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? :-)
Tuesday, 31 July 2007
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
Monday, 30 October 2006
Sunday, 23 July 2006
Wednesday, 28 June 2006
Naiharva
Yup - this song is creating ripples through the country through the bewitching voice of Kailash Kher in his new album, Kailasa. Not many however do understand the lyrics. Neither did I until I really paid attention to them and until I heavily used the services of Sergey's and Larry's enterprise.
If one thought the song was beautiful, the lyrics are divine, and I mean it in the true sense. Originally expressed by Kabir, the words come out with all the knowledge and wisdom of the world that one has come to associate Kabir with. Here is the reproduction of lyrics and meanings (literal and interpreted) of this beautiful song - Naiharva. Some more pearls can be obtained HERE .
Naiharva Hum Ka Na Bhave
Sai Ki Nagri Param Ati Sundar,
Jahan Koi Jav Na Avey
Chand Suraj Jahan, Pavan Na Pani,
Ko Sundesh Pahunchave
Dard Yeh Sai Ko Sunave
Agey Chalo Panth Nahin Sujhe,
Peeche Dosh Lagawe
Kehi Bidhi Sasure Jau Mori Sajani,
Virha Jor Jarawe
Vishai Ras Nach Nachawe
Bin Satguru Apno Nahin Koi,
Jo Yeh Rah Batawe
Kahat Kabira Suno Bhai Sadho,
Supne Na Peetam Awey
Tapan Yeh Jiya Ki Bujhawey
Meanings of selected words -
Naiharva - Wife's house (or, Mayka in Hindi)
Sai - Beloved (or, Husband)
Panth - Way
Bidhi - Method, scheme, way.
Virha - Separation
Satguru - Holy Teacher
Tapan - Fire
Jiya - Heart
Literal Translation
I Don’t Find any Interest in My Parent’s House
My Beloved’s Town is Most Beautiful
However, Nobody Goes or Comes from There
There is no Moon, Sun, Wind or Water There
Then Who Will Take My Message There?
Then Who Will Tell My Pain to My Beloved?
There is No Visible Path to Move Forward
And You Blame the Past for It
How Should the Bride go to the House of the Beloved?
Powerful Pangs of Separation are Burning from Inside
Dual Reality is Fashioning a Dance to Its Tune
There is None Other Than the Guru Who is Mine Who Can Tell the Way
Says Kabir Listen oh Aspirant
Your Beloved Will Come in a Dream-like State
That Alone Will Quench the Thirst of your Heart
Philosophical Interpretation
n this song Kabir portrays himself like a bride who has gone to her parents house. But having gone there her soul burns from the pangs of separation from her beloved. The bride’s trouble is further complicated because there are no messengers (such as the Sun, Moon, Wind or Water) who can reach and convey her message to the beloved. She has no path or way to solve this problem. Meanwhile the separation is killing her from inside.
Kabir, in his mystical way, is comparing the separation of the individual from the universal self like that of a bride from her beloved. He explains that this insatiable thirst comes from the feeling of separation whose root lies in duality.
He then explains that the only person who can help out of this problem is the Guru. In his final parting signature note, Kabir reveals that the way to reach the beloved is not outside but Inside (similar to a dream-like state) which alone will satisfy the seemingly unending burning thirst.
If one thought the song was beautiful, the lyrics are divine, and I mean it in the true sense. Originally expressed by Kabir, the words come out with all the knowledge and wisdom of the world that one has come to associate Kabir with. Here is the reproduction of lyrics and meanings (literal and interpreted) of this beautiful song - Naiharva. Some more pearls can be obtained HERE .
Naiharva Hum Ka Na Bhave
Sai Ki Nagri Param Ati Sundar,
Jahan Koi Jav Na Avey
Chand Suraj Jahan, Pavan Na Pani,
Ko Sundesh Pahunchave
Dard Yeh Sai Ko Sunave
Agey Chalo Panth Nahin Sujhe,
Peeche Dosh Lagawe
Kehi Bidhi Sasure Jau Mori Sajani,
Virha Jor Jarawe
Vishai Ras Nach Nachawe
Bin Satguru Apno Nahin Koi,
Jo Yeh Rah Batawe
Kahat Kabira Suno Bhai Sadho,
Supne Na Peetam Awey
Tapan Yeh Jiya Ki Bujhawey
Meanings of selected words -
Naiharva - Wife's house (or, Mayka in Hindi)
Sai - Beloved (or, Husband)
Panth - Way
Bidhi - Method, scheme, way.
Virha - Separation
Satguru - Holy Teacher
Tapan - Fire
Jiya - Heart
Literal Translation
I Don’t Find any Interest in My Parent’s House
My Beloved’s Town is Most Beautiful
However, Nobody Goes or Comes from There
There is no Moon, Sun, Wind or Water There
Then Who Will Take My Message There?
Then Who Will Tell My Pain to My Beloved?
There is No Visible Path to Move Forward
And You Blame the Past for It
How Should the Bride go to the House of the Beloved?
Powerful Pangs of Separation are Burning from Inside
Dual Reality is Fashioning a Dance to Its Tune
There is None Other Than the Guru Who is Mine Who Can Tell the Way
Says Kabir Listen oh Aspirant
Your Beloved Will Come in a Dream-like State
That Alone Will Quench the Thirst of your Heart
Philosophical Interpretation
n this song Kabir portrays himself like a bride who has gone to her parents house. But having gone there her soul burns from the pangs of separation from her beloved. The bride’s trouble is further complicated because there are no messengers (such as the Sun, Moon, Wind or Water) who can reach and convey her message to the beloved. She has no path or way to solve this problem. Meanwhile the separation is killing her from inside.
Kabir, in his mystical way, is comparing the separation of the individual from the universal self like that of a bride from her beloved. He explains that this insatiable thirst comes from the feeling of separation whose root lies in duality.
He then explains that the only person who can help out of this problem is the Guru. In his final parting signature note, Kabir reveals that the way to reach the beloved is not outside but Inside (similar to a dream-like state) which alone will satisfy the seemingly unending burning thirst.
Tuesday, 23 May 2006
Monday, 22 May 2006
A tough decision
This piece of news may not be known to most of you (I am assuming there are at least 5 readers of this blog besides me) - I have got a call for admission from IIM Lucknow for PGP starting this June. I have to send them a reply by the 26th of May. I have decided NOT TO GO. Unfortunately, the story does not end here. I am in such a pitiable state of confusion that I am zero confident of this decision. It has apparently not made my parents very happy and has left some of relatives baffled and I don't have any concrete reasons for the same.
So, here is my request to all my friends who care about me a bit - please give me convincing reasons one way or the other on why I should or should not go for this course. I have only today to make the decision. Tomorrow is the last day on which I could send a draft in case I am convinced to take up the course. I hope you guys will come out and help me.
So, here is my request to all my friends who care about me a bit - please give me convincing reasons one way or the other on why I should or should not go for this course. I have only today to make the decision. Tomorrow is the last day on which I could send a draft in case I am convinced to take up the course. I hope you guys will come out and help me.
Friday, 21 April 2006
Ah! Who can forget this?
"E lo kar lo baat. Are babuji aisi english ave that I can leave angrej behind. You see sir, I can talk english, I can walk english I can laugh english because english is a phunny language. Bhairon become baron and baron become Bhairon because their minds are very narrow. In the year 19 hundred and 29 sir, when India was playing against Australia in Melbourne city, Vijay Merchant and Vijay Hazare they were at the crease and Vijay Merchant told Vijay Hazare, look Vijay Hazare, this is a very prestigious match and you must consider this match very carefully. So considering the consideration that Vijay Hazare gave Vijay Merchant, Vijay Merchant told Vijay Hazare that ultimately we must take a run and when they were striking the ball on the left side sir, the consideration became into an ultimatum and ultimately Vijay Hazare went to Vijay Merchant and said...
- (Ranjit says) oh shut up -
Similarly Sir, In the year 19 hundred and 79 when India was playing against Pakistan in Wankhade stadium Bombay, Wasim Raja and Wasim Bari they were at the crease and Wasim Bari gave the same consideration to Wasim Raja and Wasim Raja told Wasim Bari look sir, this ultimately has to end in a consideration which I cannot consider. Therefore, the consideration that you are giving me must be considered very ultimately. Therefore, the run they were taking, Wasim Raja told Wasim Bari, Wasim Bari you take a run and ultimately both of them ran and considerately they got out."
- (Ranjit says) oh shut up -
Similarly Sir, In the year 19 hundred and 79 when India was playing against Pakistan in Wankhade stadium Bombay, Wasim Raja and Wasim Bari they were at the crease and Wasim Bari gave the same consideration to Wasim Raja and Wasim Raja told Wasim Bari look sir, this ultimately has to end in a consideration which I cannot consider. Therefore, the consideration that you are giving me must be considered very ultimately. Therefore, the run they were taking, Wasim Raja told Wasim Bari, Wasim Bari you take a run and ultimately both of them ran and considerately they got out."
Thursday, 20 April 2006
Monday, 17 April 2006
Proud and Loud declaration, a strong reprimand, an unexpected
rejection, and a tame denial.
All along in this drama, one thing became clearer - politicians are
not interested in the welfare of the society; to them the single most
important thing is the votes that would keep them in power.
Arjun Singh, notorious that he has been, once again played the crudest
form of a political gimmick that has eaten into the social fabric of
our country and in an attempt to be the messiah of the underprivileged
pushed the country further into a future of social disharmony and
intellectual incapacity.
With all due respect to Dr. Ambedkar who himself realized the
long-term implications of the reservation system, I do feel sad to
note that he inadvertently set a vicious cycle into motion that is not
only becoming difficult to end but also in the manner of a snowball
increasingly growing into being a major cause of social conflicts in
the country.
I have often mused over possible solutions to the very problem that
the policy of reservations seeks to address, that is, the problems of
inequality of social opportunities and an end to discrimination. None of
the solutions that seemed most intuitive to me indicated that the best
solution to tackle a form of discrimination is to reverse its
direction.
Creating awareness about the problem is one step, but utilising it to
cause further divide in the minds of the general populace is criminal.
If indulging in activity that harms the integrity and unity of our
country is a crime, then it is my firm belief that the propagators of
the reservation policy must be put behind bars and, in ideal cases,
hanged to death.
I as a citizen of this country strongly believe against
discrimination. I believe that all of us must be given equal social
opportunities in life and career. If there is one among us who is
unable to gain access to the opportunities due to constraints of money
or education or social stigma, then we must address the issues so that
the constraints are eliminated but the equality of opportunities is
not disturbed.
If a government is not able to address these issues and instead
indulges in encouraging the flames of discrimination among its own
countrymen, then such a government must not exist.
You can visit the following sites
http://iitiimres.blogspot.com
http://www.petitiononline.com/No_Quota/petition.html
rejection, and a tame denial.
All along in this drama, one thing became clearer - politicians are
not interested in the welfare of the society; to them the single most
important thing is the votes that would keep them in power.
Arjun Singh, notorious that he has been, once again played the crudest
form of a political gimmick that has eaten into the social fabric of
our country and in an attempt to be the messiah of the underprivileged
pushed the country further into a future of social disharmony and
intellectual incapacity.
With all due respect to Dr. Ambedkar who himself realized the
long-term implications of the reservation system, I do feel sad to
note that he inadvertently set a vicious cycle into motion that is not
only becoming difficult to end but also in the manner of a snowball
increasingly growing into being a major cause of social conflicts in
the country.
I have often mused over possible solutions to the very problem that
the policy of reservations seeks to address, that is, the problems of
inequality of social opportunities and an end to discrimination. None of
the solutions that seemed most intuitive to me indicated that the best
solution to tackle a form of discrimination is to reverse its
direction.
Creating awareness about the problem is one step, but utilising it to
cause further divide in the minds of the general populace is criminal.
If indulging in activity that harms the integrity and unity of our
country is a crime, then it is my firm belief that the propagators of
the reservation policy must be put behind bars and, in ideal cases,
hanged to death.
I as a citizen of this country strongly believe against
discrimination. I believe that all of us must be given equal social
opportunities in life and career. If there is one among us who is
unable to gain access to the opportunities due to constraints of money
or education or social stigma, then we must address the issues so that
the constraints are eliminated but the equality of opportunities is
not disturbed.
If a government is not able to address these issues and instead
indulges in encouraging the flames of discrimination among its own
countrymen, then such a government must not exist.
You can visit the following sites
http://iitiimres.blogspot.com
http://www.petitiononline.com/No_Quota/petition.html
Monday, 6 March 2006
To Hell
is all we would go towards.
Heard in a hindi-dubbed version of Vertical Limit -
"Jews kehte hain ki Jesus ko maanoge to nark mein jaaoge.
