ek anjaan bageeche mein
pagal bhramar bhraman karta
milan sundar kali ka ho
bas yahi aas kshan kshan karta
youvan pankh umang sahit
us premi ne udaan bhari
har ang ang khila phoolon ka
khil khil kar muskaan bhari
aalingan par un pushpon ka
na uske man ko tha bhaaya
prem-vash tha vivash bhramar ke
dil mein ik sundar kaaya
madmast bhramar vo man mera
tarase hai prem kali paavan
rang bhar de sundarta jiski
mohit kar de mera jeevan
Wednesday 10 October 2007
Friday 31 August 2007
Truth.
Can someone give me one example of Truth given the definition below?
Truth is infallible.
Truth is immutable.
Truth is permanent.
Truth is one.
Truth is infallible.
Truth is immutable.
Truth is permanent.
Truth is one.
Tuesday 31 July 2007
what drives you?
Why do certain people relish solving tough problems and coming up trumps with a solution?
Why do certain people take up seemingly impossible challenges to overcome them?
In any institute where one may have studied, there would be a few students who would be classified
as "brilliant", better than the rest, and would be expected to top every exam.
The others are happy and contented in their mediocrity, have either given up trying, or do not
harbour any intentions to put an extra effort.
Take one such "brilliant" student. She has always revelled in topping all exams. She believes that
she is bound to lead when it comes to academics; that she must always set an example before others.
This students is brimming with confidence, and as a logical progression to one's academic pursuit, lands
up in a renowned institute venerated for its quality of education and what not.
Here, the student finds herself among many other brilliant students coming from different backgrounds.
Suddenly, she finds she is no longer one of the privileged ones. She is not who everyone looks upto.
Heck, she is finding it difficult to top her examinations and is consistenly outperformed by not one
but many of her counterparts.
She starts losing confidence in herself and starts doubting her very abilities.
An institue is a place where students come to learn, build up confidence to go out and face the world.
If a student who was full of confidence comes to this institute, loses it completely, and starts doubting
one's abilities, then is the institute not actually doing a disservice? :-)
Why do certain people take up seemingly impossible challenges to overcome them?
In any institute where one may have studied, there would be a few students who would be classified
as "brilliant", better than the rest, and would be expected to top every exam.
The others are happy and contented in their mediocrity, have either given up trying, or do not
harbour any intentions to put an extra effort.
Take one such "brilliant" student. She has always revelled in topping all exams. She believes that
she is bound to lead when it comes to academics; that she must always set an example before others.
This students is brimming with confidence, and as a logical progression to one's academic pursuit, lands
up in a renowned institute venerated for its quality of education and what not.
Here, the student finds herself among many other brilliant students coming from different backgrounds.
Suddenly, she finds she is no longer one of the privileged ones. She is not who everyone looks upto.
Heck, she is finding it difficult to top her examinations and is consistenly outperformed by not one
but many of her counterparts.
She starts losing confidence in herself and starts doubting her very abilities.
An institue is a place where students come to learn, build up confidence to go out and face the world.
If a student who was full of confidence comes to this institute, loses it completely, and starts doubting
one's abilities, then is the institute not actually doing a disservice? :-)
Sunday 22 July 2007
Wednesday 11 July 2007
God help us..
What must he (name withheld) do?
He sees a girl and develops a strong crush for her. He develops a strong crush for her because she reminds him of a girl he hates. He hates that girl because he deeply loves her. He deeply loves her but doesn't feel ready to commit. He doesn't feel ready to commit because she hates him. Interestingly, she hates him because she deeply loves him. He doesn't feel he is capable of doing justice to "being in love". To sum it up, he is getting attracted to a girl he doesn't love. :)
Any suggestions?
ps: I couldn't think of any thing to suggest him, except maybe,... in fact,... I couldn't suggest anything.
pps: If fate does bring her to this blog one day, "He deeply loves the girl he hates and would want to spend the rest of his life with the girl he can not commit to." :D
He sees a girl and develops a strong crush for her. He develops a strong crush for her because she reminds him of a girl he hates. He hates that girl because he deeply loves her. He deeply loves her but doesn't feel ready to commit. He doesn't feel ready to commit because she hates him. Interestingly, she hates him because she deeply loves him. He doesn't feel he is capable of doing justice to "being in love". To sum it up, he is getting attracted to a girl he doesn't love. :)
Any suggestions?
ps: I couldn't think of any thing to suggest him, except maybe,... in fact,... I couldn't suggest anything.
pps: If fate does bring her to this blog one day, "He deeply loves the girl he hates and would want to spend the rest of his life with the girl he can not commit to." :D
Monday 9 July 2007
purity
Purity of mind, purity in thoughts, purity in actions. - can a human being ever be without violating any of these?
possible candidates -
saints, priests, teachers, mothers.
but we must remember that each of these are driven by a deep and powerful selfish interest...
