crowd the second time too. I like my movies to have crowd response since I do like laughing and sighing or saying f@&k at an intense scene.

As for the Hurt Locker, it didn't have that ...hmmm....well ...punch...There is no other way I can define it. It was a good movie no doubt about it, but it just didn't strike the right chord with me (just a personal feeling).
Christoph Waltz in Inglourious Basterds was as expected. His character Col. Hans Landa sent shivers down my spine when he enters the restaurant and meets Shosanna Dreyfus.

2010-03-06T08:07:00.000-08:00

It has been a long day. A day without the use of those items we rely on day in and day out. A 12 hr long power cut on campus has left me with a question. Do I rely too much on materialistic gadgets?

I seem to find the company of others mundane, the repetition of conversations in different companies, the frivolous talk of inconsequential issues, and yet I flirted from one group to another and felt the world go by really slow. Lost within my thoughts, I watch the world as it played out conversations like a really old film, straight out the canister. The characters of old, the conversations plagiarized, the scenes from the same locations. I was watching reruns without being part of my film and reduced to being the silent spectator. My watch, silently and constantly ticked as the world around moved slowly. A silent laughter escaped my lips, as dark clouds gathered above the sky. A flash of lightning and a gentle breeze brought down the soothing drops of rain, gently washing away the screen. Back to my reality, another conversation takes place, "Damm, there is no current! I can't charge my phone!". As I watched the world outside and its dependence on technology, I wanted to break free from the shackle's and go into the wild........

Ammonium Nitrate

2010-02-26T10:58:00.001-08:00

Was reading a blog that I came across and it brought back a really old memory of me in the Chemistry Lab at St. Joseph's Pre -University College in Bangalore. Ended up commenting on the below blog. But hey its a nice story of 3 hours of pain and a very irritating shop keeper.

http://www.chronicwriter.com/2010/02/393-those-lab-experiment-days.html

The experiment I vaguely remember was burning some salts and seeing the color change or give out black soot (Not really sure, but there is black soot in this very fuzzy part of the incident). In fact the significance of the salt is that the spatula that was used to transfer the salts had to be heated to remove the residual salts from the previous experiments. The Bunsen flame is a very hot flame people.( around 1000 degrees Celsius).

After a few seconds of heating the spatula and seeing a little salt burn away, I know that the spatula is cleared of the residual salts. But I'm not sure if the spatula is ready to be put into the next jar of some random salt X. The mind lost of a complete sense of rationality decides to check the spatula in the only way it knows. As my fingers move towards the spatula there is no fear or sense of mortal harm. Just the thought of continuing an experiment lingered when.....

......fraction of a second later.....(might have been even a millionth of a second for all I know)......

A sharp pain tore through me and my fingers rushed upwards in one fleeting motion and then downwards immediately between the warmth of my thighs. Rushed off to the tap dripping water four small drops at a time in a lab that seemed more like a Frankenstein laboratory. As the water ran down my fingers, the pain reaching the very marrow of my being, a tear was swelling up. With my free hand, I flicked it away with my little finger and went on to hold my arm slowly facing the damage.

A white fatty soft covering was stretched across three fingers on my right hand. Left in awe at the sight, as the pain returned, my hand once again returned below the tap. What then followed was desperate calls to friends to find some sort of remedy for the pain. While a few friends decided to ask the lab attendant, I decided to use the best sort of solution at that point in time. Eliminating running water as the lab seemed to have a limited supply of it anyway and also eliminating ice cubes since it was really not an option at that time, when

ICE = AMMONIUM NITRATE (loses heat in water)

Looking quickly around my fingers plunged themselves into a jar of Ammonium Nitrate. Holding onto the same glass container with my thumb and little finger, I went to get a better solution. Well personally I felt like a genius for the first few seconds experiencing the relief. Then when the effect started to wear off and the thought of having my fingers dipped into Chemical Salts in a lab was not really helping the situation. As it turns out the first aid box didn't seem to have any solution to the situation I had gotten myself into. Taking matter into my own hands I ran about frantically jumping from table to table plunging my fingers into every single glass jar containing Ammonium Nitrate. When the lab seem to finally have run out of them I decided to find outside help. 'Burnol' seemed to be the most suggested remedy at that point in time (A name too this day I have not forgotten).

I then ran to the sports Department considering the most likely place to get a first aid kit. But alas it was not meant to be. I ran out cussing the entire sports department for the lack of basic facilities. Even entered a few staff rooms too but to no avail. Having finally managed to get hold of some ice cubes, which I neatly wrapped in a handkerchief, I returned for my lecture. The lecture was a painful experience with the arranging and rearranging of the ice cubes and alternating between the cold ice to the heat between my feet and armpits.

The second lecture started and having had enough of showing that I'm the man capable of bearing excruciating pain, I decided to go out and find the nearest pharmacy. As my memory recalled it was a few blocks away. Literally running out of the college, passing teachers in the corridors and the shoving my fingers in the face of the guard on duty. The first few steps outside the campus felt like I was entering into a zone where I controlled my destiny. Reached the pharmacy within a minute and asked for a tube of Burnol.

Here is where the shop keeper on any other day a seemingly nice guy really rubbed me the wrong way. He enquires " The big tube or a small one?" I blurt out "any one just give me the damm burnol." The guy seemed to take his time to reach the burnol at the back of the counter. Then he slowly makes his way across and starts to put it in one of those small brown paper bags. Having seen enough and having borne enough for a life time worth of pain, I scream " Just give it"!

Quickly applying it to my fingers I realised why it was recommended, as the pain started to subside. A wave of relief finally broke over me as a wave crashing on the rocks glistening in the hot mid day sun.

where did those chicken pieces go????

2010-02-26T09:43:00.000-08:00

I feel ripped off today...
Went to KFC in Jalandhar for a long overdue chicken meal and I got ripped off... The last time I visited the place, me and 3 other buddies ordered a family bucket. Now to be perfectly honest I'm not a big eater and so weren't the others and to top it, one was vegetarian too.The meal consisted of the following items:

A 2 liter bottle of Pepsi
2 Small Fries
2 Fried Rice meals
6 pieces of boneless Chicken
10 Pieces of fried Chicken
12 Chicken Hot wings (my favorite)

As impressed that I was, I actually gave a feedback and received a mail from KFC thanking me. I called the meal "awesome". That is my highest valuation reserved for the very best of something I'm really impressed by. Today for the same order at the same KFC outlet, with only two other buddies (big eaters), we get:

A 2 liter bottle of Pepsi
2 Small Fries
2 Fried Rice meals
6 pieces of boneless Chicken
4 Pieces of fried Chicken

I may not be that good in math but that doesn't mean I can't count my chicken pieces!
(As a matter of fact, I'm wondering if I ripped them off the last time around)

2010-02-25T12:22:00.000-08:00

This is the image of the crazy times that I make at NITJ. Well I could carry off a Mohawk and its a sweet old memory. The walk to the barber in Bidipur. It cost me 10 bucks to get this style. I'm laughing at all those who pay 600 bucks for the same style. Got a lot of stares and even a lecturer saying hmmmmm.... And not to forget that I also broke my hand that day. Sigh....

bad luck tendulkar

2010-02-25T12:17:00.000-08:00

Arguably one of the best players in this generation, Sachin Tendulkar scored a double ton. Im not a cricket follower per say but it feels good to say that " hey I saw that match too. It was amazing". Like when Australia and South Africa played that 400 a side game. I'm not one to remember dates and stats, and I'm not likely to be one either. Tennis the sport I follow by far the most is also just restricted to the Grand Slam's. That is of course subject to my presence at home. Tennis is like the official sport in my family.
The record scoring double ton, history in the making and I was drinking Chai in the adjoining hall. Then I returned to my room since "I'm not a cricket follower", and went online. A friend messaged to find out the score with the information that Sachin had scored a double ton. The lazy person that I was decided to check online. Having seen a number of friends in the department CAD lab checking live scorecards, I decided to do the same. As luck would have it Google came to the rescue and I chose the first option that appeared. And voila it said that the match was canceled due to bad playing conditions. Here I was thinking too myself, "that's too bad. Tough luck for Sachin". Status update on facebook immediately followed.
Only a couple of hours later did I realise the information was wrong.
Dependence on information on the internet took a strong hit that day.

