Root of wrong choices

(2-62)

[dhyAyatO vishayAn punsah sanghas-tEshu upajAyatE

sanghAt sanjAyatE kAmah kAmAt krOdhah abhijAyatE]

From thinking about sensory objects, there arises attachment to them;

From attachment arises desire, and from desire arises anger.

(2-63)

[krOdhAt bhavati sam-mOhah sam-mOhat smriti vibramah

smriti bramshAt buddhi nAsho buddhi nAshAt praNashayti]

From anger arises delusion, and from delusion the loss of memory;

Loss of memory results in inability to discriminate (right from wrong),

and one who can't discriminate is destroyed.

Jogging day

I went for jog today. It's been a while since I crossed 4 kms straight, so I thought why not. So, I decided let's pump it up today. I was initially planning to do 5 but decided I'd stop if I get really breathless since I been irregular on the loop. The first couple are always a sucker. I'm always concious of the breathing and try to concentrate so I can establish a good breathing pattern and steady pace. Most people run like a mule the first mile and find themselves out of breath and decide that's their threshold, which is just wrong. Once you get a steady rhythm, you're good for atleast 3-4 km. 

I crossed 3 and didn't break a sweat so I thought what the hell let's push it today. My legs felt fine, lower back was in super shape, calf and feet didn't give bad indications either so I kept on going. You know the great thing about jogging is that it gets a lot of rotting energy out of the system. And somehow I produce energy in bucketloads. If I'm not doing some activity I get all twitchy. Jogging helps me get off some steam, physically as well as mentally. If I keep sitting on my ass, I just go crazy. My concentration time span reduces to a you-know-what. Food becomes less enjoyable - than usual. And all in all, things take a decidedly darker form.

So, after 5 I still felt that I could stretch a bit and kept going. I stopped at 6 kms which is not bad considering that I'm not doing it regularly. Walked back for a mile or so to keep my legs warm and stretched a bit to escape from cramps. I reached home at around 7:30, in a sweat, and did a complete body-stretch to ease off the muscles. Should definately try >6 once a week.

Jogging tracks

Here's the list of tracks I'm using while jogging:

Michael Mind - Show me love

Eric Prydz - Woz not woz

Eric Prydz - Pjanoo

Bob Sinclair - Love Generation

Eric Prydz - Slammin

Moby - Bodyrock

Akon - Right now

Mark Ronson - Oh wee

Rihanna - Please don't stop the music

Maddona - Music

Maddona - 4 Minutes

Spanish/South American commentary = Muppet meal

I was watching the Real vs Rosenborg match on live streaming a couple of days back and the commentary was in Spanish. Now, sensibly you should turn the volume off and watch the darn match. But no, I wouldn't do it. Had to listen to the infernal thing. Well, that's because the streaming quality was so pathetic that I couldn't make out who was who on the pitch and when the commentator identified the players only then I got the gist of formation. Anyways, Real was playing freaky, possesion football, a bit like Barca which is really really disturbing to see. Anybody other than Barca or Arsenal playing that way looks weird. I was curious to see what the 200 million pound recruits are doing and sure enough on 20 min. or so Benz scored a good goal from inside the box. 

But just when I was about to applaud the move, the commentator started shouting... Goooooooooooaaaaaaaaaal, goal, goal, goal, gooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaalllllllll (rhyming along the way). And I was like, what the fuck?! What the bloody fuck?! Since, I've seen South American matches where commentators do this a lot every time a goal is scored I consider myself ably thick-skinned to handle the assault. But don't remember Liga commentators doing this so I was taken aback. The bozo didn't stop though...GOoooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaal, Benzema, goooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaal....I felt a strange feeling of evil that I didn't know existed within me. Had I been in that commentary room, I'm sure I'd have blood on my hands by now. Goddamn fucker crying away goal, goal, goal. WTF! 

If you hear English commentators, they go like...(When the player has hit the ball)Rooooooooney...(Goal is scored)THAT WAS A SENSATIONAL STRIKE FROM WAYNE ROONEY...Twenty five yards screamer...Man Utd seems on their way to victory here...

And that's that. South Americans will sing Gooooooooooooal even when the winning team has scored a fifth goal in a 5-0 drab victory. Nothing about skill about how the guy beat a couple of man or anything, just goal. I mean sock it. 

Real were playing well and soon scored another one and the cretin screamed again. "Shut the fuck up or I'll put a sock in your mouth and score one from behind, you lousy fucking cretin." I was mutterning something to this effect. The monkey kept on going. So, I closed the stream and went back to bed. I closed my eyes and felt sleepy. There was a noise ringing in my ear...goooooaaaaaal.

Fook me! It's JD.

I am the most useless, pathetic, lazy and heartless friend in the whole wide world. This was intimated to me a few days back by one of my fellow creatures who happens to be a "too close" friend. In case, you didn't understand the "too close" part it meant he's too bloody close for comfort. How? Let me tell you.

JD is a fucking idiot and a moron of the highest degree and he's a close friend becuase I respect and admire high standards and JD is the fucking George Washington of Moronic Manual. Somehow, JD got the information that I'm operating a confidential information portal (blog) and writing all kinds of infernal things about my friends. So, few days back I received a call at 3 in the night. JD is a bloody vampire and can't stand the sunlight (apparently his skins is not suited to the Indian summer -- and JD if you're reading this, I'll fucking peel it and hang it in my drawing room as a souvenier). Here's how the conversation went:

(Please note that JD has a bias towards British accent and words, especially "Fuck". JD pronounces it as "Fook" and will slit your throat if you disagree that this is the correct and authentic pronunciation.

JD: Sid!!!

Me: JD???!!!

JD: Sid. Fookin' hell.

Me: WTF??? JD, are you dead?

JD: No.

Me: Then, why are you giving me a call? We agreed you won't call me at 3 unless you're dying or dead.

JD: What if I am dying?

Me: I'm sitting a 1000 fucking miles away. Call KS and ask him to make sure that you're dead. Tell him to shoot you a couple of times just in case and send me an SMS if he's convinced that you're pushing up daisies.

JD: What daisies? 

Me: Means when you're dead.

JD: Ohh...

JD: But this is not what I called for. 

Me: Then?

JD: I was just reading that page you write on.

Me: (Page, I write on?) What fucking page?

JD: That blog thing.

Me: Ohh. JD, are you sick or something? You never "read" stuff. Since when you started reading?

JD: Fook me.

Me: There's no need, is there? You were born fucked.

JD: How come you've written about KS and RS but not me?

Me: JD, it's fucking 3 past midnight. I have to go to office in the morning.

JD: Like fook you do. Fookin' writing stories about others and all. I want a fookin story about me in that page and I want that now.

Me: Like fuck you do. I ain't writing about anything and not especially you.

JD: And fookin why would that be?

Me: Because you are a pestering megalomaniac and it's triple fucking am in the morning.

JD: Would you fookin quit singing "3 in the mornin". You used to sleep at 5:30. What the fook has gotten into you.

Me: A job has gotten into me JD.

JD: I don't wanna hear that. If you won't write about me then I'll call every night at 2.

Me: Ok, JD. Give me a couple of days and I'll make you the star of my blog (like anybody would be reading it). 

JD: (Chuckles) Write about that Joggin' thing. Remember when we didn't sleep till 6 and decided to go for a jog?

Me: Sure, JD.

JD: Or I have a new story. Yesterday, I met this...

Me: JD, JD...

JD: Yeah?

Me: Fuck, off.

My head was spinning and JD's dastardly voice was still ringing in my ears. You'd think what's the big deal in taking a call at 2. Let me tell you something, any call at 2 is tough but if it's JD then that equals a fucking heart attack. And I couldn't afford a second attack after that so I switch my mobile off every night after 12 and even then the fear of this 21st century Dracula is such that an iron-willed man like me is writing this very entry about JD. 