Isaaii kehte hain ki Jesus ko nahi maanoge to nark mein jaaoge.
Catholic kehte hain ki Pope ko nahi maanoge to nark mein jaaoge.
Matlab, kuch bhi ho, mujhe to nark mein hi jaana hai."
Well, the writer could included some more of world's religions. Alas,
he/she chose only two/three.
Isn't it strange that one who - saves our lives while we are hanging
precariously over a cliff, lends us a helping hand in our
times of extreme needs, lives a life of kindness and compassion
towards all - WILL go to HELL only because he doesn't happen to belong to
the faith we deem as right?
Sounds ridiculous, right? Yet, why is it so goddamm difficult for people
to understand? Why?
I am really really really upset today.
Heard in a hindi-dubbed version of Vertical Limit -
"Jews kehte hain ki Jesus ko maanoge to nark mein jaaoge.
Isaaii kehte hain ki Jesus ko nahi maanoge to nark mein jaaoge.
Catholic kehte hain ki Pope ko nahi maanoge to nark mein jaaoge.
Matlab, kuch bhi ho, mujhe to nark mein hi jaana hai."
Well, the writer could included some more of world's religions. Alas,
he/she chose only two/three.
Isn't it strange that one who - saves our lives while we are hanging
precariously over a cliff, lends us a helping hand in our
times of extreme needs, lives a life of kindness and compassion
towards all - WILL go to HELL only because he doesn't happen to belong to
the faith we deem as right?
Sounds ridiculous, right? Yet, why is it so goddamm difficult for people
to understand? Why?
I am really really really upset today.
Kitna Badal Gaya Insaan.
It is funny how easily 'tolerance' is mistaken to be 'submission' to other's ideas. Indeed tolerance is defined by one's characteristic dislike of others which is marked by an overwhelming feeling of compassion that suppresses and to a great extent controls one's dislike from taking precedence over one's thoughts.
Yet, to us, it must always be clear that tolerance of our actions and thoughts does not indicate our acceptance and certainly not appreciation. It therefore becomes important for us to ensure that our actions and views remain right where they exist - on the boundary between others' compassion and dislike.
Obviously, it will be extremely difficult for us to cross over to others' territory of compassion entirely because that would entail shedding our beliefs and accepting theirs, but we should not take the tolerance of others for granted and try to push back their boundaries of dislike further, for that would result in fierce retaliation and redefinition of the boundaries more in favour of the feeling of dislike and, in extreme cases, obliteration of the other.
ps: Goa witnesses its first communal riot.
pps:
duusro.n ka dukhadaa duur karne waale'
tere dukh door karenge Ram!
kiye' jaa tu jag mei.n bhalaaii kaa kaam
tere dukh door karenge Ram!
Simple, enchanting, honest philosophy. I wish everyone followed this.
Yet, to us, it must always be clear that tolerance of our actions and thoughts does not indicate our acceptance and certainly not appreciation. It therefore becomes important for us to ensure that our actions and views remain right where they exist - on the boundary between others' compassion and dislike.
Obviously, it will be extremely difficult for us to cross over to others' territory of compassion entirely because that would entail shedding our beliefs and accepting theirs, but we should not take the tolerance of others for granted and try to push back their boundaries of dislike further, for that would result in fierce retaliation and redefinition of the boundaries more in favour of the feeling of dislike and, in extreme cases, obliteration of the other.
ps: Goa witnesses its first communal riot.
pps:
duusro.n ka dukhadaa duur karne waale'
tere dukh door karenge Ram!
kiye' jaa tu jag mei.n bhalaaii kaa kaam
tere dukh door karenge Ram!
Simple, enchanting, honest philosophy. I wish everyone followed this.
Thursday, 2 March 2006
Douglas Adams
Something inside me compelled me to dedicate at least one blog entry to the second greatest humourist I have encountered in my literary expeditions. (The first one is PG Wodehouse to who I will probably dedicate an entire blog someday. But that, I guess, is already done by many).
I cannot even in my entire linguistic capabilities elaborate on the kind of humour that Douglas Adams deals with.
Go read "The Ultimate Hitchhikers' Guide to the Galaxy" if you haven't already. :-)
p.s. - "All it takes to fly is to hurl yourself at the ground... and miss."
I cannot even in my entire linguistic capabilities elaborate on the kind of humour that Douglas Adams deals with.
Go read "The Ultimate Hitchhikers' Guide to the Galaxy" if you haven't already. :-)
p.s. - "All it takes to fly is to hurl yourself at the ground... and miss."
Friday, 24 February 2006
:-)
From the internet when I was trying to gather some Perls of wisdom.
http://www.comp.leeds.ac.uk/Perl/Misc/electricity.txt
It was originally posted by David O'Brien in in Leed's University's CS Dept's local news system. (at least, that's what I gathered from the page that had this link!)
ps: In case there are non-computer geeks reading this, that misspelling of 'Perl' was deliberate. :-)
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Here is a dissertation on physical science for your enlightenment.
I don't know where it came from so it must be true!
[ Update: This appears to have come from Dave Barry, and the same text
can be found as:
http://www.uk.research.att.com/~fms/electricity.html
http://rachel.albany.edu/~jc9334/barry1.html
and many other places on the web. I'd check with Dave, but he
doesn't respond to email any more (and life's too short for snail
mail) ]
.....................................................................
Today's scientific question is: What in the world is electricity and
where does it go after it leaves the toaster?
Here is a simple experiment that will teach you an important
electrical lesson: On a cool dry day, scuff your feet along a carpet,
then reach your hand into a friend's mouth and touch one of his dental
fillings. Did you notice how your friend twitched violently and cried
out in pain? This teaches one that electricity can be a very powerful
force, but we must never use it to hurt others unless we need to learn
an important lesson about electricity.
It also illustrates how an electrical circuit works. When you scuffed
your feet, you picked up batches of "electrons", which are very small
objects that carpet manufacturers weave into carpet so that they will
attract dirt. The electrons travel through your bloodstream and
collect in your finger, where they form a spark that leaps to your
friend's filling, then travel down to his feet and back into the
carpet, thus completing the circuit.
AMAZING ELECTRONIC FACT: If you scuffed your feet long enough without
touching anything, you would build up so many electrons that your
finger would explode! But this is nothing to worry about unless you
have carpeting.
Although we modern persons tend to take our electric lights, radios,
mixers, etc. for granted, hundreds of years ago people did not have
any of these things, which is just as well because there was no place
to plug them in. Then along came the first Electrical Pioneer,
Benjamin Franklin, who flew a kite in a lightning storm and received a
serious electrical shock. This proved that lightning was powered by
the same force as carpets, but it also damaged Franklin's brain so
severely that he started speaking only in incomprehensible maxims,
such as, "A penny saved is a penny earned." Eventually he had to be
given a job running the post office.
After Franklin came a herd of Electrical Pioneers whose names have
become part of our electrical terminology: Myron Volt, Mary Louise
Amp, James Watt, Bob Transformer, etc. These pioneers conducted many
important electrical experiments. Among them, Galvani discovered
(this is the truth) that when he attached two different kinds of metal
to the leg of a frog, an electrical current developed and the frog's
leg kicked, even though it was no longer attached to the frog, which
was dead anyway. Galvani's discovery led to enormous advances in the
field of amphibian medicine. Today, skilled veterinary surgeons can
take a frog that has been seriously injured or killed, implant pieces
of metal in its muscles, and watch it hop back into the pond --
almost.
But the greatest Electrical Pioneer of them all was Thomas Edison, who
was a brilliant inventor despite the fact that he had little formal
education and lived in New Jersey. Edison's first major invention in
1877 was the phonograph, which could soon be found in thousands of
American homes, where it basically sat until 1923, when the record was
invented. But Edison's greatest achievement came in 1879 when he
invented the electric company. Edison's design was a brilliant
adaptation of the simple electrical circuit: the electric company
sends electricity through a wire to a customer, then immediately gets
the electricity back through another wire, then (this is the brilliant
part) sends it right back to the customer again.
This means that an electric company can sell a customer the same batch
of electricity thousands of times a day and never get caught, since
very few customers take the time to examine their electricity closely.
In fact, the last year any new electricity was generated was 1937.
Today, thanks to men like Edison and Franklin, and frogs like
Galvani's, we receive almost unlimited benefits from electricity. For
example, in the past decade scientists have developed the laser, an
electronic appliance so powerful that it can vaporize a bulldozer 2000
yards away, yet so precise that doctors can use it to perform delicate
operations to the human eyeball, provided they remember to change the
power setting from "Bulldozer" to "Eyeball."
http://www.comp.leeds.ac.uk/Perl/Misc/electricity.txt
It was originally posted by David O'Brien in in Leed's University's CS Dept's local news system. (at least, that's what I gathered from the page that had this link!)
ps: In case there are non-computer geeks reading this, that misspelling of 'Perl' was deliberate. :-)
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Here is a dissertation on physical science for your enlightenment.
I don't know where it came from so it must be true!
[ Update: This appears to have come from Dave Barry, and the same text
can be found as:
http://www.uk.research.att.com/~fms/electricity.html
http://rachel.albany.edu/~jc9334/barry1.html
and many other places on the web. I'd check with Dave, but he
doesn't respond to email any more (and life's too short for snail
mail) ]
.....................................................................
Today's scientific question is: What in the world is electricity and
where does it go after it leaves the toaster?
Here is a simple experiment that will teach you an important
electrical lesson: On a cool dry day, scuff your feet along a carpet,
then reach your hand into a friend's mouth and touch one of his dental
fillings. Did you notice how your friend twitched violently and cried
out in pain? This teaches one that electricity can be a very powerful
force, but we must never use it to hurt others unless we need to learn
an important lesson about electricity.
It also illustrates how an electrical circuit works. When you scuffed
your feet, you picked up batches of "electrons", which are very small
objects that carpet manufacturers weave into carpet so that they will
attract dirt. The electrons travel through your bloodstream and
collect in your finger, where they form a spark that leaps to your
friend's filling, then travel down to his feet and back into the
carpet, thus completing the circuit.
AMAZING ELECTRONIC FACT: If you scuffed your feet long enough without
touching anything, you would build up so many electrons that your
finger would explode! But this is nothing to worry about unless you
have carpeting.
Although we modern persons tend to take our electric lights, radios,
mixers, etc. for granted, hundreds of years ago people did not have
any of these things, which is just as well because there was no place
to plug them in. Then along came the first Electrical Pioneer,
Benjamin Franklin, who flew a kite in a lightning storm and received a
serious electrical shock. This proved that lightning was powered by
the same force as carpets, but it also damaged Franklin's brain so
severely that he started speaking only in incomprehensible maxims,
such as, "A penny saved is a penny earned." Eventually he had to be
given a job running the post office.
After Franklin came a herd of Electrical Pioneers whose names have
become part of our electrical terminology: Myron Volt, Mary Louise
Amp, James Watt, Bob Transformer, etc. These pioneers conducted many
important electrical experiments. Among them, Galvani discovered
(this is the truth) that when he attached two different kinds of metal
to the leg of a frog, an electrical current developed and the frog's
leg kicked, even though it was no longer attached to the frog, which
was dead anyway. Galvani's discovery led to enormous advances in the
field of amphibian medicine. Today, skilled veterinary surgeons can
take a frog that has been seriously injured or killed, implant pieces
of metal in its muscles, and watch it hop back into the pond --
almost.
But the greatest Electrical Pioneer of them all was Thomas Edison, who
was a brilliant inventor despite the fact that he had little formal
education and lived in New Jersey. Edison's first major invention in
1877 was the phonograph, which could soon be found in thousands of
American homes, where it basically sat until 1923, when the record was
invented. But Edison's greatest achievement came in 1879 when he
invented the electric company. Edison's design was a brilliant
adaptation of the simple electrical circuit: the electric company
sends electricity through a wire to a customer, then immediately gets
the electricity back through another wire, then (this is the brilliant
part) sends it right back to the customer again.
This means that an electric company can sell a customer the same batch
of electricity thousands of times a day and never get caught, since
very few customers take the time to examine their electricity closely.
In fact, the last year any new electricity was generated was 1937.
Today, thanks to men like Edison and Franklin, and frogs like
Galvani's, we receive almost unlimited benefits from electricity. For
example, in the past decade scientists have developed the laser, an
electronic appliance so powerful that it can vaporize a bulldozer 2000
yards away, yet so precise that doctors can use it to perform delicate
operations to the human eyeball, provided they remember to change the
power setting from "Bulldozer" to "Eyeball."
Thursday, 9 February 2006
Weak example.
That is how I found Rang De Basanti! The concept to somehow merge two events in different times as one may be the first of its kind, but a good deed done in vain is worse than a bad deed.
