mayurkool

2003-07-01T09:54:00.000-07:00

After the ravaging episode at Tulsa with a danseuse and the speeding ticket on the way back, Salauddin had problems getting up to reality the next day. The hangover with its customary diabolic headache aggravated partly due to the fact that he had to assist his roommates to shift to an apartment nearer to the university campus, added to the misery already. “Yaa allah”….

Aladdin (ol’ Chumch), Gibreel and Farishta were already up to the task at hand when Salauddin made his way struggling through his daze. It was a complete overhaul that they had to undertake of the place at hand. They had stayed there for a year now and were relieved of the fact that they will not have to bike one-half mile every time they wanted to go to the campus and same back from now on. But they were attached to the place that had provided them succor in this distant land and had been their home for a while now.
The cleaning was even more a painful exercise than the packing. It had been a complete foe-to-friend story. Dirt, filth, trash, empty beer bottles were their friends now.
The morning tea and coffee session was quite sedate with everyone just a little fearfully apprehensive of the stuff that remained to be cleaned. It was almost a little after noon, when everyone was up with a broom, that they realized that the electricity and utility connection had already been put off by the civic office.

A storming silence was followed by the storm-in-the-cup. A conflict followed between Salauddin and Gibreel about the untimely disconnection of ‘light’.
(Gibreel)“Lite kaisey chali gayi, Sal..tumney kabhi bola tha ki lite kaat daalo”…………(Salauddin, exasperated from the adventure from last nite and also by the toil at hand) “Ay bhosidikey…abhi dimaag mat chaat….ek taarikh sey bola tha mainey”…………(Gibreel). “Phir abhi kya hua?” Ek kaam bhi dhang sey nahi kar saktey ho kya?”………(Salauddin).”Bola naa….abhi gaand marao”……….(.Gibreel) “Abhi ..kyun…mainey tabhi 44.95 bhar diyey theey tabhi….Mainey tabhi theek kiyaa tha…mainey koi galti nahi kii thi…phir bhi kitnaa bola tha mujhey….abhi teri galti hai to..abhi kya hua?”……………(Salauddin) “ Bhaenchud !!.....bola naa mujhey kya malum ….kii yeh log chutyey hai itney……………
(Gibreel) “ Puchney kaa nahi tha kya…abhi kholi vaccum kaisey karengey………………
(Salauddin) “ Vaccum ki maa chuudaao…..mein kya karu”………

Chumch, who was not new to calming down raging tempers, intervened “ Thandaa lenaa bhai..theek hai…chalo udhar waali jagah ki lite connect karney ko boltey hai….Hello…Well, my account number is 3316363. I had asked to shift my utility connection to 315 Elm # 4 from morrow. Can I have it connected today?....Thanks a lot….U too”
“ Ho gaya….chalo jaldi sey ….clean kar key uddher jaatey hai…ok?”

It was an uphill struggle, struggling with tons of trash, broken window sills, dirtied bath tub, bathroom floor scattered with the unmentionable filth, oily cooking range, slippery kitchen floor, dead pests around the room corners and etcetra….real etcetra …haa !!!
After a sweaty and smelly toil for hours from those four pairs, it was decided that nothing more that could be done could do the place any more good. It was nearing night fall. But lamps were already awaiting them at Elm.

Suddenly Farishta came up with a view that the new place should at least be good enough for some stuff from Walmart and some chairs from the old place. Chumch volunteered to go to Walmart. He called his newest friend with a car, Jameel. Jameel and Chumch were off to WM even before the clocked had traveled half a revolution.

By the time Chumch came back from WM, the other three were still languishing at the new place procrastinating about the chairs from the old place. Chumch, though a lot lackadaisical mostly, could put on amazing display of energy for work at times. Not waiting for the others to join in, he was already on his way to the old house and back with a couple of chairs they could call their own. The others followed him shortly with a make-shift centre piece and a couple more chairs. The new apartment was not completely unfurnished now. Actually, it was a smart place to live in by now. This revelation had dawned on all of them by now.

Dinner was a quite affair with some yellow daal with mild tadkaa and Chaawal. It was instant sleep after some rough unpacking for Chumch. Salauddin had taken some guests already. He was tutoring a few friends in C++. Farishta was off to his lab. Gibreel sat brooding for a while and he also took to sleep shortly after.

Unpacking of the some stuff still lay hanging on cards for the next day.

2003-06-22T18:56:00.000-07:00

Some insights to Desi-American life

(The difference between the words "Desi-American" and "American-Desi" should be noted. These are definitely not the personal experiences of the author.This is all hearsay that can be corroborated with some rumors that have been flying around all campus towns in the US))

Height of laziness

#1
Condition: This can only happen in summer time and only if the complex has a pool and a lot of desis

A guy planning to have a bath after three days ....so he wanna go to the swimming pool.....But when he lands up in water ( I dunno if thats really possible.........I mean ....."land" and "water" are two completely independent ideas ).....He has company...a dozen of 'Annas' and 'gulatis' ( on the beats of "Anna-Pop" and "Gulati-rap") doing the same thing...only that he realizes that he is a 'no-match' when some one he knows from the public confides in him that its been exactly 13 days that he has had a bath and that there are folks in the pool who are way ahead in the count......and then he knows exactly why the pool is full of the typical "anna-gulati" stench

#2
Wearing an undie inside out ( after all the pairs have been used once and are now in the basket) for not having to make an effort to walk ( or bike) a few hundred yards for getting some quarters to do the laundry( another couple of hundred yards away)

#3( ....a fine example of interconvertibility)
Using a soap wrapper lying near the pot as toilet paper ....one fine morning.....on observing that the bundle on the holder is exhausted...and not having to move a couple of yards to load the holder with a fresh bundle

#4 (.........this one sure takes the cake)
Wearing your roomie's undie inside out ...on realizing that both of you have been procrastinating enough on your laundry....and u find that his basket is nearer to you than is yours from the place where u are lying wasted ( not the inebriated types)

2003-06-17T12:46:00.000-07:00

Just some thing that I picked up from a friend's place

This is something that aptly applies to me ...............
(Infringement of copyrights not intended)

For those in their twenty-something's...
This puts it all into words perfectly. They call it the "Quarter-life Crisis" It is when you stop going along with the crowd and start realizing that there are a lot of things about yourself that you didn't know and may or may not like. You start feeling insecure and wonder where you will be in a year or two, but then get scared because you barely know where you are now. You start realizing that people are selfish and that, maybe,those friends that you thought you were so close to aren't exactly the greatest people you have ever met and the people you have lost touch with are some of the most important ones. What you do not realize is that they are realizing that too and are not really cold or catty or mean or insincere, but that they are as confused as you. You look at your job. It is not even close to what you thought you would be doing or maybe you are looking for one and realizing that you are going to have to start at the bottom and are scared. You miss the comforts of college, of groups, of socializing with the same people on a constant basis. But then you realize that maybe they weren't so great after all. You are beginning to understand yourself and what you want and do not want. Your opinions have gotten stronger. You see what others are doing and find yourself judging a bit more than usual because suddenly you realize that you have certain boundaries in your life and add things to your list of what is acceptable and what is not. You are insecure and then secure. You laugh and cry with the greatest force of your life. You feel alone and scared and confused. Suddenly change is the enemy and you try and cling on to the past with dear life but soon realize that the past is drifting further and further away and there is nothing to do but stay where you are or move forward. You get your heart broken and wonder how someone you loved could do such damage to you or you lay in bed and wonder why you can't meet anyone decent enough to get to know better.
You love someone but maybe love someone else too and cannot figure out why you are doing this because you are not a bad person. One night stands and random hook ups start to look cheap and getting wasted and acting like an idiot starts to look pathetic. You go through the same emotions and questions over and over and talk with your friends about the same topics because you cannot seem to make a decision. You worry about loans and money and the future and making a life for yourself and while winning the race would be great, right now you'd just like to be a contender! What you may not realize is that everyone reading this relates to it. We are in our best of times and our worst of times, trying as hard as we can to figure this whole thing out.