2010-02-25T11:22:00.000-08:00

Considering all the free time I seem to be having of late, putting my thoughts into words seems to give me a perspective on things. Its not often that you think and ponder as to
Who I really am?
Where am I headed in this world?
What part do I play?
I know how my actions affect people but still I seem to be distant from all that is around me.
Why is this fear of being alone persisting?
Oh boy the never ending questions. When will it stop?
They say an idle mind is the devil's workshop. Well in my opinion ...blah....
A creative idle mind maybe. What about one with questions....

Being Vindictive

2010-01-18T09:30:00.000-08:00

Let me start my saying that this is how I saw the entire scene being played before my eyes.
A little bit of background information in this case might really help you guys in clearing some of your doubts that might crop up on reading this blog post.

It all began at the end of techNITi 09, a really kicker of a fest (well that's a personal opinion, don't want to piss people off who feel otherwise -read: pali).
There was an adrenaline high of the students at the end of a 3 day fest, who till then were all really frustrated with the college with all the restriction's and curfews for the juniors, lack of permissions, facilities being inadequate, etc managed to brew up a, well lets say, an awesome....hmm.....to put it mildly "something this college campus has never seen in its measly existence that it calls a college life". The fest ended on a sour note with a faculty apparently verbally abusing some students going out for a late night celebration. The highly melodramatic drama that followed involved cops, blocking of the national highway, list of demands, rallies, slogans against the said faculty and well a two week closure of the college. Wow this can really inspire another soap opera courtesy Ekta Kapoor, "Khaani Kollege Ki".

Well to get back to the present day, today the above mentioned faculty enters our class today (by the way he teaches us a subject this semester). Well there was a certain air of animosity that could have been felt in the classroom today. I personally was quite impressed with the way he handled himself. More so with the fact that he actually taught for the first time in English. A feat that is worthy of my praise considering that all this time I was of the opinion that he couldn't speak the language to save his life. The lecture happens with out any interruption from the students. His cell phone does make an appearance on one occasion ( come to think of it, it must have been a new model, something probably bought along with the new car he picked up the previous week all thanks to the sixth pay commission). Well he did break the ice with a nice joke, well it was in Hindi so I ended up giving a smirk after getting the translation from a friend. Near the end of the hour he asked for the time remaining. One student quipped 5 minutes sir.

This is where it started and by "it" read (mental rape, not literally of course since it was done with such ease that we all had our mouths gaping at the end of the lecture mouthing the words " what the f**k just happened?"). Well I shall be giving only the literal translations and the implied meaning since what followed was a series of dialogues in Punjabi and Hindi.

Statement : Mr. _______ ______ is a changed man. (well I'll leave his name out courtesy sake. Ohh and interestingly this part was in English). You will have to be careful this semester. If 100 dogs go up against a lion, the lion can falter. But how many times can 100 dogs gather at once. a Lion infact is a lion. I will not be abusive this time around. But I will do what I can to make your career. Some of you (looking at the prime arbitrators of the previous altercations) will have to be very careful. (and then the lion walked out scaring the shit out of us dogs)
Implications : I will not be as lenient as I'm was before. You will have a tough time because of what you made me go through. You think you won last time. Now I'm your teacher. I hold the power to fail you and make sure you spend a few more of your miserable years in this dump. I will make sure that you get supplies and will make your life a living hell. Especially you few guys who dared to cross me and embarrass me and my family in front of the people I work with. Lets see you try and mess with me again.

Here's hoping that life is a little more merciful to us.....

Pedestrian’s path

2009-07-03T04:12:00.001-07:00

The travel to and fro work is a big bother especially when you are in India. Well let me be a little more specific, in Bangalore. I however have the luxury of hitching a ride for now with my dad and as luck would have it my internship is not in a location that requires mental and physical preparation of 2 hrs and more as some of the unluckier few have to. India being a multitude of people and a even greater multitude of vehicles, we are faced with a severe lack of infrastructure in the terms of our road and highways. Even a simple footpath for the pedestrians is a foregone conclusion in most areas of the city. And if we do happen to see that footpath, well it is mostly occupied with everything from animals to little tuck shops to beggars to that most important cobbler to chai wallas to even two-wheelers. So where is the place for our pedestrians to exert their right of way?

This morning we almost knocked down a pedestrian who decided to take the next best thing to his footpath, the road! And yes the roads do happen to be like those obnoxiously thin friends of ours who eat and eat and yet don't become fat. Here the roads are so overcrowded with people and yet we don't seem to be waking up to the woes of a failed infrastructure system in the city and in fact for most two wheelers the footpath has become the de facto road to many. While I was out cursing the pedestrian for not using his head and walking in the middle of the road and in all certainty being at the end of his sadistic remarks as well, my dad very calmly says "What else can he do?" Looking back I realize that it was the season of the tender coconut's, who majestically were exerting their right over the footpaths as the new gods of the pedestrian's path.

Wonderful world of Microsoft

2009-07-03T03:47:00.001-07:00

Fiddle a little into the enormous utility packages that Microsoft provides and you will realize it is an all encompassing system. My internship this summer for instance required me to prepare a project plan and I had not a clue where to start. At this cross road I come across Microsoft project, which has the complete works making my worries seem distant. Yes the presentation subsequent to that is fulfilled by Microsoft Presentation. Every work related feature is available on this amazing package. My brother for instance is extensively using the one note feature in order to plan an upcoming event at his school.

And here I now sit typing away on my blog, but wait this isn't my blog page. This is another feature within the word document allowing me to access my blog directly from my word document. Hooray for Microsoft.

A 6 year old's note

2009-06-18T03:15:00.000-07:00

I have a really strict fameliy.
My mom is a master at yoga.
My dad worcks hard to owne mouny.
My sister is very good at worck.
And i am a very smart boy

and my nani coocks very well.
And my nana allways gives us chocklets
and when you get hurt super doctere is ther to put a bandade
and my nani feedes you to eandage on your hurt !!!!!!

A 6 year old's prayer

2009-06-18T03:11:00.000-07:00

Note was written in school, where my uncle and aunt read it when the parents were
invited to school for the K-2 Show N' Tell

love God and me

I don't want anything from God
all I want is to protect my family.
and i want a rase car and i want a truck
and a rumort cotrol car.
and a toy gun.

(Notes from Dev Pereira)

G-MAX

2009-06-17T03:16:00.000-07:00

I experienced the fastest, most thrilling bungy in the world at Clarke Quay called G-MAX.(http://www.gmax.co.nz/) The G-MAX was invented in New Zealand by Troy Griffin in 1995. It reaches 60 meters in the air with speeds of up to 200 kph and G Force 5. The poet in me is back talking with reference to the G-MAX seat.

So cold and forlorn on Clarke Quay
Yet every soul glancing her way
Caressing the brave few to lofty heights
With twists and turns into the night

Firm and sturdy built by man
Her metallic hide, lends a hand
The touch of steel calls a foe
Fear arrives so high and so low

With fear and doubt I am embraced
She rocks me with a mothers grace
Her vile smile at an inglorious cues
catapulting towards the velvet skies

Away and beyond I see a starry night
As it moves me in my nauseating plight
Yet beneath in the fluorescent hue
Wonder struck are the scared few

Ode To A Fallen Bird

2009-06-16T04:27:00.000-07:00

In memory of the passengers of Air France Flight 447 who lost there lives.

All alone pretentious to the world
Beneath my gleaning wings, passing me by

Likened to a mothers womb
I Caress souls of the human kind

Gracefully across the velvet skies
Far above the oceanic tides

The gentle purring of my capacious engine
At the overtures of my rhythmic beats

Ominous signs on a distant horizon
The hail and the storm distorts my vision

Cautiously I pass through nature's might
with a prayer and a song to please its sight

A blinding light in the stormy night
The sudden swell of the oceanic skies

As silently a cat stalks its prey
Fate did strike on the precious few

Every passing moment like eternity itself
Oblivious to all, in deaths embrace

Spiraling away from the starlit skies
All in one great crimson tide

Recession - Media - Racisism

2009-06-16T02:34:00.000-07:00

The racism row in Australia has been making the headlines for the last month. It has shown no signs of weaning its ugly head. This is a matter that has to be addressed diplomatically and on a more neutral platform. Racial attacks in the 21st century should be intolerable by law.But are we too blame as well?