...and an individual plays more than one role in his/her life.
ps: Never betray LOVE.
pps: If you do, never betray it.
possible candidates -
saints, priests, teachers, mothers.
but we must remember that each of these are driven by a deep and powerful selfish interest...
...and an individual plays more than one role in his/her life.
ps: Never betray LOVE.
pps: If you do, never betray it.
Saturday 21 April 2007
Life
As life got busier and busier,
the time cruised by,
and now I try to catch some moments,
some memories flashing by.
undeterred and adamant,
the stream flows on,
how I wish could stop it,
halt it, but it goes on.
and soon would go the moments
that I would have loved to cherish
those flowers fragrant, the rivers tranquil,
those wonderful relations that I relish.
As I stand at the end of the road
looking back, I say to myself,
the end that I had ran to never did exist,
that the end was in the journey itself.
the time cruised by,
and now I try to catch some moments,
some memories flashing by.
undeterred and adamant,
the stream flows on,
how I wish could stop it,
halt it, but it goes on.
and soon would go the moments
that I would have loved to cherish
those flowers fragrant, the rivers tranquil,
those wonderful relations that I relish.
As I stand at the end of the road
looking back, I say to myself,
the end that I had ran to never did exist,
that the end was in the journey itself.
Tuesday 17 April 2007
Foreign Affair
Ashok Babu true to his middle-class nature believed in the superiority of everything foreign or imported. His abode in Kalyani Nagar comprised of an eclectic collection of items procured from places as diverse as Timbuktu and Tokyo. An American Television, a Swiss watch, and a Japanese tape recorder were some of his prized possessions. He assumed an air of pride bordering on arrogance among other residents of Kalyani Nagar. Lately, he had been advised some physical exercise by his doctor and he perceived this as an opportunity to procure yet another foreign-made item to enhance his relative status in the society. With this pleasant thought in mind, he proceeded to the bicycle shop at the marketplace nearby. With an air of hauteur possessed usually by the kings of bygone eras, he summoned the shop owner and ordered,
"Show me the best bicycle that you have."
The shop-owner obliged like an obedient servant and led him to a section of the shop that had more bicycles than people around that conveyed obviously to Ashok Babu that the place displayed bicycles worth more than the general affordability of the more common populace. He beamed an egotistic smile. He could have patted his back with his own hands if only they could venture beyond the circumference of his prosperous belly.
"I want only a foreign-made bicycle. These Indian-made ones are cheap and are of an inferior quality. If you have any foreign-made bicycles then show them to me else don't waste my time", he said emphatically.
"We have the best in the world, Sir. Don't you worry at all. I will show you the best and nothing but the best bicycles."
"But they are foreign-made, aren't they?"
"Yes, of course, Sir. None of them have even a part that is manufactured in India."
Ashok Babu was visibly pleased with the answer and with an appreciative eye began inspecting the exhibits in the order of increasing price. For each product that he eyed, the shop-owner embarked on a rote-learned recitation of its qualities and features that entitled the bicycle to be deemed as the best in the world. Finally, Ashok Babu stopped next to the most expensive bicycle and scrutinized it with the kind of perspicacity that is usually possessed by women purchasing vegetables in the market.
The shop-owner having perceived Ashok Babu's affirmative glances began enumerating all the qualities of the bicycle and in the process rattled off the names of all the countries where each part of the bicycle was manufactured.
Pleased with the description, Ashok Babu decided to purchase it immediately.
"That will be 5000 rupees, Sir!"
The amount sounded exorbitant to Ashok Babu and he almost as quickly decided to label the doctor a quack and consult another one who could instead prescribe him a magic pill than advise exercise, but the delicious opportunity of stamping his superior status on his neighbours and witness their faces painted with jealousy and envy prevented him from doing so and he fished into his pocket and brought out a bundle of notes, counted the required amount, and handed over the money to the shop-owner.
"It better be worth all the money."
