To Charla, for making people happy. :)
"Oye! Dhyaan se! Don't fall off." Niharika stared at Rohan as he stood leaning from the train compartment door. The wind blew through his hair making it look like a comet's tail. The wind pierced it's way through his eyes forcing them to close. After some time he turned to Niharika and said, "Wanna try?"
"Pagal hain. I don't wanna do this,"
"Come on. Please"
"Okay," she said. Her eyes had that tinge of excitement, which probably everyone has when they do something 'awesome' for the first time.
"Great! Now hold these two bars and look outside" instructed Rohan.
And Niharika did accordingly. And the wind blew through her hair. And it pierced her eyes. But she kept looking outside. The wind has it's own magic.
Rohan then took over and started looking outside. And then he yelled.
"Fuck You!"
"Dude why did you do that," asked Niki(typing Niharika again again is slighting irritating)
"Man, I like standing here. It's like the wind is strong, but you can cut right through it and stay unaffected. Duniya bhi aisi kamini cheez hain. It fucks you, but you hardly come out unaffected. The world changes you. You fit yourself in the world. But here you can just be you, and still win. I like it. Oh and I love the way the wind blows into my hair. It's so cool."
Both of them smiled. Rohan was now just standing at the door.
Niki asked,"So tell me one thing, is changing yourself the only way to face the world?"
"Certainly not. You can change the world. But changing yourself is just easier and the benefit is immediate"
"True." replied Niki.
"Dooooood(Dude) look at that!!" Rohan said pointing at a random field.
"What?" asked Niki
"It's a scare-crow! In an actual field! Have you ever seen one?"
"No, but okay." she said smilingly.
At that point Devna came.
"Tell me you've come to brush your teeth" said Rohan.
"No, what are you guys upto?"
"Aye haye. We just saw a scare-crow. Isn't that awesome? Have you ever seen one?" said an excited Rohan.
Devna made a weird expression and said "Of course I have. Maybe you should camp in the country side more."
Everyone started laughing.
"Acha I have to take a piss, so bye!" And Devna left.
"Dooooood, look outside. What the fuck is this? Trees. Fields. No animals. And more trees. What is this? Kaun rehta hain yahan? And do these people vote?" asked Rohan.
"Hmm...True."
"Man, you know what would be super awesome, that if we were dictators with supernatural powers. And then we could destroy these pseudo-hills with like some great flashing red light coming from our palm." said Rohan.
"No yaar. People would get killed" said Niki.
"Gee. You are an altruist. So how about we come to these tree areas once in a year, show off our flashing power to the people and go back?"
"Yah that's nice. You are truly a power hungry slut. You know what I think about this?"
"Nahi. Batao."
"I think this is very romantic."
"It is."
And they smiled, still looking outside, hoping that one day they would stand here with the person they love.
"You wanna go back?" said Rohan.
"Yeah. Let's go back." said Niki.
And they walked back inside. And the wind continued to blow.
26 November 2009
7 October 2009
The First Lecture
To Devna Soni. I will always be your Faccha.
The professor stared silently at the classroom door. Years earlier he had been on the other side of the door waiting for his first college lecture to start. Never did he realise, until now of course, that the feeling would be far weirder and worse than it was then. This was going to be embarrassing, he thought.
He opened the classroom doors and saw a group of nearly 70 students. All of them, all 70 of them, turned their heads into his direction. They placed themselves on their benches and everything was at peace. The professor gulped and walked towards the teachers table.
“Good Morning. I am Mr. X and I am going to teach you Microeconomics for this Semester,” he said.
Everyone in the first row wrote down his name and subject. Mr. X was still freaked out. He continued.
“You will find your syllabus in the brochure that you received at the time of your admission. It is largely the same course that you’ve studied in school, just in greater detail. Are there any questions?”
Not a soul in the classroom said anything. Mr. X’s hands and feet went cold. He feared this only, lack of matter in his opening lecture. But then suddenly something happened.
“In the circles of education, there is something called the Last Lecture. Every professor before his retirement is informed about his Last Lecture. In that final lecture, the teacher sums up his life, what he has learnt and conveys whatever he wishes to tell his students. It is like a dying man’s message. A final message that will alter their thinking or at least so is the aim.”
“But what has been extremely less talked about or perhaps never has been, is The First Lecture. Every teacher has a first class, and no one knows what to say. Everyone just ends up talking about the subject they teach and then to kill time, tell a class of over 50 to introduce themselves. What I think is that, the last lecture should in fact be the first. It is because the earlier you confuse young minds the better it is.”
“I might sound like a fool, but listen carefully. The older you get, the more adjusted your mind is to the world. And that is exactly what some people want—the continuation of status quo. But if you are exposed to various thoughts, to various life experiences and to varied teachings, it is then that you are confused, and it is only now that you make an informed choice. The ideal market is that of perfect competition”
He stopped and took a close look at the class. Some seemed interested, some seemed bored and the first row was still taking notes, as if this was going to be questioned on.
“What I have learnt and what I know of this Subject is what I am going to transfer to you. But I feel the duty of a teacher goes far beyond that. During my education, I have had many teachers. Definitely more than a 100. But there are only a few that I remember today. It is to those few that I feel truly indebted. And that is because they taught me how to live life. They told me about their mistakes, so that I don’t commit the same errors. And I am going to tell you those and my own mistakes, so that life is easier for you.”
Mr. X paused.
“However, there is a flip side to that. I may ask you to abstain in a certain situation, but if your consciousness asks for you to do something else, you trash my idea and go ahead with yours. Because that is what students should do. They should question. They should ask. They should fight with the teacher. And most importantly they should experiment. Experiment with new ways of doing things. This is the time of your life. Experiment. Just don’t run to the nearest bar and go drinking, because I told you to experiment new things.”
Laughter. At least they were listening if not comprehending. That acted as a compensation for Mr. X to continue.
“But there are teachers who will never want you to succeed. Because if you outrun them, you should be the teacher and not that ass who taught you. That is the distinction between a good teacher and a true teacher. A true one would always want you to outrun them, because there is nothing more pleasing than a student succeeding.”
“You must understand a teacher faces a hell lot of issues. A very important one of them is what to teach? It is so confusing to answer that. But if your own student outruns you, you at least have the satisfaction that whatever you had, you’ve taught him and that your job is now over. And that you have truly achieved the purpose of a teacher.”
The class smiled.
“So listen to the advice that I give you. But also experiment with new things. Try out alternate methods of doing things. And eventually leave me behind. Outrun me, and make me the happiest teacher in the world. But in this entire process there is one thing you should never forget and that is Humility. Be humble. Always understand that there are people below you, but at some point, you were there too. So give them respect. And that there will always be people above you. You need to learn from them. So respect them too. Never let your talent take possession of you. Never.”
“I think that is enough for today. I want you all to go through the reading list which is also in the brochure. Oh, are there any questions?”
The class was silent. In the last row a boy thought to himself—Kitna bada Chu hain yeh.
The boy next to him thought---Kitna bada double Chu hain yeh.
The boy next to this one raised his hand.
“Yes,” said Mr X identifying the third boy.
“Sir, why did you decide to become a teacher?” he asked.
Mr. X smiled. He replied.
“Simply put, because I love to give.”
The third boy nodded. The girl sitting next to him thought—Kitna Gay hain.
The third boy thought---Kitna amazing hain.
“Any more questions?” asked Mr. X once again.
No one said anything.
“Well it was nice to meet you guys. See you around.”
Mr. X exited.
And the class was now officially confused.
The professor stared silently at the classroom door. Years earlier he had been on the other side of the door waiting for his first college lecture to start. Never did he realise, until now of course, that the feeling would be far weirder and worse than it was then. This was going to be embarrassing, he thought.
He opened the classroom doors and saw a group of nearly 70 students. All of them, all 70 of them, turned their heads into his direction. They placed themselves on their benches and everything was at peace. The professor gulped and walked towards the teachers table.
“Good Morning. I am Mr. X and I am going to teach you Microeconomics for this Semester,” he said.
Everyone in the first row wrote down his name and subject. Mr. X was still freaked out. He continued.
“You will find your syllabus in the brochure that you received at the time of your admission. It is largely the same course that you’ve studied in school, just in greater detail. Are there any questions?”
Not a soul in the classroom said anything. Mr. X’s hands and feet went cold. He feared this only, lack of matter in his opening lecture. But then suddenly something happened.
“In the circles of education, there is something called the Last Lecture. Every professor before his retirement is informed about his Last Lecture. In that final lecture, the teacher sums up his life, what he has learnt and conveys whatever he wishes to tell his students. It is like a dying man’s message. A final message that will alter their thinking or at least so is the aim.”