The Bangalore mirror recently had a quote from an Indian living in Australia. I find great solace in knowing that Australia isn't a bad place after all and the recession has a more pandemic effect than initially purports to be. Its filthy teeth has sunk itself into our every walk of life. The quote went as follows :
"The Indians are partly to blame. They do not know how to adapt to a different countries customs."
" Indians believe that rules are meant to be broken and do so when they find no cop around"

I will not agree to this being entirely true with all Indians, but yes those few rotten apples give the rest of us a bad name. As the reports suggest that Indians being attacked are by a majority of drug addicts. A proof to the debacle in world economies. Another reason that potential attackers are racially abusing Indians is over the hype created by our Indian media. Our news channels require fodder like cattle in order to stay afloat in these times of economic down turn. Covering the down turn itself seems a farce so they resort to any and all means to keep there viewership going. This gives anti social elements in society a platform to attack us since our media has stereotyped us as people that can be attacked racially and on the side lines allow these attackers to make a quick buck by looting the victim. We do have a right to defend ourselves, but even the so called peaceful rallies will not lead to any respite from these attacks until our media decides to behave more responsibly and not turn every other story as "Breaking news", until then I pray for the safety of Indians in Australia.

Give it a rest

2009-06-16T01:57:00.000-07:00

'It's' all over the news and people are at 'it' again. 'It' draws an analogy with the loss of India yet again in a cricket match. Do not be appalled, I do support India but just refrain myself from the torture of having to watch them lose every time I support them. You can call me superstitious but coincidentally or not the team I support tend to find itself always on the losing side.

I would just like to draw your attention to a couple of headlines that I read and saw on the tube yesterday.
Mission World Domination failed!!
Is Dhoni to blame?
Is Dhoni losing it?
The 5 tactical errors team India made!
Why India crashed out? and on and on....
It also took an ugly turn when the effigies of our Indian cricketers were burnt in the streets after there loss to England.

India is a highly emotional country when it comes to supporting our cricket team. But at the end of the day cricket is nothing more than a game. The IPL saw our Indian players enthrall the crowds with there superb performances. New players emerged and we foresaw a dawn of a new era in Indian cricket. These youngsters were elevated to the post of Gods by our news media channels on the television. All day and night we sang of there praises. But now when India clearly the favourites and defending champions of the tournament lost out, the media bashing started with the most outlandish of comments that I have ever seen.

A game has to be played, watched and enjoyed in the right spirit. The constant post-mortem on various situations, the so called controversies like Dhoni-Shewag saga that only out media seem to pick up, and the vituperative attacks on the sport men do not at the end of the change the fact that India lost. A lot of reasons can be concocted for the loss in this tournament, but for once just read it as a loss by 3 runs. At the end of the day when I watch the news switching between channels that all seem to be airing the same news over and over and over with increased intensity and more expert comments, I start feeling nauseated and I resign myself to turning to a more peaceful form of news media a.k.a. the newspaper.

A test of Patience

2009-06-15T04:52:00.000-07:00

I traveled back and forth form Bangalore to Mysore to celebrate my grand moms 75th birthday. It was a small family get together that was overdue for a long time. The distance is 145 km and the time expected to cover the journey is 2 hrs. Unfortunately we took 3 hrs. I'm not complaining about the state of the roads here. In fact I was amazed by the quality of roads on the highway. It was an extremely smooth ride. We could reach upwards of 140 km/hr easily at certain stretches. Why then did we take 3 hrs ?

The test of patience came when I witnessed the amazing, the mighty, the huge, the over stacked trucks of the Indian automobile sector. Indian road etiquette dictates that slow moving heavy vehicle's have to travel on the extreme left hand side of the road.
Scenario one :
But our super heroes travel in the middle of the road. Probably they have made a deal with all the fuel company's to ensure we mortals spend more time on the roads and average a lesser mileage.
Scenario two:
If they travel on the extreme right, how do they expect any one to overtake them when by law overtaking on the left is an offense. Yet people are forced to breaking the law which in turn causes a lot of mishaps on the highways.
Scenario three:
By far my most favorite one of all. Two slow moving trucks on both lanes traveling abreast with each other trying to find who is the slower fool. 5 minutes behind one of these trucks and you have a pile up of 100 cars behind you.
It is amazing really to watch the faster moving vehicle drivers patiently traveling behind these trucks, launching vituperate attacks against the drivers of the trucks and honking away to kingdom come. When will our heavy vehicle drivers learn there place on the roads?

Technology - Boon or Bane ?

2009-06-15T04:27:00.000-07:00

To continue on my previous post of technology hampering growth, let me quote an incident that happened on the local bus in Singapore during my recent visit. Consider a simple mathematical problem. 5 people are entering a bus. They have to pay SD $1.4 as fare each from point A to point B. What is the total amount spent? Any kid even in the 2nd grade in India will be able to tell you to pay SD $7 instantly.

Singapore has a smart card system wherein you have to purchase a card with a certain currency in it. It can be extensively used on the MRT services offered. These include the local buses, taxis and even on the metro. My family and I were returning from a visit into the city and we decided to take the local bus. However the currency available was insufficient on the smart card. So the bus driver asked us politely to get off the bus. We told him that we would pay cash. He seemed apprehensive but seeing that we were tourist he allowed us inside and started the bus. The following conversation then occurred between my dad and the bus driver.
Dad : "How much Jalan Besar?"
BUS Driver : "Put proper change?"
Dad : "Yes, but how much is it?"
Bus Driver : "Put proper change?"
Dad :(too me)"I don't think he understands English!"
(With a confused expression on his face he keeps looking at the cash in my dads hand and the road ahead. He finally stops the bus at the side of the road and starts calculating the distance cost on a paper. Voila finally he figures it out)
Bus Driver : "SD $1.4"
Dad : "Is that for one person?"
Bus Driver : "SD $1.4"
Dad : "hmmmm..I guess it is. Here is SD $7"
Bus Driver : "Is it the proper change?"
Dad : "Yes. $7 for five people"
Bus Driver : "1.4...1.5..."(mumbles under his breath)
My dad on seeing the trouble he was in starts to take a crash course in mathematics. The bus driver looking convinced at our confidence decides that we must be right after all and opens the change dispenser and issues us the tickets.

This might seem funny on one hand that having such state-of-the-art facilities they are unable to perform simple math but then on the other it can be seen that probably the bus diver was uneducated. Is spite of his lack of knowledge he was extremely courteous towards us. If a lesson is to be learnt here it would be that while on one hand technology is a boon to society at large, we should not take it for granted and the other that in spite of out short comings we should always be courteous as you never know who will blog about you later.

Ignorance is Bliss

2009-06-15T03:34:00.000-07:00

The next generation is going to be a fascinating lot of young people. These children aged below 10 are growing up at a time where technology is hitting the pinnacle of success in almost every field. The recent news about California Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger doing away with the practice of books for young children has caught my attention. The reasons may include the huge deficit in the US budget but I do remember the times I wished we didn't need to carry those heavy book's in our bags as young school kids. It was more like we were in the army where we were preparing for war. The use of the generation next i Pods and i Phones and other such devices as a tool for educational purposes ? Well it is amazing. The future is upon us and we have to keep in touch with the changing times. But too much of technology hampers our growth. That is yet another issue on which ill give a small post later

I spent last Saturday at Wonder La, the amusement park in Bangalore, with my cousins and there cousins. Confused??? Well I have two kid cousins from my dad's side and these cousins have two more from there mom's side. To just put things into perspective I helped my uncle to baby sit these 4 kids between the age groups of 6-9. Yes they were a handful but I was amazed at the level of intelligence and the lack of fear that they showed. They were able to operate on one of those palm top kinda cell phones. I am not too tech savvy but it looked like a blackberry but it was not. I'm pretty darn sure they knew exactly which make and model of the cell they were operating on even if it was just too play a game.

I myself lost my fear for the water at a very late age. Probably I still fear the water but there is a certain confidence with the knowledge that I am a strong swimmer. But these kids have no knowledge about the dangers of deep water. There ignorance is innocent. Knowing that the pool is a fun place is enough to satiate there needs.