"Sure sir, it is. As an additional security measure, I would suggest you to purchase a lock for the bicycle. I have some in my shop if you are interested."
"Well, that is a good idea. Are the locks too imported?"
"Er, no Sir. They aren't. Unfortunately, we have only Indian locks."
An Indian lock on an imported bicycle! Almost outrightly Ashok babu rejected the idea. His bicycle deserved nothing less than a swiss lock. What a matter of shame it would be for him otherwise! He rejected the shop-owner's suggestion and admonished him for even suggesting so.
Visibly bloated with happiness and pride over his latest purchase, Ashok Babu emerged out of the cycle shop dragging along his brand new bicycle alongside him. He decided to celebrate this joyous occasion at Guptaji's shop – his favourite sweet shop in the middle of the busy market place of Kalyani Nagar – by feasting on a kilo or two of delicious Jalebis.
Guptaji received him with customary graciousness reserved for his most special customers. Even before being asked, Ashok Babu announced his latest achievement to the motley group of people around the shop and went about his business of gorging on the choicest sweets the shop had to offer.
Contented and satisfied, Ashok Babu decided to go home and after having paid the bill, came out of the shop, and, as he had done in the past, promptly called for a taxi and went home.
It is only when he was smugly reminiscing about the day's events that it struck him that he had left the bicycle outside Guptaji's shop. Not that people of Kalyani Nagar were notorious kleptomaniacs. However, it would be imprudent to believe that an expensive item such as his bicycle would not draw the attention of, or indeed tempt an honest man into immoralilty.
The sudden prospect of losing his prized possession instilled into him a briskness and a religious zeal that had long been not witnessed in his demeanour. He shot off towards Guptaji's shop with a prayer on his lips. He promised himself that if he found his bicycle he would immediately visit the temple on the outskirts of Kalyani Nagar and offer generous oblations.
Soon enough, he was at Guptaji's shop huffing and puffing and catching on his breath. There, outside the shop, in the golden light of the setting sun, his bicycle shone like a magnificent piece carved out in gold. Never had he felt the enormous elation he felt in his heart then. If he could, he would have jumped in joy but the sheer gravity acting on him kept his feet planted firmly on the ground.
He hugged his bicycle like a mother who hugs her long-separated child. He held the bicycle in his hands and began dragging it along. As promised, he decided to visit the temple and express his gratitude to the Gods for protecting his beloved bicycle. He laboured all the way to the outskirts of the town where the temple was situated.
He parked his bicycle outside the temple and went in. True to his words, he offered a generous donation of a hundred and one rupees – an auspicious amount - to the temple and profusely thanked the Gods.
His heart light with happiness and joy, Ashok Babu emeged out of the temple, wore his shoes and walked towards where his bicycle was parked. Only this time, the bicycle wasn't there.
"Show me the best bicycle that you have."
The shop-owner obliged like an obedient servant and led him to a section of the shop that had more bicycles than people around that conveyed obviously to Ashok Babu that the place displayed bicycles worth more than the general affordability of the more common populace. He beamed an egotistic smile. He could have patted his back with his own hands if only they could venture beyond the circumference of his prosperous belly.
"I want only a foreign-made bicycle. These Indian-made ones are cheap and are of an inferior quality. If you have any foreign-made bicycles then show them to me else don't waste my time", he said emphatically.
"We have the best in the world, Sir. Don't you worry at all. I will show you the best and nothing but the best bicycles."
"But they are foreign-made, aren't they?"
"Yes, of course, Sir. None of them have even a part that is manufactured in India."
Ashok Babu was visibly pleased with the answer and with an appreciative eye began inspecting the exhibits in the order of increasing price. For each product that he eyed, the shop-owner embarked on a rote-learned recitation of its qualities and features that entitled the bicycle to be deemed as the best in the world. Finally, Ashok Babu stopped next to the most expensive bicycle and scrutinized it with the kind of perspicacity that is usually possessed by women purchasing vegetables in the market.
The shop-owner having perceived Ashok Babu's affirmative glances began enumerating all the qualities of the bicycle and in the process rattled off the names of all the countries where each part of the bicycle was manufactured.
Pleased with the description, Ashok Babu decided to purchase it immediately.
"That will be 5000 rupees, Sir!"
