Yey!

Good news first, check this out: http://tarukapoor.com :D
My friend L, who has given me this amazing b'day gift, says someday this will save me a million dollars. :P Wow! Thankoooo!
Yep, today's my budday. Which means I'm 22 already. 22! Sounds so damn OLD, sucks!
I wanna be kiddo forever :D :D :D

Thanks Dork for the sweeeetest bday present ever, and thanks everyone else for giving me a b'day to remember, the last in IIT :)

Cheers to the new year, and anyone knows how to stop getting buddha, tell me! :D :D

Hello, unkill!

The other day, while looking for a certain mobile phone accessory that I've been looking for a while now, I checked out these two mobile stores in Saket. After being unsuccessful at the first one, where a middle-aged uncle wanted to sell me a cheap counterfeit that I really doubted would last or even work, I walked into the other one still narrating to my friend a randomly funny snippet of the conversation with that uncle, and just blurted without a pause to the guy at the counter "Uncle do you have...", still in that mocking mimicky tone.

Well, it just so happened the guy at the counter was a 25-26 something guy, barely a few yrs older than me (but he was balding), and he had the most shocked look on his face as he said a hasty no, I suspect, without caring what I had asked for. And on my part, I had realised what I had done as soon as I spoke those words, so I broke out into a giggle laughter right on his face, at the very moment when he was giving me his shaky no, and walked out immediately after even as my friend looked from me to him to me in a soundless surprised gaze :)

This is for that guy, sorry unkill. You don't look that old, despite the balding patch. :P :)

Amen!

Today was one of those days. It began poorly, albeit lazily with one of the worst cooked hostel mess breakfasts (which is, without exception, the best meal of the day). And then, there was Laptop trouble in store (again!) when I discovered the the wire of the Laptop charger has got cut at a point. Imagine an already super-bored jobless life, minus the laptop! :(

So, finally tired of being depressed and deciding to get it it fixed tomorrow, I abandoned my room to take a long walk, and threatened Dork into coming over. Together we ate and bird-watched in the market across the gate, and a little later, it happened. A life-changing idea, that sounded outrageously crazy at first, like many others, but quickly built into something credible and substantial. Something I know I will write, something that has potential to break all kinds of crazy records. I'm thrilled! And we treated ourselves at Nirulas' for that already, too. :D

I'm not going to give away any more here, but all of you, bite your nails in suspense, and pray I go through with it, because if I do, I know it's gonna be good, and if nothing, serious fun, for YOU too. :D :D :D

Amen!

Next is what?

Here, I changed the blog template. I liked the picture at the top more than anything else, and wanted a change anyway. So I changed it, and unless a LOT of people crib about it, and unless someone finds me a better one, I'll stick to it, for it's too much work, albeit such is the state of joblessness and boredom in my life right now (and expected to stay for some time) that work most of the time is a good proposition. However, not this, let this be tweaked a little if needed, but let this survive!!!

So, next is what? I came back to an almost empty hostel today evening. Had a little work, but mostly home and college are equally boring now, and equally lonely. What a contrast this is since those early years here when I hated staying at home, and so much exciting was always happening to life here. Now it's a terribly purposeless, friendless existence, where each day is no different than the rest, and the only difference between my room at home and at hostel is the availability and quality of food, and the answerability and freedom of killing my time. Worst part is, things don't look as if they could change for the rest of my tenure here, that is, till I actually start working. And even then, there's this question, where do I stay? Assuming I get the Gurgaon office, the choice between living at home (which is 35 long tedious kms away from office) and living on my own somewhere in Gurgaon isn't as easy as it seems.
For as much as I hate the commuting and the restrictive atmosphere at home, I don't really have a life anymore, can't imagine anyone I could possibly live with (people don't even like talking to me any more mostly, I'm that boring) and it's a lot of hassle of it's own.
Still postponing that particular question at the moment, fathoming what to do next is an immediate awful question. Reminds me of a certain book titled "How Opal Mehta got kissed, got wild and got a life". Pacy, fun, page-turner of a one-hour read. Wish my life was that happening.

For now I find solace in watching the beautiful foggy night, quietly celebrating Dravid's century (finally! yeyyyyy!!) :)

An intricate world

Lying at home these wintry days switching channels with the remote, I cannot help but wonder the amazingly intricate system that we live in, curse and live in still, and how because of it and despite it, we keep surviving. :-) Everyday the newspapers are full of people contradicting themselves many times over, from the Pakistani establishment to our own Home Minister and dear Leader of Opposition. And last night, as I was just wondering aloud to my mother, if both sides accepted LOC as as international border, called it the end of the Kasmir dispute, and with that the bulk of all things malign between India and hamara padosi desh, when my mom was like, imagine the number of people who'd suddenly be unemployed, the amount of money defence would no longer legally need, and the absolute disappearance of purpose it would mean for so many in Pakistan. And I am still stuck in that reflection. For a nation founded on the vision of hatred against Hindus, on an "us" vs "them", wouldn't the snatching away of a cause in focus cause them to disintegrate, especially when they look at the mess their rulers have put them in, for even in the worst case, Muslims this side of the border are on a whole better off. Whats the fault of common, innocent people, forever victims?!

And while on victims, as condolences, praise, sympathy and all sorts of emotions vent all across India and the world for the victims of Mumbai, and politicians and mediamen alike scamper to justify themselves and find a blamegoat, find something to hide against, the drama of Indian democracy goes on. It all makes for funny television, and sad reality. Sachin Tendulkar's stoic match-winning century and Viru'd blaze was more pleasant television, but then again, only an illusory joy. What an intricate world!

A world for me alone

The night falls again
again my heart flutters
again the lip trembles
not a word it utters.

My insides are flooded with an unnamed emotion. A part of me craves for acknowledgment, begs me to allow it to breathe and exist, pleads me to save it from the darkness it's banished to. There are no takers for its humble servings. There is no place for vulnerable innocence in this world. It belongs to a different world. A world for me alone.

The tear is sweet
the heart stole all the salt
and gave it to its wounds
lest the pain should halt

To the weightlessness of a free fall

In that moment, numbness broke like the wall of an aging dam in monsoon, plenty of frozen aches vaporized and the heart melted with the warmth and started flowing through the eyes.
In that moment, the things that really mattered stood out and everything else faded, like they always do eventually.
In that moment, memory chose to selectively forget and attentively remember and cherish.
In that moment, words failed themselves and eyes emanated hatred for petty emotions of pain and jealousy, guilt for greed, gratitude for the good, love for the worthy.
In that moment, life felt well-lived. If only for a fraction of a second.

Some moments once in a while, make one feel so much at the same time, lift so much weight up and drown with so much more, and so much of the ground shifts beneath the feet that even as you scramble for something to hold on to, you also look forward to the free fall, to the weightlessness.

Love you, yes I do.

Job Hunting-III

In the end all it meant for me was 8 back to back interviews, three offers and two decisions. And I was goddamn lucky, for sure. 20 placements on Day1 is crazy.

There would be several things to say about today, but for now, the only thing I can feel is relief. And feverish hope for others to get a job too.

BCG. Mark the name. Likely to become a regular at the blog.

Job-hunting-II

General Observational Expertise Pvt Ltd has temporarily outsourced its primary services to Random Funde Inc, thanks to cost-cutting necessitated by recession.
Latest report attempts to give random recruitment season gyaan and details the businesses that seem to have done considerably well in 2008. Let's have a look at the top 5:

• Law Firms: Bankruptcies, mergers, takeovers, mass pink-slips, law suites, increased stress/hate/passion crimes, cost-cutting, contract breaches and what not. Everything is in a turmoil, and the legal department is busy!
  
