Bizarre Frequencies

Farewell notes

2006-12-02T15:24:00.000+01:00

The English below is archaic. Dont read, but grunt.

I kissed the angel of darkness and death embraced me. Always was I, spotting dark spots in bright light, perfection I asketh. It wouldst not perfect, ne’er. Raised my soul, strained every nerve, thine perfection to remove, brick by brick laid I. Around me, I wrought mine walls for aye. Four walls, one roof, no windows, sith blood-sweat-and-tears. Perfection saw I- darkness, thus unflawed and unerred I troth. Thence appeared in my house, the angel of darkness, thou wast pristine. The house of perfection. This house is dark and dreer, doth no light shines from far or near. Sick was the angel lest yet blest. Sewed by synthetic happiness thine, angel, disturbed was my perfection. Cede I my heart, for what, ken I not. Angel, I dint no harm, I fey myself. I laud to scribe thee life, thee laud death. Didst mine foray mere tragedienne. Yet who the hell was I to dare? Wondrous grief groweth in my spright. Prest to death my eyne ween. Quaint thee angel, poureth thine love. Driegh’d I hold thee, forgive my yore. See egal, only darkness. Slow poison calleth. Farewell angel. Still, daringly cling I on to this sinsyne. Hauthy I am now, for thee angel, quell. I, the master of tragedies. Angel, riddance synthetic happiness, willst I dwell in scorn. Riddance me. Every time thou chidest, not I but. I beg, do na chide. I beg, quit synthetic. Doth the wecht burthen thee? Then bethink thine afterthought. Angel, don’t destroy thyself. ‘Come not to this couth evil, lest to a devil thou wilt translate, my angel. Come to me hell´s funeral, I shall cure . I let the angel go. The angel left, suffer me to transfix thee. I travail in my house. Darkness perfection. O god! I built no house, it’s a tomb. Angel left, O darkness, don’t leave me.

I wanted to write something multi dimensional in my last post. Im good at writing tragedy so it here it is. Yes, im quitting, may be forever. I guess this is my last post. Lot of stuff happening in my life. I know not where I am tomorrow. Of late the blog has become disturbing and been difficult to manage this place too. Kindof lost the drive. Better quit than being irregular. This space has given me many things, and taken away stuff too. Ive made friends for a life time here, a very special one too. You know who you are. I make no promise. I may come back. But it will take time, a lot of time. All the best to everybody reading this. I feel a little hurt to detach myself from this space, but I should do it. Amigos, Adieu!

These are a few of my craziest things!

2006-10-27T01:16:00.000+02:00

I am still alive. Lots of things happening around me and the lost enthu kept me out of writing. If u just sighed, thank a friend of mine who kept visitng this page and pushing me to update every day.

Some notes on few of the craziest things i´ve been doing in my absence

Roller blade to another country after the sunset, lose breath and call a friend to claim adventure.
Sleep and get up at all weird hours. 1 to 4 AM, 3 to 7 AM and once 5 to 11.30 AM to mention a few.
Party the whole of sunday evening, get to work directly from the pub and manage it with that just-got-hit-by-a-truck look and hiding bad breath with mints and the likes.
Crash into the ladies wash room escorting a drunk girl, witness the litter of the ladies room for the first time and just manage to escape without getting mugged.
Spend as much has seven hours talking and listening; timing brain storming, hogwashing, debating, argueing, almost everything.
Making and fulfilling promises that i ever thought will do.
Agreeing to cook carrot halwa for 10 desi´s on diwali. Getting started with all guns initally, screwing it up miserably and then reverse engineer to what went wrong, further undergoing a rigouraous process(2.5 hrs) fixing it; finally celebrated the triumph with reverberating accolades from my peers who got lucky to get it melt in their mouth. Divya, this is for you.

In short, its been one hell a ride!

Music: So jaoon mein- Woh Lamhe

The Recluse

2006-09-23T16:56:00.000+02:00

This is a monologue that I had written some tens of months ago. There was a monologue competition at the english club here last month, and I sent my entry. I won a prize for this. My faithful old readers might have read this on my old blog.
I never lost friends untill recently. I lost a friend a couple of weeks back. As in, I opted to unfriend myself for us to be happy. Today lost another friend. Was at the recieving end this time. I guess im meant to be a recluse, all my life. A recluse in a whirlwind. Read on....

With roof on top, he sits on the steps to play a game with the pillars. They say you sit, I would run. This is our game. What's there in a game? After all words. He picked up the straw and whipped in the air through the words. Little did he know that there were swords? What was he doing there when the baton of word symphony had twirled? I think he was sitting on the creaking chair and trying to rhyme with the howling wind. A cup of courage, twenty six letters, two hours and an inch of confidence is all you need to win a war. There is at-least more than one letter every minute. When he steps his foot on the ground, he quivered finding his quiver empty. The inch missing. Like a ball of hydrogen burning itself to death, burning itself to darkness. And no re-birth. Long walks, Meditation, Pshychedelia, Venting and Isolation. He has tried everything, every trick. Nothing has worked. Its not that here is no translation, it's just that there is absolutely nothing to translate. From Krypton to Xenon, he was robbed of his periodic table, also the tunes of jingle bells. Trillions of words scribbled on paper, etched on the rocks, painted on metal. He could jab only six. Why? Why did you take away those words? Rather why didn't you give me those words? Which gods and holy spirits reverted a due? He closed his eyes to imagine a closet when he had kissed victory. He saw darkness. He sieved the sand through his eyes. Pitch black. He gapes into it, searching for pinch he can bisect his prayers and rip apart his doom befallen in darkness. He bumps on the darkness, strangles it, kicks it to bust it. He opens his eyes, he gets busted. The darkness had rescinded the light. Standing by the mirror he sees the truth. He hates his eyes for what it sees, for what it has done to him. Withdrawn he wandered, terraced and drowned in a lake. He stares at his reflection and this time feels better. His image shattered he thinks the ripples have hidden the truth. The giant truth led him into the darkness, left him in the darkness and swallowed him in the infinite darkness. At his fate, he waits for the baiting sound of a knife cutting through a kraut in a vast expanse of infinite silence. He thinks that sound echoes one note, and the only one to the the pillars that have ceased to refuse. Drooling pessimism, I ask him to burn. Is that a only was to burn darkness? Little by little, bit by bit, even the tiniest bit of shred he burns to abandon the black, darkness encroaches him. He had shunned the world and built a roof with four pillars. Now raved in confusion he breaks the pillars, stands alone roofless. He rots anyway. Let him rot alone.

A Love Story

2006-09-07T02:07:00.000+02:00

Note: I have been pushed by a couple of bloggers (u know who you are) to write stories after they read The Meeting- II which I wrote for Viewer. I´ve tried to change my style here. Have made it more Karan (Gay) Johar type (though I hate his genre of movies). And dont tell me I didnt caution you. It might be a little romantic, senti, blah blah. The story is fictional but some instances and characters are quasi-true. Dont ask me who are the characters and what are those instances cuz imnot gonna tell you. They are highly confidential and demands secrecy to be conserved.

Deeply buried sometimes underneath the sheets scribbled of dynamic chemical catalysis that shelled organic equations which extended beyond lines and carelessly drawn valence triangles and acceleration charts that intercepted these equations, he sat hunched on his swiveling chair moving his right thigh up and down rigorously. He shrugged for a gentle tap on his shoulders, turning his head around elevating swiftly. His eyes light up and eyebrows popped stretching themselves. It was her. He jumps out of his chair, “What are you doing here? How did you get in?” he bewilders.
“Watch your clock dear!”, she exclaims with in her Malayalam accent while he rolls his eyes to the right bottom corner of the monitor. “15.47!!!? I’m so sorry, didn’t keep a count on the time” he says astound. Gathering all the scatted sheets, he stacks them up randomly and hurriedly amused of having forgotten a date, puts them on the corner of the desk, shuts the computer down. “I’m really sorry”, he apologizes. She acknowledges with that broad smile of hers, batting eyelashes.
Locking the door behind him “Who let you in?” he asks again. “Knowing that you are the sole species who works on a Sunday, your watchman was safe and generous as well to let me in”, she teases him ruffling his hair.
“So where are you taking me”, she sounded excited as they step into the car.
“I want you see this place, a thirty minute drive from here. A green mile. Away from the Bistro’s, the marble floored metropolis, and the mankind. Do you mind?” he gurgles the benzene into the engine igniting it. “That would be wonderful. This is our last date, and the greenery would leave us all for ourselves. Im sure we would have lots to talk” she wonders. He slips his favorite CD into the system, “Night Swimming” plays. Neither of them talk, they know they want to but waiting for each other to give in. She knows it’s the last chance, the last hope, she knows she is miles away tomorrow in an alien land learning international media and communications from and with the race she doesn’t know. She is worked up for the moment, not for what tomorrow has in it’s devour. She feels the inertia, opens her eye and turns around. “Here we are” he smiles at her.
Snapping the door behind and walking through the pebble road, “Were you encountering life shunning the surroundings when I knocked at your door earlier? You never responded till I tapped you”, keen know what he saw under those sheets.
“If you term sequencing the amino acids and extracting the chemical structure of the p53 proteins as life, yes life had embraced me out of consciousness” he sounds semi-conscious.
Now they stood at the point, and as far as they could see, stretched the vast and empty lush green steppe. The shimmering stream of air kissed her cheeks pink. Covering them with her bare hand she was astound at the sight, unable to thank him for the moment and the scenery. They settled down on the grass, sitting beside each other they wanted to talk the evening off etching it in their memoirs forever.
“Isn’t it strange? We know each other from a month. And in this short span I yearned for you, your love and admitted it to you many times. I know you don’t love me. I still yearn for you. Here I am sitting with you for the last moments. Isn’t life strange?” her lone tear fell prey to gravity.
He felt crude. Without her permission he laid his head on her lap and those tears passed off into the thin air and her fingers clawed into the grass at the touch of skull on the gentle flesh. She wanted to cradle his head in her arms.
“Life is quite itself, its we who make a hell out of heaven or a heaven of a hell. At the end of the day everybody wants to get back to the Valhalla. Life is Silence, loud, deafening, cold, tired, horrid, torrid, pleasant, wavy, naïve, bitch, I would term it as white noise. I don’t love you but right now life is us, live for the moment” she smiles at her.
Picking up courage, she runs her fingers through his hair as though lulling him to sleep. Career in media had poked her personal life pins and needles, had punctured her relation with her ex-boyfriend. She had slept with him and he knew it.
“Even when you are not around, your memories linger in my mind and creep into my persona. Its hard to escape you. The pain of the heart, naïf yet hurts so deep that I scream out loud and I weep in silence. Sometime I imagine moments that never happened and cling on to memories the never exists. As you said there is more to life than this strange obsession, beyond this horizon there might be a dawn. But I don’t want to see beyond this horizon. I don’t want the sun go down today. Why is that I cant escape loving you?” her tears flow crushing into his forehead, into his cheeks. He doesn’t move an inch.
“Love is a mask of light. It needs two hands to remove the mask so that the light comes in. Its darkness today. I’m sure you will find that hand that would join yours and remove the mask. When that moment in time shall come, the arms of the clock will unwind, time shall stand still, the moment will encapsulate a lifetime in its arms. Love doesn’t have a dimension, love is life, love is death.” His heart goes out for her love, yet helpless.
“What do you know about death? Death is dimensionless too” she wants an answer.
“Atleast in my case, death has a dimension. My mother was allergic to certain carcinogens. She had an enzyme missing which broke those carcinogens. I’m allergic to them too, especially salts of hydrazines and hydroxyanisoles.They are mutantly toxic to me.” He said enthusiastically.
She laughed back and forth, “Thank you for entertaining me with those names you big brains. I know that you are one of the leading bio-chemist-research engineers at the NCL. Accepted. Death may be dimensional. Can you kiss me to death this last evening together? Please, kiss me to death” She sounds desperate and her lip thirsts for the touch of his.
He knows she really wants it. She knows how hazy her tomorrow at the International school of media is, and he knows how transparent his tomorrow beckons him. Raising his head he reaches his palm behind her neck, pulls her close to him and gives her the deep passionate kiss she yearned for, sucking her lips, chewing them to bleed, that kiss that is bound by life, love and death. After delivering the desired kiss, he lays his head back on her lap and closes his eyes. He knew he had poured life into her through the kiss. What she didn’t know was her red lipstick had butylated sodium hydroxyanisole. He never opened his eyes. Blood spew from his mouth. It wasn’t him, it was she who had just kissed him to death.

M for Mom; M for Marriage

2006-08-31T23:36:00.000+02:00

Im the perfect example of a Mamma´s boy!
As per mom´s wishes on ganesh chaturthi,

I should eat NO meat(=chicken)
NO bewda-pan, thatz no alcohol... not even a drop of spirit! (which means no pub hopping - no socializing on friday evenings)

So I have taken an oath - Violating the above is a sin and I shall stand by the word I´ve given to my mom, who means the universe, the life( and death), everything to me. Ask me to jump off a cliff, I´d do it for you mom.... I love you!... This is a pic with mom during my sistersmarriage. Isnt she beautiful?