Ladies and Lads, introducing the evil, "authentic" pronouncer of "fuck", the devil in devil's soul, the goddamn assasin of goodness in heaven, the one and only...J fucking D.

[Note: JD, I've written this infernal thing. My soul is drenched in guilt for writing this filty description. So, if you ever fucking called me again for so much as a word in my blog, I'm going to chop off your balls and sell it to the gypsies.]

Quotes on Perseverance

The question isn't who is going to let me; it's who is going to stop me.

The road to success is dotted with many tempting parking places.  ~Author Unknown


When the world says, "Give up,"
Hope whispers, "Try it one more time."
~Author Unknown


Don't be afraid to give your best to what seemingly are small jobs.  Every time you conquer one it makes you that much stronger.  If you do the little jobs well, the big ones will tend to take care of themselves.  ~Dale Carnegie


Nobody trips over mountains.  It is the small pebble that causes you to stumble.  Pass all the pebbles in your path and you will find you have crossed the mountain.  ~Author Unknown


When you come to the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on.  ~Franklin D. Roosevelt


Consider the postage stamp:  its usefulness consists in the ability to stick to one thing till it gets there.  ~Josh Billings


The greatest oak was once a little nut who held its ground.  ~Author Unknown


Fall seven times, stand up eight.  ~Japanese Proverb


Perseverance is the hard work you do after you get tired of doing the hard work you already did.  ~Newt Gingrich


If one dream should fall and break into a thousand pieces, never be afraid to pick one of those pieces up and begin again.  ~Flavia Weedn, Flavia and the Dream Maker, © Flavia.com


He conquers who endures.  ~Persius


The race is not always to the swift, but to those who keep on running.  ~Author unknown, in reference to Ecclesiastes 9:11, "I returned, and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all."


You can't go through life quitting everything.  If you're going to achieve anything, you've got to stick with something.  ~From the television show Family Matters


It's not that I'm so smart, it's just that I stay with problems longer.  ~Albert Einstein


There is no telling how many miles you will have to run while chasing a dream.  ~Author Unknown


Perseverance... keeps honor bright:  to have done, is to hang quite out of fashion, like a rusty nail in monumental mockery.  ~William Shakespeare


The drops of rain make a hole in the stone not by violence but by oft falling.  ~Lucretius


But the moment you turn a corner you see another straight stretch ahead and there comes some further challenge to your ambition.  ~Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.


Don't be discouraged.  It's often the last key in the bunch that opens the lock.  ~Author Unknown


The great majority of men are bundles of beginnings.  ~Ralph Waldo Emerson


Saints are sinners who kept on going.  ~Robert Louis Stevenson


If we are facing in the right direction, all we have to do is keep on walking.  ~Buddhist Saying


I may not be there yet, but I'm closer than I was yesterday.  ~Author Unknown


Keep on going, and the chances are that you will stumble on something, perhaps when you are least expecting it.  I never heard of anyone ever stumbling on something sitting down.  ~Charles F. Kettering


One may go a long way after one is tired.  ~French Proverb


Our greatest glory is not in never failing, but in rising up every time we fail.  ~Ralph Waldo Emerson


Problems are not stop signs, they are guidelines.  ~Robert Schuller


Vitality shows in not only the ability to persist but the ability to start over.  ~F. Scott Fitzgerald


Most people never run far enough on their first wind to find out they've got a second.  ~William James


Difficult things take a long time, impossible things a little longer.  ~Author Unknown

Success seems to be largely a matter of hanging on after others have let go.  ~William Feather

Look at a stone cutter hammering away at his rock, perhaps a hundred times without as much as a crack showing in it.  Yet at the hundred-and-first blow it will split in two, and I know it was not the last blow that did it, but all that had gone before.  ~Jacob A. Riis

Time for a holiday

Life's a waste of a journey. Sometimes I wonder what's the point? That's actually a good indicator. When you're thinking this way about your life then you're waking up. And waking up means issues. Fucking, loads of issues. Whys and fucking why nots. So, the only sensible thing is to go on a holiday and take some rest and recharge your batteries to go back to sleep. Weird isn't it? You need to stay charged to stay asleep. That's life. 

Most of the time, I don't feel like taking a break. I've even acquired this ill reputation of being lazy when it comes to adventures. But there's a whole different angle there. I'm not averse to adventures, quite the opposite but most of the time, I've much more pressing things to do. Secondly, I don't just get up and go. I go when I feel like going. People are often interested in destinations, mostly too interested and they make worse journeys to reach there. I'm always interested in journeys and don't bother much about destinations. I like my journeys to be stimulating, and that comes only when I'm in a certain frame of mind. Destinations offer little stimulation, it's a temple or a beach or a hillstation. What's there to be excited about? Journeys hold a different flavor. I love travelling on foot as much as I can. So obvious choices are a forest or a hill. Jeez I'm just crazy about quiet places. Barren forests, dark uninhabited riversides, secluded hills. I'm not much of  a crowd guy, and if I have to go on a holiday to a crowded place I sulk big time. Different tastes I guess.

Then there are places that you want to go back to. You know, where you left some memories, some long passed moments that refuse to fade with time. And you being an ass go back to refresh them to relive whatever little you can. I guess that's what an addiction is. You drink or smoke because it makes you feel good although you know it'll kill you but who gives a shit. That hedonist is there in every one of us and some feel its push more than others.

So, I hope I find some time for myself and get away to one of such quiet places. All this fucking bustling of life makes you a little numb sometimes and you stop feeling yourself at times so it's important you sit with yourself a little while and get to know how awful you actually are.

Movies -- Snatch

This is one heck of a movie. Purely, guys movie. So don't blame me for the crudity that's brandished around like snow on christmas. I don't mind the pun as long as it's used with nous and Snatch is a case in point. Jeez, it just keeps getting better and better. And all the characters fit like a fucking Armani. Be it Avi, Tyrone or Vin and Sol or that fucking pikey. And the best thing is that the movie just keep getting wackier supported by awsome soundtrack. Bushes and Diamond are my favorites...

I'm trying to get the Lock, Stock movie and hope that turns out as good as this one. That Statham guy ain't too bad either. Here's a piece of him from the movie:

Tommy: I fucking hate pikeys.

Turkish(Statham): You're a sensitive boy, ain't you Tommy.

Turkish: Fuck me, hold tight. What's that?

Tommy: It's me belt, Turkish.

Turkish: No Tommy, there's a gun in your trousers. What's a gun doing in your trousers?

Tommy: It's for protection.

Turkish: Protection from what? 'Zee' Germans? What's to stop it blowing your bollocks off when you sit? :)

or take this...

Doug: AVI...

Avi: Shut up and sit down you big bald fuck.

So, till 'Zee' Germans present something better, enjoy the fest...

Ice cream @ 1 AM -- Part 1

KS, Ravi and SRK came to my place "to study" for the first year grad exams. I was living in Delhi while my parents were in Jaipur. Their visits usually went as follows:

Primary Target: Study

Sequence of Events Planned:

a). Get some frozen chicken and salamis (This was when I was still NV).

b). Get 8 Lit of Pepsi (KS would try to go for beer but I wouldn't let him.)

c). Check all ingredients are available, onions and lemons etc.

d). Once home, put all the books carefully under the table and chat about shit.

e). Prepare the stuff, eat, drink and be merry.

f). Suddenly at 5 min to 11 realize that we need to get a movie from the library. Drive @ 80 to catch the shop, just when he's about to down the shutter. Then, eat his ears out by standing there for 30 min deciding on a movie that we realized that we've seen but thought the other guy might not have.

Now, we have at our disposal, raw chicken, awful movie, chilled Pepsi and "books". So, the next step was peeling the onions which somehow was always given to Ravi (he's the world's worst onion peeler by some fucking miles). After every onion he'd shout about how he's gonna go blind one fucking day. KS would go absolutely off his rocker.