• Mental Health Industry: At number 4 , the people selling advice, solace and anti-depressant drugs have had a good year. Everything from rising prices to disappearing jobs to sinking stocks to rising crime and terror is driving the blood pressure up, happiness low and stress to the sky. As relationships rock, as MBAs kidnap for money, as people ask for divorce because of stock market losses, as someone loses a lifetime of saving...somebody is still making money! Sad :(
  
• News Channels and agencies: More masala than ever. A new crash, a new headline. Another bomb blast, another breaking news. More the recession, more the number of people needed to cover it. The less said the better here, for everyone knows how bad news makes better "copy" anyway!
• Politics: The runners-up, and an eternal bull of the market. The US elections and its coverage seem to have dragged on and on forever till more people across the world heard of Barack Obama than the heads of state of their own country. The world voted for a Black American president, almost. And now, India has its own political season red hot with elections in states on, and general not too far away. The pitch has been rising all year, with each party crying themselves hoarse. Madam Maya wants a bigger pie, Congress is afraid of doing too much lest something backfires to combine with anti-incumbency, and Mr Advani knows it is his last shot at the top job. It's business out there, folks, and rising prices and falling jobs, is actually good for business!
• Terror: A winner by a fair margin! Bombs have put up a consistent show all over India this year. They invented a new brand of Hindu terror to compete with the mature Islamic terror so that the brand war killed peace and logic and helped the market grow further. Special Saturdays were introduced and unprecedented production levels achieved so even 26 defused bombs in one city in a day did not mar the show. People dying was a regular efficient event capturing new markets including North-east. And now they have pulled off the mother of them all, attaching the heart and soul of India, openly firing at innocent people and forever tarnishing a city, a people and a hope. Way to go!
  

:( :( :(

Deal-breakers!

• Mayawati at Delhi rally: "We'll bring Delhi on par with UP!" !!!!!!!!!!!!! Is anyone insane enough to still vote for Madam Maya? I shudder.
• At my sister's wedding last night...Madam left, madam right, look straight, smile, hand up/down, walk slow, stand here, eat this...Be the plastic doll for 800 people enjoying the entertainment at your expense while you struggle sleep anxiety and 25 kgs on your body that took 4 hours to put on. Hello!!! I'm never getting married! At least never ever the Full Jazz way. Sheer torture!
• One painful course, a semester full of twice as much work as any other of the same weightage, a supposed emphasis on learning and sincerity, and a memory tester final exam repeated from last year that half the class just knew? Respect for the academic system, huh.
  
• 2 hours to find the dress, 20 mins to get ready(5 times normal), and the SO says: "You're not looking nice"
  

Job-hunting-I

This is the season of knocking at the door of the Job Market (mostly gloomy,empty this year :( ). With one and a half foot still firmly back in innocent and fun (slightly evil and boring this year) College-World, and half a hand still clutching at the all important and coveted Degree that will stay elusive for at least (and hopefully no more) half a year more, we beg with half a hand (with a CV in the other hand, obviously) and down on one knee (and a half too, if you wish) to get a job. Yeah, that would be ten days from now.

So this is what is the graduating class of '09, IITD, can be found doing these days:

• Curse your luck for graduating in a recession
• Wonder why your GPA isn't better
• Curse the toppers for existing with better CVs than yours
• Wonder what the professor taught in your fundamentals class in Second year about your engineering discipline and how you reached final year without knowing that
  
• Curse Training and Placement cell for posting yet another "Company XXX will not be visiting this year" notice
• Wonder why do I want to join this company
• Curse inflation for the heavy bill of your Interview-Day gear: Blazer, shirts, shoes, folder, accessories, perfume, bathing soap...
• Wonder why people who tell me to be honest in interviews frown at me when I tell them my biggest weaknesses are chocolate, sleeping, dislike for bathing and sheer inability to work without a deadline hanging over at my head
  
• Curse companies with GPA cutoffs
• Wonder how the hell to tell someone "about yourself"
• Curse companies that did not shortlist you, every single time after that initial cray buzz goes in the campus whenever one is out
  
• Wonder just what is my greatest strength
  
• Curse your department, your profs, your project guide
  
• Wonder why do we need to know how to estimates the number of tissue papers thrown in dustbins every year and the number of lamp-posts in Stockholm
• Curse seniors who did not tell you in first year that you still needed to slog out after clearing JEE and getting into IIT
• Wonder how to put together that brilliant crisp, polite, true answer for every question that gets you a tick on Creativity, Leadership, Team-work, Communication, Analytical abilities, Relationship building, Fun-loving, Impact, Substance.............
  
• Curse all the TV series, movies and LAN gaming you did
• Wonder just how did that senior of mine manage that job last year
• Curse everytime a company has a huge 8 page form to be filled up in addition to the CV that says When did you put Mind over Matter and One weakness that you have overcome and how
  
• Wonder how did that person get that shortlist this year
  
• Curse yourself for not giving CAT seriously
  
• Wonder if going for a PhD is an option
  
• Curse
• Wonder
  
• ...
• ...

Sach ya jhoot

Benaqab na karo yoon har labz ko mere

Main darti hoon kahin sach jhalak na jaye

Na kuredo mere sookhe hue zakhmon ko koi

Kahin patthar se paani chhalak na jaye

 

Sau-sau tukde kar ke har sach ke

Har jhooth mein ek tukda chhupaya hai

Na roshni itni dalo ki jhooth badal le rang apna

Ye tukde duniya ki nazar mein khatak na jaye

This and that

Life is in a funny phase. (Even though it's not so obviously funny, I'm so sure it will be in hindsight a few months from now, I might as well put the adjective already!) So, as I was saying, life is in this phase, which sorta resembles funny, vaguely. It's incredibly lazy for one, and the laziness is incredibly comfortable two, and three, even when things happen, it mostly doesn't feel "real". (Oh! Did that happen or was it a part of my 12 hour long dream?) So all in all, confusions not withstanding, and painful emotional trials kinda-withstanding, "good" sounds like a good word.

So, why should I blog about this? Isn't it like boring? Sure as hell, which is what I will use an excuse to whoever hasn't already slept off reading this, as to why I don't blog often these days. (I do read my regular basket ful, though) Or why do I write "short sweet quickies" more often than not, as a friend calls them. (I can't understand his objection though, short is easy on the eye, sweet is good for non-diabetics, and who minds a quickie anyway?!) Anyhow, the update is that placements start December 1, and so in kinda 2.5 weeks from now, I can start practising shots at jobs like darts in the dark. Or in semi-darkness. Going as the only 4 shortlists I have in hand thus far are on Dec 1, and doing some complicated maths ( probability! IITD ->best engg school, awesome analytical skills blah blah blah) there is a 50% probabiltiy (Approx) that I can get a job that day and become a elitist, self-obsessed and suspiciously retarded consultant like L, Doc, Sparki, Laura and so so so many others around me. (and they thought advice was for free...hmph!) Good thing? No! It means I must break my slumber daily (peacefully established by 5th-yr extra dose of inertia + lack of interest in classes + lack of real work) to go and practice "thinking and talking(more or less, hopefully both coordinated)" with other hapless souls.

And while on L, since he drove me out of his room (ha! his room...more like a store of unopened suitcases and cartons (since months) and empty shelves where he somehow managed to sleep) which I was trying to convince him to clean so it looked like someone lived there (even if it was L! (I partically succeeded, for the record)). On top of it, he asked me not to come to his (actually, theirs...Doc Psycho and (Respectably L's) Shakti live there too) home because I drive him out of his laziness (and threaten to confiscate his phone) DESPITE the fact that I cooked him (all of them, for the record) Aloo Paranthas for dinner less than an hour ago! On top of even that, he called me tez, Fast, Shrewd and Manipulative! To cut a long story short, if I die before the next time I visit their place, you know who cursed! :D

Blabber apart, India beat Oz 2-0 not too long ago and I wanted to write a few things, but I'd let you imagine yourself. Insert something senti for Kumble, bravely appreciative for Ganguly, defence for Rahul Dravid, deference for Sachin, indifference to Dhoni's luck, one pat for Watson, one unkind remark for Ponting and an afterthought of a sigh for VVS and some others. You get the picture, right?

And oh, wish me luck. Exams presentations jobs and all the usual... :)
Take care (if you're still reading (just in case (yes, I love brackets today)))

The web in the head

...and the infinite questions crawling around

Normal, right?

Fallback ;)

A moment of agony, then a sigh of relief
A whiff of doubt, then a breeze of belief
A seizure of fright, then a touch that calms
A sniff of plight, and then I run to your arms! :)

Being a kid is goooood.You're allowed to need love.