“But what has been extremely less talked about or perhaps never has been, is The First Lecture. Every teacher has a first class, and no one knows what to say. Everyone just ends up talking about the subject they teach and then to kill time, tell a class of over 50 to introduce themselves. What I think is that, the last lecture should in fact be the first. It is because the earlier you confuse young minds the better it is.”
“I might sound like a fool, but listen carefully. The older you get, the more adjusted your mind is to the world. And that is exactly what some people want—the continuation of status quo. But if you are exposed to various thoughts, to various life experiences and to varied teachings, it is then that you are confused, and it is only now that you make an informed choice. The ideal market is that of perfect competition”
He stopped and took a close look at the class. Some seemed interested, some seemed bored and the first row was still taking notes, as if this was going to be questioned on.
“What I have learnt and what I know of this Subject is what I am going to transfer to you. But I feel the duty of a teacher goes far beyond that. During my education, I have had many teachers. Definitely more than a 100. But there are only a few that I remember today. It is to those few that I feel truly indebted. And that is because they taught me how to live life. They told me about their mistakes, so that I don’t commit the same errors. And I am going to tell you those and my own mistakes, so that life is easier for you.”
Mr. X paused.
“However, there is a flip side to that. I may ask you to abstain in a certain situation, but if your consciousness asks for you to do something else, you trash my idea and go ahead with yours. Because that is what students should do. They should question. They should ask. They should fight with the teacher. And most importantly they should experiment. Experiment with new ways of doing things. This is the time of your life. Experiment. Just don’t run to the nearest bar and go drinking, because I told you to experiment new things.”
Laughter. At least they were listening if not comprehending. That acted as a compensation for Mr. X to continue.
“But there are teachers who will never want you to succeed. Because if you outrun them, you should be the teacher and not that ass who taught you. That is the distinction between a good teacher and a true teacher. A true one would always want you to outrun them, because there is nothing more pleasing than a student succeeding.”
“You must understand a teacher faces a hell lot of issues. A very important one of them is what to teach? It is so confusing to answer that. But if your own student outruns you, you at least have the satisfaction that whatever you had, you’ve taught him and that your job is now over. And that you have truly achieved the purpose of a teacher.”
The class smiled.
“So listen to the advice that I give you. But also experiment with new things. Try out alternate methods of doing things. And eventually leave me behind. Outrun me, and make me the happiest teacher in the world. But in this entire process there is one thing you should never forget and that is Humility. Be humble. Always understand that there are people below you, but at some point, you were there too. So give them respect. And that there will always be people above you. You need to learn from them. So respect them too. Never let your talent take possession of you. Never.”
“I think that is enough for today. I want you all to go through the reading list which is also in the brochure. Oh, are there any questions?”
The class was silent. In the last row a boy thought to himself—Kitna bada Chu hain yeh.
The boy next to him thought---Kitna bada double Chu hain yeh.
The boy next to this one raised his hand.
“Yes,” said Mr X identifying the third boy.
“Sir, why did you decide to become a teacher?” he asked.
Mr. X smiled. He replied.
“Simply put, because I love to give.”
The third boy nodded. The girl sitting next to him thought—Kitna Gay hain.
The third boy thought---Kitna amazing hain.
“Any more questions?” asked Mr. X once again.
No one said anything.
“Well it was nice to meet you guys. See you around.”
Mr. X exited.
And the class was now officially confused.
30 September 2009
Wake me up when September Ends.
Oh September is already over. And today is the third of October. But I am still going to post this on a the 30/09/09 date, else September will have Zero posts; And I wouldn't like that.
This is a draft of what I was planning to post. Will finish it and post it at a later date. Just have a look :
Truth is referred to as a true statement, true being something which is a fact. A fact cannot be reversed or changed. It is final in its nature. It is in its essence what it is. There can be multiple views to a fact, but the fact remains the same. Thus, something which is true, will always be true, the inference however can be varied.
Oratory gives perspective to facts. It gives facts inference and whatever conclusion you want to draw, you can draw from it with Oratory as a tool. Thus if two people have a fact in front of them and they have to convince people of their respective conclusions, they can only do so with the help their speaking abilities.
It can be better understood this way. Suppose there is a shadow. Now the fact in this analogy is that a shadow is created by an object. Now if you’re looking at the shadow how do you identify the object; you simply change the direction in which you are looking. Now since you haven’t ever seen that object before, whatever you see of it then you assume that it is that. Oratory provides that change in direction. Whatever you want someone to see of the object; you can with that change in direction, which in essence is oratory. In other words, oratory is a change in direction which is done to identify the object; the identification of the object being the discretion of the Orator. Now that could either provide you awesome clarity or just confuse you beyond measure.
This is a draft of what I was planning to post. Will finish it and post it at a later date. Just have a look :
Truth is referred to as a true statement, true being something which is a fact. A fact cannot be reversed or changed. It is final in its nature. It is in its essence what it is. There can be multiple views to a fact, but the fact remains the same. Thus, something which is true, will always be true, the inference however can be varied.
Oratory gives perspective to facts. It gives facts inference and whatever conclusion you want to draw, you can draw from it with Oratory as a tool. Thus if two people have a fact in front of them and they have to convince people of their respective conclusions, they can only do so with the help their speaking abilities.
It can be better understood this way. Suppose there is a shadow. Now the fact in this analogy is that a shadow is created by an object. Now if you’re looking at the shadow how do you identify the object; you simply change the direction in which you are looking. Now since you haven’t ever seen that object before, whatever you see of it then you assume that it is that. Oratory provides that change in direction. Whatever you want someone to see of the object; you can with that change in direction, which in essence is oratory. In other words, oratory is a change in direction which is done to identify the object; the identification of the object being the discretion of the Orator. Now that could either provide you awesome clarity or just confuse you beyond measure.
29 July 2009
350 !
I helped make this--->
As for REAL BLOG POSTS, let's say I am recovering and will write something NICE soon.
Till then think about the following question:
If you had a dog, what would you name it? ( This is just RANDOM )
Take Care, I'll BRB soon.
:)
As for REAL BLOG POSTS, let's say I am recovering and will write something NICE soon.
Till then think about the following question:
If you had a dog, what would you name it? ( This is just RANDOM )
Take Care, I'll BRB soon.
:)
7 June 2009
And he did it.
He did not do it against Nadal, but he did it anyways.
Roland Garros Finals:
Roger Federer def Robin Soderling
6-1 , 7-6 , 6-4
Roger Federer def Robin Soderling
6-1 , 7-6 , 6-4
I am too small to say congratulations to the greatest player of our times, but I am so infinitely happy. Roger got his 14 Grand Slams, also won his First French open, and also became the 6th Tennis player in the world to win all four Grand Slams. Never has any sports personality been so close to my heart. I guess with today, on the 7th of June, Federer made it to my "Get their Poster" list.
Earlier this year at the Australian Open, Fedy lost and he cried. The wretched five hour long match against Nadal is one I'll never forget. It crushed me too. To see Roger's helplessness and exhaustion to win felt like slow poison, one that kills all faith and effort. His every shot expressed his desperation to win.
The French Finale was a total contrast to it's ugly cousin. Every spectator, there at The Roland Garros or anywhere in the world, wanted Federer to win. All of us were with him in his battle to be the best ever, and I guess that helped somehow. Today, was a revolutionary match and Soderling must be hugely proud to be part of it.
Continuing that, Robin showed great courage and enthusiasm. He played his best this French season. He defeated World Number 1 and was up against World number 2 and played with utmost spirit of sportsmanship. The second set he made Roger feel that this championship wasn't so easy to get. But when the championship point came, I believe Robin let it go and I guess anyone would have. Robin couldn't have had the strength to take this away from Federer, especially when Federer was playing his best.
The hero of the entire pulsating Final was surely Roger, but in Robin I see the determination and humility to be what Roger is today.
Andre Aggasi presented the trophy to Roger Federer---The meeting of the legends. Roger is soon going to be a Dad, and if its a boy, I have a gut feeling he'll name him Andre. If its a girl, well Andreyana, could be a variant. :)
The French Open 2009, was magical. It was like a happily ever after. I guess I am going to smile all through next week, or whenever I read this, because this will transport back to today when the champion conquered his dream.
Closer home, Kudos to Leander Paes, for getting his Men's Doubles. It always feels nice when your nation wins, but more so when your hero does. :)
As inevitably, One Tree Hill comes in every post of mine, the finale line of Season6 said-----
And believe that dreams come true everyday.....Because they do.
