Whatever.....

One Sehwagian Special

2011-12-08T17:53:00.001-08:00

Have you ever seen a baby elephant having a playtime in a jungle? If yes, it can be one of the most beautiful sight in the world. An innocent and yet abnormally brutal trashing of everything around itself. And yet it is so captivating that you don't realize hours passing you by. Something quite similar happened at Indore yesterday. But there was no elephant involved. Sehwag hit the ball on its merit. Most of the balls bowled had boundaries written on them. And he batted for 149 of those.

Para.. Para.. Paradise.. (image credit:cricket.yahoo.com)

I must say that I am quite an opportunist. I write about this man knowing that he has set yet another unassailable milestone that is quite likely to be held as the highlight of his career. No denying that. It should be. But there was something to this feat that made you wonder if Virender Sehwag transforms into something else when he comes out to bat. Sehwag is like a conglomerate of the different batsman that have lived through the ages and yet he is unlike any one. There are predominant shades of Viv Richards, Lara or Sachin, but he has his own style. As most will be singing his praises in the days to come, one will forget that Sehwag was never known for finesse. You hardly ever saw a late cut gladly racing past the second slip. But if you have watched him upper cut Shoaib, you realize that it was a real late cut played at a really fast speed. Sehwag is a man blessed with an amazing hand eye co-ordination. And the artist in him doesn't complete a painting over months or years. It just takes minutes. If he were a sculpture, he'd have probably sledge-hammered a David out of the Carrara marble. By the time you grasp the enormity of the task at hand, Sehwag has done it already and you are grinning madly ear to ear and clapping like a Mad Hatter.

To say that Sehwag wasn't in his best form when he decided to finally tick off this from bucket list would be wrong. You expect form from someone who plays with a pre-meditation. Sehwag is more of an artist. You may get your standard porcelain figurehead, no different from the next one carved out within minutes. That's a standard Sehwagian 30-ish for you before he holes out to the mid wicket in a tame fashion. The commentators congratulate the bowler for getting the "danger man" out. They don't realize that its Sehwag who proposes and its only Sehwag who disposes. On 5th Dec 2011, when India lost due to a very familiar top order collapse with Sehwag and Gambhir being dismissed for a duck, something struck hard. Sehwag felt the need to say this out loud. "The top order needs to make runs". And boy-o-boy.. Did he make runs the next time he came out to bat. That was a Michelangelo carving out a Pietà. A Sehwagian 219 on 8th Dec 2011.

But there will be detractors to his this feat. Some will compare it to but of course the Little Master's feat. SRT cleaved a mountain to show the way. Sehwag simply made a road there. To say that he broke Sachin's record would be wrong. He rebuilt it. And such a feat may be repeated only if you walk the road that Sehwag built. You will not be able repeat Sachin's feat. Such a man is yet to be born. But Sehwag's roadmap may help you get there. The West Indian attack, some may say, lacked the bite. Well, you simply couldn't get him out if he didn't want to. Such is Sehwag's persona. He dived to get back into his crease for god sakes.

And yet the delight in watching him bat was unparalleled. When Tendulkar approached the milestone, half the world was glued to their positions to maintain the balance of the universe. Sachin's feat was like watching a Alain Robert climb atop the Burj Khalifa. You wanted him to do it and you believed that he could do it. And yet, you never thought that it was physically possible till it happened. Sehwag's innings on the other hand was like watching Jake Shimabukuro play George Harrison's While my Guitar Gently Weeps on the ukulele. You know it can be done. But as you watch it being done, you wish it never ends. And when it does end, you feel blessed to have witnessed such a masterpiece. (The reasons why I drew comparison to such contrastingly different events was to avoid any clichéd references and also, to avoid getting entangled into superlatives.)

To see Sehwag hit such blistering knock is a sight to behold. And with the test series down under ahead, you cannot help feel that tingling sense of anticipation and excitement. But Sehwag is devoid of such, I am sure. As a wonderful article in Guardian put it: (complete article here)

"He doesn't have Gayle's shoulders or Jayasuriya's forearms or Hayden's pecs. He has none of the nervous intensity of Slater or the cross-eyed desire of Hayden. He doesn't really have the insouciance of Gayle or Barry Richards. He is instead an almost implacable little Buddha, soft-edged, calmly accepting of the fates, whether they swing for him or against.

If there is one player he is most like, it is Lara, in that he can hit unstoppably not just for hours but for days. It is they who have built monolithic scores most regularly. Yet Lara didn't open, and he often gave the first hour or so of his innings to the bowler. That has not been Sehwag's way.

His technique is not revolutionary, just thrillingly heightened. What is different about Sehwag is his mind, the way he sees the game. Essentially, he is free. Where tradition insists that the new ball and fresh bowlers and aggressive fields are threats, he sees wide open spaces, a hard ball that will fly off the bat."

Or as I see it, when you are fortunate to witness a miracle, experience it. Don't try to reason, relate or compare it. You may never live to see another of these.

ए आई, बघ मी कुठेये...

2011-09-29T23:51:00.000-07:00

(एक नम्र विनंती: या पोस्ट बरोबर गाणंही आहे.. वाचता वाचता हे गाणं ऐकलात तर लिहितांना झालेला आनंद तुम्हा पर्यंत मला पोहोचवता येईल, असा वाटतं..)

"मन्या.. बाहेर खूप पाऊस पडतोय.. आतच थांब.." असं म्हणत आई पटकन मागच्या अंगणात जाते.. लोणच्यासाठी वाळत ठेवलेल्या मीठ आणि तिखट लावलेल्या कैर्या ओल्या व्हायच्या आत तिला आत आणायच्या असतात.. तिचं ५ वर्षाचा ते पोर हे सगळं दाराच्या उंबरठ्यावरून बघत असतो.. आईनी सांगितलेला असता की बाहेर यायचा नाहीये.. म्हणून तो दाराला पकडून कधी हात तर कधी पाय बाहेर करून वरून पडणाऱ्या थेंबांना उडवत असतो..

एकदम पावसाचा जोर वाढतो आणि त्याला राहवत नाही.. आणि तो पळत घराच्या पुढच्या दारातून सटकतो.. आई बाहेर मांडलेलं सगळं घेऊन घरात येते तोपर्यंत मन्या कधीच गेलेला असतो.. आईला एका क्षणात लक्षात येत नि ती "मनु.. मनु.." करत समोरच्या अंगणाच्या दिशेनी निघते.. सरीच्या जोर चांगलाच वाढला असतो आणि अगदी ५ फुटावर सुद्धा काही दिसत नसतं.. तेवढ्यात रेडियो वर 'रंग दे बसंती' चं "लुका छुपी" लागतं.. मन्याला शोधता शोधता आईच्या कानावर शब्द पडतात, "लुका छुपी बहुत हुई.. सामने आजा ना.."

बाहेर मन्याला एका डबक्यात उड्या मारतांना एक मोठा बेडूक दिसतो.. मोठ्या मोठ्या उड्या मारत ते बेडूक बाजूच्या आंब्याच्या झाडाखाली एका फटीत लपून बसतो.. मन्या खाली बसून नीट बघतो की त्या फटीत इतकी जागा आहेच कशी की हे बेडूक त्यात बसू शकेल.. चिखलात माखलेले हात तो आपल्या ओल्या चड्डीवर पुसतो आणि वरती बघतो.. वरच्या झाडावर एक चांगला पिवळाधम्मक आंबा लागलेला असतो.. मन्या उडी मारून बघतो पण आंबा जरा जास्त उंच असतो.. रेडियो वर रेहमान गात असतो, "क्या बताऊँ माँ कहाँ हूँ मैं.."

आता आई मात्र चांगलीच धास्तावली असते.. "तेरी राह तकें अँखियाँ, जाने कैसा कैसा होए जिया." हे लताचे शब्द तिच्या कानावर पडतात तेव्हा तिचं अख्खं घर शोधून झालेला असतं आणि तिला पक्का आपलं कार्ट रस्त्यावर गेला असं वाटायला लागलेला असतं.. पदर खोचून ती चपला अडकवते आता घराबाहेर निघायला.. "चांगला मार खाणार आहे आता.. जाऊ नकोस बाहेर सांगितला होतं" असं स्वतःशीच पुटपुटते..

महाराज आता चांगले वरच्या फांदीवर पोहोचलेले असतात.. खालून उड्या मारून.. दगड मारूनही आंबा काही पडलेला नसतो.. आणि म्हणून स्वारी खुद्द झाडावर चढलेली असते.. चांगला ७ - ८ फूट वरती गेल्यावर मन्या खाली बघतो.. पानांच्या गर्दीतून घर दिसत असतं.. आणि अगदी दोन फुटांवर आंबा पण असतो.. आंबा तोडत असतांना त्याला आईचा आवाज येतो.. आणि तो आवाज देतो ,"ए आई, बघ मी कुठेये..." एवढ्या मोठ्या झाडावर एकट्यानी चढून आंबा मिळवलेलं आईला नाही सांगणार तर कोणाला सांगणार.. आईला मात्र आवाज येतो...

"कैसे तुझको दिखाऊँ यहाँ है क्या??

तेरे झरने पानी माँ... तोड़ के पिया है..

गुच्छा गुच्छा कई ख्वाबों का..

उछल के छुआ है.."

आईचा जीव जरा भांड्यात पडतो.. "असा नको रे घोर लावू मनाला", असं मनातच म्हणते.. "अजून लहान आहेस तू.. मोठा झालास की पंख फुलवून उडून दुर तर तू जाणारच आहेस.." झाडाजवळ जाऊन आई त्याला खाली उतरवते आणि खांद्यानी उचलून घरात घेऊन जाते.. पाय जमिनीला टेकताच तो परत धूम ठोकतो आणि आई दारात उभी राहून स्वतःशीच हसते.. रेडियो वर रेहमान आणि लता गात असतात..

यहाँ सब कुछ है माँ फिर भी..
लगे बिन तेरे मुझको अकेला...

ओओओओओओओ....

रे ग रे ग सा सा सा रे

रे ग रे ग सा सा सा प म प ग म ग रे

रे ग रे ग सा सा सा सा रे सा प म ग म ग रे

सा सा सा सा नी रे सा नी ध नी ध प म प ग म प

ध नी सा नी सा नी ध नी ध प म ग म ग रे

रे ग रे ग सा सा सा सा नी सा प म ग म ग रे..

रे ग रे ग रे ग रे ग रे ग सा रे नी सा रे रे रे ग रे ग रे ग म प ग म ग रे..

म म प ध म म प म म प ध म म प

प म प नी सा रे ग

रे म ग ग रे ग रे रे रे सा ग रे ग सा सा सा

नी रे सा नी सा प ध प म म म प ध नी सा नी सा

ग नी ध नी ध प प म ग ग म प ध नी सा नी सा..

आजा साँझ हुई मुझे तेरी फिकर..

धुन्दला गयी देख मेरी नजर..

आजा ना..

आजा साँझ हुई मुझे तेरी फिकर..

(रे प म ग)

धुन्दला गयी देख मेरी नजर..

(सा सा सा सा सा सा सा सा सा)

आजा ना..

(नी सा नी सा नी सा नी सा नी सा नी सा नी सा नी सा नी सा )

आजा साँझ हुई मुझे तेरी फिकर..

(नी सा रे रे नी सा सा सा..)

धुन्दला गयी देख मेरी नजर..

(नी सा रे रे नी सा सा सा..)

आजा ना..

(ता. क. : हे गाणं पहिल्यांदा ऐकून जवळ जवळ ५-६ वर्ष झाली पण एका आई आणि मुलामधला संवाद अजूनही तितकाच मनाला भिडतो जितका पहिल्यांदा ऐकतांना झाला.. आज याची एकदम आठवण यायचा कारण की काळ - परवा या गानकोकिळेचा वाढदिवस होता आणि अचानक मी "लुका छुपी" च्यावेळी बनवलेला एक व्हिडियो बघितला.. त्यात रेहमानच्या चेहर्यावरचे भाव एका लहान मुलाला आईसक्रीम दिलेल्या मुलासारखे होते.. त्या भावाला शब्दांमध्ये मांडायचा प्रयत्न केलाय.. एवढंच..)

विसर्जन

2011-09-11T06:33:00.000-07:00

दहाव्या दिवसापर्यंत घसा पूर्ण बसून गेलेला असतो.. कुठे ठणकतय आणि कुठे नुसतच दुखतंय हे पण कळत नसतं.. आज विसर्जन झाला की आराम करावा म्हणावं तर तो बॉस नामक प्राणी डेडलाईनच्या नावानी शिमगा करतोय.. पण अजून ३ तास तरी त्याचा विचार करायला वेळ नाहीये.. विसर्जन झाला की समान सगळं वापस करायचं.. उद्या कोणाला वेळ नसणारे.. ज्याची भांडी त्याला नेऊन द्यायची आहेत.. मागच्या वर्षी त्या आठवले काकूंचा पिंप हरवला तर अगदी दसर्यापर्यंत पिच्छा नाही सोडला.. बर्र.. त्यानंतर त्या नंदू कडून हिशोब करून घायचा आहे.. नाहीतर तो आशु नामक खजिनदार जीव काढेल.. असा काहीतरी डोक्यात चालू असतांना कोणीतरी कार्ट माईकवर अनाउन्स करतं, "राजूभाऊ, डीझेल संपलं.. जनेरेटेर कसा चालवणार?? दिवे बंद झाले सगळे.."

स्वतःशीच पुटपुटत तो मागच्या खोलीत जातो आणि मोठा प्लास्टिकचा ड्रम त्या सुधीर समोर आदळतो आणि म्हणतो.. "माहित होता मला जनेरेटेरसाठी तुम्ही काही करणार नाहीत ते.. हे घ्या डीझेल.. आणि लावा किती दिवे लावायचेय.." तोपर्यंत बाप्पा स्टेज वरून टेम्पोत "विराजमान" झालेली असते.. ढोल - ताश्यांचा रंग चढला असतो.. हे बघताच ती गुलालाची पिशवी तो उघडतो.. बाप्पांसमोर नेतो आणि मुठभर हवेत उडवतो... आणि घसा फाटेल इतक्या जोरात म्हणतो..

"अरे... एक.. दोन.. तीन.. चार..."

आणि सगळे एका स्वरात म्हणतात...

"गणपतीचा जयजयकार..."

मिरवणुकीत अगदी समोर होऊन नाचतो.. सकाळ पासून प्रसादाशिवाय काही तोंडात टाकलेला नसतं.. इतकी शक्ती कुठून येते हे ही त्या देवा गजाननालाच माहित.. आजूबाजूला आता सगळी जनता आलेली असते.. अगदी साठी ओलांडलेले पाटील काकांपासून ते लिंबू चमचा स्पर्धेत ३- ५ वयोगटात जिंकलेला रवी.. वाजत गाजत अगदी नदीपर्यंत पोहोचतात सगळे.. हा सगळ्या तरुण मुलांना पकडून घाटावर जागा वगैरे करतो.. मूर्ती टेम्पो वरून तिथे उतरवली जाते.. या वर्षीची शेवटची आरती होते.. नारळाचे छोटे तुकडे करून प्रसाद म्हणून वाटला जातो.. एका उत्साही काकूंनी आणलेले मोदकही मिळतात.. नदीकाठचे पोरं मूर्ती अगदी आतपर्यंत घेऊन जातात.. किनाऱ्यावरचे डोळे भरून बाप्पांकडे बघतात.. एक डुबकी.. दुसरी डुबकी आणि तिसर्या डुबकी बरोबर बाप्पा चालले जातात.. मंडळाचे नेहमीचे ५-१० जण उगाच नदीजवळ रेंगाळतात.. आणि मग एकमेकांकडे बघून हसू लागतात.. इथे शब्द अपुरेच पडतात.. भावना मात्र सारख्याच असतात.. परत येतांना सगळे अगदी शांत शांत असतात.. आवर-सावर करून एकमेकांचा निरोप घेतात आणि घरी जातात..

हा आपली स्प्लेंडर काढतो.. किक मारतो.. आणि निघतो.. वाड्यावरून अगदी २० किमी दूर आपल्या बावधनच्या आलिशान बंगल्यात मोटरसायकल लावतो.. बाजूला कोणीतरी ती कार पुसून ठेवलेली असते.. मेलबॉक्स बघतो... ऑफिसचे १५० - २०० अनरेड मेल बघून न बघितल्यासारखं करतो.. गुलालानी माखेलेले कपडे काढून ठेवतो.. अंघोळ करतो.. घरातल्या देव्हार्यात असलेल्या गणपतीच्या मूर्तीला साष्टांग नमस्कार करतो.. गेले १० दिवस त्या गणेश चतुर्थीला उतरवून ठेवलेल्या प्रोफेशनल मुखवट्याला पुन्हा एकदा चढवतो.. आणि बे एकं बेच्या दुनियेत राजूभाऊ नाही तर Mr. Rajan Khare, Market Policy Head, Citibank चे रूप धारण करतो.. आणि शेवटच्यांदा म्हणतो.. गणपती बाप्पा मोरया...

आणि मनात हसत गणपतीच म्हणतो... पुढच्या वर्षी लवकर या..

What did you do this weekend?! - Part I

2011-06-19T00:44:00.001-07:00

(The post may contain profanities..)

Well, I'm quite sure atleast 12 people will ask me this question every Monday.. "What did you do this weekend?!"And I would give them.. sorry.. pretend to give them an answer that may/may not be interesting.. And the bottom line is.. They don't really care.. Yes.. You read it right.. They don't give a fuck about what you did.. What they really wanted to tell you is that their weekend was more enjoyable than yours. A guy who stayed at home dozing off will tell you how fuckin' awesome his weekend was.. Yes, he'll describe the hottest chic he dreamt about and what not. Yeah, like I care. So, this is an imaginary Monday conversation that one would have:

Me: Good Morning, A. (Yes, that's all I say. Nothing more, nothing less)..