The amount sounded exorbitant to Ashok Babu and he almost as quickly decided to label the doctor a quack and consult another one who could instead prescribe him a magic pill than advise exercise, but the delicious opportunity of stamping his superior status on his neighbours and witness their faces painted with jealousy and envy prevented him from doing so and he fished into his pocket and brought out a bundle of notes, counted the required amount, and handed over the money to the shop-owner.
"It better be worth all the money."
"Sure sir, it is. As an additional security measure, I would suggest you to purchase a lock for the bicycle. I have some in my shop if you are interested."
"Well, that is a good idea. Are the locks too imported?"
"Er, no Sir. They aren't. Unfortunately, we have only Indian locks."
An Indian lock on an imported bicycle! Almost outrightly Ashok babu rejected the idea. His bicycle deserved nothing less than a swiss lock. What a matter of shame it would be for him otherwise! He rejected the shop-owner's suggestion and admonished him for even suggesting so.
Visibly bloated with happiness and pride over his latest purchase, Ashok Babu emerged out of the cycle shop dragging along his brand new bicycle alongside him. He decided to celebrate this joyous occasion at Guptaji's shop – his favourite sweet shop in the middle of the busy market place of Kalyani Nagar – by feasting on a kilo or two of delicious Jalebis.
Guptaji received him with customary graciousness reserved for his most special customers. Even before being asked, Ashok Babu announced his latest achievement to the motley group of people around the shop and went about his business of gorging on the choicest sweets the shop had to offer.
Contented and satisfied, Ashok Babu decided to go home and after having paid the bill, came out of the shop, and, as he had done in the past, promptly called for a taxi and went home.
It is only when he was smugly reminiscing about the day's events that it struck him that he had left the bicycle outside Guptaji's shop. Not that people of Kalyani Nagar were notorious kleptomaniacs. However, it would be imprudent to believe that an expensive item such as his bicycle would not draw the attention of, or indeed tempt an honest man into immoralilty.
The sudden prospect of losing his prized possession instilled into him a briskness and a religious zeal that had long been not witnessed in his demeanour. He shot off towards Guptaji's shop with a prayer on his lips. He promised himself that if he found his bicycle he would immediately visit the temple on the outskirts of Kalyani Nagar and offer generous oblations.
Soon enough, he was at Guptaji's shop huffing and puffing and catching on his breath. There, outside the shop, in the golden light of the setting sun, his bicycle shone like a magnificent piece carved out in gold. Never had he felt the enormous elation he felt in his heart then. If he could, he would have jumped in joy but the sheer gravity acting on him kept his feet planted firmly on the ground.
He hugged his bicycle like a mother who hugs her long-separated child. He held the bicycle in his hands and began dragging it along. As promised, he decided to visit the temple and express his gratitude to the Gods for protecting his beloved bicycle. He laboured all the way to the outskirts of the town where the temple was situated.
He parked his bicycle outside the temple and went in. True to his words, he offered a generous donation of a hundred and one rupees – an auspicious amount - to the temple and profusely thanked the Gods.
His heart light with happiness and joy, Ashok Babu emeged out of the temple, wore his shoes and walked towards where his bicycle was parked. Only this time, the bicycle wasn't there.
Sunday 8 April 2007
War and Ego
If there is one phenomenon that the entire Human history is ridden with, then it is definitely War. Just open a book of History and randomly run your finger to any one page and you would most likely find a reference to a war. Numerous reasons are given for a war - battle for truth, battle for good, battle for Gods etc. A lot of consequences have also been elaborated - destruction, gloom, poverty, diseases etc.
But what sustains a war?; why the parties involved in a war want to continue to wage it despite knowing its consequences all too well? How many times have we heard people say that they would rather not have a war but they can't help it. What does one mean by "cannot help it" ? Is it really true that they are helpless or is it that they do not want to help themselves?
One factor that I seem to notice in all these conflicts is a strong presence of EGO. War is an excellent exercise in fuelling one's EGO. Taking initiative to broke peace is perceived to be a sign of weakness in the party offering truce. Alternately, if a party that has had an upper hand suddenly offers peace to its opponent, it is taken as a sign of humiliation by the opponent; all the more reason for him/her to continue to wage the war and not accept the peace offer.
After the war has run for a prolonged time, if the two parties involved do decide to sit down and fashion a peaceful solution to the problem, neither of the sides is willing to compromise on its stand. The sheer cost, effort and time that has been expended on waging the war prohibits any compromise, otherwise it might make the warring parties look like fools for having waged a war on something that could have been solved by a dialogue and compromise. The EGO yet again comes into play.