Ok... wipe your tears off and and lets talk about the other M I mentioned in my title....

I was generally going through my archives the other day and found this...

Carefully read the last comment on this post http://mullangee.blogspot.com/2005/09/getting-tagged-seven-things.html

Now whoever wrote that, are you listening - I am ready ;) !

Music: Scorpions - Holiday

Lets Play Taggie Taggie Taggie

2006-08-24T01:44:00.000+02:00

During my random blog hops, I found this tag. Being a Music Meme, I was so excited reading it that I decided to take it myself. So, Im doing what Nithya did once- tagging myself :D

Rules of the game: No Indian, Icelandic or Japanese music. No instrumentals. All information valid through the last couple of week, hence not much thought, and all rankings/lists liable to change without notice or fanfare.

My Top Five Most Heard Songs of the past few weeks:
1) Sympathy For The Devil – Dave Matthews Band
2) Last Resort – Papa Roach
3) Cassandra - Theatre Of Tragedy
4) The Man Who Sold The World - Nirvana
5) More Than Words - Extreme

Top Five Feel Good/Cheer me up/Anti Depressant Songs that I can think of:
1) Hotel California - Eagles
2) Riders On The Storm – The Doors
3) Graduation Day - Chris Isaac
4) Shine On You Crazy Diamond – Pink Floyd
5) Always Take The Weather With You – Crowded House

Top Five feel like shit/Life sucks/Ultra-Depressing songs of the moment:
1) Rasputin – Boney M
2) Careless Whisper - George Michael
3) Discotheque – U2
4) Ma Baker – Boney M
5) Life Wasted - Pearl Jam

Five funniest songs in living memory:
1) Johnny go - Jimi Hendrix and B B King
2) Fuck Her Gently – Tenacious D
3) Why Does It Hurt When I Pee? – Frank Zappa
4) Brave Sir Robin ran away - Monty Python
5) Actually All Monty Python Songs

Top Five Chick Songs as of now:
1) Thank You - Alanis Morissette
2) Beauty On The Fire – Natalie Imbruglia
3) Turn Back Time - Aqua
4) A thousand Miles- Venessa Carlton
5) Bring Me To Life - Evanescence

Top Five Romantic Songs I can remember:
1) Casablanca – Bertie Higgins (A must listen)
2) Making Love Out Of Nothing At All – Air Supply
3) Killing Me Softly – Perry Como
4) Still Loving You – Scorpions & Hello – Lionel Ritchie (I had to mention both these songs)
5) I Don’t Want To Miss A Thing - Aerosmith

Top five Songs with the Coolest Names:
1) Several Species of Small Furry Animals Gathered Together in a Cave and Grooving with a Pict - Pink Floyd
2) Falling In Love Is Too Hard On My Knees - Aerosmith
3) I Don't Like The Drugs, But The Drugs Like Me - Marilyn Manson
4) Atermelon in Eastern Hay – Frank Zappa
5) Smack My Bitch Up - The Prodigy

Top Five Awesomest Cover versions on my current Most Played:
1) Stairway To Heaven (Led Zeppelin) - Jana
2) Riders On The Storm (Snoop Dog) - The Doors
3) Smells Like Teen Spirit (Nirvana) – Tori Amos
4) Knocking On Heavens Door(Bob Dylan) – Eric Clapton
5) Communication Breakdown(Led Zeppelin) – Iron Maiden

I´d like to tag Nithya, Pramod and Divya ..... U guys should take it up.... its real good fun!

_________________________________________________________________________________________

Nithya is on a spree, tagging people, tagging me.... henceforth .....

I am thinking about • how to solve the forward dynamics of an RSS stucture…

I said • “I drew those because I was lil confused as things weren’t working and needed a break”, to which my boss replied “I took that pic as a token of encouragement, now go and draw more”.

I want • to get into a lecture hall and do a Walter Lewin, which is pass 10,000 volts through my sodding body through a vendergraph and demonstrate the class that how unlucky they are to still see me alive!!

I wish • my mom would come and stay with me here!!... and spank my brown arse whenever I hogwash stuff.

I hear • “Deisel Power – Prodigy” on my earphones

I wonder • if I will ever get out of this RSS-problem solving technique shit hole that I am in.

I regret • dude!!.... Cutting 36 cm lush long hair to 3 damn-ding-frigging-dong centimeters!

I can’t • eat my dinner without seeing a TV show; peacefully sleep without having been logged on to the messenger atleast once.

I am • indignant, fuss-ball, bustle, exhorting, trotted-obedient, gourmet, admiral, occasional gluttonous, foiled, occasionally swearing to improve my vascular properties, prostrating, sphincteral, sniggerer, nefarious, gawdawful tripe who will die one day and either be burnt to ashes making the bottom table of talakaveri or eaten by rodents when buried under the ground.

I dance • I vaguely remember when I last danced… yeah about an year back at a discotheque with a chick who was deaf!!! … btw, for those who don’t know, i´ve been semi-coached in bharatanatyam :D

I sing • ask Nithya (for all those concerts we´ve gone) and Viewer (I rapped to her on request) on my singing skills!!.... If u ask me I sound terrible even as a bathroom singer.

I need • a kick on every part of my anatomy that lent itself to scrutiny and change my brains!

I cry • No… boys don’t cry ;)

I make • my laundry, vacuum my apartment, put myself to sleep and wake myself up, wash my own undies, cook what I eat, eat what I cook, and make my dirty dishes myself too …(and that’s about all I can make)

I write • Because Im made to talk german 24-7 and my worst fear is forgetting English which is on the verge of coming true. Finally I may endup qualifying for not knowing any language.

I confuse • myself and others when im blabbering… how often have u been confused?

I miss • Mom… Bangalore… the morning walk with grandpa, the bowling alley, bike rides, everything that I did in Bangalore this time!

I will • try to multitask better, screw n unscrew without dropping the damn spanner cracking the floor creaking the hall!

I should try • composing music again… *sigh*!!!

I tag Prasad, PV and Chandu- Comeon gang, take it up ;)

_________________________________________________________________________________________

I told you that somebody is on a tagging spree.... here goes one more....

Rules of the tag are:

• Say who tagged you
• Say eight things about yourself
• Tag 6 people

Tagged by Nithya

Hmmm….eight things about me….

1. I’m a major insomniac and nocturnal… Find difficult to sleep beyond five hours, and these few hours are buckled with night-horses and mares.
2. I like biggish cameras; that’s when I get the feel of photography.
3. I can spend a lifetime in front of the machine, with or without chores.
4. I’m incredibly restless, cant stay locked at my home in Bangalore …...i need to out there hitting the roads and the chicks.
5. Am getting fidgety now… too many tags taken at one go.
6. I want to go to Djibouti wearing a Hawaiian shirt with Bush’s twin daughters alongside me dancing to the tunes of Lambada with a serpent tied to my neck.
7. My name is Anjan…. A for- not apple, its Anjan…. Remember Jab AN aur AN ke beech….
8. I don’t wish for myself the truly mortifying end that comes from humping the officially foist secrets act at some funny angle to my ribs of nimble-toed formication in my never-profaned-by-light-corridor-of-life !! – let me know if u understood this.

phewww!!... the tag is finally done-dana-don!

I tag…. Sweety, Sophie, SM, Akanksha, Preeti and Kishley.

Achtung palmists!!

2006-08-18T17:13:00.000+02:00

Yeah people, This my dirty palm scaned after assembling a mount to test the robo leg that I prepared at the test-stand. So please see beyond the dirt and grease sticking to my fingers(thats the reason i used a plastic below if u´ve observed) :D. Go, on and read it.

Those who know and not know palm-geography, everybody are encouraged to read it, deliberate and bless my past, present and future :P

Have a great weekend!

Knowing Preeti

2006-08-12T17:46:00.000+02:00

Long long ago, but not so long ago, i had promised Preeti to write a post on our encounters. From complete strangers four months ago we are one of the coolest good friends today. The first time I spoke to her on phone she threatened to eat me up for having been in the city for two weeks and not having called. We decide to meet up the next day and subconscious gets into an estranged superficial simulation of a boss. Being the brave soul I am, I ask her to get A (anonymity intended and asked for) to get a cover, but hear that A has other(/better ;)) plans. I was late and I knew that. I was asked to look for a girl in a pink top eagerly displaying my khakis and a blue sleeved adidas. A girl in a black top walk towards me blushing and weaving looks. Totally confused I point my finger towards her “Are you preeti?”, and she grunts “No im A”. I turn for a tap on my shoulder I see a simple girl with a black salwar and my eyes still looking that pink top. We introduce ourselves and head towards “Ballal Residency” where preeti had promised a treat. She turns out to be sling shot backfired to what I thought she would be. Didn’t utter a word, and it was all of me n A doing the talking. On insisting her to talk, she utters a few like a miser. After making the pretty women walk the street for almost an hour we settle in a lounge and preeti is still silent. I call her that night to apologize on being a bad company but she insists on meeting again. I meet her again with A at my nephews naming ceremony. I didn’t realize they were around for a long time and when I see them, this lady opens her mouth and says “Anjan, you the busiest person in this hall. Carry on, we are comfortable”. Couldn’t talk anything else with them that day. She was the simple, serene, soft spoken executive till she encouraged and assisted a prank if u want to read it. Like the way my eyes couldn’t believe Greece winning Euro 2004, I couldn’t believe my ears- it was preeti who possessed potential to such antics. Nevertheless we meet up yet again (alone this time) and preeti talks and talks and talks and talks. This time a monologue from the other end. And ya, I get a gift from her; Lord Ganesha sitting in a mantap and now it’s a part of our guest room in Bangalore. It was a fun ride on successive phone conversations and meet ups. From being a simple girl to a notorious prankster, nagger and a critic, the biggest miser Ive ever come across, she has been all the bad things. At the same time she is has been very caring, practical and serious. I wouldn’t forget the last day in Bangalore, she helped me buying and carrying the ready-to-eat food packets, getting other things done, getting ma rucksack from my aunts house, I wouldn’t have packed them without her as mom n sis were sick. Thanks a bunch preeti. And yeah, I was the elite special person to get to know that she was getting married and the rest of the gang got to know much later. We kept it all secret till her engagement. Today she is happily married to Moons (that’s what she calls him ;)). A wonderful friend, a charming personality, she loves her family, treasures her friends and now a complete woman (aka aunty- sorry I had to do this). Its been pretty amazing knowing her from a simple shy girl, to a prankster, to a friend, to a friend in need, to a close friend, to a married woman. Lets wish her a wonderful married life ahead and she will surely rock.

PS: Ive been telling preeti that I´ll write this from 3 months, pheeew!- finally I did it!

Tit-Bits from the last few weeks

2006-08-08T23:24:00.000+02:00

Last week an impulsive oldie in me decided to get retro. I landed at work with a cotton kurta and jeans. With an unshaven beard, gelled hair and sleeve folded till elbow I looked like a Hindi news paper editor. Now I have a French beard and have been looking like a scientist who has lost himself finding something. If guys don’t do all such non-sense, they disgust me.

Yesterday evening I set a new record for myself. I was handling SIX messenger windows parallely - Give me an award!

I found that the best buddy on everybody’s YM has been the Stealth; include me as I run for a cover.

A Greek friend of mine is acting weird lately. Dinner invites, meeting up for tea-time-talk on weekends, the moment he sees me- starts exercising his jaws and I my ears. We used to hate each other before, and I still. I only hope and pray he hasn’t turned hetro.

Weekday meme – get up, brush, shit, bathe, travel, work-eat-work, travel, conservate, chat, die, resurrect, repeat!—life sucks!

I deliver this after considerable orkutting. Women are subtle. They don’t know what they want. But men!?, they are obvious. They know what they want. Its women. Call me obscure, or call everyone else a moron.

Right now this popped up… Why isn’t written language like spoken language? Why don’t we write like we speak, and speak like we write?- Wager gotta be pulpified!

Music- Crowded House - Always take the weather with you

Tagged again!

2006-08-01T16:26:00.000+02:00

I had been tagged by Nithya on the 12th of April….. and had convenienty forgotten about it. Thanks to Preetika who shook me off my grave amnesia by tagging me again.