Roger's dream stands fulfilled. Maybe yours will too. Maybe everyone of our dreams will come true. Just Dream and believe. Thank You Roger, for all the happiness you've given us. Thank You^1/0.
Dedication : Roger and Robin.
Song : No song can measure the happiness that I experienced at the moment of the Championship Point. Yet, the Acoustic version of Lovers In Japan, by Coldplay. :)
16 May 2009
Oh I forgot.
Yes I know, I should be writing a story / work of fiction, but let's just say someone else is doing a better job. Ok , this week has been awesomely nice....Here's an account ( Not in chronological order, but in order of thoughts)
Coldplay Album. There is no artist in the world that I love more than you guys. Coldplay launched a new album/collection of songs on 15th May, which was free to download for all it's fans. And the songs are all live concert recordings, so if you listen to 'em on full volume, the kind of feeling you get, oh my good--it's heaven. It's like you are there cheering and the fact that you are a part of the whole thing makes it so orgasmic. God I love them. And they also made a Recession busting and Fan thanking move by deciding to give each one of the audience at their concerts a free CD of these songs. Kya yaar, inse better koi hoo sakta hain. Oh...The album is called Left right left right left. Download it from here---- http://lrlrl.coldplay.com/leftright.html And if you REALLY wish to get the feel of it. Listen to Viva La Vida full volume. I couldn't feel my heart after the first time. Below: Album cover
KT : Today, I went to The Attic, to hear out Mr. Kishore Thukral on his true calling, The Spiti Valley. The pictures were so beautiful and it seemed like he knew everything. Each stone, each lake and each feeling of Spiti was in his heart. How I know KT is different, but the fact that I heard out an author so intelligent, so wise and so inspiring for the third time, it's fantastic. But there is a more important thing that I learnt. I won't be writing the book most of you came to know about. Listening to KT made me realise, that there is so much I can explore, look, feel and be, I don't want a book right now. I have the feelings fresh in me, but I don't want to translate them. I want to read Shaky Dude, I want to Travel, I want St. Stephen's. Pata nahi. :|
Oh, for all that it's worth, I saw the Devil today, and yes I do HATE her. Below: Spiti
.jpg)
Red shorts: My Mom did not like them, which means that her generation doesn't like them, which implies that I did the right "fashion" thing. ^_^ They are in, and I like them. Deal with it. Below: A glimpse for those who wouldn't ever see me wearing 'em.
Connaught Place : God. I had gone to meet ONE of my friends and I ended up meeting the entire clan. First I met Vasudha, then Garima, then Abhinav and Anu. I also saw Rajesh Mishra, Director IMS. I mean Ek teer aur itne saare nishaane. LOL. :) . I even showed Vasudha the terrace of one of CP's buildings, though it was less appreciated. Below: CP. Duh.
There might have been much happier and better things, but i just don't remember 'em. Next week Gautam is going to come, which is nice. My result is going to come, which could be nice. And I have to study, which is definitely not nice.
Oh I forgot.
Dedication : To KT.
Song : Viva La Vida by Coldplay. LRLRL Version. :)
Coldplay Album. There is no artist in the world that I love more than you guys. Coldplay launched a new album/collection of songs on 15th May, which was free to download for all it's fans. And the songs are all live concert recordings, so if you listen to 'em on full volume, the kind of feeling you get, oh my good--it's heaven. It's like you are there cheering and the fact that you are a part of the whole thing makes it so orgasmic. God I love them. And they also made a Recession busting and Fan thanking move by deciding to give each one of the audience at their concerts a free CD of these songs. Kya yaar, inse better koi hoo sakta hain. Oh...The album is called Left right left right left. Download it from here---- http://lrlrl.coldplay.com/leftright.html And if you REALLY wish to get the feel of it. Listen to Viva La Vida full volume. I couldn't feel my heart after the first time. Below: Album cover
KT : Today, I went to The Attic, to hear out Mr. Kishore Thukral on his true calling, The Spiti Valley. The pictures were so beautiful and it seemed like he knew everything. Each stone, each lake and each feeling of Spiti was in his heart. How I know KT is different, but the fact that I heard out an author so intelligent, so wise and so inspiring for the third time, it's fantastic. But there is a more important thing that I learnt. I won't be writing the book most of you came to know about. Listening to KT made me realise, that there is so much I can explore, look, feel and be, I don't want a book right now. I have the feelings fresh in me, but I don't want to translate them. I want to read Shaky Dude, I want to Travel, I want St. Stephen's. Pata nahi. :|
Oh, for all that it's worth, I saw the Devil today, and yes I do HATE her. Below: Spiti
.jpg)
Red shorts: My Mom did not like them, which means that her generation doesn't like them, which implies that I did the right "fashion" thing. ^_^ They are in, and I like them. Deal with it. Below: A glimpse for those who wouldn't ever see me wearing 'em.
Connaught Place : God. I had gone to meet ONE of my friends and I ended up meeting the entire clan. First I met Vasudha, then Garima, then Abhinav and Anu. I also saw Rajesh Mishra, Director IMS. I mean Ek teer aur itne saare nishaane. LOL. :) . I even showed Vasudha the terrace of one of CP's buildings, though it was less appreciated. Below: CP. Duh.
There might have been much happier and better things, but i just don't remember 'em. Next week Gautam is going to come, which is nice. My result is going to come, which could be nice. And I have to study, which is definitely not nice.
Oh I forgot.
Dedication : To KT.
Song : Viva La Vida by Coldplay. LRLRL Version. :)
9 May 2009
Changes and Thank You-s
Today is an important day in the history of this Blog. We have changed the title, the template, the widgets and all the change is definitely for the BETTER. I hope you like it. My writing might also change and you might notice a tinge of young-ness.
This wouldn't have been possible without :
1. Blogger templates: Thank you for the jeans.
2. Facebook: For helping me rest for a while.
3. Pari: For having seen it for the first time.
4. Arsheen: For having loved it so much.
5. Gautam: For his idea to change my picture.
6. Ahana: For finally seeing it.
7. Aakriti: For having loved the template and promised not to follow.
8. Vasudha: For being a keen reader throughout.
9. SS and other readers: For always telling me when the post was weird or nice.
10. Digveer: For have planted the idea in the first place.
11. Aditi: For have improved my writing.
12. Coldplay: For making awesome songs which I listen to when I write. Sorry your widget had to go.
13. (My best Number) EK: For making me realize that sometimes you have to change or stay away because other people are too dumb to do the same.
Thanks Everyone. Thanks. I hope you like it.
Oh since I forgot earlier, One Tree Hill. You changed everything. Thanks.
This wouldn't have been possible without :
1. Blogger templates: Thank you for the jeans.
2. Facebook: For helping me rest for a while.
3. Pari: For having seen it for the first time.
4. Arsheen: For having loved it so much.
5. Gautam: For his idea to change my picture.
6. Ahana: For finally seeing it.
7. Aakriti: For having loved the template and promised not to follow.
8. Vasudha: For being a keen reader throughout.
9. SS and other readers: For always telling me when the post was weird or nice.
10. Digveer: For have planted the idea in the first place.
11. Aditi: For have improved my writing.
12. Coldplay: For making awesome songs which I listen to when I write. Sorry your widget had to go.
13. (My best Number) EK: For making me realize that sometimes you have to change or stay away because other people are too dumb to do the same.
Thanks Everyone. Thanks. I hope you like it.
Oh since I forgot earlier, One Tree Hill. You changed everything. Thanks.
5 May 2009
A Dummies Guide to Social Conventions
Everyone needs a guide. Everyone needs help to deal with life. Everyone faces some sick sorry social situation sometime or the other. One of my friends asked me to list down some social norms long time ago, but lethargic me is doing it now. Better late than never ;)
Dedication: To those who always screw up and end up thinking, "I'm such a bitch!"
Song: Help Is Just Around The Corner by Coldplay.
1. Most of us ask for advice from people we know, some of us just use the Internet. When asking for advice, quietly listen to the speaker. It's never nice to ask for advice and then start arguing with adviser that they are wrong. एक तोह वो तुम परएहसान कर रहा हैं, ऊपर से तुम उसे लड़ने लगजाओ| वाह बही वाह !
2. Never ever waste your energies on someone who you know is not ready to listen. You can shout, you can yell but some people think they are king of the world and will NOT listen, not now, not ever. I know it pisses you off especially when they're wrong, but I guess people are people.