2003-06-14T09:12:00.000-07:00

.......
Thou shalt not wilt under thine own lampoon

God is suffering.

2003-06-12T16:04:00.000-07:00

A Tower of Light

A walk in life could easily prove to be a walk of life. It’s the subtlety, the tone, the graphic impact, the exact feeling coming as pure as it comes from a glacier in to a river tempting it to go through the different twists of peregrination. Clouds suddenly get darker and yet those in the mind and those across the walk become clearer as the walk gets more into the walk. It’s the battle that ravages the mind due to the contradiction which comes out between the actions and the intentions.

Now I know a person who took a walk yesterday. It was amidst a clamor of clouds and the flashes of lightening admonishing him with their wrath coming along the downpour. I am sure he liked it. He remembered the days gone by and anticipated the gifts which the moments of future would unravel. He tried to hungrily tear off the wrappage but found his hands not as extensions of the body but only as instruments that he wanted to protect for fear of rust. He had put his hands in the side pockets. He wanted to protect the pack of cigarettes that he was carrying in one of his pockets. The drops of water were hitting him so hard, he thought them to be someone who’s trying to grab him and yet avoid him. For he was both pure and tainted, in intention and action. He felt a certain sense of competition around him, the drops fighting for him and yet to hurt him to save him from corruption.

Then he lit a cigarette and then there was competition for that tiny speck of light now. But it was not the water from heaven that was rushing its swords in the battle. It was light fighting for light this time.
His legs were drenched to the bone and the jacket that he had borrowed from his friend could not resist itself from the pleasures of avarice. It also wanted to get rid of its thirst. He took a deep puff from the cigarette trying hard not to let its light slip away from him. He was not ready to be extinguished.He felt hard hit and sublimely downtrodden.

Now he became the object of everyone’s desire. The wind caressing him, the raindrops coveting him and the lightening pampering him with strange yet characteristically inimitable vigor of its own. The flashes of light made him see the world in a strange light. He looked down at the earth below him. He was big and insignificant. He was strong and yet limping. He could not see his black leather sandals down there. Occasionally, he tried to make a gesture but he failed.
It was insane love being made to him. The eyes pried upon him from the heavens and he remembered the word “god”. He had lost count of his orgasms by now. He was relishing the tumult of his exultations. He was being rinsed of all erotic inhibitions. He stood silent for a few moments. He crossed the road at a signal.

He still had a few puffs left from the cigarette. He felt comfortable and undyingly warm, his body defiant with insolent exhibition of trepid shiver. He felt the hood of the jacket for the second time now. It was trying to expose him as it did even at the first time he felt its presence. He took another puff at the cigarette. He felt freedom from fear in fear. He felt freedom of joy in freedom.

Now he could see the neon sign of Domino’s pizza hardly a couple of hundred yards from where he stood now. Yes, he had stopped there for a moment of eternity again. He felt greedy. He wanted to run back to the moment he had started with this walk. He had started singing now.

He had nobody on his mind. He was already sated with love. He was thirsty for it again. Still he sang a song for someone. Some song of ridiculed love made to a girl. He liked women and yet was so blank in his mind for he knew not to whom he was singing the song for. He cared a damn. He saw the numbers 653. Words with a strange music were still pouring out from his mumbled soliloquy. He stopped there for a moment. He felt a sinful urge to look back for the first time now. He did not. He went on to pull the glass door to his apartment. The cigarette was long gone. The walk had evaporated in the light and smoke. He entered his apartment. He had a walk of his life.

2003-06-09T11:08:00.000-07:00

There can never be a method to creativity.
There is this pursuit of methodical creativity that I see rampant amongst the folks that I have the pleasure of their current company.
It is experience in all its vivid form that nourishes all kinds of creativity.
Experiences are random though their impressions can be everlasting.

"Arm Chair" creativity is what I decry as it essentially is bereft of all contact with experience.
The most common way to sheer experience is being at different places, meeting different people with equally different traits and allowing one's own observation to absorb all that is possible within the purview of one's own faculties.
But my neighbourhood does not essentially give me all opportunity to do so.

I am always a person for a warm libertine chat. But it is times like these, at an engineering school, that I find almost all of them around talking and growing in a mould that befits an engineered humanoid ala clone taught to do a certain job only. And it is ridicule and wrath of his community that one calls upon himself for trying to move out of the box.

As engineers, all our creativity is drained by the Drone-Clone syndrome that inflicts us in most ways. And I can't resist but spare a hearty laugh as we go on to term it as "performance". In essence, enginers are trained to work on tangible fronts, furthering the scope of present technologies being the foremost of them all. This calls for logic, perseverance, method and innovation.
But I am a man not entirely given to his line of thought though I do agree that Innovation is one of the extensions of creativity.
Deep down somewhere within, I have still not acquiesced to the fact that I am being trained to be an engineer, a thing that was not entirely my choice but the choice of happenstance.
I would not again go back to the same ol' discussion........not now atleast.
The point is that all it boils down to is securing a job in the tech world again to put our necks on the drone-clone aseembly line.
Production has become the point of view behind all engineering and not innovation though some people might suggest otherwise.

This entire exercise that I am indulging myself in is to point out the visible and suttle differences between creativity and non-creativity in all its forms.
It is also to point out certain terms that get misinterpreted with context to mixing them and analogizing them with creativity.

'Method' and 'Discipline' are again the two sides of the same coin.
There is nothing such as "discipline of creativity". The only thing possible is "discipline of action" to harness all random energy of thought that leads to manifestation of creativity in all its visible forms. For example;there is discipline in engineering but none in creativity.
And yet this is no necessary condition.

The two inherently contradictory terms of "Creativity" and "production" is the cause of all confrontation. The first one stands for all that is unimitiable (though plagiarizable) in its effort to be unique. The other one stands for all that is really the same. Production is punishing madness set to order. Creativity is madness itself.
There is no science to creativity. All that there is to engineering is Science for science is a chronology of all logical ideas.
Now this leads to the realm of another conjured debate. Are all thoughts ideas?
The premises of "thought" encompasses everything from reflections, remorses,emotions,reflexes and all that is the progeny of the Mind.....and ideas too..........
So all ideas are thoughts but not all thoughts are ideas. It is thoughts that lead to creativity and not just ideas.

All the above thought process weaves a labyrinth of questions where I can go in but do not yet know the way out.
I even do not know the reason why I do such a thing.

It just might be a case where I want all the normal things to happen to me and yet desire to be different.May be I am just over anxious to know whats gonna happen of me....
Who said something about .....an empty mind being a devil's workshop.....Haa haa

2003-06-02T13:19:00.000-07:00

Silence is intimidating.
I can never be heard if I remain silent.
So ......
Yeh Diwana apna Afsaana sunaata raheega....

Just returning from a couple of eventful, listless weeks in California. ( hmm....thats possible)
Back to "armpit of America" Oklahoma.

Its scary to absorb the good after seething in all that is not so good for so long a period.
Euphemism fails to underline the fact.
I saw the good part of life in the US and coming back to the "not so good" part of the life in the US is such a transition.

Immediately after returning back I had to pack my stuff and shift to another place. I had to vacate my place as the lease ended on the last day of May.
Back to West Bennett now. I had spent the first semester here at this very place.
The place seems so unfamiliarly familiar. As if I am reliving the past in a dream (or is it a nightmare !).
The place is such a mess now.