WARNING: The plot is partly revealed below
There are a few things that did not convince me in the movie:
1. The reason - Yes, death of a loved one is very painful, but that leading them to justify killing of another man was not entirely convincing. In this respect, it was like any other Hindi movie of late 80s and early 90s when the HERO only needed a reason to take up and machine gun and go tat-tat-tat-tatting into the Villain's lair.
2. The method - Killing! Taking life of another person is a very extreme step; one that is taken as a last resort. The characters, and indeed the character of Flt Lt. Rathore whose death caused them to resort to the extreme step, exhort the youth to take up positions in IAS, IPS, politics to fight the system. Yet, they seem to conveniently forget this and take the easy way out.
3. The comparison - Likening a few disillusioned young boys to great freedom fighters like Bhagat Singh and co. was a little hard to swallow. They had a dream, had a passion, had a spirit which was solely channelled towards the freedom of their motherland and not to settle petty scores with individuals. The film ended up glorifying and equating disillusioned killing to patriotism and might influence the young to think that going about knocking out people/politicians/leaders/administrators who, I emphasize, 'they think are evil' is the right way to fight the system. The very idea is frightening!
All in all, it was way below mark when compared to movies like Swades and Yuva that had a very positive and constructive message to convey and were equally inspirational. I had goose-bumps for the entire duration while watching Yuva. Such was the impact of the movie.
In RDB, the only moments when I felt a surge of adrenaline was when Atul Kulkarni sang 'Sarfaroshi ki Tamanna' and when 'Jallianwala Bagh Massacre' was depicted.
WARNING: The plot is partly revealed below
There are a few things that did not convince me in the movie:
1. The reason - Yes, death of a loved one is very painful, but that leading them to justify killing of another man was not entirely convincing. In this respect, it was like any other Hindi movie of late 80s and early 90s when the HERO only needed a reason to take up and machine gun and go tat-tat-tat-tatting into the Villain's lair.
2. The method - Killing! Taking life of another person is a very extreme step; one that is taken as a last resort. The characters, and indeed the character of Flt Lt. Rathore whose death caused them to resort to the extreme step, exhort the youth to take up positions in IAS, IPS, politics to fight the system. Yet, they seem to conveniently forget this and take the easy way out.
3. The comparison - Likening a few disillusioned young boys to great freedom fighters like Bhagat Singh and co. was a little hard to swallow. They had a dream, had a passion, had a spirit which was solely channelled towards the freedom of their motherland and not to settle petty scores with individuals. The film ended up glorifying and equating disillusioned killing to patriotism and might influence the young to think that going about knocking out people/politicians/leaders/administrators who, I emphasize, 'they think are evil' is the right way to fight the system. The very idea is frightening!
All in all, it was way below mark when compared to movies like Swades and Yuva that had a very positive and constructive message to convey and were equally inspirational. I had goose-bumps for the entire duration while watching Yuva. Such was the impact of the movie.
In RDB, the only moments when I felt a surge of adrenaline was when Atul Kulkarni sang 'Sarfaroshi ki Tamanna' and when 'Jallianwala Bagh Massacre' was depicted.
Saturday, 4 February 2006
Auspicious day coming
Feb 2, Vasant Panchami, is one of the most auspicious days in Hindu Calendar. It is so auspicious that a boy and a girl can get married on this day without any need to look for a muhurtham (an auspicious time). This is a day when there is no need to match Kundalis, Gotrams etc. Just the boy and the girl are enough to complete the marriage requirements.
Why am I publicising this information here? Well, one never knows how important such information may turn out to be for some people! :-)
Why am I publicising this information here? Well, one never knows how important such information may turn out to be for some people! :-)
Tuesday, 31 January 2006
Caste-ing doubts.
My recent trip to Rajasthan made me realize one thing - Caste is a fact that is so well entrenched in the minds of people that a person's introduction is incomplete without it having been mentioned. It is not just limited to a section of people but almost anyone who you get acquainted with pops this question to you with nonchalance that can unsettle anyone who is not comfortable with the idea of carrying that aspect of one's identity on one's sleeve. In my life, I have never had to answer the caste-question as many times as I did in my three day stay in Rajasthan.
The reason I am mentioning this is not malign the people of Rajasthan or their culture. By far, they have been the most hospitable people among all the places I have been to in my little life. I am mentioning this because despite belonging to a caste traditionally considered to be privileged I never had my caste identity in my consciousness until I reached IIT Bombay for my M.Tech. Throughout my childhood, either at home or in school, this equation was never brought into active thought or conversation except in some vague chapters of history books. Yet, to find children as young as five year olds who would have barely started uttering their first words coming and asking me my caste bewildered me.
Caste, I thought till not so long ago, plays a more secondary role in the Southern India gaining significance only in finding matches in arranged marriages. But after a house-hunting experience in Bangalore, I became wiser. "Sir, are you a veggie?" was a question that was hurled at me at regular intervals which I innocently answered everytime in affirmative. It was only after the twenty-fifth time in two days that I realized that "being a veggie" was a mild allusion to "being a brahmana". And I said to myself, "There you go again!"
Let alone we Hindus, I was amused and surprised to notice that Catholics in Goa follow the same Caste equations as Hindus and do not marry outside their castes! In fact, one of our ex-landlords had lent us our house only because we were "Brahmanas" and he was what he claimed to be a "Roman-Catholic-Brahmana". One only needs to look at the matrimonial columns of any local Goan newspaper to understand what I said.
All this has made me realize one thing - Caste is not something that can be done away with in our society. In fact, having castes is not a bad thing per se. It is the discrimination that must be checked. No society will ever be rid of castes/classes. In some it is "Brahmana-Kshatriya" equation, in some it follows "Believers/non-believers", in some it follows "comrade/non-comrade", whereas in some it might follow "white/non-white" pattern. There will be different types of people in a group and it is natural for them to form a clique. It is natural human tendency.
In short, Caste is here to stay. I just have to learn to live with the fact that people other than me will be interested in knowing this aspect of my identity.
The reason I am mentioning this is not malign the people of Rajasthan or their culture. By far, they have been the most hospitable people among all the places I have been to in my little life. I am mentioning this because despite belonging to a caste traditionally considered to be privileged I never had my caste identity in my consciousness until I reached IIT Bombay for my M.Tech. Throughout my childhood, either at home or in school, this equation was never brought into active thought or conversation except in some vague chapters of history books. Yet, to find children as young as five year olds who would have barely started uttering their first words coming and asking me my caste bewildered me.
Caste, I thought till not so long ago, plays a more secondary role in the Southern India gaining significance only in finding matches in arranged marriages. But after a house-hunting experience in Bangalore, I became wiser. "Sir, are you a veggie?" was a question that was hurled at me at regular intervals which I innocently answered everytime in affirmative. It was only after the twenty-fifth time in two days that I realized that "being a veggie" was a mild allusion to "being a brahmana". And I said to myself, "There you go again!"
Let alone we Hindus, I was amused and surprised to notice that Catholics in Goa follow the same Caste equations as Hindus and do not marry outside their castes! In fact, one of our ex-landlords had lent us our house only because we were "Brahmanas" and he was what he claimed to be a "Roman-Catholic-Brahmana". One only needs to look at the matrimonial columns of any local Goan newspaper to understand what I said.
All this has made me realize one thing - Caste is not something that can be done away with in our society. In fact, having castes is not a bad thing per se. It is the discrimination that must be checked. No society will ever be rid of castes/classes. In some it is "Brahmana-Kshatriya" equation, in some it follows "Believers/non-believers", in some it follows "comrade/non-comrade", whereas in some it might follow "white/non-white" pattern. There will be different types of people in a group and it is natural for them to form a clique. It is natural human tendency.
In short, Caste is here to stay. I just have to learn to live with the fact that people other than me will be interested in knowing this aspect of my identity.
Thursday, 12 January 2006
Blog profiles
Its been a while since I was introduced to the blog world and in the same while I have also witnessed many of my friends getting initiated into blogging. It is in this 'while' that I have noticed certain patterns emerging in various blogs and it would be interesting to note if my observations are indeed accurate.
Aldrin - A blog for poets, lovers, romantics, artists, losers, Devdas', etc. Definitely not for sane people. One of my favourites.
Ashutosh - If all the comedians of this world were cursed to transform into a blog, they would have probably found themselves embellished in this blog. From crass to sophisiticated, to outright tear-my-hair-out kind, this blog is a sure remedy for someone feeling under the weather.
Rupesh - A site for geeks who seek truth of life not just in formulae but also in children, family, weather, I, you, me and practically everything conceivable. It is a reflection of a balanced mind that is neither influenced by inebriance of emotions nor ebullience of laughter.
Zoheb - There is something about this blog that makes people want to visit it often inspite of it lying unused for long durations of time. It could probably be attributed to the candidness of the content devoid of hypocrisy that makes it so pleasing to read.
Shyam - This is a secret blog never to be updated and never to be found out by anyone unless some idiot like me deliberately publicises it. Blurty Management is still hoping (in vain, I am sure) that the 10 Mega bytes of space that they have isolated for this user would one day be put to use. We too are waiting.
Billu - Well, there are some like Shyam who create blogs to create them, and there are some who create blogs to announce to the world that they have created one. Billu dear falls in the latter category. A blog was created for him (by someone else) on which he cared to post a couple of entries to inform the world that he knew how to blog. I am guessing that the next post on that blog will be the one announcing his marriage to his beloved.
Well, that's it. Maybe, someone will carry out more profiles of their friends' blogs for us to visit them and know more about them.
Aldrin - A blog for poets, lovers, romantics, artists, losers, Devdas', etc. Definitely not for sane people. One of my favourites.
Ashutosh - If all the comedians of this world were cursed to transform into a blog, they would have probably found themselves embellished in this blog. From crass to sophisiticated, to outright tear-my-hair-out kind, this blog is a sure remedy for someone feeling under the weather.
Rupesh - A site for geeks who seek truth of life not just in formulae but also in children, family, weather, I, you, me and practically everything conceivable. It is a reflection of a balanced mind that is neither influenced by inebriance of emotions nor ebullience of laughter.
Zoheb - There is something about this blog that makes people want to visit it often inspite of it lying unused for long durations of time. It could probably be attributed to the candidness of the content devoid of hypocrisy that makes it so pleasing to read.
Shyam - This is a secret blog never to be updated and never to be found out by anyone unless some idiot like me deliberately publicises it. Blurty Management is still hoping (in vain, I am sure) that the 10 Mega bytes of space that they have isolated for this user would one day be put to use. We too are waiting.
Billu - Well, there are some like Shyam who create blogs to create them, and there are some who create blogs to announce to the world that they have created one. Billu dear falls in the latter category. A blog was created for him (by someone else) on which he cared to post a couple of entries to inform the world that he knew how to blog. I am guessing that the next post on that blog will be the one announcing his marriage to his beloved.
Well, that's it. Maybe, someone will carry out more profiles of their friends' blogs for us to visit them and know more about them.
Friday, 6 January 2006
99.00
It is finally belled... don't ask me how. 'Tis a mystery to me too.
While ABC don't find me good enough, ILK do.
ps: the period of confustion ensues.
pps: please help
While ABC don't find me good enough, ILK do.
ps: the period of confustion ensues.
pps: please help
who has the answers?
1. Why does one who desperately wants something does not get it, but one who does not want it as much gets it anyway.
2. Why does the girl a guy falls in love with never loves him. If there is a girl who loves a guy, then why doesn't he find her attractive?
3. Why does a human being want to be remembered after his life?
4. Why are we afraid of darkness and death when they are as obvious as light and life?
5. How does a child learn to learn?
6. Is love an attribute cultivated or genetically encoded?
Any ideas?
2. Why does the girl a guy falls in love with never loves him. If there is a girl who loves a guy, then why doesn't he find her attractive?
3. Why does a human being want to be remembered after his life?
4. Why are we afraid of darkness and death when they are as obvious as light and life?
5. How does a child learn to learn?
6. Is love an attribute cultivated or genetically encoded?
Any ideas?
Thursday, 5 January 2006
Even geniuses need inspirations
From rediff - RD Burman's inspirations...