A/(A depressing 25 year old who plans to continue with the same job for 5 years atleast): Fuck Mondays dude.. Hardly good.. Why can't we have Monday in the weekend too, mann.. Blah, blah, blah, blah, some more blah followed by some more expletives.. I think I should work only on Tuesdays and Thursdays.. Blah, blah, blah.. 3 working days.. Thats it.. No more..

Me: (In my mind, where's the mute button when you need it, crap..) I swear mann.. Seriously boring.. Hey B, could you mail me that document that you were supposed to do on Friday?

B/(Boring Boring 30 year old guy who is only boring) : Sure mann.. So, What did you do the weekend?! (very excitedly)!!

Me: This and that..

B: (Without giving the most plagued rat's ass whatever you can give.. Btw, what do you give a rat's ass?). Ohh great.. I went to this amazing banana shaped restaurant that served raw naked bananas with live snails.. And you could eat the snails or just watch them crawl.. It was so exciting.. (That's what I hear anyway).. We should definitely go there sometime... Btw, I have sent you the mail (without the document.. Then another mail with the older version of the wrong document that you don't realize is wrong about an hour later).

C/(A really annoying 26 year old bitch who'd idea of growing with the company is flirting with the manager. And she is "seeing" someone, so she says): Heyyyyy!! Wassup fellas!! (Read losers/jerks who have no future..) Hope your weekend was good.. What did you do this weekend?! (She really want's to mock your style of enjoying but the tact here is that you don't give her a chance by saying something that wouldn't sound like enjoying even in Swahili)..

Me: I tried to drown the sound of my neighbour's flush with my gargling.. (Please, spare me the details of your weekend)..

C: I had the mosssst awesommmest weekend everrr.. I had my girl friends over and we threw huge boulders at each other crushing each other to death. What you see now are basically the zombie that I have turned into. (Now, A thinks this is hot and at the back of his mind, he's only thinking, naked pillow fight followed by some more naked pillow fights)!! (FYI, this girl naked would be a massive KLPD, imho..) But who cares!!

Me: Wow! That nice.. (Read STFU and do your job)..

Suddenly, a dour looking 35 year old manager pops up.. C immediately puts her cute smile on and says a mute hi.. (My thoughts here are "Die!! Bitch!! Die!!")

Manager: Now that you've all enjoyed your weekend, let me tell you how I would suck you blood this week! My apologies if you thought otherwise, but the senior manager has been cooking my brain (read brain storming) in fish oil this weekend over how we can automate the process of nuking Elbonia. The general consensus has been that we feed you with nuclear waste and send you there and you poop nuclear bombs!! C, however, (if only she would care to join me for a dinner with her) would assist me in preparing a 12 kb excel sheet..

(Part - II may not contain much more horrifying conversation with a 40 year old aunty, a newly wed couple, a girl in a LDR, the IT guy.. Or maybe it will)..

Happy Father's Day

2011-03-02T01:35:00.000-08:00

अलार्मचा आवाज झाला आणि तो पटकन उठला.. आईला "अरे ऊठ रे" आणि "तुझे पाच मिनिट होऊन अर्धा तास झाला" असा म्हणावं नाही लागलं.. अंघोळ वगैरे केली त्यांनी आणि नवीन टी-शर्ट आणि जीन्स घातली.. आणि आईला आवाज दिला, "मी जरा जाऊन येतो".. "अरे जरा काही तोंडात तर टाक.." हे आईचे शब्द संपेपर्यंत दार बंद झाला होता.. धावत पळत तो मंदिरात पोहोचला तो पर्यंत चांगलीच लांब रांग लागली होती.. "श्या.. जरा लवकर यायला पाहिजे होतं.."

रांगेतल्या आजी त्याकडे कौतुकानी बघत होत्या.. रांगेत त्याच्या सारखं तो एकटाच होता.. जीन्स आणि टी-शर्ट मध्ये तो चांगलाच उठून दिसत होता.. त्या सिद्धीनी जरा आज बघायला पाहिजे होता त्याला.. त्याच्या मनात असं आला आणि गालातल्या गालात हसला.. रांग अगदी हळू हळू हालत होती.. महाशिवरात्री म्हंटला की सगळे किती भाविक होतात.. ढोंगी म्हणावं की नाही असा विचार करे पर्यंत कोणी मंदिरात कोणी तरी "ओम नमः शिवाय" ची कॅसेट लावली.. आणि त्या धीरगंभीर आवाजात सगळे तल्लीन झाले.. त्याला वाटला उगाचच आपण त्यांना ढोंगी म्हणत होतो.. वेळात वेळ काढून आज हे लोक देवळात आलेत आहेत.. भक्ती आहे म्हणूनच..

चांगला तासभर झाला होता त्याला रांगेत उभा राहून.. पाय दुखायला लागले होते त्याचे.. गुरुजींनी "चला पुढे, रेंगाळू नका, लोक आहेत मागे" असा वेगळाच गजर चालू केला.. रांग जरा पटापट हलायला लागली.. त्याचा नंबर आला तेंव्हा अजून २५ - ३० लोक होते त्याच्या मागे आणि गुरुजींच्या पोटात कावळे "काव काव" करायला लागले होते आणि लोकांचे १०१ बेलपत्र संपत नव्हते.. त्याचा जेव्हा नंबर आला तेंव्हा त्याच्याकडे काही नव्हतं.. त्यांनी फक्त डोकं ठेवून नमस्कार केला आणि म्हणाला.. "हॅपी फादर्स डे..जास्त भांग पेऊ नका.. आईनी खास बेत केला आहे घरी.."

Lucifer's Story...

2011-02-18T10:08:00.001-08:00

Sometimes you are so unaware of the things around you that you miss them for good. And then you happen to stumble upon the same to realize your folly. This is not a story. It is not even an account. It simply is a song. I was watching the first episode of season 4 of Californication where a tune hit me. I thought I had heard it before but I wasn't sure when or where. A little bit of googling was required. And then I saw. There it was.

Its written by Mick Jagger primarily with credits including Keith Richards as well. The song is "Sympathy For The Devil". The Rolling Stones created this masterpiece out of a completely vague idea for a song. As Mick Jagger later said, "It started out as a folky thing like Jigsaw Puzzle, but that didn't make it so we kept going over it and changing it until finally it comes out as a samba." The beauty of the song cannot be expressed in words. You have to listen to it.

This has been covered by numerous artists, most notably and my favourite, Guns N Roses and Ozzy Osbourne. And as much as I say that I don't like to compare the covers by different artists, I must say that there is no beating the original one. But Ozzy's version comes very close. Infact some guitar pieces are so original that you'd think of this one as original. G 'N R are distant third. No wonder Slash called this song the Band Breaker. It just doesn't match GNR's standards and also the ones set by the original. But you may hear it nonetheless. It is a great rendition coz its magic with Axl and Slash. Take nothing away. And it did manage to reach #55 on Billboard's top 100. But relish the pleasures. And drink to Lucifer and lose yourself in the annals of time as the he saw it..

The Original (From the album Beggar's Banquet):

Ozzy Osbourne's Cover (From the album Prince of Darkness):

Guns N' Roses' Cover (From the album Greatest Hits):

Lyrics to the Original:

Please allow me to introduce myself

I'm a man of wealth and taste

I've been around for a long, long years

Stole many a man's soul and faith

And I was 'round when Jesus Christ

Had his moment of doubt and pain

Made damn sure that Pilate

Washed his hands and sealed his fate

Pleased to meet you

Hope you guess my name

But what's puzzling you

Is the nature of my game

I stuck around St. Petersburg

When I saw it was a time for a change

Killed the czar and his ministers

Anastasia screamed in vain

I rode a tank

Held a general's rank

When the blitzkrieg raged

And the bodies stank

Pleased to meet you

Hope you guess my name, oh yeah

Ah, what's puzzling you

Is the nature of my game, oh yeah

(woo woo, woo woo)

I watched with glee

While your kings and queens

Fought for ten decades

For the gods they made

(woo woo, woo woo)

I shouted out,

"Who killed the Kennedys?"

When after all

It was you and me

(who who, who who)

Let me please introduce myself

I'm a man of wealth and taste

And I laid traps for troubadours

Who get killed before they reached Bombay

(woo woo, who who)

Pleased to meet you

Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah

(who who)

But what's puzzling you

Is the nature of my game, oh yeah, get down, baby

(who who, who who)

Pleased to meet you

Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah

But what's confusing you

Is just the nature of my game

(woo woo, who who)

Just as every cop is a criminal

And all the sinners saints

As heads is tails

Just call me Lucifer

'Cause I'm in need of some restraint

(who who, who who)

So if you meet me

Have some courtesy

Have some sympathy, and some taste

(woo woo)

Use all your well-learned politesse

Or I'll lay your soul to waste, um yeah

(woo woo, woo woo)

Pleased to meet you

Hope you guessed my name, um yeah

(who who)

But what's puzzling you

Is the nature of my game, um mean it, get down

(woo woo, woo woo)

Woo, who

Oh yeah, get on down

Oh yeah

Oh yeah!

(woo woo)

Tell me baby, what's my name

Tell me honey, can ya guess my name

Tell me baby, what's my name

I tell you one time, you're to blame

Oh, who

woo, woo

Woo, who

Woo, woo

Woo, who, who

Oh, yeah

What's my name

Tell me, baby, what's my name

Tell me, sweetie, what's my name

Woo, who, who

Oh, yeah

Woo woo

Fireworks..

2011-01-09T05:23:00.000-08:00

And this is how it would end, he told himself. His comm set was shattered. But the box had saved his life. The shrapnel had punctured right through the circuit and just stopped short of his heart. A faint scratch to show how deadly it was. His co-ordinates had just gone through when the fresh round of attack started.
Vince was the last survivor of the scouting party that went on to check the new reports of insurgency in the Nad-e Ali district of Helmand Province in Afghanistan. The Hollywood directors would love to make a movie out of this, Vince thought. And in the movie, he'd survive to return back to his new born kid and loving wife. Typical American Hero. Not for Vince though. He didn't have a family to go back to and certainly no prospects back in Kent. They would welcome him and celebrate his coming back, if he ever did but only for the day would they call him their own. Vince, didn't blame them. It was his fate.
He was about 7 years old. His father had taken him to New York for Christmas. And as they stood on the George Washington Bridge, his father told him, "Don't look down. Just follow me. Now.." And just as he was about to look towards his father, he heard a crack in the sky. And sky lit up. The fireworks had lit up the Manhattan skyline and it was mesmerizing. As he looked for his father, he saw that he was all alone on the bridge and his dad was gone. Burst into a thousand of specks of light. The next few moments were a blur as he looked up to the sky to see where his father wanted him to follow. Not looking down even once. Suddenly there was a screech of rubber on the tarmac and someone stopped their car behind him. He was pulled back from the bridge and taken away. When he woke up, he was in a different home. It was Kent. But the people were different. They asked him if he knew where his mother was. He didn't have a mother he told them. They told him his father was no more. He said, he knew. He had seen his father burst into a thousand specs of light he says. And then they say no more..
As he grew up, he heard many a stories. They said that Vince Sr. had cheated many a good people and he deserved being cheated by his partners. And every time they saw Vince, it reminded them of his father, they said. They said that his father was a coward and had commited suicide. He laughed, every time they said this. But other than Kent, he knew no place where he'd like the people even if the people here didn't like him. And when they asked for young men to enlist in the Army, he finally saw a light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe this was what he had been waiting for. As so he did. He never said goodbye to the place where he'd lived for 25 years. Place which he loved and hated almost equally.
As he lay in that dusty square in that small little deserted town far away from home, all alone, he saw his father. "Just follow me", he said. The Apaches were approaching. He had to light the flare to pin point his location. But he was surrounded. There was no chance of survival once the militants saw him. And then he suddenly realized. As he fired the flare, he knew it. The cracking sound was heard. And the whole sky was filled with light. And Vince followed his father and the fireworks continued..

(This post was written a few months back. Behind Enemy Lines, 8 Miles and Hurt Locker were some of the movies I had seen around that time.)

साम दाम दंड भेद - सरकार

2010-10-09T10:50:00.000-07:00

One of my favourite off beat Hindi soundtracks..
One of the best usage of drums and lejhim..
And something about this song helps me block off everything else that's happening going around and create a sort of blank.. Surprisingly very calming..
(Just wrote down the lyrics as the song was playing. Very few sites seem to have the correct lyrics)


साम दाम दंड भेद| साम दाम दंड भेद| (x6) 
मन में अघन से भरे बोलो कहाँ जाए..
साम दाम दंड भेद| साम दाम दंड भेद| यह तृष्णा से भरे बोलो कहाँ जाए..
सरकार के द्वार पे जाके ठहर जाए..

साम दाम दंड भेद| साम दाम दंड भेद| (x3)

सरकार एक विचार जो माने ना..
जाने ना..
हाँ..

गोविंदा गोविंदा गोविंदा गोविंदा
साम दाम दंड भेद| साम दाम दंड भेद| (x3)

अन्याय के साथ में कैसे जिए जाए.. 
साम दाम दंड भेद.. साम दाम दंड भेद..
सरकार के द्वार पे जाके ठहर जाए..  
साम दाम दंड भेद.. साम दाम दंड भेद.. (x2)

सरकार एक प्रहार जो भूले ना
चूंके ना..
हाँ..

साम दाम दंड भेद| साम दाम दंड भेद| (x3)
गोविंदा गोविंदा गोविंदा गोविंदा
साम दाम दंड भेद| साम दाम दंड भेद| (x2)

Everything Man

2010-08-23T10:13:00.000-07:00

This is the 3rd song that I am writing and like the 2 before this, this sounds better in my head with all the music and not as a poem. This was written on the first day of my job as the HR asked me for documents after documents for verification. A sudden thought entered my mind. Like a red-horned dwarf (It was a dwarf with the boots and beard. Don't ask me why a dwarf!! ;) ) , it asked me a question, "When will these women be done with their demands??" It had nothing and everything to do with what was going on around me.
Btw, this song has a distinctive tone similar to Brian Adams's "The Only Thing That Looks Good On Me Is You". So, anyone enthusiastic enough to put a tune, or even try, can try that song.

Everything Man
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A knight in shining armor, yeah!!
Riding a big black horse..
With a big Excalibur by his side..
Picking her up for that long long ride...

Chorus:
She just wants him rich...
She just wants him tall...
She just loves his deep dark tan..
This woman.. wants an everything man...

A big billionaire in a merc..
Sipping on his vintage wine..
Buying her lots o' diamonds and lace.
And raining dollars all over the place...

Chorus:

A Mexican laddie on the beach..
Showing off his friggin' abs..
He says he's guarding the beach..
Oh, for him, you're such a leech...

Chorus:

Hey, pretty lady, I ain't done..
You want more but I have none..
A zillion more things you may need..
Is there no end to your greed...

Chorus:

You were there and many more..
I ain't Casanova but I've lost the score...
If you think this package is right..
Grab on to it n hold it tight...

You may want me rich..
You may want me tall...
You may love my deep dark tan..
Oh woman, you've lost your everything man..

Its me.. (x8)
(Chorus fading out in background...)
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अव्यक्त...