KS: Fuck that. Ravi. You are fucking useless.

Ravi: Yeah, how come you're so good at it but never get to do it.

KS: Fuck it. After you're done crying a bucket after peeling one onion, I finish the rest.

Ravi: Like shit you do.

SRK: Why the hell do you need to peel the fucking onions every fucking time???

[Note: SRK was vegetarian.]

KS: You just eat some vegetables and keep quiet.

Me: Chill out KS. It's still some time away from needing onions.

KS: How many times have you made a fucking chicken???

Me: Never, I prefer to make the dead ones.

[KS would be thrown inside the room and kicked by the three of us after he's had a go at all three of us.]

KS(from inside the room): What's wrong with the fucking cooler?

Ravi: Shut up and take it up yours.

[Quiet]

KS: I'm gonna fucking die of suffocation, shit.

I'd wash the stuff and start preparing. We then would let KS out because he was the best at cooking and we didn't want to sweat it out for crap. For the record, I don't cook too bad just that KS cooked a hell lot better.

So after everything is cooked and ready. We'd ask SRK to bring the ice. But, since for the last half an hour KS has been sticking his ass in the freezer there's very little left and whatever little is there is in KS' inners. We weren't that desperate. KS would hear a few more abuses and come sober after some cooling experience. KS used to sweat like a a fucking polar bear in Sahara desert.

The movie starts:

SRK: What's wrong with the sound? I can't hear what he said.

...

SRK: What did she say?

...

SRK: Is he the ghost? What is he saying???

Ravi: He's asking to fucking shut up and listen to him moaning.

KS: (The ghost is about to come)...Why is that balcony door open? Close that door.

Ravi: Shut up and watch it.

KS: Close that door or we're not watching it.

Me: What the hell. Just now you said cooler is not effective.

KS: Fix the cooler and close the door.

SRK: Bloody hell! He's just scared.

KS: Who's fucking scared!!!

[Half-an hour gone, door is finally closed. KS in in a corner between the three of us.]

[Just before the climax, 15 min. of the finish]

SRK: Fuck, we had to finish two whole books and we're watching movies.

Ravi: Go and study then.

SRK: Ravi, you'd be the first with your hands up when the paper comes.

Ravi: Well, I'm at least earning it.

KS: You've watched the whole movie and 15 min. before suddenly your soul is crying!!!

Me: Just watch the movie. It's only 12:30. We can put in 4-5 hours and we're good.

[Movie is finished, so is the chicken and Pepsi.]

KS: I want an ice cream.

[Rest in Part 2]...

Certified Marriage Material

Yesterday was one of those days. When you're living as a bachelor with 4-5 other guys there are days when they go berserk and have a blast. And shit starts flying and we all laugh like fucking morons. We were sitting there in the drawing room and me and WL were teasing AK about chicks. Apparently AK has been certified as marriage material. It's official! WL told me when we were on our way to Chroma. How could I let that go? So, when we were back we asked AK about who said it and what did she say, in detail etc. AK went pink, then red then yellow. His face was a kaleidoscope of emotions. Me and WL were grinning so hard our smiles joined at the back of our head.

And then ST came and asked what was this all about. We just told him chicks have said something about AK but were urging AK to open up and spill the beans. He didn't and after a lot of teasing ST finally broke down and urged to finally tell him what's going on. We added some spice to it and dished out. Boy!!! AK was in deep trouble. You would be if girls are coming up to you and telling that you're marriage material. I've had a few come up to me and flirt but marriage material!!! Seriously. You've to be kidding me. 

We asked AK how did he reply and he said - "Nothing they were just teasing me. I didn't reply." It's obvious that he must have given his billion dollar dimpled smile and that chick must have thought, yup, chicken in the bag. Poor girl. We asked - "Did you smile?". And he gave us a sample. We held our heads and asked what do you think you were doing giving smiles when somebody tells you that you're MM? He grinned sheepishly. 

So we were having a normal day. Picking on AK and then the ball started rolling from WL to ST to me finally. But the poor guys get very little material for me. Some girl coming up to me and saying that??? Not a chance. I ain't no AK but there's something else. People don't just come up to me and say the first thing on their mind. They sense that this is a no-mess area. I remember in school there was a rumor that I was a devil's incarnate. For the record, I'm still proud of that title; earned it too.

But when it comes to AK, chicks just drool over him. And why not? He's that kind of a guy too. But that has its dangers too. So we were telling AK to be very careful and not get involved. "Home to office, office to home. No smart moves, no dimpled smiles. You got that?" He said he did. We knew, he didn't. Next day this girl would pass a smile to AK and he'll smile back. Not because he has intentions. But because it's an impulse in his case; his circuit is built that way. I remember him smiling while giving a presentation; with every sentence his smile got broader and broader and finally the instructor asked what's so funny.

But the real drama started when the Vegetarian egg problem started. I thought I'd write about that in this post but it's too long so I'll do it in the next one.

Watched Fast and the Furious...

Yup. One hell of a kickass movie. If you're not into SRK and CC to China stuff, you'd like it. The cars are awesome and Vin Diesel looked great. I was impressed with FATF-TD but this is a different pie. It ain't no mere racing flick. Has a nice story and direction for a change. And the soundtrack just blows you away. That reminds me - I need to get the OST for this one.

Counter Strike - After a lifetime

The best thing in CS is the Sniper. A great sniper is a ghost who is never visible. If you're lucky you see him when you're dead and at worst he'll stake you out regardless of whether you're a gangbanger or a wait-and-shoot killer. He moves in the shadows and leaves no traces. You're not supposed to get within 10 yards of a sniper, alive.

That's your perfect strategy sniper. The gung-ho sniper is altogether different. He doesn't give a fuck as to who's watching and who's coming. He ain't no shortgun smasher and though he might shoot only one bullet at a time, he kills like shit. Then there's always the NightHawk that protects him and one headshot with this baby and you're on your way to graceland.

If you haven't played CS then you wouldn't know what the fuck all this is about. But that's Ok. It's like reading the dialogues of a Rambo movie, and why am I making a Rambo here? I ain't. I just played CS after a fucking long time so I thought I'd write something about it.

What do you write about CS? It's bloody, gory but it's not mindless. It's attitude. Some people play like the bullet's gonna fucking break the screen and get into their head, others don't even see where they are firing, some hide and wait for the right moment and some are showstoppers. You'll get all kinds and that's the fun in it. Then there are duels. Snipers against Kreigs, AK against Mavericks, Shortguns against SMGs and Snipers. Ohh...it's just too much of a killer to resist. But, I haven't played it for ages now. 

Yesterday WL was playing the sniper round and my fingers started itching. So I had a go. 4-5 rounds. Enough to whet the appetite but then let go. This ain't the road to go.

Payback

Life pans a load of crap and sometimes you feel that you don't deserve that. But you gotta be strong and decide whether it was justified or not. Don't take the crap and walk away. Always remember, and wait. Never forget the shit, ever. When the time comes, dish it out, one by fucking one.

Somebody sent me a quote that said, if everybody had an eye for an eye the world would go blind. Hey, does it look like I give a fuck! This world ain't no fairy tale and you ain't no prince fucking charming, so stand up and take it on the chin. And when the time comes, take no prisoners. 

Delhi Visit...

Went back after almost six months. Things seems to have changed a little bit. But the mornings hold their charm. Geez, I just love early mornings in Delhi. I still remember how I used to travel 4 km in the morning with my Cricket backpack on my shoulder to the ground, 5 in the morning. Group of 8-9 boys, rubbing their hands out of cold, we used to play for 3-4 hours and then come back for breakfast. 

But those days are behind. Somebody in Delhi reminded me this, that every passing day, every passing second won't be coming back. But then I'm not the type of guy who looks back. I guess it'll all be accounted for once and for all.

