Anshul Bhatia

Nomad

2011-08-11T11:20:00.000+05:30

The air is filled with a wide spread feeling of joy and relief because of the long weekend. Plans for long overdue reunions and trips home to lands far away are being materialized.

The air is reeking of joy and relief at the idea of a long weekend.

The feeling of being a nomad is back and it’s stronger than it ever was. Bangalore is brilliant. Really. If at all I could see myself living in any city other than Mumbai, it would be Bangalore. But Mumbai shall always be home. But what makes it home, still? And empty house the keys to which are safely stored in the cupboard of my studio apartment here? True, Mumbai is the home to some of my oldest and best friends; yet, suddenly it feels a little wrong to call it home since my folks moved base to Singapore. Home is where you live with family.

So what is home for me? Singapore is most certainly not home. I have never lived there and it shall always be a holiday destination for me. But still, that’s where my family is.

And there you have it, I have no home.

I’m just the person who hops from one destination to another, bound to it by corporate commitments and moves on to another, just like how I will in about 6 weeks from now.

Rejoice, the long weekend is here.

Ocean/Moon

2011-04-25T22:21:00.003+05:30

They walked side by side along the busy street. They could have been any two random people walking down home on a friday night.

Only; they weren’t.

Dinner was rushed. He made her wait for twenty minutes at the hotel. Last minute meeting. There wasn’t anything much to talk about anyway. Her day hadn’t been a blockbuster either.

He gazed up into the cloudless sky to find a spotted pale white balloon there. The moon always had some power over his mood.

“Lets go, just you and me.”

“Where?”

“Let’s just leave all this behind. I’ll find us a nice little spot on the moon and we could live there. Just you and me. Happy. Then I could look at the earth and finally find out what is more beautiful; the oceans or your eyes.”

She hit his arm. The affection negated the action.

“How do you expect me to live with no air, idiot?”

They kept walking. They weren't just any two people on the street anymore.

Strung Out

2011-03-06T04:09:00.001+05:30

Under the light of Gods from a generation long past, he decided to walk down their path of glory at the age of seventeen. He was driven enough to be a bigger musician than he knew possible.

Success never came to him. He didn't have the blessings of his Gods, he believed.

And then life happened.

It's almost poetic how one particular event or object can be symbolic of diagonally opposite entities. Cruel, almost mocking; but poetic - yes. The same shiny stairway leading to a subway station could be for one, the most beautiful stopover of your life yet only a few hours later, it could be a reminder of what could have been your biggest mistake; coming out. How empty padded seats in the tube could be a strange pointer of things getting better; on the other hand they could stand for a damage irreparable. The same watch clocks the minutes of pandemonium before the storm and also the calm right after it. A unit of time is just a unit of time, whether spent in the glory of life or the darkness of death.

How at one given moment, you are everything and at the other, nothing.

Sweet the sin, bitter the taste in my mouth.
I see seven towers, but I only see one way out.
You gotta cry without weeping, talk without speaking
Scream without raising your voice.
You know I took the poison, from the poison stream
Then I floated out of here, singing
Ah la la la de day
Ah la la la de day.

Everything is placed on a continuum. Thing is, there will be one particular point that divides this continuum into two definitive sections that have gradually emerged from a common source; yet, in principle; are quite opposite.

Seems like a sick game of coin tossing. Life doesn't give you a two-headed coin and the coin tosser may have a major score to settle, for all you know. Sorry Harvey Dent, you were just as clueless as anyone else. There was a force much bigger than you and your biased little medallion calling the shots.

Eleven years down the line, his pictures now hang on walls of seventeen year old boys. He sits at an event, aloof, alone, waiting for an interview that he has to give, involuntarily.

"Musicians often quote that what drives their music is a lot of anger. Do you agree?"

"Yes."

"So what about this world makes you really angry that has been your secret?"

"I have long come to realize that the world shall be just as it has been without me. I may influence a small insignificant part of it to act differently for a while, but I can in no way change it. With that realization, nothing about the world angers me."

"So what does anger you?"

"What I have let myself do. What I have allowed to happen."

He didn't get the blessings of his Gods. Only teachings from life.

Fortress

2011-02-13T00:00:00.002+05:30

If there's anything precious in this world, it deserves to be protected. But how does one protect it from the prying eyes of the world? The solution could be in keeping it's existence a secret. Even if it means keeping the 'precious' in dark. Nothing can be trusted afterall.

Create a fortress, keep the secret inside it and guard it with all your might. It's like a princess that needs to be protected from everything and you are the solitary knight. It might lead you to insanity, but isn't a little insanity worth the princess? She's hidden now - safe.

The Lord giveth, the world wisheth it away. The Lord taketh it back.

What now? What remains is an empty fortress with no princess to protect. But the realization is bound to hit home, that you were never really meant to be a knight. You were one only because of the princess.

Breathe free. There is nothing to hide, nothing to protect. Life is yours to live. Let loose of everything that holds you back. People can't carry fortresses on their backs. Move ahead. Grab hold of life. The world is waiting.

Empower yourself, moonchild.

Tremors without borders

2011-01-19T23:16:00.001+05:30

Random tweet from A at about 2ish am yesterday made me tense, although it was in light homour about Delhiites tweetingand updating FB about an earthquake. My thoughts as a reflex drifted towards my sister and her well being and to inquire about the scale of the earthquake. Within the next five minutes, I knew that my sis was fine and that she felt mild tremors for a few seconds. I also learned that the epicenter of the quake was west Pakistan and the magnitude was a whopping 7.4 on the Richter scale.

The news flushed me with mixed feelings and within seconds I felt ashamed of myself for the same. Fact was that a major calamity had struck and there can be no scope of a positive side to any such event where scores of lives can be lost.

The problem lies in the fact that we have been force fed all our lives; an animosity for the neighbour, that forget to acknowledge the basic fact that binds us all together and just drink it down in blind faith. The fact being that we are all humans; a commonality the evidence of which we carry in our very bodies and we can not rid ourselves off it no matter what. Funny how we can all revel in the glory of every individual being unique and forget that every individual is just as important.

The point of uniqueness, is it just a farce that we so desperately need to see fulfilled that we ourselves give birth to scores of stereotypes? All Americans are stupid, all Gujjus are miserly business, all Punjabis are loud, every girl who smokes is a whore, every bearded guy on the planet is a suicide bomber. Where do all these spring from? The worst part is that these linger on in the subconscious. Hence, by default every Pakistani is a foe to every Indian and vice versa. Why does everything have to be about extremes? There exists a state between friends and foes. How about co-existence and acceptance, for example? I hope I live to see the day where the country matures enough to accept that the entire population of a country can not practically be against us. Infact I refuse to believe that it is even a sizable proportion. A majority of population can't be bothered by issues other than finding ways to feed their family with honour. I doubt living with anger towards a country is high on their agenda.

My heart goes out to everyone who lost family and friends and I hope and pray that God graces them with strength to get back up on their feet.

Pizza Philosophies and World Economies

2011-01-16T23:56:00.000+05:30

They say that a man is nothing but the experiences he has had. I concur. Infact, I add, a man is nothing but the experiences he has had and the conclusions he draws from them. (Do I get a slow clap for this statement which I am sure after little research will prove to be not original?)

Well, today I had an experience which shall well shape the individual I shall be for the rest of my life. (I am pretty much the guy I will be for the rest of my life, but I had to supplement my claim with a powerful sentence.) Thank you Domino's. I prefer Garcia's, Smoking Joe's, Papa Joe's, Pizza Hut and even the local pizza place I had in Vashi about decade back. But alas, we only get Domino's stalls in Kharagpur during events. Yes, I had pizza for dinner today. Now don't go feeling too happy for me, thinking that I finally got food in here. The guys offered a plain chicken or a plain veg pizza. That's it. Well, they even have a cheese burst option here, but after running four kilometers less than two hours back, that option was easily null and void.

So you must be thinking, what's the point? I went through the trouble of going all the way to Vikramshila (oh yeah, the stall was at Vikramshila and that too not above the ramp, but behind the building this time. Bad, real bad) for a pizza and I am still complaining? The point is, this laughable excuse of a pizza joint is a regular feature during events in IIT. And it attracts crowds like fur coats do PETA. And I haven't even begun talking about the price of the 10 inch pizza on offer. 330 bucks for a 10 inch pizza? Really? That too a basic, single topping, starved for cheese pizza? Now, such an offering would hold no scope of survival in a city. Yet, in Kharagpur, it sells like hot...well, pizzas; and delicious ones at that. Ah, such a fallacy; such a contradiction and oh; the irony.

The problem, I trace back to lack of choice. People make do with what is on offer - bad expensive pizza. Imagine had there been a Pizza Hut stall at the venue too. (All people in Kharagpur reading this, get a hold over yourself. Eventually you will move out and get food. And wipe the drool off your face.) In such a scenario, every individual would, in the worst case, get an option between two bad expensive pizzas. But that's where the individual comes in. He decides for himself. Ofcourse, you may say that to buy or not to by is also an individual choice, but that only means you have not spent time in Kharagpur and have no idea what you are speaking of, so quit embarrassing yourself; for your own sake, ok? Good boy!

In a better situation, the competition would lead to lower prices, more options on the menu and the oh-so-needed better quality. I can't see how that is a bad thing! It's a GREAT thing! Now because I am writing this on a full tummy, I can easily take my mind off food and try to broaden the perspective of my observation - Socialism. How is socialism ever going to be good? Anything that causes pizzas to become bad and eventually lead to me being sick of it had GOT to be wrong. If I want to buy a large pizza with extra cheese and more than one topping (trying hard to not drift into food oblivion) then I should be able to. And the pizza place better offer me the choice to. Socialism, now that comes in way of my pizza dreams.

On a more serious note, I am of the opinion that socialism should best stay in history books. From what I can see, socialism can not return for a long long time to come, unless we have to abandon the planet and move base to a new rock with sparse resources and no management. After all, don't we all want our perfect pizza, just the right pair of jeans, the right shoes, the best car? And what gives birth to these wants is what is the very core of being human. We want what we want and we keep wanting. We better get it, else we'd be one group of depressed species.

Resurrect

2010-12-27T23:54:00.000+05:30

I am at peace, fully aware of the calm around me. I had finally reached the destination I intended to reach for the past twenty four years. I could feel the presence of others near me - unmoving, content, peaceful. I like what they have done to this little place I will now call mine. Frilly curtains are almost a surprise. Not like I can expect a view behind them, but it is a nice touch. Perhaps they remembered how much I loved gazing out of windows; into the sky. None of the others here would have any curtains, I am sure. It was very thoughtful of them.

It is a nice coffin.

But how did I end up here? Not like it even matters. It is so peaceful. But I can’t remember how died. Did I really die? It can’t be so. Why are the curtains moving? I don’t think the ceiling is supposed to be moving towards me. Make it stop! I can’t move. Get me out of here! I cant seem to breathe anymore. I am falling into nothingness.

Black.

My head is spinning; my t-shirt marked with strings of sweat. I have to move out. My legs move with a mind of their own to the side, while I pull the curtains away that open into the long wide passage. I can breathe; finally. My destination is finally here. After a nine hour delay, my train has finally stopped at the platform.

Welcome to Mumbai. Welcome home.

Dreamer

2010-12-12T19:55:00.001+05:30

I don't need anyone to make me realise that I am a dreamer. I indulge. Over-indulge even. But I am proud to be able to want more. Isn't this what keeps life clicking? Makes it more interesting? I think people who forget to dream have killed a very huge part of their human nature.

I can just feel my dreams out there. Like I can just reach out to them an grab hold of them. But seldom is it the reality. What's the use if you can't pine for a dream to come true? If you don't have to wait. You must be able to earn the dream. Some dreams are more pricey than the others, yes.