Wow ! ..I even dont realise what I should be doing from now on for the next two months.
I have no job. I have no assistantship.
I have no car. I have negligible credit history.
I have no offcampus free net access. I do not have a tennis raquet.
I do not have a Beverly Hills Mansion. I have no Greyhound lifetime travel pass.
I do not have a Nikon F 90. I do not own Microsoft.
I do not know the difference between Latitude and longitude. ( Is there any?)
I do not even have a mexican girlfriend.....shit

All in all I have nothing that I feel I should not have at this point of time
Except the job !!

But I have myself. I have my folks.
I have a few friends. I have my library and access to my labs.
I have the books in the library.
I have my project to work on.
I have my religion. I have Eskimo joes ( its the hottest ...or is it the stillest....... club in Stillwater)
I have my body and my mind. I have all the birds that sing to me.
I have my cricket ball. I have Macdonalds to eat.
I have the sun burning my skin all over.
I have this place. And..........................

I have hope................

I have Music......

Music Marathi Ensemble...............

Divas asey ki
Koni maajha naahi
ann mi konaacha naahi

aakaashachya chaatri khaali bhijto
aayushyaavar hasney thunkun deyto
yaa hasnyaachey kaaran umgat naahi
yaas hasney mhanvat naahi

prashnaanchey hey ek sandh sey tukdey
tyaavar naachey maniichey abluck ghodey
yaa ghodyaanna lagaam shodhat ahey
pari majlaa gavsat naahi

mam mhantaana aata hasto thodey
mitun gheyto vastushtitichey doley
yaa jagnyaala swapnaancha hi aata
megh paalvat naahi

Divas asey ki .............

2003-05-13T15:13:00.000-07:00

Just trying a few things

2003-05-13T15:08:00.000-07:00

2003-05-13T08:58:00.000-07:00

Bowled over at zero

Its quotidian activity that probably helps a person to get through the drag that his daily existence is.
And then he starts finding happiness in things that he is put in or he puts himself in.

My few days after the official end of this semester has been the same story.
A great pleasure amongst all has been playing cricket.
I am a person always up for sport.
I have turned a great fan of American football and basketball after coming to the US.....least expected when I was in India....my younger Bro still finds it hard to believe...cuz he is equally fanatic about sport...but he hates American Football

Its cricket thats been the closest thing at heart.
I can play cricket quite well. I sincerely feel that I am a potential quality fast bowler...in the mould of Ajit agarkar....
My bowling action is somewhat a mixture of Ajit's and Glenn Mcgrath's. I love bowling.....and I would always do a favor bowling to all my friends in India who liked to swing their bats.....

I have had a tendency to underperform in the past.
But yesterday was fun.
I played a match yesterday with the junta. Though I am a bowler at heart, it was my batting that was the cause of all joy.
My bowling was ok yesteday. At times I can rip apart a batting side . But it wasn't exactly my day with the ball y'day. I still feel some pain in by shoulder joint...the legacy of some past,bad injury which surfaces again and again ...and forbids me from bowling my guts out....
The inswinging yorker is my baby.....and I can bowl it with quite some consistent efficiency.....
I did well though and got a couple of then out with my darling baby...and ended with a respectable 2 for 25 in 4 overs......nothing great though...but the others were hit .......and badly
The target was set for us. It was a formidable .....125 in 20 overs.

Our batting started on a bad note.....couple of wickets bundled cheaply.....
It was 60 for one more than half the side in 15 overs......and I came in to bat
I had Kartik at the other side...a tall,burlesque personality .....KV as we all call him.......packs a punch behind his stroke.......
I am almost 5'11' ...but even then he gives me complex.....cuz he is almost 6'5''
And..... Lo !
It was from the very first ball that I started hitting the ball in the middle of the wood.....
I am a grafter with the willow...and surprisingly cheeky at my best......
But the target was stiff....another 65 runs in 5 overs.....and I knew that I had to put my handle to some good use.....
And a SIX............I couldn't imagine myself......I was hitting the cherry with some authority already........

We put in 39 runs in the next 12 balls when KV mistimed a shot and scooped an easy one at mid-off.......only to be taken neatly there by Parag....one of the safest pair of hands available here..........
We lost another two in the same over.......

Situation : Screwed Up

Me and Bhome (last man)......one wicket in hand .....26 runs needed in 12 balls.....me at stike...
And 18 runs were scored in the next over........courtesy two big hits over the fence.....and another one across it....all from my handle...

8 more runs needed in six balls..........Bhome at stike....he is not exactly a person who weilds his handle in fashion.......
One ball wasted......I asked him just to touch the ball and run.....he did that......but the ball went straight in the hands of the person at short mid-off...........He shied at the stumps......It was the end that I was running to.....I had to completely stretch myself ...and lunge forward ...the position of a "shaastaang namaskaar" in motion.....I did it.....I did it

But the job was still unfinished.....7 runs , 4 balls.......the next one was a controversial delivery....the bowler had aimed it straight at my head....I had to duck...but a no-ball wasn't called .....These things happen....when we do not have neutral dickies.......Now it was 7 runs and 3 balls....Me at stike......

And whammm......the red berry was smashed across the ground for a boundary......3 runs, 2 balls now....
I mistimed the next one.......I had to run......but it was only a single....
Gosh...after such an effort we were to lose......Bhome was at strike...and I had no confidence in him already........One ball to go ......two to win...one to draw....I calmed myself.....all our teammates had already consumed all the nails that they could find on their (respective) hands.......
I asked Bhome to hit the ball ...and run...I said," just do not worry where it goes...run"........and he hit it finally in the square leg area...we ran...and ran the run of our lives.........We had ran a double....We had done it.....We had done it....
It was amazing ......
I ended with a score of 40 odd notout....with four biggies in the innings......

It feels so great to be the reason of one's own joy ..........and the reason for others' joy as well...........

2003-05-03T05:55:00.000-07:00

This is a story about two flowers..................

Ensemble Marathi .................

Hee goshta ahey donn phulaanchi......

Konitarii zhaadavarun donn sundar phuley todli ani ekaa phuldaanit (Flower pot) thevli......
Tyaa phuldaanit tyaa donn phulaanchi olakh ..agadi komejun (wither) jaanyaa aadhi zhaali......

kavi (poet) mhanto (says)......

Marnaachya daari zhaalya olakhichya gaathii bhetii
Dheer deti ek-mekaa saanguniyaa guj-goshtii
sahvaasi phulnyaachey bhaagya bhaali(forehead) naahi aaley
Ekaa jaagi komeju dey, sukh kaay kami zhaaley.............

2003-04-26T18:36:00.000-07:00

Reading thru a few blogs....
My wistful mind on an idea clogs...
Options done and another crops..
Blase' paunch, the valet drops..
And spills another buck for another one..
Guess I have been there and already done...

I do not know why people are crazy for all things American....
Technology is one thing and a sandwich is another....
People in India are stuck between making a choice between American crap and America's long lost shit...
Do not waste Gandhi...guys
I mean whats the big deal eating at a Mac...it stinks....or whats so special eating at a Subway..
I guess the so called "kewl" people from "des" are hanging out at the wrong places...and I hate to admit that there is an utter lack of enterprise.....(I mean why is there not even a single Indian chain that would entice (lure...) all the gen X ...)
The food at these places positively sucks....
Guys...only shit-mongers like truckies and mexicans eat out at Macs...and Subway is boringly monotonous....

These guys do business ...and drain and suck all our resources ...I see a conspiracy here...bigtime.....so that all the taxpayers in India (and the world over) waste all their money on american hogwash ..and we never get to improve,invest and come up with our own way to sustain and thrive in this technology-driven world....Guys! technology is the Mantra.....not a hamburger and greasy pan of fries...

Believe me.... Indian stuff tastes better than any other damn cuisine in the world....Well u could still test ur taste buds with some exotic cuisines once in a while....But why give up the best for some thing mediocre....Trust me...Americans do not know how and what to eat....why aggrandize the substandard and put down the sublime.....