The hour before dusk

There is something magical, as well, about that familiar hour before dusk. A different kind of a magic than dawn, subtler and often unnoticed. A magic that's lost too often in the fatigue of late afternoons, in the deceptive tubelight of a closed room, in the anticipation of the evening or in the hurry of wrapping up the day. Remember that William Davies poem titled "Leisure" that everyone probably read sometime in school?
What is this life if full of care
We have no time to stand and stare

Those lines come back to mind sometimes, and sometimes give birth to beautiful moments on a relatively hustle-free afternoon like today. So, I was in CP for lunch with an old friend who's in India for a few days. Final year of college, despite a few specific stresses, comes with a luxury of being able to take an afternoon off for whatever you want, for practically doing nothing practically whenever you want. So I called it an early weekend in the afternoon, and went to CP, met my friend, chatted and ate and finally said goodbye and started to walk back. What started as a walk around the inner circle slowly changed into a brisk one around half the outer circle, and a leisurely one along Janpath. It felt so good, that I did not feel like stopping or hailing a bus or auto just yet.

And so I walked, keenly watching everyone around. People shopping, people talking, people in a hurry, tired people, angry people, a stray smile, a beautiful admiring gaze, people nodding their heads to the music in their car, cyclists guiding themselves through a swarming crowd of pedestrians, mobile phone ringtones, the melody of noisy BlueLine bus conductors' bangs, the napping security guard, the child holding her mother's suit walking behind her so as to not get lost, yet lost already in a world far, far away, the wailing hungry child, the tense conversation on the phone, the rush to run, the slow walk of old age, the 2 ruppee peanuts, the sleepy shopkeepers. I watched em all, and I walked. At one point, I wanted to take pictures, but then, not everything should be constricted to a 2-dimensional image. The memory, albeit decaying with time, serves well alongwith my imagination that can do a new job every time I come back to these posts and read these words. :)

The weather is brilliant these days, the slight chill warming up a smile to every heart. That walk felt so fulfilling, with random thoughts straying in and out of mind, and leaving behind peace. The thrill of stopping to buy a raw guava and enjoy it slowly, the thrill to watch the world go by even as time stops mattering. There was no hurry to reach anywhere, no work urgently awaiting me, and lots of talking I needed to do with myself, so even after walking a few kms I just sat down at a bus stop watching the sun and the trees, not looking at the buses stopping by, until finally the silence was satisfactory and it was time to come back.

At some level there was nothing spectacular about the hour, or what I did. The day continued to be good with some other friends turning up even after I was back. But at yet another, that hour was sublime. Not with an envelope of darkness dissolving the dirt, but with a radiance of life making it feel good anyway. Healing not with the antidote, but with the smile. Beautiful.

A magic, sadly, lost way too often.

Mr. Money

I am Magic.
I can't buy happiness, but happiness can't buy me either.
I can't buy you friends, but I can buy you better enemies.
I can disappear in trillions from economies, and yet have exactly the same number of bills floating around.
Everyone wants me, yet I can never satisfy a lover. :(
I am never enough!
But the truth is, my friend, I am always more than what you think you need.

Not too little, not too much, not just right either

It is relatively easy to ward off extremes when you need to. In any case it is relatively simpler to decidedly label them dangerous and unbalanced, to choose with certainty whether to adapt to the extreme style, or the stay-away-from-extreme style. 0's and 1's are fun too, sometimes. Somethings in life can work in that binary mode, sometimes for the good too, but all other times, when you've decided to stray away from the end-points or are forced in the grey anyway by an induced sense of judgment, an apparent need for balance or by the simple unacceptability of one and unattainability of the other. Whatever be the reason, more often than not, the rule is to avoid the extremes. But that is the simple part, or implicit then is the need to find the balance, the optimum on the infinite points between 0 and 1. As one can put it, the need to find the right shade of grey.

This threatens to develop into a familiar philosophical question of right and wrong, morality and subjectivity, so let me steer the conversation to this one bottom-line: That if it's not too much, and not too little, it doesn't yet mean it's enough. Obvious, you'd say. False bottom too, that one, for it drills down that long deep hole, where you do not know which way to steer to get to the "right" place. Where do you go?

Khair, I know there are no easy answers, and I'm not looking for any either. I just know I'm in that place in the middle where balance is elusive and extremes remain frightening. I like the idea of not doing anything at all a bit too much these days, and holidays have firmly established the "inertia of rest", which I'm hoping to finally snap out of tomorrow. But not today.
This despite the fact that plenty interesting has happened of late. Lots of nice people have just turned up from somewhere or the other. Doc has returned from US. I met sweetheart Arpz (love you!) and also Ted (after long) not too long ago. Yashshri is in Delhi. Shantanu is getting married in three weeks and he even invited me, though I can't go because my cousin is getting married the same weekend. Other than all this, the placement madness, albeit at top gear, is not as maddening as I'd feared it would be. I even have shortlists in the two companies top of my list. And studies are okay too, despite my missing almost all classes these days. Just have to submit the paper soon and my project would be calm. And I'm just back from a decent break at home, with lots of sleep. So, bottomline of the rant is that most things are fine, good, yet something doesn't feel okay.

Which is why I snap sometimes, albeit temporarily. Gripped by fear or numbness, silence or hysteria. Short-lived, but intense. Do not know what it is. Two nights ago, it was panic though I was perfectly silent and calm outwardly, because dad wasn't feeling well and had a bad case of indigestion late in the night. Four nights ago, it was numbness, when I did not understand how to feel, how to act, how to think. Last week, it was pain, silent again, but entirely unreasonable. And sometime ago, it was irrational hysteria, draining away all my confidence. You get the picture, right? So I just stay silent now. It's the only thing that comforts, and also, hides the Fear. The lack of reason in my life is apalling. I've been called emotional, hysterical, over-dramatic, impractical for the nth time of late. And it's all true.

I am downright stupid. Sue me.

The hour before dawn

There's something magical about the hour before dawn. The night is cool and dark. The breeze resounds the inevitability of the passage of the time. Silence is no longer noisy as it was a few hours ago. It is the hour of clarity, of listening to oneself, in clear whispers. Even silence listens quietly and intently to its voice. The tears have dried up, the hysteria died down, and the fatigue eased out. The aura of truth and depth is all-pervasive, even seeping into the dreams of those who sleep, for sleep is the deepest at this hour. This aura, this truth is utterly fragile, for soon the darkness will be drowned in a bright chaos, and the silence swallowed by a fresh bag of highs and woes. Soon, it will be tomorrow. But for me, the beauty that lies in the passing of today is unmatched, for life, after all, is best understood only in its passing, backwards.

I do not know where I want to be tonight. Here, where I am is good enough, because I already am here. Less alone than I thought I was. Less vulnerable than I could handle and more comfortable with the darkness than I ever am. It is so still it manages to put all turbulence to rest, allowing me to sift pain from faith, cracks from trust. It cleanses, and promises to disappear with the dirt as it metamorphoses into dawn. This hour signifies hope to many. To me, it is a source of strength and conviction, that turns up with just what I need, from within me. That liberation envelops me into a comfortable sleep, so I can allow dawn to sing me a fresh lullaby. The only wish that remains is of a little rain, so I would not wake up with salt left on the cheek. But that's too much to ask. The hour helps me forgive. The days will help me forget. And the nights will keep the guilt as the keepsake.

As I walk chasing shadows and as I lie on my bed chasing moments in my head, I run into myself. As the moon disappears, a smile reappears.

This hour is sheer magic; it cures.

Pure is deep

The more intense an emotion, the more personal it is.

Some nights...

...I wish I could just disappear.
Cleanly, soundlessly, as if I never ever existed.

Unhappiness

There are few people, a certain kind - a small minority, hopefully - that are just plain unhappy people. As opposed to another at the opposite end of the spectrum, the people who are always happy, find something to cheer, and smile to sleep more often than not. The unhappy people, on the other hand, are doomed to forever search for the dark cloud above the silver lining, doomed to find something to cry to sleep about every night. They are suckers for grief, so much that even others' grief easily flows through and resonates in them. They are good shoulders to cry on, because they're always looking for shoulders.