Tumse hai dil ko pyaar (Teesri Manzil): The Beatles' I wanna hold your hand
Mehbooba O mehbooba (Sholay): Demis Roussoss' Say you love me
O jabtak hai jaan (Sholay): Iranian singer Googoosh's The prelude of Jomeh
Tumse milke (Parinda): Leo Sayer's When I Need You
Milgaya hum ko sathi (Hum Kisise Kam Nahin): ABBA's Mamma Mia
Aao twist karein (Bhoot Bangla): Chubby Checker's Come lets twist
Sapna mera toot gaya (Khel Khel Mein) from Ennio Morricone's The story of a soldier (The Good, The Bad and The Ugly)
O Maria (Saagar): Opening line inspired by Paul McCartney and Wings' Mamunia
Aa dekhe zara (Rocky): Partly from Jeff Wayne's Eve of the war
Tumse hai dil ko pyaar (Teesri Manzil): The Beatles' I wanna hold your hand
Mehbooba O mehbooba (Sholay): Demis Roussoss' Say you love me
O jabtak hai jaan (Sholay): Iranian singer Googoosh's The prelude of Jomeh
Tumse milke (Parinda): Leo Sayer's When I Need You
Milgaya hum ko sathi (Hum Kisise Kam Nahin): ABBA's Mamma Mia
Aao twist karein (Bhoot Bangla): Chubby Checker's Come lets twist
Sapna mera toot gaya (Khel Khel Mein) from Ennio Morricone's The story of a soldier (The Good, The Bad and The Ugly)
O Maria (Saagar): Opening line inspired by Paul McCartney and Wings' Mamunia
Aa dekhe zara (Rocky): Partly from Jeff Wayne's Eve of the war
Tuesday, 27 December 2005
What animal are you?
Well, according to this link
Monkeys are intelligent and agile, well-adapted for jungle life as they swing happily from tree to tree. As a monkey, you are a social animal who eats a wide range of food, is quick to learn new things and loves to climb. A monkey's tiny primate features are irresistable, as is his gregarious personality!
I was almost a: Pony or a Squirrel
I was least like a: Turtle or a GroundhogDiscover What Cute Animal You Are!
I am A: Monkey!
Monkeys are intelligent and agile, well-adapted for jungle life as they swing happily from tree to tree. As a monkey, you are a social animal who eats a wide range of food, is quick to learn new things and loves to climb. A monkey's tiny primate features are irresistable, as is his gregarious personality!I was almost a: Pony or a Squirrel
I was least like a: Turtle or a GroundhogDiscover What Cute Animal You Are!
Tuesday, 22 November 2005
That feeling.. once more.
I know most of us have undergone this, and would experience it again and again. I am talking about home sickness. Those couple of days when you are with your parents and there is joy and laughter galore. You forget all the sadness (read office work) and spend the two days in total blissful happiness. But soon is the time for us or them to leave and as soon as we are away, there arises that feeling of emptyness, the loneliness, the sadness, the gloom, and you wish the happiness had persisted for some time. And then you find yourself sitting in front of the monitor with a mail from your project manager splashed across it exhorting you to work hard(er)...
Life sucks. I love home.
Life sucks. I love home.
Thursday, 17 November 2005
Home Delivery
After a long time, I have heard a *fun* song in Hindi.
Boman Irani's voice is amazing and so are the music and lyrics.
Kinda reminds you of Wild Wild West by Will Smith.
Makes me wanna go and watch the movie....
Here are the lyrics... Go have fun. :)
-----
delivery delivery .d d.d.d.
delivery delivery
aao suno ik taazaa kahaanee
baatein nayiin, na raajaa na raani
masti hai yaari hai, kuch bekaraari hai
thodi hasii hai, zaraa samajhdaari hai
khushiyaan hai gham bhi hai
tum bhi ho hum bhi hai
ye gaana hi nahi poora atom bam bhi hai
hello bolo kyaa chaahiye jo chaahiye mil jayega
bandaa khaanaa kyaa aapko ghar tak bhi pahuchaayegaa
hey...
hello bolo kyaa chaahiye jo chaahiye mil jaayegaa
bandaa khaanaa kyaa aapko ghar tak bhi pahuchaayegaa
home delivery d.d.d.d.d.d. delivery
home delivery d.d.d.d.d.d. delivery
pehle hamaaraa number le lo
do do teen teen char panch cheh saath aath nau
fir boliye, boliye
aapkaa order kyaa hai jii..
bas tees minute mein aapke ghar mein
yaa sab kuch freeeeeee
home delivery d.d.d.d.d.d. delivery
home delivery d.d.d.d.d.d. delivery
atak jaao tum kahin to
mujhe fauran bulaa lenaa
bhatak jaao raah se jo
to ye number ghumaa denaa
karnaa nahiiiiiiiiiiin koi fikar
mai aa gayaaaaaa tumko main pal mein kar dungaa...
home delivery d.d.d.d.d.d. delivery
home delivery d.d.d.d.d.d. delivery
-----
Boman Irani's voice is amazing and so are the music and lyrics.
Kinda reminds you of Wild Wild West by Will Smith.
Makes me wanna go and watch the movie....
Here are the lyrics... Go have fun. :)
-----
delivery delivery .d d.d.d.
delivery delivery
aao suno ik taazaa kahaanee
baatein nayiin, na raajaa na raani
masti hai yaari hai, kuch bekaraari hai
thodi hasii hai, zaraa samajhdaari hai
khushiyaan hai gham bhi hai
tum bhi ho hum bhi hai
ye gaana hi nahi poora atom bam bhi hai
hello bolo kyaa chaahiye jo chaahiye mil jayega
bandaa khaanaa kyaa aapko ghar tak bhi pahuchaayegaa
hey...
hello bolo kyaa chaahiye jo chaahiye mil jaayegaa
bandaa khaanaa kyaa aapko ghar tak bhi pahuchaayegaa
home delivery d.d.d.d.d.d. delivery
home delivery d.d.d.d.d.d. delivery
pehle hamaaraa number le lo
do do teen teen char panch cheh saath aath nau
fir boliye, boliye
aapkaa order kyaa hai jii..
bas tees minute mein aapke ghar mein
yaa sab kuch freeeeeee
home delivery d.d.d.d.d.d. delivery
home delivery d.d.d.d.d.d. delivery
atak jaao tum kahin to
mujhe fauran bulaa lenaa
bhatak jaao raah se jo
to ye number ghumaa denaa
karnaa nahiiiiiiiiiiin koi fikar
mai aa gayaaaaaa tumko main pal mein kar dungaa...
home delivery d.d.d.d.d.d. delivery
home delivery d.d.d.d.d.d. delivery
-----
Monday, 24 October 2005
A modern marvel - My first sixer.
Marvel comics is a company that owns the rights to our friendly neighbourhood Spiderman comics. Superheroes like him are a source of inspiration in this world of circumambient amorality. Saturday was when another pukka superhero came into being. Now, pardon me if this note appears to be a little discursive in nature, but one dare not kvetch over this petty issue, as the accounts of this new superhero are riveting indeed. For beginners, here is a ukase that every attentive reader must follow - Never doubt a great writer's words. The morning was a pleasant one and I awoke in the usual pleasant frame of mind, full of brio, and ready to take on the world over a game of Cricket. Soon enough I was out of my dishabille and looking my usual handsome self in an attire that would have made Mr. James Bond very proud had he been a cricketer. Now would be a good time for me to asseverate that ever since I have come out of academic life I have taken a keen interest in some activities that I till not so long ago eschewed in all earnest. Bathing and washing clothes are a couple of them. Some nefarious elements in the society have indulged in agitprops against me focussing on my alleged unhygienic lifestyle, but as any astute reader's perspicacity would tell him, it is all a figment of one's imagination. Therefore, as I was saying, I was all geared up to take on the world and soon enough I found myself as target of a bowler who threw a ball with much celerity and who for some incomprehensible reason had taken a fancy to my head. I do not remember if it was the overcast sky or the speed of the projectile but I felt myself go purblind every time the ball left the bowler's palm. Indeed there wasn't a part of my body that wasn't tested for its strength in the first half hour of play. Blow after blow was followed by a loud appeal, importunate and insistent, only to be turned down by the umpire who too probably had gone purblind. My resolute stand soon wore the bowler off into diffidence and the seeds of self-doubt took root in his mind. It soon manifested itself out in a delivery which reluctantly came out his hand and travelled in a trajectory overwhelmed by gravity towards the centre of the pitch. I braced myself for a counter attack and with a rapid swing of the bat assailed the ball with all my might. The ball ventured heavenwards as a lovelorn would venture towards his inamorata, eyes of spectators and players alike following it minutely, and after what one might assume to be a considerable amount of time, the force of gravity took charge and the ball perforce started hurtling down the skyline, the cavalcade of eyeballs still in pursuit, until it came to rest on hedge a couple of meters away from where the boundary lay. It took a while for everyone as if they had witnessed a legerdemain and were too steeped in disbelief to react before the umpire raised his arms and the crowd erupted in what seemed to me a mellifluous roar of appreciation. Now it would be unreasonable for a polymath like me to sing paeans of my own accomplishments, but it would not be far from truth if one were to say it was probably a shot worth going a thousand miles to watch, yes even for a faineant like Shyamshankar , it would have been worth the effort.
ps: It was also the first time I scored a half century.
ps: It was also the first time I scored a half century.
Friday, 30 September 2005
Irrelevant...
Now, I am not a voluble young man who likes to make an exhibition of my loquacity on topics that interest or annoy other lowly beings. Neither am I a taciturn uncommunicative bloke who considers the usage of verbal organs a perfunctory exercise to build and maintain acquaintances with the other samples of my species, talking of which reminds me that ants are probably the only species that can be considered to be omnipresent in the true sense - well, at least on land. They are everywhere, in the bathroom, in office, in my shoes, in my biscuit boxes, in kitchen sinks, and every other conceivable place one could think of. Not that I am complaining. They provide me a constant companionship everyday, day and night, in my forlorn existence. An existence of seriatim disappointments and anxieties further inflicted by the moral turpitude of autowallahs who charge double rates to take me home on any time of the day. These autowallahs must perenially be put on a strike. It helps the society if wickedness marries idleness. Both are moieties of Satanic descent. That day shall coruscate forever in my memory when Metro rail functions in full swing in this city. These functions are obviously different from the functions that I break my head on every day. A head which is full of vibrant creativity until I find myself in front of the monitor when the flow of thoughts reach a stasis. I must however hurry to establish the fact that I love my job before anyone raises his or her finger (hopefully, the one except the middle one) and brands me a bete noire. Raising a finger is an expression of communication in vogue since ancient times. Each finger representing a different state of mind - in the order from thumb to the li'l one - success, accusation, < censored >, showing off a ring, and emergencies of biological kinds. More varied emotions could be described with various combinations of these fingers. However, I am going shy away from describing them for want of time. No technology or innovations in communication could extirpate this perdurable communication marvel that are our fingers...
Wednesday, 21 September 2005
In public interest.
I got this mail today, so posting it here. I hope this helps people. Please do not fall for the crook who duped poor Abhaya and made him Abhaga.
-------------------------
Abhaya Agarwal wrote:
Hi all,
This is really embarrassing but also important. There is this who called me up under the name Shyam Sunder, claiming to be a passout of 1996 batch. He said he has been working in Sydney Australia and has come down to India to interview with some company in Chennai. His wallet has been picked up and he needs some help to get back to Bombay.
I was a little suspicious in the beginning so I asked for some identity proof. His ICICI account showed the name Shyam Sunder. On google, I found out that there indeed was a alumni named Shyam Sunder in 1996 batch. The page which showed his name didn't open (it timed out). So I fell for the bait and transferred money to the account. He promised to contact me back on reaching Bombay.
After I had made the transfer, I just out of curiosity again tried to load that page and lo ! Shyam Sunder from 1997 batch (MSc. Chem) actually died in 2002 from blood cancer !!. Details are on the 1996 webpage since he joined the institute along with them. Then I searched for that ICICI account number and found this:
http://m.1asphost.com/alumniuce/message.asp
This guy has been doing this for sometime now I guess. If only I would have searched for the account number first !! But please spread the info. Since he will definitely try to contact others also.
Is there some public place where this information can be posted so that it turns up quickly on google? I will put it up on my blog. Please do so on your blogs also. I am also going to file a complaint with ICICI Bank about the misusage of this account but I don't think much can be done on that front.
This whole episode has been quite disheartening !
Regards,
abhaga
-------------------------
-------------------------
Abhaya Agarwal wrote:
Hi all,
This is really embarrassing but also important. There is this who called me up under the name Shyam Sunder, claiming to be a passout of 1996 batch. He said he has been working in Sydney Australia and has come down to India to interview with some company in Chennai. His wallet has been picked up and he needs some help to get back to Bombay.
I was a little suspicious in the beginning so I asked for some identity proof. His ICICI account showed the name Shyam Sunder. On google, I found out that there indeed was a alumni named Shyam Sunder in 1996 batch. The page which showed his name didn't open (it timed out). So I fell for the bait and transferred money to the account. He promised to contact me back on reaching Bombay.