I mean one could always try that out for once (the macs and the subways )....cuz I believe that there is nothing in this world not worth doing at least once....I also believe to a certain extend that one might be tempted to do a certain thing cuz the one who's there some 8000 miles away...would be trying that out too...(no chaos theory here)....sheer mundane temptations I guess.... But do try to create ur own Macs or Walmarts

There is always gonna be a competitive rivalry between nations, communities, religions and all things different ....for all that there is created and destroyed...Creation is more NPV and destruction is opportunity earned..its a game of opportunities.... so why not compete for something (God forgive this race..for all it has bolied down to in this age is "things") that earns more...say for instance 'technology'....or create something called an "organized structure" ( though a structure for organized madness may it be).....or destroy something called "the opportunity for others"......
Its easy said than done...but where is the initiative visible out here?..

Probably...grass will always be greener on the other side...I try my best to keep my connections with all that is great from the subcontinental tropics and then try to establish new ones here...but folks down there are ready to even give up their "langotts" for creep american ringmaster shows ....that only wanna rob u off of ur identity ...or moresoever never wanna let u establish your own in the "real" world....

If its always gonna be Bali's world then why not be 'Bali' urself....why compromise being one of those 'Vaamanas'.......
( Mythology ....favorite 'tinkaa' for the rare,self-professed jesus)

Give way for innovation, Do not give urself to imitation

2003-04-24T23:33:00.000-07:00

Freaking 70 Hours and a near dead man...

Right now I am in a a very incoherent mood blabbering to myself all about biases and weight matrices ....on the other hand trying to remember freakin things from Calculus like vector gradients and ........double integrated surfaces( I wonder why a sane person would wanna do that..)...something about a man called Green...and a bloke called LeSalle ...with all their theories about Invariance and some goddamn thing called Unsupervised Learning....and their is this Master Lyapunov with his stability theorem...(I wonder If their's gonna be any in my life ....)

Its been...since I dunno when...that I had some good food....just dragging my ass off to work on some bread and hogshit patties....Its been eons that I remember stopping for a while and I have a few more hours of those eons to go...Its been years that I had some decent time to clean up myself (...and my body)....

Its requiring some time for words to come out....and I am in a daze....(probably feels the same when U r high on weed , chutzpah and the likes..)...almost floating sitting on my chair ..hallucinating that I am blogging......some trance thats completely all over me...

Just been to my place to dump some more hog-shit in me....And the place seemed completely strange to me....not been there for days....just sulking out at some cyber corner for days,nights, hours on the end........
And God !! ...how much I love it....

Bye bye ....tata ...birla...ambani....Jack Welch...Du Pont...Ram Rahim Pinto....

2003-04-22T09:55:00.000-07:00

I am in love with this Ghazal by Jagjit Singh...Its from the film "Tum Bin"...
It goes like this...

Koi Fariyaad terey dil mein dabii ho jaisey..
Tuney aakhon sey koi baat kahii ho jaisey..

Jaagtey Jaagtey ek ummr katii ho jaisey..
Jaan bakii ho magar saans ruki ho jaisey..

I like Jagjit's voice..

But the only problem with good ghazals is that even though u might be perfectly ok and in a good mood...they tend to create a 'maahaul' such that U might start feeling melancholic ,heartbroken, sad and the likes....
Suddenly U can start identifying with the crestfallen Amitabh from Muqaddar Ka Sikandar....or perhaps someone similar from some ultra-melodramatic bollywood slick..phaltu filmi lagney lagtaa hai.....
The fact that nowadays, not just forfeiting to the mood it creates, I have also started understanding and enjoying the poetry in a ghazal....that perhaps is the point of consolation .....
Anyways, it is the hardest thing to watch someone you genuinely love, love some one else...

Kyon ..maaraa ki nahi senti....

2003-04-21T19:41:00.000-07:00

I have wasted abt an hour to try and write something which I thought I would be able to pen down.....
But screwed mind of mine...I have nothing to write....
An absolute void ...it is....

Wish me better luck for the next time.....

2003-04-14T20:19:00.000-07:00

Library madhyey thoda vaachat baslo hoto...eka project chi sahitya saamugri gola karat hoto...kahitari othaanvar gholat hota...laavani saarkhi chaal asavi...ekdam utspurt puutpuutlo...

Patheybaapurao hyanchya kaahi oli hotya tya....

"natrangi naar jashi kaasotyaala paar, maansaanni sodla thaara ....hichyaasaathi
Paatlaala maartey dolaa, Kulkarnyala ghaaltey vaara, maastaraanni sodli shaala..... hichyasaathi
ga baai gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa"

2003-04-09T15:32:00.000-07:00

A person whom I have come to know quite recently can find flaws in each and everybody's face that he comes across.
He also is gifted with a vivid style with which he can come up with his demeaning descriptions.
And he is no greek god himself....parr kya karey...typical "kokanastha brahman" from "punyanagari"....(Guess ..now I am being judgemental here...but wot the heck...this is my blog......I can write wotever I wanna write)........He even boasts of a aristocratic lineage....says...his family is the family of "peshwas"...yeah right wotever....and that perhaps gives him an excellent excuse to evaluate others from his seat of "fuuckin" pride....
I mean its ok......if he comes up with a real humorous description of a person .......but speaking about all and sundry in the same 'putting down' ( mi kay great ahe ...bagha!!) fashion really puts me off.....

People ( my so called 'friends' included) like to hear to his horrid descriptions.....and another of the only pastimes that are entertained over here....is silly riposte...
The better you can make others the butt end of ur ridicule the better U r.....I find it worthless...this is no kinda friendly banter ......
Kissi ki sirf Gaand marte raho...basssss....

I really had to learn these tactics to atleast an extend where I could survive amongst these guys......I was really bad at that ......Now I guess I am atleast quipped to an extend where ...mey eitt kaa jawab patharr sey dey sakta hu......Guess this is some kinda "toughening" process.....But I really HATE it whenever I have to do it......." moreover, Guys!...u lack professionalism....."
"Abhi , batao...dusra kya kar rahaa hai....usse karney do naa , yaar.....aapko takliff nahi dey rahaa hey naa.......to phir.......parr nahi.......uski har ek kii hui cheez par kuch tippanni karni hi hai.......I guess another of those typical "punyanagari" traits......

Itni dil ki bhadaass shayad iss liye nikal kar aa rahi hai ......kyun ki .....Chhodo bhi !!!! .......kuch cheezon ka kya asar hota hai.......kabhi pata nahi lag payeegaa....
These are anxious moments for me.....the situation is pregnant with some anticipation......GOD !! my language !!!
I am expecting the results of a couple of exams......and I am shit scared !!...thats it......

2003-04-04T09:49:00.000-08:00

Siinging the Bird Song......

This place is so full of small winged-angels going about their carefree way bringing to Life the lilting sounds of nature's harmonious cacophony to my sheer delight...
This place is full of birds called as "smaller woodland birds " .
It's home to a variety of multi-hued warblers,wrens, thrashers,vireos, fly-catchers,orioles, jays and quite a few raptors too.

The scene : Friday morning, April the fourth....

I callously stepped out of my place in a red and navy blue 'Rugbies' and a blue jeans...
The air was a little more chilly than it was the day before......But I could hear all the exuberant song of tender two-winged courtship filling the air with the scent of romance just right for spring-time...
I generally go about observing these feathered bipedals.....on my way to school....for I Iike the different 'only-can-be-painted-by-nature' colors and sweet, joyous voices that these lovers sing with....
I can't even recognise all of them...but I just like to observe them.....their innocent eyes and their unaffected gestures..the natural swirls of their flexible necks ....Sometimes I can hear them what they wanna say to me....Not much though...."Get outta my way , Fool !!"..perhaps...