Nothing is ever enough, ever all right. Happiness by definition is transient for them, a treasured impulse which possibly can't last more than a few nanoseconds, an impulse they are doomed to run after and try too hard to keep. They survive on being bitter, on self-pity, on guilt. The drama is good. They think. They feel. They suspect. They whine. And they repel happiness, the same thing they run after, because they do not understand its true nature.

They're dangerous, because they contaminate every aura they intercept. They just carry the negative energy around, until the day they have dissolved themselves in their own worthless tears, until the day their personal seething fires have burnt them.
They're attractive, like Danger itself.
Thank God not all people are like them. But what is saddest is, they're who they are, to a large extent because of their own choice. Such a waste.

Being PM

I was just reminded of the times when we were young and had to write those essays on "If I were the Prime Minister of India", or something to that effect. I don't know if they still have those kind of homework exercises, but if they did, this would be one of the apt answers:

If I were the Prime Minister of India right now, I'd be really confused and flipping a coin to decide what I should concentrate on.
Whether the alarming terror situation in the country with recent flurry of blasts in the cities, or the alarming external security situation, with Pakistan and Nepal growing more volatile by the day.
Or, the global economic meltdown and focus on minimizing its loss to India, its stock market, its industry and its banks.
Or, controlling the surging inflation in the country.
Or, about the grave floods in Bihar affecting over a 2.5 million people.
Or in Gujarat and Orissa.
Or, the farmers in Vidarbha.
Or, the drought-like situation in many states where water-sharing is an issue.
Or, work for restoring peace and harmony in Jammu and Kashmir. Heal a wounded part of the country.
Or, control insurgency and bring back peace in the North-east.
Or, focus on the rising crime rate in metropolitan cities.
Or, act against the heinous communal acts and forced conversions and reconversions in Orissa. Bring back peace between the Hindu and Christian communities.
Or, work to preserve the GDP growth rate which looks like slipping below 7%
Or, work to establish a fundamentally strong economy.
Or, work to promote education at the grass-roots of the society by ensuring free primary education, a bill that hasnt been cleared in four yrs because the States dont want to foot the cost.
Or, build more higher education institutes and medical colleges(IITs??)
Or, bring nuclear power to India and setup the reqd infrastructure so India can meet its energy needs.
Or....
.....
.....
.....
....

Dream job, anyone????

This isn't a critique on anyone's performance, just a sentiment that comes through grabbing the headlines every morning.
India, such a marvellous country!

Jaago Re!

Here's an issue really close to my heart, something I've repeatedly talked about in previous posts on this blog. We need to vote. All of us. Every single person eligible, must vote. It's much more our national duty than a national right. If we do not vote, we have no right to celebrate or curse our democracy, no right to complain about the "system" and no right to wish things would change for the better. Every single vote counts, and in this respect, the Jaago Re! One Billion votes initiative is something I think each and every one of us must support.
And act on.

India needs ten minutes of your time. Spend five minutes today, register, and help spread the word. And five on the day of the election. Make a responsible choice. Trust me, every drop makes a difference. Do you have ten minutes for your country?

Let's stop making excuses. It is not cumbersome (check the website to bust some common myths about registration and voting) and it is not futile. Please.

This happened one day...

One beautiful day, while he was waiting at the crossing...
His eyes stopped at her.
She was looking at him too.
Their eyes met briefly.
He tried to remove his gaze, to look elsewhere.
Still he felt her eyes upon him, fixed and staring.
He wanted to look again, but was afraid of finding her staring back.
It was time to move, he began ahead.
She turned behind him.
He moved forward.
She followed.
He moved forward.
She still followed.
He knew she was following, and tried to move faster.
She kept up.
He tried to escape, but she was still behind him.
He moved, she followed.
And this went on and on.
Until finally, he was forced to stop.

And give her a one-rupee coin.

Change-VIII

Caught in a cyclone, we wonder
where the turbulence was born
and where it will die?
Swept by the waves, we dream
of the centre to where we're sucked
where we'd fall and lie.
We look around, for a hand
that we'd waited for all this while
to hold and pull us back.
Solace comes, too little too late
and mostly from the unloved straw
washed down off the track.
Among jitters, as the earth rocks,
the ground slips by the force and hunger
of gushing swallowing water.
We wait with Faith, for You
while with the knife of time,
Change, continues to slaughter.

Waqt rehta nahi kahin tik kar
Iski aadat bhi aadmi si hai....

Reality Bites: Zara Nach Ke Dikha

In this age of reality television, with so many shows on air it appears almost unrealistic that they still survive;from "Big Boss" to "Bathroom singer", each one faces immense competition to be more entertaining, more fun, more dramatic and more hatke than the rest of the crowd, giving rise to hypes, controversies, drama and what not, along with a quantum loss in sensitivity and sensibility. One among many in the dancing segment was StarOne's Zara Nach Ke Dikha! that had its Grand Finale last night. The concept of the show was an age old battle of the sexes with a TV star studded team of seven and a half boys versus seven and a half girls, judged by Malaika Arora and Chunky Pandey (remember him?). I saw two or three episodes in the preceding weeks, and they were just fine, with a few good dance performances. To its credit the show was mostly entertaining, always a passe, and the unique point betting system kinda made it fun. That essentially meant that every team put a certain number of points from its kitty as a bet before each round and whoever won the round as per the judges got that many points while the loser lost that many from their tally. With that in place, an additional judge (Saroj Khan) and the Girls and Boys teams nicely pitted at a mere one cumulative point difference, the Grand Finale yesterday seemed interesting enough to watch, and for the next four hours featured decent performances by the participants as well as guest performances by the host and Malaika herself.

The drama element was always high, without doubt. In the first round, the boys bet 300 points of their 870 odd and lost in a close but fair judgement, at least IMO., and in the second again they bet 161 and lost in what was truly a spectacular performance of shadow dance by the girls team. The girls chose to play safe all along, betting (and winning too) smaller totals. The third was a couples round in which the boys clearly had an upper edge over the girls and managed to win back 300 points again, while the girls lost 75. But it was the fourth that was the clincher. It was a Face-off round with a medley performed by one dancer from each team one after the other and mostly simultaneously, and was one of the best dance performances of the show, by both teams. It is hard to choose who was better than the other, and to be honest I enjoyed Bakhtiyar's energy as much as the intricacy and variety of Ashita Singh's steps, but as it turned out, the judges chose to award it to the Girls. They claimed it was close and they probably examined the technicalities better than we did, but it was at least hard to say that one of them had done a bad job. However, the Boys team felt the decision wasn't fair and chose to walkout in frustration, although they were back in some time. That was where things turned ugly. Probably the quality of judgement wasn't upto the mark, and since when is Chunky Pandey (drooling on women) a judge anyway. I did not see all of the series, but I gather that girls won more frequently than guys and there were couple of brilliant people on both sides. Still, even if the boys thought they were short-changed, what they did next in the final round was a complete shocker. As it turned out later, they had lost 250 points in their penultimate round and hence had no chance of winning after that, so they claimed they had lost all motivation because of flawed judging standards and came out lip-syncing on the stage their final performance instead of dancing. What followed was judges expressing outrage, Chunky Pandey wanting a sex change operation and the Girls winning, among other things. Other details here.

Now the point is, I understand if the boys feel unhappy and frustrated, but what they did was in really bad taste. Their gestures, the way each of them bowed in front of the girls teams' desk during that final performance and the manner in which they behaved on national television was plain humiliating and immature. It was unfair on the girls team who put up the hardwork to put a decent show in their turn in that round, and just totally against sportsmanship. There ought to be a more decent way of complaining, or protesting ,but this looked too much like a spoilt kid's act who cannot handle failure. Or maybe just another case of bruised male ego. To express angst against the judges because they thought they should have won when they didn't is one thing, but they went to the extent of disrespecting the opposition by their behavior which was entirely uncalled for. They were the ones who decided to bet so high, and once their risks backfired, they were always going to be on the backfoot. To their bad luck, the girls did a more than decent job consistently, but even if they had lost I do not think that Delnaaz and her girls would have chosen to act so immature and frivolous on TV, rather than just being graceful losers.

Albeit in our times, nothing is increasingly shocking, (even bomb blasts are fast losing newsworthiness) sometimes the new lows of Indian television and celebrity behavior in public manage to shock nevertheless. Full credit.