After I had made the transfer, I just out of curiosity again tried to load that page and lo ! Shyam Sunder from 1997 batch (MSc. Chem) actually died in 2002 from blood cancer !!. Details are on the 1996 webpage since he joined the institute along with them. Then I searched for that ICICI account number and found this:
http://m.1asphost.com/alumniuce/message.asp
This guy has been doing this for sometime now I guess. If only I would have searched for the account number first !! But please spread the info. Since he will definitely try to contact others also.
Is there some public place where this information can be posted so that it turns up quickly on google? I will put it up on my blog. Please do so on your blogs also. I am also going to file a complaint with ICICI Bank about the misusage of this account but I don't think much can be done on that front.
This whole episode has been quite disheartening !
Regards,
abhaga
-------------------------
Friday, 9 September 2005
Belling the CAT...
Finally, after much deliberation, I have decided to pursue all options that are open to me. CAT is one such option, and I have decided to go for it anyway. In the following days, I will try to write passages on my blog that will make no sense whatsoever to any sane mind, but would function as an exercise for me to put to use some new words that I will read in my course of preparation for the verbal ability. I do not know if that would help, but the blog was lying untouched, and so were the word-lists, and I could not think of a better way of combining them both towards a creative and useful purpose.
Monday, 25 July 2005
Update...
I am still seeking that elusive, mysterious, and seemingly unattainable thing called - love of a woman.
Waiting patiently.
Waiting patiently.
Friday, 22 July 2005
Thursday, 30 June 2005
Thursday, 9 June 2005
tagging along...
The don tagged me. So, here goes.
Number of books read: ~390 (maybe, more)
exclude comics: ~290
exclude school textbooks: ~190
exclude college textbooks: ~90
exclude childrens' classic: ~55
exclude boring books: ~53
exclude religious books: ~45
exclude technical papers: ~10
exclude other books: ~0
Last book I bought: Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events - book the fourth - The Miserable Mill.
Last book I read: Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events - book the fourth - The Miserable Mill.
Five books that I love:
1. The thorn birds
2. Harry Potter and the prisoner of Azkaban.
3. Mahabharata
4. Da Vinci Code
5. And then there were none.
and, as my audience is limited, i will try not to tag the same guy who tagged me. :-D So, here is the list of people I would like to tag.
1. Ashu Don
2. Pratibha
Number of books read: ~390 (maybe, more)
exclude comics: ~290
exclude school textbooks: ~190
exclude college textbooks: ~90
exclude childrens' classic: ~55
exclude boring books: ~53
exclude religious books: ~45
exclude technical papers: ~10
exclude other books: ~0
Last book I bought: Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events - book the fourth - The Miserable Mill.
Last book I read: Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events - book the fourth - The Miserable Mill.
Five books that I love:
1. The thorn birds
2. Harry Potter and the prisoner of Azkaban.
3. Mahabharata
4. Da Vinci Code
5. And then there were none.
and, as my audience is limited, i will try not to tag the same guy who tagged me. :-D So, here is the list of people I would like to tag.
1. Ashu Don
2. Pratibha
Friday, 3 June 2005
Some of the places I want to visit in my life
1. The Apex of Mount Everest
2. Manasarovar
3. Tibet.
4. Arunachal Pradesh
5. Switzerland.
6. Andes Mountains in Peru - The aztech civlization remains
7. The Grand Canyon
8. The Yangtze River especially the place where it makes a 180 degree turn.
9. Mount Fuji
10. North Pole and/or South Pole
11. My native place - again and again
12. Harappa and Mohenjodaro
Heck, I would want to visit every place in this world, but if given a choice, these will be the first I will want to go to.
2. Manasarovar
3. Tibet.
4. Arunachal Pradesh
5. Switzerland.
6. Andes Mountains in Peru - The aztech civlization remains
7. The Grand Canyon
8. The Yangtze River especially the place where it makes a 180 degree turn.
9. Mount Fuji
10. North Pole and/or South Pole
11. My native place - again and again
12. Harappa and Mohenjodaro
Heck, I would want to visit every place in this world, but if given a choice, these will be the first I will want to go to.
Monday, 30 May 2005
moments of unease.
There have so many of them, the moments of unease caused by the embarassment that follows the realization of a careless word, or action, that I have lost count of them by now. The variety of of such incidents that have resulted in me squirming with unease and be red-faced are so comprehensive that I could, had I noted them down in a notebook or some such thing, have authored my own '1001 ways to embarass yourself' guide. Some of them have been caused by a careless word the consequences of which I had not had the maturity to think through, while there have been some that my dear friend Nitin aptly describes to be falling in the category of 'Kulhaadi pe pair maarnaa' which for the benefit of not-so-erudite-in-Hindi clan means 'throwing your leg on an axe-blade'. Yet, there are some that are enforced on me without my own consent and despite my vehement opposition to the same. I have tried to fight them off on many occasions, but before I could express my angst at one and say, 'What the ...', there pile up many more of them against my name. If one is wondering why am I suddenly initiated into memoirs of my embarassing moments, the answer is simple enough - it happened once again yesterday. And so embarassed I am, more so today, about the incident and that there seeming to be no escape from facing it, that all I could think of to bear it was to look at this in comparison to some others from the past and then try to it-could-have-been-worse myself. I have learnt to laugh at myself on such occasions, for without any sign of escape, there seem to be very little options than sit and laugh at myself and pretend to be brave about it.
Thursday, 26 May 2005
Arranged Love?
Well, I am not exactly saying that my time is running out, but if things continue in the same vein for some more time, facing such a crisis may become a reality that I will have to face. By my own admission, I am a person, while appearing passive to the concept of love on most occasions, a romantic soul seeking love. So far the story has only been sad for me with the objects of my love either not appreciating my feelings or not reciprocating accordingly. With my grandmother all excited with eagerness to see me in marital bliss, I am now wondering if I too will have to rely on the efforts of my parents to find me a suitable girl. If that is so, I wonder if I will ever be able to do justice to the relationship! The awkwardness that I perceive between such a couple, at least in the early days of their togetherness, is enough to pull the rug under all the bliss that one hopes to experience. Not that I am one in the league of hunks or those able-bodied specimen that appear in television commercials going about in their nonchalant manner riding bikes and charming women at the same time. Neither girls are as dumb as they were traditionally supposed to be in the ancient world dominated by chauvinist males who thought themselves to be worthy of more than one sample of the opposite sex at any point of time. If anything, it is exactly the other way around these days, the situation made more precarious by dwindling sex ratios and generously assisted by those too-keen-to-kill-female-foetuses parents. It is interesting to know if they ever wonder if everyone goes about killing female foetuses like this then how are they going to find a bride for their dear son unless they have already presaged about his sexual orientation in the opposite direction. Thankfully the situation is not so extreme and there are, I hope, girls available for the bachelors of my generation, at least for a bachelor with a post-graduate degree in computer science and engineering and a job that pays him a handful. This is the hope that resides in my heart when I am in my usual rounds at the Forum Mall looking hither and thither for the young and the beautiful, the and being used in the inclusive sense in this case. A hope that one day one of these would find time and an occasion to lift their eyes off the hunk whose arm happens to be around their shoulders and throw a glance, even if cursory, towards me and recognize the romantic heart that beats inside, and for once, realize that beauty and sex-appeal can also be found in a dark skin, balding head, and bulging waistline. Until then it will be a race between me and my grandmother. Yes, I wait for the day when love will find its way into my life along with a girl. One only hopes that it is not led into; led by my grandmother, that is.
Wednesday, 18 May 2005
A few drops of water
The sun was scorching and the heat unbearable. There was not a trace of any clouds that could hide the sun and provide any relief, momentary though it may be, on the burning body of Uttamacharya as he trod haggardly on the sand in the midst of a desert praying to God for help. He was trying to remember every good deed he had done in his life to implore God to help him survive.
Uttamacharya was a renowned priest in the town of Swarnapuri and was respected for his profound erudition of scriptures and religion. Any pooja that was performed in Swarnapuri had Uttamacharya in attendance, and in most occasions, as the chief priest. His fame had spread far and wide and in due course of time with a generous grant from the King himself, Uttamacharya had grown considerably in affluence. As Uttamacharya gained more acclaim, invitations from kingdoms far away were sent out for him. On one such journey to a foreign kingdom, his caravan was trapped in a sand storm at the end of which Uttamacharya found himself alone in the middle of nowhere. With no instruments to guide him in the right direction, and with minuscule knowledge of the desert, he started off at the direction he deemed to be the most likely to take him to a civilization.
It had been three days of wandering without any water to quench his thirst in the desert and he was beginning to wonder if his prayers might end up being in vain after all. Add to this, the trauma of discerning a water pool at regular intervals only to discover it as a mirage was proving to be excruciating for him. Soon enough his courage failed him and he fell on his knees having pivoted all his hopes on a miracle from God.
It was dark when he opened his eyes. He did not know how long he had been lying there, but when he came around he saw that he was on the floor at the centre of a thatched hut. His throat was parched and he longed for some water to quench his thirst. At one corner was a man puffing into his choolha with all his might to get the embers to turn into a flame. Uttamacharya gave out a little dry cough and the man turned around. He smiled at the scholar and took a glass full of water out of a nearby pitcher and humbly offered it to him. Uttamacharya looked at him and a certain resemblance to someone he could not place became apparent to him. Nevertheless, he took the glass with gratitude and drank the water in gulps.
After satiating himself, he thanked his host profusely and introduced himself. The host having accepted Uttamacharya's gratitude paid respects to the scholar and inquired after his health. Uttamacharya could not overcome the nagging thought in his mind that he had met this person somewhere sometime earlier. Unable to contain his curiosity anymore, he inquired, "Oh kind soul! Have we met before? I ask this as I perceive a certain familiarity in your face."
"Yes, sir! We have. At the doorstep of your house in Swarnapuri."
"Then how is that I do not remember anything about our meeting."
"Because I was a child then and had come with my father. The similarity that you allude to is probably due to my resemblance to my father. My mother had fainted on the street in front of your house and my father had come to you asking for some water."
Uttamacharya still could not recollect the incident being narrated to him. However, having found himself in many such occasions of generosity, he considered this to be one such trivial incident which would not have found a place in his memory owing to lack of any significance attached to it. He however did not let that prevent him from acknowledging this and he continued,
"It must have been a brief acquaintence then, and I am happy to see that a glass of water offered in generosity goes as far as etching a permanent place in your memory. I am really flattered."
"Yes, sir! It is a glass of water that has enabled me to remember your face distinctly. It is unimaginable that an untouchable like me would ever find an occasion to serve a noble soul like you but it is God's grace that He has provided me with an opportunity to pay you back. For it is now that you shall learn the ultimate lesson of humanity."
Uttamacharya winced a little. Drinking water at the hands of an untouchable was not something his pride would have allowed, yet there was nothing he could do about it now. He was not sure whether he understood exactly what his host was trying to convey. Whether it was a comment in his praise or criticism, he could not say, but there was something in the man's eyes that betrayed a sinister feeling. As these thoughts started creeping into his mind, his head went in a swim.
"I am not sure if I understand you correctly, young man. Have I offended you in some way?"
"You will not understand. You did not understand even on that day. My father pleaded with you invoking all the pity in you to help my mother. It was just a glass of water that all he asked for, but you did not relent and my mother died right in front of your house. It is the glass of water which you did not provide that made me resolve to take a revenge on you one day. And it is a glass of water that will make you realize and repent your mistake today."
Uttamacharya's eyes widened on hearing this. His face went pale and the limbs trembled with trepidation. It dawned on him what had transpired. Realizing that there was little time left for him, he said a silent prayer to God, and addressed the man with much difficulty,
"Young man, I have sinned by not helping another human being. I am happy that God has chosen the most appropriate way to make me realize my mistake. Please forgive me for my sins. May God bless you!"
With these words, Uttamacharya's head jerked back, his body fell back on the floor, and after a heave, his lungs perished. The glass tumbled out of his hands and out trickled the last few drops of the poison.
Uttamacharya was a renowned priest in the town of Swarnapuri and was respected for his profound erudition of scriptures and religion. Any pooja that was performed in Swarnapuri had Uttamacharya in attendance, and in most occasions, as the chief priest. His fame had spread far and wide and in due course of time with a generous grant from the King himself, Uttamacharya had grown considerably in affluence. As Uttamacharya gained more acclaim, invitations from kingdoms far away were sent out for him. On one such journey to a foreign kingdom, his caravan was trapped in a sand storm at the end of which Uttamacharya found himself alone in the middle of nowhere. With no instruments to guide him in the right direction, and with minuscule knowledge of the desert, he started off at the direction he deemed to be the most likely to take him to a civilization.