But sadly, some dreams are exclusive. They require you to be different in some way; to be more than you are; or just to be in a different place. And these may not wait for you. Sadly, dreams can be exclusive but not expendable. While the dreamy state of almost making the dream come alive may spread warmth and hope and strength; the reality that speaks of a stark contradiction breaks you.

I am more than I am. Therefore I dream.

After all theres just the two of us
And here we are still fighting for our lives
Watching all of history repeat itself, time after time

Im just a dreamer, I dream my life away
Im just a dreamer, who dreams of better days

Winter

2010-11-14T17:53:00.000+05:30

It has stretched far too long. The end is near. I can smell it in the air now. It's been a long time coming - the time when everything wild turns to sweet scent. How can one not smell the joy in the air?

Change is the only constant.

Perhaps one of the very few aspects of the east that is in agreement with me. Or is it just the other way around. I do not need to know. It's easy. Solitude is but just expected. Welcome even. Peace.

Times are a-changing.

Symbolic of times to come? I certainly hope so. Here I am, welcoming this with an open heart, mind; as the soul engulfs the possibilities and the prospects with serene satisfaction.

Breathe. It's time to be brilliant all over again. The sabbatical is long over.

Winter's coming.

PS: No song, but an instrumental from what I can claim to be my favourite classical composer, from whatever little classical music I have heard. This is (quite aptly too) - Winter (Four Seasons) by Vivaldi.

Despair

2010-08-30T22:59:00.000+05:30

The clinking of coins in my trouser had been getting fainter since the last couple of weeks. Until last year, work was good and steady. But competition wouldn't leave even leave a poor man alone.

I had customers. But now I seem to think about the loyalty they showed towards me. What use if loyalty when it disappears in the face of competition?

They were always good to me. I always treated them secondary just to Goddess Durga, who's picture hung from my humble place of work. I would have been, after all, on the streets, had it not been for anyone of them. The Goddess has blessed me with a daughter and helped me find a suitable match for her. She had also blessed me with people who helped me out with the expenses in whatever little way they could.

I had all kinds of customers. The rude ones, the indifferent one, the happy ones, the joyful ones. I would always greet them with a hearty smile and it was always accompanied by a sense of gratitude that I felt toward them. But there was one of them who treated me with respect. It was rare to find that in my line of work. I never failed to wave out to him even if he'd be headed elsewhere. There was a part of me that believed that he would always be a loyal customer.

But one fateful day, I saw him visit the competition. My heart sank.

The next day, as I was exiting the office, I saw his face, looking straight at mine, breaking into a smile. The memory of him betraying me immediately returned to me memory. I looked right through him, expressionless and walked past him.

Entropy

2010-08-14T14:29:00.001+05:30

I see the pebble break the calm, almost steel-like surface of water and from the point of impact, the countless series of what an emotionless, almost mechanical physicist would merely describe an alternating series of crests and troughs. It's strangely beautiful though. And sometimes disturbing, the repercussions of a single mundane action...

My laundry basket is almost full again. It seems only two days since I washed clothes. That batch is still hanging on the numerous clothes lines I took the pains to have. It's almost been a week. Time is running. Not sure if it is running out though. It just seems, slower, from my frame of reference.

Perhaps the east does not agree with me. I can't put down my finger upon any other valid, scientific explanation. Not like this one here is rooted in science. But atleast it is a sane one. It exudes the aura of an unknown, yet believable phenomena that would at max attract a few sneers but no challenges. It is a peaceful excuse. Let me indulge.

My cape still blowing majestically in the wind. But he caught me unawares. I turn around to see him bending over what seems to be a lead trunk. Before I can react, it is open and the faint green glow of it seizes me. I am, but just a man. Or am I not?

My mind drifts away to those close to my heart. Few are in a radiant happy state that I would associate with ignorance. Alas, intelligence is not analogous to happiness. There's physical pain, illness, then there's emotional pain, naivety, complexes. Am I strong enough? Perhaps. Or not. The day of judgement shall tell. Just keep playing the part till then. Be honest. Always. Not like that's ever been a problem. For me. It's the by-products that are problematic, methinks. Problem is of a free mind. It's never sure, always confused and forever in a state of denial and illusion of correctness. Alas, the paradox. In every sort of a pun scenario.

Look what we have done. We have handed them something they are not ready to use. And see what they did with it. They have erected walls and created boundaries. More so in their minds and hearts. We must find a way to start over.

I guess the east does not agree with me. I think Murphy stays here.

Single

2010-08-06T20:11:00.000+05:30

I feel like I can breathe again. I don't feel claustrophobic anymore and I sure am still alive. After surviving the ordeal for one whole year, I am finally free. Ladies and gentlemen, I - Anshul Bhatia, am now the sole occupant of E-107, JCB Hall of Residence, Scholars' Avenue, Indian Institute of Technology Kharagpur. Where's the drum roll when I need one?

On a serious note, this isn't a huge accomplishment or development (but a welcome one for sure) but it's relieving for sure. And I don't think the problem was because of the previous co-inhabitant majorly, it was just pretty uncomfortable. So dear friends, a list (because I love lists) about what's new in the same room!

1) ONE bed!

2) One table.

3) Bonus: A chair that couples with the table and completes the latter's function!

4) Some space to walk

5) A door to the standing (or cloth hanging) balcony that finally opens freely.

Just incase you didn't get a clear picture, here's a pic of my room now. :D

It's not much, but it's all I have for the next year and it is sufficient. The step up is also a reminder of greater things to come in life. Apart from this positive note, I will end with a song. This one is Just Looking by Stereophonics and a special mention of Aksha who introduced me to this song.

PS: Just a simple plain post, this one. Short and sweet. I want to write more, so I guess you can expect me to return to my element in print soon. Till then, then. Later.

Just Looking - Stereophonics

There's things I want,
There's things I think I want,
There's things I have,
There's things I wanna have,
Do I want the dreams?
The ones were forced to see?

Do I want the perfect wife?
The word perfect, ain't quite right
Shopping every day, take it back the next break,
They say the more you fly,
The more you risk your life

I'm just looking,
I'm not buying,
I'm just looking,
Keeps me smiling

A house I've seen,
Another coulda' been,
You drenched my head,
And said what I said,
You said that life is what you make of it,
Yet most of us just fake

I'm just looking,
I'm not buying,
I'm just looking,
Keeps me smiling

I'm just looking,
I'm not buying,
ooh, I'm just looking,
Keeps me trying

I'm just looking,
I'm not buying,
ooh, I'm just looking,
Keeps me smiling

There's things I want,
There's things I think I want,
There's things I have,
There's things I wanna have,
They say the more you fly,
The more you risk your life
Well I'm just looking,
I'm not buying,
I'm just looking,
Keeps me smiling

Future Imperfect

2010-07-22T13:54:00.000+05:30

Anyone who has been doing the mistake of following my blog would know that I am here after a very long time. Actually, even a first time visitor will comprehend the fact by seeing that this post is a good four months since my last. So I will not say anything like,"Wow, I am returning after a real long time guys!" Or something else like "Man, it feels good to be back." Why? For the following reasons:

1) I am not blonde

2) I don't think any of the readers of this are either

3) I like to confuse blondes, so if you are, the remedy to cure the confusion is to stand on your head, do exactly 37 bicycle turns with your feet in this position, run 29 circles backwards in your present room, close your computer and take a nap. There after, you shall remember nothing of this.

4) Classification 'Blonde' was more figurative than physical. I wouldn't want Julie Delpi and Julia Stiles to go away, you see. (Actually, even Cameron Diaz now, I think.)

5) I don't like drama. Only eccentricity.

6) I am sure I have opened some other post like that. I am unique, just like all my posts.

7) I like like lists. Just like this one.

So to save all the trouble, lets just all agree that I am a very busy guy and there are a lot of things/activities demanding my time. Sorry, this sentence shall not be followed by my favourite ':P' smilie as there is more than just an iota of truth to it, so yeah, I am pretty busy for a normal 24 year old guy. A major time slot just opened up on my calender. Not that I like it, but it has. And I need an outlet to express an event that I want to share with anyone who gives even half a rat's ass.

Towards the later half of the semester, I stood for IIT Kharagour's Gymkhana elections for the post of Literary Secretary and surprise surprise, I won. Still don't know how or why, but I did. I guess people just generally love me. Its a scary thing to know, but also in a way nice. I'd rather be generally loved than hated. Anyway moving on (kick me if I go tangent speaking again, ok? Sorry, you can't) yesterday was the first thing I was supposed to do as being a Gymkhana member. I had to go to the Kharagpur Railway Station (that houses the longest platform in the world - 1072.x m long *symphonic triumphant music plays*) to set up a desk for the benefit of the BTech freshers joining in, to provide transport facilities to them, their parents, their luggage and finally to answer any questions they may have, which they all did, by the truckloads.

During the day, I interacted with all typed of students and more so, their parents. The humble, the not so humble, the scared - for their kids, some for their themselves even, strangely; the impatient, the ones that regarded their presence as a personal favor to me, the ones that considered my presence as a personal favor to them et al. And the most difficult types, the ones with an extra topping of questions.

But no matter what was the course of events yesterday, no matter how they behaved, I had no right to judge them. They were here for something much bigger than those few minutes of interaction with me. While I sensed a feeling of pride in every parent, I also sensed a feeling of uncertainty and helplessness. I would like to believe that I did my part to make them feel just about a little better. It is indeed the smaller things that matter and a little humility from my side is the least I could do. And it felt rewarding, fulfilling even, if I may, just to receive a genuine thanks from people. And people don't really have to word it out. Many people left giving me their best wishes, some trusting me enough to look after their children and some even giving me their blessings. Yesterday was the day where I say what I like to believe is the core of the human spirit and it revived my hope in it. I am not ready to believe that this is a losing battle and that goodness is a rarity. I think it is only afraid today, to show itself, of fear of non-reciprocation. Yet, it is there.

I don't know what I will change after this experience or what I plan to do new in light of this experience, but it was something I just can not contain any more. I think my sharing this is in its own a method of doing something. I hope readers of this can see from my eyes.

As a tradition of this blog, I will end with a song. This some I have carried with me since months, but I heard it for the first time yesterday. It is one of those songs that just caught my attention and it's still not ready to let go yet. Been listening to this on loop since yesterday. Beauty of this song is what you take out of it. Let me know how YOU interpret it. This is 'Parachute' - Guster

Parachute

There we stand about to fly
Peeking down over land
Parachute behind
What was that moment for which we live?
Without a parachute about to dive
I find myself convincing
Blindly falling faster
How easy
Know the place I’m leaving
And the rest just is gone
Oh the adoration
But how much strength does it take
For exploration
For split decision
Or are you stronger to remain
I find myself convincing
Blindly falling faster
How easy
Know the place I’m leaving
And the rest is just gone
It crept up on me
Ignored all my pleas
Begging to leave
No justice to name me
Fell out of the sky
Cease it to be
Without a reply
Gravity fails me
And when I awoke
I knew what was real
Hope to convince you
Lies they all torture me
Opened the door
Knew what was me
I finally realized
Parachute over me

Shopping in Kharagpur

2010-03-14T16:08:00.000+05:30

The following post is in one way a salute to all men who get the opportunity to shop alone and the style of their shopping. Also, it is homage to every man who has been tagged along a shopping spree, involuntarily. Amen

I have been living on my own now, for the last six months or so. It's a different world altogether. Mundane and previously unimportant, almost non-existent to one's views, start taking a major portion of one's virtual daily schedule. Things like washing, cleaning, et al...