1. Were you named after anyone?
Yes. Lord Hanuman Im told.
2. Do you wish on stars?
No- Never
3. When did you last cry?
Feb 12th- 2005
4. Do you like your handwriting?
No ways! I lost all my marks (esp history) because of my crabbed handwriting
5. What is your favourite meat?
For me, meat = chicken !
6. What is your most embarrassing CD on your shelf?
I don’t believe this – some CD of JLo – yuckk!!
7. If you were another person, would YOU be friends with you?
You must be kidding
8. Are you a daredevil ?
Hell ya!!
Proof of my daredevilry:
- walking around in a t-shirt at sub-zero temperatures!
- giving a thought to a career in music
- encouraging and assisting a preteen couple to elope at the age of 10!! My parents were made to visit the school and I was grounded for I dot know how long – beat this!!
9. How do you release anger?
Punch the wall, go at him/her all verbal, hold my breath till I nearly pass off, sometimes just sleeping it off.
10. Where is your second home?
Used to be my college canteen and room number 6 in the computer science block....*sigh*
11. Do you trust others easily?
All the time!!!
12. What was your favourite toy(s) as a child?
GI Joe and Heman – totally kicked ass!
13. What class in school/college do you think is totally useless?
school-good; college – better and useful for all useless things. Class?? Ive never heard of it… have you?
14. Do you use sarcasm a lot?
Its cool only sometimes.
15. Have you ever been in a mosh pit?
I lived in bangalore for 24 years. What do u think!?
16. What do you look for in a girl?
Dumbness, sense of humour, intelligence and no identity issues please
17. Would you bungee jump?
Hell- Yeh!!! It's in my list of 'things to do before i die'!! :)
18. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off?
Naah- never!
19. What's your favourite ice cream?
A choclate and malaga scoup on a cone at Del Negro which costs me a mere 60 cents :D
20. What are your favourite colours?
Black and Blue
21. What are your least favourite things?
Deadlines and yash chopra genre movies!
22. How many people do you have a crush on right now?
None!
23. Who do you miss most right now?
Mummmmmmyyy!!! (… just read a scrap from a friend ive started missing “our place”)
24. What are you listening to right now?
Huming of the chip cooler of my computer and my collegues mouse clicks
25. If you were a crayon, what colour would you be?
Black
26. What is the weather like right now?
Pleasent!!! 22 degrees!!!
27. Last person you talked to on the phone?
Anu… she was all excited and jumping driving a porsche carera…. I could heart her heart beat!
28. The "first" thing you notice about the opposite sex?
Her figure. I am sorry, call me a chauvinist… but I am wee bit crazy about the female figure. For me you maybe the hottest chic in town, but an inappropriate figure just aint good enough!!
29. Do you like the person who sent you this?
Ofcourse I like them both!
30. How are you today?
Unshaven- With this current look, im not surprised if they mistake me for a saadhu from himalayas.
31. Favourite non alcoholic drink?
Choclate milk ofcourse :D
32. Favourite alcoholic drink?
Hafferweisen and Port wine
33. Natural hair colour?
Black.
34. Eye colour?
Dark brown.....almost Black.
35. Wear contacts?
No!
36. Siblings?
A darling sister… happily married
37. Favourite month?
Winter months!! (I absolutely love snow!!)December - love the spirit of christmas and new year...
38. Favourite food?
Chindi chitranna kallekai beeja! And anything mom-made
39. Favourite day of the year?
Nothing like that… weird question this!
40. Have you ever been too shy to ask someone out?
No- never! Im shameless! (but yeah… I didn’t have the balls to ask someone out before I came here)
41. Scary movies or happy endings?
Scary movies!
42. Summer or winter?
Spring or Summer!Winter!!!
43. Holi or Diwali?
Diwali!!!
44. Do you like your name?
Sure- I hope I do! But I hate it when these germans pronounce it wrong!
45. What book/magazine are you reading?
No time for books right now! :(
46. What's on your mouse pad?
Dude! I use an optical mouse!
47. What did you watch on TV last night?
I don’t have a TV … anyway I watched an episode of Seinfeld on my computer.
48. Favourite Smell ?
Petrol – Kerosene :D
Food smell on a hungry stomach
49. Have you ever regretted breaking up with someone?
I don’t know!
50. Most tiresome thing you’ve ever experienced/done?
My stints here in germany that still ticking!So thats that!!

Shtupit, does this this beat your almost four month long procastination?

The Summer Tunes

2006-07-25T17:27:00.000+02:00

UPDATE: Please donot figure this write up to my once-disreputable-past-now-paling-into-anaemic-sickening-honour-pushing-my-completely-disgusting-present-profile! Not all parts of this post impose my deeds (rather dishonourable in thought and deed). Of late I´ve known that a lot of matured-nonmatured-people who dont know me-who know me-yet not know me-17 year to 45 year- read my blog. I wanted to delete this but i decided to keep it. If u think talking a little raunch, sleaze, sex is forbidden, then dont read any further- halt. This might be a taboo subject to you! Most importantly, I DONT CARRY MY LIBIDO ON MY SHOULDERS. I might be a twerp but not a sexist-ego-centric-bastard. Ive written what I and everybody who have their retinae intact have seen. And its not that I go in search of naked-minimal clothed women. I am yet to visit a table-dance-joint in the neighbourhood and amsterdam which is an hours drive, while every graceful sob on this earth fly-drive miles to visit these for the sake of concupiscence. I shall do it if and when i need to. I had to write these in red after a confrontation and debate on what ive written with a cousin, a friend and a person whom i dont know at all. And those who have already read it and sighed a disgust, thanks for coming over again. Most importantly, I dont blog for everybody!

Summer has been brutal this year. After fighting the Indian summer, I’m yet to survive another summer: The European summer. My sweat glands have been working over time. To learn that cool breeze is blowing over Chennai doesn’t make me any better. The Bangalore summer was much better by leaps. Which ever retard said Indian summer is the knife edge *sigh*. I’m sitting here, in front of the machine bare chest with only boxer shorts covering my skin. The sweat trickles past my sidelocks to the chin. My armpits drip. The diaphoresis continues. This gets worse over the day. The infra-red part of the ultra-band from the sun starts heating the ground as early as 4.30 AM. Yes, you have read it right; the sun rises at that time. This relentless phenomenon of radiation gracing our peripherals continues to hyperbole till 11 PM or 23.00 hrs!!!! Which means we are spared only five-n-half hours of no sunlight!! The assault takes the toll at around 7 in the evening (that’s roughly fourteen hours of sunlight burning things up), and my table clock promptly ticks past 7.15. If at all you want to drive back home from work, open all the doors of your car as soon as you get to it, start the engine, stretch your arms to the climate control and switch it on full throttling the blower and get out of the furnace. After 2 minutes, close the doors and meanwhile send an SMS or play a game or take a peek at the long legs that extend below the mini-shirts. Now you can get into the car and drive home without getting mashed by the superheated greenhouse gases.
Amidst all these, one thing that gives me immense pleasure is the chicks. They walk around with those snazzy minimal clothes, displaying the newly tanned thighs and bare skin as they pull men towards them like moths to a flame. I step into the bus everyday to see the chicks sit with artful carelessness that one can visually measure how deep their cleavage run. If you get a seat and sit down, within seconds you can pick a girl and say which color panty she is wearing effortlessly. And your eyes are on a feast if she had decided not to wear one.
I have to walk through a very popular park called west-park to visit a friend (I was living in the same building before), and I did that a couple of days back. I enter the park and tens of bare tits glare knocking my eyes, inviting them to take a peek. The clothes go off as the sun set in – welcome sun bath. It saves your pockets; tanning centers are pretty expensive. When I was new to this country, I used to get embarrassed walking past them, saving and enhancing the image believing it to be indecent to look at them. Later I realized I was the only dud who did that. Now I derive pleasure of walking past that mob. Okay, let me stop it here before I get more raunchy. I haven’t treated my readers with such kind of writing before. All the hidden summer slumber just came out and I didn’t refrain. Sorry people. All you guys enjoy the monsoon while I get barbecued under the sun. Thanks for surviving my hyperbole.

Music: Mozart- Rondo alla truca

PS: I procastinated this post over a week. So please map yourselves respectively.

Thank you!

TOIIIILETS!!!

2006-07-12T18:53:00.000+02:00

This was at a resort that i visited near bangalore, its green valley restorts if im not wrong (cant remember cuz i visited a couple more :D) !!!
I, along with my cousins couldnt resists ourselves from a tummy ache!!

More tummies roll!!!

Done with fever

2006-07-05T04:03:00.000+02:00

The whole country fell to silence and i could hear it. Germany lost to a better team creating history. Italians were the first to beat germany in Dortmund, a feat that took 71 years to achieve.I have been following FIFA from when I was a kid, i´ve know people who were following football from years. I still remember the 1998 world cup when Zidane surged into heroism to defeat Brazil and take away the world cup. If im not wrong the matches used to start at 1 AM, when me and my uncle used to sit up and see each and every match. I had daily tutions, where u could find me happily dozing to dreeamland. Get criticized and yelled by my mom for not having attending the tution. The football virus surely was kicking my blood vessels never gave an ear. I was all in support for France and he, brazil. I celebrated the victory then, while the brazilians let down my uncle. I could see in his face frustrated, and depressed he was to see his boys lose, and today i am all frustrated and depressed to see my boys lose. Uncle has been supporting Italians this time and this loss goes to him. Im sure he will be celebrating at the other corner of the world.

Coming back to the match, the germans didnt play to their potential....

The first draw back was Frings having asked to sit out cuz of the penalty. We surely missed him. Kehl was no-way a replacement for Frings.
The start had always been the key for germans. The germans known for their attack, got it back from the defense-strong team. Italy fiercely rushed trhough germans the first half.
Podolski, who is contesting for the best player of the tournament couldnt find his leg. He wasnt picking the boosts properly and dispelling either.
Substituting Schweinsteiger for Borowski was a lame-ass idea. Schweinsteiger is a much better player than Borowski.
Repeated errors from Borowski in passing, kicking, and picking the ball and tag a yellow card for the foul he dent.
The germans just couldnt clutch on to the boosts, rather could i say they gave bad/untakable boosts.
A fatal error made by Ballack before the half time might have costed a goal. He failed to charge in to an uncovered area. If at all, it would have been a lollypop.
One more from Podolski, he missed an easy header sending it way wide.
All the wrong men were in the right places. Freidrich got to shoot two and missed them, and Schneider a couple.If it were Klose or Podolski, they would have popped atleast one.
Substituting Klose was a bad idea. He was making some terrific passes and was at his peak, as has been right through the tournament.
The germans could resist the Italians for the 119 minutes mostly because of Phillip Lahm, he defended beautifully.
The Italians were unlucky to hit the post and the bar. Technically, they deserved those goals.
Pirlo had elastic legs on rollerblades today. He powered the ball right from the word go. His lighting passes and attempts, the way he cut through the german defense deserve apalauds and was rightly named the man of the match.
Gilardino´s substitution worked like a knife in the butter. He dispatched all his enegry but was unfortunate to have missed a goal narrowly.
The attacks as soon as whistles pscyhologically helped the Italians boosting the confidence.
Grosso and Zambrotta covered the germans tactfully, snatching away the possession.
All the substitutions made by Italy were forwards. That was brilliant. You wont substitute two midfielders like the germans when there are no goals scored. Asamoah was a better choice to Odonkor, he atleast has the experience and has had a dream run in the leagues.
Totti was surging well ahead the D. That was a plus.
The only problem with the Italians were the offsides and bad passes over the midfield for the forwards. But what the hell, they won.

In the end its was disappointment for me so see the world cup dreams of the people around me die. A triumph awaited since 16 years. Their emotions guttered, and so did mine. I have got over, but these guys will take a while. I have never seen germans so low touching the deck. It really hurts me to see them like this, damn!! germany should have won. I know that italians would have mourned and have had same feelings if they had lost. Atleast i wouldnt have had a touch and feel about that. Anyway,germans have to be proud of themselves, they have had a dream run this world cup.The league matches that they played from a year has been mediocre.Inspite,our boys evolved from under dogs to the favourites, this itself being a rare feat. But spirit of the game is still conserved. Italians were better today, keep up the job guys!

Music: Dave Matthews Band- Sympathy for the Devil

PS: Sorry for all those who dont follow football. Getting till here must have been an effort and boring

Berlin.. Berlin... Wir fahren nach Berlin!!

2006-07-04T19:03:00.000+02:00

Which means, Berlin... Berlin... We are going to Berlin. To goal into the finals of the FIFA worldcup 2006 and not let the cup out of germany. This was the only tune that reverberated in my ear drums for the whole of friday evening along side the river Rhine in cologne. Football fever soaring high; the quarter final witnessing Germany take over Argentina, the two best teams that has performed in this world cup. It couldnt have got bigger than this.

Over forthy thousand people from all parts of NRW gathered at the giant screen bracing the german tri-colours, cheering the boys in white and black. The above pic captures less than one-third the crowd that gathered.

Die Deutsche mannschaft, fußball and weltmeister are the 3 key words that people are talking about in the train, in the bus, at the bus stop, in the offices, work station, while walking by the road, at the super market..... the fever is just there in the air and its terribly contageous. I have been hit vividly, starky, brutally hard by this and the mercury is soaring.