It had been three days of wandering without any water to quench his thirst in the desert and he was beginning to wonder if his prayers might end up being in vain after all. Add to this, the trauma of discerning a water pool at regular intervals only to discover it as a mirage was proving to be excruciating for him. Soon enough his courage failed him and he fell on his knees having pivoted all his hopes on a miracle from God.
It was dark when he opened his eyes. He did not know how long he had been lying there, but when he came around he saw that he was on the floor at the centre of a thatched hut. His throat was parched and he longed for some water to quench his thirst. At one corner was a man puffing into his choolha with all his might to get the embers to turn into a flame. Uttamacharya gave out a little dry cough and the man turned around. He smiled at the scholar and took a glass full of water out of a nearby pitcher and humbly offered it to him. Uttamacharya looked at him and a certain resemblance to someone he could not place became apparent to him. Nevertheless, he took the glass with gratitude and drank the water in gulps.
After satiating himself, he thanked his host profusely and introduced himself. The host having accepted Uttamacharya's gratitude paid respects to the scholar and inquired after his health. Uttamacharya could not overcome the nagging thought in his mind that he had met this person somewhere sometime earlier. Unable to contain his curiosity anymore, he inquired, "Oh kind soul! Have we met before? I ask this as I perceive a certain familiarity in your face."
"Yes, sir! We have. At the doorstep of your house in Swarnapuri."
"Then how is that I do not remember anything about our meeting."
"Because I was a child then and had come with my father. The similarity that you allude to is probably due to my resemblance to my father. My mother had fainted on the street in front of your house and my father had come to you asking for some water."
Uttamacharya still could not recollect the incident being narrated to him. However, having found himself in many such occasions of generosity, he considered this to be one such trivial incident which would not have found a place in his memory owing to lack of any significance attached to it. He however did not let that prevent him from acknowledging this and he continued,
"It must have been a brief acquaintence then, and I am happy to see that a glass of water offered in generosity goes as far as etching a permanent place in your memory. I am really flattered."
"Yes, sir! It is a glass of water that has enabled me to remember your face distinctly. It is unimaginable that an untouchable like me would ever find an occasion to serve a noble soul like you but it is God's grace that He has provided me with an opportunity to pay you back. For it is now that you shall learn the ultimate lesson of humanity."
Uttamacharya winced a little. Drinking water at the hands of an untouchable was not something his pride would have allowed, yet there was nothing he could do about it now. He was not sure whether he understood exactly what his host was trying to convey. Whether it was a comment in his praise or criticism, he could not say, but there was something in the man's eyes that betrayed a sinister feeling. As these thoughts started creeping into his mind, his head went in a swim.
"I am not sure if I understand you correctly, young man. Have I offended you in some way?"
"You will not understand. You did not understand even on that day. My father pleaded with you invoking all the pity in you to help my mother. It was just a glass of water that all he asked for, but you did not relent and my mother died right in front of your house. It is the glass of water which you did not provide that made me resolve to take a revenge on you one day. And it is a glass of water that will make you realize and repent your mistake today."
Uttamacharya's eyes widened on hearing this. His face went pale and the limbs trembled with trepidation. It dawned on him what had transpired. Realizing that there was little time left for him, he said a silent prayer to God, and addressed the man with much difficulty,
"Young man, I have sinned by not helping another human being. I am happy that God has chosen the most appropriate way to make me realize my mistake. Please forgive me for my sins. May God bless you!"
With these words, Uttamacharya's head jerked back, his body fell back on the floor, and after a heave, his lungs perished. The glass tumbled out of his hands and out trickled the last few drops of the poison.
Wednesday, 11 May 2005
My travel logs.
Here is a not-so-brief account of my travel to Tirupathi and Kanyakumari not very long ago.
Tirupati - the temple of seven hills
The journey began on the 27th April in not very extra-ordinary
circumstances. The shortest way to reach the temple town of Tirupati
from the shores of Goa is through Bangalore, which could be reached
quickly but not-so-often conveniently by bus on a road punctuated by
numerous potholes that had almost succeeded in their endeavour to
obliterate any resemblance to an accepted definition of a road.
My base camp for Tirupati was Chennai. The rationale behind this
choice was the presence of numerous Travel agents and their pre-
arranged one-day tours to the seven hills.
To anyone who is visiting Tirupati for the first time, the tours can
be a good option. The tours are conducted by both, Tamilnadu Tourism
Corporation and private operators, the former being more reliable
and therefore enjoying more popularity among pilgrims and tourists.
The more adventurous type may catch a bus directly to Tirupati.
Here, a little geographical detail becomes mandatory. The main
temple dedicate to Lord Balaji is situated atop the hill of Tirumala
(The holy hill) about 25 kms or an hour away from the town of
Tirupati. The road is winding and curvaceous but the journey is
pleasant. There is a government bus every minute going uphill and
downhill. For those who seek a more religious approach to the temple
premises, there is an option to climb up a series of about 4000
steps. The town of Tirupati is well connected by rail and road to
many important cities in South India.
The most difficult part of a visit to the temple of Tirupati is
entering the temple itself. It is not uncommon to find people spending more
time waiting for Darshan than they spend traveling to get there. A
lot of measures have been taken up by the temple authorities to make
things a lot easier for pilgrims but they come with a price
attached. The time spent waiting for a Darshan in a queue is
inversely proportional to the money one is ready to shell out from
one's pocket. A free Darshan may not materialize for more than 24
hours in the worst case, the entire duration of which is spent in
closed enclosures with hundreds of other people in conditions which,
the temple authorities' efforts to maintain otherwise
notwithstanding, are overwhelmed with the filth perpetrated by the
visitors. There is lot of eatables for sale while you suffer through
the excruciatingly long wait. There are baths and toilets available,
the former being subjected to the same treatment as the latter.
Those intending to follow this option are requested to keep handy
additional clothes to change into.
The more affluent options come in the form of tickets and
appointments. Tickets with bar codes are issued and stuck around
one's wrist at various counters situated at Tirupati Railway
station, Balaji Temple at T. Nagar, Chennai and the temple premises
itself. The ticket indicates a time when the bearer is supposed to
report for a Darshan. The bearer is then asked to join another
shorter queue that takes far less time than the free Darshan line to
reach the objective. The price ranges from Rs.40 to Rs.1000, the
latter offering the privilege of a longer darshan combined with the
good fortune of performing an archana etc. for the lord. For the
less fortunate ones, the darshan lasts only a few seconds. The
temple is open for Darshan between 0300 hours to 0000 hours
approximately.
On the plus side are the impeccable lodging arrangements, transport,
amenities and, last but not the least, the idol of Lord
Venkatachalapati or Lord Balaji. I must say it was one of the most
breathtakingly beautiful idols I have ever seen. There are no
photographs allowed inside the temple so you will have to see it to
experience its enchanting beauty. If there is one reason why one
must visit the temple, it is the Darshan.
The story behind the temple is a very interesting one, and though my
version is based purely on hearsay, I will reproduce it as I heard
it. Legend says that while Lord Balaji was roaming around Tirupati,
he saw Devi Padmavati and fell for her enchanting beauty
immediately. However, Devi Padmavati was a princess and would marry
a person who was in status higher to her family. To fulfill this
condition, Lord Balaji took a huge loan from Lord Kubera. Though the
marriage ceremony was completed soon thereafter, Lord Balaji could
not return to his heavenly abode at Vaikuntha until the debt was
repaid. The Lord, therefore, asked his followers for help and it is
with this faith and every one of those who visit the temple donates
loads of money to it. It is also said that those who donate money at
the temple are blessed by Goddess Lakshmi to attain more wealth.
There are a number of touts and frauds and "agents" that one must
beware of. Though, with proper negotiations things can be done
pretty efficiently and quickly with their help.
Overall, the journey was a bag of mixed feelings, the end result of
which was quite satisfactory. I would advise everyone to pay a visit
at least once to this temple and undergo an experience that is
shared by an astonishing hundred thousand pilgrims everyday!
Kanyakumari - The virgin Goddess
India is probably one of those privileged lands which have high mountains on one side and oceans and sea shores on the others. Often in literature, the former are likened to the crown of the country whose feet are washed by the oceans. India is also one of those rare countries that have their shores shared between not one, not two, but three great seas. And there is probably only one place in the whole world where one can witness the “confluence” of three great seas; and that place is Kanyakumari. This unique geographical phenomenon has made this little town in the southern most tip of mainland India one of the significant destinations in any religious or pleasure trips that one seeks to undertake in this country. The fame of Kanyakumari has in the past attracted great saints like Swami Vivekananda and Mahatma Gandhi. There is beauty in every part of this little town and one has to be there to witness it.
The town is well connected by rail and road to many cities in the south India. In fact, it was also one of the end points of the longest railway journey in our country for a long time (The privilege is now enjoyed by Tiruananthapuram and Guwahati). Best options would be a train from Chennai or a bus or train from Trivandrum.
The oldest and the most ancient landmark in this town is the temple of Goddess Kumari who prayed to Lord Shiva to be accepted as wife by him. The name of this place has taken after the name of the Goddess. During the Raj, it was also known as Cape Comorin, which according to me is probably a British spoilt version of “Kumari”. The town is so small that an enthusiastic tourist may actually walk the entire length and breadth of the town and not shed a drop of sweat. Anyway, buses are available and the fares are rock bottom. The auto rickshaw fellows may seek to fleece you but their higher limits of fare exaggerations still seem reasonable to someone who has had the past experience of auto rickshaw nightmares at Delhi, Mumbai or Chennai. In short, traveling in and around Kumari is not expensive.
The temple is rather small by South Indian standards, but comes with the usual ingredients of Pujaris, Poojas, Kumkums, and Prasads. The street to the temple is lined on both sides by Shops wherefrom one can buy little curios, essential stuffs, food items etc. After the experience at Tirupati, it was quite relieving to find unrestricted entry at the temple. Strangely, all men are supposed to enter the temple with bare torsos. I could not figure out the reason behind this except that, as described by a Pujari, it is a mark of respect to the Devi. The reason was good enough for me and since I have visited a few more temples in South India where such a rule existed, it was not a surprise to me.
The major attraction for any tourist at Kumari is the Vivekananda Rock Memorial.
The Rock is about a hundred meters from the shore and a regular ferry service exists between the mainland jetty and the rock. The tickets is 20/- for a ride. The Rock has two Mandaps; one belonging to Swami Vivekananda and the other belonging to a Holy Foot. The Holy Foot is a foot shaped carving found on the rock and is believed to be a foot print of Goddess Kumari who stood on this rock on one leg and performed the Tapasya. The Rock memorial has a tall statue of Swamiji whose photographs we are not allowed to take from inside the hall. Below the statue was mentioned the year of death of Swamiji and the “probable” dates when Swamiji attained Samadhi on the rock. Besides these, there wasn’t much to see on these rocks.
There is another rock adjacent to Vivekananda’s, and this one is dedicated to arguably the greatest Tamil poet, philosopher and saint – Tiru Valluvar. The rock supports a huge statue of the saint carved out of many rocks that were then joined together. It was inaugurated fairly recently. The statue is about 133 feet long which corresponds to 133 chapters in the greatest epic written by the saint – Tirukkural. Tourists can climb up to the feet of the statue. The view from this point is quite breathtaking! Inside the base of the statue, the entire Tirukkural is inscribed on the walls and also its translation in English. It makes a very entertaining and enlightening read and inspires one to lead a very principled life. It is a must read for anyone who visits this place and one is requested to take out at least half an hour for this exercise.
Such is the beauty of Kanyakumari that lot of people find themselves attracted to it. Mahatma Gandhi too could not resist its charm and there is a place here dedicated to him called Gandhi Mandapam. My interest in this place was two fold – A curiosity about how and when Gandhiji got associated with this place, and the fact this was the place, as told to me by a local, where one could witness the “Sangam” of the three oceans! Apparently, Gandhiji did happen to arrive here and succumbed to the beauty of the place as described in his beautiful words inscribed below his portrait in the Mandapam. Also, after he died, his ashes were brought to this place and kept before they were - for the lack of a better word - given out into the sea. At the place where the ashes were kept, stands a small stone which receives the Sun’s rays only on the 2nd of October every year through a small hole on the roof. It is amazing that on no other day does this phenomenon occur! At least, this was what I was made to believe and I did not find reasons to disagree with it.
The greatest attraction for tourists in Kanyakumari is the Sunrise and Sunset. Unfortunately, my itinerary did not permit me to witness this often beautifully described natural phenomenon. However, one is requested to find time to witness these if possible.
There are numerous hotels, residencies etc. in and around Kanyakumari and therefore, staying over will not be a problem. But there are agents, touts and brokers in every nook and corner looking for unsuspecting tourists. Vivekananda Kendra can be a good option for people looking for accommodation.