I spent much of my 2 days at home. Ma cooked some really delicious stuff and I for a change gorged without a thought. Sunday morning I sat down with parents and watched some old videos of their trip to Badrinath-Kedarnath. I remembered some of the places from my own visit and that felt good. That was a wonderful trip. I don't know whether I'll go on another such trip. I'm not left with many reasons for it.

Hmm. I was thinking of a more exciting post but the visit was uneventful, although very soothing but little to write about. I guess I'm charged for the next six months and looking forward to a few things in life.

Dilli Diaries 1 - Traffic Banter

[Famous Chandni Chowk traffic]

I was itching to write about Dilli (for others it's Delhi, but for us it's good old Dilli), for a long time. There are so many things about this beautiful place that are close to my heart. Sometimes, when I sit down and think about the moments I have spent in this eternal city, it opens a Pandora's box of memories. I never wanted a long life, in fact, I always wanted to live for 35 years, no more. This isn't because I don't like to live. It's just that I don't want a long life, I want a big life. What is life, except those moments that you created and faced. And Dilli is the city of moments.

If I got a chance to choose my place of birth again, I won't swap it for anyplace else. Not many would but it's not because I was born here. But because, it's more than just a place of birth for me. A place that I keep coming back to whenever life breaks me down. It's a place that don't ask questions, that don't judge, that don't prove theories, that don't argue. Dilli is pure heart. When you reach this place, there's nothing more than open arms that wait for you. And it's not sentimental. Dilli is a heart-centric city. I carry the spirit of this city within me. A spirit that knows how to go with the flow, that opens its heart to strangers and let them be friends.

Dilli is often called Dilwalon Ki Dilli (Delhi of those who have a heart). It's not an undue sobriquet. But we Dilli-walah aren't your run-of-the-mill maudlin straight guys. We are equally sharp-tongued when we want to be. If you don't believe me, just try to be a hot-shot biker on the Dilli roads, you won't cross a Km before hearing a barrage of Ma-xxx and Behan-xxx stuff. Hey, just because we don't say it doesn't mean we don't know it. So, don't let the pleasant nature fool you. Think twice before getting on the wrong side. The good thing is, it's all forgotten quickly.

Traffic situations are really something that gives you an idea about this place. These days, the traffic isn't such a big issue because of the Metro and the non-stop flyovers but sometimes you do get stuck. And I remember being in the middle of a 2Km jam with the temperature right up at 45. Sometimes, somebody gets really pissed and start giving horns. And immediately you'd see the "take-off" gesture. It's one of my personal favorites. And you'd see an immediate smile on the horn-blower. If you're thirsty, just ask the car-walah standing next to you if he's got some water and he'd hand you over whatever little he's got. Chilled or boiling, but he'll share. And sometimes you'd meet some Sardar Ji, he'd say something like - "Yaar, is baar te ruj ke garmi payi hai (Yaar, this time the heat has really come down hard)". His back would be wet with sweat and he'd have some boxes on his old Chetak scooter, a middle class businessman, heading to Daryaganj or Karol Bagh. And I'd reply, "O ji, is baar April wich hi chali paunch gaya hai, agge pata nai ki hoyega (This time, the temp. has hit 40 in April itself. Don't know what'll happen next)". Sardar Ji - "Yaar, lassi wassi honi chaidi ai naal". And we'd babble about other stuff and when the traffic opens we'd be off to our own destinations. But that's how things go.

Check this for more on my birth city: http://thedelhiwalla.blogspot.com/

Pony Update...

As I discussed sometime back, which most people didn't take seriously - I'm quite serious about the pony. I've made huge strides towards acquiring one. I haven't seen the barber since last three weeks. Every time I go past a hair saloon, I control this urge to get the load of my head off. My hair are now 4 inches long which is a new personal milestone. The problem is that I need to shampoo everyday as my hair get really rough and wavy if I miss it even for a day.

The sideburns are getting messier by every passing day and one of these days when I'm going to have a bad hair day at office and that would serious send this whole thing packing. The problem is that the hair are neither long nor short. They're kind-of in-between. I can neither keep them tight nor let them fluff. Precarious situation! And the back hair are twisting and turning true Roman style. They get the least attention and are making the full use of it. But it's still manageable, the problem is that I'd be going home next Thursday and I doubt I'd be breaking any ice with these locks of mine.

The other interesting thing is, today ST bought one of those hair clips that guys wear these days. You know the black one with curls that make roads in the hair. Umm, like the one Abhishek Bachchan wore in the Idea add when he was the guide of a mute girl. So, he dangled it in front of me and I asked him to try it out. He moistened his hair and put it on - nice. So, I joked that maybe I can also try it, my Moses act is going to get harder so maybe it can help me manage that. He gave me one of the dismissive looks, like, YOU!!! I guess, I come across as an ultra-conservative, but that's because the conservative look suits me (I imagine it does :) ). It's not like I have a mental block that I can't wear freakish but I don't feel like differentiating on the basis of clothes. That's lame. If you're different then others notice, simple clothes or flashy. [Mental Note: Clothing preferences should be discussed in a separate post.]

So, the game is still on. I might be tempted to keep a high pony, more like GoldenBalls than Boondock. Let's see how that comes across.

WL Status

WL has started firing on 2 cylinders now. He just rode the bike yesterday. If you're a late-comer, then I'd let you know that our Rambo got a bad one and was bed-ridden for the better part of March. The injury started on 5th and got progressively worse. WL had an operation and stayed in the hospital for a week or so and now he's back home. 

Yeah, so he's grown quite itchy now. He's like a zoo animal hoping to break out. Just to get out of the house has become a joyride for him. So, the update is that he's started moving (bloody fiddles around the house, when the injury is still there). He drove to his Citibank ATM and looked quite smug while telling me this. I, obviously took quite a dim view of this and let him know this too. But WL didn't mind it.

From next Monday he might join office too, which is great news. He's been really sick of sitting at home. And I'm sick of his asking for movies from me. He's watched all fucking four seasons of Supernatural and watched a bit of Lost too. He handed me the first season of the later but I haven't started it yet. I'm just too lazy for this. And the awful thing is, every time I suggest a movie, he'll make a face like he's swallowed a frog and then not 15 minutes later he'd be back asking whether I had any good movie. I guess I need to find another one like "Zodiac". [Fucking serious warning!!! - Do not, in any case, watch this movie. Even if somebody is willing to pay for this.] I still get a lot of stick because I was the one who made them watch this movie. But then I went by the site ratings, so how was I to know the awful, super sucking experience that waited ahead of us. We are planning to courier this movie to all our enemies before dying.

The weather is just awful and I'm red hot all the time these days (not in the usual, sexy way). My face has grown browner than a cookie and I look like I got twice the usual tan, like Ross did in one episode.

Watching foreign films...

I remember going to school when I was quite young and there was this kid who used to carry a blade with him always and insisted on sharpening his pencils with this blade. Not because it was macho or something, he was too young for that. He just never liked a pencil sharpened by a sharpener. The other kids used to mock him quite a lot for this. It was slow, clumsy and sometimes when the wood was too hard, it was difficult to scalp. Sometimes when the paint was rough the blade used to slip and it gave a cut on the finger. The index finger of his left hand had numerous cuts; it never healed because of the continuous cuts that it received. If the tip broke down in the middle of the dictation, he must have a spare pencil otherwise it'd take quite some time to catch up.

But despite all these things he insisted on using a razor. He had a broken shaving blade (Wilkinson, I think.) and he always kept it close by. I was fascinated by this. I once borrowed his pencil and wrote and the writing felt really smooth and beautiful. Even as a 5 year old, you can discern what feels good and what doesn't. A sharpener gave a conically sharp tip that, when sharpened too much for clarity, broke into powder and grew progressively blunt and you needed to sharpen it again and again. You needed to sharpen it frequently. Whereas the blade tip stayed sharp because you made it so. Neither too sharp, nor rounded, and went on beautifully.