Just after the game started in the second half, Roberto Ayala who has played more than a 100 games for his team and only scored 6 goals, scores his most important goal at the 49th minute with a header from a corner shot.... the crowd goes dead. This pcture was shot just after the goal.

Everybody which included me as i painted the germany colours on my cheeks, was pensive... that lady with a Ballack T-shit was cheering for her hero. Klose rescues Germany in the 80th minute of the game with a header that turned into a score for Germany, we took a deep breath. That left the match to be settled by penalties, and it was Jens Lehmann who proved the hosts’ hero, saving from both Ayala and Esteban Cambiasso, while Oliver Neuville, Michael Ballack, Lukas Podolski and Tim Borowski all successfully dispatched their spot kicks past Argentina’s substitute goalkeeper Leo Franco. The game was an exciting one with both teams trying to advance to the finals but it was germany at the end who won out on the penalties.

Ive never seen sports-fanatic-crazy people.These guys integrate even the infinitesimals of the game. We stopped the test-benchs, the creaking machines, the running bios fans, ...... work, family, happiness, worries, solance, life, everything comes to halt here preparing to see the German players kick the ball.

I took a video from my friends digi-cam after germany kicked Argentina´s arse. Witness youself the football crazy populus!

If you cant see this video get yourself here

Music: Smooth Jazz - Slash - Spanish Guitar-Obsession Confession (Have been hooked on to this song)

RANTS!!

2006-06-23T18:18:00.000+02:00

My body has been a store house of germs. It kickedoff with bactermia a month back and now virus. Attached with typhoid due to the former, now its a viral fever with the later. All thanks to typhoid that I had to extend my trip in India.
With mercury level souring at 102 (or in flames) i have better reasons to feel home sick. Im mostly in somnolence with the help of the damn soporific drugs that ive been taking.
Ive been here for a week now; havent started work yet. I foresee an arse whipping-grinding-boring-milling-sawing-drilling-whatever weeks ahead. I need to talk to my boss, about lots of things- one major thing. Im just sodding myself right now. I need to throw away this detritus.
Im bugging people on YM, on orkut, everywhere. I just need to see them online that ive been humping on them. I sincerely apologise to all my YM-ites; and since i havent felt a bit of remorse yet, as a word of caution i suggest you to remain invisible to me. Or have you been persistent?
Had problems in settingup an account on orkut. It had screwedup my old profile which was going really fine and now wasnt allowing me to create a new one. Any google guys listening? And got pissed when my stupid friend who had written the first scrap and deleted it. I freaked!
I lost a whole set of pics of india. I dont know if it is misplaced or formatted without storing. It had my best friends wedding snaps, my long-hair, snaps clicked when my german friends visited, pics with Annie, ones with Nithya and Pranitha, Manju and Soumya, and most importantly my creative photography in capturing the paneer tikka.
I had been listening to desi music so much in india, ive temporarily lost my flavour for english music. Radio Mirchi and Radio City played it non-stop, i played them non-stop; and to complement that i content myself by listening to desi internet radio. But still RM rocks!! ... its sakkath hot maga.
For two months my mobile was givingout sounds like never before. Used to get either an sms or a call impeccably every 15 or 20 mins; which has put me into the rote of checking it every hour. Now my mobile is back to its rote of an alarm clock....*sigh*
I miss my everyday morning walk with my 77 year old grandpa, and the chess games i used to lose. We used to talk a lot of stuff. He used to teach me (or atleast make an attempt of teaching) life. But i couldnt learn, and nobody would until they age to his. And how I had to repress my tears when he told me that i was best among the grandchildren after what i did - nobody had taken him to movie theatre since 2 years. Oh yeah.... I should also mention about the girl i was checking during the walk.
Yeah..... the coolest and the most handsome guy ive known, Rishabh, my 8 months old nephew is not around anymore. We were an awesome twosome playing with eachother, putting eachother to sleep, dancing eachother. Leaving him was like leaving a piece of my heart back there.
The most I miss is my satellite aka mom. Satellite because she kept me under strict surveillance the whole of two months. I had to tell her where, with whom and why i have to go out and also tell her when im back, plus intermediate checks and getting yelled at if i come late without informing her before. And the phone calls... uff, she knows it if its a female and if i time more than 10 minutes, she would come, give that stare. But the satellite isnt satellite anymore. She is not there like before to sit me up and make me take the pill, maintain a log of my body temperature, give me the ice pack, touch my forehead and see how im faring. Infact when i had typhoid, she slept beside me till i was completely fit and i could feel her getup at 3 am, touch my forehead, cover me completely with the bedsheet and make sure everything is in order. Not once but always. She is the best MOM and i miss my satellite.

Music: Hum Hain Iss Pal Yahan- Kisna

Coming back to the square thing!!

2006-06-17T10:08:00.000+02:00

I landed(finally!!) to this so called home on wednesday evening. While I was sailing in air over thousands of meters above ground, was wondering what to call home. I would startoff a conversation with my folks in india saying `Back home..... ´ and the vice versa here. But then, I would like to believe that Bangalore is my "home" and nothing else. Thats where ive put my life all the time. Sometime its like prostitution, because we take something origional and honest and use it. But im back; back to germany to continue what im supposed to. Back home I had to share time with others, and now a 20 houred travel has turned the tables to isolation. Its like the characters have been disconnected and disabled. Its like how the artist has to breathe in when someone tightens a corset on to her and she gets used to it.

Sitting at the düsseldorf railway station and waiting for the train to arrive to get to my city, there was this episode. Flipping through the pages of a book i noticed an old lady sit on the chair next to mine. She asked me if it was english or dutch as the language wasnt quite familiar to her. That kick-started a conversation between us, while I also wanted to know how deep my german would have slipped after two months of absolutely not lipping a word of it. I had a rough start but it soothened after a while. With an english book in my hand and luggage stacked beside me she was sure that I was a brown skin from england who has come here to cheer their team for the world cup. She didnt know Indians spoke good english before i corrected her. Lost in our conversation thirty minutes passed by when we could step into the train. Inspite of me insisting her to sit comfortably in the genreal compartment, she accompanied me in the luggage room. I knew its a One n half hour journey ahead and she would have lots to talk about. She spoke about her life, renaissanse, husband, people, kids, womanhood and much more. We heard drums rolling and people cheering; a group of youth who passed through the compartment cheering for germany. There was a football match due on against poland that day. Football has been larger than life in this part of the world. I told her that I might missout on some matches as I had given my TV away. It occured to her that she had a spare TV that I could take and keep it for myself. She gave me her address and asked me to come home and pickup the tv whenever I wanted to. Between our conversation she reminded my time and again I reminded her of her son; I am being really sweet to her unlike the german youth. Being overwhealmed I told her this is the way we´ve been taught in India. It was fifteen minutes for our destination and she started digging her hand bag looking for something. She takesout a 50 euro note and slides it into my shirt pocket. Shocked and confused I didnt know how to react. Impulsively I gave back the money to her and told her that i cant take it. Not hearing a word of mine she told me that she would be really upset if i wont take it. She convinced me by telling me that she is giving it to her son who is living miles away in argentina, and not me.
I found all this so bizarre. Im just a stranger, a brown skin, a foreigner to her and the amount of love and trust she showed on me was truly overwhealming. Would you offer a televison to a stranger? Give your address and number and invite him? Bless him and give him money?

Music: Lamha lamha - Gangster
Mood: Home-sick ; Mom-sick :(

RISHABH it is !!

2006-05-03T10:33:00.000+02:00

He whispers those pretty sounds and how his mouth rounds like the sounds were made for his mouth and that sound comes from none other than my six month old nephew. He was named on 30th of April. Rishabh, yes his parents would like to call him Rishabh. So, all of you who were waiting for it, Rishabh it is!
He is so handsome, tiny, cute and dangerously addictive. Do find him here. Time flew beyond the mach numbers when I was with him, for twenty days. Day before my sis went to her husband’s for good( and so did Rishabh) and the house is all empty. Some notes on the time we spent together:

I danced him to sleep and the very next day he played me to sleep.
He “loved” playing with my long hair.
I sing him a Chinese song, he laughs, sputters on my German song, smiles if I sing him an English and cries tongue out on a kannada number.
A major break though: I taught him how to crawl front. Yeah, im the master and have been acknowledged.
We go for a walk every morning. He thoroughly enjoys his ride on the pram.

Im pretty sure he will grow up to become a rock star. He likes Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd and Linkin park (just like me). We listen to it every afternoon.
But my dad is his best friend. He is so happy when he is with my dad. They can play through the day and not get bored. Occasionally my sis and I get jealous for the fact of having known that he hasn’t cuddled either of us. He is sure of getting pampered. Such a charm to be with him, I don’t want to get back now!

PS: I will be regular now and shall keep updating!

Home coming

2006-04-06T15:36:00.000+02:00

Yes, Im coming home. Im coming to Bangalore, my city. I dint know that I would visit home so soon. Everything happened in a whisker and I had to make myself believe that I´ll be going to India in a week. Stepping my foot on my homeland on 11th midnight(rather 12th early), I hope to have a good time. It shall be a hectic trip as i would have to work from home too. I´ll also be flying to delhi (tentative date- 15th april) for a couple of days on an official visit.
Before leaving I have so much to do. Dont really know if i can manage everything. I guess i needed this trip.... Had to visit my insurance company earlier today, and by chance my eyes spotted the weighing machine when i was scanning the place. To my early morning shocker dose, I have gone down by EIGHT friggin kilograms in two months!!! The feeling of my negligence towards health in the recent times always ran through my subconcious but never knew it was so bad. I agree that i´ve been skipping meals, working late, sleeping less and also there has been this tension of getting things done and career been there. When I audited my body in front of the mirror, was convinced that I have physically gone down. Anyway, Im coming home and sure of getting all charged in this quasi-holiday, and come back, not with eight, but sixteen extra kilos!! My mom and food awaits me.
Another not-so-happening news is that my lambe-ghane-baal will be chopped soon; to be precise either on 14th or 15th april. After bargaining with my family, they will showcase my long hair for the first 3 days and then they´ll be mercilessly chopped. Please express your condolences.
Yeah, not to forget, I´d like to meetup all the bloggies around. Anybody in and around bangalore ? I know that prasad, preeti, nithya and akansha are in bangalore.... anybody else? Do get in touch people. Reach me at amullangee@gmail.com.

Im there too!

2006-03-30T00:45:00.000+02:00

Back in november 2005 viewer came up with a fiction titled The Meeting(Part 1). The only mistake she did was the bracket part, she shouldnt have had typed-in "Part 1" because she never wrote the next/concluding part. Most of them who visited her kept enquiring time and again for an update that never cameup. She told me that she didnt get the continuity and the drive to write further and instead she asked me if i could come up with the second part. Inspite of warning her that I havent tried anything of that sort, she insisted me on giving it a shot (I shouldnt forget to mention the emotional blackmail that i was put through... ;)). But before reading my side of the story, you wouldnt you like the first part here.
Please make yourself comfortable to get to viewer´s scribblepad to read what I have scribbled.

PS: I beg mercy ..... this is my first try!

Rewind

2006-03-23T00:26:00.000+01:00

Gentlemen and Ladies
Bald headed babies
I have before you
To stand behind you
I want to tell you something
Of which I know nothing

There was a fathers meeting
For mothers only
The entry is free
But pay it at the door
Take your seats
And sit on the floor

One fine day
In the middle of the night
Two dead babies
Began to fight
Back to back
They faced each other
Drew out their swords
And shot each other.

This was uttered by confused me on the first day of my new school when a teacher asked me on stage to entertain the class. After I promptly finished, i heard a roar of laughter, saw the teacher all curled up..... you?

Music: Caught in a web- Dream Theater

Copy Cats

2006-03-15T20:24:00.000+01:00

I´ve been a keen follower of Paki music bands. Strings and Jal have worked on construstive fusion with western gadgets with desi raagas. I like the hindi rock bands because of the classical touch they add in the finishing notes. I was reading an article in which some of the great indian singers and musicians expressed their unhappiness with the music directors encouraging pakistani singers and music into bollywood. One of them quoted that "this is a land thats produced Lata mangeshkar and Md. Rafi and with an abundance of potential still in store, we dont need singers and music from outside". I would have completely agreed with this gentleman if our own brains had spiked some creativity and not shamelessly flicked paki music, without acknowledging the credit. This has been happening from decades and has constantly been unnoticed. Atleast by introducing them, the origionality would be conserved. It just doesnt stop at paki, but there have been countless subtle and intelligent but sometimes, downright shameless copying derived from country, english classic, jingle, blue, spanish, italian, tribal, raggea, club, dance and even rock. All the music directors, when I say all, yes, all including the genius pancham, s.d burman, rahman,.. any name that you mention. Infact R.D Burman has flicked quite a few english numbers. But some credit should be given to these guys for being clever to latch on to the old numbers (some dated back to 1930´s) which no-one could findout. But some extra-hyper-eccentric-sided characters like yours truly still exist, who can dig into all depths. A couple of years back, along with a friend of mine I searched for these so called inspired songs and ended up collecting as much as 300 songs!!!!
I have compiled and compressed a selected few pakistani/arabic and other popular chori maal. They are in real media format that you could play them in real player. And for your convenience i have mentioned the origional one and the hindi name in the title.
Download paki ones here and others here.
Please stop plagiarism!