A water park is not a place where 6 year old kids can be left alone. The water park a nice family pool with a number of slides pouring into the pool area on which these 4 kids were constantly running up and coming down the slides. The number of times they slipped seemed to have no effect on there fear for the water is spite of the pain they felt upon each injury that they sustained. This one time I happened to be behind my cousin when he almost hit himself on his head but ended up hurting a toe. There was a slight cry that escaped his lips but it was quickly lost in his zeal to complete the ride he had set out to do. He must have told himself that "there is no time to cry, got to finish a 100 turns on the slippy slide".

I was appalled when I saw that the 6 year old boys could swim. Well they knew that they had gone for swimming classes probably unaware of the height of the pool which was mostly about 2 feet, but swimming here at the amusement park's wave pool that extended up to 6 feet at the deep end. With there limited knowledge and there small bodies which is no match for the powerful waves they fearlessly entered the wave pool's waters. With my heart in my mouth I watched the waves crashing down on them and they oblivious to the dangers that can arise from the waves, continued splashing about happily in the huge wave pool. Let us not for a moment assume that the waves were not daunting, but in fact these were one of the most powerful waves that I have ever come across in an amusement park. The wave was able to push me all the wave beak to the shallow end in 4 tries and these kids well in a single push were being pounded all the wave back to the shallow end. Since I took it open myself to keep an eye on them, being the big cousin that I was, I was in constant fear of them getting hurt.

How innocent it is that these little young ones lack fear. In there angelic innocence they are able to enjoy the full measure of life's small joys and we the older folk are left to tend to not only our fears but also our fears for there safety. Ignorance is blissful indeed...

An apple a day keeps the doctor away?

2009-06-12T03:04:00.000-07:00

Who in God's name came up with that one. Here I am minding my own business, eating the fruit of "knowing What is good and Evil" as it is known in the Bible when........
I bite into the lusciously big red juicy apple. With every bite I take, the sweet taste is satiating my senses. Gently holding it from the poles perfectly placed and balanced I look deep into the marks created by my teeth as it gourged into its wholesome body. What a beautiful and resplendent fruit I selected from the road side vendor. God's creation in the palm of my hands waiting to be voraciously consumed by me the mighty warrior. Muhuhahahahha.....
The next bite and arghhhhhhhhhhhh....I choke desperately on the lump of the juicy apple that only seconds before seemed so welcoming and almost angelic. But here it was an agent of excruciating pain and slowly it was overwhelming my sense of all consciousness. As I lay there suffocating in the sweetness that was once angelic and divine, now taking me to my final resting place in fear.
Then the hands of my brother pats me firmly from behind. I feel a sudden shift in pressure of the lump and then another firm pat and the juicy apple piece was lying on the floor by my feet. So small and insignificant and yet had the power and the might to bring me fearful and in pain down to my knees. Yes an apple a day keeps the doctor away but also keeps the undertakers on speed dial.

Angels and Demons

2009-06-12T02:34:00.000-07:00

This has nothing to do with the Dan Brown novel and to be absolutely truthful with you, I have no idea where this is taking me either. Fact of the matter is that I find blogging extremely remunerative. The song I have written is verbatim, the poem's are from the heart and the other writing is part of my vernacular. Yet I find it a challenging task to put those crazy thoughts into words as they try to scuttle away. It is said that the idle mind is a devils workshop. As long as I am doing something, anything, my mind's thirst is satiated. Here I sit trying to exercise those muscles in my mind in order to satisfy a thirst.

I believe that as long as I keep getting forward the angels lead me and in my quite moments as I start speaking to myself, mulling over things untold and undone, it is the demons with whom I converse with. They lead be down a part where I am to myself scurrilous. As I ruminate the Demons come out of the shadows and fill my head with thoughts that take me astray. Why don't the Angels come out as there resplendent selves and break through the murky shadows that cloud my judgment. The Forces of evil are at work in our minds and we have to hold on to that tiny ray of hope as it slowly scuttles away.

The Angels and Demons in my mind may be the Cops and Robbers in yours or even the age old Good versus Evil in yours. Here's to hoping the battles of good over evil and angels over demons are won in our minds.

Silence is Golden

2009-06-11T21:41:00.000-07:00

There is just too much of Democracy in our country. The world over Indian's walk tall with pride with the tag for having the largest democracy in the world. Our recent Lok Sabha elections is a testimony to the fact. But is such a liberal and open system good for a developing nation. Seeing the freedom given to us I seriously believe that a little anarchy is the need of the hour.

Let me just raise the most recent issue that is making the rounds. Virender Shewag injured his shoulder in an IPL match and now has been ruled out of the ongoing 20-20 World Cup. That should have been the headlines in the sports page of all our leading daily's, but what reads is his so called ' problems' with captain M S Dhoni and the 'cover up' of his injured shoulder.

"Silence is golden" and "Action speaks louder than words"

All these beautiful sayings and all we hear is the constant drone of people's voices. The news channels going on and on, on a matter that is by far none of our concern. The constant rote of news gives me a headache. Even more so making up the news as they go along in order just to ensure there PR ratings hit the bench marks set and well just to ensure that they stay in business. When was knowledge ever business? And not to forget my favorite (read sarcastic) the omnipresent experts who seem to know just about everything about any given situation. Ex-cricketers offering an analysis of a 20-20 practice match. Ironically these so called experts have never played the shorter-shorter version of the game ever in there lives. Yet pompously they sit offering opinions to the news anchors who sit by hanging on to every word that leaves there lips.

Personally speaking all of us wanted Shewag to play because we all believe his blistering show at the start of the Indian innings is what takes the score card forward and makes India seem a more formidable opponent. His blitzkrieg method has been the Indian offensive strategy all along and we were disappointed at his omission. But that just wasn't enough of a headliner. Trust our media to turn a molehill into a mountain.

At the end of the day what we really want is the news "as it is, how it is, and when it is" and during the rest of the time, "silence is bliss".

Glimpses In the Morn

2009-06-09T03:07:00.000-07:00

Step after step that I continue to take
The ground so swiftly moves away
A constant thumping on the concrete
Disturbing the peace that was morning

Reaching the bend I take a pause
For foes unknown in the early morn
I look first the left than the right
Across the road and onwards the flight

The first look of the hounds and other early beasts
Nimbly they lay in the cold and facing the east
My sudden movements awaken stupor
With barks and shrieks they run for cover

The glistening of the light across the water
The clear blue sky dancing hither slither
A sudden ripple disturbing its poise
the first catch of the fisherman's seines

The whirring of the wind in my ear
Drowns out whines and cry's of queers
The old , the young, the sick the strong
Drone on and on and on and on

Onward I run, without a stop
Blurring images passing me by
I reach the end and turn around
Returning along the path of sound

Now peace and quiet filling me from within
The rustle of trees bustling in the wind
The sound of old and the sound of new
All in one harmonious flute

The Champion Roger Federer

2009-06-08T01:27:00.000-07:00

Roger Federer has finally overcome that obstacle that has by far eluded him the most. But the joy of having to know that it wasn't against Nadal is probably eating him from the inside. All this while it was the knowledge of having come so close and not been able to hold that silver trophy and now it might be for the obvious reasons.
On one hand he has won the Roland Garros Trophy against the Robin Soderling, who is now known as 'the giant killer', the man who will be remembered to have created the greatest upset in the world of tennis. Here Federer would have been thrilled that his nemesis wasn't present to torment him here at the Roland Garros as he so often does year after year successfully. But then on the other hand defeating the no. 23 seed in straight sets with the ease that was unbelievable. You will have to admit that Federer probably played the best tennis of his life in the final compared to all the other matches in the tournament. His run up too the tournament was very shabby, but on the day that he made his history his performance was apparent by the confidence he had knowing that this was his time.
All most seems that the French Open Trophy was handed to him on a platter.