A note of caution for casual travelers – There are some travelers like me who do not like to carry enough cash with them with the hope that there are those ubiquitous ATMs to bail them in times of immediate need of money. Astonishing it may be for them that there are no ATMs in the town except for one belonging to the State Bank of India. Others are located at least 18kms away in the town of Nagarcoil, the bus fare to which is a measly Rs.11.
Tirupati - the temple of seven hills
The journey began on the 27th April in not very extra-ordinary
circumstances. The shortest way to reach the temple town of Tirupati
from the shores of Goa is through Bangalore, which could be reached
quickly but not-so-often conveniently by bus on a road punctuated by
numerous potholes that had almost succeeded in their endeavour to
obliterate any resemblance to an accepted definition of a road.
My base camp for Tirupati was Chennai. The rationale behind this
choice was the presence of numerous Travel agents and their pre-
arranged one-day tours to the seven hills.
To anyone who is visiting Tirupati for the first time, the tours can
be a good option. The tours are conducted by both, Tamilnadu Tourism
Corporation and private operators, the former being more reliable
and therefore enjoying more popularity among pilgrims and tourists.
The more adventurous type may catch a bus directly to Tirupati.
Here, a little geographical detail becomes mandatory. The main
temple dedicate to Lord Balaji is situated atop the hill of Tirumala
(The holy hill) about 25 kms or an hour away from the town of
Tirupati. The road is winding and curvaceous but the journey is
pleasant. There is a government bus every minute going uphill and
downhill. For those who seek a more religious approach to the temple
premises, there is an option to climb up a series of about 4000
steps. The town of Tirupati is well connected by rail and road to
many important cities in South India.
The most difficult part of a visit to the temple of Tirupati is
entering the temple itself. It is not uncommon to find people spending more
time waiting for Darshan than they spend traveling to get there. A
lot of measures have been taken up by the temple authorities to make
things a lot easier for pilgrims but they come with a price
attached. The time spent waiting for a Darshan in a queue is
inversely proportional to the money one is ready to shell out from
one's pocket. A free Darshan may not materialize for more than 24
hours in the worst case, the entire duration of which is spent in
closed enclosures with hundreds of other people in conditions which,
the temple authorities' efforts to maintain otherwise
notwithstanding, are overwhelmed with the filth perpetrated by the
visitors. There is lot of eatables for sale while you suffer through
the excruciatingly long wait. There are baths and toilets available,
the former being subjected to the same treatment as the latter.
Those intending to follow this option are requested to keep handy
additional clothes to change into.
The more affluent options come in the form of tickets and
appointments. Tickets with bar codes are issued and stuck around
one's wrist at various counters situated at Tirupati Railway
station, Balaji Temple at T. Nagar, Chennai and the temple premises
itself. The ticket indicates a time when the bearer is supposed to
report for a Darshan. The bearer is then asked to join another
shorter queue that takes far less time than the free Darshan line to
reach the objective. The price ranges from Rs.40 to Rs.1000, the
latter offering the privilege of a longer darshan combined with the
good fortune of performing an archana etc. for the lord. For the
less fortunate ones, the darshan lasts only a few seconds. The
temple is open for Darshan between 0300 hours to 0000 hours
approximately.
On the plus side are the impeccable lodging arrangements, transport,
amenities and, last but not the least, the idol of Lord
Venkatachalapati or Lord Balaji. I must say it was one of the most
breathtakingly beautiful idols I have ever seen. There are no
photographs allowed inside the temple so you will have to see it to
experience its enchanting beauty. If there is one reason why one
must visit the temple, it is the Darshan.
The story behind the temple is a very interesting one, and though my
version is based purely on hearsay, I will reproduce it as I heard
it. Legend says that while Lord Balaji was roaming around Tirupati,
he saw Devi Padmavati and fell for her enchanting beauty
immediately. However, Devi Padmavati was a princess and would marry
a person who was in status higher to her family. To fulfill this
condition, Lord Balaji took a huge loan from Lord Kubera. Though the
marriage ceremony was completed soon thereafter, Lord Balaji could
not return to his heavenly abode at Vaikuntha until the debt was
repaid. The Lord, therefore, asked his followers for help and it is
with this faith and every one of those who visit the temple donates
loads of money to it. It is also said that those who donate money at
the temple are blessed by Goddess Lakshmi to attain more wealth.
There are a number of touts and frauds and "agents" that one must
beware of. Though, with proper negotiations things can be done
pretty efficiently and quickly with their help.
Overall, the journey was a bag of mixed feelings, the end result of
which was quite satisfactory. I would advise everyone to pay a visit
at least once to this temple and undergo an experience that is
shared by an astonishing hundred thousand pilgrims everyday!
Kanyakumari - The virgin Goddess
India is probably one of those privileged lands which have high mountains on one side and oceans and sea shores on the others. Often in literature, the former are likened to the crown of the country whose feet are washed by the oceans. India is also one of those rare countries that have their shores shared between not one, not two, but three great seas. And there is probably only one place in the whole world where one can witness the “confluence” of three great seas; and that place is Kanyakumari. This unique geographical phenomenon has made this little town in the southern most tip of mainland India one of the significant destinations in any religious or pleasure trips that one seeks to undertake in this country. The fame of Kanyakumari has in the past attracted great saints like Swami Vivekananda and Mahatma Gandhi. There is beauty in every part of this little town and one has to be there to witness it.
The town is well connected by rail and road to many cities in the south India. In fact, it was also one of the end points of the longest railway journey in our country for a long time (The privilege is now enjoyed by Tiruananthapuram and Guwahati). Best options would be a train from Chennai or a bus or train from Trivandrum.
The oldest and the most ancient landmark in this town is the temple of Goddess Kumari who prayed to Lord Shiva to be accepted as wife by him. The name of this place has taken after the name of the Goddess. During the Raj, it was also known as Cape Comorin, which according to me is probably a British spoilt version of “Kumari”. The town is so small that an enthusiastic tourist may actually walk the entire length and breadth of the town and not shed a drop of sweat. Anyway, buses are available and the fares are rock bottom. The auto rickshaw fellows may seek to fleece you but their higher limits of fare exaggerations still seem reasonable to someone who has had the past experience of auto rickshaw nightmares at Delhi, Mumbai or Chennai. In short, traveling in and around Kumari is not expensive.
The temple is rather small by South Indian standards, but comes with the usual ingredients of Pujaris, Poojas, Kumkums, and Prasads. The street to the temple is lined on both sides by Shops wherefrom one can buy little curios, essential stuffs, food items etc. After the experience at Tirupati, it was quite relieving to find unrestricted entry at the temple. Strangely, all men are supposed to enter the temple with bare torsos. I could not figure out the reason behind this except that, as described by a Pujari, it is a mark of respect to the Devi. The reason was good enough for me and since I have visited a few more temples in South India where such a rule existed, it was not a surprise to me.
The major attraction for any tourist at Kumari is the Vivekananda Rock Memorial.
The Rock is about a hundred meters from the shore and a regular ferry service exists between the mainland jetty and the rock. The tickets is 20/- for a ride. The Rock has two Mandaps; one belonging to Swami Vivekananda and the other belonging to a Holy Foot. The Holy Foot is a foot shaped carving found on the rock and is believed to be a foot print of Goddess Kumari who stood on this rock on one leg and performed the Tapasya. The Rock memorial has a tall statue of Swamiji whose photographs we are not allowed to take from inside the hall. Below the statue was mentioned the year of death of Swamiji and the “probable” dates when Swamiji attained Samadhi on the rock. Besides these, there wasn’t much to see on these rocks.
There is another rock adjacent to Vivekananda’s, and this one is dedicated to arguably the greatest Tamil poet, philosopher and saint – Tiru Valluvar. The rock supports a huge statue of the saint carved out of many rocks that were then joined together. It was inaugurated fairly recently. The statue is about 133 feet long which corresponds to 133 chapters in the greatest epic written by the saint – Tirukkural. Tourists can climb up to the feet of the statue. The view from this point is quite breathtaking! Inside the base of the statue, the entire Tirukkural is inscribed on the walls and also its translation in English. It makes a very entertaining and enlightening read and inspires one to lead a very principled life. It is a must read for anyone who visits this place and one is requested to take out at least half an hour for this exercise.
Such is the beauty of Kanyakumari that lot of people find themselves attracted to it. Mahatma Gandhi too could not resist its charm and there is a place here dedicated to him called Gandhi Mandapam. My interest in this place was two fold – A curiosity about how and when Gandhiji got associated with this place, and the fact this was the place, as told to me by a local, where one could witness the “Sangam” of the three oceans! Apparently, Gandhiji did happen to arrive here and succumbed to the beauty of the place as described in his beautiful words inscribed below his portrait in the Mandapam. Also, after he died, his ashes were brought to this place and kept before they were - for the lack of a better word - given out into the sea. At the place where the ashes were kept, stands a small stone which receives the Sun’s rays only on the 2nd of October every year through a small hole on the roof. It is amazing that on no other day does this phenomenon occur! At least, this was what I was made to believe and I did not find reasons to disagree with it.
The greatest attraction for tourists in Kanyakumari is the Sunrise and Sunset. Unfortunately, my itinerary did not permit me to witness this often beautifully described natural phenomenon. However, one is requested to find time to witness these if possible.
There are numerous hotels, residencies etc. in and around Kanyakumari and therefore, staying over will not be a problem. But there are agents, touts and brokers in every nook and corner looking for unsuspecting tourists. Vivekananda Kendra can be a good option for people looking for accommodation.
A note of caution for casual travelers – There are some travelers like me who do not like to carry enough cash with them with the hope that there are those ubiquitous ATMs to bail them in times of immediate need of money. Astonishing it may be for them that there are no ATMs in the town except for one belonging to the State Bank of India. Others are located at least 18kms away in the town of Nagarcoil, the bus fare to which is a measly Rs.11.
Tuesday, 10 May 2005
Modern Man - Back to basics.
A brief look at the habits of all the animals that we classify as uncivilized will convey to us that their lives are nothing more than a repeating sequence of eating and sleeping punctuated by acts of species propagation in their respective mating seasons. Only the species of Human beings evolved into a life of more complex and inter-twined individual and social life with duties specified as diverse as keying in obscure code into computers, creating and disposing of the garbage, taking care of parents, families, children, and cheering for home team. Well, I am not delving into a Human's life other than the one that concerns him at the most basic level. The basic duty as chosen by nature for many animals, and especially for monkeys if we believe in Darwin's theory, is that male hunts, gathers food, eats, sleeps and occasionaly finds a female to mate with, while the female hunts, gathers food, eats, sleeps, occasionaly finds a male to mate with, and more importantly, propagates the species forward by giving birth to its young ones, introducing them to the big bad world, and teaching them the techniques to survive and multiply.
In most of the species, the male is the stronger sex, the strength being used to impress the female and thus presenting strong credentials to be deemed eligible for mating. Not that health is not an important eligibility for a female, but strength is solely in the male domain, and a distinguishing feature between the males of the species. Human, it seems, was (or should I say, is) no different going by the information that historians have gathered about the cave-men.
As Humans evolved, responsibilities were added to the male's life. There were duties assigned to him with respect to his family, his herd, his community, his land etc. At the primary level, a man was supposed to earn bread for his family while the female took care of their children. As the Human race went through various struggles, it became more important for the male to protect females who were not as strong as him. It would not be far from the truth to assume that the institution of marriage was established only as a consequence of this need for a man to protect females in his community.
This institution underwent numerous changes for thousands of years to evolve into the form we know it as today. However, in the meantime, the roles of the male and the female have undergone innumerable changes, more significantly in the female domain. The female is not only interested in just raising her children, but also in earning bread for herself, in devising schemes and methods to protect herself. The man, on the other hand, has remained limited to the job of earning bread and protecting his family. However, even this job has become redundant given the female propensity to be more and more independent of her male counterpart.
This brings us to a very basic question. What will be the role of the Human male if the female attains more and more independence in her life? Will it boil down to just eating, sleeping, and occasionally oblige a female by participating in the process of copulation with her? A life, I dare say, not many males will mind leading.
In most of the species, the male is the stronger sex, the strength being used to impress the female and thus presenting strong credentials to be deemed eligible for mating. Not that health is not an important eligibility for a female, but strength is solely in the male domain, and a distinguishing feature between the males of the species. Human, it seems, was (or should I say, is) no different going by the information that historians have gathered about the cave-men.