I had been putting off replenishing my supplies for a while now, but given the fact that yesterday was a saturday, it seemed pretty apt that I finally get the wretched deed done. I tried using the piercing sunlight as an alibi to put off the trip to Big Bazaar, but I needed soap. You see, I bathe. And it becomes quite futile to, without soap.

Anyway, getting on, over the course of my stay in Kharagpur, I have grown increasingly suspicious of anything sold inside (or even outside, for that matter) the IIT campus. So I make it a point to purchase my supplies from Big Bazaar. Mind you, I hate Bog Bazaars and I would willingly never step foot in any of them for the rest of my life, but also, life doesn't function that way. Now this Big Bazaar is a good 30-40 minute cycle ride away from the IIT campus. I prefer cycling there to taking a rickshaw. It is perhaps just me, but the very idea of cycle rickshaws seems horrendous to me and I see it as nothing short of slavery. I know there are other perfect counter views to this, but I still can't be convinced. So I cycle.

So yesterday, I embarked upon my journey with earphones in place, like always. But I felt like some soft music yesterday for a change. It was great listening to so much Coldplay amongst other songs that I had almost forgotten.

Anyhow, follow the entire time structure of my trip, as mentioned below.

Campus to BB 25 minutes (I pedal fast :P )

Shopping in BB 15 minutes (including the check out counter)

BB to Campus 25 minutes

An hour and five minutes for fifteen minutes of shopping? Is it worth? Well, I say, yes my fellow humans, it is. The answer is because I knew exactly what I had to buy and bought exactly that. I didn't spend time browsing sections that would be full of crap, I did not get distracted or lured by products I did not know existed and I did not stop to compare everything on my list with every other option available.

Men, when left to their own are dangerously efficient shoppers. Booyah!

I will end this post not with a song, but with a poem today. Very unlike me, but I happen to love this poem. It's from Before Sunrise - one of my favorite movies. I had an hour and a half free today and I watched it again for what could possibly have been the 27th time I did. And this poem never fails to amaze me. This is Delusion Angel by David Jewell.

Delusion Angel

Daydream delusion,
limousine eyelash,
oh, baby with your pretty face,
drop a tear in my wineglass,
look at those big eyes,
see what you mean to me,
sweet cakes and milkshakes,
I am a delusion angel,
I am a fantasy parade,
I want you to know what I think,
dont want you to guess anymore,
you have no idea where I came from,
we have no idea where we're going,
launched in life,
like branches in the river,
flowing downstream,
caught in the current,
I'll carry you, you'll carry me,
that's how it could be,
don't you know me?
don't you know me by now?

The clock and the coffee mug

2010-01-31T18:43:00.000+05:30

The clock reads 2.53 am. I am still up. Wide awake and staring at the time, indifference marking my attitude. I drift into a time a few years ago. I am still in the same room. I see the same clock. It reads 2.53 am. Only now, I am not indifferent. I have a half filled mug of coffee in my hand. But I can't indulge in coffee. It's presence is merely to evade sleep. I get back to the pile of books on my desk. Being a B school student is not a cake walk. Late nights are a regular feature. Nights get unnaturally longer in times of examinations. The desk has a few opened reference books and a few other coffee mugs, only they are all empty. I have been trying hard to keep from sleeping, somehow, it isn't working well...

Back in the present, there are no coffee mugs. I think I will go get myself a nice hot mug of coffee. But feel no determination to move. I have no books here anymore. My MBA degree in it's golden frame hangs proudly from the wall. No more books. No more exams. No more coffee. But sleep has finally evaded me. Credit to insomnia.

The past four months

2009-12-14T22:00:00.000+05:30

It has been almost four long months since I have posted anything here. A lot has changed since. It calls for some updates. And this post, full of just that!

I came to IIT Kharagpur thinking I know what I want to do. Four months down and all I know is what I DO NOT want to do. Trust me, this is a better state.
Watching the clear sky with the moon and stars in utter clarity have become one of my favorite activities at night.
Having said that, I do NOT approve of the night starting at 5:30 pm.
Neither do I approve of sunlight at 5:30 am.
There have been times where I have gotten ready for a class in 15 minutes flat. I am surprised at the human capabilities to meet deadlines.
After driving for four year continuously, I am now a proud owner of my first bicycle. Yes, bicycle.
Its a smart BLACK one, with a small yellow flames graphic. I hate it when people call my cycle, ‘The yellow cycle.’
It’s not yellow, its BLACK.
I cried for the first time since my sister’s marriage in 2008 during this period. Much of it was in dark corners all alone. There has not been a single day that I didn’t think about how things would have been different if Shuaib’s birthday celebrations were postponed to the daytime.
I have gotten to spend time with drunks on a number of occasions in the past four months. They happen to be my hall mates!
It’s fun to see them drunk! It’s amazing to make contact while their split personality takes over whilst in its element!
I have never gotten drunk, not even in the past four months.
I think it’s rather the losing control that keeps me from it, than the drinking itself.
I have gotten a bit more used to cigarette smoke. I still hate it though.
I think management is gas. No wait, I know it is.
I have woken up on multiple occasions thinking, “What am I doing here?” and on others, thinking that this is the best thing that could ever happen to me.
I have never thought much about being single and it never bothered me, but suddenly everyone around me is committed and even wondering why is it that I am not. It is kinda screwing up with my head. :s
I am slowly moving from metal to more of main stream rock, even soft rock, if you may call it. I can relate to it much more. Anger, hatred, animosity and frustrations to the levels portrayed in metal are all alien to me. I only love metal for the music and my want to be a better guitarist attracts me to the technical playing in metal.
I guess that is also a reason why I am better guitarist for rock than for metal. Reinforcing my ‘Feel’ theory behind playing music.
Oh, I got to be on stage in IIT too! And I am getting a medal for it too! Add to that an invitation to join the IIT Kharagpur band!
After waiting for two months and resisting resorting to piracy, I bought Megadeth’s new album Endgame when I returned home. I was quite frankly disappointed. I don’t know what all the fuss about Endgame is, what with all the comparisons with Rust in Peace. I think it does not even come close to RIP. But anyway, as a reward for my loyalty towards the band and anti-piracy, I get a free Megadeth poster that will soon grace the walls of my hostel room. Check it out!
More on Endgame! While I was going through the album booklet, I happened to see Broderick’s pic. I noticed he was holding an Ibanez, like always, but this time it was an Ibanez S series guitar and a 6 stringer. Mustaine took away Broderick’s 7^th string. L
I received my Wipro termination letter in print a few days back. I couldn’t have been happier about it! Check it out above too! :D

Where the hell in KGP?

2009-08-09T02:16:00.000+05:30

It is amazing how much familiarity can change the view of a person, how that small spark of a connection can make all the difference. I first saw the "Where the hell in KGP" video weeks before leaving home and I thought how cool it was. The music was amazing, yes.

I happened to see it again and I was in another world altogether. Seeing all these places that I have been to myself in this video made feel proud and happy and larger than I am. In a small way, it even made me want to better myself somehow. I am sure this very video will make me cry silent tears all my life, in memory of what I am living right now and all the experiences I will have in months to come.

Come, experience KGP.

Last in First Out

2009-06-26T18:40:00.000+05:30

Last in First Out or LIFO is a queuing method that I briefly studied in the final year of engineering. In short, the element entering the queue exits first. An ideal example would be that of an ideal elevator with only two levels and perfectly mannered occupants. So then the person who enters last on the first level, gets to leave first on the second and last level.

I can now also think of a more practical, realistic and very much prevalent LIFO system – the Indian Education system. Actually, the admission process. And the new 90:10 quota system adds another dimension to it altogether. As if it wasn’t plagued by the scores of other ‘backward’ quotas rendering the open category pupils the most backward in this matter, we now are unnecessary dividing them on the basis of boards. And the outcome, even before it’s implementation is unrest and conflict. The CBSE and ICSE students would obviously be at a disadvantage and so their parents are ready with their megaphones and banners and lawyers. The parents of the SSC students wants their kids to be able to have their naps every half an hour during the examination, so they are armed with their megaphones, banners and lawyers, ready to deploy at the slightest possibility of the 90:10 failing. One outcome is assured – protest and unrest.

I wonder what was the need for something like this? I am strongly opposed to any system that restricts a person of merit his freedom of choice. Isn’t this rule challenging the very fundamental right of choice that our democratic government has empowered us with? However, it is this very government that seems to be working against it’s very nature.

If a capable CBSE or ICSE student wishes to shift to state board, he must be given the opportunity to do so. This is in no way restricting a state board student from getting admission. However, as nothing in life is really served on a silver platter, it would mean that the state board students will have to work a bit harder and bit longer.

The answer to the discrepancy regarding the admission is not an atrocious quota. However, it could in the form of a thoroughly discussed and sensible weighing system for individual scores. This would ensure each candidate, irrespective of board, to be at par and on a level playing field in the race for admission. Without this, if the 90:10 rule does get implemented, it would just be the case of a weaker candidate walking all over the stronger one and getting the seat just because he is allowed to.

A lot can happen over interviews

2009-06-18T10:51:00.000+05:30

Surprisingly, the graph of life can take such a steep turn at times that one can’t stop enough and appreciate the possibilities.

And especially after eight months of uselessness, any activity is welcome. More so if it is the kinds that can change your life; for good. Is it scary? Yes. But so much more.

My conquest for change took me places; literally! The most interesting part was the interaction I had with various people throughout.

These few days alone were sufficient for me to break away from the stereotype I had been slowly turning into. It was refreshing, to say the least, to meet so many people, everyone a different colour, everyone a different fragrance, everyone like another bright star urging me to explore and open up more. And yes, I was a unique colour, fragrance and a star myself.

Thank you Kunal, for making Udupi and the stay at the almost shady Manipal hotel bearable.

Thanks Rhea, for making the scorching afternoon at the campus actually fun, to say the least!

Thanks, Shradha; and your mom too; fr making the return trip to Mumbai seem almost one third of what it was! We had some interesting conversations! :D

Thanks to that set of kajal lined eyes, the most breathtakingly beautiful ones I have seen (or noticed) ever; during my ride to Ahmedabad. The uncomfortable journey would have otherwise been torturous, to say the least.

Thanks to the open door between the boogies, I actually saw the sun set into the horizon and not behind buildings.

Thanks to the guy with whom I played snooker at MICA! We totally skipped the introduction part, didn’t we? :P

Thanks, Ila, for making my waiting period at MICA as good as it was. You opened a window that gave me a glimpse of life at a B School. And it is something I want more than ever now! It would be a privilege to have seniors like yourself and the others I interacted with. Damn, the waiting list! :x

Thank you Sumit, for all the advice in Kanpur. And yes, great job!

Thank you, ‘Bull-headed-guy’ in Chennai, for being a text book example of what not to be in a Group Discussion. Perhaps it was because of you that I didn’t make it and I am thankful. For your sake, I hope you made it!

Good guys finish last

2009-06-06T22:16:00.000+05:30

This is something I read at someone's blog today and I could stop nodding all along. I somehow take this as a responsibility to propagate this furthur for every other good guy that visits my blog. You are not alone, my friend.

This is a befitting tribute to all us nice guys.

The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores.

This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honor of the guys with open minds, with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the guys who respect a girl’s every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style.

This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they’re at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don’t end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.

This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn’t worry about it.

This is for that time she interrupted the best scoring spree you’d ever orchestrated in a good game of tennis to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn’t have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing “serious” between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: “oh, but we’re just friends!” And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you’re nice like that!

I know now for a fact that nice guys don’t often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, is the fact that women are just plain illogical when it comes to nice guys!

Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as “oh, he’s too nice to date” or “he would be a good boyfriend but he’s not for me” or “he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn’t possibly ask him out!” or the most frustrating of all: “no, it would ruin our friendship.” Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathize and apologize for the men that are jerks.

Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can’t figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I’m going to sleep with this complete ass now!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn’t last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.

So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all us nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you’re sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs our patience in the department store, our holding open of doors, our party escorting services, our propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things we tolerate, for all the situations where we are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude go out to you. Boy, we sure do have credibility in society, and our well deserved vindication is coming. Hum honge kaamyaab - tra la la - hum honge kamyaab...ek din... ;-)

Hare Rama Hare Krishna Hare Rame Hare Hare

2009-05-25T23:38:00.000+05:30

I am no authority on this subject but I am writing down my views, after a particular recent experience. I would infact want everyone who reads this to tell me what they think of it. I don't mean to hurt anyone's sentiments here. I am quite religious myself, but I couldn't quite fathom this. So here goes.

Ma's better and thank god for that. No really. Playing a nurse for almost two full months can take a toll. And the smell of hospitals, keeping tabs on medicines, making sure your own mom taking her injections on time, it's a bit too much for me. I cannot even look when she takes her insulin shots twice daily and puncturing her figures for a daily blood sugar test isn't my idea of an easy job. And apart from the fact that I have a small heart ('choohe ka dil' as ma calls it, at my inability to handle any of these situation) two months is a LONG time.

So anyway, one fine day, ma's better and I am pining for a drive; (I always do) one which won't have a predetermined destination at it's end; one which won't lead me to HyperCity for veggie shopping or worse, the hospital. So I finally get this chance and I suggest Kharghar which is perhaps the farthest destination my loved pile otherwise known as car may go. I love my car, no sarcasm here. I do, period. I won't take anyone else saying anything about it, so if you want to crack a wise ass joke about it, watch it. The way I am feeling right now, your neck could crack better than your joke. Anyway, destination - Kharghar. And since we are here anyway, mom wants to go see the new ISKON temple that opened recently.

First thing I noticed about the temple was the huge flex hoardings of spiritual leaders and other of ISKON itself. The next, that it wasn't perhaps totally finished. Anyway, a temple is a temple, be it in gold or just a shrine under a tree. The inside was a huge hall quite clearly partitioned into two, one half for the men and the other half for the women. I don't know if it's apt to call it this, but there was a 'band' there singing bhajans and playing various instruments for accompaniment.

But now comes the ISKON touch. Somehow, ISKON seems to be a brand to me, rather than a group of people who want to connect with a higher being, a higher power. I have been to scores of temples before in my life, but I am yet to recollect one which has offices almost as big as the temple, plus a souvenir shop almost calling out to every person exiting.

The temple premises were occupied majorly by ISKON temple members, the ones that actually work for it and not the ones who pay and take membership. So the moment we stepped down from the last step towards our footwear, we were greeted by a smiling face who was very interested in where we live and what we do. And after the preliminaries, he invited us to his office to give us gyaan about ISKON. Basically he wanted us to be paid members. Other similar working people would enter from time to time during his speech, try and make small talk and with the politest tone question ma, "So maataji is going to become a lifetime member?" I exited the office thanks to a phone call, although a wrong number but I stayed out.

While I was out, I noticed the devotees inside. Most notable were a group of what I would like to call ISKON loyalists - clad in white, shaved heads, et al. These are not the priests mind you, but the members who go to all ISKON temples to 'connect'. I could see a few of these men in a very similar, to the point of it being a cliche, state of trance. Each of them walking with their eyes closed, mouths wide open perhaps singing along (I couldn't tell) and with their arms wide open and high up. For some reason, it just didn't seem genuine. I have seen people experience trances and this didn't seem anything like it. I mean, the very fact that you are in a trance would mean you have for that moment lost consciousness of your surroundings, no? But these guys were oscillating perfectly in that changing 10-15 foot space devoid of people perfectly. Their actions seemed almost a by-product of wanting to be, cause it would be cool. Pardon me if I am wrong. For me, worship and praying have always been a very private matter. I do not like to advertise my beliefs and I do not appreciate a lot of people then either. Maybe it's just me, but I still cannot understand these peoples' actions

But I took a sweeping look at some other devotees there. I saw a pregnant woman who was there alone, small family of visibly poor people, a group of ladies. After we left, ma thanked me for taking her there for she liked it and actually felt peaceful. I guess despite of everything what I thought wrong, her words and the sight of those people in a way justifies it all.

But yes, it remains that I would like a temple to be a simple place of worship devoid of business where God has to share space with brand managers.

To MAA or not to MAA.

2009-05-14T01:24:00.001+05:30

I know I am a few days late, but still, this post is dedicated to the commercial concept of Mothers' Day. But no, I shan't make any money off this.

I was thinking about the journey I have had as a kid, in terms of what I call my mother. From muffled nonsensical sounds to attract her attention before I could speak to the occasional Mrs. Bhatia today, it has been a long, real long journey.

The first deliberate and complete word used for the purpose would have to be 'mummy'. Come on, mummy is a worldwide accepted word for moms. Only until, ofcourse, you turn teenager and mummy sounds way too juvenile. In the search for cool, 'mummy' soon turns a 'mom'. And 'mom' she'd stay for a few years.

But then it suddenly happened. It was unintentional, almost as if habitual, that I called 'mom' - 'maa'. So what's the issue? Why the drama? Well, I have always shied away from anything melodramatic and theatrical (apart from when blogging. Why, you ask? Well, commercial reasons.) all my life and the term 'maa' would always bring to my mind the stereotypical image of a Bollywood mother in a saari, all tired sweaty probably because of a chase against the bad guys to find, well, the stereotypical Bollywood 'Beta'. And the reunion would mark the "Maa", "Beta" routine. The sound would find ways to escape the confines of the room (if somehow the reunion happens there) and rebound off nearby mountains and valleys and resonate for seconds to come amidst the typical Bollywood symphony.

But the issue is, what do you resort to once you have outgrown 'mom'? I found the golden solution. It is 'Ma'. Well, notice the difference, people, the absence of a single 'a' can cause a world of a difference. The unnecessary trailing is gone. And consult every jyotishi and numerologist and blah and bluh and they'd tell you the difference. (There ought to be. How can they say the absence of an alphabet makes no difference when they advice people to add/subtract some from their names to turn their fortunes?) So basically, 'ma' is 'maa' without the drama, music, etc. and still is a perfectly legit term to refer to, well, maa. Or ma. No, maa. Ah, you get it.

PS: This post, with hopes that ma gets back to normalcy soon.

Call and Confirm UR Career Job!!!

2009-04-25T14:06:00.000+05:30

Ok, This I just HAD to put up here. The following is a mail I received about 15 seconds back! Read my fellow engineer friends. These are the people who will help bbuild our careers! Alas, the fate of us mass produced Mumbai University engineers! :P

Twin Training To Win Interviews

Now a days, The Companies not Recruit the Candidates whose having limited knowledge in one Subject. So, As per our Client Request & Requirements we introduce our Dual Technical Training in One Course & Same Fees.

Our Combined Training Programme :

1. Mainframe Application + Software Testing (Basics)

2. Software Testing + Mainframe Application (Basics)

3. Telecom Testing + Game Testing

Our Clients are require candidates who is having knowledge in diversify Technologies. So, Train in Two courses in single fees & Get UR Assured Job thru our Consulting Team.

Special Discounted Fees for Limited Period.(till 27^th Apr’09)

Call & Confirm UR Career Job with us.

"Jaanta nahin mera baap kaun hai?"

2009-04-23T21:52:00.000+05:30

I love driving. I think everyone who knows me even a bit would know this fact. I derive immence pleasure from the activity and for once, I don't give a shit if I cause harm to the environment and prove to be the prime contributor in the development of a new Ozone hole. (though I know I won't be) They can even go and name it after me, as long as they choose a name other than Anshul's Hole.

But I never really thought I'd encounter a situation where I could actually say that driving was more of a chore, just means to reach the destination faster than any other. Yes, the impossible did happen. Driving to the hospital to see your mother who's admitted into the ICU can't really be termed as a pleasurable activity and the only thing you can think of is how fast can you reach the hospital and to make sure things get normal as soon as possible. However, stranded at a red light in front of Abhudaya bank, my mind was pulled to the fact that how crowded my beloved sector 17 has gotten and that traffic is becoming more and more unruly. 100+ second red signals don't help. 20 seconds of green light probably seem an icing on the cake, but no, there's more. The autos will make sure that you can only utilise 10 seconds of your ample 20 second of greenery because, well, they are the autowallas. And autowallas can give bus drivers a run for their black money any day, they have the advantage of smaller vehicles and about a hundred others ready to come to their defence within a square meter of area.

Well, I had an incident at this very junction. I was lucky enough to be the second person in the middle lane (I would have preferred the pole position, but hey, I can live with it!) which meant I could just about manage to cross the street but honking from the moment the green light goes on to remind the autowalla to step off and not intrude into my personal time would be a must. Well, the autowallas, I learnt to tackle after a few times, so they were no more an issue than a tiny piece of chicken stuck in your molar - irritating, but managable.

So while I expertly tackle chicken, I happen to see a kinetic almst next to me actually moving at about 40 kmph. Now mind you, I had just started moving and this was a busy intersection. Driving at 200 on Palm Beach is much safer. Well, he had space, he's moving in the extreme left, the worst that I can expect is for him to go straight. But he had other plans. Mr. Kinetic wants to turn right from the extreme left and other cars who are properly positioned in the middle lane to go straight do not matter ofcourse. Why should they matter? Well, nature takes it's own course and so does Mr. Kinetic, who happens to turn sharply right in front of me causing me to suddenly brake to avoid bumping into him. And then he realises that there are other vehicles on the street too! "Wow, I enlightened a soul today", I thought, but I was in for a surprise. He happens to be the one to give me the look that says, "What are you doing?" and actually signals me to meet him in the road ahead. The road ahead being dug up, is now only a single lane for bi-directional traffic. But ofcourse, should Mr. Kinetic bother? Heh! You guessed right, he stops right in front of me and tells me I just almost killed (gasp) him! That he was actually in the middle lane and had given the turning signal. (yes, I am a being from another planetand it is normal for others of my kind to see the turning signals given by the person who is moving right next to you) And before I could protest and tell him what an idiot he is, he has already given me the oh-so-cliched words, "You don't know who I am. I can do anything. I can even get your licence cancelled." Yeah right. And the most powerful people in the country really travel on kinetics. The presidents bulletproof Maybach really is a farce. The truely important people like to keep it simple to avoid public attention.

Anyway, by this time, there are already three cars blocked behind me. The driver of the car right behind me happens to step out and come to him with the intent of clobbering him silly. And the way Mr. Kinetic changes! "Sir, you don't know. He almost banged me. (Oh please, could you have not chosen better words? I would NEVER bang you, you idiot.) I am going to take him to the preezhan (Prison)" That would have been a pretty picture. The preezhan being only a 15 second walk from the very spot, would have ensured he spent the night there and he knew it too. Well, the driver from the car behind me gave him some solid khunnas and asked him to get off the road and well, he did. I would have enjoyed this, had I not had the hospital to reach. But well, the man was a lost cause I feel, no use wasting my resourses on him. May his contacts remain intact, for god know it, he will need them sooner or later, to get out of preezhan.

Amen!

What the PHISH?

2009-04-08T23:49:00.001+05:30

I happened to receive an e-mail a few days back that was said something to this effect -

Dear PayPal Member,
This email confirms that you have paid XYZ $439.00 USD using PayPal.
This credit card transaction will appear on your bill as "PAYPAL XYZ*".