The world no. 1, Rafael Nadal, his nemesis crashing out in Round 4
All the other top seeds losing out
Soderling himself putting on a miserable show
The rain not crashing down until the presentations

But ponder all we can because in the end it was Roger Federer's day. He was meant to have this crowning moment which was long overdue. The world over people prayed for him. And Knowing of the great respect that Rafael Nadal and Roger Federer share with each other, Nadal too probably would have wanted Federer to win, considering that Soderling had defeated him. Finally now all we fans of the great Roger Federer can say that this win asserts Federe's supremacy over the sport and a million hearts the world over. He might have seen very emotional at the moment of his win but the great champion might just name his soon to be born (mostly) son as 'Roland'.

a' la poet

2009-06-05T03:42:00.000-07:00

My feeble attempts at writing poetry
Bears its resemblance to Daughtry

The fun we had and the times we shared
Was it all bad and a lie that none cared

To trust in you was naive of me
To continue to do so, what a fool I'd be

Ever present was I to lend a hand
Yet naught one I see in this land

All alone now in this dark embrace
How did i fall so far from grace

The beauty i see and behold in you
Ain't not worth the pain i feel with you

I'd be a friend in good times and bad
But all i felt was the cold and the sand

The roads we took were green and lush
And now its filled with a bitter slush

I know its not worth the post, but man writing this was tough.
Kudos to those people writing poetry

"Love or Hate"

2009-06-05T03:19:00.000-07:00

WASHINGTON POST COMPETITION ASKED FOR A TWO-LINE RHYME WITH THE MOST ROMANTIC FIRST LINE, BUT THE LEAST ROMANTIC SECOND LINE

My darling, my lover, my beautiful wife,
Marrying you screwed up my life.

I see your face when I am dreaming.
That's why I always wake up screaming.

Kind, intelligent, loving and hot;
This describes everything you are not.

I thought that I could love no other --
that is until I met your brother..

Roses are red, violets are blue, sugar is sweet, and so are you.
But the roses are wilting, the violets are dead, the sugar bowl's empty and so is your head.

I want to feel your sweet embrace;
But don't take that paper bag off your face.

I love your smile, your face, and your eyes --
Damn, I'm good at telling lies!

My love, you take my breath away.
What have you stepped in to smell this way?

My feelings for you no words can tell,
Except for maybe 'Go to hell.'

What inspired this amorous rhyme?
Two parts tequila, one part lime.

If only!!

2009-06-05T02:48:00.000-07:00

Sigh......Deeper Sigh....Deepest Sigh.......
Damm I'm not on a farm!!!
I can smell the early drops of rain on the ground below. The intoxicating odour that has envoloped me into its warm embrace. The cmell of the mud mixing with the rain drops fills me up and is overwhelming me.
Damm I'm not on the edge of a cliff!!
I can feel the gentle evening breeze rushing past my face. The constant steady wind that brushes aside the little tuft of hair on its every passing. The feeling of wanting to held close in the warm embrace of a loved one at such a moment.
Damm I'm not on the beach!!
The feel of the grainy ground below my feet. The way it is soft and yet firm to allow my feet to firmly find a grip. The coarseness reminding me of the numerous times the fatigue that can be washed away by these theraupatic sands.
Damm I'm not on a quilt!!
The soft feel of it around my body as it takes shape around me. The embrace that gives warmth and at the same time is soft and gentle like the hands of a mother holding on to her new born child. And to the child in its mother's protective embrace.
Damm I'm not on a hammock!!
The slight rocking movement of my body resting but yet held firmly. The comfort of the movement neither making me giddy nor giving me complete stability. The feeling off being out on a limb but also in control of my actions.

Alas I sit on a rocking chair with a back rest that gives me a sense that it is about to fall with the slightest of pressure. The height that keeps decreasing because of the constant use of the height adjuster. I have taken out my leather shoes and can feel the coarseness of the rough jute mat that covers the floors, on which sand and muck have collected on the daily movement of the employees at this firm. The standing fan that continues to whir away giving some comfort to 3 people sitting abreast with each other. and lastly the pitter patter of a leaking tap on the floor that drains out into the street with a muddy embankment. Here I sit with my senses dreaming of all the comforts while the mind is at work reviewing literature on Enterprise Resource planning.
Location : Cubicle 018, 2nd Floor, ABS Pvt. Ltd.
State of mind: Looking forward to the weekend
Time : 3:15 PM on a Friday

The Indian Warriors

2009-06-05T00:05:00.000-07:00

I was at the Jurong bird park in Singapore watching the main characters of Happy feet a.k.a. the Penguins. By the way we Indians seem to travel a lot in spite of the current recession that has hit the world in general. The majority of tourist there were Indian. It so happened a couple of damsels happen to be walking in the same display room. They were locals women. There also was a huge Indian contingent, of men with their wives and kids and aunts and uncles and grandpas and grandmas. Well we are a densely populated nation.
Our Indian warriors a.k.a. the men, decide to capture the beautiful birds on film. Wait I'm not talking about the Penguins, rather the damsels who happen to be looking at the Penguins. I have to admit that I didn't notice the exchange of pleasantries between the warriors and the damsels but the two women obliged our warriors for a photo. When the trophy was obtained and a smile seen on the face of the damsels was noticed our warriors decide to try further. Each warrior decided to pose with the trophy alone. They were again obliged much to my surprise. Now after an extensive round of photo shoots in which a great many people walked past looking tickled and then probably looking at the color of the skin in disgust, our warriors decide to bid adieu to the damsels. With their head held high they left the battleground after winning the battle of the penguins vs the damsels.
Disgusting is the only thing that comes to my mind. The irony of the great photo shoot was the warrior's wives who were the ones photographing their men with the damsels. We call ourselves a nation of people with rich culture. Where is self-abasement part of our culture? Coming back to India the news of racial abuse in Australia makes the headlines. And we wonder why we are hated the world over for just being Indian!!!

Indianness of Indian's

2009-06-04T23:56:00.000-07:00

"India shining", a paraphrase are politicians seem to be advocating with great gusto. I was vacationing last week in Singapore and in the MRT station I happen to see our Indian tourism hoardings all over the place. And damm we look good. The Taj Mahal to the classical dancers of South India. Our country looks like a nice place to visit with its rich cultural heritage.
On one hand we are out advertising for tourism and on the other when out guests visit us, they are shown our Indianness. Yes Indians the world over are treated differently. Is it because of our color? No I seriously doubt it. Color has nothing to do with the way we behave.
Let me raise a couple of issues that I find so very disturbing every time I see and Indian being Indian in front of a guest from outside.

If a firang as they are often called happen to be of the fair skin then the libido of the Indian man seems to take a jump start. We behave like the fair folk have descended from the stars and are down on earth clueless about the mating process. They do know!!!

The so called stares that we give are seen. We might try to hide our intentions but the pervert nature of our peeking from the corner of our eyes is noticed. It is downright creepy if it happens to a lady and well the firang men are at least safe as of now in India as the gay folk out here are probably not yet into fair skin.

The art of photography is an ancient art. In today's world we are given a world of opportunities in the form of technological advancements to capture the sweeter moments in life. Yes you get the idea, of capturing some firang's beauty as a trophy. That is down right disgusting.

Another issue that comes to my mind is the fleecing of our guests. There is a great discrimination when we visit our heritage sights in our country. One rate is set for the Indians and another for the foreigners. And yes the carrying of photography equipment is an addendum to the cost. My travel abroad was devoid of any extra payment of either being a visitor or the camera that I carried. Yes it is a form of revenue generation for the country, but I doubt that gives any of us the right to overcharge our guests.

Our Indian culture says that guests hold the place of God. I think it is high time we decide to follow the culture that we so staunchly boast.

Blogging

2009-06-04T23:52:00.000-07:00

Wow...it has been a while since I have blogged...What is blogging?
Is it the gift of the gab or just how fast one can arrive at a creatively structured sentence and tap away on the keyboard of your personal computer.
I started blogging after I watched a few of my friends tapping away oblivious to my presence in the room. What is this art that allows a person to pen his thought's down or to be a little more literate to key in his thoughts?
Let me introduce you to this friend, who claims the soul of a clown lives inside of him. In his previous life he must have been Charlie Chaplin or some other great comedian. The gift of the gab comes naturally to him. Let me however refrain myself from encouraging him on this forum. But I have to honestly say it is a pleasure to read his thoughts. The sensitivities he shows in his writing disappears when he open's his mouth. A frivolous thing has digging your nose is made like a grand adventure worthy of a Dreamworks production.
But not to take the credit away from Google. The integration of all these awesome applications on the web has made it possible to just have a single user name and password in place and still be able to start a new application with ease.
So here I am keying in facts that we are all aware of and in the process abasing myself to the likes of you. Looks like the creative or the gift of the gab is just one of those things that I don't have. So Ill sign off till I find another way to allow myself to be abashed.