I came down to the building called "engineering south"....(master minds of electronico-electricians and computer twaddlers dwell here....brood here.......)....was on my way out to the 'Union'....had not even opened the door completely to my way out ...and Lo!!...I found myself face-to-face, eye-to-eye with this winged-angel.....A complete splash of sparkling red......Singing to the tumultous tune that his mate appreciates......It was the male "Northern Cardinal" and his sweet voice ..there....sitting on the railing support ....

For a moment ..I was completely reaction-less, trying to be as steady as possible in an effort not to disturb him ...wanted to observe this marvel of a beauty for as much time as possible....But I guess ..I do not all the time send positive vibes for my loved winged ones...or may be it is the inborn timidity with which these wonderful creatures are made....
Our gaze did not last long.... and........ back it went to the shrubs where I have recently found that this "not-so-often" siting has made a home for its loved ones......

This experience did actually simmer down my restless mind a bit.....Last night I had a terrible time sleeping.....I dunno why...
I generally dunno the reasons about most of the things that happen around ...or find myself in.....Gives me some food for thought ..eh...

Wish I can buy myself a handsome camera soon enough to get a few snaps of these amazing creatures.....
I would love to take up a road trip just for the sake of getting some images of some of these great feathers from this land of natural beauty......Once I get a decent snapper for me......and once I get some decent knowledge about these winged wonders...... Doesn't seem that awful lotta wishful thinking ..huh...

2003-03-24T12:09:00.000-08:00

Perfect Weekend.....tainted a bit.....

It was saturday morning....I had just completed my first painting...(real colors).....At last after two days of patient labor.....I had finallly completed it (though I thought that another coat of orange would still be needed) ...But I was happy that atlast it had taken a form not so different than what I had actually visualised initially...

I was waiting for my roomies,Ashish and Abhijeet, to arrive from their spring breaks...... had a chicken pizza for lunch and I dunno when , while reading 'Penrose', I fell asleep...suddenly I could hear my phone ringing ..and lo!...a sweet voice at the other end inquired, "Can I talk to Mayuresh?..I am Shuchita here"...I could not believe my luck....The Faineant herself calling upon me...and then a conversation followed ...taking interesting twists and not-so-interesting turns at times( interrupted by my occasional yawns)....and here I am now "the 200 minutes " man...

My roomies came in at about 6.00 pm...and I showed them my most recent experiment with the brush with quite some hesitation.....I guess they must have really liked it cuz Ashish got so much excited that without any further delay he had even hung up (making the adequate arrangements with half a dozen screws/bolts) the painting in our sitting room real neatly..It actually had adorned the place of utmost pride in that place .....the first thing one will see after entering our place...
That really has served as a boost to my coloring spirits now...though I cannot buy anymore time now for working upon it till the second week of May...

We went out for a mexican dinner with Harshvardhan (Abhijeet's elder bro...who works with Johnson Controls at Oklahoma city...and drives a silken Honda Accord)...waiting with our bated breaths for the WorldCup Cricket finals to start ( 2.00am Sunday...phew...what a wretched time)...between India and Australia....
We started on our way to Wilham dorm to watch the match on the big screen at about 1.20 am...and were there before the coin was "tossed"....India elected to field first....Australian and Indian teams, both started the game on confident notes...but then ...we saw the worst ever "hammering" that the Indian attack will probably ever take...the bowlers were smashed out of the park with such scant respect........ as the maggots taken and despisingly thrown out from the dog's hind by the old man, his master, who willingly belabored to do so voluntarily , just for the sake of love for his dog........it was love for the Cup that made them do so here........India had lost the match!!
My spirits had taken a beating...and so had my senses from the Sleep god..that I promptly came back home and slept.....It was 6.00 am Sunday,then.....
At abt 11.00 am , I got a call from my parents asking me to come online for a voice chat...and what luck...I met Kinnari online ........chatted with her (and my parents)...till abt 12.30 pm

Something took over me after the call as I volunteered to make "batata vadas" for lunch.....and after another shot at a patient and meticulous effort ...I had really made some great "batata vadas"....must have had atleast 8 each......the "receipt" ("poch pavati) of which was evident from the fact that every one of us had taken to some satisfied sleep for a couple of hours after lunch.....(the same way I sleep after a lunch of 'puran polis')

At abt 5.30 pm ( after such delicious slumber)....we decided to go to Lake Blackwell for a stroll ......and did some shopping after that....also picked up the DVD of "addicted to love" on our way back......( Meg Ryan....Wow)
A general idea of making some tomato soup and chinese chicken fried rice for dinner floated in the air for a while...was ratified by our consenting minds...and after a hour and half we were morselling at some great Chucken fried rice ( Courtesy : Abhijeet) and dipping our buds in some great "cream of Tomato ala' kulkarni" .....

Got hooked up to the DVD on the laptop....and fell asleep... dreaming of Meg Ryan .....
Ashish had taken the effort of putting off the lappie and putting it in its place after the movie....thanks ashish...

And Now....its monday...back to the sucking reality......
This was almost a near perfect weekend of fun and relaxation....only if India had won the World cup ...

2003-03-18T17:19:00.000-08:00

I LOVE MY THINKING COUCH

…………….Is it a war on Iraq or is it a war by America?

Does America really need a war? Any large-scale punitive action against a pro-terrorist and fundamentalist country like Iraq will herald the same results as have the others before – pain, destruction, death and hatred with a vengeance.

It was a different situation during the Gulf War. But somehow it got linked to the resurgence of the American economy of the late nineties. Actually, it had nothing to do with it. It was a mere coincidence that the technology and internet-led economy surge got attributed to the Gulf war. No such coincidences can be expected every time and war is definitely not the instrument which should be used to experiment to find out if it will do it again. America cannot hope to be lucky every time.

History is testimony enough that hegemony only reaps immense hatred which again tries to resort to subvert tactics more deadly and dangerous than ever before and more determined to unsettle the established definitions of free enterprise and industry, freedom and security of life.

All that has gone in to building such a great nation and a model capitalist economy stands to a brutal test here just for being subject to some parochial aims and short-sighted motives to-be-achieved of some underachiever of an American president. Instead, America could initiate a process with which it has had maximum success in countering all the other ideologies of nation-building that have tried to counter its self-propagated form of capitalism. It could counter Iraq’s immature stubbornness and the likes by ushering in all forms of illusionary enticements and neo-richness that has proved time and over not to fail to enamor the human psyche into the endless chasms of consumerist capitalism ala black-holes.

One much-debated way is to lift all the sanctions on these rogue countries and push the ‘MacDonald and Coke’ consumer culture with such celeral alacrity, settling them down to indispensibly accustomizing themselves to these comforting instruments of human physicalities. Great vision has to evolve to severe the severe resistance that these folks have for all things western. But America has always been a great leader worthy of emulation and even unmistakable imitation on the fronts of marketing and sales gimmickry. So nothing can be thought impossible to wield this resistance.

The situation as it stands now is that the power of the dollar is waning and the huge thought that goes in to rebuilding its muscle should take in to account that such acts of employing pulverizing force can have repercussions unthought of previously.For the first time, America is finding its own ideology running on uncharted grounds with some of the colossal economic disappointments and financial fiascos in the form of the fall of huge corporations like Enron and World-Tel and the near bankruptcies of its airline industry coming under the microscope and creating a dent in its once-so-perfectly-planned-and thought-of capitalist definitions, the pillars of the mammoth structure of its economy.

But a time comes when all definitions have to change and a complete revamp of approach is needed. As was change necessary for all the other ideologies like that in Germany in the 30s and early 40s and the USSR in the post-war era, so can be thought necessary for America now. But change is such a huge shift in the prevailing inertia. Nobody likes to overcome their own inertia because such a change demands huge rethinking subject to various experiments which one can never be sure of with regard to their results. But this is America. America has always been the foremost exponent of such an exercise whenever the situations have demanded it, though on concentrated levels of science and technology, but never on the levels of its ideology for it was never required before as all its previous moves have always paid off handsomely in support of the great American dream. So why not the ideology now?