Explaining Subprime crisis...

How did it happen? How did the Wall Street crumble?

As the world gasps at USA doing a USSR, and wonders what next, check link out for the best explanation ever!

This is how subprime works

Thanks Rohan.

Not to trip on this trip

It is a tricky one, this desire to be vulnerable. Sometimes. Somewhere. In front of someone. At least. The desire to fall -- knowing that it is okay, after all, just this once, just here and now, to fall. It's easy to understand the potent attraction of success, but this attraction of failure is none short of lethal. It's logical to want to know, but there is some rationale behind wanting to be told that is probably beyond the understanding of rationality. I don't know.

What I know is that staying at the top is a persistently painful, tiring and numbing process. So you fall in the trap of bleeding just to know you're alive. You might, that is. Perhaps it is the overwhelming stability that confidence demands. Perhaps mere insecurity. Or else a glitch in The Matrix, which makes you come to a random moment, when you forget your painstaking efforts of building the shell within which you hide and all the rationale that goes into creating your smiling, powerful, confident, resilient wall every single other moment, and give it all up. For that random moment. It's baffling, this desire to be unabashedly naked. And knowing you could survive, you could be saved.

But it may not happen that way, not always. One could have chosen the wrong moment, the wrong person, the wrong purpose. And as it backfires and you lose your poise and your purpose forever, you sit and wonder, if being vulnerable is a sign of being human, why is being human a quality banned on Show-and-Tell?

Run. Hide. Save. Yourself.

Thank you

Thinking about you

through a collage of blissful moments

stumbling over those that make me fall...
over and over again, in love with you

and floating in those that swept me off my feet
with your inundating love.

You're beautiful, and so is life with you. :)

In the air tonight....

• Beauty. Beautiful, serene, wet water, and a slight chill in the air. I love rains!
• Fear. When will the global economic crisis end? How bad is the job market hit? Will India stop growing? Will inflation ever come down? Will we get a job this year? Will the climate change kill us before we do anything?
• Laziness. The weather makes you relax. Work looks doable, and hence, postponable. Sleep is good. Coffee is tasty. A laugh is worth it.
  
• Frustration. Why is Delhi traffic so bad in the rains? Why can't someone maintain the roads?
• Love. Season of being bowled over. Season of love. Of fifth yearites hitting the new couples list. Of old couples falling crazily all over each other again. Of sweet nothings. Of cuddles and kisses. Of looking at your life, smiling and saying touchwood.
  
• Panic. CVs? Job prep? MTP?
  
• Rendezvous 2008. Begins tomorrow.
  

What's terrorism without terror?

"So, the terrorists struck again? Which city today? Ah, Delhi. Okay."

Sounds like a familiar fragment of conversation. Too familiar an event?? Tell me, if terror attacks are this routine, do they even manage to terrorise? It's just become an everyday event for the fatigues indifferent people of India, just as used to the recurrent news of Blueline accidents, BMW runovers, horrifying rapes and devastating famines. They happen everyday. We are sorry they happen. And then we move on.

But nobody wastes colossal amounts of funds, risks lives, months of meticulous planning and training on planning a famine and a road accident. Terrorists, by God, are in a profession noone increasingly cares about. No governments fall, no wars happen, nobody almost even makes a point and intelligence gets a few curses and a lot more work to do. Cynics guess that terrorists do it either to show to the powers-that-be who fund them where the money is going much like MCD occassionally builds a road or two to show where the budget disappeared, strictly audit purposes. Or else, it is just some kinda corporate competition between various terrorist groups that they fight over board room meetings and power point presentations that highlight their achievements of the year.

It's almost algorithmic these days how these attacks happen. Multiple blasts in a short duration of time, few people die, city goes on high alert for 24 hours, and people get on with life as police tries and finds someone responsible. News channels have a field day and govts. condemn attacks and distribute compensation. The only people who are directly affected and wounded are the dead and the injured, and their families. Their lives change forever for the worse, but sadly enough, in a country of 1.1 billion, the number is too few for anyone to remember for long, and for the society to bleed as a whole. More people have probably died in the Bihar floods than in a decade of terrorism across the country, and the collective apathy of this society has failed to move us even then. For our generation that has virtually grown up on news headlines of bomb blasts, train sabotage, hijacks and kidnappings, terrorism has, fortunately or unfortunately, become a part of our lives we are used to living with. And if this is the case with people like me, it's not hard to imagine how someone my age in Kashmir feels about it.

Saturday evening when the blasts struck Delhi, I was out with few of my very close friends. We had booked tickets for a 735 movie at PVR Priya less than an hour ago when at 645 we heard that there were bombings across Delhi. At that time we'd returned from a late lunch and were safely in IIT campus, but ten minutes later after a brief discussion we decided to go to the movie anyway. Somehow, the blasts didn't scare me at all. The people I cared about were all safe, and somehow it wasn't worth cancelling the plan and wasting 800 bucks for the 'risk'. We were safe inside the movie halll anyway, we reasoned. So four of us went anyway, and Priya was yet unruffled when we reached at 720. Not surprisingly a lotof peoplendid not turun up for the show, and when we got out at 945 after the movie, everything was shut down and deserted, which meant we hunted quite a bit around the city to find a place for dinner. And then we caught on the news to know how many bombs and how many dead. That's it.

Joke of the day was how Indian Mujahideen isn't even a scary enough name. And why call themselves Indian when they hate India? Organized crime has poor aesthetics, and purpose. Our police and intelligence may not be competent enough, our govt. not sensible enough to setup a federal Counter terrorist agency or something, but I have a feeling terrorism will still die out in India eventually, because our people do not care any more.

Cheers to the spirit of India!

Color

Randomly browsing through the archives, I stumbled on this post, when the picture in the post signified a snapshot of a certain point in my life. And then, al of a sudden in front of my eyes, the pic faded at some spots and brightened at others. Suddenly, there was new-found emptiness, while something had started filling the gaps there were before. As the picture metamorphosed before my eyes, I wondered, if the life that it contained metamorphosed too. And what about the me trapped between the uncolored pixels of that image? Has that changed? How?

Not an easy question to answer, I know, but I don't think an answer is what I'm looking for. If anything, if you could tell me, it would be nice to know if the pixels today have less or more color than they did.
But then again, what would I do with that information?
Smile, at best.
I can do that anyway. That would instantaneouly increase a little color in my life, hai na. :)

Chrome vs Firefox, what's the verdict?

The thing with Google, and Apple, in today's times is the instant launch they get with just their name, whichof course comes with the reliability that they'd back it up with an above average product at least and define a new set of stats for the market.(Although sometimes I wish they were a little faster...Googletalk Desktop version needs updated features since forever, and so on). And so it's unsurprising the kind of rage Chrome is these days. Whether it'll survive, only time will tell. For now, it's simple look, easier search in the address bar and visited website tab are finding favor, and reports claim it's faster and is fighting Microsoft's IE8 head-on, the comparison with the more established and bigger favorite Firefox is still iffy. Although my Firefox 3 crashes more often than it should (retrievably) and takes up more memory than Chrome, I think I'm sticking to Firefox for better functionality and stability. Neatness is one thing, but first love is first love. There're bound to be improvements in the future anyway, so the battle is on. What's your choice?

UPDATE: Just got to know, Google apparently has a clause in T&C for Chrome that says Whatever you compose on Chrome...right from emails to blogs, is google's property. Google says it will fix it in the next edition. Gawwwd. No Chrome for me!!! Here:
""By submitting, posting or displaying the content you give Google a perpetual, irrevocable, worldwide, royalty-free, and non-exclusive license to reproduce, adapt, modify, translate, publish, publicly perform, publicly display and distribute any Content which you submit, post or display on or through, the Services."

Reality

Sometimes all it needs
is for you to step aside
and watch life go by
without intrusion, or noise.
It's easy, except, the silence
often comes to stay
Reality is about prodding on
once the euphoria goes away.
It's hard to admire reality
the way we adore illusion
But in the face of a million imagined sorrows
Reality is a mere delusion

Emotions or emoticons?

Scuttling back and forth, filling up stacks
of sentences, the written word
Underlined with emotions
that gleam in the sight
and yet fail to breathe
loitering around as the emoticons
sometimes excessive, mostly inflated
sometimes ignored, always inadequate

:-)

The road to you...