Cheerio..

To Err is Human, To Forgive Divine

2009-04-29T02:01:00.000-07:00

I can forgive the man who kills me, but I will still be dead
I can forgive the one who lies to me, but distrust will still be bred.
I can forgive the one who cuts me, but I will still bleed.
I can forgive the one who takes from me but I will still be in need.

I can forgive the one who hurts me, but it does not erase the pain.
To forgive the unrepentant heart, means they'll only do it again.
"I'm sorry" does not stop the blood nor tears that freely flow.
How can one cause such an effect and claim they did not know?

To cause a wound in heart or flesh, may heal but it takes time.
Forgiveness does not erase the fact that there was ever a crime.
Forgiveness does the soul much good, and letting go helps for sure
But there are consequences for every deed that its victims must endure.

Barack Obamas's Victory Speech

2009-04-29T01:36:00.000-07:00

Sixteen months have passed since we first stood together on the steps of the Old State Capitol in Springfield, Illinois. Thousands of miles have been traveled. Millions of voices have been heard. And because of what you said – because you decided that change must come to Washington; because you believed that this year must be different than all the rest; because you chose to listen not to your doubts or your fears but to your greatest hopes and highest aspirations, tonight we mark the end of one historic journey with the beginning of another – a journey that will bring a new and better day to America. Tonight, I can stand before you and say that I will be the Democratic nominee for President of the United States.

I want to thank every American who stood with us over the course of this campaign – through the good days and the bad; from the snows of Cedar Rapids to the sunshine of Sioux Falls. And tonight I also want to thank the men and woman who took this journey with me as fellow candidates for President.

At this defining moment for our nation, we should be proud that our party put forth one of the most talented, qualified field of individuals ever to run for this office. I have not just competed with them as rivals, I have learned from them as friends, as public servants, and as patriots who love America and are willing to work tirelessly to make this country better. They are leaders of this party, and leaders that America will turn to for years to come.

That is particularly true for the candidate who has traveled further on this journey than anyone else. Senator Hillary Clinton has made history in this campaign not just because she's a woman who has done what no woman has done before, but because she's a leader who inspires millions of Americans with her strength, her courage, and her commitment to the causes that brought us here tonight.

We've certainly had our differences over the last sixteen months. But as someone who's shared a stage with her many times, I can tell you that what gets Hillary Clinton up in the morning – even in the face of tough odds – is exactly what sent her and Bill Clinton to sign up for their first campaign in Texas all those years ago; what sent her to work at the Children's Defense Fund and made her fight for health care as First Lady; what led her to the United States Senate and fueled her barrier-breaking campaign for the presidency – an unyielding desire to improve the lives of ordinary Americans, no matter how difficult the fight may be. And you can rest assured that when we finally win the battle for universal health care in this country, she will be central to that victory. When we transform our energy policy and lift our children out of poverty, it will be because she worked to help make it happen. Our party and our country are better off because of her, and I am a better candidate for having had the honor to compete with Hillary Rodham Clinton.

There are those who say that this primary has somehow left us weaker and more divided. Well I say that because of this primary, there are millions of Americans who have cast their ballot for the very first time. There are Independents and Republicans who understand that this election isn't just about the party in charge of Washington, it's about the need to change Washington. There are young people, and African-Americans, and Latinos, and women of all ages who have voted in numbers that have broken records and inspired a nation.

All of you chose to support a candidate you believe in deeply. But at the end of the day, we aren't the reason you came out and waited in lines that stretched block after block to make your voice heard. You didn't do that because of me or Senator Clinton or anyone else. You did it because you know in your hearts that at this moment – a moment that will define a generation – we cannot afford to keep doing what we've been doing. We owe our children a better future. We owe our country a better future. And for all those who dream of that future tonight, I say – let us begin the work together. Let us unite in common effort to chart a new course for America.

In just a few short months, the Republican Party will arrive in St. Paul with a very different agenda. They will come here to nominate John McCain, a man who has served this country heroically. I honor that service, and I respect his many accomplishments, even if he chooses to deny mine. My differences with him are not personal; they are with the policies he has proposed in this campaign.

Because while John McCain can legitimately tout moments of independence from his party in the past, such independence has not been the hallmark of his presidential campaign.

It's not change when John McCain decided to stand with George Bush ninety-five percent of the time, as he did in the Senate last year.

It's not change when he offers four more years of Bush economic policies that have failed to create well-paying jobs, or insure our workers, or help Americans afford the skyrocketing cost of college – policies that have lowered the real incomes of the average American family, widened the gap between Wall Street and Main Street, and left our children with a mountain of debt.

And it's not change when he promises to continue a policy in Iraq that asks everything of our brave men and women in uniform and nothing of Iraqi politicians – a policy where all we look for are reasons to stay in Iraq, while we spend billions of dollars a month on a war that isn't making the American people any safer.

So I'll say this – there are many words to describe John McCain's attempt to pass off his embrace of George Bush's policies as bipartisan and new. But change is not one of them.

Change is a foreign policy that doesn't begin and end with a war that should've never been authorized and never been waged. I won't stand here and pretend that there are many good options left in Iraq, but what's not an option is leaving our troops in that country for the next hundred years – especially at a time when our military is overstretched, our nation is isolated, and nearly every other threat to America is being ignored.

We must be as careful getting out of Iraq as we were careless getting in – but start leaving we must. It's time for Iraqis to take responsibility for their future. It's time to rebuild our military and give our veterans the care they need and the benefits they deserve when they come home. It's time to refocus our efforts on al Qaeda's leadership and Afghanistan, and rally the world against the common threats of the 21st century – terrorism and nuclear weapons; climate change and poverty; genocide and disease. That's what change is.

Change is realizing that meeting today's threats requires not just our firepower, but the power of our diplomacy – tough, direct diplomacy where the President of the United States isn't afraid to let any petty dictator know where America stands and what we stand for. We must once again have the courage and conviction to lead the free world. That is the legacy of Roosevelt, and Truman, and Kennedy. That's what the American people want. That's what change is.

Change is building an economy that rewards not just wealth, but the work and workers who created it. It's understanding that the struggles facing working families can't be solved by spending billions of dollars on more tax breaks for big corporations and wealthy CEOs, but by giving a the middle-class a tax break, and investing in our crumbling infrastructure, and transforming how we use energy, and improving our schools, and renewing our commitment to science and innovation. It's understanding that fiscal responsibility and shared prosperity can go hand-in-hand, as they did when Bill Clinton was President.

John McCain has spent a lot of time talking about trips to Iraq in the last few weeks, but maybe if he spent some time taking trips to the cities and towns that have been hardest hit by this economy – cities in Michigan, and Ohio, and right here in Minnesota – he'd understand the kind of change that people are looking for.

Maybe if he went to Iowa and met the student who works the night shift after a full day of class and still can't pay the medical bills for a sister who's ill, he'd understand that she can't afford four more years of a health care plan that only takes care of the healthy and wealthy. She needs us to pass health care plan that guarantees insurance to every American who wants it and brings down premiums for every family who needs it. That's the change we need.

Maybe if he went to Pennsylvania and met the man who lost his job but can't even afford the gas to drive around and look for a new one, he'd understand that we can't afford four more years of our addiction to oil from dictators. That man needs us to pass an energy policy that works with automakers to raise fuel standards, and makes corporations pay for their pollution, and oil companies invest their record profits in a clean energy future – an energy policy that will create millions of new jobs that pay well and can't be outsourced. That's the change we need.

And maybe if he spent some time in the schools of South Carolina or St. Paul or where he spoke tonight in New Orleans, he'd understand that we can't afford to leave the money behind for No Child Left Behind; that we owe it to our children to invest in early childhood education; to recruit an army of new teachers and give them better pay and more support; to finally decide that in this global economy, the chance to get a college education should not be a privilege for the wealthy few, but the birthright of every American. That's the change we need in America. That's why I'm running for President.