Music: Smells like teen spirit- Nirvana

The gods of guitar

2006-03-03T21:24:00.000+01:00

This week I´ve been discussing a lot about music and guitaring. Spoke to a few people who are a part of an aspiring local band, people who listen to and follow rock. To my surprise many didnt know much about what they want to do. What shattered me was their ignorance of the existance of the best bands. I know that people who read this blog are not progressive rock lovers, but have you heard of John Mclaughlin, Dream theater? No? They neither. The situation is similar to an indian not knowing who Sonia Gandhi is, and if you are a part of a band and still dont know, then i wouldnt be surprised if you dont know who Mahatma Gandhi was. Well actually I wouldnt blame them completely. Dream Theater, One of the greatest bands you've probably never seen just blew through town and you probably missed them. They don't have any number one hits. Radio support of their music is almost nonexistent. The only time you'll see them on the cover of a magazine is if it's a publication dedicated to musicians rather than popular music. So why is that they have a rapid fan following and many of the musicians in the more mainstream acts cite them as influences? It's simple, really: Dream Theater is a collective of musical deities. Individually, each of the members easily makes most "top 5" lists for being the best at their particular instrument. In terms of technical ability, they are second to none. They are looked upon as absolute masters of their craft. Mike Portnoy, the drummer has won the best progressive rock drummer award 10 years in a row!!! He has been a legendary drummer in the business. John Petrucci, the guitarist is considered as one of the best guitarist in the world. He plays the twin guitar effortlessly and you wouldnt even know when he jumped from one octave to another. Its really sad that after having achieved so much, they still have a small population of listeners, when the front row is completely taken by the not so talented popular music guys. When it comes to John Mclaughlin, the king of guitaring, he pushes the virtuoso musicianship by all parts and brings forward flawless technical playing.
Anyway, the last time I´d had a sensible chat about guitaring was with a friend´s friend who had comeover from Munich last year. He has a wide knowledge in guitaring, being a guitarist himself. A very interesting person to talk to and we came up with the "worlds top ten" guitarists.
They are (our version)...
1) Jimi Page (Led Zeppelin)
2) Joe Satriani
3)Eric Clapton and John Mclaughlin (we had to give them both the third spot)
4)David Gilmour (he is my Idol, he is my inspiration who made me fall in love with the guitar)(Pink Floyd)
5)Steve Vai
6)Jimi Hendrix
7)John Petrucci (Dream Theater)
8)Eddie Van Halen
9)Slash (Guns n roses)
10)Randy Rhodes

I feel like I still have missed out a many, just managed to restrict myself to ten.
If you havent heard them, please do it NOW. If aerosmith, coldplay, metallica, nirvana are humans then these guys are gods, atleast when it comes to technical!!

Music: The Dance of Maya - Mahavishnu Orchestra

I am psychotic.... are you?

2006-02-20T17:57:00.000+01:00

One simple answer to a not so simple question might be quite a resolute in realising if you are a threat to society. I am, and thats the precise reason for my country men to throw me out to this nazi land.
A friend of mine gave me this test over a conversation. A test to determine if you house the psychopath inside.
The Question: My mother died and at her funeral I saw this handsome guy among the guests who attended. Even the strong current of sorrow after losing the hands that cuddled me twenty long years that was flowing in my viens couldnot stop me from falling in love with him. After a year I killed my twin sister. Why do you think I did that?

Before reading further I want you to answer this question in the comment box. You can see the answer here.
Ahem ahem .... are you like me?

The bastard me

2006-02-16T18:34:00.000+01:00

Tim is a friend of mine, more so a student majoring in music, more so an amazing guitarist who own fingers as sharp as a knife that runs between the strings, and has a career oozing with fame and glory.
Picking up the phone `How is it going man?´ i asked, not really wanting to hear the answer. I´ve gone overboard with my admiration over the past couple of months and i knew that he was doing really great. With lots of things piledup, I wasnt in the right frame of mind for Tim, or to be more accurate, I wasnt in the right frame of mind to hear he´d had an excellent week.
`Great really cool´ he enthused. `You know we´d been demoing new material in Stuttgart for the last couple of months? Well, its all finished now: Just a little bit of polish and our first single will be ready to be unleashed. The press officer reckons we´ll create a buzz with it.´ `Yeah´ I said, trying to imitate sincerity but falling far short of the mark. I´ve always wanted to have a career like him, tapping away the world with my notes on the guitar. I can effortlessly measure the thick dirt sitting on my guitar in the corner of the room. Its beyond the bounds of my memory to recall when I pluck those strings. I really wanted to takeup music seriously but my conscious constantly reminded me not to be killing myself, putting all this energy into something so hopelessly futile as a band. Its not this where the genius of making money securely lay, and in my latest incarnation of what i am, it isnt easy to find out either. He was surely blooming into his music when I had faded out thinking that 1% of musicians make money and on the contrary 99% of engineers make money. So, I chose the easier way to bread a happy life.
`How are things with you and John?´ I asked.
`Couldnt be better, my friend´ he said.
He was lying. He and John, the key-board player had been fighting with alarming regularity for the last couple of weeks. He had told me about this earlier, and soon realised he might see a deadlock. Having not to embarrass him, `Oh,´ I sad casually, but not all that casually.
`Oh what?´ said Tim cooly - his interest piqued.
Now this was the time not to be complacent about it, `Fifteenth letter of the alphabet. Atleast I think so,´I said. I didnt need to say any more. My job was done, now that he wasnt quite smug anymore. He paused again, more than a little embarrassed, and fired a diversionary question intended to win back the point lost by my earlier volley. `So anyone new in your life?´ Whether I´d had someone new in life or not, felt like conjuring up the perfect women instantly, just to deny him the moment of self-satisfaction. However, as fate would have it, there was no need to break the truth when i knew that he had been recently dumped by his girl friend, so shot back ` Forget mine, tell me, its you who is happening. have you found anybody?´ He realised bending the safe escape he politely said, `lets not talk about it man. I´ve put it behind and have no energy to digin.´
I know I can be such an asshole at times. Its not him, its the time that he called wasnt appropriate. My mind was all clumsy with tons of work to do, having one leg on the ground and the other in the coffin.
Moral of the story- Foresee or predict my mind before messing with me. I can be a real bastard.

PS: Just couldnt gather my focus on work.... so this was was vent

Cocktail

2006-02-12T19:45:00.000+01:00

A) Its exactly been an year since I´ve started blogging (yeah, dont go by the archives.... i was blogging on another page before). Its been fun sharing my thoughts, my piss-offs, my passion, my music, and also it sometimes helped me to vent. I have found a world of friends through this blog, and some have grown so deep that i just cant think about sleeping without having a chat with them, even one-liners getting the nod. I havent met them in person, inspite they know me better than ones whom I dash into everyday. Thank you for virtually being with me always. This page has also put me out of boredom during the weekends and many evenings when i know not what to do. This page routes to many thoughts, musings, ramblings, expressions and hearts of others. I also need to appreciate everybody who have shared their two cents on my thoughts. Its been a roller-coaster ride.

B) Today is Nithya´s birthday. She has been counting every second for this day. Lets all wish her a very happy birthday.

C) I was late in catchingup with the Indo-pak series thats keeping many of them keen. When I was checking the Inzamam controversy happened to read this article. I actually havent seen how he was dismissed but from what I read, its the most unbiased bashing that a pakistani has written.

D) Yesterday I was blessed by one of the most memorable compliments of recent times. I was in a bus sitting in a four seater (the pairs facing one another) reading a recipe that i promised( a friend) when a lady happened to sit infront of me. After going through it I gently slipped it into my bag when I noticed she was a smiling at me and politely acknowledged it. She asked me why do you grow your hair(In english)? I was a little confused at her concern initially but recovered soon and told her that it was just out of passion; But why do you ask that, one in every 5 men in this city have long hair. She replied: Do you know that many women who have seen your hair would have cursed god for not having given them what you have. Myself being proud of mine have been sitting here and looking at yours from 5 minutes.

E) I grew old by yet another year day before. Bhumi was the first to wish me with a surprise and also the last one by wishing me before the clock struck twelve again. I was all excited to see my mom, sis and three month old nephew early in the morning on the web-cam. It was really sweet of Sheetal to join me for a late lunch (after making me wait for 2 hours). Otherwise it was very normal day. Yesterday a friend of mine made me a lovely cake, so it was like celebrating two consecutive days.

F) Lastly on completing an year of anonymity, I reveal myself. But beware before you accept it. This pic was shot just few hours before my birthday; after a long tiring day, my hair all haywire and a dirty bed. I showed it to my mom and she was on the verge of abandoning me. She called me a junglee, tarzan, what not. I showed it to my friend, she totally contrasted my mothers comments telling that I looked really good. You can have yours say. Check it here.

Once again......

2006-02-05T15:06:00.000+01:00

I have been a little busy, well .. errr..... actually had nothing to post, rather didnt feel like updating. The easier option was to self declare a break. Now, the easiest way to get back is take a tag and thats what im doing :D

I have been tagged by Divya and Preeti .
I need to write 8 points about my perfect lover.
Rules of the game are …
1. The tagged victim has to come up with 8 different points of their perfect lover.
2. Need to mention the sex of the target.
3. Tag 8 victims to join this game & leave a comment on their comments saying they’ve been tagged(Im breaking this).
4. If tagged the 2nd time, there’s no need to post again.

Sex of the target : Female
My perfect lover:
(1) Should be tall and have a good figure.
(2) Should have good taste in music,movies,books. Listen to my sermons on guitaring.
(3) Should be a chatter box(im a good listener).... should know that im there at the end of every road.
(4) Preferably long hair. But allowing me to meddle with her hair is of prime importance.
(5) Should have a good sense of humour, and take surprises, cuz im full of it.
(6) Should know when to boss over and when not to, at the same time give me my space.
(7) Should spare a penny to the needy (including me ... lol)(i know this doesnt quite fit into the profile of a dream lover but still i wanted to mention).
(8) Should love her family more than me ( thats how i can be assured to be loved after we become a family ;-))

Anybody who reads this and havent taken the tag can go ahead. But i want Gnextdoor and Viewer to strongly consider it.

Any claimers suiting the profile? :-D

Bad luck ho to aisi

2006-01-19T04:49:00.000+01:00

Poor Pakistani Mahmood Hamid, who was born today played just a single one-day international for his country, against Sri Lanka at Sharjah in 1994-95, in which he was run out for one. The man at the other end? That great athlete Inzamam-ul-Haq.
Happy Birthday Hamid miya.

Shucks ..... Bollywood sucks!

2006-01-15T22:08:00.000+01:00

I tried seeing two movies in the weekend. The first one- pathetic, Second- mother of all patheticism (my contribution to english dictionary).

1) Bluffmaster - Shamelessly flicked from a wonderful movie called Matchstick Men (Nicholas Cage). I the moment Ritesh Deshmukh tried conning Abhishek, I knew this was matchstick men. From then on, i predicted every move, every con, every damn character. I would say its a sin to compare Abhishek´s acting over Cage. There are a couple of flaws in bluffmaster, and if at all Sippy Jr had seen Matchstick men with his cells charged, he would have been smart.

2) Neal n Nikki- There we go, again chori maal, no one could have insulted "My Sassy Girl" better than whoever the director of Neal n Nikki is. My Sassy Girl is one of the all-time-best korean movie, a brilliantly made love story lavished with humour to the brim. When I personally saw the movie, was speechless at the sheer brilliance of the director. The movie struck the deepest strings of the heart. But, sadly Neal n Nikki has f*cked it up big time. I couldnt even sit through 30 mins of it. Unwanted, pathetic bollywood antics which are so mediocre even in dreams has been cheaply displayed (and im refering to the first 30 mins- i really dont know what he has made of it in the rest of the movie). Aaarrghhh.... the less i write, the better it is.

Bottomline: Instead of wasting money on such uselessness, donate it to charity, get yourself a decent lunch, or even go buy a booze or dozens of fags. But if havent seen matchstick men, may be consider bluffmaster; Neal n Nikki, dont even think.