PayPal Shopping Cart Contents

Item Name: Nokia 8800 Brand New

Quantity: 1

Total: $410.00 USD

Cart Subtotal: $410.00 USD

Shipping Charge: $30.00 USD

Cart Total: $440.00 USD

If you haven't authorized this charge, click the link below to cancel the payment and get a full refund.

DISPUTE TRANSACTION

My reactions in chronological order.

Wow. Dad actually booked a new Nokia 8800 for me from the US!!! Now I would an iPhone 3G AND a Nokia 8800! Sweet!
Dad booked a new Nokia 8800 for me from the US?
Bloody hell, somebody used my credit card number and got himself a sweet phone. He’s going down, I will hunt him down and take that phone. So then I will have an iPhone 3G AND a Nokia 8800! Sweet!
Oh crap, I should stop the transaction!!!

Yes, that was the exact order. I am insane, no doubt. Well, I happened to click the link that was provided to cancel the transaction and my browser warned me of the possibility of it being a phishing site. I closed it and on closer inspection of the mail, I realised that it wasn’t by PayPal, but by ParPal, though they used the former’s name throughout the mail and that none of my credit card details were provided in the mail. And oh yes, I never registered with PayPal! :P

In a nut shell, I shall not have the iPhone 3G AND the Nkia 8800, but just the iPhone 3G. Hmmm, ok! :D

PS: Special thanks to Dipika for giving me the line that gave me inspiration for the title of the post. Here is the line, that could turn out to be the harbinger of extinction, if true.

Dipika – “Girls don’t fuck, they fish.”

Jumper

2009-04-02T00:33:00.001+05:30

Alumni meet’s on the 4th of April! Yes, that’s just a whisker more than 2 days away and boy am I excited! Part of the excitement is because I get to be on stage again! Well, not with a band and playing metal, but still, I love playing acoustic stuff! And that’s what I am playing!

And my partner in crime – Mohsin! (He has various names given to him, by various people, but I guess Mohsin suits him best!) Anyway, he happened to recommend this one song called Jumper to me today as the second song, by a band called Third Eye Blind. Great to listen to, but when I really heard it, I could so relate to so many different people in my life. All for different reasons.

Few of the best lines from the song -

Well everyone I know has got a reason to say,
Put the past away

Everyone's got to face down the demons,
Maybe today,
We can put the past away

All I can say is, no one remembers or even gives half a fuck as much as you do, so just forget it. It’s much easier to that way. I’d rather say this to you guys than not and I have already, I am sure. So here’s hoping you comply. If not, here’s Jim Carry asking you to! And here’s the actual song!

JUMPER

I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend,
You could cut ties with all the lies, that you've been living in,
And if you do not want to see me again, I would understand.
I would understand.
The angry boy,
a bit too insane,
Icing over a secret pain,
You know you don't belong,
You're the first to fight,
You're way too loud,
You're The flash of light,
on a burial shroud,
I know something's wrong,
Well everyone I know has got a reason,
to say,
put the past away,
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend,
You could cut ties with all the lies,
That you've been living in,
And if you do not want to see me again,
I would understand,
I would understand.
And well he's on the table,
and he's gone to code,
And I do not think anyone knows,
What they are doing here,
And your friends have left you,
You've been dismissed.
I never thought it would come to this,
and I, I want you to know,
Everyone's got to face down the demons,
Maybe today,
We can put the past away,
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend.
You could cut ties with all the lies,
that you've been living in,
And if you do not want to see me again,
I would understand,
I would understand,
I would understand...
(I would understand)
(I would understand)
(Understand)
Ya ya ya ya ya...
Can you put the past away?
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend,
I would understand
(I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend,)
I would understand
(I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend,)
And I would understand
(I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend,)
I would understand
(I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend,)
And I would understand...

India Shining. India Shining?

2009-03-29T20:54:00.001+05:30

If I were to react to the above statement, a simple answer would be – No, far from it. And I hate to admit it. Of course, it’s my opinion, but I can now, more than ever before can see this. Over the course of my travels in the past week, I have gotten a chance to interact with different kinds of people and this has just cemented my beliefs.

India, is not a country, sadly. It’s a large geographical area where people belong to smaller close knit boundaries of locality, language and culture live (can not always be exchanged with co-exist). And I have seen first hand now, how repulsively a localite feels about an outsider. Examples are everywhere and in shocking numbers. From the Shiv Senas to the South Indians who will refuse to speak in Hindi, they all stand tall as examples of a country that just doesn’t want to be. The biggest asset for a Bihari is his pride which more often than not, exhibits itself as arrogance and rigidity even in the face of failure. That of a South Indian is the feeling of belonging to a close knit community and defending it against trespassers. Ditto with Gujratti’s and Bongs and to some extent, even Punju’s.

I am saddened by the hollow hope that rising figures of average income rouses. Because today I believe it is not money that will save us, but education. I have realised that not all of the country’s rich are educated. In fact quite the contrary. Businessmen taking forward the family baton are usually only about qualified for a call centre job; on paper. But money does not bring with it the values I find in shortage. In fact, it seems to take them away.

It is lack of education which is plaguing the country. I think with education, a person’s horizons are broadened and one becomes more tolerant to someone else’s views, opinions and others, in general. Take a look at the masses within the saffron brigade and others spread throughout the country. These are people who are totally useless and have nothing to do in life. So these activities are mere fillers in a useless life of a person unqualified for anything.

But still, there is hope. The uneducated really do respect the educated and education in general. And the need of the day is exactly that – respect for education. The one thing that is required to supplement this is not mere education, but value driven education. I can now understand the difference between the two and yes, they are quite different.

It is just the cosmopolitans that are imbibing within themselves these values, but very slowly. And it is not going uncontested. It will happen. But it will take time to flow through the veins of the country, a long time.

Crazy Train

2009-03-29T19:58:00.001+05:30

After having travelled by train enough number of times for this lifetime in the past week, I think I have earned myself some authority to talk about train journeys and the Dos and DONT’S of the same.

NEVER embark on a train journey that would take anything more than an hour alone. They can be torturous to say the least. The roaches don’t help either. Add to that people that you perhaps would never be able to relate to and the incredible gourmet meals. (Spot the sarcasm?)

One or more of the above reasons will ensure that you don’t sleep at the nights, if the journey includes it, hence making it even longer.

But wait, am I saying train journeys are a completely lost cause? NO! If you have someone interesting to talk to with you, the longer the better! I was almost disappointed when it was time to sleep on that particular train ride, cause for once, I actually slept! And what timing, woke three minutes before my stop! :P Shocking!

I had the privilege of having a great view almost all the time while travelling. It was one of the high points of the journey and something I was quite looking forward to. I actually saw a sunset after what seems like months. It’s just so sad, that life is so fast paced that we hardly have to time to appreciate the small things that could add beauty to our life. And yes, I saw this standing at the door of the compartment, full Mumbai local train style!

Keeping with the tradition if the blog, I shall end with a song. No, it’s not gonna be Ozzy’s Crazy Train, but a song that came out about about six years back and I loved it then! Love song, but so different, almost anti-mush. And the music slowing down in the bridge para that you can label “Can you Imagine.” for the last part, being “And Me.” – just so beautiful! I should download the song, been years since I heard it. This is, Drops of Jupiter by well, Train!

Now that she’s back in the atmosphere
With drops of Jupiter in her hair, hey, hey, hey, hey
She acts like summer and walks like rain
Reminds me that there’s time to change, hey, hey, hey, hey
Since the return from her stay on the moon
She listens like spring and she talks like June, hey, hey, hey, hey
hey, hey, hey, hey
Tell me did you sail across the sun
Did you make it to the milky way to see the lights all faded
And that heaven is overrated
Tell me, did you fall for a shooting star
One without a permanent scar
And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there
Now that she’s back from that soul vacation
Tracing her way through the constellation, hey, hey, hey
mmmm.....
She checks out Mozart while she does tae-bo
Reminds me that there’s room to grow, hey, hey, hey, hey
yea...
Now that she’s back in the atmosphere
I’m afraid that she might think of me as plain ol jane
Told a story about a man who is too afraid to fly so he never did land
Tell me did the wind sweep you off your feet
Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day
And head back to the milky way
And tell me, did Venus blow your mind
Was it everything you wanted to find
And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there
Can you imagine no love, pride, deep-fried chicken
Your best friend always sticking up for you, even when I know you’re wrong
Can you imagine no first dance, freeze dried romance five-hour phone
Conversation
The best soy latte that you ever had . . . and me
Tell me did the wind sweep you off your feet
Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day
And head back toward the milky way
Tell me did you sail across the sun
Did you make it to the milky way to see the lights all faded
And that heaven is overrated
Tell me, did you fall for a shooting star
One without a permanent scar
And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself
nah nah nah nah nah nah nah
nah nah nah nah nah nah nah
And did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day
nah nah nah nah nah nah
nah nah nah nah nah nah
And did you fall for a shooting star
Fall for a shooting star
nah nah nah nah nah nah
nah nah nah nah nah nah
Are you loney looking for yourself out there

Serial Killer

2009-03-12T22:09:00.000+05:30

Most of India would have read about the shooting incident in a German school. Key points of the case

The shooter was an ex-student
He was wearing black

I had to go to college today to return a book. I noticed some strange, almost fearful stares. I decided it's time to leave!

ESPecially not for me.

2009-03-04T10:51:00.000+05:30

Yesterday I had the opportunity to play two different ESP LTD's. The EC-401 and the Kirk Hammet signature with EMG passives. I plugged the KH sig into the amp and started to play...

And I fell in love...with the AMPLIFIER!

Jackson rocks! (Actually, this deserves the RAWKS walla rocks, but what he hell, Jacksons rock! \m/)

Randomness : The by-product of a large unoccupied and tending to infinity, apparently; ofcourse, slice of the 4th dimention - TIME

2009-02-27T12:05:00.000+05:30

I hate eating alone. In my eyes, it defeats the purpose of a meal. But alas, if you have been alone for the past three days and it's been about thirty hours since your last proper meal, the need creeps in. And the need needs to be urgently satisfied especially when you decide to take a walk and pay your bill at the station and half way there realise you cannot walk faster than one third your normal speed and that the number of fingers on each hand are for some reason (a scientifically valid phenomena, I am sure) varying between eight and ten.

I walk into McDonald's, not wanting to eat anything they have to offer, but because of the need I place my order. "Four minutes for your order, Sir." Perfect. I sit by one of those tall chairs as Opeth - Ending Credits mellows me down and the music just swims through my blood, skin and brain. I wonder what I would ever do without my music.

Then I happen to see this little girl playing nearby. And it's so beautiful. But soon the girl realises that I am watching and just stops and goes away. And what do I do? I realise something, I thought I wanted to share with the highly exclusive people who invest their time here! :P

Good and happy things are like watching little girls play. You can enjoy this as much as you want to from a distance. You can not really try for this, or plan for it. One must just wait. There are hundreds of little girls around with springs in their feet just waiting to play. You are bound to encounter one sooner or later.

Blink

2009-01-24T22:51:00.000+05:30

Fourteen hour sessions on any topic is a drag even when it is one of interest, more so otherwise. And gyaan given at the thirteen hour of the same is hardly ever assimilated. But during this hour, the speaker happened to talk about a book called 'Blink'. In a nutshell, the book says that the gut feeling that one gets at the blink of an eyelid, is usually the correct one, even though careful analysis would reveal otherwise.

This I seemed to latch onto and it felt life changing. It's not a rarity that I have felt I am fighting a losing battle, somthing I knew was just never meant to be, right at the start. It's almost like I knew it isn't meant to be, but I just need to push it, just to try and make it work.