3. Some people talk a LOT especially when you have called. They will talk, talk and keep on talking come what may, sometimes even when they have called. Since you can't tape / zip their mouth, the best way is, you start speaking about stuff that you know. For Example: When Ahana starts talking about science stuff I don't understand or when I start sermon-ing her, I'm sure both of us feel like slamming the phone, though she can't-She has a cordless. Not that we talk a lot, just that why watch a foreign film with no subtitles.
4. If some one does something for you, Thank them a million times. Even if they haven't crossed a river or jumped from the Empire State Building, have a heart and give them a chocolate. It's always feels good to make someone smile and have your way too.
5. People are weird. A bunch of 'em can piss you off just like that. I mean for no immediate fault of theirs, you just hate them from the corner of your heart and a slightest mistake of theirs would make your mouth utter beautiful words like slut, son of bitch, the F*** word. etc etc. It's best that you STAY AWAY from them. STAY AWAY.
6. Continuing Point 5, Sometimes we like people. We think that no matter what the odds are, they might have some brain and they would be not as the world pictures them to be. Truth is--OUR hopes are wrong. Men are jerks and women are slow. So if you are hurt, then the best way is to STAY AWAY from these people too.
7. How to STAY AWAY:
* De-friend them on facebook, orkut and other places where you waste time. Nothing more pleasing. TRUST ME.
* Delete them from your phone book.
* Inspired from Jab We Met--Call them, Abuse Them.
* Tell your friends about your friend and insist that they should always insult / make fun of your special someone always when you are around.
* Listen to Hope it gives you hell by The All American Rejects.
* A little filmy, but if you can punch them in the face.
8. There are moments when you can't say anything or your brain is too slow to process an answer. In such cases just Nod. At least the other person gets some assurance. Like some one said, better keep quiet and be a fool, than open your mouth and confirm the doubt.
9. Sometimes there is a stalemate like situation in our lives. Neither of the two people would accept their mistake. In that case, Just say sorry and finish the crappy bottleneck in your life. Saying it won't kill you. It might hurt your ego, but trust me neither is anyone measuring your ego on a daily basis nor is there a record of the number of times you have said Sorry. So just say it and end It.
10. Everyone has problems. Everyone has miseries. Don't talk about them and make the world an even more remorse place. Just laugh and if you can't, buy a joke book. And yeah, if you have issues with this blogger / blog, that we are too casual about life, then--I don't care.
11. MOST IMPORTANT: Always listen to the Blogger who has poor decision making powers, who is too scared to start his magnum opus, who has awesome music taste, who won't ever read Twilight and yes, of course, who satisfies ALL of those conditions. If there exists more than one such person.....then choose the one who you know. ( DUH---ME)
Like it or not, This is True. All true.
Dedication: To those who always screw up and end up thinking, "I'm such a bitch!"
Song: Help Is Just Around The Corner by Coldplay.
1. Most of us ask for advice from people we know, some of us just use the Internet. When asking for advice, quietly listen to the speaker. It's never nice to ask for advice and then start arguing with adviser that they are wrong. एक तोह वो तुम परएहसान कर रहा हैं, ऊपर से तुम उसे लड़ने लगजाओ| वाह बही वाह !
2. Never ever waste your energies on someone who you know is not ready to listen. You can shout, you can yell but some people think they are king of the world and will NOT listen, not now, not ever. I know it pisses you off especially when they're wrong, but I guess people are people.
3. Some people talk a LOT especially when you have called. They will talk, talk and keep on talking come what may, sometimes even when they have called. Since you can't tape / zip their mouth, the best way is, you start speaking about stuff that you know. For Example: When Ahana starts talking about science stuff I don't understand or when I start sermon-ing her, I'm sure both of us feel like slamming the phone, though she can't-She has a cordless. Not that we talk a lot, just that why watch a foreign film with no subtitles.
4. If some one does something for you, Thank them a million times. Even if they haven't crossed a river or jumped from the Empire State Building, have a heart and give them a chocolate. It's always feels good to make someone smile and have your way too.
5. People are weird. A bunch of 'em can piss you off just like that. I mean for no immediate fault of theirs, you just hate them from the corner of your heart and a slightest mistake of theirs would make your mouth utter beautiful words like slut, son of bitch, the F*** word. etc etc. It's best that you STAY AWAY from them. STAY AWAY.
6. Continuing Point 5, Sometimes we like people. We think that no matter what the odds are, they might have some brain and they would be not as the world pictures them to be. Truth is--OUR hopes are wrong. Men are jerks and women are slow. So if you are hurt, then the best way is to STAY AWAY from these people too.
7. How to STAY AWAY:
* De-friend them on facebook, orkut and other places where you waste time. Nothing more pleasing. TRUST ME.
* Delete them from your phone book.
* Inspired from Jab We Met--Call them, Abuse Them.
* Tell your friends about your friend and insist that they should always insult / make fun of your special someone always when you are around.
* Listen to Hope it gives you hell by The All American Rejects.
* A little filmy, but if you can punch them in the face.
8. There are moments when you can't say anything or your brain is too slow to process an answer. In such cases just Nod. At least the other person gets some assurance. Like some one said, better keep quiet and be a fool, than open your mouth and confirm the doubt.
9. Sometimes there is a stalemate like situation in our lives. Neither of the two people would accept their mistake. In that case, Just say sorry and finish the crappy bottleneck in your life. Saying it won't kill you. It might hurt your ego, but trust me neither is anyone measuring your ego on a daily basis nor is there a record of the number of times you have said Sorry. So just say it and end It.
10. Everyone has problems. Everyone has miseries. Don't talk about them and make the world an even more remorse place. Just laugh and if you can't, buy a joke book. And yeah, if you have issues with this blogger / blog, that we are too casual about life, then--I don't care.
11. MOST IMPORTANT: Always listen to the Blogger who has poor decision making powers, who is too scared to start his magnum opus, who has awesome music taste, who won't ever read Twilight and yes, of course, who satisfies ALL of those conditions. If there exists more than one such person.....then choose the one who you know. ( DUH---ME)
Like it or not, This is True. All true.
28 April 2009
Conspiracy Theory
Imagine for a second if everything started to make sense. If there were answers to all your questions. If everything in this Universe was perfectly placed and every story had a reason to it, a planned idea for execution. Ok, this beginning to sound like the back cover of a book, so I'll get straight to the point. Here is a fun filled list (hopefully) on a bunch of stuff which might have secret conspiracies running behind them. I mean you just never know.
Dedication : To my Brooke Davis. I hope you have as crazy a mind as mine.
Song: Since this is a CRAZY post, here's a CRAZY song. Smelly Cat by Phoebe Buffay. LOL
1. Delhi Jal Board: If you're driving on the Delhi roads then you are bound to bump into huge banners that block the road reading Delhi Jal Board--Work In Progress. I mean spare some roads. What I've heard is that they're putting in some new pipes and taking out the old ones, but I truly believe that they've found the treasure map to the Pandva Treasury and all the digging is to strike gold. They were corrupt, but now they are treasure hunters.
2. Facebook: Internal Conspiracy between Ahana and me.
3. Recession: War and Peace are old troubles. I mean how much more blood, hunger and all the ugly stuff. Everyone's seen it. Wars are a thing of the past. Economic Harassment is the new thing. No Blood, lesser deaths and even more trouble for economists and scholars. Just a bunch of pink slips, salary cuts and lesser enjoyment. I also feel that the US is doing it purposely to reaffirm it's position as number one. Uncle Sam gets hurt, the world cries.
4. The Bollywood Strike: For those who don't know, apparently no more Bollywood movies will release on multiplexes till the time the producers and the multiplex owners call it truce. The truth really is, Bollywood is out of ideas to make any new films and with increasing copyright issues, no Holly remakes. Multiplexes on the other hand think they earn too less from their overpriced food. Either way, Pirated DVD marketing is going smooth sailing as always.
5. Destiny, Love and God: You can't always blame yourself for the misery in your life. I mean why do you think these ideas were created in the first places. It's written and all that. Oh by the way, I don't question the belief of God. I worship Krishna. But sometimes it's always their fault.
6. Shoe Throwing: It apparently is in fashion. Started off with Bush, it has become quite a rage in India. I mean every second day some poor politician gets a Rebook or Nike. I think they're paid to throw, logically why else would some one care. It's a publicity stunt. The Politicians are pulling a Rakhi Sawant.
7. Harry Potter: Rowling is a witch. She tried to spill the beans and got banished from the Magic World. Now she is taking revenge by publishing all these books. She is a powerful one, so no memory charms work on her. Sad, no one understood her but me.
That's enough I think. My brain can't think any more answers.
Dedication : To my Brooke Davis. I hope you have as crazy a mind as mine.