My christmas vacation

2006-01-11T23:31:00.000+01:00

I spent my chistmas vacation touring one of the beautiful, wonderful,breath-taking, heavenly gorgeous, divine (does the bell ring divya ?) part of germany, the state of bayern. It was ten day long holiday, and i stayed at a very close friends place. I realised only the 10th day that, why she loves the place so much. Further, i will leave you with the imagery that talks a thousand words. Find them here

Falling in Love

2006-01-04T16:40:00.000+01:00

My trip to south germany was more prodigious than imagined. A comprehensive set of experiences and visits, surely did get refreshed mentally and physically. I would follow this up in the next post, but for now I put up something that I wrote on my way back from south.

He: (Stopping her way) Can you prove pythagerous theorem in two steps?, and dont use any equations or numerals.
She: (Pulls out a pen and stretches her palm scribbles a triangle with a square on each of its edge and refits the smaller two in the bigger one)(with a shivering voice) now please let me go,..... sir!

He: (barely trying to walk dashes into her) Oh!.... hi!How are you?
She: I didnt know that mechanical engineering was so lame that it gets its students to drowsily drip in sleep even after the class and sleep walk in the canteen.

He: This canteen is brightly lit, over crowded and not-in-the-least-bit-salivating. How about the restaurant round the corner?
She: I´ll drive you there and we will dutch.

He: Whats your favourite film?
She: This might sound a bit pretentious but I think film as a medium is nowhere near as expressive as a novel. Having said tha I must admit a distinct liking for Casablanca.

He: What did you think of me the very first time we met?
She: A bastard senior and a grumpy old sod who enjoyed ragging freshers, a totally wrong person to get an admission in the one of the best engineering schools, shameless enough not to let off the hook even after preparing a disconsolate face as a sort of protest.

He: Do you believe in platonic friendship?
She: No. Platonic friendship is the moment between when you meet and your first kiss. Don´t appalaud, I didnt say that.

He: What´s the weirdest thing you´ve ever thought?
She: If there are infinite parallel universes, containing all the alternate decisions i could have made, how my life would have turned if I´d not chosen engineering.

He: Its ok girl, things happen. Is there anything that I can do?
She: I wish if god gave you the super power to turn back time. Now slap me out of this.

He: Do you love me?
She: I love you so much that when I think about how I feel about you my brain cant begin to comprehend it. It´s exactly like infinity. I dont understand it it, but those are the limitations of my love.

Between the first question to the last was a period of about fifteen months.

Not at home

2005-12-23T11:10:00.000+01:00

I wont be around till new year. Im visiting a friend in south germany, and will be touring around in the black forest and the alps region. Lots of winter sports happening, and am looking forward for it. The first time i will be stepping my foot on switzerland.
Wishing everybody merry christmas and a happy new year!

The feel of words

2005-12-18T00:47:00.000+01:00

Im not sure how many of you understand punjabi. If you can, read on and feel it ...... (you can also listent o it here.... the 5th one). This is one of my favourite ......

layi vi na gayi tai nibhaayi vi na gayi
layi vi na gayi tai nibhaayi vi na gayi
maine maarda jahan mainoon sara
teri meri yon tut gayi soniye, jiven tutayambar ton tara
teri meri yon tut gayi soniye, jiven tutayambar ton tara
layi vi na gayi tai nibhaayi vi na gayi
layi vi na gayi tai nibhaayi vi na gayi

sochiya nai si mera pyar bhul jayengi
hoo, sochiya nai si mera pyaar bhul jayengi
aine chitte kithe hoy qaraar bhul jayengi .... qaraar bhul jayengi
dil mil ke bichhad gaya yaara
teri meri yon tut gayi soniye, jiven tutayambar ton tara
teri meri yon tut gayi soniye, jiven tutayambar ton tara
layi vi na gayi tai nibhaayi vi na gayi
layi vi na gayi tai nibhaayi vi na gayi

o.. sachcha rab rakha muh mod jaan vadiye
sachcha rab rakha muh mod jaan vadiye
dil laike mera dil tod jaan vadiye...... tod jaan vadiye
hay, dil tutya na jude dubaraa
teri meri yon tut gayi soniye, jiven tutayambar ton tara
teri meri yon tut gayi soniye, jiven tutayambar ton tara
layi vi na gayi tai nibhaayi vi na gayi
layi vi na gayi tai nibhaayi vi na gayi .......tai nibhaayi vi na gayi
maine maarada jahan mainoon sara
teri meri yon tut gayi soniye, jiven tutayambar ton tara
teri meri yon tut gayi soniye, jiven tutayambar ton tara

I gave you the words because the lyrics on raaga is bullshit; never knew such a reputed service would screwup like that, so wrote it on my own.

Birthday party Update: I screwed it up big time. Here is what happened (I decided on Kal ho na ho one).... after two successive takers, went up to her, she started blushing; though i would kneel, then moved against it, tried to look into her eyes (but couldnt.... as there were one thick, one not so thick layers of ophthalmic lens ), i set it up all in my mind and above, ..... "Mein aankhen bandh kartha hoon to ..... Phhhhbtttttttttt!!!!!!!!!!!". That was the end of it, I realised such a bad actor I could be. Anybody needs an audition?

Another One .....

2005-12-15T23:30:00.000+01:00

you're ross...even though you whine a lot, your
friends can see through it to the genuinely
intelligent and caring person you are on the
inside...usually.

which Friends character are you?
brought to you by

SRK Quotes

2005-12-11T23:14:00.000+01:00

Next saturday is one of my friends birthday, and this is what her husband has in surprise for her. She is a die hard fan of Shahrukh khan, apparently has seen all his movies from DDLJ. She has wept through all the times when he has been beatenup by the bad guys, or loses his love, or housed the villians bullets in his chest. She has refused to see the last 20 mins of Kal ho Na ho. She dreams about him virtually every day and her poor unfortunate hubby had to sit through nights when she would dream and scream, "Shahrukh, I love you". He has been her wallpaper and screen saver at home and lab for years. What more can i say... do we have a competition here?
But there is a competition up on saturday in the birthday party. Its an only desi party with lot of desi music, talks and recipe. So each of the desi should come with a SRK quote in mind and tongue. There woulde be a segment when each of us should go to her and deliver in SRK istyle, be as SRK as possible and the focus is to woo her and get her high on emotion (brave guy, i must say.... or wants to get rid of her?). Ofcourse, the best one walks away with a filmfare award. So, this weeekend i was jobless enough to make a search for his heart quenching dialogues and here i present my research..........

Mohabbatein
Ek ladki thi dewani si. Ek ladke pe woh marthi thi. Nazrein jukhake, sharmake, galiyon se guzarti thi. Chori Chori, chupke chupke, chittiya likha karthi thi. Kuch kehna tha shayad usko, jaane kis-se darthi thi. Jab bhi milthi thi mujhse, mujhse pooncha karthi thi, ki pyar kaise hota hai, yeh pyar kaise hota hai.

Kuch kuch hota hai
Anjali, hum ek baar jeete hai, ek baar marthe hai. Shaadi bhi ek baar hoti hai, aur pyar ..... kuch kuch hota hai anjali ...... tum nahi samjogi.

Dilwale Dulhaniya lejayenge
Mein tumhe chin-na nahi chahta Simran, mein tumhe paana chahta hoon. Mein aankh churakar nahi, aanth milakar tumhe le jana chahta hoon. Mein aaya hoon to apni dulhaniya ko le kar hi jaaonga. Ab to sirf doli ut-ne ki dher hai.Dilwale dulhaniya ko lekar hi jayenge, kyon ki badi badi desho mein choti choti baatein hote hi rehte hai.

Chalte Chalte
Meri aankhon mein dekho aur kehdo ke tumhe nahi lagta ke hum dono ek dusre keliye bane hai. Kehdo ke jab mein tumse door jaata hoon tum mujhe palat kar nahi dekhti. Kehdo ki jab main tujhe chuta hoon to tumhe kuch nahi hota. Meri aankhon mein dekho.... mere kareeb aao, aur paas, aur paas.

Kal ho na ho
Mein aankhen bandh kartha hoon to tumhe dekhta hoon, aankhen kholta hoon to tumhe dekhna chahta hoon. Tum paas nahi hooti to tumhe chaaro taraf mehsoos karta hoon. Har pal, har ghadi, har waqt, mere naina meri naina ko dhoondthe hai. Ise pyar kaho, pagal-pan, ya dil ki dhadkhan, ek hi to baat hai. Mein tumhe zindagi-bhar pyar karoonga, marte dum tak,.... aur uske baad bhi.

So my fellow bloggers, pick one from this or quote a better one that would make me locally rich and famous while i prepare for the screen test.

Heads or Tails

2005-12-07T20:11:00.000+01:00

Last few weeks have been very disturbing. What I thought would be a simple decision doesnt look like it. I have a career face to face and there are two roads, two very different roads that wouldnt converge. I have been contemplating over this from quite sometime with my mom and dad has just been a listener on either side. Burnt over which one is best for me and which one to pick, I mailed my dad and shook him to break the silence and speakout. Like a gentleman, he gives me this song and asks me download and liste. After a few mouse clicks, after a few pages, after a few broken links, when i listened to it, i was so touched, moved, and delighted over his silence, intelligence and everything.

You can download the song here , and if you are listening, do it along with the lyrics here

I have changed the template back to the old one as many felt that the new guy was a little confusing. I´ll stick around this untill i find a better one.

Brand New Look!!

2005-12-04T03:03:00.000+01:00

Firstly, I want to thank two people for this brand new look.
1) viewer who inspired me to change the look. She made a thorough search for a the sites that provides custom made templates for blogspot, as i was paranoid about the change screwing up my archives( thats what happened to my last blog). She gave me a hazar links, then we short listed and converged on a template. But, unfortunately it didnt sound happening when i put it up; so i switched back to the stock one. But thank you for all your effort and kick starting the idea. I hope you like this one.
2) Galnextdoor for changing my mind again and wraping the stock page. She gave me a new set of links but only some were custom made. I arbitly clicked on this page and i liked at the very first look. The screw up was, it was not for blogger. I had to go through the painful code, get to know it (and im html ignorant, that made it suck, even more), and make appropriate changes. But galnextdoor was there on a window beside almost throughout and keeping an update. I guess i would have givenup if she wasnt there. She made some valid suggestions and helped me select a pic and also converted the pick to black n white (i didnt have photoshop). A decent amount of credit goes to her for all this and ofcourse, tagging along.

Secondly, how do you like this template? I wouldnt have put all the efforts if it wasnt the one of its own kind. Had to alter quite a bit, make it fit to what i prefer, had to think of something innovative to change the plain dull look of it, and mann, its a pain in the arse if dont know the damn language. Its not difficult but what you need is patience which i ran out of. Yeah, i liked this one because it make you use a keyboard to browse instead of a mouse click (nostaligia .... those dos machines). This idea kicked me and i went ahead groping, but it worked. This might not be friendly to some, as most of us are pampered by the mouse. I agree its a little confusing to browse through, but doesnt it give you a mystic feel? Isnt this unique?
You can be brutally frank and tell me if its troublesome, i can always get back to the stock!

Movies and more Movies

2005-11-29T18:55:00.000+01:00

I have seen some very good movies over this month. I dont know for sure if it is a revolution in Indian cinema, the directors are giving some work to their brains or I have been missing out on good cinema.

Salaam Bombay

The history of the making of Salaam Bombay is almost as interesting as the film itself. The filmmakers gathered a group of the street children of Bombay and talked with them about their experiences, visiting the streets and train stations, bazaars and red-light districts where many of them lived. Out of these interviews emerged a screenplay that was a composite of several lives. Then many of the children were enlisted for weeks in a daily workshop, not to teach them acting, but to teach them how to behave naturally in front of the camera.
The movie dedicated and of the street children of Bombay, is of a 10 year old Krishna who comes to bombay to earn Rs. 500 and ends up whipping through the grimes of the bordellos of Kamatiputra. A wonderful capture of emotions when he waves across experiences of first love, disillusionment and death. Unparallel performances by Shafiq Sayed, Raghubir Yadav and Nana Patekar. Im surprised how I missed such a good one for all these years. For all the ignorants like me who slipped off this, do see it now to give yourself the feel of a coming-of-age movie.
PS: Shafiq Sayed, the kid and hero now is an autorickshaw mechanic in Bangalore.

Chocolate

This movie is neat, really neat and rocks. I would rate it as one of the better mystery´s of Bollywood. Though it is a desi version of Usual Suspects he maintains the crispness and never bores you. The movie is like a rollercoaster ride with lots of twists and turns, tossing between hitting the demons and angels; A thought process of a lawyer saving a bunch playing guessing game if they were the men with mask. The narration in the movie is good and the ending is not origional. Take a break in this Mallika Sherawat era and give it a look.