2010-05-23T12:38:00.000-07:00

जून महिन्यातली एक रविवार सकाळ असते.. तो ई- स्क्वेर बाहेर थांबलेला.. पहाटे पहाटे चांगला पाउस पडलेला असतो... त्यामुळे गावभर डब्क्यांचे साम्राज्य पसरलेले असते.. आताही भूरभूर पाउस पडत असतोच.. सिनेमा चालू होऊन चांगले ५ मिनिट झलेले असतात.. त्याला ट्रेलर्स गेलेले कधीच आवडत नसतं.. तेवढात ती येते.. रिक्षातून उतरून घाईघाईत येते.. आणि अगदी ओशाळलेला स्वरात सॉरी म्हणते.. "अरे, नळस्टोपजवळ गाडी बंद पडली.. मग ही रिक्षा करून यावी लागली.. त्यात हे आज काल लोक काही मागतात..". तो पण अगदी, "खरंय, या लोकांना आजकाल सवय लागली आहे मिटर पेक्षा जास्त मागायची". त्याच्या मनात, तिला आणल्या बद्दल तो त्या रिक्षावाल्याला १०० रु बक्षीस द्यायला तय्यार असतो.. कोणी दुसरा असता तर त्यांनी तिकीट सिक्युरिटी कडे ठेवून दिलं असतं .. पण ज्या करणासाठी तो सिनेमा बघायला आला असतो तिलाचं उशीर झाल्यावर कसला आलाय सिनेमा...
ती एका हातात मोबाईल घेऊन जॅकेट काढायचा प्रयत्न करत असते.. तो तिची बॅग धरून उभा असतो.. तेवढ्यात एक पाण्याचा थेंब तिच्या कपाळावरून तिच्या कानशिलेकडे यायला निघतो.. तो नेमका त्याला दिसतो.. तो आपल्या रूमलानी तो टिपणार तेवढ्यात मन नको म्हणतं.. आणि तो थांबतो.. मग तीच आपल्या बाहीने त्या मारामारीत तो थेंब टिपते.. "या पावसात म्हणजे ना एकदम चीडचीड होते बघ.." असं ती म्हणताच, तो "हे असं काही तरी प्लान नको करायला पाहिजे होतं ना??" असं तो म्हणतो.. "अरे नाही नाही.. तुला खूप दिवसात भेटले नव्हते.. काही झाला तरी मी आले तर असतेच रे..", ती म्हणते.. मनोमनी तो एक पटकन उडी मारतो.. "पण बाकीचे पण आले असते तर किती मजा आली असती नाही?" हे ऐकताच फुस्स होतो त्याचा.. त्यांनी बोलावलेलं असतं खरा सगळ्यांना.. पण मनापासून नसतं.. फक्त तिनेच यावं अशी इच्छा असते.. आणि आठवड्यातल्या एका सुट्टीच्या दिवशी बाकी लोक उठणार नाही हे पण त्याला पक्कं माहित असतं.. "हो ना, आळशी झाले आहेत सगळे" हे त्याचा कारणही काही खोटं नसतं.. पण खरंही नसतं.. लगबगीने ते शेवटी आपल्या सीट्सवर पोहोचतात.. सिट काही कॉर्नर नसतात.. असाव्या अशी त्याची इच्छाही नसते.. ती उगाच कॉन्शस झाली असती हे त्याला माहित असतं.. सिनेमा कुठला तरी असाच असतो.. त्याला बघण्यात इंटरेस्ट नसतोचं.. पण भेटायला कारण खूप चांगला असतं.. तो तिच्याकडे बघून अचानक म्हणतो, "अगं, आज खूप छान दिसतेय". ती हसून म्हणते, "ह्या लाईन कॉलेज मधल्या मुलींवर मारल्या असत्या ना तर आज माझ्या बरोबर सिनेमा नसता बघावा लागला". "त्यांच्याबरोबर बघायचा कोणाला होता?? जिच्याबरोबर बघायचा होता ती आहे ना आज बरोबर", तो तालात म्हणतो.. खरं असतं ते.. पण या वेडीला ते कळतंच नाही.. "मुंबईला गेल्यापासून चांगलाच फ्लर्ट करायला लागला आहे रे.." हा तिचा रीस्पोंस ऐकून त्याला काय बोलवा ते कळतंच नाही.. तो मग बराच वेळ तिच्याकडे बघत राहतो. ती सिनेमा बघत असते अन तो तिला.. तिला अचानक लक्षात येत आणि ती विचारते, "काय झालाय तुला आज?? असं काय करतोय?" "नाही गं, असंच.. मला जुने दिवस आठवले.. आय रिअली मिस यु!" असं तो पुटपुटतो... "अरे आपण रोज तर बोलतो फोन वर.. मग काय झालं?" तिला टेन्शन आला असतं.. या वेड्याला काहीतरी सांगायचं आहे हे आला असतं तिला लक्षात.. पण नक्की काय हे काही काळात नसतं..
तेवढ्यात इंटर्वल होतो.. पाय मोकळे करायला दोघंही बाहेर येतात.. तो पटकन कॅरामेल पॉपकॉर्न घेऊन येतो.. मूड जरा लाईट होतो.. "हे म्हणजे ठरलेला आहे तुझं.. इकडे आला की कॅरामेल पॉपकॉर्न आणि मग आईसबर्गमध्ये गेलोच पाहिजे ना??" हे तिचा ऐकल्यावर तो हसतो.. "मला इथले कॅरामेल पॉपकॉर्न खूप आवडतात" हे तिने पहिल्यांदा म्हटलेलं ती अलगद पणे विसरून गेलेली असते.. "आपण कितीवेळा यायचो नाही इकडे.. काही सिनेमे बघितले आहेत.. मुंबईला पण जातो का रे असंच सारखा सारखा? कॉलेज संपल्यापासून माझा पण कमीच झालं.. ऑफिस मधून आल्यावर इच्छाच नसते बाहेर निघायची.." यावर तो तिला हे सांगत नाही की कॉलेजच्या दिवसात पण तो खरं तर ती बरोबर असते म्हणून येत असते.. आणि ती पण तो बरीबर येणार आहे हे माहित असतं म्हणून असे काहीतरी प्लान बनवते.. ते परत आत जातात आणि उरलेला सिनेमा बघतात.. कॉर्नर सिटमधलं कपल बघून ती म्हणते, "काय रे?? मुंबईला तुला कोणी अजून भेटली कशी काय नाही.. की सांगत नाहीयेस!!" "अगं नाही गं.. वेळच नाही मिळत.. तुला नाही भेटला कोणी कंपनी मध्ये?" तो प्रश्न तिच्यावर पलटवतो.. "ह्या!! वेळ कोणाला आहे इकडे.. अभ्यासाला पण वेळ नाही मिळत नाही तर प्रेम वगैरे कुठे रे.. मला त्यापेक्षा हे असंच चांगला वाटता.. तुझा आणि माझा आहे ना.. तसं.. मैत्रीचं चांगली आहे.. उगाच अपेक्षा नसतात एकमेकांकडून" हे जेव्हा ती म्हणते तेव्हा त्याला आता काय बोलवा हे कळतंच नाही..
"अगं तुझ्या प्रेमात पडलोय मी, तुला कळत कसं नाही हे. कदाचित तू नसशील पडली माझ्या प्रेमात.. पण मी नाही असं करू शकत.. आपण सगळं शेअर करतो.. मनातला सगळं सांगतो एकमेकांना.. रोज फोन वर बोलल्याशिवाय दिवस जात नाही. तरी तुला हे कसं कळत नाही. तू असावीस सारखी जवळपास असं वाटत असतं.. अजून वेगळं असतं का प्रेम??" , हे त्याला म्हणता येतंच नाही.. कारण हे म्हंटल आणि तिला नाही आवडलं तर?? एवढ्या चांगल्या मैत्रिणीला आणि खरं म्हणजे आपल्या पहिल्या प्रेमाला दुखवायची हिम्मत नसते त्यात.. तिच्या विश्वासाला तडा जाईल असं करण्या इतका तो स्वार्थी नसतो झालेला.. त्यापेक्षा मनाच्या एका छोट्या कोपऱ्यात हे गुपित दडवून ठेवायची शक्ती देवाला मागतो.. सिनेमा संपतो.. दुपार झालेली असते.. "जेवायला घरी येतो असं आईला सांगितलेला असशील ना? काकूंना तेवढाच जरा मुलाचा सहवास.." हे तिचे शब्द कानावर पडतात.. तो पण, "खरंय, आईनी काही तरी मस्त बेत बनवलाय घरी" या ऐवजी तो "अगं नाही, मी बाहेरून खाऊन येईन असं सांगितला आहे आईला" अशी थाप मारतो.. "चल, वाडेश्वरला जाऊया.." असं म्हणतो.. "खरं ना?? पण मला फार भूक नाहीये रे.." हे तिचा वाक्य पूर्ण होईपर्यंत तो "तूझा अजूनही तसंच आहे, चल, करणं नको देऊ" हे म्हणत तो गाडी काढतो.. तिला मागे घेऊन तो जातो वाडेश्वर मध्ये.. मनात कुठेतरी बाळ खुश असतं.. कुठेतरी हे क्षण असेच फ्रीझ करून ठेवावेत असं वाटत असतं.. त्याच्यासाठी हे म्हणजे तिच्या बरोबर घालवायला मिळालेला अजून एक चान्स असतो.. तिला तिथून तो घरी सोडतो.. गाडी नंतर घेईन असं ती म्हणते.. बिल्डिंग मध्ये जाता जाता ती "असंच भेटत राहू आपण.. काही झालं तरी विसरू नको मला," म्हणून जाते.. "अजून काय हवाय तुला?" असं स्वतःला म्हणत तो गाडी काढतो.. आईला फोन करून मी येतोच आहे असं सांगतो.. पुन्हा एकदा सांगायचा राहून गेलं असं स्वतःलाच हसून सांगतो.. आणि घरी जातो.. काही गोष्टी अव्यक्तच चांगल्या असतात, हे परत एकदा स्वतःलाच पटवून देतो..
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या गोष्टीतला तो हा काही काल्पनिक नाही.. तो बराचसा मी आहे.. थोडा बाकीचे पण आहेत.. ती मात्र अनेक "त्या" आहेत.. अशा अनेक त्यांना मी बराच काही सांगू नाही शकलोय.. प्रेमात नाही पडलो सगळ्यांच्या.. पण त्यांना त्या किती माझ्या आयुष्यात महत्वाच्या आहेत हे पण नाही सांगू शकलो.. आणि आता ती वेळ निघून गेली आहे.. आणि मला वाटता की त्यांना नक्की कळेल, "how much they always mean to me"..

5 Drops from the Shower..

2010-04-22T12:07:00.000-07:00

As I turned on the shower today morning, I wasn't in any very thoughtful mood or anything.. In fact, I wasn't a least bit preoccupied. After a minute or two of those strong jets pinging me, I suddenly went into this state of suspension.. It was like I didn't hear any sound. Couldn't see anything. And then suddenly out of nowhere I focused myself onto these drops coming out of the shower. And I thought, what if these drops were something more than drops. Maybe a concise editions of our lives?? Just a thought..

So, there was this one drop that came and hit me hard and fast on my head. Buried was it in my head. Snaking its way through the foliage, it wet all those around it. And waited to be shaken off in sharp jerk of my head.
There was this other one, it landed on my shoulder. Then it waited there. Contemplating.. Unsure whether it should travel down the front or the back. Then seeing another option it decided to take that. It was down the side.. And it trickled all the way down to suddenly realize that it had reached the fingertip. There was nowhere to go now. The other two ways would have been much better. But now, there was no turning back. So it waited there. Waited there till the gravity pulled it from there to the ground or till the hand touched something else, by chance..
The third one jumped promptly on my nose. And then from the tip it again jumped off to only land on my chest. It ran down hurriedly, bisecting my body. It was competing with the others, I guess. It was probably the best path that would lead the drop down. And so it raced. And just when it looked as if none could capture it, it wen "bloop". Swallowed was it by the others lying in the cavity of my bellybutton. The competition was over. There was no winner.
The fourth landed on my back. It had none of the vague ambitions like the 3rd one. It wasn't even confused as to what it wanted to do like the 2nd one. It simply wanted to trickle along. The moment it had left the nozzle, it had realized that there wasn't a great deal of stuff that was expected. And it was just another drop. Nobody was going to remember what it had done. So it simply chose one of the bigger rivulets and merged with it. And thus it traveled all the way down to my heal and then to the drain like the millions of other drops with it.
The fifth one was the one that caught my attention. As it left the shower, it had a thousand thoughts and millions of plans. It wasn't going to be like any one of the other drops. It didn't want to land on the head and get lost in all those hair. It also didn't want to want to face the choices like the 2nd one and so it avoided the shoulder. It had seen what had happened to the 3rd drop and all its competitiveness. It felt that this was too childish and would never indulge in such things. The 4th one was a loser, it thought and it planned how it would never allow itself to become one of the many. As so it thought and so it planned. A perfect plan thought the 5th drop. But before any of those plans had even started to unfold.. Splat!! It hit the ground and exploded into millions of smaller droplets...
And I just thought as I came out of that trance, as millions of more droplets were hitting my already numb brain, which drop was I??

A void called Regatta

2010-03-19T22:10:00.000-07:00

And once again the Regatta approaches. The 82nd they tell me. I know i mumble. "Aren't you coming??", they ask. "Nahh, nothing special", I say. I tell them about the more important things that I have to do. And how the same shows get repeated every year. "But its different.." some tell me.. The 8er will be in water I hear. I do want to go. But I can't. I have moved on. Or so I tell myself. Not those petty politics and not the frustrating carelessness on the part of some. No I tell myself.

Savoring the fact that I won't be there,
I feel this unnatural pang of guilt.
It may not be about me not being there.
Maybe its the feeling that I seem to have moved on.

Others feelings seem to have taken over
I try to shelve these away.
And under the pretext of priority
Maybe its the thought I dont want to dream on.

I know I am not that kid anymore.
Its like water held in a hand.
Or a fistful of sand slipping away
Maybe its just the feeling that I don't want to linger on.

Somethings aren't supposed to last,
Or am I helpless to bring it back.
The mind is comfortably numb.
Maybe its the nostalgia that I don't want in my heart.

I will come back though. But not this year. Maybe 5 years down the line. When I feel differently. When I want to be a spectator. When I don't feel the urge to run down and hold the skull that comes back to the wharf so that I may go in next. Or when I don't compare their show with my show. I will cheer and I will shout. But as a spectator. As a proud COEPian who shows off his college and its heritage. Not as this crazy guy who spent the week before the show on a single refreshment and two hours of sleep a day and has timed and co-ordinated every move only to find out that things don't happen as they are planned.
The chief guest will definitely be late. Some alumni will create a scene at the entrance, probably an RS in his days. The crowd will exceed expectations and the sun will not set fast enough for the Telematches to start. The kayakers will put on the lights during PF to which the PFOs will object by flashing their torches. And the RMC will relish the success knowing that some classmate of theirs will have an issue with the seating arrangements the next day. Year after year and Regatta after Regatta, the same stories will be told albeit with a different setting. But not this year. This year and maybe the year after that. I shall pass. I shall cover the void and savor the vacuum. Nothing ever will fill this void, I know. But I don't want to fill it with anything else. Its like a wound that has just healed. I want these scars but the wound is someone elses to bear and protect and nurture. Its a dream for the 82nd year. But I want someone else to dream it. My heart is just too full....

I leave you with this amazing video that Chinmay, Sanika, Geeta, Shraddha and many more created.. (And I may have contributed in a teeny tiny way too...)
(The link just in case you cant see the video)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JZkposf6tlM

Afraid To Be Alive..

2010-02-16T09:06:00.000-08:00

As I read about the various articles and notes and comments and much more about the recent blast at German Bakery, I can only ponder about our imbecility as a society. The first wave of rage has now died down and we have relapsed back into our foam padded cocoons, oblivious to the fact that the war has now come to our doorsteps. Looking back at Pune 5-10 years ago, who would have thought that this city would ever be on the radar of an terrorist outfit. But that now is the truth. And yet we are here behaving as though nothing happened.
Many of you may argue that there was/is nothing that we could do to prevent it. Well if I even agree with that knowing very well that I myself have done nothing other than this stupid blog. But then why haven't I? Am I all dead inside. Does this not hurt me that a place like German Bakery that I never thought twice about going to has been devastated in a cruel blast? Will it be ever safe again? And what exactly am I doing by participating in a Peace Walk or a Candle March. Why the hell am I not proactive. Or for that matter, the society as a whole not protesting? For whatever maybe the reasons, USA vented their anger after 9/11 by destroying a complete nation and then proceeding to threaten others too. And the best that we Indians have done is to have a Peace process??
Why are we so cowards? Why are Kasab and Afzal Guru still alive? How the f*** does Farook Abdulla tell the Indian Government that hanging Afzal Guru have repercussions on the peace process in Kashmir? Isnt Kashmir in India? Why the hell is that stupid Aman-Asha crap still continuing? As for that matter, why aren't any of the political and social activists saying anything other than offering condolences? I didn't see any tweets from @iamsrk or @kjohar25 or some interview/mudslinging by Rajdeep Sardesai? Ohh, and where are Mr. Mahesh Bhatt and Mrs. Shabana Azmi? And I am not at all going political on this. But I would like to hear them say something right now. And I know that they wouldn't say anything now. If not, then why not ask them for some comments apart from their condolences now? The politicians will applaud the courage of the city and I think Mr. Sharad BCCI Pawar already said something similar. He seemed more concerned about not being blamed for the gross negligence on the part of some members from his party. And while Mr. Ashok Khan was so busy providing 25% of the police force to a stupid movie, 9 innocents lost their lives. As for ShivSena, are you happy now?
I'd like to see these people face death. Let them tell us to be peaceful then. I am scared now. I am truthful. I don't feel safe in my country. I reassure myself every time I leave the house, that I will be back safe. No its not me alone. Its everyone around. The fear is self evident. And its completely natural. But behind that fear is the look of helplessness. The feeling that anybody can come into my country and blow me to bits and I won't be able to do anything. To be really frank, the people of Mumbai got back to business the day after the 26/11 incident or Ghatkopar blast or the one before that not because they were brave. They are living the days that are left before some other bomb blows them to pieces. There is no bravery in that. Each of us is dying a little inside every time we hear about the blast.
If it were upto me, there would be no friggin peace talks with anybody till we have gotten our answers and our convicts. Yes, Mr. Chidambaram, the country needs answers more than it needs peace. Give us some answers. Ask Pakistan and their puppet presidents to handover the convicts to India. Ask them the necessary questions and then hang them if necessary. Mr. Sardesai and the rest of you media clowns, we aren't interested in what Kasab had for dinner. I'd love to see him stoned to death rather than nibbled on your stupid network as a juicy piece of meat. And as for the common Indian in me, I'd like to see him getting more angry. Yes, our anger can/should be well directed n all the balderdash, Mr. Tharoor, but let us get angry before that. Let us be angry for those 9 who died without a reason. Yes, there death had no honour. And there is none in any of those who died in all the countless attacks. Let us be angry that there was none rather than being sorry. Let their lives not be comparable to those tiny insects that get crushed everyday. We'd like some action Mr Prime Minister. The talks have gone on long enough.
I am not saying that we should jump and start warring with everyone and anyone. But yes, show those Pakis that every life in this country in as precious as the next. Let not the deaths of these people or the efforts of the police/servicemen that have been toiling endlessly be wasted and filed into some cabinet. We would like to be safe in our country atleast. Can we hope for that? Or do we even have to be afraid to be alive?

Dreamer

2010-02-10T09:00:00.000-08:00

This is the second song that I am writing. The first one was "The Lonely Christ" which I still hope to record with a music and all.. But till then another one. This one is yet again inspired by POTF and Metallica. But somehow I have tried to use my ideas and cliches. Hope you like it..
I don't think you'd appreciate it without the music that I have in mind but you could always suggest anything that comes to your mind.

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Still frames,
Flashing through my mind..
I don't know,
Of what kind..
Flashing memory,
How can I be so blind??
So I keep them...
Buried up inside....

I'm dreamer..
I am not so frail..
I'm a dreamer..
Rumbling down this rail..
I'm a dreamer..
Searching for my grail..
I'm a dreamer..
Burning up my trail.. (2x)

Killing box,
Right across the street..
I feel it..
Can you feel the heat??
I'd kill..
But I cannot even beat..
So the thought remains..
Buried up inside...