One may find such similarities in a discord that emerges between a husband and a wife, or between two siblings, or between two lovers. None of the parties is happy being in the discord and would want to resolve the issue amicably and live happily with each other. However, their respective EGOs would prevent them from taking the first step towards a resolution lest they are perceived to be the weaker party and are seen willing to compromise - something which the other might take advantage of to further his/her opinion or position. Hence the deadlock continues and a relation that should have blossomed happily continues to sour to its destruction.
That is why it is often said that the most precious word in a relationship is SORRY. This word not only immediately assuages the EGO of the opponent almost instantaneously but also gives us an opportunity to look within ourselves to see if the mistake, or part thereof, does lie with us. If both parties follow this principle, then the relationship never ever faces an EGO clash as both parties would look forward to a compromise almost as soon as a conflict or a contentious issue rears its head.
Maybe, there is an equivalent of SORRY word in WAR too. Everytime, a discord emerges that could be a potential cause for a war, the two parties must utter the "SORRY" word and sit down and formulate a compromise solution. Maybe then we would be able to maintain peace and happiness in the world.
But what sustains a war?; why the parties involved in a war want to continue to wage it despite knowing its consequences all too well? How many times have we heard people say that they would rather not have a war but they can't help it. What does one mean by "cannot help it" ? Is it really true that they are helpless or is it that they do not want to help themselves?
One factor that I seem to notice in all these conflicts is a strong presence of EGO. War is an excellent exercise in fuelling one's EGO. Taking initiative to broke peace is perceived to be a sign of weakness in the party offering truce. Alternately, if a party that has had an upper hand suddenly offers peace to its opponent, it is taken as a sign of humiliation by the opponent; all the more reason for him/her to continue to wage the war and not accept the peace offer.
After the war has run for a prolonged time, if the two parties involved do decide to sit down and fashion a peaceful solution to the problem, neither of the sides is willing to compromise on its stand. The sheer cost, effort and time that has been expended on waging the war prohibits any compromise, otherwise it might make the warring parties look like fools for having waged a war on something that could have been solved by a dialogue and compromise. The EGO yet again comes into play.
One may find such similarities in a discord that emerges between a husband and a wife, or between two siblings, or between two lovers. None of the parties is happy being in the discord and would want to resolve the issue amicably and live happily with each other. However, their respective EGOs would prevent them from taking the first step towards a resolution lest they are perceived to be the weaker party and are seen willing to compromise - something which the other might take advantage of to further his/her opinion or position. Hence the deadlock continues and a relation that should have blossomed happily continues to sour to its destruction.
That is why it is often said that the most precious word in a relationship is SORRY. This word not only immediately assuages the EGO of the opponent almost instantaneously but also gives us an opportunity to look within ourselves to see if the mistake, or part thereof, does lie with us. If both parties follow this principle, then the relationship never ever faces an EGO clash as both parties would look forward to a compromise almost as soon as a conflict or a contentious issue rears its head.
Maybe, there is an equivalent of SORRY word in WAR too. Everytime, a discord emerges that could be a potential cause for a war, the two parties must utter the "SORRY" word and sit down and formulate a compromise solution. Maybe then we would be able to maintain peace and happiness in the world.
Tuesday 27 March 2007
Thursday 22 March 2007
Marriage
My heart racing fast
sweat on my forehead
My ears were oblivious
to what was being said.
I stood there stupefied
wondering what to do
what state of madness
this situation brought me to.
The nerves were a wreck
I wanted to run far away
I could not bear the burden
of responsibilities coming my way
Then she appeared before me
all demure and shy
A subdued smile on her lips
probably a tear in her eye
Her beauty was enchanting
and my heart skipped a beat
Her lips so full of life
her voice so sweet.
And suddenly the world changed
and I did not want to run away
I wanted to hold her, kiss her
and make love to her all day.
I could not live without her
that I came to know for sure
I could take on the world if she was with me
and suddenly I wasn't afraid any more.
sweat on my forehead
My ears were oblivious
to what was being said.
I stood there stupefied
wondering what to do
what state of madness
this situation brought me to.
The nerves were a wreck
I wanted to run far away
I could not bear the burden
of responsibilities coming my way
Then she appeared before me
all demure and shy
A subdued smile on her lips
probably a tear in her eye
Her beauty was enchanting
and my heart skipped a beat
Her lips so full of life
her voice so sweet.