Gandhi could tackle the exploitative ideology of the then British empire with his controversial though path-breaking and effective doctrine of non-violence. So also can America overcome to its own capitalist advantage, the terrorist ideologies of the Islam fundamentalist world by coming up with some incredible doctrine which does not follow the oft-treaded paths of large-scale war and death, pain and destruction, for it again comes round and fashions a circle of the recurrent phases of war-destruction and momentary but unstable peace.

American politics has to come out of its self-casted spell of hypocrisy that fails to think beyond the achievement of short-sighted, short-term goals without taking in to account the responsibility of creating new, innovative possibilities to end the crises over difficulties like terrorism and the like, contrary to what it has always almost succeeded in doing in the fields of technology, infrastructure and industry. America should stop the foolish pursuit of struggling to try to keep itself as the lone super power and instead adorn the mantle of the world leader in all cause good and elevate itself to such a level from where no emerging or emergent superpowers can possibly challenge its legitimacy. For superpowers are made and broken on the ledgers that calculate and constantly update the capabilities of mass-destruction but a world leader is counted on its constructive and re-constructive capabilities. War of weapons can never be a solution to any problem. As a self-professed world leader it has to stop such acts of myopic selfishness and look beyond to achieving peace, security for life and freedom and also furthering its own interests by pushing in reforms that will encourage the deprived masses to find their way towards effective consumerist and capitalist advantages.

The issue here is “Is it a war on Iraq” or “Is it a war by America?” .If it is a war on Iraq on the grounds to end terror then it is utterly unnecessary on all grounds that can be ever justified to counter terror because terror is a product of economic insecurity and unstable ideology. Morover, any terror based on fundamentalism and religious fanaticism will die its due death as it finds no proper and continuous support that can be justified on any moral grounds as that are made up to believe that they are based upon. Infact, as Oscar Wilde points out that there is nothing that is ever moral or immoral. There is always a distinction on whether that thing is good or bad. And the terms “good” and “bad” have always been associated with established meanings and explanations which can be supported by historical appendices. War is definitely bad and terror on religious grounds is even deplorable. Iraq and nations alike that thrive on terrorism will have to change or depart and so also will all fundamentalism. Islam fundamentalism is struggling to maintain its identity and legitimacy and it will have to start identifying itself with the world spirit or will have to depart. Koran never advocates anything that is even remotely bad or harmful. It is just that the teachings of the holy book have to been taken with context to the modern times and that is totally dependent on its disciple how to interpret it in all its good sense. War and terror–to-counter-terror are no solutions. There are various other ways that can be applied towards solving the crisis over this issue and a lot more needs to be done and experimented by us all to resolve this issue.

On the other hand, the other question is “Is this a war by America?” If it is a war by America under fear of terror and insecurity for the freedom of Americans and all citizens of the world alike, then I would say that the average 200 pound of American muscle and fat (and the American stock exchange) does not have even an ounce of gut in itself to believe in their own sacred principles that has made this great nation and that they get easily bogged down by fear for their life. Life and freedom is definitely invaluable but the answer to this issue would lie in the fact whether America succeeds to convince the terror folk of the world that there is equal importance to their life and freedom as well, that it has to be used for constructive purposes and to pull in all the positive energies for the betterment of the world, that there is mutual respect, opportunity and equality for everybody’s life and freedom. Punishment is definitely there on offer for the erring and the incorrigible but its forms are to be decided by everybody upon a consensus and not upon the whims of two irrational people who want to straddle the life and freedom of the masses on their loins and use it to achieve their own selfish purpose whenever they feel its use necessary. It is not through errant and hasty or rash action that this sacrilege can be ended but it will be through patience and actions governed by thoughtful rationale that this issue can be resolved. Time has to be bought and great vision sought to find an agreeable solution.

It has to be understood that every thing cannot have an instant formula. This is no American weight-reduction program.

2003-03-17T13:33:00.000-08:00

The blue bird of serene power lights up the labyrinth of ghastly ghosts.The extreme superstition and the parochial vision stupefied into a kowtow is forcing its way out of its illusion. The restive spirits of empowerment are once again at play.I see the earth and the sky again, the sun and the moon again. I feel the upsurge of the presence of the warmth of revealing knowledge that once prevailed with its fragrant wisdom in these ruins that once were so complete in other lives of fading memory.Now coming back again with the same,if not better, vengeance. The flight seems to be coming back with wings so full of powerful air.
Let it come like a gushing gale...with speeds of unimaginable strength. Let the light, so illuminating, stare back straight in to the eyes.

2003-02-27T09:18:00.000-08:00

KHAAI KE PAAN BANARAS WALLA.................

I was at the window.
It was snowing outside.
Again !!
I was sipping at some freshly brewed hot coffee........

"Paan".....the perfect culmination of a culinary tempest !
Sheer memories of it makes me quite sentimentally effusive at times....especially after I have had some "lazeez" biryani or morselled some great Chicken Chettinad.

In India and particularly in Mumbai, I had two 'Paanwallahs' whom I could call my own.

The first one at Dombivli...our dear 'Chaurasia'.
A literal hangout place for us friends.
"kay hua bhaiyya, bahut din dikhe naahi?". These are the very same familiar words that used to greet us at his shop.
" Waah ! Paan khao to hamaari hi khao!"
These deifying words and the honied intonation of his voice perfected by years of sound study of the art of retail business used to be so very devoid of affectations.
Somehow they always used to give undue significance to our occasional "slipper-in-feet", "late-night-tryst-with-Taste" rendezvous at his place, as if we were his most treasured customers, his most valuable "Kadardaan".

Chaurasia ( or 'Panditji' as we used to call him) was himself a nice ripe oldie....as senile and gray were his hair, so also was ripe the sweetness of his tongue and the neatness of his 'Paan'. It was something more than ordinarily pleasant about his countenence and demeanor that used to express itself through his warm, welcoming smile showing off his tobacco-rusted set of teeth.

His feel-great placebos had a great variety.
My favorite was "Calcutta Masala" .(Or should I write "kolkata Masala"?). An unoccasional fling at a "Magai" used to be the only digression.
This "Calcutta Masala" that me and my cousin used to have, had actually evolved through the rigorous churns of the art and exercise of "paan-making" and perfected by the vibrant and eclectic tastes of real connoisseurs like us.

Panditji always exactly knew the exact quantity of each ingredient that used to go in our Paans.He knew every different preference, like the kind of "Salli" supari I preferred or the 'Kabuli Khajoor' pieces that my cousin preferred or the brand of 'Thandak' that I always saught.
He could even perfectly guess my choice for the day, whether it's going to be 'Mango' or 'Pineapple' flavored "chatni" for my 'Paan' that day, just by the mood and clothes that I used to wear.

I remember this hilarious incident.Even though I was such a regular at his place, he had asked me once, "Saheb, Katri ki pakki?" This ingratutious question coming from him had hurt my religious sentiments that I had for his 'Paan' and shaken my confidence in him then. But then he had quickly realised his folly and reverted saying, "Maafi kar diyo bhaiyya, Bhool ho gayi."

Actually what had happened, was not completely his mistake. That day the shop was clamoured by an unusually high number of customers. In that mob was also a 'Couple' standing right beside me. It seemed that they were quite newly married. What had actually happened was that the lady had moved more towards my side than the side of her better half. That was what had actually caused all the confusion for him.
We had laughed over it then.

That was the only time when he had ever asked me about my preferences for 'my' Paan, save the very first couple of times.

I hope that he still makes me "my" paan when I go there again.
But you never know....Caveat Emptor

It was still snowing outside !