I'm dreamer..
I am not so frail..
I'm a dreamer..
Rumbling down this rail..
I'm a dreamer..
Searching for my grail..
I'm a dreamer..
Burning up my trail.. (2x)

Alone I am..
And alone I shall be..
Do not care..
I'm stuck inside of me..
Worthy ones,
Only can but see..
The dead soul,
Thats buried inside of me..

I'm dreamer..
I am not so frail..
I'm a dreamer..
Rumbling down this rail..
I'm a dreamer..
Searching for my grail..
I'm a dreamer..
Burning up my trail.. (2x)

Feeling,
or is this just a line??
Is this a thought?
Or is this just a rhyme??
I can say,
That I aint even mine...
So let it rest
And let it rot in time..

I'm dreamer..
I am not so frail..
I'm a dreamer..
Rumbling down this rail..
I'm a dreamer..
Searching for my grail..
I'm a dreamer..
Burning up my trail.. (3x)

The Unsung Ballad of A Soldier

2010-02-09T20:48:00.000-08:00

I wrote this poem after watching a wonderful movie based on the life of a US marine who is sent to Iraq for bomb disposal. The movie is The Hurt Locker by Kathryn Bigelow. A really touching movie. And somehow it inspired me to write this poem. Its just a few lines that came to my mind. Hope you like it as well.

The Unsung Ballad of A Soldier

I watch this wave flow over me..
And as is washes me away..
I look at the distant shore,
And the sky so dull and gray.

The war that never was ours,
But yet were forced to play.
They scarred us for life then
As we trudged the dirty foray.

Thousands we killed and slayed
And as we watched them die.
A battle I waged within myself
To answer the question why?

The question had no answers.
But answers were never true.
The country that had sold us,
Like a group of circus crew.

Save our country said the general
In his chair high and gold..
They fought the battle tooth and nail
For the general bribed and sold

The rainbow had lost its color
It was painted brown and yellow.
The only color red was seen
On that last bleeding fellow.

This death has no meaning..
And the life had none at all..
A bag of skin and bones..
A tattered and ragged doll

I was leading only a shadow..
A distant ghost of me..
As the sun turned it pale..
I let it go and free..

Deaf are my ears now..
And blurred is my eyesight..
The bones are nearly broken..
The scarecrow watches my plight..

My heart slows down now
And tires my blood no more..
I live the distant past though..
Telling self stories of lore..

Of Soundtracks...

2010-02-08T20:49:00.000-08:00

Well this comes as a funny afterthought to me but I really like the soundtracks played in the various series and often find myself searching for these as soon as the episode is over. Most often I have no clue whatsoever about the origins of the song, the artist and sometimes even the genre. (I am hopeless at distinguishing the genres of pop and for that matter don't quite get who all are included in Alternrock. But whatever..) So as I thought to myself about which of these have the best soundtracks in their episodes, I thought I might as well make it a competition. Soon it turned out that many of the series that I watch or have watched have one or two good soundtracks but most aren't that consistent. Many have a brilliant opening theme but nothing other than that.
So as I listed down my favorite TV shows in the order of their music pieces, I realized that Scrubs and House MD were the top favorites. I know, FRIENDS still has its own standing but none are close to the two. And yet it earns a third as there are really very few who could pull out something like With or Without You. I can still picturize Ross and Rachel in the Museum when I listen to Chris Isaak's Wicked Game. Sitcoms like The Big Bang Theory(TBBT) have excellent comic sense and acting but are zero when it comes to the music. Same applies to Two and A Half Men. HIMYM and Boston Legal have excellent pieces too. Especially Barney doing his jigs once in a while or Robin Sparkles from HIMYM are excellent but are still far off when compared to the two up there. This earns it a 4th spot. Similarly the jazz in Boston Legal is way too good but its just that there is much of Alan Shore and Denny Crane that cannot be expressed through the songs but their dialogues. Hence a 5th position for Boston Legal.
Californication and Prison Break take the 6th and 7th spot in the list. Both these have a brilliant opening theme but not that effective music backing. Though I like some of the Californication soundtracks simply because they express everything that the dialogues couldn't. Especially the ones after Hank Moody's recurring screw-ups. Prison Break season 1 and 2 had some excellent music pieces composed by Ramin Djawadi and the brilliant opening theme gives you a tingling sensation.
So here is the final list of the serials:
[There was a tie-breaker for the first and second spot that I will be covering later]
7. Prison Break
6. Californication
5. Boston Legal
4. How I Met Your Mother
3. F.R.I.E.N.D.S.
2. Scrubs
1. House MD

I don't think its any coincidence that both these serials are based on medical background as none other could ever encompass the varied human emotions and characters as these have found in their hospitals. Boston Legal comes close to such moments but the directors chose to capture these through the cigar and scotch talks between Alan and Denny. The tie breaker was based on some of the best music pieces that I could recall from each show:
First the opening theme:

House MD's theme - Teardrop by Massive Attack

vs
Scrubs's theme - Superman by Lazlo Bane
Winner - Superman

Then come the top 5 tracks from each of these series

House MD

Lose You - Pete Yorn
Gravity - John Mayer
Dark Road - Annie Lennox
Baba O Riley - The Who
What A Wonderful World - Louis Armstrong

Scrubs

Overkill - Colin Hay
Collide - Howie Day
Another Day In Paradise - Phil Collins
Book Of Love - Peter Gabriel
Hallelujah - John Cale

Winner - House MD

But what really steals the show is the piano pieces by Hugh Laurie that are often seen at the end when he is sitting all alone in his house and the leg and heart are hurting.
Hence the winner is House MD

[Disclaimer: These selections are based on the writer's choice and the writer apologizes if he has missed any more wonderful pieces in any of these serials. The writer does not claim to have done complete study of each individual serials and the music played in each. Finally, he would enjoy and appreciate if you could bring them to his notice.]

The Hand That Rocked The Cradle

2010-02-06T09:27:00.000-08:00

Of late, I am addicted to the likes of AC/DC, Deep Purple, Eagles, Dire Straits, G N R, Scorpions et al. As for the likes of Pink Floyd, there is no past, present or future... They simply are omnipresent in this mirth of physical reality. And of course, I cannot forget the ones that baptized me to this religion. Metallica and Iron Maiden. Of Megadeth, Children of Bodom, and opeth, I shall not write here as the list of rock genres and famous bands from each simply cannot be contained in a small post. I am not writing here any thing close to a comparison or an appreciation of any one artist but the rock genre as a whole. There have been many well accomplished writers who can make a more learned and experienced opinion and have done so too. So this as i write, is simply my way of saying "For those about to rock, we salute you!!" \m/

Imagine this. You come home on a tired Wednesday evening. The day has been a bad one/tiring one. You lie on your back and your ipod is playing Pink Floyd's Comfortably Numb. I can assure you that there is not drug in this world that can soothe you better than this. Let Aerosmith's Dream On take over from where they left. As you waft slowly into the world of emptiness and oblivion, I'd suggest you follow it by Eagles' Tequila Sunrise. As you start coming back to this world of rat races, you'd be tempted to play "Coming Back To Life " by Pink Floyd. But you should resist it. The Floydian music is like a drug. It can only enthrall you and you'd hate to come out of this concert. But you can surely indulge in a little Metallica. Nothing Else Matters would have you hate your boss and job but as Treebeard said to Pippin, "Don't be hasty!!"

To be truthful, a perfect day for me would be like this playlist,
(A very few songs are being listed down. Actually 7 for morn, afternoon, evening and night. These are the ones that are popping in my head as I list them down. These are what I am currently listening to though not as a playlist but rather in shuffle mode. These definitely do not include all my favorites as I try to contain the number for the purpose of brevity. The reason however is at the bottom of the list.)
Morning starts with:

Sultans of Swing - Dire Straits
Like A Rolling Stone - Bob Dylan
American Pie - Don McLean
November Rain - Guns N' Roses
Aces High - Iron Maiden
For Whom The Bell Tolls - Metallica
Smells Like Teen Spirit - Nirvana

Something for the afternoon:

Rock 'n Roll Train - AC/DC
The Unforgiven - Metallica
Smoke on Water - Deep Purple
Take It Easy - Eagles
Jaded - Aerosmith
Blood Brothers - Iron Maiden
Pigs On The Wings - Pink Floyd

As the sun heads down the horizon:

Different World - Iron Maiden
Sweet Child Of Mine - Guns N Roses
Who Made Who - AC/DC
Jaded - Aerosmith
Nothing Else Matters - Metallica
Stairway To Heaven - Led Zeppelin
Wish You Were Here - Pink Floyd

And as you lay on your bed waiting for the sleep to take over:

Imagine - John Lennon
Wind Of Change - Scorpions
Soldier Of Fortune - Deep Purple
Hotel California - Eagles
Patience - Guns N Roses
Dream On - Aerosmith
Coming Back to Life - Pink Floyd

As I contained myself from including all the songs from a single artist or an album for that matter, I realized how much these people have given us. Imagine the cheering for your teams without We Will We Will Rock You!! I mean these artists have really transformed the music world. It would be a really bleak picture if we were stuck listening to only the pop or hip-hop for that matter. Bleak indeed. So every time you sway your head to that beat and feel your feet tapping involuntarily, raise your hands to those who rock!

The hand that rocked the cradles definitely went on to rule the world. But if William Wallace meant mothers that was only because he never heard the ones that continue to rock our cradles and more so, our souls!!

Seems like the links in the comments aren't working.
So including PJ's and Vedang's 5 in the post.
PJ's 5:

Chop-Seuy - System Of A Down (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3voawEb6Xgw)
Elevation - U2 (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=19KstSgU-c0)
Saints Are Coming - U2 & Green Day (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=seGhTWE98DU)
Baba O'Riley - The Who (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x2KRpRMSu4g)
With Or Without You - U2 (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XmSdTa9kaiQ)

Vedang's 5:

Piece of my Heart - Janis Joplin (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=01X8z42_9_U)
Venus in Furs - The Velvet Underground (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AwzaifhSw2c)
All Along The Watchtower - Jimi Hendrix(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RD7s4i_X-p0)
I've Just Seen A Face - The Beatles (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SbKGsEK_T9g)
Gimme Shelter - The Rolling Stones (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LJMnES7WoT4)

The Game

2010-02-05T09:16:00.000-08:00

As Ian approached the bar, he was greeted by the usual clamor. He sat at his usual corner and raised a finger. He knew Carlo had seen him. The usual, Carlo would understand. The town on Linnville was a good town to stay. It wasn't a quite place and there were people coming in from all directions and going further. Most traveled further west but there were a few who had returned from there as well. The best thing about this town was that one could stay unnoticed. And this was what Ian was looking for. There was a sense of security.
He wished he could light a Julieta, but that would draw too much attention. No, it was one thing to be known and it was another to be well-known. A Romeo y Julieta in a local bar would definitely raise a few eyebrows. And Ian knew Ramos too well to do any such thing. Ramos, he knew, was still looking for the gold. And Ramos had ears all over the place. The guitarist was good today. His fingers seemed to be gliding on the strings. As Bella got him his drink, she did not greet him with her usual charm today. She seemed a little tense, which was surprising. Isabella, he'd seen was oblivious to any tension even when bullets were flying around the bar. But today was different. Sensing something wrong, he quietly checked his gun. It was there. As he lit his regular cigarette and sat blowing smoke rings, his mind wandered. It wasn't until the chair across the table was pulled that he noticed the eerie silence that had filled the bar. Everyone seemed to have cleared the place. As he slowly raised his hat and peered from below it, he saw him. Across the table sat his nemesis. The last face that he wanted to see in this goddamn world. Ramos.
The drink was getting warm. A drop of water condensed on the outer side trickled down the side and sweat down his brow. He knew that there would be no clean exit now. Ramos however seemed to enjoy cagey Ian like a rat in a corner. Ramos was grinning face to face. Placing his revolver in the centre of the table, he said, "I wanna play a game!!". Ian knew well, which game. The Russian Roulette that Ramos played. And always survived. Ramos said he was charmed but Ian knew better. It was Ian who had been with Ramos when Old Harry had this revolver made for Ramos. The game would be quick, Ian knew. It would end when the 6th click wouldn't be empty. Ramos said he loved to watch his opponent fire into his own brain knowing the inevitable. He would then promptly raise a toast to the dead. It always would sound "Hail, the victorious dead!!".
As Ramos emptied the barrel and then put the single bullet in, Ian began to realize. Carlo, the bartender. He knew it was Ian. He had sold Ian. Or wait, was it a trap that Ian had walked into. A trap so cunningly laid that the rat never realized it till it snapped his head off. With all the possible places covered, Linnville was the only place Ramos knew Ian would go to. Carlo and Bella had been the first ones to welcome him. They had lent him the room upstairs. Ramos's trap had been subtle. There was no flaw. The Spanish guitarist was playing a slow tune that Ian knew all to well. It was Jorge. Ramos's right hand and Ian's best friend. Or so he was, till Ian decided to make a run with the gold. He knew Ramos wouldn't find it too difficult to get it with Ian out of his way. As the revolver clicked the first 4 times, the bar stood still. They were empty. The 5th time, as Ramos raised the gun to his head, Ian wished something failed. Or atleast the gun fired and the trick failed. But the empty sound reverberated through the entire bar. It sounded like a death knell. Or so it was. Ian now cradled the revolver in his hand. As he pressed the metal into his temple, he could hear his breaths. They were slow. His finger slowly started increasing the pressure on the trigger. Any second now, he said. And then it came. BANG!!
Everyone stood still and shocked. Jorge looked hard and didn't move an inch as Ian slowly raised the glass and said, "Hail, the victorious dead!!". As Ian walked out of the bar with his revolver ready, blood oozed out from a hole in Ramos's forehead. The shot had been accurate , Ian thought. A perfect game, he said to himself. Ian's game. It never had any rules!

Screw You, Its Better This Way ..

2010-02-04T09:00:00.000-08:00

Someone kicked a tin can down the road. Or so he thought. That was what woke him up. So he told himself. As he propped himself up, he reached for the table lamp by his side. Then he remembered. She was still sleeping. "Ohh, crap!", he muttered. This was not him. He never woke up in the middle of the night. It was always in the morning. The girl would wake him up to kiss him goodbye. A few occasionally made him breakfast too. They'd leave after he promised them that he would call them later that morning. And he never did. Ahh, the charmed life.
But this was different. As he lit himself a cigarette, he saw the moonlight filter through the curtain and on her bare back. She looked different. Sexy different. Yes, She was. And she was intelligent. Mann, chics with brains!! He liked those kinds. Dumb blondes were to be found in plenty. But finding a girl who knew her drink was a kind of a catch. This one definitely knew hers. But it was not only that. She was not those filthy rich kinds too. She said she worked in some big law firm. She wasn't much of a clinger for that matter. She didn't ask him questions and he asked her none. A perfect pick for a one night stand. He picked her up from one of his regular joints. It was the first time she had come there she said. Some colleagues of hers had dragged her there she said. He saw her ordering a single malt for herself and he was intrigued. They went back to his place for a nightcap as they always did. But the next morning she didn't leave her cell number for him to call. He didn't bother.
Two days later she met him at one of his restaurants. She was arranging a farewell party for her boss she said. His business was well served. He usually didn't stay back for the parties to get over but he did that day. The client was a big firm, he told himself. They both stayed back to discuss business and then for a drink. This was not what he usually did. He never took a girl back to his pad twice. But he wasn't doing it on purpose. He never went after girls. Never.
A brawler brought him back from his trance. He got up carefully from the bed and poured himself a Courvoisier. He needed to look at the picture from a different perspective. For the better part of his 40-ish life, he was screwing around and avoiding anybody that came remotely close. Not that he hated any part of it but he was starting to have second thoughts about it. So as he stood at his window, he thought she was the one he could discuss this with. After all, it had been thrice now that their paths had managed to cross. Maybe destiny was pointing out something to him. So he carefully pulled out a writing pad from his desk and wrote a small note. And slipped it into her bag. He didn't want her to notice it in the morning. She should think about it before replying, he thought. She would, he knew. This felt good. A little relaxed, he went back to the bed. As he pulled the comforter back, he adjusted it over her back that gleamed blue in the moonlight. She is one beautiful lady he thought as he went to sleep.
The next morning as he got up, he realized that she had gone. As he poured himself coffee, he smiled at himself. She must have read the note by now, he thought. Grabbing the morning newspaper, he went to his desk. On it, he found another note. Or was it the note that he had written, he didn't know. Cursing himself for forgetting such an important thing, he opened it. But it was her hand-writing. The note was short. It only said,
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thanks for all the magical days here.
I shall be going back to London today to get married...
I now know that this isn't a life for me.
Thanks for making me realize that. I needed it.

Yours truly,
...
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Lizard Of Oz...

2010-02-03T23:38:00.000-08:00

Hey guys. I'm Trevor. The common Aussie Lizard. I am the original baggy green whatever the two-legged may call themselves. I usually am not that vocal but I've been recently reading newspapers. (Well some us do read newspapers). So I came across some hooligans in my country. So I decided to write to all my fellow pals in India. Incidentally, they are called pals even there. There is no need to get worried unnecessarily there. All your brothers, sisters, sons and daughters are safe here. The hooliganism comes from the two-legged twats and SOBs who are of well, origins unknown and untold.