Anukokunda Oka Roju(telugu)

I always used to criticise my mom for showing interest in telugu movies. Most of them lack origionality, basically they all suck. But this one is exceptionally unique, sharp direction and an intelligent screenplay and its all origional. Its a story of a girl next door who happens to go to a party and gets drugged unknowingly. Things are no more normal after she getsup in the morning on her pallet. There is a taxi driver who supposedly has unsettled business, she sees a murder right in front, a friends brother tries to kill her. The story is all about unveiling the mysterious happenings that occurred on that night where she went to party. Each and every character in this film is carefully etched and with a purpose and the incidents are interlinked with an element. If at all you can understand telugu, you know which one to pick.

Kaadhal(tamil)

At once, my heart felt heavy, had a lump in the throat and I just didn't have anything to say. And I guess that speaks volumes about the film. The story line is a school going girl whos father is a rowdy sheeter who falls in love with a scooter mechanic, and this paradox of love get overboard with love through their journey. The film is a documentary on love with the realism that captures its fine subtleties, the nuances of body language and the freshness of life of two people in love and their bitter-sweet pangs of growing up and trying to live together. It is as close as one can get to real world. Not even for a minute you feel that you are seeing it on a screen, while the story takes you to the scences of tamil nadu. The freshness is because the two leads is enacted by two no-namers and the hero is packed with dirt and grease mostly. Tucked with amazing performances, its all worth it if at all you shed a tear drop or two, after all you have learnt the hard facts of truth.

My Nephew

2005-11-14T03:53:00.000+01:00

Thats him ......

He is 15 days old now, has learnt a lot and taught us lots as well. This is what my brother-in-law had to say about his son.

Sleeps all day and gets up in the night, just when my sister falls asleep.... practicing murphy´s law
He wakes up the neighbours too when he opens his eyes..... u want revenge? make him your guest
He is already clever; stretch your fingers for him to hold, he doesnt. But Roll him a hundred rupee note and get it near his tiny fingers, he latches on to it..... shabash mere jeeteh
Finds the comfort zone only in my sisters or my moms arms. The others try getting near him when he is in bad mood, you get it.
Already started demanding luxury. Put him on the floor, crumples his face; take him on your lap, he smiles..... my BIL is thinking of starting a side business now
Damn scared of my cousin brother. If at all he senses him in the remotest of distance, he starts crying...... they have named him shakuni mama
He loves water. Never cries when they bathe him pretty cool right, .. i´ve heard babys howl
Hates make-up. Keeps tossing his head when my mom gets the baby powder and other stuffs .... good boy :-D.
A big flirt. Has his eyes wide open when my sisters friends´ are around (most of them are unmarried)..... patha nahi jawani mein kya kya karega

Itseems he is a little bit of everybody in the family.

Sleeps like my sister.
Thickly featured like my brother-in-law (as of now... cuz changes are witnessed till 3 months)
Has my body language, and relatively long arms/fingers n legs/toes ( is very identical to mine, when i was a baby)
Sneezes like my mom (silencer fitted)

After a thorough study of his astological facts and figures and the rest, my BIL family priest cum guru has suggested his name to start from "Pu". Even after turning down the fight put up for a little more degree of freedom and flexibility by my BIL and sis, my BiL´s dad stands adamant.
So please suggest some pleasent and meaningful boy baby names from "Pu".

PS: the pic was taken when was 3 days old.

Here I am

2005-11-12T01:55:00.000+01:00

I still survive
in the whirlwind tour of life
losing the hug of your palm
elbows kissed in calm.
My little finger robed
by your fingers
shrugged my spine.
Like an achelmist
you placed warmth
on my survival.

Now
The saw slushes deep.
As these knives of ice
in the whirlwind
pierce through my eyes,
tears trickle down.
But i swear on you,
it doesnt pain.
It only pains,
when i hold my tears.

I still survive
like this!

music: Bombay theme - Bombay

Hair Update

2005-11-08T23:38:00.000+01:00

Finally im celebrating the challenges nudging my hair to what they are today. Its been exactly one year I´ve had scissors anywhere near my hair. Well, this is how they looked after a long hot shower last sunday. Arent they silky silky? and im really proud of them. They have given me numerous identities, variety of feel, multi-dimensional looks and most importantly they have kept me warm from winter. I always had this bit of adoration of long hair but never even in my wildest dreams i dreamt of these slapping on my shoulders. It started off with getting over depression of paying 9.5 Euros on a hair cut every month. Two months passed by, and i thought let me push it a few more days .... 3 months, what the heck?, ill get a hair cut this weekend. So on and so forth, i kept giving lame reasons to myself. But to be honest, it was really hard on me the 4th and 5th months. The transition period from lot of hair to long hair is really sad, it makes you look some ugly alien with a thick dark jungle above the forehead. But luckily that phase was a crucial peroid of my career when i had to sit in closed doors and work on it. So, the sun hardly saw me during that peroid and it was very easy as i didnt have to show my face to anybody. Once it grows over this ugly looking step, its easy. Thats when one can start playing with it, with a little styling gel to obeys all the laws you make. From then on, you rule. From then on i have loved my hair than ever before. From a typical indian, i started looking like an brizilian to few, and like a mexican to others. While some loved this look, some refused to see my face. To some its cool, and to some i looked much much better with short ones. Especially my family back home, i have stoped sending my snaps or switching my webcam on. Every conversation with my mom starts with "Anjan...... when are going to get your hair cut?". So, i wouldnt be surprised if i find a couple of barbers ready waiting for me in the airport on my next visit to india. Its been like the europeans liking my current looks and indians the shorter version of the hair. But honestly i dont care about looks, i have healthy hair (which many girls yearns for - silky, shiny and no split ends) and i want to tie it up.

Below are a few resemblences with a few known personalities at different stages as observed by me and the people around me (and its only with respect to my "hair", not the looks or personality or anything else)

Shahrukh Khan´s in Pardes
Shoaib Akthar (when i badly needed a shower)
APJ Abdul Kalam (in the worst phase)
Nagarjuna in Geetanjali
Purab Kohli in My brother Nikhil (well this is not the best pic that resembled but couldnt get a better one)

Shakthi Kapoor (Crime master Gogo) in Andaz apna apna (NO PIC AVAILABLE)

Mahendra Singh Dhoni
Prashant (a tamil movie star)- with long ones in the movie College gate (NO PIC AVAILABLE)

David Gilmour ( during his early years)

Vikram (tamil movie star) in Anniyan (just after a shower ... lol!)

Antonio Banderas (this is the closest I can get to)

Just Blossomed

2005-10-31T21:28:00.000+01:00

Yesterday was a very special day, to me and my family. We grew older, not in terms of age, but in terms of responsibilities, in term of happiness, in terms of content. My sweet sister put a step forward into motherhood. Yes, she is a mom now, and i get a "mama" tag on my collar. I knew it was yesterday and my mind was virtually with my family; was so restless untill i heard the news. The baby boy is active, healthy and seem to have sharp features. I heard him yell out to the world, a grim shrill voice, as his cry echoed all over the phone, and he was just 2 minutes old then. Lets welcome a new life to this world.
From then, my mind is often being drifted to the last time I have participated with my family. That was my sisters marriage. Almost five days of celebrations, new relationships in the making, re-union of families, laughter spread all around, and in the midst, organising, responsibility, service, and planning innovative enjoyment. I still remember it raw in my mind, the celebrations started the very next day i landed and had to get ready and prepare myself in the hush. I spent quality moments with my family and friends especially. In my absence all my friends had become so close to my sister and they were around for the entire week as a part of the family. Here are some memorable moments spent during her marriage that would never fade.

collage created with photoshop cs

History of Middle Finger !!

2005-10-25T15:53:00.000+02:00

Well, now......here's something I never knew before. I was sent this as a forward and I feel compelled to put it on to my more intelligent friends in the hope that they, too, will feel edified.
Isn't history more fun when you know something about it?

Giving the Finger
Before the Battle of Agincourt in 1415, the French, anticipating victory over the English, proposed to cut off the middle finger of all captured English soldiers. Without the middle finger it would be impossible to draw the renowned English longbow and therefore they would be incapable of fighting in the future.
This famous weapon was made of the native English Yew tree, and the act of drawing the longbow was known as "plucking the yew" (or "pluck yew"). Much to the bewilderment of the French, the English won a major upset and began mocking the French by waving their middle fingers at the defeated French, saying, "See, we can still pluck yew!"
"PLUCK YEW!"
Since 'pluck yew' is rather difficult to say, the difficult consonant cluster at the beginning has gradually changed to a labiodental fricative 'F', and thus the words often used in conjunction
with the one-finger-salute! It is also because of the pheasant feathers on the arrows used with the longbow that the symbolic gesture is known as "giving the bird."
And yew thought yew knew everything.

EIGHT CENTS!??

2005-10-19T23:27:00.000+02:00

Last weekend i was having a chat on a cup of chocolate milk with an Iranian friend of mine who lives in the same building.
After having quite some exchange of words about Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, and his extremism inside the government and the policy of moderation, out of curiousity this is what happened...

Me: What do you think about the wells?
He: Oh, there are many
Me: How many?
He: May be thousands. All you need is a bore to dig and a machine capable of doing it.
Me: You must be kidding.... you make it sound so simple..... but how deep are they?
He: A few hundred metres is good enough in certain feilds, but know that they are useless in that shape.
Me: And all the money in the politicans pocket
He: You bet man
Me: ya ... how much would it cost in the cradle?
He: 8 cents a litre
Me: WHAATTTTT!!?? a mere eight cents!??
He: Yes man.... you tank up your car in 3 euros if you were to drive it to iran.

I threw up!!

( And still cribbing ... the petrol prices have shotup to 1.4 euros here ..... how much is it there??)

Comfortably Numb

2005-10-12T05:00:00.000+02:00

If at all im in love with music, its because of Pink Floyd. I have been listening to Comfortably Numb everyday from quite a few days. The brilliant musical arrangements, haunting guitar solos, ethereal vocals and sweeping lyrics illustrate just why this band is considered one of the best in the history of rock music. Yet not only is the song an important number in the Floyd catalogue but it is also arguably one of the most important songs of those days...... and the words go ....

Hello,
Is there anybody in there
Just nod if you can hear me
Is there anyone at home
Come on now
I hear you're feeling down
I can ease your pain
And get you on your feet again
Relax
I'll need some information first
Just the basic facts
Can you show me where it hurts

There is no pain, you are receding
A distant ship smoke on the horizon
You are coming through in waves
Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying
When I was a child I had a fever
My hands felt just like two balloons
Now I've got that feeling once again
I can't explain, you would not understand
This is not how I am
I have become comfortably numb

O.K.
Just a little pin prick
There'll be no more aaaaaaaah!
But you may feel a little sick
Can you stand up?
I do belive it's working, good
That'll keep you going through the show
Come on it's time to go.

There is no pain you are receding
A distant ship smoke on the horizon
You are only coming through in waves
Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying
When I was a child
I caught a fleeting glimpse
Out of the corner of my eye
I turned to look but it was gone
I cannot put my finger on it now
The child is grown
The dream is gone
And I have become
Comfortably numb.

This one of the best songs ever written, and was co-written by David Gilmour and Roger Waters. There are a couple of theories about this song being inked. One says, Dave wrote it for Roger Waters who fell sick during a stage performance of food poisoning and needed a shot of adreneline to feel well enough to play the show. That is what he means by the lines ...
Can you stand up?
I do belive it's working, good
That'll keep you going through the show
Come on it's time to go.
The second one is, as it is very clear, about drugs. There was a major addiction in England those days (late 70´s i think), even Syd Barrett, the bands very own member was deeply drenched in dope and ruined his career because of it. Today he lives in ailment, disease ridden. This song was considered to be an alarm to everybody who seek drugs. Synthetic happiness, escaping pain through substances, I think a lot of people that have experimented with drugs can relate. When you just get overwhelmed by emotions and you feel so hurt that you would rather be numb than to care. They also made a movie "The Wall", derived from their album (the movie had all the songs) based on a young detached rock star Pink, caught up in the frenzy of the drugs and loses everything in despair.The music part of it is totally mesmerising and i lose my mind on David Gilmour´s guitar work, especially when he plays the slide guitar. The song has been picturised beautifuly and its the lyrics that spread the wave. This song and the album and the movie became so popular that people got inspired enough to giveup drugs. If not for anything, we gotta salute them for making a difference.

What is Mathematics?