I guess I needed the 'Blink' the way it was handed to me. I had the realisation somewhere at the back of my head. And 'Blink' gave me the necessary push. This calls for a reform. Though too late for a new year resolution, I guess I WANT to genuinely start trusting my instincts better now. I know that my instincts are correct most of the times. So this should be enough reason to follow them and behave accordingly.

No more fighting losing battles. There is only a loser at the end of it and sorrow throughout the journey. It's time to evolve into a better me. I am kinda liking this new and improved Anshul already!

Cheers to the realisation and I hope to follow it more often than not, especially in the more important things in life.

PS: If anyone notices a sudden change in my behaviour toward you, I guess this is what caused it. And it's your cue to think what you did. Cheers!

Persons Tiled

2009-01-20T10:45:00.000+05:30

Decisions for a major part of one's life at the age of 22. Questions one has never thought of before suddenly start crawling out of the woodwork. 'What do I want to do?', 'Where do I want to be?','Who am I?', 'Why am I here?', the works...

At 22, one is forced to take actions that demand maturity a 22 year old is not capable of. Changing one's entire life direction, parting with the dearest of people; and basically, trying to give a 110% just to become the person one would be for the rest of one's life. I wonder if this is what metamorphoses into maturity later on.

Different people, different perceptions, different problems, different solutions and yes, different screw ups. (bound to be) But a common feature for most, is the ever expanding and all-powerful cloud of confusion. It is just an optical illusion, I feel, whenever one says that one is clear about the future. Else, he is secretly smoking pot. Period.

I can say that I decided to go along a particular direction after graduation (actually during it, worthless detail, actually) and have been trudging along it ever since, sometimes with the enthusiasm of an army bound to succeed and other times like an almost lifeless lost person in a desert in the search of water. Milestones along this road have been various national level examinations (CAT, XAT, blah, bluh) that seem to be the cool and 'in' thing for the aimless, jobless, graduates, professionals and all else. (one not necessarily different from another) The first realisation that was driven home was how clueless I am, along with a majority of the other 2.75 odd lack Indians. The second sadening realisation was that how few of these make it big. All subject to 2.5 hours of gauging one's capability and a now, social evil-The Percentile.

CAT-97.43%ile. First impression, "Whoa! Great! I kicked 97.43 people's asses out of 100!" Dig a bit deeper and work on it and you realise, it doesn't really matter how many asses you kicked, what matters is how many times you got your ass kicked. So it's actually the 2.57 people that kicked my ass that day which is hurting. Shocking.

JMET-AIR 673. The IITs are a bit more straight forward with their results, not entangling people within the threads of mundane percentiles governed by the total number of applicants, while the number of seats remains constant. The rank tell me straight, you screwed up here, you screwed up there, BUT, you might have a jolly good chance here.

XAT-98.35%ile. First impression, again, "Great! I just have to tell me friends." And then I realised, I missed XLRI. I am sure just a matter of a max of 2 marks. Couldn't be more. And it's this 1.65th of a person that pushes me to the 2nd tier.

All these have been examples of 'Oh-Shit-I-Just-missed' kind of examinations. Well, I have had my, 'Ha-why-did-I-even-give' exams, but they do not feature on this prime crumb of cyber space. :D

The only thing I can understand about percentiles is the apparent lie it projects. Isolate the figure frm the rank and it paints a rosy picture, makes a hero out of a candidate. But the hero knows better, for he can see the people ahead, the people who will smilingly pull away the seat just when he is to sit; and rightfully too, for alas, he had a higher percentile.

Made me want Painkiller, but I stumbled across Meatloaf and here was Rock and Roll Dreams. Truely, helps make me Stronger, Free and Brave. Read up! Special attention needed to the chorus.

You can't run away forever
But there's nothing wrong
With getting a good head start
You want to shut out the night,
You want to shut down the sun
You want to shut away the pieces of a broken heart

Think of how we'd lay down together
We'd be listening to the radio so loud and so strong
Every golden nugget coming like a gift of the gods
Someone must have blessed us when he gave us those songs

I treasure your love, I never want to lose it
You've been through the fires of hell
And I know you've got the ashes to prove it
I treasure your love, I want to show you how to use it
You've been through a lot of pain in the dirt
And I know you've got the scars to prove it

Remember everything that I told you,
And I'm telling you again that it's true
When you're alone and afraid, and you're completely amazed
To find there's nothing anybody can do
Keep on believing, and you'll discover baby

There's always something magic,
There's always something new
And when you really really need it the most
That's when rock and roll dreams come through
The beat is yours forever, the beat is always true
And when you really really need it the most
That's when rock and roll dreams come through for you

Once upon a time was a backbeat,
Once upon a time all the chords came to life
And the angels had guitars even before they had wings
If you hold onto a chorus you can get through the night

Remember everything that I told you,
And I'm telling you again that it's true
You're never alone cause you can put on the phones
And let the drummer tell your heart what to do
Keep on believing, and you'll discover baby

The beat is yours forever
That's when rock and roll dreams come through

Hello

2009-01-14T22:22:00.000+05:30

It was 2004 I think. I had heard a sound that was very new to me and it excited me too. It was Evanescence-Fallen. I went and purchased the cassette the day the album was released and started listening. The Nu Metal genre was foreign to me, (kinda still is, these guys were the only people I liked) but something that caught my attention was the depth and darkness of the album, something that the vocalist and lyricist, Amy Lee, should get credit for. The voice is menacingly captivating and the most intense songs, vocally, I felt were the clean piano songs, which also happened to be my favourites off the album.

The album was so dark and filled with sadness but it had a drug-like quality to it. I have never had any addictions in my life, but I guess how I felt about this album was about how it would be. There sadness would just engulf me but would keep calling me back. It was something I just couldn't keep myself away from. I think this is the power of beautiful music, that you just can't get enough of it. And I do have this strange preferance for sad music over just happy songs. Happy songs seem so sublime, ready to leave you the moment it's over. On the other hand, sad songs will haunt you for as long as you don't realise how to deal with it.

Well, the cassette got worn out, the deck got replaced by a DVD player and I soon forgot about the album, with the advent of bigger and better names. Yesterday I realised I had the entire album on PC somehow and transfered it to my music player. I couldn't connect with it the way I used to. But then the song 'Hello' started with the piano riffs and it all came back to me. Amy Lee's voice had the same effect as it did years back, even more intense, if you ask me. i had goosebumps all over when she broke into the last para. I heard that song in a loop for about half an hour until I realised that it is taking over me again. I somehow managed to break away.

Having said so much about the first album, I can't keep myself from commenting about the second. I honestly wasn't too curious about this one. I checked out just two songs on TV, that too. Lithium and Call Me When You are Sober. They didn't do even a fraction of what even the weakest song off Fallen did to me. Lithium was strictly ok, but Call Me... was pathetic. I happen to come across an article where Amy Lee confesses that she had written this album in the worst of her days, dealing with an ugly break-up and coming to grips with the feeling associated with it. So the album was really the way she felt then. I couldn't take it. I felt a strange hatred for the fellow who caused this, considering I am pretty much a peace loving person. He not only prevented the world from getting another album as good as Fallen, but hurt someone, a human, to this extent too. I guess it is things like these that give us men a bad name.

Well, I will leave you with the lyrics of the song. I strongly recommend anyone who has ever been moved by any kind of music ever to get this song and listen to it in peace, atleast once. Then tell me what you feel about it.

HELLO

Playground school bell rings again,

Rain clouds come to play again,
Has no one told you she's not breathing?
Hello, I'm your mind giving you someone to talk to,
Hello...

If I smile and don't believe,
Soon I know I'll wake from this dream,
Don't try to fix me, I'm not broken,
Hello, I'm the lie, living for you so you can hide,
Don´t cry...

Suddenly I know I'm not sleeping,
Hello, I'm still here,
All that's left of yesterday...
Hello (continued)

This is the life. This is the life?

2009-01-10T23:02:00.000+05:30

Rewind about three months and my daily routine was way much more interesting than what it is now. The day would begin with a great cup of my super speciality Whipped (not yet trademarked!) coffee and end with a few hours of Sudoku in bed. Fast forward to today, I have realised that spending twenty minutes of labour to make great coffee for just myself and have no one to share it with is injustice to Whipped coffee. And about the Sudoku, I happened to delete it somehow from my phone, by-product of one of those "I-should-delete-unused-items-and-free-my-phone-memory" sessions. As a result, no Whipped coffee and no Sudoku. Sadness prevails...

I happened to be driving on an errand a few days back and I had this sudden uncontrollable urge to run down a few people walking right in the middle of the road. Kudos to joblessness. But I didn't. Sanity prevails...

I had about four hours to myself the other day. I was torn between the choice to either ignore myself completely and vile away the abundant time making small talk with some random person I didn't want to, something I so totally love, (CAUTION: Excessive Sarcasm) or to indulge myself and have some quality time 'ME' time. Of course, study throughout was an option, but it was soon forgotten! Result-I decided to watch Before Sunrise again, probably for the seventh time now. But let me take you through the start. Laptop to LCD and home theatre and voila! There was the perfect set-up for the best viewing of Before Sunrise, ever! The geek within me smiled in satisfaction! And an adequately re-beaned bean bag instead of the the sofa made it even better! I loved the movie again! But I have decided. I will go to Vienna for my honeymoon! Well, if my future is to be predicted on the lines of how my life is now, I guess I'd be going alone only. Well, in that case, do remind me to get a Euro Rail pass made for myself! Who knows, it could be Before Sunrise: A new Beginning! :P

But it's amazing, how a particular stagnation will lead to an amazing high, just by being there. The rush caused by getting something totally unexpected is something I am quite alien to, but I shall savor this feeling for a long time! So yeah, as of now, This IS the life! Calls for some Whipped coffee! It would be perfect if I could have an interesting long conversation with someone interesting over it.

Ah, I just died in the SNAP today, must've been something they did...

2008-12-21T23:48:00.000+05:30

Another sunday gone, another exam given. SNAP. For the uninitiated, it's for the Symbiosis Institutes. For some reason, it has this whole brand value attached to it, so management papers are always like, CAT, XAT, SNAP! What? Really! True Story!

Anyway, it wouldn't take a rocket scientist to guess it didn't go as planned! (I still stick to my claim, SNAP is very much crackable, even on a normally bad day. But alas, Murphy, he's a sick old man who has his watching glass stuck at me and will make sure all his duties and more are fullfiled, pertaining to me atleast.) And as it didn't go as planned, I will write about how screwed up the entire exam is! Why? Well, cause I can! And I will! :P

A brief outline of SNAP-150 questions, (is a norm, 135 this time) 4 sections, (no change) and 120 minutes of time. (ditto)

Test timing is 2 to 4 pm. Well, I still remember the times at TIME and IMS where people used to crib abot how they had to report 30-45 minutes before the exam. And for the biggie CAT, it was a whole 1 hour! [:O] Well, crib as much as we may, it's best that way. Back to SNAP, reporting 1:30. But people can gleefully enter even at 2. Well, the general public really seemed to be having a stroll in the park anyway. I find my classroom a about 1:35 and find my seat. Hmmm, the classroom seems to be the output of a differentiation optimisation problem. ("How many benches can be crammed into a single classroom, dimentions of the benches and comfort of te students not being any constraints?") And the invigilators were something else! I don't really expect super smart dudes/dudettes to be invigilators in a KBP college, (short for Karamveer Bhaurao Patil College, formerly Modern College! Oh, the irony! :P) but here the invigilators really were the pions! They walk in at 1:45 with the papers, mumble instructions to the first half bench and start distributing papers, quite reluctantly. I get hold of my paper and start to read instructions. I notice the discripency in the paper pattern, but realise how cool change is, so, hmmm, ok. But then, instructions 9 and 11 needed furthur clarifications. Why? Read for yourself. (Or for that matter, refer exhibit 1, at the beginning of the post.)