So as I was saying, there have been no casualties among the general Indian Lizard community here, in Australia. As the head of CITAK (Centre for Insect Transmigration Across Kangarooland), Dr. Mak Adee said yesterday, that the recent attacks on the Indian two-leggeds was a disgrace to the country of the Jumpees. I recall my great grandfather Trevor telling me this story, a famous legend in the lizard lore, about the Dumping of The Two-leggeds. It is about the last stand of the Lizards and the legendary Lizard of Oz. (He was later dubbed as the Wizard of Oz by the two-leggeds and made a two-legged just to save their sorry arse in front of their kids.) But the point is that this happened when loads n loads of two-leggeds were dumped by some other two-leggeds. Some said that these were bad two-leggeds. Some said they were unwanted. Some said they were diseased. But the two-leggeds were arrogant still. They wanted to grab hold of every little thing that they wanted. Greedy little scums they were. Biting, breaking, killing and burning. So the lizards decided to fight them. The old timers were strong and brave at heart.
The geckos led the first attack. It is said that Hitler got the idea of Blitz Krieg from us but he never did accept that. The monitors and the crocs laid a perfect siege while the skinks started penetrating into the two-legged ranks. Soon there was utter chaos among them. We capitalized on this and proclaimed our victory. The two-legged pleaded and begged at our tails and so we allowed them to stay. But, liars that they were, they soon started attacking us. First they went after the crocs. Hacking and killing them and making stupid purses and bags out of our brothers' skins. Next they barricaded all the monitors and said that the monitors were dangerous to humanity. As soon as they started coming for us, Lord Draco, rose up. He was the finest of the the Frilled Necks.
It is said that the Victorian English dresses started having their dresses designed with frilled neck after our war. As again two-leggeds never give due credit. Back to the story, such was Lord Draco's wrath that soon the two-leggeds started betraying their own so that they themselves could be spared. The two-legged's fled like they always did and asked for mercy. The Originals i.e. the two-legged's who were here before the scum came from outside intervened. They laid down some rules for the the new-comers and restored harmony. Lord Draco was a wise ruler and the land prospered. Lizards grew from wall to wall, in every crack that could be found. The land was a happy place to be. All the lizards swore allegiance to this Lizard of Oz. And though he has now passed away, we are now living here in quite some peace.
But scum are as scums always will be.They continue to gnaw the flesh of the bones from the hands that feed them. Much like the Orcs of Isengard. (Don't be surprised. Even we read good literature. :) ) The Originals are now reduced to mere spectators with the passage of time. The time now approaches when the wrath of the Lizards shall befall these scum once again. Too long have we allowed them to grow and flourish and watch them hack and hew down everything that was dear to us. The day is not far when they will once again tremble at the site of our tail and flee at the sound of our approach. The only way that these shall be allowed to live will be with the fear of the whip. Live with it or leave shall be the rule of the land. I sincerely believe that they heed to the warnings and mend their ways. Though I am not so certain. Nor are they. Because, we truly are the soldiers of Lizard of Oz.

Ants - The Downfall

2010-02-02T21:46:00.000-08:00

Firstly, apologies for the delayed posting. You see, the ants were just too many.. Jokes apart, I've been distracted for the last few months with some project work and online gaming to really concentrate on the more important things in life. But coming back to the topic, I'd like to continue from where I left it, though the thread is long broken...(Here is what happened earlier and here is why I are still blabbering)
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As I woke up in the morning (I guess it still was), I sensed this unnatural activity in my room. After some blurred moments while I got my specs on, I saw that. It was unbelievable. The ants that I had so painfully executed last night seemed to have called for aid. It was as if every ant in the vicinity had come to my room. They were just everywhere. After some shock filled moments, I just ran out of the room. I ran as fast as I could till I finally reached that place. The only place I knew that could save me. Yes and No. You are right, I was out of my mind and no, I did not run to the nearest Shiva temple as the Hindi movie heroes of the bygone era did. I didn't ring the bell over and over again and curse the Gods for their grave injustice. I simply went to the hostel store..
With no prior experience of this menace, I had to rely on my references, namely television and the one and only "Mamma Mia". (I mean, mom and not the movie which is really wonderful according to me featuring all the old ABBA songs.) Back to the point.. I simply asked the storekeeper to provide me with the magic wand/stick which would blow apart this anthill that had taken over my room. (I imagined myself holding a wand shouting Reducto!! (so much for the harry potter in me, specs and all..)). Anti-climaxing it.., I simply bought "Laxmanrekha"!! :) :D
After having bought this, a thought passed through my mind. If the real Laxmanrekha could keep Ravan out, my Laxmanrekha should atleast work against the ants.. So began the painful process of extermination. I am pro-life but sometimes you just have to kill. (If I were a general in a war, my words would be quoted over and over again. But alas..) So as I carefully cleansed my laptop and table and everything covered by the little red and black creatures killing them in the process, I felt bad. I mean, ants have been on planet longer than humans right?? But they've failed so miserably to consolidate. That's exactly what I feel about the English cricket team. Anyhow, after the whole charade and the carnage in my room, I sat down and planned my next move. Canny though I may sound, I actually planned where all I would be marking the boundaries. I mapped the possible sorties for the ants and plugged them with some powdered Laxmanrekha. The more I planned, the more aghast I was. Finally I ended up marking around the whole table, bed, cupboard, door, window and possible any place that I hadn't marked yet.
The room now looked like a Std. II classroom where the teacher had forgotten a box of chalks. The ants, I hoped, stayed out.
But don't worry. This was just the beginning of the end. I hadn't won against the hormigas. I had simply provided them with a challenge. They promptly came up with more ingenious ways to foil my attempts to keep them out. So began the period of co-existence or as I later realized, my downfall. I simply boxed myself in my own room. I kept my belongings in my box and dared not interfere with formiche. They came and went and minded their own business and so did I. Well, you see, co-existence is not that difficult. Only one side must realize that it simply cannot win against the opponent. [How I wish Pakistani generals read my blog. ;)]

Ants - The Dream

2009-07-12T11:58:00.000-07:00

For those of you who are reading this directly, I suggest that you read this before. This will give you a hang of my unneccessary ranting. :)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hardly had I fallen asleep, that I heard a weird scratching noise somewhere in the corner of my room. It seemed to come from the unearthly hollows. It was distant in time and distant in space. I knew I was dreaming. (Or I thought so). I was looking onto a site that made me feel giddy. I was standing on a cliff and on the plains below were thousands and thousands of ants. Their leader stood besides me. I was handcuffed and gagged. The leader was blurting out an inspiring speech. It reminded me of Morpheus giving that blasted speech on Zion. Or better Saruman giving those Orcs at Isengard. It felt like some morbid episode in life. The leader announced that he was gonna drop me from the cliff into the crowd to be hacked to death for the crimes I had commited. (I wish Kasab is thrown down like this). I could hear the millions and millions of ants shout out "YeeHaw" in their tiny squeky voices. So large was their number, though, that it souned like a death knell. But like Gulliver, I was huge. I tried to make a run. The ants swarmed up and covered me up. But braving the opposition, I trudged on. I made a run for the tap so that I could wash them, but LO & BEHOLD. The ants poured out of the faucet as if they were water. So I ran to the shower to find them pouring out of each pore. I was stunned. I guess it was a "Petrificus Totalus" charm that hit me. And I fell. I could see the ranks and ranks of ants marching towards me. And I lay there watching them move menacingly towards me wielding their ungodly scimitars, I could only do one thing. And I did it.
I opened my eyes.
As I opened my eyes, I saw that the sun had risen and it was day already. I was feeling weary after the exhausting dream. So as I rubbed my eyes and got up to brush my teeth, I felt some uneasy activity in the room.
Read on fellas..
The journey is far from over..

Ants - The Dawn

2009-07-11T13:11:00.000-07:00

As I trudged along the lonely corridor to my room after a nice party, what I really wanted was to just fall on my bed and drift into a blissful dream. But fate, I suppose, had other plans. As I opened the door and switched on the light, the sight just stopped my breadth. My laptop was simply covered with red ants crawling all over them. The laptop looked exactly like those honey bee record holder people. The ants were just everywhere. On the keyboard, on the screen, inside the speaker, inside the cd/dvd - drive, USB port, just everywhere. I was shell shocked for a few seconds. It was 12.30 am and I was simply not going to get any house keeper to help me clean it up. And it looked as if no HIT would be available at that hour. Armed with a single rag to my disposal, I began mopping the line of ants to my laptop. Simultaneously I also started tapping the laptop to remove any more that may have ventured in. This seemed to take longer than usual as the ants had seemed to make my laptop an anthill. They were just pouring out. I got a bucket full of water and starting mopping and dipping till all the visible ants had gone. A few peeping out of my speaker holes were promptly crushed under my brutal wrath!!
Now this was not done in a jiffy. It was nearly 2-2.30 when I thought that the work was done. I must have killed about a thousand ants. 3 brave Ferrero Rocher's succumbed to the gruesome injuries. So after a horrendous post-midnight cleaning, I finally flopped on to my bed and fell asleep.
But this was not over..
So read on fellas..
Film abhi baki hai!!

Bloody Old Hometown..

2009-07-03T23:58:00.000-07:00

Just last week I'd gone to Nagpur for a family function. For those who are unaware of the fact, I hail originally from Nagpur having lived for my first 6-7 years there. After that I've not been there quite often, my last visit being 3 years back, which I term decent.But I hate to say that everybody else there love to differ on this point. Now incidentally, both my parents had lived there for their first 30-35 years and my grandparents nearly their entire life.
So when you go to such a place where nearly 40% of the town is related to you, about 60% have seen you learning to walk and talk and approximately 80% think they can recognize you as you resemble your parents, you are at complete loss. Its like your made to stand in the middle of a circle of about 100 people all with fully loaded paintball guns. And so it was. I was standing in the middle of people/relatives (I couldn't figure out who's who) at my cousin's wedding. Another cousin who does stay in Nagpur was introducing me to these aunts and uncles and more aunts and many more uncles. Now if this looks ok to you, figure this out. The cousin is younger than me by 6 yrs and was getting atleast 60% of the relations wrong. If I were to be convinced by his A is B's son who is also married to C's third cousin. But C is infact D's granddaughter who in turn was married to A's nephew on her mother's side, I would resemble a Homer Simpson with hair of Albert Einstein. The family tree was so messed up in his head that he ended up making his own grandfather and mother cousins.
So I was actually alone in this whole mess. Lucky for me (??) there were no pretty lasses around to observe yours faithfully bewildered and lost. Once I even ended up asking the bride's only brother to get me a glass of water. (I thought he was MY (far fetched) cousin!!) But barring that the missiles were often mistimed and I was easily able to duck most under the pretense of some errand. I often found myself wondering if I would even meet these relatives again till someone else got married or died.
As I tried to remove this thought from my mind, something strange happened. I met my granny's sister. She is 80+ and as I knelt down, I suddenly realized that this was the real family. There was this glow in her eyes that said, "Rohit, its been really long since you've come to meet me. Its so wonderful seeing you!!" As I sat down besides her, we talked about me, my doings, my well-being, it struck me and it struck me hard, that these were the people who cared. It does not matter if you've met them only twice or thrice in your entire lifetime. It does not matter if they were there to see you successful. It even does not matter if their petty fights and arguments create a distance be tween the families for the time being. They will be there for you. It will be there faces that will light up if they see you after a long long time or even hear about you. If you do well, you will be quoted as an example or will be bragged about.
The hospital where you were born will then seem so familiar. The lane where you rode your tricycle will certainly be remembered and you will visit it in your flashy vehicles now. The local grocery merchant's crinkled face will crack a smile with remembrance and you will feel at home. You cannot stay there, you know, but you will linger aimlessly. You will loiter around your first playground even though there is a building there now. Why is a question you will not answer. They call it hometown not because you've lived there but because you will always feel at home there.
Bloody Old Hometown...
They make you all senti...

Did they really care about him??

2009-07-03T22:11:00.001-07:00

I have been pondering over this for the past few days and finally have decided to post it. Well as the title may suggest, its about the King Of Pop and the his passing at just 50. (I could never believe that). The long awaited "Return" shall be a forlorn memory and we shall never see The Moonwalker again. May his soul rest in peace..
I have often tried to make this point but somehow it often goes unnoticed. The artist is the performer on stage and not the person. The individual is often made as a complete artist. His every move taped and every breadth recorded. A normal person would go mad at this dogging but the artist has to endure this. And we often say this, "This is the burden a celebrity has to bear". But if we ponder, does he really have to?? Or is it just that we want him to?? And we've lost some of the best people in this world. Diana ran away from it and so did Heath Ledger. The world was shocked when Elvis did it and it is shocked again as MJ did it again. We killed the Kings.
Even as the doctors pondered over his already mutilated body for the second autopsy, the bees started buzzing. Marie Presley quipped in to say how he was in bed while Debbie Rowe broadcasted how Jacko was not the father of his own children. Madonna cried her eyes out or so she claimed but none realized what or who forced him to do this. They say he did not want to resemble his father or that he was a pedophile. I say, does it matter?? Does it really matter whether he had a drag before he did "Billie Jean". Or whether he did care about the kid when he performed "Remember the time". I mean, what is it that's so fascinating in their personal life that we waste millions of dollars putting them paparazzi behind these people for every nugget of their not-so-otherwise-amazing-lives??
Though some may criticize me, I am often a bigger fan of MJ's songs than his dance. Dunno why but somehow his dances are unreal and often seem nonhuman. My favorite being "They don't really care about us", maybe sums up MJ's life. People didn't care about MJ. The only thing they cared about was a news article. May it be a boy wonder gone to waste. A pedophile. A father dangling his own kid out of the window. The multimillion dollar out of court settlement. His idiotic surgeries. And last but not the least, his shocking death on the eve of a comeback. Whatever maybe the case, I am sure MJ knows these people really didn't care about him...
The last rehearsal for the comeback show were maybe his last thoughts indeed..

Rainfall Indian....

2009-06-20T03:46:00.000-07:00

I am writing this just as the sky is getting really dark here. Its just 4.15 pm. And I'm listening to the wonderful Colonial Cousins singing away Rainfall Indian. And as I recall some of the wonderful rains in the past, I thought I'd share it with you. Some random rainy days that I vaguely remember..

Snap back about7-8 years back when it would rain in the afternoon. We would rush from the classroom to the school bus and by the time we got there, we'd be completely drenched.
(The bus was sky blue and navy blue then)

The books would be soggy and so would our shoes be. But we'd jump in every puddle that would come our way back home.
:)
The media player has just switched on to Shobha Mudgal's "Ab ke Sawaan"..
A fast forward then takes me back to just last year and a few of us crazies went on this trek to Rajmachi. It was raining for the whole night prior to it. And it rained the whole day too. A hell of a trek and a hell of a journey. We walked from Lonavla station for about 4-5 hrs to reach the summit to find that we could not see a thing due to the heavy rain. A wind so strong that it blew the rain drops upwards. I remember being so wet that I didn't have a single square inch of dry cloth to dry my specs. What a trip it was...

(Pic: Courtesy Chinya)

When we came back, our legs were so stiff that we all walked out of the train onto the Pune Railway Station and walked to our vehicles like zombies
:P

Later the same year, I recall this ride back from Chinchwad, when the rain started pouring in and the highway was comparatively empty. And I was speeding on my bike at about 90-100 kmps. Excellent. My visor and specs were covered with water so couldn't see a thing. Back of the mind, I was thinking, "Speed thrills but also kills" but the hand on the accelerator probably got it this way, "Of all the things that kill, speed also thrills!!" I remember that ride when none believed that i'd reached home from Chinchwad in 2o mins.
No pic to share the wet highway..
Oh and the player was blaring out Iron Maiden's "Rainmaker" while I wrote this.

I slip back a few years, probably after my third year, an evening on BC. The wind was stormy and suddenly it turned all dark. I swear, I saw waves rising in the otherwise sullen waters of Mula river. I rushed back from the first steps in Shirke, I think to find Dattu mama all frantic at the wharf and BS hollering from his favourite corner. As we got the diamond out of the water, it started pouring. I rushed back to get the oars and when I returned to the BC office to get my clothes, someone (Saku or Shantanu, i supp.) was listening to Enigma's Rain Song just as I'm listening to it right now.
[For others, Shirke is one of the white diamond sculls at COEP Boat Club, Dattumama is our very dear boatmen there and BS is Balusheth, the foreman. The first steps is one of the signature lookouts when rowing in Mula]

Slipping back a few more years, it was probably my 12th and luckily Moogat had given us a rare holiday from the 4 O'clock class. I was peacefully lying on my bed reading my then recently coveted Lord of the Rings and probably everyone was battling at Weathertop while it was pouring cats and dogs outside. Mom got me this nice cup of tea and a plateful of "kaanda-bhaje". Radio Mirchi was playing Ghanan ghanan from Lagaan.
I paused very briefly to search that song in the playlist before continuing further. :)

Finally, coming to an end as the drizzling here has started and I hope it does rain a bit more today, so that I may enjoy my first first rain in Mumbai. The media player has reached the last song which incidently is one of my fav rain songs by Sandeep Khare and Salil Kulkarni, and which is सरीवर सर...
Enjoy it, while it lasts...
Adios...

Of Nostalgia And Enthu

2009-06-02T10:53:00.000-07:00

This post was earlier called "Nostalgic Me.." but after a series of events described after the main draft, I decided to name it "Of Nostalgia And Enthu". Read on..
The main draft:
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I am usually not a real fan of forwards but this forward was definitely an exception...
Sent to me by Shrirang Joshi I am merely copy pasting it here..
Nostalgia was never expressed more beautifully. Yes I say this even after having read the most senti mails and messages.. Its not senti enough to drown you..

जस्सं च्या तस्सं (एक अनामिक कवी)

जस्सं च्या तस्सं राहील का सारं?
हाक नुसती ऐकून थांबेल का वारं?

धपाट्याबरोबर मिळतील का आईच्या हातचे पोहे
रिझल्टवर सहीसह बाबांचा प्रश्न काय हे?
सहलीच्या आदल्या दिवशी उडालेली झोप
आजीबरोबर लावलेले पाहिलेवहिले रोप

ती दीड रूपया भाड्याची सायकल
ब्रेकडांस व मूनवॉक करणारा तो मायकल
खंद्यावर दिसेल का अदिदासची ग बॅग?
अन् मानेला रुतेल का नव्या शर्टचा टॅग?