I learned a lot of things, apart from the fact that blade cuts. I learned to seek out soft wood pencils, to shape it so that the tip lasts a couple of pages (or more?), l learned that what might come across as a weird hobby might conceal a depth of knowledge. I've been lenient with weirdos ever since. 

So, one fine day, I was harping on the fact that WL has got a 400 kbps connection and we have no horror movies to watch. WL said there aren't any good new movies but how would it matter to me? I banged his head on and on and made him feel miserable. So, he finally came up with a movie and when we finally sat down for the show on Friday night, he told us that the movie has a rating of 90 something on rottentomatoes. We were impressed. But there was a little glitch. The movie was Swedish! WTF!!! He said he had the subtitles so no problem. ST looked at him like he was some rare form of species (which he is, but most of the time marauds as a human being!). We had nothing more to watch so after half an hour of banter we settled down for the movie. 

This movie was - "Let the right one in". I'll write a review of this too (maybe this weekend). It's a romantic movie and I usually stay away from these like they're some sort of disease (which, they are!! [Mental note: Write on harmful effects of romantic movies]). Yeah, so it's actually a romantic horror movie and we were absolutely dumbstuck while watching it. It's one of the most beautiful movies I've seen in a long long time. It's tells the story on so many levels that you just marvel at the experience. We're discussing the movie even after it finished. 

WL and ST went cold on foreign films but my appetite got stronger by every passing day. I watch "The Twilight Samurai (Japanese)", "Waltz with Bashir (Animation/Iraq?)", "Persepolis(Animation/Iran)" and just watched "The Devil's Backbone(Spanish)". I'll be writing a few reviews, when I've nothing else to write about. Maybe, I might be able to open some new vistas for you, as my friends did for me.

Sennheiser HD 202

[Click image to enlarge...]

I've been starved of music for quite some time now. I used to take really long walks with my SE but it's got horrible earphones; not quality wise, they're Ok, but very fragile. So, I was getting ready for office when I dropped it against the floor and it's head burst open. I was already in a not so good mood and the moment it broke I went all Darkseid.

So, I've been without music whenever on the move and when I'm back home, my old headphones play selective. It has an evil policy of making sounds from one side at a time only. Rehman song's get special flavor with these babies. I don't know whether you remember or not but in that Pappu song, there's a flashing music that moves from left to right or vice versa. When you hear it with these chicks it starts from one side and never reaches the other side. Awesome. What more can you ask for? So all in all, life was getting along excellent till one day I was watching Supernatural and the damn thing got so annoying that I decided to buy a new pair.

Now, I had to buy two sets, one for lappy and one for SE. And presently I don't really have a Sheikh's ransom to spend so I thought to buy a cheaper SE ear-set and a nice headgear for the lappy. I had heard about Sennheiser and thought what the hell, why not?! 

So, I went with ST to get my very own pair. We reached Chroma at around 9:00. We had to buy WL's medicine too so we made a quick deal. I paid through the nose and the guy had it tested on an IPod Touch. It felt pretty ordinary. But the deal was made and I said whatever...

We roamed around to get WL's medicine but couldn't get it after scouring some 9 medical stores. We were swearing at the bloody doctor who prescribed the drug. ST told me about the MR (read - Medical Representative) and the games doctors play. I wasn't aware and was pretty disgusted on hearing this. I felt like tearing this doc's head and do a Beckham. 

So, we finally had to get this medicine from the hospital. But it was a nice ride, cool wind blowing across the face. We reached home at 11 and I got the chance to plug the beast in the lappy. I didn't discern anything at first but when I heard "Masakalli", I went WOW! I mean I never heard all those instruments in my WWII headsets. I tweaked the equaliser a wee bit and the response was awesome. Set the middle bass a little higher with the treble comfortable for the ears. The sound was coming really smooth. I checked "Rehna Tu" and Rehman's voice sounded so cool it was absolutely worth it. I check a few more. "Jind Sadi" from Bally Sagoo and a few other Punjabi songs; it gave me superb beats. Changed to a few more Rehman...Geez just hear Saathiya on the beast! Tried some ghazals, Udhas, Ghulam Ali and Jagjit, all went well. I don't think you've heard of it but if you get the soundtracks from Age Of Mythology, try it. "Adult Swim" absolutely will blow you away. I played around and felt very nice with the acquisition.

I've installed SRS Audio Sandbox and this is one hell of a plug-in. If you really want to hear something really smooth, check this thing out. Next stop, BOSE... :)

Fergie about stuff...taken in March 09

There are very few people I'd like to emulate, not more than 4 or 5. And Fergie is right up there. For me, this man's a legend. The greatest man-manager of his era.

The best players he ever saw: 'Pele, di Stefano, Maradona and Cruyff. In that order.'

Greatest manager: Jock Stein.

Best managers in the Premier League: 'You'd have to say Arsene Wenger, David Moyes and Martin O'Neill.'

Greatest achievement: 'The treble in 1999, and in particular the comeback at Barcelona against Bayern.'

Biggest mistake: 'Letting go of Jaap Stam. No question.'

Biggest disappointment: 'Not getting Gazza. He was a fabulous footballer and he would have done brilliantly here.'

Best goal scored under your management: 'Giggs against Arsenal at Villa Park (1999 FA Cup semi-final). Out of this world.'

Three most important leadership qualities: 'Control. Managing change. And observation. Spotting everything around you, analysing what is important. Seeing dangers and opportunities that others can't see.'

Can Manchester United win five trophies this year? 'No. The thing about Cup football is you need to be the best, but you also need a lot of luck, and I think it's asking too much for all the games to go your way.'

Retirement: 'Not for a while. I'm 67 now. My health's good. I still have the drive and energy. I've been here more than 22 years, but I still get a buzz arriving at the training ground.'

Sneaking inside the hospital

ME and AK went to the hospital to check on WL. The problem was that we didn't have any passes. And at 9 at night we can't maraud the in-patient premises. So, we were talking about how to get in. AK said we should split up as the guard would certainly stop the two of us, if together. So, we split up, I moved ahead and sat down in the visitor premises and AK was behind.

There were two ways to get in. The first is guarded and at 10 paces from this guarded door is the lift that takes you in the patient section upstairs. The other way is a little roundabout and not guarded but takes you to the same lift. But since the lift is so close to the guard you need to be careful when taking this way. So I waited for AK to appear; after sitting in the premises for 15 min, I called him up. He was already in. Apparently he just walked past the guard.

I didn't try it because if you fail then the chances of getting in gets very slim. I thought about buying some stuff from the hospital shop and walk straight past like AK; if the guard asks anything I could say I just came down to make this purchase. So, I purchased some chips and just when I was about to make my move I heard my mobile ringing. Old friend called to catch up. So, I sat down and talked for a while and finished the chips.

AK called asking me if I need help. I said I'd be through in 5 min. Now the only way was the roundabout one, through Emergency ward. So, I went in, with a languid, non-chalant demeanor and strolled around to find the lift. It was just a few rooms away. I didn't wanted to wait in front of the lift and be caught by the guard as he'd eyed me at the outside premises. So, I waited for somebody to get the lift down; it was on 3rd floor. A couple of docs passed and I fiddled with my already folded jeans. Finally, a nurse came and as soon as the lift door opened I went for it. While going in I sneaked a glance at the guard who was making his mind to halt me but took too much time.

So I went 20 mins late, AK was smiling smugly at me. Our damsel in distress was feeling sleepy and was asking for a painkiller. He said he'd gone through all the episodes of Supernatural and asked me to bring next ones. I said, sure. So, me and AK left after an hour and came back with the episodes in usb. WL was already asleep.

Khwab's dreams - Part 1

The sky was filled with clouds scattered here and there, the sun was still in some other part of the world, moving slowly to grace the new skies. The light began its embrace and wherever the eyes could see a soft whiteness touched everything. The clouds, the faraway mountains, the tress and grass fields. A white mist moistened the eyes of those who already started for work, hanging in the air just a little longer. And without the gold of the sun it still had the slight coldness which brushed off any lingering sleep in the early risers. 