9. Return this Test Booklet and Answer OMR Sheet to the invigilator before you leave the hall. Answer Sheet is valid only if if it returned with the Test Booklet

11. You may take the question paper back with you.

Really? And would someone please explain to be the difference between Test Booklet and question paper? I sarcastically ask one of the patrolling invigilators about it and he confidently answers that you have to give back everything. And when I make him read point 11, hmmm, well, "I will have to contact the Head Invigilator from this Symbiosis." Ohhhk, right. That, at 1:53 AM. And usually a bell in the +5/-5 min range of the starting hour is considered the stating bell, (as I did consider one around 1:55PM along with about 50% of the class) I noticed the huge ass seal (exhibit 2) on the paper and appreciated how secretive these guys really were then. Too bad for the rogue bell. I was already 2 math problems into it when I realised it was, well, a false alarm!

One hour and precisely 11 minutes and 37 seconds into the paper, the electricity goes. SO much for the till-now-impressive 12 fans and 20 tubes in the class. No air+no light+1 screwed up SNAP=too much shit for precisely 48 minutes 23 seconds. (I did the math)

Well, all said and done, the paper got over, I got another opportunity to use my "I don't need to be super intelligent So I'll Leave Half My Brain at Home to Rest" philosophy once again. So far, it has had only about 50% accuracy. Too bad, doesn't help a bit. No decision regarding furthur action can be taken yet. Ah, well, such is life! But I am surprised, the sleazy graffiti on the walls didn't distract me, (neither the female next to me desparately trying to find from the looks of it, the meaning of life itself there) the huge number of people peacefully sitting in one small classroom didn't get me as cranky as normally would, (I presume it was the lack of motion, just) and I didn't give a rat's ass about the chinky female sitting two benches behind me, checking me out everytime she walked past! (True Story!)

All in all, another sunday wasted, another brick in the wall! I should have just picked up dad's car and drove to Pune and back...

Disfigured

2008-12-18T11:55:00.000+05:30

Much has been said about the terrorist attacks on Mumbai. Opinions were voiced, some more forcefully than others. Promises of reforms were made. Three weeks later, as the city is almost back to normalcy, depictions of a fallen terror bring back haunting memories of the carnage. One look at the distorted faces of the dead terrorists and I can't help but feel sympathy. For once, i urge everyone to keep aside the Take-no-prisoners attitude and look at those faces. They are the faces of people who died along with hundreds other. Yes, they were the one's responsible too, but it makes me wonder what could have caused these men to silence their conscience so effectively. It couldn't have been money or the promise of a better future. More than anything else, these people would have known that they are on a suicide mission, even if promised otherwise. The only motvating force, I think, could have been a sense of belonging and the sense of security that comes along with it. Brainwashing, so strong, that hatred becomes the only force driving an individual.

I do not believe that an entire country is at fault. I refuse to believe that a religion is at fault. I doubt any religion professes killing. I have known Muslim people all my life and I have to say that they form some of the best people I have known. I live next door to a huge Muslim family and I have never felt as much as a whisker of doubt about their integrity, or fearful at being where I am.

But what I do believe is that a small group of people so rigid and unrelenting in their ideals and philosophies; so filled with hatred that they would go to any means possible to propogate it; are the ones to blame. And for this, they carefully choose weak minds, so easily moldable according to their requirements. These are the pawns that do the dirty work and are so easy to dispose off. Well, look at them now, they've met a horrible death after taking down hundreds with them. Their dead bodies are lying in a foreign land where all they will get is hatred. No one has claimed their bodies so they might atleast receive a decent burial. I wonder if this is what they had in mind.

I hope and pray for peace, not just in the world, but in the mind of individuals that will unclog their minds from the hatred and cause them to not take such measures or prevent them from being fooled into taking them. Amen.

For my bloody, K!

2008-12-18T11:48:00.000+05:30

DISCLAIMER: The K in question is different from the K mentioned a few posts below!

K, my dear bloody! I have nothing much to type for you, because well, we don't need written words! And who needs to imprison you within the cages of a blog?

All this with lotsa love, best wishes and hopes that you find everything that makes you super happy, always! Even that right guy who seems to be hiding right now! Mere exams hone de, we'll go hunting for him saath saath, promise!

Your very own bloody,

Anshul!

Lollipop

2008-12-15T21:34:00.000+05:30

It's the day after. Another exam given. Better than CAT. This realisation/current state of belief could be driven by the lack of resourses and dearth of dependable information; as against the truth, I do know that. As a result, happy pappy; a bit, confused; quite a bit, contemplating; a lot.

Anyone who'd have logged into GTalk or Facebook would have seen me online almost throughout the day. Well, I'd say I was looking up articles for GK and getting some random papers off sites. Well, who am I fooling? Only myself. The above mentioned activity perhaps constituted less than 10% of my online activity today. What have I been doing then? Well, quite a lot. Watching random videos on YouTube, getting tabs of songs I'd never play, thinking, wondering, changing my facebook status, experiencing mood swings, contemplating, trying to hold onto the situation slipping away slowly from my fingers, reinstating my belief that hauntingly sad songs are so much more beautiful than happy sublime songs, wanting to make the world a better place, wondering how and when the world could be a better place for me, thinking; of everyone I have known in the past 20 odd years, (some more than the others, while some; not at all) and well, 'hope hoping against hope hopen'.

PS: The name of this post? I have no idea where I got that from!

Try something simpler!

2008-12-13T00:36:00.000+05:30

Excerpts of a chat between me and my friend Bipin "Jason Becker" Ramteke. (Here as 'OPETH')

ME: you've heard that song right, Beyond the realms of death. Uska 1st solo kaisa hai? I mean is it very diff?

OPETH: Don't like priest that much re. Priest ka solos are always great man.

ME: Great as in awesome sounding or...super difficult? Or both? :D

OPETH: They are very technical stuff man.

ME: :D

OPETH: Those 2 are too good with guitars

ME: Iska solos sun...

OPETH: Its difficult stuff I think

ME: really something. Ah...thanks man! I'm doing uska 1st solo as of now...done about a third already

OPETH: Judas priest solos are difficult man. Involves shit loads of techniques. Try something simpler

ME: I'm working on it...don't demoralise me!

OPETH: hahahaha. K cool. It simple's man!

Well, Bipin, UP YOURS!!! See the video below, I did it!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D4A08uRNynQ

A LITTLE ABOUT BIPIN: Bipin is India's next big thing. Is super tight, super fast and an awesome song and riff/solo writer. It just isn't for the sake of a silly joke that he's often known as Jason Becker! Along with the other Next Big Thing, AK, he's going to take the world by storm! Watch out the Bhayanak Maut's and the Demonic Resurrections!

For K

2008-12-11T23:44:00.000+05:30

I log into Blogger and I see Shilpi's post starting with "Where have all the kids I used to play with in my compound suddenly gone?"

My thought wander back to my own childhood days. Days of abandon, days that seem so far away, almost alien. Subtle tell tale signs remind me that it indeed was part of this lifetime and not some television series I stopped watching abruptly or visions from a previous life.

Now, at 22, the world is a whole new entity in itself. Actually, I am more equipped to accept and appreciate it. It's a wonder how much things can change in about a decade. Faces change, the people behind the faces change. But mostly, the change happens because we let it.

I still remember my days as a kid where we used to have a small group and play cricket and badminton. One fine day, I moved out and almost suddenly, all connection with these friends was broken. I thought about these people and how I could magically restore my friendship. Kept thinking about how I don't know them anymore, how I haven't been in touch for quite a while now, about how much they have changed and well, we were just kids who played silly games together. I'm sure they thought the same way too. Important Lesson boys and girls: Thinking too much can be hazardous to health. sanity and social standings!

It so happened one fine November day in 2007 that I got a friend request from a girl named 'K'. (Identity hidden for privacy reasons. She's my friend, all mine!) I didn't quite recognise her, as I decided to ignore it for the time being and saw my scrapbook. It was K, the tom boy from my building who moved out a few years back to UAE. This was the first correspondence we had in 10 years! Yes, 10 years. And just to show how much can change in ten years, this tom boy had infact become a young girl (kinda cute too!) and was behaving like one too! Whoa!

Today I can say that we chat atleast 5 times a week and she is most certainly one of my better friends. (even though she ditched me :x)

She's a great talker and gives awesome motivational speeches and I, well, did something that will give me nightmares for the rest of my life for her, but it was totally worth it! K, this is for you! I hope I made your day!

Joblessness

2008-12-11T01:55:00.001+05:30

Being in an unabated state of joblessness, uselessness (the works) has it’s peculiarities, singularities, oddities, idiosyncrasies, foibles, loopholes, creepy urge to use a gamut of synonyms, advantages even. Why? Peep into my life.

1) At 22, I am an Engineer from MU (look it up) in EXTC (ditto) with a decent, if not pleasing resume. I got placed in the 2^nd company to bloody come to my college, annulling my eligibility for any other. Oh, the icing on the cake, it’s perhaps the last company to give it’s joining date! (which, for that matter, hasn’t been received! Won’t be any time soon, either!)

2) I have so much time to squander, I am sick of it!

3) Now the best few parts! I can play guitar for hours on end, the only bother being of the neighbours’ patience breaking down.

4) Today, skipped dinner, slept at 9 pm, for no particular reason and am up at 1 am writing this.

5) I get ample opportunity to realise change in exam pattern of Sunday examination before anyone else! (JMET has had a major pattern overhaul people! True Story!)

6) I am up to date with Prison Break and HIMYM. Catching up on Chuck.

7) I get to drive dad’s car way more than my own!

8) I listen to Megadeth, Judas F Priest, Pantera, Metallica, Iron Maiden all day long!

9) I take time to find butterfly patterns in the clouds! (Ok, this one is fabricated.)

10) I dream about graduation gowns and hats, although I haven’t quite ensured my entry into a B school, let alone start to cope up with it.

11) I am looking forward to jan mid! Why? A big mega hugoid guitar jam and equipment inspection from the comfort of my home! A possible equipment addition too! A new guitar student! Free time I can actually waste creatively with a clear conscience! Rhapsody. (not so sure about this tho) Petrol price falls! (Hmmm, never actually been bothered by that tho. Remember the 800 ad, “Ki karan papaji, petrol khatam hi nahin honda! :P) And life in general!

Well, all’s looking up, True Story! It only has to get better! I’m all geared up! HeeHaw!

For all the right reasons

2008-12-10T18:59:00.000+05:30

Man is the sum total of all his life experiences; good or bad; life changing or otherwise. Every next moment is the by product of the life lived so far. And every now and then comes a moment when one takes a decision, has a realisation, that something then is happening for all the right reasons. In light of his life lived so far, this is so pure that it epitomises perfection. For once, you like someone, for the right reasons; you hate someone, for all the right reasons; you take a stand, for all the right reasons. It may seem life changing, for the better ofcourse. This is the one thing that becomes the primary provider of joy and satisfaction.

It may not be so though. It may lead one to a dead end. But is it that important at this moment? For this gives the strength to be noble, to live to the fullest and to achieve the previously unachievable. The rest shall all be, well, history.

Have you got a smile card?

2008-12-07T15:02:00.000+05:30

Excerpt from an interesting article I read in the Sunday Times.

“at CST station, a woman approached him for change for Rs 100 to buy coupons. Sreedhar asked her where she was headed and gave her railway coupons instead. She didn’t quite believe him when he said he didn’t want any money, but accepted the smile card as a good reason. “Everyone must be doing these things, but it’s about doing them consciously and notching the deeds up a bit,’’ he says, giving the example of the time when someone asked him for directions. When the man appeared confused, Sreedhar volunteered to show him the place instead.