The road to you
goes through a path
I'd not be afraid to take
if it wasn't trampling you underneath
The wall that hides you
and protects you from wrath
I'd not hesitate to break
if the debris didn't bury you beneath
I'd not quit
if my win didn't defeat you
I'd not live
if my death didn't beat you
We'd be friends
if you weren't so scared
It'd all be easy
if I hadn't cared.

Sleeping with...

Love does not make itself felt in the desire of copulation with someone ( a desire that may extend to infinitely many) but in the desire of sharing sleep with someone ( a desire limited to one).

~The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Milan Kundera

How touching. And true. Think about the person you really want to fall asleep beside, safe, snug and happy, and you know love. A single metaphor can give rise to love.

Value Education?

One just doesn't know how much something or someone is important to us until it stops being there.

Like air, you don't see it, you even don't know it if you don't feel it, nevertheless you know how much you needed it the moment there's none. It's so easy to take life for granted and not value what we have. Love, for example.

And also, to some extent in today's times, the cellphone/internet/book-collection we are passively addicted to. For no apparent reason, I couldn't send text messages all day from my phone yesterday, and it was then I realized how crippling it is for me even though my phone is scarcely used these days like it used to be. And sure as hell, you need_to text the most on the day you can't. Damn, it was frustrating, for it was ok till the previous night and everything else worked fine anyway. Like that one day I dilli-dallied getting phone validity refilled for a few hours, and while nobody calls me anyway normally, that day I just had to get the calls waiting for me that texted "Call me. Please." Just how compelling is that? And weird. You need the pen the most just when you don't have it. Or the internet. Or the friend.

Life's way of telling us how to value things we have and stop whining for what we don't, is it?

Of young and rebellious women

This post has been delayed too much, and so has the question I wanted to think aloud over in the previous post. The title would be a giveaway, yet, my question arose from something more specific, and this is what it was...just what is the deal with the "young and rebellious" image of blogs written by female authors in blogosphere? My point is, think a little, and you'd suddenly find that a lot of blogs written by women, especially the more popular ones, seem to either fit or endorse or trying-hard-to-fit the image of a young and rebellious blog, or if not that, at least a modern, young, rebellious women author.

This is by no means a general statement or an allegation, but this is a feeling I can't stop getting whenever I'm randomly blog-hopping. It maybe in the look or the blog or in the author's attitude, in the words chosen or in the response evoked by the readers. This element is almost unmistakable. An element of so-called progressiveness and rebellion. An element of out-of-the normal individuality (maybe, simply because of the fact that the normal of our world does not allow for individual expression of themselves by women, more or less) that is either inherent, or the author is trying very very hard to portray. Almost as a matter of pride. In fact, some of the blogs I've come across sometime while browsing randomly are so loudly and promiscuously feminine that the insensitivity in the name of free expression is scary, and I'm afraid may be a reason why the modern rebellious women is stereotyped (so wrongly) with a negative connotation very often. I don't get the point behind all the noise, and sometimes, all the sensuality.

I'm not saying it's a good thing or a bad thing. In fact, I won't be surprised if someone came and told me that this blog also somehow fell into the same category. I'm just exclaiming at something I can't fail to notice. Some of the more read blogs have a larger element of this kind of a modern, rebellious, confessional streak in them, and somehow, it happens with the female authors all the time and less (but definitely does happen) with the men.
Is that some kind of a division in blog world? Does this world of apparent anarchy and freedom also have some kind of, possibly biased for or against, rules of its own? One of my friends once argued that all female blogs enjoy more readership than male ones, or to be more precise, he said that if your readers know you're a female, you'd get more readership if you were writing in complete neutrality and anonymity. I gave him a hundred counter examples at that moment, but maybe, partially, he was right in a way. And if there is such kind of a "favor", I don't like it! I mean, let's be fair, (and I may be offending a few feminists here) you're born either a man or a woman, entirely independent of your choice or anybody's control. It's just normal and natural. What is there to be proud of, or ashamed of, about your sexuality? You're neither less nor more because you're a woman, or in this case, a woman who blogs. But that's only what I think.

P.S. If you're bursting with anger at me for my remarks about women, blast me for sure, but before that read this, just to chill you a little (it's good news) :P If you're a man, irrespective of what you think about this post, go through that link too, because I want to say Yey! :P

Lame

No, contrary to expectations the title doesn't refer to the posts on this blog (that's for you to say, if at all, through comments/emails only :P), although it sorta fits the current state of this blog: random short irregular posts. Blaah, life hi aisi hai. But anyway, the title is meant to tell you that I'm sorta lame, literally, rather me is looli-langdi :P Okay, that sounds far worse than it is...actually, day before, a stupid dog bit me on the leg, though thankfully not too badly (thick jeans! yey!) and it was a pet vaccinated dog so I was saved the injections, but I had to get the tetanus and now my right arm is really sore. So with pain in the left leg and right arm, I'm rather lame (and not otherwise, mind you).

Life doesn't have too much else non-canine and interesting going on, otherwise. I like the feel of the semester going on at full flow, though it's such a breeze for me so far. I liked the feel of having one 24 hr period with a coupld of deadlines and reasonable work that could give my brain some practice and slow down its exponential decay (seriously, is my brain even one-fourth of what it was 4.5 years ago? Dunno!).

I get miffed at little things these days though. Back like when I was young and rebellious, and spent a lot of energy quashing my anger and disappointment at the world by channeling it to myself. That reminds me of a question, but I'd keep it for the next post. I just got miffed at something.

The Nine-to-Five

It may sometimes give you a high
or it may produce a heavy sigh
But when, my friend, the end is nigh
The 9-to-5 is NOT what you'd hang by.

What women definitely don't want...

• is a man who can't take responsibility.
• is a man who can't take responsibility for his feelings, or the lack of them.
• and, very importantly, is a man in their lives who can't take responsibility for her feelings.

This comes from a little reading, a little thinking.
Which is, for me, a little processed thought, a little raw truth. What say?

Zidd, for you

Pyaar na karne ka haq hai tumhara,
nafrat yoon karoge to zulm hi kahoongi
Nazron ke saamne nahi to na sahi
Tum chaaho na chaaho aas-paas hi rahoongi

Template :(

I can't find a single one I like. :(
I have seen hundreds. And I can't zero in enough to spend all the effort on customising (sidebar!!!) and then discard it.

If you come across one, let me know. Please.

Of friends, new and old

The title is a fallacy. Friends are not new and old, or lost and found. Friends are just friends, without adjectives. Once a friend, always a friend. People talk of friends-turned-enemies, or at least have heard of incidents like those. I was myself involved in a relationship that could be deemed as something like that to an outsider for well over two years. But when I honestly ask myself, and look closely at the world around me, I realize that it is something that cannot truly happen. The way we humans are, once we love someone, trust someone, care for someone and accept them in our lives, after that, even if at a later stage we drift apart, fight, forget, break trust, abuse, grow indifferent to or grow to hate that person, even then, heart of hearts we retain something that loves and cares for that person just the same, almost. We can overlook that corner, we may forget that exists, but we can't truly deny it. And it may come back to you at some moment offguard. But all I want to say is, somebody who's once special always stays so, even in their absence. Some of it maybe because of the inherent goodness of people, of us and them, because noone is really evil. Everybody is a precious gem to someone. Their roles and places maybe functionally filled by others who step in, and there will be times when you will say "I don't care any more" and mean it, as honestly as you can tell yourself. But then, even we don't know ourselves 100%, do we?

I have met a lot of irreplaceable people in 21 years of my life. Most of them have moved on, but not without leaving voids. And irrespective of the circumstances that separated me from them, I know I still care like I did, and I know I will. Losing friends hurts, and getting one back from nowhere is a feeling hard to put in words. so I continue to hope some more will come back. I continue to hope they know I'm waiting, they know I still care, and they know that petty differences of opinion or circumstances that may have looked important then, really aren't. Honestly, how many times do you even remember what the dispute was about in sour fights? So I miss the old friends, I hang on to the ones I have, and I grapple with the voids.