It was still early and the chaos of humanity had not started yet. The stillness was broken occasionally by the song of birds, the flapping of the wings in the sky. They already started their play of the day, circling the skies, flying here and there for no apparent reason. This group of birds formed myriad shapes and gracefully twisted and turned making mysterious patterns of flight. Maybe being with friends was good enough reason for their joy or the lovely morning was too good to waste sitting idly. A crow voiced its concerned at being alone, watching the group, maybe with longing. A couple of sparrows flew around a tree collecting small fragments of grass. But all this play of nature didn't disturbed the pleasantness of the morning. Rather it made it all the more charming.

Khwab was fast asleep. The pleasant wind of the morning and the mild light makes sleep all the more savoury to those who like to linger a little longer on their pillows. Kabir was already awake reciting his morning prayer. His white cap shone in the first rays of the sun and an expression of melancholy serenity poised his person. Kabir liked the quietude of the morning when he could sit peacefully for a moment, the burdens of yesterday still in slumber and the labour of the day still to start. For Kabir this prayer was like taking a piece of strength from God for the day ahead. Sometimes he would wonder whether the almighty always calculated before giving his alms as the piece always lasted for that single day and no more. No matter how hard or how easy the day was Kabir felt exhausted at the end of it and would go back to the same well for renewal in the morning.

Finishing his prayer, Kabir touched his forehead at the plain, spotless white cloth in front of him. The daily chores beckoned and Kabir with his habitual punctuality started his work. He folded the sleeves of his robe picked up a handful of coals from a ragbag. With blackened hands he started making fire near the wooden bench on which Khwab was fast asleep. Khwab liked the assuaging warmth of coals and the smell of thick chapatis Kabir cooked on it.

"Khwab, Khwab...it's morning chote sahab." - Kabir couldn't shake him as his hands were all black with coal.

"Wake up...we have to leave for city." 

Khwab let go of his ragged blanket. Going to city was his favorite pastime. Every few weeks Kabir would go to the city to buy leather and took Khwab with him. He tried to make Khwab acquinted with the people he did business with but the boy was always in some other world. Looking here and there, marvelling at something which didn't concerned him, or so Kabir thought.

Khwab woke up and after taking a bath and saying his prayers sat down with Kabir for breakfast. The thick chapati, onion and some salt - not many would consider them as a delicious but on a hungry stomach it tasted like a delicacy.

Restless heart...

Some days, I just sit down with myself and don't feel like doing anything. Life seems like a bad dream from which I can't seem to wake up. And the worst part is that I don't know why I feel this way. People tell me that this delirium has gone for a few months now and is not a mere mood swing that would change of its own accord. Something has changed and so drastically that I don't recognize what's inside. How'd you feel if you wake up one day and see a different face in the mirror than the one you're used to, no matter how ugly it was?

If only I could find that lost thread of contentment! Maybe it's the uncertainity. Although I was never the one fretting about things, the fact that I don't know where I'm heading is taking its toll. There's a dreamlessness, a hopelessness...there's nothing to which I look forward to at this point in my life. It's one of the worst things in life, when you stop looking forward. Maybe, when certainity returns to life, things will begin to look up. 

Sometimes, out of nowhere this yearning comes up to leave all this nonsense behind and pack my bags and go somewhere; someplace far and quiet where I could just be. But where can a restless heart go?

Once upon a horror movie...

Guys just love horror movies. And seriously, we don't like to take girls on horror movies so that they can cuddle in with us when the not-so-spooky ghost turns up with a clattering sound. It's nothing but a fad movie theme. And if you're a girl don't count on the movie to turn the guy on and give you a protective hug. Chances are when the story gets really creepy, he won't even notice that you're sitting next to him. It's not like guys aren't romantic, just that horror is a little bit like an opium that lifts us out of ourselves once in a while.

But there are different kinds of horror flicks. If you catch somebody watching a Ramsay horror or a hindi horror movie chances are the guy's not much into horror but is frying some other fish, if you know what I mean. I remember watching a  hindi horror movie where the so called "ghost" had not even a mask on. The only thing for special effects was that he had a nice beard and the lights went red everytime the guy came into focus. Pretty scary, huh!

Indians have a long standing romance with superstitions and myths and there's a galore of material waiting to be explored. And what do they come up with when they make a horror movie. Some fucking idiot who practices the black craft is killed by the village head and he becomes a demon and haunts the daughter of this village head, who is finally saved by a guy who's come in town for a couple of days and falls in love with her. Well, shitting blimey!!! It's just ludicrous!!

But the story doesn't end here. There's still more to come. Ramsay's make honorable movies according to some people. Go down a peg and the you'll find horror movies with the most bizzare farcical themes. During my grad this guy from Chandigarh told me about a horror movie where an innocent guy is kidnapped by a group of girls and the guy gets killed accidently while these girls are having some fun and this guy becomes a ghost and avenges himself. The moment I heard this, I held my head in my hand and I uttered every single fucking obscenity that came into my feeble mind. KS was with me and he laughed like a fucking retard when he heard this. Shit, he was literally crying with laughter.

I remember watching The Exorcist as a kid and I was really fascinated. Some religions don't have a negative figure as strong as the antichrist, Lucifer and that might be one of our weakest points in terms of movies. I hate to bring demography, politics or religion into debate but it's just for the sake of movies and legends that I'm talking about so flee before you take offense. A horror movie touches you on many levels. Shit, I didn't sleep right after watching Exorcist for a week. The horrible face of that childish monster is one of the best depictions of horror I've seen. It carried a lot of depth, and power too. Most of the hindi movie ghosts go weak in the knees the moment you put a trident in front of them. So, it takes all the fright out of it, basically. If you don't have a really badass villian then what's the fun in it?

There aren't many scary horror movies that you'd get to watch these days. They're more shocking than scary. I saw "The Skeleton Key" and it had a beautiful ending but it wasn't a scary one. You can watch "Mirrors", "End of Days" was Ok too. I can't recollect many others. Umm..."Ring" was Ok, I didn't like Grudge all that much and won't call Final Destination as scary but they were Ok. "STIGMATA" was good, really nice movie. Aha, I didn't even remember this one. Watched it ages ago.

Note to self - Always establisht the A Priori carefully...

This is a mini-dictum that I need to remember. Always before starting any significant work in life give due time to establish an unshakable a priori. I have a tendency to be reckless and impulsive but then it is not entirely obscene to be reckless in youth. The only thing is that with age maturity should grow and there are things that as a man you need to correct in yourself. I have no shame in admitting what I am because that is the price I need to pay towards a better self. But every experience must be a teacher and a springboard towards greater wisdom.

So, before embarking on a new occupation I must be patient and diligent in setting the base truths and then proceed to my heart's content.

Oratory of Socrates and Osho...

I've read more of Osho than Socrates but whatever little I've read of the two there seems to be a definite correlation in their ways. I don't see them as chastening influences on their generation. I'm not bothered about whether Socrates' main aim was the realization of virtue nor about Osho's spirituality. Of course, these men are known for these things to wide audience but there's something more to them then just that.

The thing that fascinates me is the oratory of these two men. I've not read Osho as much for the spiritual guidance as for the use of language that he makes. Some might say that I'm picking stones when the greatest jewel is on offer but it's merely a question of perspective. A hungry man won't be tempted by jewels nor a thirsty one by the choicest of foods.

Both these men had a sarcastic touch to their tones and a readiness to declare another man as a lesser which goes against my idea of a wise man. I might be wrong but it's something that I feel hard to digest. Of what use are these things to a wise man? A man content with himself and the world would have peace of mind and a lightness of heart. Sarcasm is born out of disappointment in a proud man, and the need to show other men as lesser from insecurity. A wise man must have crossed these things long before in his path. Or is it possible to be wise with these failings? But if you're wise, then you must know your shortcomings and strive to correct them, rather then persist with them. Which brings me to the question, why was it that these two learned and wise men continued with these things? But this is just my first impression, a little gut feeling which quite possibly might be wrong.