The reactions, of course, vary from open stares to quiet disbelief. Like when he paid an auto-driver Rs 100 instead of Rs 60 and told him to keep the change for the next customer. “When he asks, give him this smile card,’’ Sreedhar told the driver, but the driver refused to take it saying the “customer won’t understand’’. Despite his reassurances, the driver remained stubborn. But such things don’t deter Sreedhar, who is confident that such acts are the only ways to start an effective dialogue for peace and harmony.

As someone who regularly organises student visits to Kashmir to encourage dialogue between

India

and

Pakistan

, Sreedhar feels strongly about issues like the Amarnath land controversy. The naive ways employed by politicians there remind the rock fan of a song by the band Extreme which talks about “your side, my side and the truth’’. “They all want the opposite party to change which is never going to happen. You have to change yourself,’’ says Sreedhar.

He has changed too. “I can now approach a security guard or a sweeper without any inhibitions,’’ he says. People like the Sindhi man who vowed to plant one tree each day in the nearby mountain in Himachal Pradesh 20 years ago, are his idols. Friends find his dreams idealistic, but “cynicism is too easy. The essence lies in action,’’ says the Gandhian. Leaning against a wall with a poster that says Moksha, Shreedhar says, “I agree it’s a slow process but if I smile at 14 people today, at least ten of them will pass it on and multiply it.’’ His pay-it-forward math is not all wrong. At the end of the interview, this reporter, who did not have to pay for her hot chocolate, smiled at at least ten people that day”

I was pleasantly surprised to read this article. It’s so refreshing and even reassuring that people, though in minority, sill think like that and are taking actions accordingly. I wouldn’t adopt his method totally, but I am in a way motivated to act in a similar fashion. Well, Mr. Deeds is usually looked at with suspicion, but I guess it would be worth it, for that one successful time. I do believe that such micro-measures could make a big difference.

What's in a name?

2008-12-05T15:09:00.000+05:30

NAME

[neym]
noun, verb, named, nam⋅ing, adjective

–noun

a word or a combination of words by which a person, place, or thing, a body or class, or any object of thought is designated, called, or known

But in the current context, I would rather concur with the Urban Dictionary’s definition:

NAME

A meaningless word assigned to you that lets people judge you before they know you.

Your name's Weniger? What a sh*thead!

Well, I have been part of a band for three years during college. We weren’t quite committed, atleast I wasn’t. But we did perform regularly on stage. I guess this was the only thing still holding us guys together as a band. But one peculiarity about my band was, we were never named! Why? Good question. Let me try to answer that…

1) We never gave it too much importance.

2) When we did, it didn’t seem to be much important.

3) Go back to para 1, sentence 2.

4) Go back to point 1.

5) When we did manage to break this chain, we never found anything good.

No really, naming a band is a huge dilemma. One wants a name that will take the world by storm. Something that will speak about the band more than they themselves can and something that will be all ‘The Band’! Note, my friends, such extreme cases of choosiness are a perfect recipe for disaster. True Story!

In my exploits to christen my band, I came across a few naming styles popular in pop culture…even otherwise. A few worth mentioning.

The ‘THE’ Era

This is a thing of a past, though we may still find ‘some stuck in reverse’ or ‘I can’t believe that 70s are over, so screw you, I’m still behaving like the 70s’ bands. It was in vogue to attach any mundane futile entity behind a petty ‘The’ to name a band. The greats have done it too. And it seems to be a magical success formula. For eg, The Who, The Doors, The Cars, The Toothbrush. (The Toothbrush couldn’t clean up their act in time and so didn’t get a record deal. R.I.P.)

We weren’t far from having more bands like The When, The Why, The Jobless, The Clueless, (girl band) The One-Track Minds (boy band) etc. etc. But thankfully, time heals and this era was officially history! Some tried to change the ‘The’ into a ‘Mister’, (Mister Big, Mister Mister) but this concept was, well, D.O.A! I decided to keep clear of these, both the seminal and also the corollary. Thank god!

The Self-Obsessed Band Leaders era

When an entire band is to piggyback on the name of just one prominent member, we get another one of this type. Well known examples are Bryan Adams, (Yup ladies, Bryan Adams is a BAND! Notice two guitars, a bass, drums and a piano/synth?) Bon Jovi, (two brothers, but still qualifies into this classification) Van Halen, (Ditto as Bon Jovi) Dave Matthew’s Band and post Dire Straits, Mark Knofler. There are many more, but I shall abstain from an exhaustive list for general sanity, both yours and more importantly, mine.

I thought about this one for a while, but realised that the rest of the band would be very keen on being members of ‘Anshul Bhatia’, or maybe ‘Anshul’s band’ or even ‘The Bhatia’. (hybridisation is so cool!) So this one’s out too, sigh.

Weird sounding Awesome names!

We have the Led Zepplins to the Megadeths ruling this classification. The names may/may not be of any significance to the band directly. For all you know, it may be the result of a random look into a dictionary. Some may be randomly constructed and have no meaning at all. But usually, these are awesome! We didn’t go much there. Dictionaries are so uncool!

Astrology, Greek Mythology, Strange names, etc etc etc.

Mysticism adds novelty and the oomph here! But be warned, a more known name could create a sense of ‘wannabe-ism’. And I guess the world agrees that Mars is way to pedestrian to be taken seriously, so is Eragon, but well, atleast it would be great, if it hadn’t been for the novel. The only celestial names I could recollect were Titan and Phoebe. The Titan, well, would not stand the test of time and the Phoebe, well, the Phoebe only reminds one of smelly cats. And with or without LOTR, Frodo Baggins wouldn’t have sufficed. So tread carefully. We decided to skip this altogether.

B Grade movies

One of India’s top metal bands-Bhayanak Maut was actually named after a B grade movie of the same name as a joke. But the band decided to stick with it! Hmmm, we seriously considered this, even with our merger knowledge of B grade movies. All that we could come up with was Reshma ki Javani, Balbeer Pasha and a few others that I can’t remember. Won’t do…

Frustrated with all the classification and still not hitting gold, I decided to take direct influence from bands I had heard about.

The Big M’s-Every newbie metalhead has to grow up via the Metallica road. Ditto with me. But as soon as I discovered Megadeth, I was a reformed man! But yes, I like them both, and still do. So I decided to adapt a bit of both. So we could choose from Megadellica or Metadeth. Hmmm, we chose neither. I guess Metakixx went down a similar road.

Pantera-UBER COOL! Spanish for a panther! A perfect name signifying not subtlely of their speed and power. But we didn’t know and Spanish. AND we couldn’t find any animal that would represent us….hmmm.

Iron Maiden-Strictly OK. This is one of those, no-meaning, no-reason kinda names. We could go with Metallic Lady or Fauladi Aurat, but we’d have needed to be way, way more insane than even Twisted Sister to pull this one off.

Dimmu Borgin-Let me be frank. I have never heard these guys ever before. I don’t know anything about these guys apart from the fact that they are huge! The name seems to be some native combination of words. But alas, all that I could of was Pappu Pager with this kinda influence.

Children of Bodom-Children of BOREDOM. Done, next.

The list was huge. But not one successful ‘up-lift-ment’! But there was one particular incident that we can this close to having a name. (I’m holding mu thumb and finger 1mm apart, so you can appreciate how close.)

This was 2^nd year, I guess. For Aakarshan. I was still not a guitarist good enough to perform live, so I was the lead vocalist…hmmm, that was the time I could actually sing well. (but not what I actually sang, mind you.) Nipun-hmmm, well, he was guitarist cause, well, he wanted to play the guitar on stage! (Sorry Nipun,, we all sucked majorly then! :P) And for the forst time, Aditi (BE then) wanted to play drums. Adi joined in on bass. So there we were-a Band! We realised that with Aditi passing out in a few months, we’d never play again. So we called ourselves One Timers! It was a joke ofcourse…well, so was our performance! I mean what will you get if I start to sing Marilyn Manson? Muahahaha!

Anyway, we guys got together again next sem, without Aditi ofcourse. But this time I was the guitarist (thakfully) and we had Manas maan as the vocalist (yeahea! \m/) and Chakku as the drummer. A great line up and we were actually better! But for me and Nipun, this was our 2^ndtime on stage together. So there we were, The Two Timers! And we never adopted it, but we never really replaced it either. So I guess, The Two Timers it is!!!

The Circle of Life: Souvenir from way back then

2008-12-04T18:19:00.000+05:30

I have had a very uneventful childhood. Many would even call it boring. School was a priority, straight A’s was a norm. I had little interest in play/sports/TV. It was a happy childhood, nothing that leaves me wanting something more or anything differently, but uneventful; yes.

However, there is one memory of my childhood that I remember quite vividly - finding Dad’s old music collection. I would have been 10, 12 tops, then. And there it was - a few dozen tapes of music that my dad used to listen to when he was about my age. (Good, all my music is on a hard drive that will probably not be retained/won’t survive till the 10^th birthday of my offspring. I wouldn’t want him/her to run into it at that young an age, no sir! I don’t know what might happen of him/her!)

I started listening to the tapes. The music was old, right from the 50s to the late 70s. Very diverse and quite vast. I gorged up on a diet of Abba, Boney M, Bee Gees, in particular as they were dad’s favourites; and scores of other artists I had never heard of and have never heard of them since. Even dad didn’t recollect many of them. But these were the days that lay the foundations to my versatile taste in music. Of course, I have retained little of that music as my favourites, leaving perhaps a bit of Dire Straits and John Denver, but really, it was this that shaped me, musically.

I still have those old tapes with me. Most them so worn out, they’d just snap if I tried to play them. Others, which just would play. All these tapes lie neatly in a cabinet with a defunct cassette player of yesteryears, never to be used again. So there it is, one generation of music, lost in time, never to be found again. Alive only in my mind; and part of my memories.

There is one particular song that I remember quite clearly even today. I know nothing about this song, not even it’s name. I tried to look it up, find some information about it, but I guess internet archives only stock up recent information. I like to call this song, The Circle of Life.

The Circle of Life

Where have all the flowers gone?

Long time passing.

Where have all the flowers gone?

Long time ago.

Where have all the flowers gone?

Young girls pick them, everyone,

When will they ever learn,

When will they ever learn?

Where have all the young girls gone?

Long time passing.

Where have all the young girls gone?

Long time ago.

Where have all the young girls gone?

Gone to young men, everyone,

When will they ever learn,

When will they ever learn?

Where have all the young men gone?

Long time passing.

Where have all the young men gone?

Long time ago.

Where have all the young men gone?

Gone for soldiers, everyone,

When will they ever learn,

When will they ever learn?

Where have all the soldiers gone?

Long time passing.

Where have all the soldiers gone?

Long time ago.

Where have all the soldiers gone?

Gone to graveyards, everyone,

When will they ever learn,

When will they ever learn?

Where have all the graveyards gone?

Long time passing.

Where have all the graveyards gone?

Long time ago.

Where have all the graveyards gone?

Gone to flowers, everyone,

When will they ever learn,

When will they ever learn?

-Yet Unknown

A New Beginning

2008-12-04T18:08:00.000+05:30

A big Hola to everyone useless enough to read this! (Yes, I love my friends, no matter what!) Well, I am back, in print, yet again! This being my third/fourth (I never kept track) blog, I guess I have a tendency to lose interest. Lesse how long this one lasts. Hopefully longer, this time.

PS: For all out there trying to associate my blog with plagiarism, ‘Anu Malik’-ism, lack of creative names or just blatant theft, I have had a very similar name for all my blogs since a little over 4 years! This one had to be a tad bit different, but yeah, it does preserve the essence! And yes, ALL MINE! Mind it! :P