And suddenly the world changed
and I did not want to run away
I wanted to hold her, kiss her
and make love to her all day.
I could not live without her
that I came to know for sure
I could take on the world if she was with me
and suddenly I wasn't afraid any more.
Thursday 1 March 2007
Talk on dear...
Scene 1
The team is in a resort having fun its own ways - in the pool, at the snooker table, badminton court etc.
All except one who has received a call on his phone and is sitting in a corner and has been talking
for over two hours now..
Scene 2
With the exhaustion evident on his face, eyes red, and sleep lingering on his eyes, the man enters the office.
I inquire of the reason of his state. "Had been on the phone till late in the morning..."
Scene 3
The sun sets, night descends and most of the private rooms in office are occupied - not to attend conference calls - but by many men to indulge in separate private tete-a-tete that can run from anywhere between 2 to 5 hours.
What is it about "engaged" couples that makes them want to talk so much over phone night after night after night? If it was one or two then I would have been inclined to believe that it was only an aberration, but the more men I see getting engaged the more I see them hanging on to the phones involved in long conversations with their counterparts. I am led to believe that maybe there is something intrinsically wrong with me that I find the idea of being on the phone for so long night after night a very frightening, annoying, and a very stressful exercise.
Take the example of the poor man in scene 1. He was on an outing enjoying with his friends and would have probably liked to spend the time (at least I would have loved to) mucking about in the pool with the rest of his friends, or indulge in a game of tennis or badminton. Certainly, these are not activities that one has access to on normal days and the very fact that one has to spend the time meant to be spent with one's friends talking to one's fiance on the phone while the rest of the gang enjoys seems to be a little cruel on the poor chap.
It is a wonder what and how much content could there be to talk about everyday for hours on. Even if I concede that a new couple has a lot of things to share, I cannot imagine that the corpus of information is not exhausted within a month of daily talkathons. What after that? I am sure even an account of the day's activities cannot merit
two-three hours of elaboration.
A lot of guys I know do not enjoy such long conversations - they take part in such conversations only because the other half wants them to - and they play along with the, pardon me for the use of the word, ordeal day after day. Some of them do try to justify that it is essential that a couple talks or communicates so much to lay solid foundation for a long lasting relationship. Does that mean if a guy does not have the financial means to foot the resulting telephone bill then he is doomed in his relationships with the woman he loves? By this logic, the couple in my previous generation should not have stayed together for as long as they have now. Clearly, there is a flaw in that logic. My parents are now married for over 27 years and (touchwood) still seem to going as strong as ever.
So, what is the logic behind this madness of talking over phone? What recourse does a guy who does not like have long conversations over phone have? Does he go and tell the girl that they should limit their conversations to 30 to 60 minutes everyday? "Suicide" is how some of my friends describe such a situation. In a way, there seems to be some justification for the girls' eagerness to spend some talking to their loved ones especially if they see most of their friends bragging about the duration of their romantic conversations the next day. It would naturally make any girl doubt the intensity or sincerity of their fiances' love. Funnily, the duration of phone conversations has become a direct measure of a couple's love in this telecommunication age.
Currently I do not seem to find any solution to this nagging problem and unless girls start talking less, or I change, there seems to be no light at the end of this tunnel. Maybe I am doomed. "18 till I die", someone said. In my case, it probably will be "18 and single till I die".
The team is in a resort having fun its own ways - in the pool, at the snooker table, badminton court etc.
All except one who has received a call on his phone and is sitting in a corner and has been talking
for over two hours now..
Scene 2
With the exhaustion evident on his face, eyes red, and sleep lingering on his eyes, the man enters the office.
I inquire of the reason of his state. "Had been on the phone till late in the morning..."
Scene 3
The sun sets, night descends and most of the private rooms in office are occupied - not to attend conference calls - but by many men to indulge in separate private tete-a-tete that can run from anywhere between 2 to 5 hours.
What is it about "engaged" couples that makes them want to talk so much over phone night after night after night? If it was one or two then I would have been inclined to believe that it was only an aberration, but the more men I see getting engaged the more I see them hanging on to the phones involved in long conversations with their counterparts. I am led to believe that maybe there is something intrinsically wrong with me that I find the idea of being on the phone for so long night after night a very frightening, annoying, and a very stressful exercise.