The other one was at Chembur. His shop used to fall on my way from Chembur station to my office. I worked at this place at Chembur for only six months. But this 'Paanwallah' I will ever remember.

"Chhotu (singh)" was not much of the real 'Paanwallah' types...more of a 'Mumbaiyya' paanwallah i.e. a mini-general stores than a paanwallah.
He was quite young and pert.

I used to go for an unoccasional 'smoke' at his place. I never had to ask for my cigarette though, save the very first time. It was always offered to me without me asking for it.
It was always there first, my "Classic Milds"....

He had also started to follow the sequence of a certain set of my actions.
I always used to be on the Move as a part of my job save some rare times when I used to be there at the office till the end of my working day.(about 6.00 pm)
I used to go to his shop for a smoke on my way back home. At such times he would, offering me my cigarette, greet me with "Aaj baahar nahi gaye the kya, bhaiyya?", for he knew that whenever I would come there at such time of the day, I would waylay there pretending to stand there and smoke till about 6.15 pm when a certain beautiful girl used to pass by the place.Lets call her the 'Mysterious Girl'.
Then he would smile at me with a mischievous twinkle at his teeth.
He knew that I would never give up on any chance to get to see this 'Mysterious Girl'.
Then whenever I used to ask for a second helping of my tobacco fetish, he used to deny warmly saying, "Ek saath do nahein lena, bhaiyya."

It is with certain people that we develop an unknowing bond of affection and a sense of relation without ever realizing it.
These are the people who add their own unimitable flavors and idiosyncratic colors to our life, making it wothy of living it again.

It is not only the 'Trick' that a certain person conjures up that makes the experience worthy of watching it, but it is also the person,his character and the warmth of the dialogue that adds spice to the entire experience.

JAAGO BHAI ! PADHAYI JO KARNI HAI !!!
MATH KI MID-TERM JO HAI !!!!

2003-02-22T15:18:00.000-08:00

I do not know why I have to wonder as to what makes a person stick to a certain category of company. More than often that we can get to make a choice about it, it’s a peremptory adjustment to the circumstantial movements around us in the form of similarities that seem to match our own likings. It’s when we actually spend some time with the people we have around us that we come to know the real compatibility points of such companions.

When we are in a secured atmosphere as in the environs of our own home, we have a relatively greater choice about whom to keep company with and whom not to. This may be due to a certain set of people whose companionship we are assured of come what may. But when we leave these environs is when our own sense of making a choice being tested. Sometimes you seem to run out of all luck as can be desired by you in this regard. Sometimes you have to acquiesce with discontent with whatever choice you can possibly make in those given circumstances.

But we should all realize that nobody is a perfect package.

We can like a few people for their innate imperfection and the way they carry their heart on their collar. Though they have their share of follies they are basically good people at heart. We tend to like a few people because their behavior always seems to be above any kind of suspicion. Some people for their straight-from-the-heart naivety. Some people because of their on-the-table smartness. Some people for no reason at all.

But we do not make friends with all whom we come to like although it generally serves as an initiating condition. Friendship has an inexplicable bond of understanding running through it strengthened by affection and a sincere effort to improve mutual comprehensibility. Two real friends might not even initially share same interests. But this intangible bond helps to develop a meaningful dialogue between them. The only thing that they come to value is their friendship. They do not nit-pick each other’s faults. What they try to do is to help each other to minimize them and in the process grow as individuals and thus grow in their friendship. They do not play one-upmanship. What they value is a healthy competition amongst them that serves as a whetstone for their individual inner excellence to shine brighter than ever before.

What we all should try to realize is that we do not have to look out for them. It just happens. U just get lucky !!!

I am still waiting for someone like this to cross my path on this foreign strand.

2003-02-11T20:57:00.000-08:00

Thank you !!

2003-02-11T13:07:00.000-08:00

I was once asked to share about one biggest mistake that I had ever made. I had many,but none that I could so starkingly recollect.
I could have easily made something up for the ocassion.But I do not recollect why I did not do it then.Such mnemonic lapses have no importance in my realm.Though a few things, even I do hold sacred. My musings are at the top of the list. Though they do not spill anything substantial, they fascinate me as also do the charms of a good book and those of a lovely lass.

"A woman of beauty is a joy forever"
Thus spake the poet John Keats

He had so many beautiful things to say to a charming girl. I do remember a few of his lines.

Had you lived in days of old
O what wonders had been told
Of thy lively countenance
And thy humid eyes that dance
In the midst of their own brightness
In the very fane of brightness
Over which thine eyebrows, leaning
Picture out each lovely meaning
In a dainty bend thy lie,
Like to streaks across the sky
Or the feathers from a crow
Fallen on a bed of snow
Of thy dark hair that extends
Into many graceful bends
And behind each ample curl
Peeps the richness of a pearl
Downward too flows many a tress
With a glossy waviness
Full, and round like globes that rise
From the censer to the skies
Thro' sunny air. Add too, the sweetness
Of thy honied voice: the neatness
Of thine ankle lightly turned
With those beauties scarce discerned
Kept with such sweet privacy
That thy seldom meet the eye
Of the little loves that fly
Round about with eager pry
Saving when, with freshening lave
thou dip them in the taintless wave
Like twin water lilies born
In the coolness of the morn

Such a wonderful expression !!

Spare me my lord! for now I surely know one of the silliest, yet so unregretable, follies I have committed till date.

" A thing of beauty is a joy forever"

2003-02-11T10:10:00.000-08:00

It is but happenstance that has oft led me to see many things in a different light.
Almost as if another vista opens that gives a different sight, a different perspective about a certain thing on which I had previously thought that my views were perfected. This sojourn (wishful thinking!) to a foreign land teaches me a thing every now and then. Most of all, it tutors me in the thought of dynamism. It asks me questions anew.
I am a fairly unobservant person and a lack of notable qualities is partly compensated by a virtue of self-criticism. It is alike a developing neural network that constantly strives to adjust the weights and biases to reach a satisfactory decision boundary. Self criticism keeps me alive and in the present vibrant atmosphere, where I get an opportunity to meet and interact with people of different beliefs, lifestyles, sizes and color, I tend to culture my reactions and responses. These subdued interactions but impede growth.
I have often observed and wondered about people who do not even think twice to express their opinion about other people. I completely lack that faculty. These opinionated minds seem free to form their opinions about a certain thing or a person at a blink of an eye. I need to absorb a face, an artifact, a painting or a person’s behavior to form any opinion about it. I feel a need to analyze it. I cannot laugh at any and every thing. I need time. Always.
Though impulsive at times, thought-bred are my impulses too. Perhaps these overt indulgences in thought have to make way for concrete action. Deeds. Tangible achievements.
My resume should look good then.

2003-02-06T08:33:00.000-08:00

Plight of Flight

A mystic bird, once with a limitless wing
Spread his horizon with a fiesty fling
A voice but now he sings with for pomp and pelf
A voice within haunts, which he once sang to himself

A tree he finds oft not for a careless whisper
Trapped and destined now for all popular temper
The free wind is a foe now as much is the sky
Flight is still spent, but all choice he lost to fly

Flight and voice were his two most wonderful gifts
Its only a different cage that he now shifts
For one of them he lost to some silver ungracious
Another lay asunder for some praise unprecious

A fleeting memory of a wood in full bloom
Dark are but clouds now, a veil of utter gloom
Mnemonic flashes of a soothing moonlight 'pon a basking wing
Freedom forfeit now for a penny's clatter and cling

Reflections acruing from behind golden bars lead him in to a trance
Desire once of a few scattered twills of a sun-cracked branch
Lord! trade he would this star-lit fiefdom
For a kiss from a deareth and a moment of freedom

2003-01-03T11:17:00.000-08:00

LIVING OF THE DECAYING

Sitting on Nature's pot
Reminiscence has but caught
As I revel in pedantic livery
And unravel a future jittery

Struggling to find humorous strife
In this causal sojourn rife
With the monotonies of mediocrity
Lost and oblivious to austere serenity

I dream every night
Of Angels descending on my Sight
But the Day brings in unmistakable throes
Of quotidian misery and scrolls of Human woes

Melancholy Lights up my daily pipe
As a vile cup from my lips I do wipe
Then I try to find comfort in cheap humor
And refuge of a vulgar dandy's mid-summer

Ignorance now lays its cold shroud
Upon my wisdom as a dark cloud
Enthusiastic avarice blanks out all motive
Appetite rules, All effort to fight is rendered furtive

Selling my Life everyday for a barrel of vice
Delirious of Deceit that Flesh can entice
A company of prodigal vandals now I do keep
I see all Light fade, And a subvert night creep

My Spirit to smoke and my soul astray
As I bury my own corpse a neat inch everyday

2002-09-10T09:57:00.000-07:00

Ode to being a great Average American.....