The other side will come here in September and offer a very different set of policies and positions, and that is a debate I look forward to. It is a debate the American people deserve. But what you don't deserve is another election that's governed by fear, and innuendo, and division. What you won't hear from this campaign or this party is the kind of politics that uses religion as a wedge, and patriotism as a bludgeon – that sees our opponents not as competitors to challenge, but enemies to demonize. Because we may call ourselves Democrats and Republicans, but we are Americans first. We are always Americans first.

Despite what the good Senator from Arizona said tonight, I have seen people of differing views and opinions find common cause many times during my two decades in public life, and I have brought many together myself. I've walked arm-in-arm with community leaders on the South Side of Chicago and watched tensions fade as black, white, and Latino fought together for good jobs and good schools. I've sat across the table from law enforcement and civil rights advocates to reform a criminal justice system that sent thirteen innocent people to death row. And I've worked with friends in the other party to provide more children with health insurance and more working families with a tax break; to curb the spread of nuclear weapons and ensure that the American people know where their tax dollars are being spent; and to reduce the influence of lobbyists who have all too often set the agenda in Washington.

In our country, I have found that this cooperation happens not because we agree on everything, but because behind all the labels and false divisions and categories that define us; beyond all the petty bickering and point-scoring in Washington, Americans are a decent, generous, compassionate people, united by common challenges and common hopes. And every so often, there are moments which call on that fundamental goodness to make this country great again.

So it was for that band of patriots who declared in a Philadelphia hall the formation of a more perfect union; and for all those who gave on the fields of Gettysburg and Antietam their last full measure of devotion to save that same union.

So it was for the Greatest Generation that conquered fear itself, and liberated a continent from tyranny, and made this country home to untold opportunity and prosperity.

So it was for the workers who stood out on the picket lines; the women who shattered glass ceilings; the children who braved a Selma bridge for freedom's cause.

So it has been for every generation that faced down the greatest challenges and the most improbable odds to leave their children a world that's better, and kinder, and more just.

And so it must be for us.

America, this is our moment. This is our time. Our time to turn the page on the policies of the past. Our time to bring new energy and new ideas to the challenges we face. Our time to offer a new direction for the country we love.

The journey will be difficult. The road will be long. I face this challenge with profound humility, and knowledge of my own limitations. But I also face it with limitless faith in the capacity of the American people. Because if we are willing to work for it, and fight for it, and believe in it, then I am absolutely certain that generations from now, we will be able to look back and tell our children that this was the moment when we began to provide care for the sick and good jobs to the jobless; this was the moment when the rise of the oceans began to slow and our planet began to heal; this was the moment when we ended a war and secured our nation and restored our image as the last, best hope on Earth. This was the moment – this was the time – when we came together to remake this great nation so that it may always reflect our very best selves, and our highest ideals. Thank you, God bless you, and may God bless the United States of America.

Fear of Death

2009-04-20T02:45:00.000-07:00

The fear of Death is prevalent today in all forms. 'She' refers to my fears of the death.

She seems dressed in all the rings
Of past fatalities
So fragile yet so devious
She continues to see it
Climatic hands that press
Her temples and my chest
Enter the night that she came home
Forever

She is everything and more
The solemn hypnotic
My Dahlia bathed in possession
She is home to me

I get nervous, perverse, when I see her it's worse
But the stress is astounding
It's now or never she's coming home
Forever

Hard to say what caught my attention
Fixed and crazy, Aphid attraction
Carve my name in my face, to recognize
Such a pheromone cult to terrorize

I won't let this build up inside of me

I'm a slave, and I am a master
No restraints and, unchecked collectors
I exist through my need, to self oblige
She is something in me, that I despise

I won't let this build up inside of me

She isn't real
I Can't make her real
She isn't real
I Can't make her real

- compiled from Vermillion by Slipknot

'Roasted'

2009-04-20T01:43:00.000-07:00

Yes, I am in the North of India. Punjab a land of fertile soils, but why oh why this extreme heat and cold? Come Summers I say to myself "I can manage the weather in Winter", and come winter, I say " This cold is unbearable ". Do we really think that the weather Gods give a rat's ass about our condition. With the dawn of this summer, I have had a great share of the summers wrath upon me.
I woke up at the crack of noon, finding myself suffocating in the mere dryness of the single seater room's air. The mesh door which had allowed in cool winds the previous night was overcome by the strong dry wind which seemed to be telling me" It's about time you get your lazy ass out of bed". How did it find itself with such an overwhelming power, I wondered to myself. I was being 'roasted'.
Have you ever seen the the roasting of peanuts on a dry flame over a sand bath with the right addition of salt.' Kadlai Kai"(salted peanuts) as I have always known it was a great appetizer. The Roast of Hugh Hefner which I happened to watch later that night too was nothing compared to what I experienced that evening. The dry air hitting against my face, the small beads of sweat that purposefully moved as in afraid that the wind would carry it away and destroy it. The trace of salt left after the water droplet was carried away on a fiery wind. The wind rushing at me from all directions with traces of sand ensuring a perfect roasting condition to the being that is me. The container was well the concrete road of my institute. The chardness that I later felt along the creases of my face was a proof to the mighty power of the wind. With the movement of my limbs against this wind, I felt a faint sense of fear. Why faint you might ask? Well to justify myself the fear of the dryness and heat was greater. The wind in fact gave me the power to continue along my path. Fear was still present like the omnipresence of a divine being and I felt fear of the soul of the wind being mixed homogeneously with the dry heat. Where were all the water droplets being carried away too. It is said that " Drops of water make an ocean" and yet the wind moved on and on and on. And never did a drop fall.

"Oh Mighty Wind let naught your egoism make you forget the true purpose of your power. Carry away the water but do shower it on us mediocre beings at times like these. I beg of you. "

Divine Providence

2008-12-22T12:52:00.000-08:00

How often we are thankful when a situation that could have turned for the worst is averted my some miraculous means?

This is one among the many questions I keep asking myself, when I ponder on the situation's I faced. It does happen that we often are too preoccupied with our own caliber and ability that we fail to recognize the work of a higher power. Today I was faced with a potentially embarrassing and scary situation and at the end of the embarrassment I saw the work of a divine power. There is no other way I could have experience this and yes just mere coincidence is not an answer.
I caught the 5 o'clock train from Jalandhar to Delhi. It has become a habit of late to experience travelling, and by experience I mean "travelling without reservation". I haven't yet toed the line of ticketless travel. My journey was an eventful one owing mainly to the presence of 3 juniors of mine who too be quite frank were making me conscious with all the "yes Nishan Sir" and "no Nishan Sir's". The respect here given is not demanded but is merely a matter of peer pressure.
I unlike these there bachaas do not get high in the traditional sense of the word. I merely get high on good chocolate, Pink Floyd's music and on most occasions for the mere fun of it. Yeah I do fake it.
It all started with the first puff, on a train filled with passengers. Wait, let me rephrase that sentence. It all started with the first puff, on a train with uncle and aunt’s, grandma's and grandpa's, cranky kids, toddlers, that annoying little kid, a hot chic, the beggar who hasn’t showered in like forever, the e-u-no(ks)-whos , the pantry guy, the maid , the chachii, the basically the who's who of an Indian multi-faceted race.
The second puff never saw the light of day as the Indian Police wale was quick to arrive at the scene and scare the shit out of this young fallen astray young junior of mine. The cop threatened the kid with Rs 5000/- fine and then Rs 1000/- fine, and gradually kept bringing it down. The point reached when he demanded Rs 300/- and the junior a young engineer or should I say business man in the making told him that he had only Rs 50/- . Hence the bargaining began. Back and forth numbers were exchanged, when finally the cop’s trump card is played. The 6 months imprisonment fine. The cop jumps back to Rs 500/- and the bargaining continues. After much dilly-dallying the cops conscience kicks in and a young sardar decides to step in and end the show. He charges at the cop and discreetly places an Rs 50/- note in his hand. The subsequent statements exchanged were in-coherent, but it ended with the cop not taking the money, talking about a family friend to the sardar and demanding we go to the end of the carriage with the maximum person per meter area and as well as raising his voice making sure all around could see him performing his 'duty'.

Was it God's providence that helped us when we were most likely to be thrown out of the train or at least fined a hefty sum of our highly constrained wallets stash of the getting home cash?