Take the example of the poor man in scene 1. He was on an outing enjoying with his friends and would have probably liked to spend the time (at least I would have loved to) mucking about in the pool with the rest of his friends, or indulge in a game of tennis or badminton. Certainly, these are not activities that one has access to on normal days and the very fact that one has to spend the time meant to be spent with one's friends talking to one's fiance on the phone while the rest of the gang enjoys seems to be a little cruel on the poor chap.
It is a wonder what and how much content could there be to talk about everyday for hours on. Even if I concede that a new couple has a lot of things to share, I cannot imagine that the corpus of information is not exhausted within a month of daily talkathons. What after that? I am sure even an account of the day's activities cannot merit
two-three hours of elaboration.
A lot of guys I know do not enjoy such long conversations - they take part in such conversations only because the other half wants them to - and they play along with the, pardon me for the use of the word, ordeal day after day. Some of them do try to justify that it is essential that a couple talks or communicates so much to lay solid foundation for a long lasting relationship. Does that mean if a guy does not have the financial means to foot the resulting telephone bill then he is doomed in his relationships with the woman he loves? By this logic, the couple in my previous generation should not have stayed together for as long as they have now. Clearly, there is a flaw in that logic. My parents are now married for over 27 years and (touchwood) still seem to going as strong as ever.
So, what is the logic behind this madness of talking over phone? What recourse does a guy who does not like have long conversations over phone have? Does he go and tell the girl that they should limit their conversations to 30 to 60 minutes everyday? "Suicide" is how some of my friends describe such a situation. In a way, there seems to be some justification for the girls' eagerness to spend some talking to their loved ones especially if they see most of their friends bragging about the duration of their romantic conversations the next day. It would naturally make any girl doubt the intensity or sincerity of their fiances' love. Funnily, the duration of phone conversations has become a direct measure of a couple's love in this telecommunication age.
Currently I do not seem to find any solution to this nagging problem and unless girls start talking less, or I change, there seems to be no light at the end of this tunnel. Maybe I am doomed. "18 till I die", someone said. In my case, it probably will be "18 and single till I die".
Friday 23 February 2007
night out song.
neend aa rahi hai
mujhe neend aa rahi hai
neend aane se
thak jaane se
ubaasi aa rahi hai
1)
kal bhi mai na soya
aur aaj bhi so na paaunga
office mein rahoonga
ghar wapas ja na paaunga
night out maar.un
kaam se haar.un
udaasi chaa rahi hai
2)
naukari karte karte
mai to sona hi bhool gaya
ab aise din beete
khaana peena bhi bhool gaya
dil behlaa.un
aur samajhaau.n
kamaai to aa rahi hai
mujhe neend aa rahi hai
neend aane se
thak jaane se
ubaasi aa rahi hai
1)
kal bhi mai na soya
aur aaj bhi so na paaunga
office mein rahoonga
ghar wapas ja na paaunga
night out maar.un
kaam se haar.un
udaasi chaa rahi hai
2)
naukari karte karte
mai to sona hi bhool gaya
ab aise din beete
khaana peena bhi bhool gaya
dil behlaa.un
aur samajhaau.n
kamaai to aa rahi hai
Friday 9 February 2007
Blind love
Life is funny in that it can make one realize what a wonderful gift it is in very many subtle ways just when you think you could have had it better. For the last few months near the place where I live I have noticed a number of people happily walking all the way to their place of work in the morning and then walk back home in the evening, stopping at the small temple at the road side and reciting a small prayer with a head bowed in reverence and devotion. Everyday, they walk alone, and most importantly happily, with a smile on their faces and carry out this routine with what I perceive to be a deep-seated gratitude in their hearts towards God for having given them such a wonderful gift of Life.
And today, once again, another couple of people made me realize the futility or irrationaliy, unreasonableness, or, if I may dare say, foolishness of our tendency to carp about our lives. The couple had a beautiful baby girl in their arms, the husband was ready to leave for his office but had probably taken some time out just take his beautiful daughter for that precious morning stroll that every child eagerly looks forward to with its father just when he is leaving for office. There was so much love between them that it touched a chord.
So what is special about these people? What makes them different from other such people and couples?