Song: Since this is a CRAZY post, here's a CRAZY song. Smelly Cat by Phoebe Buffay. LOL
1. Delhi Jal Board: If you're driving on the Delhi roads then you are bound to bump into huge banners that block the road reading Delhi Jal Board--Work In Progress. I mean spare some roads. What I've heard is that they're putting in some new pipes and taking out the old ones, but I truly believe that they've found the treasure map to the Pandva Treasury and all the digging is to strike gold. They were corrupt, but now they are treasure hunters.
2. Facebook: Internal Conspiracy between Ahana and me.
3. Recession: War and Peace are old troubles. I mean how much more blood, hunger and all the ugly stuff. Everyone's seen it. Wars are a thing of the past. Economic Harassment is the new thing. No Blood, lesser deaths and even more trouble for economists and scholars. Just a bunch of pink slips, salary cuts and lesser enjoyment. I also feel that the US is doing it purposely to reaffirm it's position as number one. Uncle Sam gets hurt, the world cries.
4. The Bollywood Strike: For those who don't know, apparently no more Bollywood movies will release on multiplexes till the time the producers and the multiplex owners call it truce. The truth really is, Bollywood is out of ideas to make any new films and with increasing copyright issues, no Holly remakes. Multiplexes on the other hand think they earn too less from their overpriced food. Either way, Pirated DVD marketing is going smooth sailing as always.
5. Destiny, Love and God: You can't always blame yourself for the misery in your life. I mean why do you think these ideas were created in the first places. It's written and all that. Oh by the way, I don't question the belief of God. I worship Krishna. But sometimes it's always their fault.
6. Shoe Throwing: It apparently is in fashion. Started off with Bush, it has become quite a rage in India. I mean every second day some poor politician gets a Rebook or Nike. I think they're paid to throw, logically why else would some one care. It's a publicity stunt. The Politicians are pulling a Rakhi Sawant.
7. Harry Potter: Rowling is a witch. She tried to spill the beans and got banished from the Magic World. Now she is taking revenge by publishing all these books. She is a powerful one, so no memory charms work on her. Sad, no one understood her but me.
That's enough I think. My brain can't think any more answers.
23 April 2009
There is a Tide in the Affairs of Men.
To William Shakespeare. Happy Birthday. I don't know if it's today or it's three days later but all I know is that this blog is named after you and this post is dedicated to you; if not on your birthday, then on your death anniversary. Born and died on the same day, Cool eh? So either way I am right and I love this quote of yours. So here I am explaining your wonderful lines to the world and dedicating them to you. To Shakes.
Ok. These lines are from the play Julius Caesar. Brutus says the lines before the war, as he goes on to talk about Opportunity and Chance. The explaination might just get repetitive and on your nerves.
The Tide in the first line refers to the Chance we receive in our lives, in our affairs of love, work, family and in all that we do. Like the ships at the port wait for the tide to be right so that they can continue their adventures of the boundless sea; similarly there await many tides in our lives which promise us much more than what we can imagine or dream of.
And if traveled during the right tide, we gain the immense fortune of learning so much; grabbing the right opportunity also gives us the possibility of earning the fortune of experience. We don't know what these many possibilities hold for us, but it is only after we try them that we know. Opportunity indeed only comes once.
The only difference between tide and opportunity probably is that, tide comes again and again but opportunity might never ever return. Thus, if omitted ever in life, one is bound to suffer. To miss a target is ok, but to never have explored the possibility of archery, especially if it was on your journey, is nothing but a fool's act. You might always wonder where that tide might have taken us.
Shaky goes on to say that our lives are full of such opportunities that can change us forever. Whether it's a chance to say sorry or a moment of realisation or anything else. Don't think too much. The weather is good, the tide is good, just start your voyage. Like the ships take the current when it's good for 'em, so must we use the varied paths in our lives.
What we plan and what we want is only a manifestation of our mind. That can only be brought to reality when we work towards it and we find the right chances on our way. I don't know about destiny or luck or if you really really want something everything else will fall in place; but if you have something in your way that you think you really want, then grab it for that can only truly fulfill thy venture. And if we lose it, then we lose it forever.
On a lighter note...
There is a tide in the affairs of men. Sometime back came my tide and I started to blog. Then the Internship with Viewspaper. Then a few followers, though I am often tempted to post on Facebook for more readership. And a lot more came....Today I am happy with my blog, with whatever it is. Thanks to the tide that came my way. To get your tide just don't call God but look around. Our website is www.help-my-brain-that-cant-find-opportunities.com. Order now! Grab now! Toll Free!
Thanks Shakespeare. Thanks Readers. Thanks.
There is a tide in the affairs of men.
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows and in miseries.
On such a full sea are we now afloat,
And we must take the current when it serves,
Or lose our ventures.
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows and in miseries.
On such a full sea are we now afloat,
And we must take the current when it serves,
Or lose our ventures.
Ok. These lines are from the play Julius Caesar. Brutus says the lines before the war, as he goes on to talk about Opportunity and Chance. The explaination might just get repetitive and on your nerves.
The Tide in the first line refers to the Chance we receive in our lives, in our affairs of love, work, family and in all that we do. Like the ships at the port wait for the tide to be right so that they can continue their adventures of the boundless sea; similarly there await many tides in our lives which promise us much more than what we can imagine or dream of.
And if traveled during the right tide, we gain the immense fortune of learning so much; grabbing the right opportunity also gives us the possibility of earning the fortune of experience. We don't know what these many possibilities hold for us, but it is only after we try them that we know. Opportunity indeed only comes once.
The only difference between tide and opportunity probably is that, tide comes again and again but opportunity might never ever return. Thus, if omitted ever in life, one is bound to suffer. To miss a target is ok, but to never have explored the possibility of archery, especially if it was on your journey, is nothing but a fool's act. You might always wonder where that tide might have taken us.
Shaky goes on to say that our lives are full of such opportunities that can change us forever. Whether it's a chance to say sorry or a moment of realisation or anything else. Don't think too much. The weather is good, the tide is good, just start your voyage. Like the ships take the current when it's good for 'em, so must we use the varied paths in our lives.
What we plan and what we want is only a manifestation of our mind. That can only be brought to reality when we work towards it and we find the right chances on our way. I don't know about destiny or luck or if you really really want something everything else will fall in place; but if you have something in your way that you think you really want, then grab it for that can only truly fulfill thy venture. And if we lose it, then we lose it forever.
On a lighter note...
There is a tide in the affairs of men. Sometime back came my tide and I started to blog. Then the Internship with Viewspaper. Then a few followers, though I am often tempted to post on Facebook for more readership. And a lot more came....Today I am happy with my blog, with whatever it is. Thanks to the tide that came my way. To get your tide just don't call God but look around. Our website is www.help-my-brain-that-cant-find-opportunities.com. Order now! Grab now! Toll Free!
Thanks Shakespeare. Thanks Readers. Thanks.
17 April 2009
These Three Words (3)
Ok. This is the third and final part of the poem. The word here is Rejection. The post is dedicated to the never say die spirit of people. The song for the post would be Lost by Coldplay and The Winner takes it all by ABBA. I couldn't reject either of the two. :)
In any race--big or small,
The winner takes it all;[1]
And such is the misery of any contest,
There are many silvers but only One Best.
When you lose, you die,
When you win, you fly;
Rejection is said to help improve,
But it cuts you out and makes you aloof.
To fall and to get up again,
To miss the title and continue to train,
Are attributes of great learners and warriors,
But I am sorry, we are only mortals.
The heart is a strange thing,
Breaks down, cries and never deals with failing;
Pushes you into the corner—sad and remorse,
The pain of failure never coming to a close.
The answers of departure and loss,
Is that which we always look for;
The world doesn’t have it and neither your friends,
What is done can never be put to mend.
And finally the election of king came to a close,
And to the winner, we all did toast;
But for the last time, look into yourselves,
Did you ever go through this, because if not, then we are all strange elves.
[1] Song by Abba The winner takes it all
These Three Words (3)
In any race--big or small,
The winner takes it all;[1]
And such is the misery of any contest,
There are many silvers but only One Best.
When you lose, you die,
When you win, you fly;
Rejection is said to help improve,
But it cuts you out and makes you aloof.
To fall and to get up again,
To miss the title and continue to train,
Are attributes of great learners and warriors,
But I am sorry, we are only mortals.
The heart is a strange thing,
Breaks down, cries and never deals with failing;
Pushes you into the corner—sad and remorse,
The pain of failure never coming to a close.
The answers of departure and loss,
Is that which we always look for;
The world doesn’t have it and neither your friends,
What is done can never be put to mend.