As Humans evolved, responsibilities were added to the male's life. There were duties assigned to him with respect to his family, his herd, his community, his land etc. At the primary level, a man was supposed to earn bread for his family while the female took care of their children. As the Human race went through various struggles, it became more important for the male to protect females who were not as strong as him. It would not be far from the truth to assume that the institution of marriage was established only as a consequence of this need for a man to protect females in his community.
This institution underwent numerous changes for thousands of years to evolve into the form we know it as today. However, in the meantime, the roles of the male and the female have undergone innumerable changes, more significantly in the female domain. The female is not only interested in just raising her children, but also in earning bread for herself, in devising schemes and methods to protect herself. The man, on the other hand, has remained limited to the job of earning bread and protecting his family. However, even this job has become redundant given the female propensity to be more and more independent of her male counterpart.
This brings us to a very basic question. What will be the role of the Human male if the female attains more and more independence in her life? Will it boil down to just eating, sleeping, and occasionally oblige a female by participating in the process of copulation with her? A life, I dare say, not many males will mind leading.
Thursday, 5 May 2005
blah...
just so wanted to write something, but my mind goes blank.
just so want to discover some excitement now.
read some code, fix some bugs, read blogs, write blogs, check email and life goes on...
it rained yesterday in bangalore, and the weather was pleasant.
gol-gappas in bangalore suck!
just so want to discover some excitement now.
read some code, fix some bugs, read blogs, write blogs, check email and life goes on...
it rained yesterday in bangalore, and the weather was pleasant.
gol-gappas in bangalore suck!
Tuesday, 3 May 2005
If only...
Last week, I was on a trip to the north, visiting Punjab, Dilli, and Nagpur. Though the trip was nice, I was almost made to regret my decision not to postpone the trip by a week. Here are the reasons why I could have gone a week later on this trip.
1. My mom would have accompanied me.
2. I could have played the all-important, do or die, cricket match of the first round for Trilogy.
3. I could have attended the marriage of my friend's sister in Dilli.
4. The national roaming rates came down by a third starting May '05!
5. I wouldn't have had to cancel two tickets that I had booked on Rajdhani, and wouldn't have had
to toil in the sleeper class with the Indian summer at its peak!
If only....well, that's what life is all about. :-)
1. My mom would have accompanied me.
2. I could have played the all-important, do or die, cricket match of the first round for Trilogy.
3. I could have attended the marriage of my friend's sister in Dilli.
4. The national roaming rates came down by a third starting May '05!
5. I wouldn't have had to cancel two tickets that I had booked on Rajdhani, and wouldn't have had
to toil in the sleeper class with the Indian summer at its peak!
If only....well, that's what life is all about. :-)
Tuesday, 19 April 2005
Update...
I. In the last couple of days I came across two people with who I had a brief interaction and briefer still introduction. Funnily enough, both interactions were online, and were initiated from the other side.
I am really amazed at how the communication revolution has helped people develop more contacts with fellow human beings. The distance is now immaterial. I talk to my mother almost every alternate day over the phone, and really, since cell phones have become our primary instrument of communication, I do not feel homesick as much as I used to before I acquired the gadget.
Blogging is another technology that simply amazes me. It has been able to keep friends and relatives informed about ourselves, or voice our opinions to other, or form communities with shared interests, or develop acquaintances with strangers. It is incredible to see the different kinds of people and their varied blogs that we encounter on the webspace. Yes, the variety does exist even if the bloggers are not entirely honest in their online avtaar.
I wonder what the next communication revolution will be!
II. I am seriously thinking about the future course of my life. I have converged on two paths and it is a matter of I choosing one of them which, I must hasten to add, is proving to be an extremely difficult task. The first path, hold your breath, is to pursue a PhD and though a little intimidated I am with the thought, especially after the ordeal I went through during my Masters, it seems to me to be the next logical step now. The other path is UPSC, or more popularly known as Civil Services, or IAS as is usually referred to. The reason I want to go for this is the immeasurable power that I will be in possession of, and the perks that I will be eligible to enjoy which are available to the common citizenry only at a premium. The disadvantage, of course, is the lack of money and a chance of I ending up in an insignificant desk job in an obscure department.
III. The honeymoon with Trilogy seems to be coming to an end. Now the tough and mundane life of a regular job seems to be catching up. It is not as exciting as it used to be though not half as bad as how some other people find their jobs.
IV. Two films I want to watch - Mumbai Express & Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events . I read the first three books of the latter, and though they are what one might describe as suitable for a young audience only, I found them very interesting and humourous to read. I intend to buy or borrow the next eight books in the series and read them.
V. Bunti aur Babli has nice hummable songs, and definitely downloadable.
I am really amazed at how the communication revolution has helped people develop more contacts with fellow human beings. The distance is now immaterial. I talk to my mother almost every alternate day over the phone, and really, since cell phones have become our primary instrument of communication, I do not feel homesick as much as I used to before I acquired the gadget.
Blogging is another technology that simply amazes me. It has been able to keep friends and relatives informed about ourselves, or voice our opinions to other, or form communities with shared interests, or develop acquaintances with strangers. It is incredible to see the different kinds of people and their varied blogs that we encounter on the webspace. Yes, the variety does exist even if the bloggers are not entirely honest in their online avtaar.
I wonder what the next communication revolution will be!
II. I am seriously thinking about the future course of my life. I have converged on two paths and it is a matter of I choosing one of them which, I must hasten to add, is proving to be an extremely difficult task. The first path, hold your breath, is to pursue a PhD and though a little intimidated I am with the thought, especially after the ordeal I went through during my Masters, it seems to me to be the next logical step now. The other path is UPSC, or more popularly known as Civil Services, or IAS as is usually referred to. The reason I want to go for this is the immeasurable power that I will be in possession of, and the perks that I will be eligible to enjoy which are available to the common citizenry only at a premium. The disadvantage, of course, is the lack of money and a chance of I ending up in an insignificant desk job in an obscure department.
III. The honeymoon with Trilogy seems to be coming to an end. Now the tough and mundane life of a regular job seems to be catching up. It is not as exciting as it used to be though not half as bad as how some other people find their jobs.
IV. Two films I want to watch - Mumbai Express & Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events . I read the first three books of the latter, and though they are what one might describe as suitable for a young audience only, I found them very interesting and humourous to read. I intend to buy or borrow the next eight books in the series and read them.
V. Bunti aur Babli has nice hummable songs, and definitely downloadable.
Monday, 4 April 2005
Should we even care?
A bus service is announced between Sri Nagar and Muzaffarabad, and the media men hail it as a stepping stone toward lasting peace between India and Pakistan, the politicians project it as one of their major accomplishments toward bringing about a "solution" to the problem, and the people are in general made to feel as if the world is now turning into Utopia.
Then comes out of nowhere a threat from militants, or as Mushy likes to put euphemistically, "freedom fighters" who boldly announce to the world that they are ready to kill their own people if they decide to mingle among themselves. That allowing kashmiris to meet kashmiris is in a way trying to divide kashmir and kashmiri people. Interesting!
The people are alarmed, the government under pressure, and the media in a frenzy. I beg to ask why we should at all be bothered. If the militants are so keen to cause harm to the people whose rights they apparently are fighting for, why should we even bother with the security cover etc.? The Indian government is doing the best it could to ease the tensions, and if the militant organizations are hell bent on earning ill-will of the people, so be it.
If anything, this will be good for the Indian cause in the long run.
Then comes out of nowhere a threat from militants, or as Mushy likes to put euphemistically, "freedom fighters" who boldly announce to the world that they are ready to kill their own people if they decide to mingle among themselves. That allowing kashmiris to meet kashmiris is in a way trying to divide kashmir and kashmiri people. Interesting!
The people are alarmed, the government under pressure, and the media in a frenzy. I beg to ask why we should at all be bothered. If the militants are so keen to cause harm to the people whose rights they apparently are fighting for, why should we even bother with the security cover etc.? The Indian government is doing the best it could to ease the tensions, and if the militant organizations are hell bent on earning ill-will of the people, so be it.
If anything, this will be good for the Indian cause in the long run.
Tuesday, 1 March 2005
no more jammin'
Lately I have been doing a lot of coding. And surprisingly, it has not been at work. Earlier, there was Bitwise 2k5 organized by IITKgp, and then there was the contest of all contests - Google Code Jam, the India edition.
Having spent a lot of time coding during the days leading upto the Bitwise2k5, one would have thought I would have gained considerable amount of expertise to code quickly and correctly. That did not happen. I failed miserably at Bitwise.
Then, having spent a significant number of hours logged onto the topcoder site to practise for Google code jam, one would have placed a high bet on my qualifying through to the next round. But, that too did not happen.
My motivation to take part in these competitions was to assess my coding skills, although I would be lying if I say that money was not an important factor in both the cases. After having failed in both the events, I have to now concentrate anew on my coding skills and have to improve my thinking, designing, coding, and running time.
I have understood in my last seven months in the Industry that coding correctly is not good enough, the speed and efficiency plays an important role if one desires to advance up the corporate ladder quickly.
I am looking out for suggestions to achieve these goals as of now. If anyone has any important tips to give, please do so. It will be kind of him/her.
Having spent a lot of time coding during the days leading upto the Bitwise2k5, one would have thought I would have gained considerable amount of expertise to code quickly and correctly. That did not happen. I failed miserably at Bitwise.
Then, having spent a significant number of hours logged onto the topcoder site to practise for Google code jam, one would have placed a high bet on my qualifying through to the next round. But, that too did not happen.
My motivation to take part in these competitions was to assess my coding skills, although I would be lying if I say that money was not an important factor in both the cases. After having failed in both the events, I have to now concentrate anew on my coding skills and have to improve my thinking, designing, coding, and running time.
I have understood in my last seven months in the Industry that coding correctly is not good enough, the speed and efficiency plays an important role if one desires to advance up the corporate ladder quickly.
I am looking out for suggestions to achieve these goals as of now. If anyone has any important tips to give, please do so. It will be kind of him/her.
Thursday, 10 February 2005
thoughts....
kya khauf hai tumko humse
kis baat se katraate ho
hum dosti ka haath badhate hain
tum haath jhatak kar jate ho
kuch aur nahi hai chaaha humne
fir kyun humse sharmaate ho
na kha jaayenge tumko hum
jo itna tum ghabraate ho.
gar baate ye itni galat hai to
kaan pakad khada ho jaunga
par haske tum do baat kaho
to khushh bada ho jaunga
ps:
are o! aasman wale bata, is mein bura kya hai
khushi ke chaar jhonke gar idhar se bhi guzar jaayen!
kis baat se katraate ho
hum dosti ka haath badhate hain
tum haath jhatak kar jate ho
kuch aur nahi hai chaaha humne
fir kyun humse sharmaate ho
na kha jaayenge tumko hum
jo itna tum ghabraate ho.
gar baate ye itni galat hai to
kaan pakad khada ho jaunga
par haske tum do baat kaho
to khushh bada ho jaunga
ps:
are o! aasman wale bata, is mein bura kya hai
khushi ke chaar jhonke gar idhar se bhi guzar jaayen!
Monday, 31 January 2005
Jack and Jill
The bihari version :-)
Jackwa aur Jillwa
Gaye upar Hillwa
Paani bhari ke waaste
Jackwa gir gawa,
uka khopdiya phoot gawa
aur Jillwa awat ludkan pooore raaste
ps:
Jack and Jill
went up the hill
to fetch a pail of water
what they did,
I don't know, but
when they came, they had a daughter.
Jackwa aur Jillwa
Gaye upar Hillwa
Paani bhari ke waaste
Jackwa gir gawa,
uka khopdiya phoot gawa
aur Jillwa awat ludkan pooore raaste
ps:
Jack and Jill
went up the hill
to fetch a pail of water
what they did,
I don't know, but
when they came, they had a daughter.
Thursday, 27 January 2005
I hate <b>IT</b>.
I just hate IT. IT always makes its presence felt when I least expect IT. IT always wants to be with me when the going seems to be very easy and pleasant. I never asked IT to be with me. IT is an unwanted nuisance. I would like to eliminate IT entirely from my life. Everyday, I pray to God that IT should disappear permanently. I am sure God will listen to me someday and will bring about complete destruction on IT.
IT spoils all the good things in my life. An immense amount of heartache - yes heartache, that is it, and nothing else - IT causes. If only I could strangle IT to death, crush IT, stamp on IT, mutilate IT, and dispose off IT, I would be happy.
If not, at least let me find a way to live normally even when IT is around.
Oh, just how much I hate LOSING!
IT spoils all the good things in my life. An immense amount of heartache - yes heartache, that is it, and nothing else - IT causes. If only I could strangle IT to death, crush IT, stamp on IT, mutilate IT, and dispose off IT, I would be happy.
If not, at least let me find a way to live normally even when IT is around.
Oh, just how much I hate LOSING!
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