Just one thing - they are all blind.
ps: "Happiness is only a state of mind"
And today, once again, another couple of people made me realize the futility or irrationaliy, unreasonableness, or, if I may dare say, foolishness of our tendency to carp about our lives. The couple had a beautiful baby girl in their arms, the husband was ready to leave for his office but had probably taken some time out just take his beautiful daughter for that precious morning stroll that every child eagerly looks forward to with its father just when he is leaving for office. There was so much love between them that it touched a chord.
So what is special about these people? What makes them different from other such people and couples?
Just one thing - they are all blind.
ps: "Happiness is only a state of mind"
Tuesday 30 January 2007
How convenient.
At first the man was happy. He ate, slept and
occasionaly indulged in copulation.
Till he realized life was very inconvenient having to walk all the way everytime an ice age occurs.
Also, the coldness of ice wasn't helping either.
So one day the man suddenly created the wheel.
Then he accidently created fire.
Then he figured he was taking too much time travelling between his hunting ground and his home-cave, so he created a cart using the wheels to make his life more convenient.
Then he figured he needed something to push it, so he decided to yoke horses to his cart.
Once he could save some time travelling, his wife decided to put the spare time to better use by shopping.
Gradually, the list of items to shop grew longer and soon there were more things to shop and less time.
So he built an engine to replace his horses.
The engine required fuel. So he created mines to mine the fuel.
Soon other men decided they too wanted one of these fast moving things so they asked our man to make some more.
So the man now set up factories to produce more vehicles.
As the demand grew, the man decided to make things more
convenient by building machines that would build carts.
Someone else in the meantime decided to build his own
cart.
Soon there were a lot of carts and no fuel.
So the man decided to dig deeper in the ground for the fuel.
When he could find none, he decided to find it elsewhere.
Soon there were a lot of men digging deep elsewhere.
Gradually, no more elsewheres could be found.
In the meantime, the man realized that his cart ride was very bumpy.
So to make his ride more comfortable, he decided to build roads.
But the roads would be spoiled by rains.
So he decided to use up some of his fuel to build tar roads.
Now that the roads were better, other men wanted to travel farther and wider.
So more roads needed to be built.
Soon, a lot of fuel was being burnt so that more fuel could be burnt.
And then again, there wasn't much fuel remaining.
So man decided to snatch someone else's fuel.
This led to physical combats.
To gain advantage, man built weapons.
Other men built better weapons.
Soon men were creating more weapons than men.
So more machines were required to build more weapons.
More weapons meant more machines that meant more fuel that meant more weapons that meant more machines.. and er.. one gets the point.
And now, man is happy how convenient his life has become.
occasionaly indulged in copulation.
Till he realized life was very inconvenient having to walk all the way everytime an ice age occurs.
Also, the coldness of ice wasn't helping either.
So one day the man suddenly created the wheel.
Then he accidently created fire.
Then he figured he was taking too much time travelling between his hunting ground and his home-cave, so he created a cart using the wheels to make his life more convenient.
Then he figured he needed something to push it, so he decided to yoke horses to his cart.
Once he could save some time travelling, his wife decided to put the spare time to better use by shopping.
Gradually, the list of items to shop grew longer and soon there were more things to shop and less time.
So he built an engine to replace his horses.
The engine required fuel. So he created mines to mine the fuel.
Soon other men decided they too wanted one of these fast moving things so they asked our man to make some more.
So the man now set up factories to produce more vehicles.
As the demand grew, the man decided to make things more
convenient by building machines that would build carts.
Someone else in the meantime decided to build his own
cart.
Soon there were a lot of carts and no fuel.
So the man decided to dig deeper in the ground for the fuel.
When he could find none, he decided to find it elsewhere.
Soon there were a lot of men digging deep elsewhere.
Gradually, no more elsewheres could be found.
In the meantime, the man realized that his cart ride was very bumpy.
So to make his ride more comfortable, he decided to build roads.
But the roads would be spoiled by rains.
So he decided to use up some of his fuel to build tar roads.
Now that the roads were better, other men wanted to travel farther and wider.
So more roads needed to be built.
Soon, a lot of fuel was being burnt so that more fuel could be burnt.
And then again, there wasn't much fuel remaining.
So man decided to snatch someone else's fuel.
This led to physical combats.
To gain advantage, man built weapons.
Other men built better weapons.
Soon men were creating more weapons than men.
So more machines were required to build more weapons.
More weapons meant more machines that meant more fuel that meant more weapons that meant more machines.. and er.. one gets the point.
And now, man is happy how convenient his life has become.
Monday 8 January 2007
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)