आवडती छत्री हरवेल का परत ?
मोडतील का बेत आल्यावर ठरत ?
शाळेतील मैत्रिण मारेल का परत हाक ?
मिळेल का कधी खिडकीजवळचा बाक ?

ऐन सुट्टीत हरवेल का पत्त्यांचा कॅट ?
आऊट झालो कारण चांगली नव्हती बॅट
होईल का टीवी ब्लॅक अँड व्हाईट चा कलर
पाहिल्यावर एकदम चोरेल का ती नजर

आईस क्रिमची टिंगटिंग ऐकून पळतील का पोरं
शेंगदाणेवाल्याकडे मिळतील का बोरं
जस्सं च्या तस्सं राहील का सारं?
हाक नुसती ऐकून थांबेल का वारं?

पण जसंच्या तसं काहीकाही राहत नाही
थांबवायला गेलो वारं तर वादळ आल्याशिवाय राहत नाही

धपाटा मारण्यासाठी का होईना पण वाटतं
की आई जवळ हवी होती
अन् दरवाज्यातल्या मोटारीपेक्षा वाटतं
की जुनी सायकलचं बरी होती
आदिदास असो वा रामदास असो आजीच्या हातच्या लोणच्‍यापुढं
सारं काही दास आहे
त्याचीच आठवण येऊन आज
मन मात्र उदास आहे
आठवणींच्या ह्या सावल्यांकडे मी आजकाल पाहत नाही
थांबवायला गेलो वारं तर वादळ आल्याशिवाय राहत नाही

पुर्वी छत्री हरवली होती आता छत्रही हरवलं आहे
प्रेयसीला लिहिलेलं पहिलंवाहिलं पत्रही हरवलं आहे
पावसाच्या प्रत्येक थेंबाप्रमाणे
तिची छबी नवी होती
नजर चुकवण्यासाठी का होईना
पण ती जवळ हवी होती
एरवी मुसळधाळ पावसात चिंब भिजणारा मी
आज पावसाच्या वाटेलाही जात नाही
थांबवायला गेलो वारं तर वादळ आल्याशिवाय राहत नाही
काळ बदलला वेळ बदलली देश बदलला वेष बदलला
नाती बदलली माती बदलली तरीसुद्धा तरीसुद्धा
मन काही प्रवाहाबरोबर वाहत नाही
खरंच... थांबवायला गेलो वारं तर वादळ आल्याशिवाय राहत नाही

Thanks, Rangya for sharing it..
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The events:
Initially Rangya had mailed me this poem as a forward.
I promptly copy pasted it as an image on this blogpost.
Later Vedhas told me that none could be seen.
I was a bit pissed and in a mood to delete the post before he asked me write out the whole thing.
Now writing a post in Devnagari is a little cumbersome for me atleast. I decided to postpone it till I saw Chinya's blogpost where he's written a whole poem in Devnagari. I asked him if he wrote the whole thing in blogger to which he replied yes. Such was the enthu that was generated that I started writing it in Blogger. I soon realized that Blogger failed to get a word like बॅग and insisted on calling it बैग. So I googled it up till I stumbled across this site: www.quillpad.in. It is quite wonderful and userfriendly and eases up the job pretty much. So this is it. It came out woderfully, I hope. Thanks a lot Vedhas, Chinmay and well Quillpad...
:)

My bit of The 21st Century Breakdown..

2009-05-20T08:58:00.000-07:00

I'm writing this immediately after listening to the Green Day's latest Album 21st Century Breakdown. The album is worth the wait. It is an excellent collection of songs ranging from the soft melodious verses that remind you of "Wake me up when September Ends" from American Idiot to "Good Riddance (Time of your life)" from Nimrod to some surreal kickass typical Green Day trademarks. But if some of you are thinking that it may be a repetition or resemblance to the old classics, you are in for a big surprise. The list of the songs is as follows:

Introduction:
1. "Song of the Century"

Act I: Heroes and Cons:

2. "21st Century Breakdown"
3. "Know Your Enemy"
4. "¡Viva la Gloria!"
5. "Before the Lobotomy"
6. "Christian's Inferno"
7. "Last Night on Earth"

Act II: Charlatans and Saints:

8. "East Jesus Nowhere"
9. "Peacemaker"
10. "Last of the American Girls"
11. "Murder City"
12. "¿Viva la Gloria? (Little Girl)"
13. "Restless Heart Syndrome"

Act III: Horseshoes and Handgrenades:

14. "Horseshoes and Handgrenades"
15. "The Static Age"
16. "21 Guns"
17. "American Eulogy" (A. "Mass Hysteria" / B. "Modern World")
18. "See the Light"

The album starts with a simple voice recorded “Song Of the Century”. Even as we wonder at what these guys are aiming at, the roller coaster ride begins. As we tumble down the rabbit hole, the feelings seem to come rushing towards us with a multitude of expressions.

Act I: Heroes and Cons:

The second song sets the mood with the over-criticism of the past and the frames that we’re being forced into. This has a similar tone to American Idiot but this time the band goes into the first person approach instead of mocking others. The lines

My name is no one
The long lost son
Born on the 4th of July

are pretty catchy. Maybe the reason is self-evident. The next song “Know Your Enemy” is pretty strong and actually has a clear warning call as a message. I’ve heard some calling it pretty brash on first hearing but it seems quite punk-ish to me. The next song is the real beauty of the album. “Viva La Gloria” gets us back into reality with introducing the girl, Gloria around whom the whole album is loosely revolving. The start is almost R&B but wait, the real mood sets in the third stanza. The beat is so catchy that you have to start beating it within the next 10 secs. This Viva La Gloria sure will be one of the highlighted songs of the album. The start to the next song, “Before the Lobotomy” reminded me of Limp Bizkit’s “Behind Blue Eyes” till the slow tune starts picking up. Many seem to have rated this as their favorite in the album but the repeated rise and fall can seem a little repetitive to some. The next song is unnaturally short. “Christian's Inferno” seems to be intended to introduce the second character Christian and maybe give us a little piece of his mind. The last song of Act I, “Last Night on Earth” is one of the most beautifully written romantic songs. The song is straight without any clichés. The best part of this song is the pace. It stays the same throughout the song and leaves you humming it long after you’ve heard it.

Act II: Charlatans and Saints

The 8th song of the album “East Jesus Nowhere” is quite similar to Jesus of Suburbia but more direct. The song has this nice marching tune that tries to signify the war between belief and faith in God. The “Peacemaker” has a tune that you would have you jive if you could. The sarcasm is wonderful and you can’t help but smile at the line,

Well now the caretaker's the undertaker
Now I'm gonna go out and get the peacemaker.

The next song, “Last of the American Girls” paints a pen picture of the ordinary contemporary girl. The dreams and fears, the fakery and the mockery are well crafted. The overflowing sarcasm is however more than necessary at points. The song, however, that follows, “Murder City” is the real delight to most Green Day fans. Those who’ve liked “She’s a rebel” from American Idiot will surely like this. Every time they utter the word, “Desperate”, the song adds another start in its rating. ? If you are still lost within the “Murder City”, “Viva La Gloria (Little Girl)” will simply blow you off. The masterpiece signals the start of the best part of the album. The song is so straight from the heart that it simply leaves you dumb struck and this essentially shows you how all songs in the Act II were tied together. The line “Stray for the Salvation Army” comes and you are like, “Whoa guys, chill!!” And all those who thought that Green Day was about the rebel and self-mockery, the last song of Act II “Restless Heart Syndrome” comes as a sweet surprise for them. The song has a rather compelling music. You wait for the rush to come after the drum-roll but it never comes. And when it does come in the end, it simply carries you away with the avalanche.

Act III: Horseshoes and Handgranades

And if you thought that you had heard it all, Act III brings you the best of Punk and Alternate by Green Day. The first song of this act, “Horseshoes and Handgranades” successfully creates the same feel and anticipation that is created by “Holiday”. It’s like Barney saying wait-for-it and if you do wait here, you are rewarded. The initial drum-roll and pauses with the strumming is exquisite. The kick ass style of Green Day’s lyrics is at its best here. This is one sure trademark Green Day from this album. And if you thought that it couldn’t get any better, you are mistaken. “The Static Age” is the most energetic song with the most original sound pieces. It reminds of none that you can have heard before but there is nothing non-Green Day-ish about it. The lines,

All I want to do is
I want to breathe
Batteries are not included..

and the chorus,

I can't see a thing in the video
I can't hear a sound on the radio
In stereo in the static age

are so wonderfully done that this is my pick from the whole album. You simply can’t get over this one. But this is not all fellas, if you were waiting the single where you seem to lose it all and bow down to the these Kings of Punk, then this is it. “21 Guns” is such a soulful track that you simply close your eyes and feel that this is about you. The lines

Your faith walks on broken glass
And the hangover doesn't pass
Nothing's ever built to last
You're in ruins.

seem so true. It has the same rendering that Linkin Park had in the “In Between” from “Minutes to Midnight”. It’s simply yet another masterpiece by Green Day. “American Eulogy” is the second last of the album of 18. The song has the so familiar multiple song combination that was in “Jesus of Suburbia”. This single has two pieces "Mass Hysteria" & "Modern World". The first part is so upbeat, that it simply brings you out of the “21 Guns” feel. Some may feel this to be against the flow, but then it’s quite catchy. The second part is the “American Idiot” of this album in this single. The criticism and proclamations are quite crafty. A good single but I somehow felt it out of place. The song is placed so maybe to bring the story of Christian and Gloria to the tipping point where they have seen it all and this song just shows how they are bogged down. The last song brings the Grand Closure to the album. It simply shows the world from the perspective of a couple (or youth) and the simply expectations from it. The song is non-clichéd with simple straight feeling asking for our reason to be alive.
And the best part of this whole album is that all songs are well interlinked with overlapping music so that album listeners like me can really here it for the whole 65 mins continuous and yet each single stands out on its own. This album is one top class performance from Green Day where each song is worth hearing. None seem unwanted or extra. This is definitely an album worth the 5 years wait. Thanks to all those who bore with me to the end. It was wonderful talking about each song. Hope you have liked it. If yes, do comment on your favorites. Any criticism will be graciously accepted (Unlike Rafa Benitez)….

What's In A Name...

2009-05-09T10:41:00.000-07:00

When Juliet said,
"What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet." (More can be found here)

She was probably so deeply in love that she quite didn't realize that it does make a difference...
Imagine calling a rose bullcrap.. I mean then it will smell dung and not so rosy..
Without digressing from the topic any further, I will tell you why I am still harassing you still with this mundane talk. So this is it. I just came across this application on Facebook which was, "What is your Russian name?". Those FB users interested may find it here. I took this out of inquisitiveness and found out that there were more of this kind. So like a maniac, I went on checking the other types till none remained. So this is the list of all my names. They are quite hilarious actually.

Russian Name - Maksim Andreev
Scottish Name - Nevin Macpherson
Mafia Name - Joseph The Bull Costello
German Name - Franz von Schwartz
Italian Name - Marco Romano
Superhero Name - The Acrobatic Mime
Japanese Name - Rokuemon Ichijo
Hawaiian Name - Keoki Akuini
Naughty Elf Name - Evil - Genius Elf
Cajun Name - Jean Pierre Bourdeau
Online Name - CutePalms74
Monster Name - Rohit the Twisted Hook Nosed Smuggler
French Name - Jacques Desmarais
Garden Gnome Name - Jolly FlatFoot
Leprechaun Name - Tight Fisted O'Reilly
Gambling Name - Rohit 'High Roller' Pundlik
Rock Band Name - Lottery Thermodynamics
Pirate Name - Captain Small Beard of the pirate ship Rusty Bottom
Hobbit Name - Bodo Puddifoot
Cowboy Name - Tex 'Whiskey' Raintree
Smurf Name - Nasty Smurf
Clown Name - Lollypop BigFoot the Clown
Star Wars Name - Jan Dodonna, Rebel general
Ninja Name - Foolish Ninja
Mexican Name - Jose Espinoza
Redneck Name - Dwayne Jackson
Presidential Code Name - Unicorn
Hippy Name - Charity Eclipse
Easter Bunny Name - Mopsy Lemondrop
Star Trek Name - Krell, A Klingon
Vampire Name - Goethe Mordant
Soap Opera Name - Romeo Harriman
Earth Name - Reef Moonlight
Royal Name - Prince Rohit the Talented
No So Care Bear Name - Procrastinator Bear
Witch Name - Anastasia the Drunk Witch
Cute Name - Moopsiecuddlepook
Teddy Bear Name - Lovely Wooly Ears
Earth Name - Reef Moonlight
Real Name - Rohit Pundlik

These aren't the only ones. There were more but you can't really blame me for not feeling curious enough to know my stripper name. [:-)].
Taking into consideration some more requests here and away from here, here is a list of few more names... (And yes, the app. team improved the list with more sensible options).

41. Native American Name - Napayshni, meaning strong or courageous
42. Chinese Name - Guozhi Hu
43. Mr Men Name - Mr. Nonsense
44. Goth Name - Recared the Strong
45. Aztec Name - Totoquihatzin
46. Gypsy Name. - Loiza, meaning Renowned Warrior
47. Your Binary Name is - 1010010 1101111 1101000 1101001 1110100 1010000 1110101 1101110 1100100 1101100 1101001 1101011 (I'd be like that guy who doesn't remember his own name :P)
48. Your Celtic Name is - Callum Campbell
49. Norse God or Goddess Name - Heimdall, God of Light
50. Prank Call Name - Roy L. Paine
51. Latin Name - Hadrian Baccus
52. Dutch Name - Devries Van Der Straaten
53. Spanish Name - Pedro Augusto
54. Dragon Name - Manasa the Dragon of Fertility
55. Disney Character Name - Alice from Alice in Wonderland
56. Simpsons Character Name - Birchibald T. Barlow Radio talk show host
57. Roman God or Godddess Name - Pluto, God on the Underworld
58. Swiss Name - Flavian Zuelle
59. Egyptian God or Godddess Name - Khepri, The Scarab Beetle God
60. Polish Name - Andros Mazur
61. Brazilian Name - Cavalcanti
62. Peanuts Character Name - Woodstock, Snoopy's best friend
63. Irish Name - Finley Ryan

No i cant be inspired enough still... [:P]

And the Reds go Marching on on on!

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

I am just Crtl + C ing and Crtl + V ing the United song from some random lyrics page..
Such was their brilliance yesterday that i've been listening to this song for the last 8 n 1/2 hrs in loop while doing some other equally stupid stuff(No jokes).
So I just thought I'd post it here.
You can actually feel the blood thumping down your veins and arteries.
These are the words followed by the video...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Glory glory Man united,
Glory glory Man united,
Glory glory Man united,
As the reds go marching on on on!

Just like the busby babes in days gone by,
We’ll keep the red flags flying high,
Your gonna see us all from far and wide,
Your gonna hear the Messes that sing with pride.

United, Man united,
We’re the boys in red and we're on our way to Wembley!

Wembley, Wembley,
We're the famous Man united and we're going to Wembley,
Wembley, Wembley,
We're the famous Man united and we're going to Wembley

In Seventy-Seven it was Docherty
Atkinson will make it Eighty-Three
And everyone will no just who we are,
They'll be singing que sera sera

United, Man united,
We’re the boys in red and we're on our way to Wembley!

Wembley, Wembley,
We're the famous Man united and we're going to Wembley,
Wembley, Wembley,
We're the famous Man united and we're going to Wembley

Glory glory Man united,
Glory glory Man united,
Glory glory Man united,
As the reds go marching on on on!

Glory glory Man united,
Glory glory Man united,
Glory glory Man united,
As the reds go marching on on on!

Glory glory Man united,
Glory glory Man united,
Glory glory Man united,
As the reds go marching on on on!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pundya Catches A Train...

2009-05-05T10:21:00.000-07:00

There are some incidents in your life that you simply wonder how could they have possibly happened. These incidents form that crux of your life that you simply have to say, "This is so going in my blog".. (Refer Barney in HIMYM S01E01, Pilot (Ted and the Blue French Horn)). So this is a incident that Pundya brings to you straight as it comes. No exaggerations there (Actually quite unlike me, but nonetheless). I am trying to inspect this from a 3rd person's perspective, hence the narration style...