And finally the election of king came to a close,
And to the winner, we all did toast;
But for the last time, look into yourselves,
Did you ever go through this, because if not, then we are all strange elves.
[1] Song by Abba The winner takes it all
8 April 2009
These Three Words ( 2 )
Ok. This is one is Part 2. The following part is dedicated to all who can put up brave face. The song for the part would be, Be yourself by AudioSlave. The last one was better.
Such was the rush to be king,
That all of them forgot their loose flings;
And immersed themselves in this muck,
Saying proudly, “I am what you need, the others suck.”
Pretense, Hidden motives and expressions,
Were being deciphered to reveal any deception;
But everyone was equally smart in this game,
For none let out their secret, even till their grave.
Known Faces, Likable masks and Ignored lies,
Pre-Election arrangements and ties,
They did everything to deceive,
And win the vote by hook or by fees.
But if the God among men wasn’t at their bay,
There was nothing to worry or fray;
For the look of defeat is so famous,
And the power of opposition is strong, the hand or the lotus.
The masses had expressions of calmness and dumbness,
But underneath bubbled a strategy fungus;
To vote for whom or to let this one pass,
Their thoughts and desires certainly not moving en masse.
And such is the power of Pretense,
Hides your cruel intentions, leaves scope for speculation and creates menace;
In our country so close?
What is so different, my folks?
Such was the rush to be king,
That all of them forgot their loose flings;
And immersed themselves in this muck,
Saying proudly, “I am what you need, the others suck.”
Pretense, Hidden motives and expressions,
Were being deciphered to reveal any deception;
But everyone was equally smart in this game,
For none let out their secret, even till their grave.
Known Faces, Likable masks and Ignored lies,
Pre-Election arrangements and ties,
They did everything to deceive,
And win the vote by hook or by fees.
But if the God among men wasn’t at their bay,
There was nothing to worry or fray;
For the look of defeat is so famous,
And the power of opposition is strong, the hand or the lotus.
The masses had expressions of calmness and dumbness,
But underneath bubbled a strategy fungus;
To vote for whom or to let this one pass,
Their thoughts and desires certainly not moving en masse.
And such is the power of Pretense,
Hides your cruel intentions, leaves scope for speculation and creates menace;
In our country so close?
What is so different, my folks?
31 March 2009
These Three Words ( I )
The following is a three part poem, each having a distinct word attached to it which you'll find very easily.
The poem is dedicated to the one who gave me inspiration for it. The song for the post would be Rest in Pieces by Saliva.
The poem is dedicated to the one who gave me inspiration for it. The song for the post would be Rest in Pieces by Saliva.
These Three Words ( I )
In a land far far away,
Lived a family, very rich but not gay;
For there was a fight to be the next king,
And by democracy it was to be one amongst the kin.
Election fever was spread throughout the state,
And all siblings campaigned to alter their fate;
All the candidates looked very handsome in their coats.
And this confused the people about their vote,
Perception, Intuition, Suspicion and Sensing,
Were in the minds of one and all;
Of weird types, forms, and very different meanings,
To know the future, is indeed a great feeling.
The people, so wise and aware,
Predicted their winner and enjoyed the political affair;
The gambler, the bookies, so greedy and hungry,
Betted blindly on their choice, hoping to earn more than a penny.
The candidates, crude and desperate for throne seating,
Formulated their plans for winning and later governing;
The police, Oh! So vigilant and careful,
Had their own threat perceptions on the lives of these mortals.
And such is the power of assumption,
Solves Accounts, Creates Gossip and Breaks Relations;
In our land so close and near,
What is so different, my dear?
Lived a family, very rich but not gay;
For there was a fight to be the next king,
And by democracy it was to be one amongst the kin.
Election fever was spread throughout the state,
And all siblings campaigned to alter their fate;
All the candidates looked very handsome in their coats.
And this confused the people about their vote,
Perception, Intuition, Suspicion and Sensing,
Were in the minds of one and all;
Of weird types, forms, and very different meanings,
To know the future, is indeed a great feeling.
The people, so wise and aware,
Predicted their winner and enjoyed the political affair;
The gambler, the bookies, so greedy and hungry,
Betted blindly on their choice, hoping to earn more than a penny.
The candidates, crude and desperate for throne seating,
Formulated their plans for winning and later governing;
The police, Oh! So vigilant and careful,
Had their own threat perceptions on the lives of these mortals.
And such is the power of assumption,
Solves Accounts, Creates Gossip and Breaks Relations;
In our land so close and near,
What is so different, my dear?
24 March 2009
Yet Another one of Rohan Ki Kahaniya....
Marginal Propensity to Consume is the slope of the Consumption Function. Differentiate it and you will get what you want. And the Consumption curve is a straight line. Hence the slope is same at all points. MPC is constant. The Multiplier’s proof lies in the sum of infinite terms of a Geometric Progression. The 45 degree line is significant in equilibrium determination. It all indeed connects. All of it has meaning. All of it has sense. There is Logic. It’s beautiful. It’s orgasmic.
Economics was always my favourite. Finding the best way out is what I’ll define it as. Closely intervened with Mathematics, Sociology, Consumer and Producer Psychology, Geography and all of that. Closely intervened with our lives, our money, our country and our identities. I love it. I love it beyond measure.
But parts of Economics make me sick. One of them is Money and Banking. And in my endevour to learn the many types of deposits and the evolution of money and the drawbacks of barter system, I did something great. Something I am proud of. I fell asleep.
And it was then that the following questions came to my mind, which I try and answer myself. This is not conversations with God. This is not Me against Me. This is just the result of economic stress. And sometimes stress produces something beautiful. And maybe this is beautiful. Just to make this un-weird, there is a setup. A different environment. Here Goes:
The following piece is dedicated to everyone who is trying to make sense out of their lives. The song for the post would be Life in Technicolor II by Coldplay.
Once upon a time there was a good boy called Chester. He was in a weird place and this story is about him.
“God, it’s a dark alley,” said Chester to himself.
He walked on. There were no holes, so he didn’t fall into a pit or something. He didn’t bump into a wall or someone else. It was a dark, straight, flat and empty alley. After a while Chester realized that this alley might never end. This scared him.
And then out of the blue, more like black, a bulb hung in front of him. Due to the new found light, Chester saw the writing on the wall. He instantly recognized it.
“As above, so below; As within, so without.”
“The Emerald Tablet. I read it in the Alchemist,” he said that to himself.
And then almost magically, the wall spilt open. Seeing the new wonder, Chester entered. Chester started to look around. He didn’t find anything great to look at. However inside there was a piano. He always wanted to play the piano. It looked so classy, so wonderful, so English and oh so hot.
And then almost suddenly the piano began to play. Chester recognized the music instantly. Death will never conquer by Coldplay. entered.
He turned around and was shocked to death. There it was Chris Martin, the Coldplay’s lead singer playing the piano.
“Oh My God. It’s you!” he almost yelled.
“Shshshsh…” hushed Chris and continued playing.
Coldplay was his favourite band. They made such beautiful music. Chris finished playing. He then looked up at Chester.
“So dude, how’re you?” he asked.
“I am good. Where are we?”
“Doesn’t matter. I am here because you have answers to find.”
“And you will help me?”
“Yes.”
“How freaking cool is that.”
Chris smiled.
“So what has been bothering you so much?” he asked Chester.
“Fear. Fear of all sorts. Fear of losing. Fear of driving. Fear of not being what I want to be,” Chester explained.
“All you have to fear is fear itself,” replied Chris.
“What are you William Douglas?” mocked Chester.
“Not really. But fear helps you grow. It helps you. I feared many things. I still do. I fear I might give you wrong advice. And it is in fear that you are extra cautious and hence you do your best. Simple logic.”
“But fear makes me scared. Scared that I will mess it all up. A sick feeling that makes me give up. Fear kills my spirit of trying, my faith in the world,” explained Chester.
“Don’t worry so much. You’re young, commit your mistakes.”
“What if I lose? Failure isn’t all that of a great feeling,” moaned Chester.
“Just because I am loosing, doesn’t mean I am lost. Doesn’t mean I’ll stop, “sang Chris.
“Now the answers to my questions lie in your songs. I like Lost+ more than Lost, you know. Can I call you Chris?”
“Sure you can. There are answers everywhere. All you need to do is look.”
“That makes you sound Gay, you know.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. You’re still not clean in the head.”
“Yes, Mind reader. I am very confused. I mean why trouble troubles me always. Why ME? Why not you?”
“Trouble will come. Trouble will go. But you’ll go on forever,” said Marty almost laughing.