But regardless of whether they were wise or not there are many things that can be learnt from them. Every person regardless of his intelligence or his tendencies has something worthwhile to offer and a wise man learns at every possible oppurtunity. And when it comes to oratory, Socrates and Osho are among the very best that I've had the oppurtunity to acquaint with. How foolish would it be to be a slave of conceptions and dogmas and do not benefit from them in learning this skill that they have?

WL update...

WL underwent a  minor op today. When I met him at night he was still under anesthesia. I got late in getting there and in an hour of my reaching the hospital WL was feeling sleepy. He fell asleep at around 11. I chatted up with WOMS for half an hour or so and then left for home. Hopefully, WL will be discharged in a couple of days and will start his recovery. This place is a little drab without him so the sooner he comes back the better.  I hope things turn for the better in a couple of days. WOMS stayed back in the hospital and would be spending the night there itself. 

I did a good thing today. Finished some long standing business that was becoming a spot of bother for more than a few people. I know I'm on the right track, sometimes things get messy but that's life. I'm very fond of my ways...some people say a little too fond for my own good but that's Ok. I don't like to change them on other's behest. It's better to take it on the chin and move on, if you're making the choices. 

WL is in hospital...

WL got a bad one and the start of it seemed innocuous enough. He had an injection or two and things seemed Ok. I even urged him to go for Pink Panther 2 on Saturday morning but he was less cheerful than normal. I should've guessed then itself. WL never misses on movies.

Me and WOMS went to see him in the hospital and WOMS was his cheeky self. He left for a call a few minutes later and I had a nice chat with WL on the usual stuff. WL was in a bit of pain but cheered up when he saw us, but that was momentary. When WOMS was back we teased WL to the core. He was more than Ok in handling the slack. 

WL was feeling a little bit of pain because of the drip being a little too fast, so he called the nurse to have it reset. WOMS was paying close attention to the apparatus and when she left started fiddling with it. He made some intelligent observations about this drip thing and was eager to play with it a little. We also discussed the dreadful implications of a bubble inside the drip and we tried to put one in WL's drip. WL went ballistic when we tried to touch the drip apparatus. So we sat there with nothing to do. 

No apparatus to play with, TV wasn't showing anything good. And it was getting a little boring when WL told me that some girls called WOMS at 8 yesterday. Apparently, they called to ask the size of a stamp size photograph. WL got his way and it was WOMS turn to take it. So, we discussed the intricacies of stamp size photos and the magnetic field of WOMS, which is way too strong. And after half an hour or so, we agreed that the girls were not at fault in calling WOMS. It was all his fault and he agreed quite gracefully, not that he had a choice. 

The nurse came some time later and for no apparent reason WOMS started giggling. Now the thing with him is that he can't stop once he starts the ride. Imagine the scene, WL on the bed moaning in pain every 3 seconds precisely, and me and WOMS giggling like idiots in front of the nurse. I tried very hard to put up a serious face but WOMS was shaking like a bloody mast in the wind so I couldn't stop myself. The nurse must've felt pretty obnoxious but we didn't know for sure. We weren't looking.So, when she left we roared with laughter and WL watched us in puzzlement but later joined in.

WOMS and I were planning to stay in his room for the night. AC and TV and we could bring our laptops and play AOE the whole night and mess up WL occasionally too. That would've been fun. I told WL that we'd be back after dinner and laptops and if he can move his hand we'll have him play AOE too. But WL pour cold water over our plans and shooed us out. He said he'll sleep without us buggers messing around and will see us tomorrow, if he has to.

Beginning grad...

Schooling was one of the most difficult things in my life. Not so because I was dumb but because I was obstinate to a fault. College was a different experience. There was an altogether different environment, I was doing something which I liked unlike school where I needed to produce a notebook full of answers copied from the book or guides 4 times a year and since I never made a notebook for most subjects, I was often on the receiving end of some exquisite treatment. Old Chemistry teacher would bellow dangerously close to my year telling me I'll amount to nothing and I used to make a very discouraged face though I was smiling smugly not 5 mins later. Because as far as I was concerned he'd just as well go to hell. But to be always on the receiving end of one thing or the other was tiring.  

So, in the first few days I went to college many things changed. I remember sitting in a C class (I'd gone through a bit of C myself so could make the head and tail of it nicely), KS sitting on my left and Ravi on his left. SRK (not the movie star!) was just behind. We were given a not very difficult exercise and Me and SRK immediately went into gear to solve it. KS was sitting there making alien shapes in his notepad and mumbled "Fuck" pretty much out loud. I was mildly surprised but wasn't caught off balance. The instructor was all pretty patronising about it, telling us to think collectively. But KS couldn't make it out without "Fuck"ing at least 4 more times. Needless to say I went along quite well with these three like water on duck's back. And everybody brought a different color to it. 

KS was the loudest; damn it, still is the fucking loudest. The first thing you'd hear when he calls is a nice little greeting that I don't care to elaborate. Ravi was typical Delhi guy. Baadshe...masti.  The fun of "Check karo" while biking was just awesome. SRK was the serious one :). Surprise, surprise. He'd always be upto some criticism. More like dissection. He'd dissect almost everything from a C program to a food recipe to the female instructor (in technical matters, of course). I still remember how he made one of the interns cry who came for a guest lecture. I was pretty much myself and that's the mark of a friendship. It's a beautiful experience just to be. We never pretended.

Fifa...

RTR threw a challenge to score 5 past in worldclass...I said OK. No problemo. I think I scored 4 but next game messed the keeper real bad. Scored 11 past him in worldclass and the keeper was shitting a brick everytime I went on a counter.

But it's off for a while now. I don't see what to play for now. Switched to Mafia and this game is bloody fucking slooow...I feel old already; when I put my hands on a new game, I'm awfully slow off the blocks. Geez, after CS, adventure and theme games feel like slow deaths. 

WOMS keep playing AOE and asks me occasionally, whether I'd play but it feels like too much work. And what's the point of a game if it looks like work?

Crossroads...

It is said that a man carries his sins beyond his body, beyond a life, across several destinies...I wonder if it's true. One of the most difficult things for a man is to live with himself. When you live with yourself you witness the pure chaos that is running inside. The darkness that roams inside. Mankind has the most organized of societies because he can't live with himself. It'll kill him. When occasionally he's forced to turn inside he sees such pure endless labyrinth that it makes him scared. Turning out is the process of forgetting. Forgetting that there's an abyss that's waiting for you inside and you're standing right on the edge. A constant occupation is required to stay on the edge. But there are times when you're forced to look inside when the answers are not outside. And you must face your personal demons, fight for answers and win. A time which decides what you are and who you are. 

But it begs the questions why is it that man carries these demons inside him? When a child is born, is he born with this darkness which spreads with age or is it something that he acquires after he gains form? If one's born with it than there's no choice. You can't prevent it. All you can do is to prepare yourself for the confrontation. Then life is merely a battlefield which requires you to survive...against those who are outside and that which is inside. Then there's little music in life. And he who devised it must have been a Sadist. I sometimes wonder if that's how life should be. If it's not how it should be then how should it be? Why is it that every life is born with a seed of darkness and that every life must fight regardless of its will. But the most disturbing thing is that you're not even told what awaits you. When you're busy earning your bread for the day suddenly you realize the darkness that is facing you and it throws you a little off balance. You don't know what to do about it. As a young man you're are prepared to face a lot of things you'll encounter in this world but what do you do when your own heart stands against you? What do you do then? 