As Pundya came home from what seemed a gruelling week of exams, he had already decided that he would book a ticket this time when he went back. He always bought a ticket. But it was usually the general one that he'd have to buy an hour before the journey. And even though he prided in calling it, 'Leaving the options open', he knew it was his tad bit of laziness in planning stuff beforehand. So Pundya booked his ticket in advance this time on his return journey back to Mumbai. But little did he know that fate simply wanted to play the 'Kick my arse and call me a Yo Yo' game yet again. Those dumbfounded by the lack of knowledge of this game may simply recall the childhood game where the bat and the ball belonged to you and you only were allowed to field among the big boys. So coming back to the incident, Pundya had booked a ticket for the Indrayani Express which leaves Pune Station at 6.35 pm. It is the last train that reaches Mumbai in humane hours and hence Pundya took his chance to spend maximum time in Pune with this decision.
The first glitch in this plan comes when Pundya hears that those irate three wheeler drivers in the city have chosen the same day to demand their unreasonable demands yet again. Pundya does not wish to take sides but wishes the authorities had complied to the demands for his sake. So he slowly trudges by to the PMPCL (erstwhile PMT) stop in a hope of successfully catching a bus. His timepiece however has not limped by but instead raced to 5.45 pm. He watches in gloom as bus after bus pass him by without stopping for his ever extended hand. The ones that stop have their destinations at least 10 km away from Pundya's. His patience is at its tiny end and chewing onto his intestines as the clock ticks past 6 o'clock. A bus that finally screeches to halt in front of him doesn't go to Pune Station but Shivajinagar. Pundya gets on to this bus hoping to catch the train at Shivajinagar. By the time he reaches Shivajinagar, it is already 6.25 pm. A thought for some unknown reason flashes through Pundya's mind and he asks the guard there if Indrayani Express halts at Shivajinagar. To his utter dismay, the guard says, "No, it doesn't". Suddenly a local approaches the station going towards Lonavala. Pundya hops in hoping to catch the Express at Chinchwad station. But his misery isn't over yet. A local frequenter informs the hapless Pundya that Indrayani does not stop even at Chinchwad.
At this point, poor old Pundya is at his wits end. He doesn't want to go home and again start tomorrow morning. Neither does he want to take the pains to find a cab or a bus. But as Chinchwad still seems a viable option for further progress Pundya gets down at Chinchwad. The only other non-railway employee seems to be in similar plight there having missed the local that Pundya got down from. The gentleman there then proceeds to relate to Napolean in that brief period. (Some 2 mins and war lost and how we both were Napoleans (Kuch bhi...)). Pundya is just pondering over his thoughts (Read nothing) when the background music (I mean that man) goes on about, "Ata ti train dhaddhadat jael samorun.. thambanar nahi ithe". Like he needs to hear it.
Suddenly Pundya finds the train approaching the station. But it isn't 'dhaddha'ing'. He looks in the opposite direction. The signal is saying, "Catch the train u dork, I cant help you any further."(I mean its red(typical me)). The train slows down in front of the station. Pundya jumps down the platform on to the rails. The train is on the middle track. It slows down even further. Napolean uncle is shouting for Pundya to jump in. Pundya catches the side bar. Takes a leap and gets into the train. He waves a goodbye to Uncle Napolean before the train starts picking up speed. Somehow the signal has turned green once Pundya got in. Looking at the sky through that door that he is waiting in, Pundya thanks God for something even he can't grasp. And after all his antics, Pundya does catch the train...

The Moo Point

2009-04-09T21:47:00.000-07:00

Last night I had a weird dream. I was not my usual self. Instead I was someone else wandering some known streets at night. I incidentally knew all those around me for quite some period of time and could also converse with them. Then a funny accident happened on the road on which I was standing.
Now, I have to tell you something. Jimmy is a downright rascal. The only thing he does during the day (Its dark even during the day) is to follow some females and try courting a relation. I simply can't understand him. So he was engrossed in his habitual activity. Jon was sitting atop the lamppost enjoying Jimmy's antics. Now, our Jon here is the best gaffer your ever seen. He sits patiently for hours at a stretch and then in the middle of nothing crack a wiseass comment and start cackling out loudly. We all know him quite well to ask him why. I was sitting at the kerb munching something that I thought should have tasted well. Not today though. It was tasting kinda plastic and getting stuck in between my teeth. I have to remind Annie to clean my teeth today. Sweet girl that she was, I knew she wouldn't refuse. Mustn't pester her though. So in the middle of everything came Jess. Now Jess, here, is our show girl. Even after 8 babies, she seems just like she looked before. And the best part is that she makes everyone notice her figure. Flaunting her curves like a model, she maintains her perfect gait.
So here she comes. Walking in the middle of the road regardless of the fact that these were created for the movement of the tailless. Suddenly a Vroom Vroom comes out of nowhere and woozes past Jess. This throws Jess into a spin. She starts jumping and crying out for Dan, Lil Dan, Big Dan, Dan Dan, Mo, Lil Mo, Big Mo and Constantinople. I assure her with my huge bombastic voice that everyone is ok. But Jon has a different opinion. Annie comes on to point out the rash driving by the tailless. Jimmy has his own say as to how the tailless purposely try killing others in general and him in particular. After much noisy cajoling and blaming, everyone slips into a deep silence, pretending to think. This often happens. Everyone strikes up a comical pose and shows how deep in thought he/she is. Then Jess suddenly bursts with remarks such, "Killers", "Death to all tailless", "To infinity and beyond!!". Don't ask me why. It is always beyond my comprehension. Then suddenly Annie starts talking about how we should plan a mission to stop the traffic on this road so that all of us are allowed to live here in peace. Jimmy offers to invite a few friends for the digging purpose. Says they are brilliant having an experience of digging up an entire garden own their own. Annie quips in about some weird animal called otter (I've never heard of him. Don't know where Annie learns all these new words..) Jon says that he has nothing to do with the actual work but is ready to assist me if I use my bony extentions. I always wonder how everyone else decides everything about me before I do. But then I am a little slow. So everyone turn to me for my view. I say that this is all unnecessary as the tailless have their own fellows digging up and down the road often and that we should only be patient enough to wait for them to do it. But as always my view is tossed into the can by everyone. I don't blame them.
As they say it, it was only a Moo Point.

My First Composition

2009-03-28T22:48:00.000-07:00

Presenting before you my first composition. Its a heavy rock song whose thought is primarily influenced by listening to hours of Poets Of The Fall and Metallica. And it certainly is a thread along which I've been thinking about for last few weeks. So here it is. Hope to record it with the sounds some day..

Lonely Christ

Copper Chrome..
I see the drone.
I see the cross and feel reality.

Wind and storm..
I see them gone.
I feel them all and sense duality..

They don't seem to know me,
And I don't seem to care.
Breaking through the silence,
when was life so square?

I'm a lonely christ.
Born to be alone...
I'm a lonely christ.
Born to be alone... (x2)

Crystal clear
Battle fear
In my eyes, I feel they seem to know.

Sequential
Differential
Tack me up and swing me back again.

Snaking through the jungle,
Laying life so bare.
Questioning mortality,
I'm about to crucify myself.

I'm a lonely christ.
Born to be alone...
I'm a lonely christ.
Born to be alone...

Give me back my Judas..
Give me back my self
Take the away the hypocrites
And all the apostles.. (X 2)

I'm a lonely christ.
Born to be alone... (x3)

I'm a lonely christ.
Let me die alone...

To kill a dying man...

2009-03-19T08:36:00.000-07:00

Those with a raised brow are kindly requested to lower them, as there are instances in this post will quite easily exceed the extent to which you may raise that hairy growth just above your eye. As for my choice of title, it is barely sufficient to mention that it is the act of killing that is forms the essence of this murder and not the intention. To keep up with the brilliant tradition of 'Khavchat Puneri' (this actually puts a big pin to the balloon, but nonetheless..) I hereby embarked on this journey to list down some of the most killer acts performed by me and like minded acquaintances. (Listed down so for readers convenience.. Beginners may start from the bottom..)

B11I07 - The one with the foot in the mouth:
This is one of those incidents that you'd refer to as my friend's story. (Those wondering WTF i'm talking about may read it here). But I shall not do so and bear the burden of this embarrassing story on my head. It so happened that I was chatting with this friend of mine whose relationship status had recently gone from single to committed. I knew the girl by face but her name had somehow percolated through my porous mind. So I was telling him about a girl named Rina, a girl I'd known only through bulk mails, and how foolishly she had publically made a fool of herself by sending out those spam "send these to 200 others or u'll be struck by lightening " mails. And as it is so charactistic of me I had a few words to add of my own here too. As the conversation progressed, I asked him about his girlfriend and how he had met her n all the other things that I had little intrest in knowing but I knew would please him if I asked. Finally, I asked him, "Dude, what's her name or else I'd be calling her your girl for the next thousand or so years?". He was reluctant which I mistook as his usual shyness. After much silly prodding on my part, he finally said, "Dude, don't you get it? Its Rina...". I was like WHATTTTT!! and then "Ganda, chullu bhar pani main doob marna chahiye tha wala.."

B11I06 - The one with the tuition:
This incident was one of the incidents that generate rivalry among brothers often leading to industries collapsing and empires being demolished. The Ambanis had it, the Birlas had it and the Pundliks too had it!! A cousin of mine was at that end of the the whacking stick that usuals do not prefer to be on. (Unless otherwise specified..) He had decided to bunk his classes (not such a great incident going by my standards). The news reached the Family!! After a lot of hubbub and cries of kid gone waste (The usual Maa ka Laadla Bighad gaya..), I was called upon to deliver some words of advice.(I can picture the surprise!!) I gave him the usual thingy that elder brothers usually give in front of elders. Downright embarressed as he was, he blurted out that he didn't like the prof. I responded by, "Profs are not girlfriends that you have an option of meeting only if you like them.." A KP at his best...

B11I05 - The one with the Striptease
This happened when I was in my second year of engineering. A pair of twins, notorious for their erratic and irritating behavior came to our Boat Club to learn sculling. As a rule, all scullers have to wear shorts. This pair only had a single pair. Twas fine till the first went for the his outing and came back all smiles. The second was listed to go next. He was counting on the first giving him the shorts on coming back. So when the first alighted from the boat, the second promptly removed his trouser in front of a shocked crowd of about 50-odd males & females. He suddenly then realized his fallacy and asked his brother to exchange the shorts immediately. The brother rejected this idea. If this was not all, the brothers then started scuffling. The one with the shorts managed to push the un-trousered one into water. He then picked up the trousers of his hapless brother. And took them away with him. The other pantless kept waiting till he realized that his brother has truly had turned him into a laughing stock..

B11I04 - The one with the rickshaw:
Denting others vehicles have often been the intentions of this friend of mine. The intentions are so pure that the dash is a straight one in which my friends vehicle often gets damaged worse. But for the greater good as they say.. So this friend of mine, lets name her Geeta went and banged into a rickshaw waiting at the signal. Plainly, it was Geeta's fault. But being a girl, sympathies went for the 33% reserved quota. Rickshawwala promptly removed the keys from Geeta's vehicle so as to make her pay for the damage. He was still in the barrage of scoldings from the bystanders and the good-for-nothings in the street corners when Geeta tiptoed to the rickshaw and removed the keys from the rickshaw. Triumphantly she then then flashed it before the crowd and demanded the keys to her vehicle. She then proceeded to ask the driver to pay for her damages. Never having been in such adverse situation, he proceeded to pay her a decent amount for no fault of his. Then the lady of the day, took the money and her keys, of course, in exchange for the rickshaw keys and proceeded her way.

B11I03 - The one with the traffic police:
A general Indian fears a traffic police more than probably Mayavati becoming the Prime Minister.(Surely a more scarier news exists only if you plan to marry Count Dracula.) But exception always exists. This friend of mine has a unique style of arguing. He has to make the person opposite beg for mercy to stop arguing. So when this creature falls prey to the evil 'Mama/ Mami' (The females of this species are more vicious), the hunter becomes the hunted. One such incident I recall. This friend of mine was going on a 'chimneyesque' kinetic honda in shorts. The kinetic honda did not belong to him and pockets did not belong to the shorts. So he was promptly stopped by a police. The police promptly asked him for license, PUC and other papers which the lead of this episode did not possess. So he proceeded to lament(no exaggeration here)about how the police trouble innocent young boys like him. So frustrating was it that the police finally gave up and asked him to go. Moreover, the police gave him his own cell no. so that others did not trouble him.

B11I02 - The one with the punctured tyre:
This one is the KP at its best. Once when i had encountered a punctured tyre at 11 pm on a road with probably no visible living being in sight, a friend (I thought him to be :P ) called me up. Knowing he lived close by, I asked him, "Dude, I have a flat tyre. So could I come to your place tonight, park my vehicle there and get it in the morning?". A 13th generation true Puneri that he was, he immediately replied,"Visitors are not allowed to park inside the building premises."

B11I01 - The One with the jobless friend:
This happened a few days ago when a friend of mine (Sorry K) who recently lost a job due to the recession was keen on meeting me. She eagerly called me up and asked, "Rohit, are you free this weekend?". A plain answer would have sufficed. But being a true 'KP', I replied, "Unlike some, I am still studying and am supposed to work even on weekends. So dear, there is no time that I may want to spend under the pretext of meeting you..".

This is just the beginning...
More to follow soon...

Black Eyed Peas - A Different Stroke..

2009-02-19T00:40:00.000-08:00

Black Eyed Peas have really been known for their well crafted hip-hop feel in the songs and their "I don't give a damn, coz this is what I feel.." attitude. So if I say that Will.i.am and Apl.de.ap along with Fergie and Taboo really could create a song worth listening for the lyrics instead of being the regular tosh of Nigga and Whoa and Ya Yas I would really see people laughing their AO...
But this is one of the little piece of diamond that I found among their general assorted collection of Retarded Bebots and Humps. This was among their album named ELEPHUNK (??) and topped a few charts in Australia and UK..
Btw it was also nominated for the Grammys..

Where Is The Love

(Will.I.Am)
What's wrong with the world mama?
People living like aint got no mamas
I think the whole worlds addicted to the drama
Only attracted to the things that bring you trauma
Overseas yeah we tryin to stop terrorism
But we still got terrorists here livin
In the USA the big CIA the Bloodz and the Crips and the KKK
But if you only have love for your own race
Then you only leave space to discriminate
And to discriminate only generates hate
And when you hatin you're bound to get irate
Yeah madness is what you demonstrate
And that's exactly how anger works and operates
Nigga you gotta have love just to set it straight
Take control of your mind and meditate
Let your soul gravitate to the love y'all

(Chorus: Fergie and Will.I.Am)
People killing people dying
Children hurt and you hear them crying
Can you practice what you preach or
Would you turn the other cheek?
Father Father Father help us
Send some guidance from above
Cause people got me got me questioning
Where is the love?(where is the lovex3)(the love2x)

(Taboo Nawasha)
It just ain't the same all ways have changed
New days are strange, is the world insane?
If love and peace so strong
Why are there pieces of love that don't belong
Nations dropping bombs
Chemical gases filling lungs of little ones
With ongoing suffering
As the youth die young
So ask yourself is the loving really strong?
So I can ask myself really what is going wrong
With this world that we living in
People keep on giving in
Makin wrong decisions
Only visions of them livin and
Not respecting each other
Deny that brother
The wars going on but the reasons undercover
The truth is kept secret
Swept under the rug
If you never know truth
Then you never know love
Where's the love y'all?(I don't know)
Where's the truth y'all?(I don't know)
Where's the love y'all?

(Chorus: Fergie and Will.I.Am)
People killing people dying
Children hurt and you hear them crying
Can you practice what you preach or
Would you turn the other cheek?
Father father father help us
Send some guidance from above
Cause people got me got me questioning
Where is the love?(where is the lovex3)(the lovex2)

(apl.de.ap)
I feel the weight of the world on my shoulder
As I'm getting older y'all people gets colder
Most of us only care about money makin
Selfishness got us followin the wrong direction
Wrong information always shown by the media
Negative images is the main criteria
Infecting their young minds faster than bacteria
Kids wanna act like what the see in the cinema
Whatever happened to the values of humanity
Whatever happened to the fairness and equality
Instead of spreading love, we're spreading anomosity
Lack of understanding, leading us away from unity
That's the reason why sometimes I'm feeling under
That's the reason why sometimes I'm feeling down
It's no wonder why sometimes I'm feeling under
I gotta keep my faith alive, until love is found

(Chorus: Fergie and Will.I.Am)
People killing people dying
Children hurt and you hear them crying
Can you practice what you preach or
Would you turn the other cheek?
Father Father Father help us
Send some guidance from above
Cause people got me got me questioning
Where is the love?(fade)

Here is the link for the Video on Youtube..
A real beauty..

The Civilized Doubting Thomases

2009-02-06T21:08:00.000-08:00

Currently I'm reading a lot that doubt the Hindu deities and whether the Mahabharata actually took place. There seems to be a general observation that not all that happened in Mahabharata was actual and there were many metaphors. Also Shri Krishna's acts before, during and after Mahabharata raise many questions. This made me realize a true fact. One must really be well educated about one's religion to really doubt it. This comes into light with several things currently happening around us.
The first thing that hit me hard was the "Moral Policing" issue. These people who went around on a rampage the other day proclaiming themselves to be the upholders of the culture and religion seem to have missed a vital point. I ask them them a single question,"Pray tell me which scripture told you that you could assail a female individual and still call yourselves the upholders of culture and tradition?" What pains me more that instead of condemning these rogues, our media and the self proclaimed self-righteous leaders continue to publicize them. What is right needs no proof and what is wrong should never go unpunished.
Civilized Indians are now in the state of doubt that is this an act of "Moral Policing" against the so called western influences or plain simple act of vandalism? And as ever the doubt will continue to pertain until it transforms into ignorance.
Now about the main reason why this is being written. Very soon a movie that has been condemned by the Church and many a Christ scholars,"Angels and Demons" based on another fantastic novel by Dan Brown will be released soon. And though it will be released throughout the world, someone in India will move to the court to ban it here. This has been happening for many a years in India. And not just regarding movies and other arts but against all forms of liberties. And this is not just India. There will be similar acts in other countries around the world. The countries which will allow these acts to go out of hand may not necessarily be the third world countries. Why is the only question I ask.
For centuries religions have continued to intrigue many a scholars and priests as well. The Vedas have deeply studied the Godliness of God. Its been a topic of deep research among almost all the major religions in the world to question their God. The truth in many cases stands immaterial. The faith matters in the end. But this definitely does not mean that faith be the overriding factor and even restrict reason. All the religions (I say religions even though i mean fanatics) have become extra protective about their Gods. As if The Gods need the protection (if the claims are to be believed)!! The fanatics pounce on the first chance to show how religious they are. These fanatics are often uninformed about their own Gods and nowadays often misinformed. The Taliban is one of the best examples of these.
What i have truly started to understand now is that there is a plain fact underlying the whole predicament of Godliness. It is not based on any reason or faith or for that matter any scripture. One can only question one's God if one is comfortable discussing IT. And as one can do so only when people around care to listen and not jump to conclusions, this is possible only in a civilized society. So I can say that only the civilized question their God. As only this society can come in terms of truth and remain unperturbed about it. And maybe this is the real litmus of a civilized society.