“What? That’s a direct lift from a poem. God. I thought this was going to be cool. Why can’t we run away from everything? Just escape.”
“Kill yourself. Hide yourself. No one stops you. No one will mourn you for forever.”
“So Chris Martin, Coldplay member is officially an advocate of Suicide.”
“No. I believe that if there is an easy and legal way of doing something you do it that way. Suicide I think is illegal. All I mean is, if there is something that causes you pain, misery, unhappiness, then cut it off. It maybe your dream, your hope, your friend or your mind. Just cut it off. End it. Finish it. There is nothing that can cause you trouble. No one can make you feel inferior without your consent. That’s what Eleanor said.”
“The Sermon-ator does make sense.”
“Listen buddy. Life is crap. It hurts. Everybody hurts. We are nothing but another brick in the wall of the world. But some bricks have the establishment on them. Be that one. You can and you will. Just don’t fear.”
“When will I die?” asked Chester.
“Take a Facebook quiz. Go to Death Clock. I don’t know. I am not Yamraj[1]. Just before you die, don’t cultivate regrets. Whatever you did in your life, were a product of your decisions and your actions. Be proud of it.”
“I am impressed, you know Hindu Deities. Regret. It kills. Do you really think that what we want to do, we ought to do?”
“I think that is the only thing you should do. As I said before, as long as it’s easy and legal.”
“Right. I really love your music. Thanks for it.”
“Thanks for listening to it.”
“Do you pity me?”
“I pity those who don’t live to the fullest.”
“Is this a dream? You sound Dumbeldore-ish.”
“That, that is, is.”
“Shakespeare, finally. I love him too.”
Chris smiled. “Anything else Chester?”
“Sing a song for me?”
“Not now. Buy a CD. Ares eats my money,” joked Chris.
“Ok. Will do,” smiled Chester.
“So I hope I never meet you again?” asked Chris.
“I hope I do. My best friend is such an ass. Good for nothing. Keeps on blabbering something like ‘as you wish’.”
“Ahh…Need to be Dumbeldore for her too eh?”
“Naa…I think she’ll need some one like John Nash.”
“Whokay. But I am your Godfather.”
“Well, if I had a middle name, it would be Chris. Chester Chris Chawla. And if I need a Best Man, I’ll call you. What a starry wedding that would be.”
“Right. Definitely. And the forces of nature tell me, you’ll all do fabulous. You’ll all leave your mark. Just hold on. And always believe.”
“Ok. TOO much SERMON. See you on You Tube.”
And then he disappeared. It was almost like a fairy tale. He had learned so much. It felt like a better world altogether. It was so amazing. So beautiful. So magical. And oh so Cool.
Chester also found his way out of the alley into the daylight of the new world. He then went to his posh school. And there he met his classmate. They had many things in common. Many things different. But there was one thing he always wanted to tell him and he gathered courage and went ahead.
“Chester,” said Chester to his classmate.
“Yup, dude,” replied the classmate.
“I always wanted to say these three words to you. They mean a lot to me. I have buried my feelings in me for too long and I must express them now, for I want to cultivate no regrets. I know you don’t feel the same way as I do, but I must pour my heart out to you. The three magic words, that might alter everything, Chal Be Bhangi![2]”
And like Cinderella he ran away. He was super joyous. He was elated and he ran and ran and ran. And then they became sworn enemies. And Chester kept meeting Chris. And all was well. And like every fairy tale, everyone lived happily ever after, even The Bhangi, ;)
The End
[1] Hindu deity of Death.
[2] Bhangi is an Indian Caste, often referred to as untouchables. However, in daily language, a Bhangi is one who’s ill mannered and can be associated with the English counterpart of loser or bugger.
[1] Hindu deity of Death.
[2] Bhangi is an Indian Caste, often referred to as untouchables. However, in daily language, a Bhangi is one who’s ill mannered and can be associated with the English counterpart of loser or bugger.
13 March 2009
The Writer's Den
I wrote the following piece for my internship at The Viewspaper. I don't know why I am publishing it, but I just like it. Hope you do too. And the names have chnaged from what they were kept originally for the "Greater Good." Here goes:
He saw her. He was new in school but knew her from a long time. She had a captivating beauty, endless charm and an unusual power of attraction. He was on a mission. He had to protect her.
“And yes, I should work for Farhan Khan, because this sounds like the script of Main Hoon Na. Crap I will never be able to write this story,” said Dev to himself.
He had been working on it for days. It had been a week since he had received this assignment as a part of the internship program he was a part of. He tried every night before sleeping, but would end up with something he had already heard or seen before. Every question of originality reminded him of the article he had once read. With every failure, he used to wonder why he joined this internship. It was meant for writers, but it always asked him to write articles that filled the empty space on their website. Weird, but as they say, beggars can’t be choosers. He didn’t know if he wanted to be a writer and maybe this could help.
He re-read what he had written. He wasn’t satisfied. There had to be something much better, more dazzling and more exquisite. He put his head down and stayed like that. He didn’t think, just laid there. Being a writer is difficult. Being a politician is difficult. Being anything you want is difficult.
He woke up. He had received an IM. It was from his best friend.
“Hey, you done with the story? I really want to read it,” said the IM by Aditi. A girl and a boy can be best friends. The only condition is, they should know when they are about to fall in love. Aditi was not only his best friend, but also his editor for the internship. She did both jobs well. She was a good critic and a great help. But he wanted more. He wanted an idea. A story.
He ignored the IM, so that he could ignore the pity that would come from the other end. He began typing again.
The world is flat. The world is crowded. And the world is now hot. Three adjectives that Friedman’s new book gives the world. But what was the world all about? What are we all about? What is the “point”“ of the world?”
“And yes, I should work with Paulo Coelho, because this sounds like a sermon. Crap I will never be able to write this story,” said Dev to himself, yet again.
He looked outside the window, trying to find some inspiration. He failed. Inspiration didn’t come with the darkness of the night or the twinkling of the stars, or for that matter, by just looking for it. It flows into the mind, like a river flows from the mountains to the plains, just naturally. It plays with the mind, like the river does along its course. And it spills its wonder when transcended from the mind onto paper, like a river, when it descends to form a waterfall. He longed for that moment.
Dev got up and stretched himself. He was determined to write this today. It was either now or never. Everyone in his house were asleep. Everything was quiet. All that played in the background was the new album of Coldplay, Viva La Vida. It was indeed “A long and dark December”. How did they get the inspiration to write such great songs? It’s difficult to be in a band, he thought. But being in his shoes was not easy either.
Aditi was always there for him. When he was gloomy and wanted a hug, when he was happy and wanted to give a hug, and when he was mood-less and just wanted to talk. She was fantastic. He could write a Sonnet for her; a Haiku praising her, or a limerick about their fun times, but the story just didn’t come.
I could be a poet, not necessarily a writer, he thought to himself. He saw Shakespeare’s Portrait in a photo frame that Aditi had gifted him. He felt small in front of him. Bard was a great man; Dev wanted to be greater. He wished that what he wrote would fly all across the world and bring the desired effect on everyone. He wanted his works to be the chariot of change, which would transform the world into Sion.
He wished he could say all this to someone. But who?
“Readers don’t like such stuff, but I don’t like what readers like,” he said to himself. If it was all so easy.
He remembered the time when his first story was published, when he received the first comment on his blog, when he kissed for the first time, and many other first times that brought an ear to ear smile on his face. But he had that memory very carefully placed in his memory; the time when he was happiest. The time when glory came after defeat, when he was victorious, when his savior had come. It was long back.
2nd grade: Post Office Assignment.
Every student was supposed to bring an inland letter, a post card and other post office crap to stick in a file. Dev did not bring anything. He had told his mother a night before, and it was fairly impossible to arrange for it. He kept sitting there, jobless, hoping someone would lend him an extra, if they had one.
Then came a knock on the door. It was his mother. She had everything he needed to stick in the shady file. Even an extra post card and 4 big, good quality drawing sheets, to speak in a 2nd grader’s language. He was happy. He was on cloud nine. He was elated. It was a rare moment. It was this memory that always gave him hope. Hope that his savior was around, that he would come out of all this and that he would deal with it, come what may.
And like the knock on the door, came another IM from Aditi. She knew him too well. His not replying, his mood; everything.
“Write about how you feel right now. Write about what you are thinking. Write your perspective of things. I am sure it’ll be different.”
And that clicked. He could write it. It was easy. And he began.
And that’s how all this began.
Before this story ends, one more time.
“And yes, I should work as a writer, because this sounds like a writer’s work. Crap! I will never be able to write a good story.”