One has no way of knowing which way to take. There are crossroads that demand a choice, and sometimes a choice takes you on a route that hurls you so far from where you'd want to be that all that remains is a memory. Life is a strict one-way. Once a road is taken there's no way to go back to the same crossroad again. Maybe, a cruel fate might take you to the same crossroad in your life but everytime you stand there's something new to lose. Sometimes, life's a little like that. Nothing more than deciding what to lose next. And no matter how long you'd want to stand at this crossroad, time does not allow you that freedom, it drags you by the hair and the first couple of times you feel desolate, destitute. But after a little while when you catch on the game you realize that everytime there's a crossroad you must lose onething or the other and must choose. It's an education in ruthlessness. 

Now, the problem is not that it's a difficult game. On the other hand it's the simplest thing to do. Everybody does it, according to his circumstances, his intelligence, his morals. There are many formulas that can be applied. The most intelligent and superior minds have tussled with how to solve this dilemma. They have come up with numerous theories. There's a lot to buy in the shop. The fashion keep on changing and so does the formulas. There are times when morality is in hot demand and in those times you choose on morality. You lose then too but there's a satisfaction to be enjoyed. People come up to you and tell you that you did a great deed. It's a sacrifice and you'll be blessed for it. Other times when morality is passe then you go for intelligence and people claim how clever you're. Regardless of the tool you use to make that choice you always lose something. But losing with something in fashion lessens the pain somewhat. It's food for the ego. You're noble or smart or shrewd...whatever shit you want to be. 

And the really surprising thing is that you don't question the reason why you need to choose. You don't say I don't want to make a choice between this and that. What if I want both this and that? What if I don't want to lose? What if you really worked hard enough on it maybe there's a way that you don't need to lose either? But you're afraid to do it. You don't want to break the chain and stand out. Years of conditioning makes you resistant to imagination. If everybody else is losing then you must too. What a choas it'll create if you win, what jealousy, what hatred you'd incur if you're able to sidestep this crossroad!!! But that's the challenge; can you go against the grain and against your conditioning and against everything but your heart, not in choosing one over the other but looking for something that is the synthesis of both. 

I want a pony...

I'm not a style guru and I've never been the one to fawn over fashion trends either, but I do like to have a distinct presence. I hope I don't come across as boastful, not that I give a shit. So all this pony stuff started with the football tournament in college. I wasn't planning to go but Boondock and Anshu Ji swung it around and persuaded me to go. I guess I missed playing an awful lot and there was a lot of steam building in from my inactivity and other stuff. So, it didn't take much to turn me around and make me go. It's football, bloody hell.

So, I was sitting in Comesum at the Nagpur station when Boondock arrived with his 6 inch pony and looking like the true rolling stone that he is. And I can positively say that was when I thought it's about time I should commit to another of my fancies. I've thought about it a couple of times but my hair just don't get the idea of staying straight when they get long. They start flying in all directions and I look like Moses about to part the sea.

So, I've passed this pony thing over for quite a number of times. Of course, if my family sees it they'll have some interesting things to say about it too, for sure. Ma would have a field day and Pa would give me a ridiculing smile that only he can give that makes me feel very humble indeed. Sis would rub her hands with glee and go berserk. Friends would start rolling on the floor and all in all a it'd be a very pleasant experience for everybody but me. So, in a way it's public service that I'm doing. Poeple always complain that I don't give them enough bait for leg-pulling. Ohhh, they'll love it.

But seriously, Boondock looks good with the pony and his black goggles. Almost a temptation for the Mumbai girls, but then Boondock always looks good pony or no pony. The case with me is quite different. I'm already mirror-cracking material; with a pony I'd be the scary thing out of "The Ring". And to manage the locks...geez. Nightmare. I'd look like a german hippie alm collector. Hmm...Well, if it's a german hippie, then so be it. I hope I can go ahead with this, because years of conditioning makes me run to the barber the moment my hair grow longer than 3 inches. Let's see...

Dream a little...

I've always believed in the possibility of things...

There's a fascinating difference between an optimist and a practical man. You see optimism and practicality are almost the opposites of each other. A completely practical person is a perfect example of a pessimist. Such a man is free of the flights of fancy. He has no time for dreams, he is the guiding light to all those fools who are still in the grip of childish illusions, who believe that if you try hard enough things are possible, that even if it's never been done before it doesn't matter, you can still do it, that you can be one of those persons who can reach out and change what is around them. 

An eminently practical person has no such problems to face. He's like a rat on a wheel. He knows that he needs to run on that wheel and that's all he's here for. That's practicality for you. He thinks about the food that he'll get at the end of the day after all that running. He thinks about the comfort of routine, the foreknowledge of what is the shape of the time that is coming. He'll make sure that this time doesn't change anything inside or outside. He ensures that when tomorrow comes he has the same wheel to run on. But, he doesn't bother about the why. He doesn't ask what if. These questions are a disease that plagues only a selected few. The unfortunate, the lepers. The dreamers, who want to know what's beyond the wheel. Who ask why do I run on the same wheel over and over again.

Asking questions is the most foolish thing that you can do. Don't be mislead by all those books that you read as a child. There's a reason adults don't need them anymore; because all those words, all those messages, all that morality has no place in the world of grown ups. The sign of intelligence is to stick to the beaten path. You move on a path that's tread not by thousands but by millions. The more crowded the path the more intelligent it makes a man. It's a certified highway. The best road that you can take; that you're expected to take. Even if there's a traffic jam, you don't deviate from it. You don't say let's try that sideroad, the small byway. Because if you're taking a new road it shows that you're questioning the existing one. And questioning is strictly prohibited in an intelligent world. Why should you ask? Do you think you're any smarter than the millions before???

Fortunately or unfortunately, intelligence is something which adds up with numbers. The intelligence of a million will always be superior to the intelligence of one man. Or so they want you to believe. Maybe it's true too. But imagination is something which is not propotional to the number of applicants. If that would've been the case then China and India would be superpowers. A million people don't make one Einstein.

This is why I disregard the so called intelligence and practicality so scrupulously. I am no mouse on the wheel, thank you very much. I go where I please and do what I please. But, there's a tradeoff. Nobody likes the rat who walks away. Who'd run the wheel then? That's why "mature", "intelligent" and "practical" people always mock imagination. To them it's just a tool that they can use once in a while but the world can't run on imagination is it? It's like art, beautiful but dispensible. And if the kings and dictators of bygone eras would've been more practical then the world would be without art. But then that's a complete contradiction isn't it! A practical man can't be a king although a king might use practicality from time to time. To be a king you need to believe that there's life beyond the ordinary that there's something more that you can make of your life. And this belief is scarce in an intelligent man. 

To dream is to envision and to follow it is to believe. The world has a very poor memory. It remembers only those who dream. How very cruel?! It's run by those intelligent, no-nonsense folks but it doesn't remember them. It doesn't bother with them. History is the memory of this world and you won't find the name of any tom, dick or harry in history. History keeps track of dreams and dreamers, er.. should I say successful dreamers. 

It's a gamble, you see. You could be a rat and run the wheel and live a fairly comfortable life; with the knowledge that you're an ordinary intelligent man who lived his life more or less like everybody around.  Or you could dream, you could believe and you could leave the wheel. There's a lot of stick that must be taken. You are no longer considered as intelligent, "level-headed". It's a beautiful term - "level-headed", it says you have as good a head as the other person. It's a stamp of approval. you're as big an idiot as the rest so you are passed. 

But the most beautiful thing life gives you is the choice...to be a dreamer or to be level-headed. Mind you, to dream does not mean to achieve but merely to believe. There are no guarantees in this game. If you want guarantees then stick with the wheel. To dream is to gamble. It's a Russian Roulette. Only you bet yourself on the roll of a dice. Destiny decides who wins and who loses but you control what you believe and what you dream. Nobody takes away the dream or your belief. That's the only freedom in this world. To dream and to believe. The rest is all intelligence...the language of idiots.