And at the same time, I look forward to making new ones. Playing the game. Risking the hurt. Gambling some more with the trust.

Because that's life.

The time's arrived

That time has finally come, that which I knew would come, sooner or later, that which I pretended I knew what to do about when it was here, and that which I secretly hoped would be another one of those worst case scenarios that manifest themselves in my head in a typical attempt at preparing ahead and hence never actually arrive. But it has. It's time to start living by myself and myself alone. It's time to stop hoping for someone to turn up to listen, to stop calling up because you miss someone's voice and to stop expecting to be remembered. It's finally time to learn living without wanting company for food, or for hanging out. It's finally time to stop expecting others to understand. Just do what you need to do. Don't ask how. Even if you still don't have a strategy, it's too late and the war's already on, so deal with it.
Time flies. Even the convocation is finally over. It probably meant something. Maybe just this, that it's finally time to stop waiting.
How do I know?
Because I'm tired of the wait now.

Sarcasm

Sarcasm is entirely lost on some people. Aaargggghhhh...

Ansh

Ansh was waiting for her, sure that she would turn up. He sat in the darkness, listening to all emanating sounds from the adjoining room very carefully, but it was unusually silent. At the same time he had to be careful not to let his tears dry, just somehow keep the tap open at constant minimum speed till she finally came. It grew darker and silent. Nobody came. The door was slightly ajar; Ansh kept staring at the faint white line of light at that corner of the room, waiting for a sign of movement, but none came. This had never happened before. Maybe everyone thought he had already slept by now. But she didn't even come for kissing good night? Was she this mad? A fresh supply of water flooded his face. Won't she forgive him ever? Why hadn't she come? Ansh was more sorry and more afraid with every passing moment, till his eyes got heavy of the wait and were shut before he knew it.

Noise outside woke Ansh up next morning. His cheeks felt dry and tight. He ran outside, determined to find her and show his anger for being denied love and forgiveness. He did find her, lying right in front of his eyes near the door of the house. They'd tried all night in the hospital to save her from the sever hemorrhage her accident caused, but couldn't. She had forgiven him, but couldn't tell him so. Six year old Ansh broke down out of shock. His mother was no more.


[[Question: If this is an excerpt, is the whole story/character of Ansh worth writing?]]

Think!

Ego from self-respect, optimism from denial
love from possession, may be a very thin line
But it's impossible to escape behind lines and lies
in the mirror of one's own eyes

"Man is a social animal"

...said my class two textbook. Is that why we struggle so hard to belong somewhere, to someone, to a certain group of people with certainty and love? Is that why, identity, the curious remarkable thing that defines itself by being defined by everything around it, is so important to us that we constantly seek to establish and hold on to it? Is that why no matter how used to you've grown to walking alone, sometimes you still crave for a companion? No matter how independent and self-sufficient you are, even you need someone to laugh and cry with, even you hate eating alone sometimes?

Why does a sense of security come with reaching out to someone, feeling close to someone? Why is the nothingness of hours, the silence of the wind, the coldness of 'friends' felt like this? Why do we seek escape into illusions where we have no time to realize how lonely we are?

Rehne do, I don't even wanna know. You wouldn't understand.

Questions this week

One for the techies: Is Cuil the next big thing in search, competing with Google, with thrice as many web pages and former Google brains behind it? It doesn't impress a LOT yet though, even if it's slicker, because of a greater upload time and an apparently special aversion to "google" pages, e.g. Blogspot, which almost do not show up in results at all...Interestingly, it openly criticizes Google's "personal" information collection snooping policies by claiming "We believe that analyzing the Web rather than our users is a more useful approach". Also, what do you think, will Google's Knol manage to be bigger, better than wikipedia, eventually??

On stuff considering lesser mortals next, are we really that stupid, that naive a country that while thousands die in terror attacks every year, we spend the days after 23 blasts spanning two major cities blaming Govt and opposition parties and claiming political conspiracies to unsettle state govts. (do they have a sane head on their head? any of them?) instead of reassuring people, preventing fear and rumor and taking strict action. Seriously, every time something so tragic happens, it makes me think about the heartlessness and the mindlessness with which some people do these things. And about the inefficacy of the politicos, though seeing PM walking with the Gujarat CM to the victims was a reassuring glimpse of sanity. But frankly, what doI expect from a country where someone like Mayawati actually has a real chance today to become Prime Minister of India on some frail stitched regional support. How tragic will that be!!! Scares me to death. For good or for worse, the rgional parties in India have gained a lot of muscle at a national stage in the past couple of decades and one of the worst things that has done is creation of divisive ideologies in India, Hindu vs Muslim, Gujjar vs Meena, General vs OBC, Dalit vs Manuwadi, and endless such crap. Shameful.

On another note, this Sunday I was in CP with an hour to kill, so ended up at Oxford bookstore and chanced upon this small but interesting book "Games Indians Play" by V. Ragunathan that basically uses Game theory to find an insight into why are we, the Indians, the way we are? Quite simply, adding a why to "hum aise hi hain". It says a lot of interesting things, including that Indians suffer from a lack of regulation as well as self-regulations, are privately smart and publicly dumb, and are extremely akin to the situation in the Prisoner's Dilemma where everyone rationally chooses a non-cooperation strategy for personal gain and community loss, except without realizing it is a dilemma at all. It attempts to explain why we tend to jump queues or red lights, have poor public hygiene, take short cuts and tend not to keep our part of the bargain fairly in one-off deals. It also hints on half a solution, or half a strategy that makes a lot of sense to me, hence here it goes: The strategy is called Tit for Tat. It says, never defect, that is never not-cooperate, or be unfair to someone, or cheat a rule etc, until the other party cheats on you, and defects first. Then at the next time, you defect, but see if it co-operates. If it does, co-operate again the next time. In short, remember only the previous behavior of the system you interact with and act accordingly, but never defect first. So, each time someone you say hello to someone who ignores you, do not go into the "never again" revenge modes...just avoid until other person decisively greets or and act on this reaction from the next time.

But all this theory apart, you tell me, what do you think, why are we the way we are?

Of laptop ports and crazy hospital staff

So, summer is over and yet another semester begins tomorrow morning, although I don't quite have a class tomorrow. The LAN port of my laptop was slightly loose so the connectivity was maintained only when u pressed the wire a little, however finding a repair for this simple thing took three days as Lenovo wanted to change the motherboard (at 15k!!) and most people asked 2k for opening the lappy to replace something that's worth 40 rupees. That's when I discovered thank-you-Chinese-electronics in the shape of a USB-connected external LAN port for less than 300 bucks, happily sitting as an appendage on my laptop now.

That said, I was at home last week, and you know at home nothing really happens :P Except this week I was brave and finally forced myself to do some shopping, which, unlike 99.9% of girls, I hate. It's a tiring chore, and my inertia against it is so immense that I hadn't bought any summer clothes at all in the last 2-3 years and the only additions in my wardrobe were a couple someone else had brought. And I'd forced my mother with all the protest over her "choice" to not get anything for me on her own. Which is why on Thursday, after dilly-dallying the entire summer, I had everything from shoes to bag to clothes to sun-block on a shopping list, and I forced myself to go through most of it with Mom's help. Eesh.

Have been wanting to write for a couple of days, but somehow circumstances haven't been exactly conducive. Yesterday Ma fell ill and was hospitalized for the night. I had just reached IIT an hour before Dad called and asked me to come, and it was a scary one hour when I wasn't sure what all was wrong, Dad's phone wasn't reachable and the confused hospital authorities made me run for 15 minutes across the hospital from ICU to wards to labs. The staff there is half crazy, I swear ,divided into three clear groups of the Sardarnis , the south Indian nurses and people who are mute. Thankfully mom is all right and home now and tests are normal too, so nothing to worry any more, but for some time I know how scared I was beneath my calm and positive exterior, but nobody will understand that. Thank God it's over. Should be more regular now on in blogosphere.

Among other things, I need to find a way to stay occupied, and find some friends, in order to survive the coming semester. And to learn to live in this new room. Suggestions welcome.

The Great Indian Drama: What's the big DEAL about?