The Writer’s Den
He saw her. He was new in school but knew her from a long time. She had a captivating beauty, endless charm and an unusual power of attraction. He was on a mission. He had to protect her.
“And yes, I should work for Farhan Khan, because this sounds like the script of Main Hoon Na. Crap I will never be able to write this story,” said Dev to himself.
He had been working on it for days. It had been a week since he had received this assignment as a part of the internship program he was a part of. He tried every night before sleeping, but would end up with something he had already heard or seen before. Every question of originality reminded him of the article he had once read. With every failure, he used to wonder why he joined this internship. It was meant for writers, but it always asked him to write articles that filled the empty space on their website. Weird, but as they say, beggars can’t be choosers. He didn’t know if he wanted to be a writer and maybe this could help.
He re-read what he had written. He wasn’t satisfied. There had to be something much better, more dazzling and more exquisite. He put his head down and stayed like that. He didn’t think, just laid there. Being a writer is difficult. Being a politician is difficult. Being anything you want is difficult.
He woke up. He had received an IM. It was from his best friend.
“Hey, you done with the story? I really want to read it,” said the IM by Aditi. A girl and a boy can be best friends. The only condition is, they should know when they are about to fall in love. Aditi was not only his best friend, but also his editor for the internship. She did both jobs well. She was a good critic and a great help. But he wanted more. He wanted an idea. A story.
He ignored the IM, so that he could ignore the pity that would come from the other end. He began typing again.
The world is flat. The world is crowded. And the world is now hot. Three adjectives that Friedman’s new book gives the world. But what was the world all about? What are we all about? What is the “point”“ of the world?”
“And yes, I should work with Paulo Coelho, because this sounds like a sermon. Crap I will never be able to write this story,” said Dev to himself, yet again.
He looked outside the window, trying to find some inspiration. He failed. Inspiration didn’t come with the darkness of the night or the twinkling of the stars, or for that matter, by just looking for it. It flows into the mind, like a river flows from the mountains to the plains, just naturally. It plays with the mind, like the river does along its course. And it spills its wonder when transcended from the mind onto paper, like a river, when it descends to form a waterfall. He longed for that moment.
Dev got up and stretched himself. He was determined to write this today. It was either now or never. Everyone in his house were asleep. Everything was quiet. All that played in the background was the new album of Coldplay, Viva La Vida. It was indeed “A long and dark December”. How did they get the inspiration to write such great songs? It’s difficult to be in a band, he thought. But being in his shoes was not easy either.
Aditi was always there for him. When he was gloomy and wanted a hug, when he was happy and wanted to give a hug, and when he was mood-less and just wanted to talk. She was fantastic. He could write a Sonnet for her; a Haiku praising her, or a limerick about their fun times, but the story just didn’t come.
I could be a poet, not necessarily a writer, he thought to himself. He saw Shakespeare’s Portrait in a photo frame that Aditi had gifted him. He felt small in front of him. Bard was a great man; Dev wanted to be greater. He wished that what he wrote would fly all across the world and bring the desired effect on everyone. He wanted his works to be the chariot of change, which would transform the world into Sion.
He wished he could say all this to someone. But who?
“Readers don’t like such stuff, but I don’t like what readers like,” he said to himself. If it was all so easy.
He remembered the time when his first story was published, when he received the first comment on his blog, when he kissed for the first time, and many other first times that brought an ear to ear smile on his face. But he had that memory very carefully placed in his memory; the time when he was happiest. The time when glory came after defeat, when he was victorious, when his savior had come. It was long back.
2nd grade: Post Office Assignment.
Every student was supposed to bring an inland letter, a post card and other post office crap to stick in a file. Dev did not bring anything. He had told his mother a night before, and it was fairly impossible to arrange for it. He kept sitting there, jobless, hoping someone would lend him an extra, if they had one.
Then came a knock on the door. It was his mother. She had everything he needed to stick in the shady file. Even an extra post card and 4 big, good quality drawing sheets, to speak in a 2nd grader’s language. He was happy. He was on cloud nine. He was elated. It was a rare moment. It was this memory that always gave him hope. Hope that his savior was around, that he would come out of all this and that he would deal with it, come what may.
And like the knock on the door, came another IM from Aditi. She knew him too well. His not replying, his mood; everything.
“Write about how you feel right now. Write about what you are thinking. Write your perspective of things. I am sure it’ll be different.”
And that clicked. He could write it. It was easy. And he began.
And that’s how all this began.
Before this story ends, one more time.
“And yes, I should work as a writer, because this sounds like a writer’s work. Crap! I will never be able to write a good story.”
15 February 2009
I don't know.
I am 17 ½ years old. I am single. I have to carve out my life, a niche in the world. Well that’s nothing new. I am not very passionate about global warming, child labor, poverty or any of that. I don’t know what to do.
I have graduated from school and all that’s left are a bunch of exams which they over hype because after all, from parents to nannies to the Education Board, who doesn’t like to scare the hell out of children.
To say that I am not scared, I’d be lying. These would be the most important exams of my life and it is a make or break issue and to mess it up would be the worst career move.
But what career am I talking about? I don’t even know what I have study tomorrow what can I say about what I have to do all my life? And trust me I have had career counseling.
I may not miss the school as a whole. But maybe its parts, friends, teachers-good and bad, the awesome-ness of being cool in are own way and the inevitable teenage politics and rivalry. Some people say children are too young and too clean to hate, but I believe that this world is too rude, to an extent that it forced a teenager, to develop so much hatred in him that he held a revolver and shot at his Bully. I can never do that, but you never know, man is nothing but a product of circumstances.
Crime and Punishment are two very difficult concepts. Probably that’s what forced Dostoevsky to write a novel by that title. Is a criminal inhuman? Is it his fault that he does what he does or is it the Divine Hand? Or is Karma? Destiny? Life? Is punishment a way of reforming the criminal or the society? Are human rights meant for criminals? Is punishment necessary or do we need a greater level of tolerance? Who is our biggest threat?
Too many questions for a 17 ½ year old. I don’t know, neither the answers nor why all this revolves in my head. Life is cruel. Life can be ended. But that’s running away. Again, the world has become bad enough that we need to liberate our souls or more like finish our pain filled existence.
I am not pessimistic. I am just worried, tensed, scared and a lot more. I just hope for the best-for my friends, my family, my brother, and my readers and eventually for the other 6 billion plus people that inhabit this world. People are born and people die, and in between they breathe the pain of life. Many have done it and we need to too. Solution—Everything is going to be fine, just deal with it. Use the heart, head, whatever. Just go on.
Image-- http://images.elfwood.com/art/z/a/zambonet/confused.jpg
PS: It's been more than a year. Thanks.
I have graduated from school and all that’s left are a bunch of exams which they over hype because after all, from parents to nannies to the Education Board, who doesn’t like to scare the hell out of children.
To say that I am not scared, I’d be lying. These would be the most important exams of my life and it is a make or break issue and to mess it up would be the worst career move.
But what career am I talking about? I don’t even know what I have study tomorrow what can I say about what I have to do all my life? And trust me I have had career counseling.
I may not miss the school as a whole. But maybe its parts, friends, teachers-good and bad, the awesome-ness of being cool in are own way and the inevitable teenage politics and rivalry. Some people say children are too young and too clean to hate, but I believe that this world is too rude, to an extent that it forced a teenager, to develop so much hatred in him that he held a revolver and shot at his Bully. I can never do that, but you never know, man is nothing but a product of circumstances.
Crime and Punishment are two very difficult concepts. Probably that’s what forced Dostoevsky to write a novel by that title. Is a criminal inhuman? Is it his fault that he does what he does or is it the Divine Hand? Or is Karma? Destiny? Life? Is punishment a way of reforming the criminal or the society? Are human rights meant for criminals? Is punishment necessary or do we need a greater level of tolerance? Who is our biggest threat?
Too many questions for a 17 ½ year old. I don’t know, neither the answers nor why all this revolves in my head. Life is cruel. Life can be ended. But that’s running away. Again, the world has become bad enough that we need to liberate our souls or more like finish our pain filled existence.
I am not pessimistic. I am just worried, tensed, scared and a lot more. I just hope for the best-for my friends, my family, my brother, and my readers and eventually for the other 6 billion plus people that inhabit this world. People are born and people die, and in between they breathe the pain of life. Many have done it and we need to too. Solution—Everything is going to be fine, just deal with it. Use the heart, head, whatever. Just go on.
Image-- http://images.elfwood.com/art/z/a/zambonet/confused.jpg
PS: It's been more than a year. Thanks.
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