The Chewing Gum Incident

2009-01-08T22:13:00.000-08:00

This is one of the pranks I played when I was a young and innocent boy (well dats what people thought of me as)in school. This incident actually has happened and the victim is now a DJ at The Leather Lounge.
My friends and I had just come across the term condom and were still grasping the meaning and the extent of condoms' usage!! One day a friend of ours came across the carton of "MOODS". As we were being informed about this by this friend of ours, the victim decided that it was time when he would poke his nose. So the victim (who was uneducated on these matters,) queried "What is MOODS?". The bunch of were wondering how we could make this nut case understand that this was a matter far beyond his current cerebral capacity. The pestering continued to grow when I decided to shoo him away with an answer that would satisfy him for the present. This is the conversation that followed,
Me:Dude, MOODS is a new brand of chewing gum that has just come to the market and it also has a tattoo free with it!!
Victim: I'll have today itself. Is it available in our canteen??
Me: No mann.. these people are not keeping it.
Victim: Ok. I'll try at a shop near my building. He sure must be keeping it.
Me: Sure. Try and lemme know...
(Keeping a smug face was never so difficult..)
What followed was simply too good..
The victim then went home that day and asked his mom for some money to buy a chewing gum..
He then proceeded to the shop downstairs and asked "Bhaiiya, MOODS hai??"
Bhaiiya: Nahi!!! (I could imagine a shock on dat face of his..)("Hai par tu kya karega?? Age kitna aur mang kya raha hai"-- In his mind..)
Victim : Kabhi aayega.
Bhaiiya: Aa jayega to tujhe jaroor bataunga..
If this was not it....
The kid's mom then had to shop for some stuff and she incidentally went to the same shop where the shopkeeper spilled her sons beans. I can only imagine the mother's expression!! What proceeded then is quite obvious by the fact that I ran around the whole school to escape the victim's wrath. The class teacher then proceeded to give me a remark in my school calender for misbehaving. I think the nut told her this incident. But the bottom line is that the victim still doesn't believe me...

Failure Of A Nation

2008-11-28T12:24:00.000-08:00

I am just posting this from a well known newspaper. I think its worth a read.
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What we have today is systemic failure
--- Vikram Sood

Terror now stalks the country. As one watched the television screens on the night of November 26 it seemed a re-run of past terrorist incidents in India. Yet these were different. India has not seen a terrorist attack of this kind where terrorists have stormed a hotel, taken people hostage, killed others and have made no ransom demand so far. Obviously they are playing for publicity and merely want to draw attention to themselves and whatever be their demands. Our hysterical response on television channels and confused response of the authorities adds to the publicity.

Anyone watching the television scenes would have noticed that the terrorists seemed calm, physically fit and had not even bothered to cover their faces. Their demeanour was that of well trained persons, familiar with their surroundings and the task to be accomplished almost commando-like in their bearing. They were either planning to drop their weapons after the act and melt into the crowd or go down fighting. The game is simple -- the longer the crisis lasts, the greater the publicity and greater the pressure on the government to do something. It will require consummate skill and determination to overcome this crisis with minimal loss of innocent lives.

The present lot of terrorists are not the traditional suicide bombers ready to blow themselves up. Yet somehow the manner of their arrival by boats and the physical features of the terrorists brings to mind Mumbai March 1993. At that time too a part of the plot was to carry out killings at other selected targets after the simultaneous bomb explosions. The area of operation and the targets were also quite similar -- upper class and affluent. Is there a Pakistani ISI-Dawood hand in this? It is still early days but these questions need to be asked.

In India our tendency has been to make some post event superficial changes, pious declarations of intent and condemnations of the act accompanied by horrendous photographs of the event with knee jerk expert comments from media rookies. That is until the next attack takes place. We do not even have adequate laws to deal with the threat like the British and the Americans do, and for a country that has had to face terrorism for most of its independent existence, we do not even have national identity cards because it is politically inexpedient. Our border controls remain inadequate.

Post event the investigating agencies should be allowed to operate in areas and societies from where the attack is suspected to have occurred or planned. There can be little success if exclusions are made on grounds of religion or region.

Public indifference to terrorist incidents may indicate that the people may have overcome fear which is a positive development but if it is because of indifference to suffering based on the hope that 'I' shall not be the target because tragedies are only meant for 'the other', then we have a problem.

There is inadequate public response because it is generally assumed that prevention of terrorism is exclusively the task of the State. This attitude has to change and only the State can help this change. The average citizen must be encouraged and educated to help the State by providing clues, warnings and assistance in investigations.

It has to be acknowledged that the police force is inadequately prepared to deal with the menace and it is not their fault that this is so. The governments of the day are responsible for this state of affairs. Ill equipped, ill trained, undermanned station houses they live in appalling conditions sometimes at the mercy of the very don against whom they are supposed to protect the society. Successive governments have taken away the authority and the dignity of the profession.

The public has little confidence in the force and the force is unsympathetic to the public. The witness protection schemes are badly flawed and justice is indefinitely delayed. There is little incentive for the public to come forward with evidence and little incentive for the force to prosecute. Invariably, always each terrorist incident evokes criticism about intelligence failure.

In India, there is a general lack of appreciation (one suspects at the highest level as well) that intelligence agencies are the sword arms of the nation (not the government) in the furtherance of its foreign security interests and the protection of the country.

In normal times, when it is the best time for the agencies to be allowed to hone their skills, develop their sources and prepare for the future, they suffer from benign neglect. Posts remain unsanctioned, purchase of new equipment is postponed and upgrading is frowned upon, all because the powers-that-be assess that the threat has passed.

Yet, when an incident takes place, intelligence agencies become the useful whipping boys with politicians and others ready to shift blame as they assess their political fortunes.

The best and perhaps the only way to fight terrorism is to develop and sustain an effective intelligence system, not only at the Centre but at every level down to the constable. Unless we have this we will continue to get surprised.

What we have today is systemic failure. All systems have malfunctioned.

A terrorist event makes a good story or 'breaking news', but the media too needs some rules of conduct. It is important to report the truth but it is also sometimes important when we are fighting a war to sometimes not report or to modify the report without modifying the truth. Repeated telecast of pictures of frightened families, terrified children or mangled bodies is a victory for the terrorist. He has succeeded in frightening the people. And photographs of a prospective witness circulated widely would only help the terrorist. Often we glorify a terrorist when we refer to him as a fidayeen.

All this has to change too if we want to win the war on terrorism. India must get ready to detect, deter and destroy this menace before it destroys us.

Vikram Sood is a former R&AW chief

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"Wall-E"d

2008-11-20T01:07:00.000-08:00

To put a long story short, I saw Wall-E when I shouldn't have and Boy O Boy..Did I Love It??
Nahh loving is just an understatement.. I simply adored it. Since yesterday, I have seen it thrice and have also given an ESE paper in between.. But that's just besides the point... I've loved every pixel of this Pixar masterpiece.

I'd seen Toy story years back and loved it too. From then on these people never seemed to look back. Masterpiece after masterpiece. The Wall-E surely lives up to the Pixar Tradition..
And I dont rue the decision of watching it.. Mann I've survived years of such endsems...
Movies like this dont come often.
Love Wall-E and Eva and each of the tiniest grunt by the tiniest robot in the movie. haha..

Theory of Nothingness..

2008-10-22T04:22:00.000-07:00

After about 16 years of rigorous exams and slogging, I have reached a conclusion.

What we read and what should be read has no connections..
What we read and what we understand has no connections..
What we understand and what we remember has no connections..
What we remember and what we write has no connections..
What we write and what has been asked has no connections..
What has been asked and what we are marked for has no connections..
What we are marked for and what we score has no connections..

But we score..
Inspite of all these permutations n combinations, we clear these exams.
Toppers will comment on how their study pattern was methodical n those who flunked will feel that they just missed it by a whisker..
The real thing is few got it right and few did not..
At times, the rest thanked God for not being among the few
And at some other time they lamented for not being among the few.

Spurs' Woe..

2008-10-10T13:24:00.000-07:00

Most of you may call this plagiarism or sort...
But these few lines about Tottenham are just too good (or should I saw awesome...)

Every week in London, we watch you, you're woeful
This is how our season goes on...

Right across the back four, there's space in between us
Even Hull can beat us at home...

Hoddle, Carr, wherever you are
I believe that these Spurs can't go on...

Woody, Cor, you open the door
And we're leaking in goals, and come May we'll be gone, gone, gone...

Juande came to save us from smug Gunners banter
Spain is much cooler than France...

But Bentley, Bent - and look what we've spent
You are not Jimmy Greaves or Ossie...
We're poor, and what's more, we're struggling to score
And we're sinking so fast, that come May we'll be gone, gone, gone...

For all those who like Celine Dion or like this song....
I'm just going to say, I ain't sorry. :)
The song has lived its life..(Even reverse horn of cars have started using it!! Can it be worse...)
And this parody certainly does justice to it..
It is one of the few songs (along with Hips Don't Lie - Shakira) that i've liked and later disliked by hearing it more frequently than i could ever imagine..
Now for the main part...
How can some clubs become suddenly so pathetic.
Tottenham certainly win the awrd for being the best losers.
Its not the team.I feel Juande Ramos and Luka Modric and Roman Pavlyuochenko and David Bentley all are to blame. The team simply does not seem to like playing the game. Shoulders drooped n all. Come on people play the ball. I'd really like them play well.

I am not a Hotspurs fan but I like their team and also Newcastle with Owen n all. So i hate these teams screw up their season so bad.. Still I hope Newcastle gets over their mess n Tottenham regains their form. And Most Importantly, MANCHESTER UNITED retain their CHAMPIONSHIP!!!!

Memoirs of Nobody

2008-10-06T07:04:00.000-07:00

Nobody is a fictitious character in this story. Nobody bears no resemblance to anyone dead or alive. This story began about five years back. The day nobody entered our lives. Entered would be a word to weak for what nobody did to us..
Now, for all those baffled by my use of nobody, nobody is a dog. A canine par excellence. I would really appreciate if you don't use all of your supernatural minds to guess any puns. If intended they suffice the needs of the narrator only!!! So, as i vividly remember the day, it was the 17th of June 2003. If you people have noticed, it always rains in Pune on the 17th June. I dont know if it has any meteorological reason or not. (probably not and when did Simla house need any reason to use reason!!!). So back to the topic, it was a soggy evening and i heard a sound of someone scratching on my front door. (And I was not scared by it!!!) Opened the door to see this skinny little pup completely drenched and smelling awful, sitting right in my porch. After much poking and prodding, it moved its dirty self from there. I hoped I had seen the last of his tiny tail. But it stayed on in the neighborhood. Some kids decided to go PETA just then and started to feed and wash it and what not. So this little bundle of bones filled inside a dog skin stayed on. Then, there was a minor incident involving some rag pickers picking something other than rags and this dingbat. I had been watching the whole incident from afar and it was me who had first spotted the thievery. But somehow people decided that dogs are the most obvious thief catchers and the beep became an instant celebrity.
I was not jealous but somehow it had stolen my moments of neighborhood glory. I wouldn't have minded a few appreciative looks from the lasses living close by (U would appreciate this only if you have been in a boys school for the most of your life and then ended up in CoEP.) that it got accompanied by sweet nothings.. So I ended up being the only one who did not like this dog. If anything was worse, it had taken to like me (obviously it did not know me!), yelping and jumping every time it saw me or me!! I am no Abel to keep the vengeance burning for life and gradually the animosity subsided. As a result of which, my mom started hating me.( I actually gave the dog a nice rug coz it was feeling cold).
After all this background settings comes the real part. Naming Nobody Nobody! Jan 2005, first week. Validity of my new year resolution had not ended. So a dog catcher had come our vicinity to collect some new year "bakshish"(hafta vasuli, i'd call). To prove he could catch a dog, he started rounding up some canines rusty enough to get caught. The lead character of the whole plot was sitting in our parking taking his afternoon nap. As the dog catcher approached our apartment, I decided to step in and do some damage control. Obviously i could not let that interfering busybody take this idiotic little descent of Scooby Doo and keep him among those hideous looking dogs (as if they resembled one!! - They do need to build one spares shop for dogs. Coz dogs lose their body parts often more often than lizards losing their tails...). So when that dog catcher asked me if anybody was there in the parking, I promptly replied nobody. So the name stuck on. So it got picked up by others. Others who had named him earlier by more human names like Jimmy (thanks to Mithun Chakraborty's Son's First Movie. How bad can a movie be...) continued doing so. Who said a dog can't have two names..
So Jimmy Nobody became our official pet and security guard. As a result, our human security guard quit(due to ego clashes with Nobody...) Life could not have been any better (for me..). I had nearly finished with my engineering (Proj sem was left, but then as if that counted..), parents sent their kids (10th n 12th) to me for career guidance (and i sent them back with LP/Metallica/Backstreet Boys (level dependent!!)), Nobody wagging its tail every time i happened to pass him and an occasional wuff of respect (I thought he meant Salaam Saab!!). Then came spring... Romance was in the air... N our dearest Nobody met the love of his life... Nobody got involved in a bitch. So deep was his love for her that he forgot his old friends, chuddy buddies n yours faithfully.. Both of them would sing through the night, some songs in doggish... I thought i also heard some distinct harmonies. One very important question. "What is the gestation period of a dog?" It was as if Nobody had just met Somebody n soon Everybody was born.. Our little Nobody had graduated to become Mr.Nobody. How we celebrated the birthday of Everybody Nobody!!!
But calamity struck, the bitch ditched Nobody and went away wagging her stubby tail with Busybody. Nobody could not take this beating. He became Salman Khan, fighting with people n friends. Just to prove that Nobody was nobody's dog, he gave up all his material belongings and took up the life of a hermit. And one day went away without a whimper with the same dogcatcher. Thus concluding a happy story with a bitter ending. All because of a bitch..

Mika on 6Lyrics.com

Wake Up...

2008-09-25T23:27:00.000-07:00

I intended to write another post on one more hilarious incidents in my not so important past..
But there was this thing that happened just yesterday that really made me postpone my "Memoirs of Nobody" for some later time..I intended to name this blog WTF... but somehow i did not want to include obscenities from the start.
It was just yesterday that the report on Godhra incident was released by Justice Nanavati. I intend not to take sides but cant help wondering whether our political figures, who are so embroiled in their quest for the chair, can really see the repercussions of their shitty actions. There we have Mamata Banerjee opposing the Nano project and the central Government will not interfere coz, the Comms are not their allies any more. The state of Orissa is burning and J&K is still fuming inside like a fire that has somehow been supressed, bidding its time to explode beyond control. Some fools who call them selves IM have forgotten what I stands for and are indending to blow up the whole of our country for some B&*%&^ds who dont even give a damn about them.
The inflation is taking its own toll and our Mr. Prime Minister decides to sanction the 6th pay commision just to earn himself a few votes. The opposition support the no confidence motion on the government on an issue that they themselves had been proposing some years back. I mean WTF.....
And the media is no less. There is a phrase is Hindi "gaade murde ukhadna" which is exactly what our media has been doing. Asking a bleeding bomb blast victim how he feels surely represents the fourth pillar in democracy that Howard Roark would have have ripped out from the root had it been in one of the buildings of his time. Wake up. See the larger picture. See how stupid our foreign policies appear. Se how our Home ministers costume change appears to be more intresting than the delhi Bomb Blasts...
Mann do we really need more issues to tear our country down? Isn't this enough?

Haa..
Now that i've gotten this out of my heart, it somehow feels better.
Maybe this is the reason my Memoirs of Nobody was somehow not shaping up properly.
I do not intend to burden you with my so depressing thoughts, but then whatever...

The Night of The Horned Leopard

2008-09-20T10:09:00.000-07:00

So this is it. I have finally gotten myself to write a blog....
I had been planning to write one since ages but then I am too lazy to haul myself to do it...
I assure you that this does not necessarily mean anything great to me so you are free to comment... Infact I would appreciate if you did.
So, I am here siting in the middle of all the hubbub and trying to pen my thoughts on a crazy incident that has happened a few weeks back. Twas my first week at Powai. These are the background conditions:

I have been alloted a room on the ground floor.
My bed lies near the window.
I am a really light sleeper.
Powai has a Rajiv Gandhi National Park along its one boundary

On the first day here i was given a booklet with basic guidelines for a comfortable stay @ powai. It included the normal stuff like raging is strictly prohibited n stuff. Something that really caught my eye was "Do not move out alone at night as wild animals have been spotted in the campus" One can be as careful as one can but at that moment i could only recall a joke "Q:-What steps do you take when you see a tiger? Ans:- The Longest!!"
I am still pondering over as to why do Mumbaites stay here in the rainy season. It not the "pitter patter raindrops". But the whole bucketful. Focus Rohit Focus!!!!! So on a night that had everything similar to earlier night up to that point, I went to sleep. Suddenly in the middle of a boring dream, I heard a deep grunting noise...
I thought that it was from the prof whose lecture I was dozing off in my dream. After a while, the grunting got pretty loud and was as if the prof was standing next to me and urging me to wake up. Then it hit me. The grunting was for real. Crack!!! No. I'd just banged my head against the adjacent table as i got up with a start. It was raining hard and I could not see anything outside. The grunting noise was coming from something under window. Shit scared as i was i could not even move for a minute or so. I said to myself that jokes apart, this was a leopard right under my window n even my longest steps would prove futile if the leopard were to think of entering my room. I crept back slowly as I saw something rising in my window. Lo and Behold!! Up came two mighty horns accompanying a mighty grunt. Two eyes stared at me and I could not help but cry my eyes out laughing. The "leopard" present belonged to the bovine family and not the feline. It was staring at me through its big watery eyes. Tried as it was of the rains, it was resting beneath my window sill when yours faithfully decided to create a racket imagining a leopard.
This is first of the many idiotic stuff that have somehow found me as the doer.

PS: Contents of this story may vary as frequently as Bilbo's story of the Ring and my Blog is definitely not Red!!!1