Let's face it: there're plenty of disadvantages of omniscient omnipotent media, not the least being the persistence with which it serves you Dirty filthy politics Live 24X7 day in and day out. It's making me sick in the stomach, the open mud-slinging and disgust on display ever since the drama began on the Nuclear Deal. And even though the Govt continues to stay in power for now, the only victor today has been Mayawati, with an enhanced stature and a real chance at becoming India's PM (yuck yuck, I swear)
Recap, early July: The Left withdrew support as the UPA refused to back out of the 1-2-3 agreement with the US and thus began the numbers game. Frankly, the Indian public has come to expect much of what transpired, and so nobody was surprised. If anything, Left leaving was slightly relieving as it brought hopes that maybe, if the Govt survived, some reforms would go ahead without the political compulsions that Left's persistent threats gave rise to. Afterall, the last four years India has hardly seen an Opposition, with the NDA mostly asleep, and the Govt had to keep fighting tooth n nail within itself thanks to the communist parties. So, in the first part of the July, when political scene heated up with BJP finally seeming to wake up a little, SP abandoning its Congress hatred and coming to the Govt's rescue (for a price much greater than renaming Lucknow Airport, I'm sure) and a third front seeming to re-emerge, nobody was shocked.
If at all, I was amused, watching the constant debates on newstertainment channels. Nobody has a clear stand. Nobody really opposed the nuclear deal as well. NDA would have supported it had it been in Govt, for sure, but as Opposition they must prevent UPA staking credit and hence wanted a "re-negotiation" with US. SP swore by Kalam's word on the greatness of the 1-2-3 and made that their excuse of seeking shelter with Congress, though the political realities of UP and the SP's dire need of survival is hidden from none. And BSP launched daily attacks on SP, UPA and everybody under the roof, with Behenji going to the extent of saying that the Nuclear deal is anti-Islamic and that US will attack Iran the day the deal is through. Wtf, I say. The Left stuck to their anti-deal position, and stuck to the pro-China lobby with heavy anti US criticism, meanwhile throwing the "secular-forces-unity" out of the window. And Congress came out as the hapless appeasement messiah running helter-skelter to garner support. All this while media channels had a field day running contests on the guessing game of numbers and analysing every single analysis.
And even all that at the end of the day failed to shock the common Indian man, mere spectator in the deals behind the Deal. But the last two days, just watching Lok Sabha proceedings on TV fills me with a deep sense of shame. So much, that I really hope we stop calling our inter and intra college debates as Parliamentary debates, because the Parliamentary behavior on display was deeply disgusting. More than once my heart went out to the Speaker, surrounded in no less media controversy of late owing to his CPM origins, for the amount of patience he had to exercise and watch the house make a mess of itself over and over and over again. Are these people fit for representing us internationally?
90% of the time the debate on the house, when someone was allowed to speak and so there was one, concerned everything but the deal. Blames flew in all directions and there was so much mud-slinging that eventually everyone was neck-deep in mud. You could hear everything from Kandahar to 1976 to Pokhran-I to inflation to Rajiv Gandhi's assassination on the floor. When Lalu sounded like he was herding cattle, it ironically felt apt. When Mr. V.K. Malhotra, aspiring Delhi CM (?), went on from the offensive to the abusive, you wanted to cry. There were a few gems, notably Omar Abdullah's and Rahul Gandhi's speech, as well as the seizing of opportunity of North-east and small party MPs to voice regional issues when they had the mike for a change. But fact remains that the PM wasn't even allowed a reply speech at the end in all the mindless yelling and indiscipline.
But the darkest moment of the day came when BJP came up with 1 crore cash inside Parliament alleging bribery. Did the Congress/SP bribe? Did the BJP plant the money as they were losing anyway? I'm sure the media is going to debate this for a long long time, and this is not the last we've heard of all that transpired, but for now, for tonight, I've one question for every single Indian citizen: Do you really care about the answer to that question? Whether this money was given or planted, you know already money's traded all sides by all parties, don't you? You know nobody's clean, not even the holier-than-thou Dr. Manmohan Singh could claim unimpeachable honesty and alienation from what his party does. You know about the trades, whether or not this one is true and whether or not anything is proved. All parties are dirty.Do you really care about one versus another over the money? Whoever gets it, it's our money that should be used to build our houses and fill our stomachs, not of those on-sale commodities they call ministers.
I guess nobody really cares about whose hands on the money, but anyone would be disgusted by the lack of respect for Indian Constitution and Indian Parliament shown today by our leaders. Such a shame for democracy. Such a shame for a "rising superpower" that they want us to believe India is.
I have an appeal too: Waving your head in disgust alone is not going to solve anything. Let us all, every single one of us, people educated and mature enough to understand what's best for the country, let us all vote next elections. Most students I know don't, a majority of India's middle class does not, and I'm not saying this alone will solve all problems, but it could be a start. It could, at least, turn a few collections awry in a few constituencies if all the students turned up to vote. How tough is it to do? After all, it's our future at stake, and I'm sorry to say, it doesn't look good.

@Home

1. People get bored.
2. People wonder about inane things.
3. People realize they've put on so much weight and are yet placed in what must be a paradise for food as compared to hostel so it's impossible to start losing some.:P
4. People sleep. A lot.
   
5. People randomly surf 150 channels on the TV and claim it's idiotic. After watching re-runs of TV programmes they've already watched sometime previously, that is.
   
6. People even start enjoying live Lok Sabha debates. "The govt is in ICU" "Opp leader has amnesia" "We worship Behenji" et al.
   
7. People miss people.
8. People suddenly find the net not-so-fun too. For not-so-long that is. OR when nobody's online.
   
9. People debate the merits and demerits of having a bath when they're stuck 24 hours between 4 walls (and a ceiling) anyway.
   
10. People write crapy posts and crappy comments on others' posts (so much that you need to stop to avoid blog-nikalaa)
    

It's all in the head :)

I've been wanting to write for a few days now, but everyday, something or the other mutes my words. Not much of an excuse, but then, nobody can force anyone to write anything, including yourself. Hence my musing has been confined to talking aloud, which is what this post is going to sound like, most probably.

The summer semester is finally over. I'm thinking of taking a break now for a week before the next semester begins. I don't know how that's gonna feel like, with no friends, little work and the feeling of being terribly old. But then, I guess it's all in the head. When I speak to some of my old friends struggling to come to terms with their new work lives, I realise again, it is all in the head. :)

Thankfully, I'm much more at peace than I was two months ago. Life feels not bad most of the time, and that's a happy event. The feeling of not being listened to has been replaced by the urge of not wanting to talk, and it's liberating because now it doesn't need anyone, and is just happy when someone's there, not too sad when someone isn't. Speaking of which, Doc's going to US tonight(!)...I hope he's back soon enough, but I hope more that he has a blast there (and brings me chocolates :D). Jokes apart, it feels good to have some friends who want to see you sometimes; it feels great to see them once in a while and laugh like crazy. Real good. Touchwood.

Though underneath it all, the feeling of everybody moving on is sorta sunk in. How long can one live in denial anyway. Everybody has a life, their needs, their musts and their wants. Everybody moves on with it, and their relationship with you moves on to a different level as well. It could be indifferent oblivion, it could be a nominal hanging-on, or it could be something equally deep manifested at another level. I don't know why we are so scared of change, especially when it changes what we mean to someone. I know it's an awful feeling to feel unneeded all of a sudden, especially when you need them just the same still, and it's something that one can take forever to come to terms with. Yet, all I can do is hope it's for the good. And that I would know, and be strong enough to act, when the love's fizzed and it's time to move on. I hope it's not all in my head. I hope it's all for the good. :)

I shifted my room yesterday in my hostel, which meant hours of climbing up and down with enormous luggage (how much luggage do I carry!!) that I still haven't completely sifted. After 18 months of living in a dark corner whose darkness I'd fallen in love with so much that most of my waking hours were spent without the tubelight on, this one has a bright window behind my head. I wonder if that is a sign of things to come in the following year. I hope it's good.

I have stumbled on a few blogs of first and second year people recently, and each time something or the other becomes a mirror to the times that were, the excitement that even I was a part of. The archives of this blog help in remembering some of that, but the fun is when my statcounter tells me a number of users, some of them the same juniors, went through the archives just like I did. I hope they don't commit the same mistakes as I did.:)