The next half hour of the journey was passed in silence fearful of the cop’s return, when suddenly the ticket checker decides to check our tickets again. On the mere need to show my obedience with the law, I was quick to hand over my ticket to the ticket checker. Who I have to add took some interest in my ticket. After questions that were "Where are u getting in from" to "Have u been standing all this time" to "How many are you?” we were given the last 4 unreserved tickets in a different compartment, while the co-passengers stood with open mouths.

Was it God's providence that helped us when we were most likely to be standing the entire 6 hours of our journey to Delhi in the winter cold?

Thank you God for your providence.

Arise lazy fool

2008-12-07T09:40:00.000-08:00

Crunch time...A time of fear at the knowledge of having people counting on me and in my lack of interest and lack of accountability to anyone. Why is it that I find myself in this self dug grave in the first place. Is it my lack of interest, or is it my alter ego, or maybe its a girl.. well as wonderful it would be to say that its that special person, I have to be modest and admit to being just lazy.
Laziness in me is not the lack of interest but is in fact my knowledge or rather ego in knowing that without moi, those so called people depending on me would not be able to complete what they set out to do. "Maybe such a thought is just inherent in me!". Does this make me a mean person or does it just show me as human.

If you ever examine yourself as critically as possible you will find numerous faults in you and well an equal number of plus points. What then does one do to minimize those vices that are harmful to one's growth? There are a number of measures that we take, a number of resolutions we make and to a God up above, elaborate promises for his grace. I admit to critically examining myself and knowing that being lazy is something that was never inherent in me. I was even as a child known to be a fidgety fart. But yet I have slept on the path of fallen cowards and mighty warriors. When did this ego set in, I ask myself. I have no answer. Is it important to know the fault or is it important to eliminate it? How critically can we in fact examine ourselves. That small misdeed unnoticed by a friend or that tiny lie to cover up a weak moment, from our parents. Who then is to judge us. Yes I agree there is always someone watching us. Our conscience in fact keeps prodding us time and again at every wrong turn we take. But as we get more materialistic in life that wrong turn become a right turn and then many wrong turns turn into a right path.

Have you ever come across that friend who is annoying yet truthful. Who doesn't mix words and is as blunt as possible. Who's does not hide false glorification's in layers of sweet but feeds the bitter truth. Well neither have I. Yes sometimes a genuine at face value person does cross our path but there too we find a mask of deceit. This is mask is worn by all. We are in fact clowns in this large stage play called life. Acknowledging our short comings is the first step to redemption. Being told bluntly that my being lazy pissed someone off was an acknowledgement to me in itself.

This one vice I had affected my plus points. How was I to know when this vice would get the better of me. This lazy attitude affected the working relation with friends, family and even with myself in terms of frivolous concepts such as attendance at the class room. I guess there comes a time when we often are lost in our own misdeeds, but instead of brooding on what is lost we should make an effort to strive forward. Here i find myself turning this vice into a plus point by the following steps.

Acknowledgement:
I am lazy and yet I know that I'm not.

Resolution:
With my back against the wall I say to myself "would you rather be there for someone or spend your time knowing of the missed opportunity to make someone smile?".

Effort:
Getting that lazy but out of its present resting position and moving forward.

Confrontation:
A simple effort of moving a few muscles and performing the simple task of smiling.

Result:
A health relationship with those that come in contact with you.

Arise lazy fool.....arise.....

My Baggy Sweater

2008-12-07T07:55:00.000-08:00

Brrrr......The fog settling over the campus....The constant rustling of the trees....The crackling of the fire at the nearby dhabba ..... The baggy yet comfortable woolen sweaters ....Hands deep within my pockets....but wait i have no pockets in this tracks of mine...What was I thinking?...I should have had the presence of mind to wear the red and white striped tracks and not the white with red striped tracks...brrrr.....What should i do???

The answer so simple yet so elegant in its approach. The 'baggy sweater' an often victim of mockery, my companion here on this cold Sunday evening presents itself as my saviour. Raising my arms within the sweater i make my way back to the suite in a 4 storied building. All the while i thinking to myself "If I only had those woolen gloves?" , "If I only had those other tracks on?" , "If only I had decided not on making my way to the ground for an evening jog, but not really fitness is important!", "If, If, If ???".... Never once thanking this old and worn out sweater that has been in my family for the last 2 generations. My dad had used it when he was a young stud and now I had taken on the mantel of being a dumb ass and ending up staying in the winter at a place that really doesn't matter but the weather really makes you wonder sometimes.....48 deg in summer and now 5 deg in winter....showing no signs of getting warmer but only getting colder, dropping a degree a day.....brrrr......

Dear baggy, dirty, old, hole ridden sweater,

thank you for the warmth you provide, for the wonderful sacrifice you make in keeping me warm, for the women repellent charm you have, for the tendency to attract that puny dog that keeps wanting to lick you. Where you once a bed for a gorgeous she - dog that has left its mark on you? ..Than.......kk God I have reached my room now...Yeah the heater really is a wonderful invention. Thank you Akash for buying it.

Its warm now and the baggy sweater finds itself aimlessly lying in the corner of my room with the heater - a suite...

Where did this day go?

2008-10-18T06:54:00.000-07:00

As I sit in an extremely uncomfortable position, listening t the sound of the crickets and other flea infested rodents scampering around in the lawns below my room, the sound of the evening train " The Amritsar-Delhi Shatabdi " to be a little bit more precise, awakes me from my wasted, dull, boring and a very unproductive day.
The reason for such a lack of activity save the, hardly recognizable movements of my fingers across the keyboard of my DELL laptop, is a very (but predictable) late night. The laptop also explains the uncomfortable position, as my mind was bent on the task of taking this device as it literally means and placing it where it ought to be i.e., on my lap.
Getting back to the unproductive day, as the days dawn towards the very unimaginative task of mugging up and puking out random words as fast as possible within a time frame of an hour, or as mere mortals call it "Examinations", in my case "Sessionals", I seem more content on taking it easy and allowing all those thoughts of fear and worry's that clouds the judgement of a lot young minds to hardly affect the way I go about my day. The day started with a good brush on those molars and pre -molars, at around 12:30 noon. That pretty much sums up the loss of the better part of any normal persons day, but for me it was a wake up call that I have missed out on a half day of opportunities. But does that wake up call last long enough in my senses? I guess not!
The reason being, well I happen to be an expert at finding excuses to procrastinate. The need for performing those three major morning activities arose or as I often call them the three S's (S#$t, Shave and a Shower). The completion of these activities requested the mother of all tasks, the food for the body.
After a nice and fulfilling but to make it very clear not a very tasty meal, I decide to retire to my room away from the glares of unknown and unseen eyes. Here i finally open that book that would decide if i do know or do not know the way the milling machines work. Personally speaking, I do not see myself in a life time working on a machine such as the miller or even a lathe for that matter, but here i still find myself tired, confused and frustrated at having to literally mug up 126 pages of unimaginative workings of the miller. Having seen the extent to which I would have to torture myself, my mind spent the better part of 2 hours trying to figure out a better way to approach the problem at hand. Suddenly realising it was well past mid-day and the sun would set in another 2 hours, I set about trying to figure out as to "where did I go off track?".

I'm still thinking of the number of wrong decisions this single day has been made to witness from my part, realising fully well the extent to my lack of considerations to the natural order of things, the very unimaginative order of things but the way of the world none the less. Still contemplating on another set of unimaginative thoughts, I find myself fading into the night with yet another wasted, dull, boring and unproductive day..

Damsels on court....a perfect weekend

2008-01-25T03:18:00.000-08:00

I'm not from Switzerland nor do I have any affiliations with the European Countries but I still have a great sense of belonging and unprecedented pride on knowing that the world like me recognises Roger has the undisputed king on court. Where does this sense of belonging come from?
These questions are frivolous to the fact that people often back the winning horse, irrespective to the fact that that horse may or may not be one of their own.Today I sit here wondering, after the shock defeat of my icon, whether or not I have backed the right horse. Such contemplations are just a way to muse myself as I continue to follow the remainder of the Australian Open without the hope of thumping my fist in the air and rejoicing in anothers delight. Watching two rivals of astonishing proportions lose out on yet another picture perfect Grand Finale will be a disappointment.
The respite in such a situation however is not lost as the fairer sex are easy on the eye, and what better way to spend the weekend than by watching those long legged damsels prance about and enthrall the minds of us mere mortals.