Thursday nights are a regular when it comes down for a true average american teenager to drown his exploits of the bygone week in a tall keg of beer...
weekends being official weekends...the great average American has the license to drown...in alcohol..and gets so "dips-so-much"maniac that the average twenty some-thing can never seem to make the difference between his pregnant horse and his mom on a permanent friday-saturday-nights "schedule".
For that matter, I wonder if he ever does find any difference.
Being paranoid about the "schedule"(pronounced "ske-dule") is another important trait of being a true average american.

The mass American dishabbile is born out of a genuine belief that sun rises to tan and...that nobody can ever see them at night...
The twilight still remains.
But I have never seen an American in twilight.
Except on the beaches where it is de riguer to flash all the flesh that he/she has. And believe me..they are boringly exciting players at that game.

American sport is as ridiclous as is the idea of a dazzling English beauty, though I do have to agree that the Scots and the Irish are a much thorough breed and bearable than their lowland companions. And I can use such a horshish parlance(not 'horsy') to describe the highlanders but..sorry.... no such comparisions for the true great average Americans hold any water.

The true great average American always 'stinks' (of true american perfume) and seems to have mastered the trick of being excellent pretenders of being deadly practical in his routine survival.( of the pushing)

The true great average american is an absolute social loner and is great at that craft.
He can never acquiesce to any incidence of being robbed of his privacy: the only exceptions being his Second wife, his cat, the photoframe of his dog who died last year, his pet squirrel, his Greenpeace activists' batch, his 1959 chevy and the Italian restaurant on the next block.

The true average American 'girl' has all the misconceptions of dear lady Cinderella and she can never get out of the idea of being 'hotter' than the 'French' but cannot go thinking beyond the disproportionate( though amazonian )upper frontiers of the quintessential bimbo, Pamela Anderson...and ..the ohh-so-tall legs of Cindy"crawling'Crawford.
(she never seems to get bored of crawling in Californian sands)

This great average American story will continue, essentially featuring the "rosewood tree"(.....or is it the pearwood tree), Marlyn Monroe, the Great American band from Liverpool, California......the "Beetles" ......and the greatest average american pornstars "Boobsie Cocker" and "Dick Sixtynines".....

The bugles blow in the greatest average American style.......!!!!.tay tay nan!!!.....

2002-09-05T10:51:00.000-07:00

I guess I seemed to have lost touch with all my literary instincts lately...
At times...I feel I have lost touch with most of my instincts
Cuz..
I feel ...lately, my actions have been the consequence of a sense of apprehension out of a undecision to decide the way of my reaction to every small thing I encounter in this new place...
Which means, a lot of self-deliberation goes in at most of the times...and..
The natural instinctive reflex is lost
but then ...I do not know what took over me...perhaps a saintly spirit ...and the following things hit me again as they oft did when I was down there in my 'Matrubhoomi'...

I do not know if this is what I should say abt what exactly hit me...but I guess ..It often happens that the Expression can not match the Creation...This I call Inward Creation.....or the creation which could not condescend itself to thoroughly acquiesce with the coquettish charms of Lady Expression

Whatever hit me but...took the form of following words...

I see the squirrels play with gay
And the butterfly drops in to say
The rustling wind danc'd up the screen
I see Her canvas all painted Green

My mind strays with the Sun
I know not hwere His rays do run
Wintering thoughts I never knew
I have them though in this Blue

My past does rock my faltering mind
My Now does sit 'long me at my hind
I treasure though my soul supple
My heart but seems tainted all Purple

My vain effort to struggle free
From chains that try to strangle me
The trodden path, I leave but tread
This weary sojourn leaves my feet all Red

My fight against my vile self
My fight against my greed for pelf

But I will win, O! I will win

Complete truimph, I ask for nothing less
And win back my spirit, all Colourless

2002-08-25T11:27:00.000-07:00

Life is a sin but the most charming one.
Knowledge is all artifice and reading the most pleasurable of vices.
But do we all have the temerity to admit it?
Nature is deceiving and yet so incomplete.
Art is complete.
Human activity is quotidian.

The human sexual activity, so seemingly natural to the blatant imperfection of human caricature, seems to be so natural as it is partly due to the seemingly perfect environs that nature seems to put upon it.
Nature, as perfect does it seem; in egotistic practicality, is actually the limitation of human imagination which can only stretch its vastly myopic vision to this idea of perfection that nature seems to portray.
In fact, the great coincidence, that someting as ill-refined as human sexual activity should be realisable in progeny, makes it an important deficiency that ought to be the very nature of imperfect human survival, though something as scientific and crude as genetics would suggest otherwise.

Body is the object of study of science as most of the science is modelled by analyzing its activity.
Analyzing takes the charm away from the thing and makes it a fact.
Fact is detrimental to Art.
Life is a fact and so cannot mirror Art.
Art is grand and life isn't, though the only common thing about the two of them is that both are Sins; one beautiful the other dreary.

Art happens in the human mind though it has to take help of something as crude as Expression.
Expression can be good or bad but Art still reigns supreme.
Only the human mind comes close to being as perfect as Art and not Nature.
It is hard to believe that something as perfect as the Mind should need as imperfect an Expression as body.
But then this seems to be the Irony of human imperfection and its capital cause too.
All science is therefore crude and Imperfect.
This definitively leads us to say that whatever is imperfect is either scientific or is the sole property of the Body and not of the Mind.
Art is the mind; its expression its body.

All said and done, words are there to be minced and lead us to libido ad absurdum.

PS: If u guys have anything to write about, perhaps a story; perhaps a story about me then please do write in reply as I like to read fiction.

2002-08-20T14:14:00.000-07:00

August 20, 2002

Its been some hectic fortnight that I have been in the US now.
This US thing has so many misconceptions stuck to it.
Its like this some BIG dream to a few people that I have had the opportunity to meet.
But nothing of that sorts for me...as of yet.
May be..becuz I have landed at the wrong end of this big country or.... maybe I did not have any pre-conceived illusions about the US ..or... may be ...I am still in a daze ..so as not to absorb and digest the fact that I really see the Sun the other way round than I used to do it back down there in India.
May be I do not know what I do not know or ...may be...I do know what I do not know but I can't figure it out what I need to know to know what I need to know..
Ahhh...this is getting a lot circumlocutious...if I may use this equally circumlocutious word to describe what I feel needs to be pointed out as a circumlocution...
guys..this really puts u off..doesn't it?
Anyways, I guess so that I have started on a good note in this COWBOY land and perhaps this sure does look the way that I deserve..or may be ...I just got a little more lucky.
Sometimes I feel that small things make u realise a lot more than what big things fail to do quite so often.
Or..maybe...big things make u realise only BIG things and that small things make u realise some things very soon ..and that ..big things take a long time to make u realise what they are suppose to make u realise..because big things take big time to realise.
Small things add more to our life than big things do.