2005-10-06T13:42:00.000+02:00

As usual, my desk at work yesterday looked like a war zone; sheets spread all over (some on the poor monitor too), a couple of books flipped to arbit pages, half eaten sandwich, my stabilo color pens lying everywhere (i like to work with different colors as its easy to distinguish between things). And I cant help it too, thats the kind of work I do. Imnot an Einstein or Feynman who workout equations from eternity. I need to refer books, look for whats appropriate, contemplate, derive some on my own, and extend it to my use case, and integrate them finally ( that by gods grace, if i dont get lost mid-way. Otherwise i need to press the restart button). So this sweet little angel (my boss´s daughter), Julia runs in and i dont notice because i am indulged in my own set of problems. She slowly looks over my shoulder standing on the desk behind me, and gets disturbed by what she sees. Those seems like alien notations, a sort of syntax that she hasnt seen before. Seeing my scribblings (which are vector differential equations, 3 dimensional matricies, and weird notations that we use in robot mechanics and vector algebra), she thought its all together a different language. With a confused look she asks me, " What language is this?". Surprised to hear the little ghost, I gently say, " this is mathematics. Im sure you will do this when you grow up". She runs away into her dads cabin and dashes in with a book in her hand, flips it to a page where the four basic mathematical operations(+,-,*,/) are described and illustrated with figures, and tells me, " Look, this is mathematics, not what you are doing". I sit there and nod my head like a loser.

Malèna (2000 - Italian) ... a review....

2005-09-30T16:50:00.000+02:00

I have never written any review before this, nor the thought passed by. But, being an Indian all my childhood and now, getting to read, feel, touch, brainstorm, argue and contemplate on the European minds and culture, I thought I need to write this. There was a hindi movie, "Ek choti si love story" that was inspired by Malèna, but it blewoff somewhere and nobody noticed it, such was the movie. But this has the magic of narration, world war, monica belluci (she truly looks hot, extremely) ,the kids fantasy ofcourse and more importantly the emotional touch drives the flick. This was my first take at an Italian movie.
On the raw, it is a story of Malèna(Monica Bellucci), a married Italian woman who is extremely beautiful. The whole town of Castelcuto drools over her when she walks by, but she is as true as one can be at heart and to her husband who is away to fight the war. There is the kid, one among them who loves her the most and never ever tells what he had for her. In the background, World War II begins. Mussolini declares war, while Renato( Giuseppe Sulfaro, the kid who is our hero) races through the town on his bicycle, stalking Malèna. She is the object of his desire, and he does not care about the rest of the world. Indeed, Renato still does not seem to care, even as an old man, narrating his tale for us in the form of a nostalgic look back at his first love. There were flashes of mixed emotions and opinions of the drama being shown while I was walking through the movie. At a point, I thought it is rediculous, showing such obscenity on screen, the zoomed boy bent on a lady who is almost twice his age, this fantasia that touched high valent degrees seemed unacceptable. The school going kids line up along the street to watch Malèna , who has “the most beautiful ass in Castelcuto,” stroll by. Our hero, our narrator, Renato watches her too, and his pants swell in response. Even more horrifying is the fetishism of surrealists, this kid imagines feeling her when she walks to him nude, kissing her when she down and abondoned by the society and asks her to give him some time so that he can growup. I throw myself from my chair, my inner self refuses to accept this. What the hell are they trying to show the world?? .... I halt the movie, my eyes closed I think over, how the hell can this happen at a tender age, and I forget that I am an indian for a while (or atleast the indian ideologies one owes to follow) , and thinkover gathering all my encounters that i have had with the europeans the last three years, and open my eyes in astonishment. Whatever they have shown is the naked truth and the darker reality. I have been pretty close to some europeans here and have known their minds and acts. It seemed to me that the line drawn by the director of the movie and he one i drew somehow virtually met. I continue the movie accepting the sentimental reminiscence of childhood, weepy and nostalgic trivialization of facism and reddish adolasence. Malena´s husband dies in the war and this shatters her already shattered life. She has no one to turn too, she cant trust anybody and she knows that everybody in the township are greedy wolves betting their lives to have sex with her. Every lady is jealous of her because of her beauty, and the fact that their husbands are bow bent on her. Now that she has left deserted, every woman doubts if she is sleeping with their husband and spreads rumours tagged with garbage on her character. But its only our school kid Renato who knows the truth as he spends most of his day following her on the bicycle and spying on her peeping through a hole in her house. Things get so out of hands that she has to fight a court case and her fat and blustery lawyer tells Malèna that it is time to pay up - and he rapes her. Later, it is the turn of a vendor who promises her to give food and in the end rapes her while Renato helplessly weeps seeing through the hole. With the modicum of embrassement, as Malèna’s fortunes, and those of Italy, fall, she dyes her hair blond and whores herself to the locals and Nazi officers. Indeed, Renato’s trip to a brothel (with his father’s approval) to finally relieve his sexual frustration over Malèna coincides with the arrival of the Allied forces in the town. In other words, there is no Fascist crime that cannot be fixed by a good screw. When the Allies arrive, the local women turn on her viciously, their long-standing jealousy turning to rage, beat her up and she is forced to leave the town. As the story takes a turn, her husband arrives with a missing arm to find his house turn into a refugee camp. Not bold enough to get face to face, Renato writes him a letter mentioning the truth about his wife and her plight. The story ends as the narrator(Renato) quoting, " I have made love with many woman and they have turned back and asked if i remember them. But the one whom I loved the most and passionate never asked".
At the end, I would have hated myself if i had stopped it in the middle. It has an exceptional emotional touch, reveals the dangerous Italian flitration with facism, answers question such as "does pornographic gaze and nostalgic gaze overlap?", the european hyperrealism and much more. But the only prerequisite - dont compare it or yourself with indian ideaology (not sure if its followed though) with this movie. If at all you are grownup and happen to get this movie, go see it !

Getting tagged ..... SEVEN THINGS.

2005-09-22T16:27:00.000+02:00

Im a sport when it comes to tagging. This time it was Divya

Seven things you plan to do before you die
1. To make all my mamma´s wishes come true.
2. Visit the 7 current wonders of the world (my count is 3 as of now)
3. Short term one - Finish the grilling project that im working on.
4. Long term - Build my own Robot or my own concept dream car.
5. To be a part of an authentic rock band.
6. To sit in Walter Lewin´s lecture hall (well... it would be kindof a dream come true to listen to him)
7. Chand tare tood laaon ... saari duniya parmein chaaon ... bus ithna sa khwab hai .... bus ithna sa khwab hai... !!

Seven things you can do
1. Sit in front of the computer for days together .... continuously ... no kidding here!
2. Not sleep for 70-75 hours at a stretch (i´ve done it...!!)
3. Sleep 18 hours a day (even this....but not at a stretch ofcourse) ... can be terribly lethargic
4. Skate (roller blade) from Germany (from my house to be specific) to Netherlands and Belgium ( done this too...!)
5. Have conversations with anyone and everyone (... like divya)
6. Smell hydrogen sulphide from a mile
7. Always find an excuse for not doing something...:-P!

Seven things you say most
1. Dude
2. Shit
3. Sheisse (shit in german :-D)
4. What the F**k
5. Ach so (German equivalent of I-see)
6. Seeti bajgayi
7. Huh!!?

Seven things you can't do
1. Cant take anything sarcastic
2. Cant play DTM with both my hands (its a German car race and people find it astonishing when i control the car by one hand but everyone use both their hands. Ive tried using both my hands but have always crashed)
3. Cant get to bus stop 5 mins early ..( i´ve been spotted running behind the bus and getting in just before the driver closes the door ... DDLJ style ;-))
4. There are a specific set of people to whom I cant say "no", be it anything.
5. Cant take a decent catch ( Im miserable fielding on the cricket ground .. buttery finger basically)
6. Cant stop laughing my ass off whenever I come across a pic of honorable president of USA, George Bush
7. Cant stop loving you (MUHAHAHA...!!)

Seven things that attract you to the opposite sex
1. Hair (straight long silky hair .... just like mine ... :-D)
2. Height
3. Figure ( most important *wink*)
4. Open mindedness
5. Good sense of Humor
6. Sometimes being witty
7. Talkativeness (Im a good listener .. i love the ones who go on chatter putter chatter putter)

Seven celebrity crushes
1. Anne Hathaway
2. Eva Longoria
3. Mary Pierce
4. Penelope Cruz
5. Nandita Das
6. Heidi Klum
7. Bhumika Chawla

People I want to tag…well, How about Pinks, Sadik and Silkymoon

Interesting..... Saturday Night (F)ever

2005-09-18T21:41:00.000+02:00

I had never gone to a discotheque in germany before yesterday. There is this very good friend of mine Nicholas. He is from Greece and pretty big about pickingup girls and being cool about it. On friday evening we were at a restaurant eating Doener Kebaap (its a turkish recipe) and sipping my favourite Heferweisen (the best german beer) and I was just telling about the time I spent in India last november, the stint that happened at a discotheque in Bangalore with my sister´s friends (no kidding- they are girl rowdies!!). Something happened to him and he wanted to get to a disco, and the messedup part is he was so adamant on me to accompany him. I told him loud and clear that I donot know any girls here and I´m really poor at pickingup girls(truely true). And in my mind im thinking will any girl be interested in shaking her ass with a dumb indian (sad but true, indians feel really hard to get a german girlfriend and its almost impossible.... because 1) color factor - we are brown 2) physical outlook - you know, short stout with a funny ascent). After a while of fighting over it,i told him right out "look dude, im an indian and and its very hard to pickup a girl and im really miserable at that, i cant do it, thanks for the invitation". He goes "come on man, you dont look much like an indian. You are 6 foot tall and with a long hairy attire u look more like a brazilian or a mexican" (actually true, many people have thought if i am from brazil) and he promised me that he would come back with me if i dont find a girl.He made me agree on the deal.

Then came saturday and i was soo nervous. Two bold guys stepped into the discotheque and he just wanted to get on to the dance floor and try your luck. I was so mad about doing that but i have no choice (in my mind i thought "anjan, saale aaj tu pitega"). One time I danced with a certain girl a few times, and didnt say much. Finally, she said to me, " Du macht das gut" ... which is in english " You dance very nicely". Initially i couldnt makeout what she said-she had some difficulty in speech.

After a couple of dances we went over to a table where a friend of hers had found a boy she was dancing with (i think) and we sat, the four of us, together. One girl was very hard of hearing, and the other was nearly deaf. A couple of dances more, we´re sitting at the table again, and when the two girls conversed they would do a large amount of signaling very rapidly back n forth, back n forth, grunt a little bit, but that didnt bother me, the girl danced well and was a nice person and also there registered a soft corner in my heart as she was almost deaf. They go signaling again and tell me something which I gathered means, she´d like us to take them to a hotel. I ask the other guy if he wants to go. "Was!!? Sie willst im restaurant gehen... aber warum?" he asks. Which means "what"? they want us to take them to a hotel .. but why?". And how the hell would i know, but other guy is afriad, so he says no. And I no way wanted to take them to a hotel myself and i told them that i have a friend and if he comes, im game. I search for the dancing greek, i dont find him, so i call him n he says, "Anjan!! ... menssch... unglaublich .. dass ist richtig spass" meant "Anjan .. mann ... this is unbelieveable fun" and i learnt that he is already with a girl in a restaurant. I was like what!!? how could u do that to me, virtually showing my middle finger. He was supposed to be my wing man. But he told me that he saw me with the girl n was confident that im on my own. But all my inexperience converged n i asked him "dude, this girl wants me to take her to a restaurant and im scared"( ill stop german here an continue only in english). He asks me to growup n go ahead, she wouldnt rape me atleast. I thought, crossing my fingers, ok!! let me take this risk and praying to god, i agreed.

They took me to a restaurant just down the street and she pointed to the building and said "thats where we live" . And as we walked into the restaurant right beside the building they told that was the school for deaf and bumb, and restaurant was for specially for them. All the people in the restaurant belong to the school believe it or not. And to my surprise she told that todays discotheque was organised by the deaf n dumb club. I was like "WHAATT!!?"" ... how can deaf n dumb feel the rhythm enough to dance to the music n applaud the DJ at the end of each number.
It was very, very interesting! I felt as if I was in someother world and everybody was talking with signs to everybody else, and I couldn´t understand anything! I asked my girl to teach me some signs and I learned a few, like you can learn a foreign language, just for fun. I had a wonderful evening yesterday and learnt a lot.
I came home n threw myself on my couch, with a lot of satisfaction!

Ekdum Bollywood istyle here .......

2005-09-14T18:22:00.000+02:00

Ahmedabad, September 11: For Sneha Patel, a 19-year-old college-going girl, everything is fair in love. Even if it means signing a contract marriage with her minor boyfriend’s elder brother for the time being, an arrangement that will ultimately allow her to marry the man she loves two years later.

It may be a rare case but Sneha has done it. As her boyfriend, 19-year-old Yash Kishan Parmar, will take another two years to reach the official marriageable age, Sneha had to find a way out that would enable her to be with Yash now.

That led to Sneha proposing to Yash’s elder brother Dharmesh and tying with him the nuptial knot that will be in force for two years.

A resident of Asarwa, Sneha eloped with Yash in July after her mother opposed the relationship on the grounds of caste differences. The duo went to Mount Abu, from where though Yash was regularly in touch with his parents, Sneha kept aloof.

But soon the two realised that they would have to remain in hiding for two years before they could officially marry each other. That two years also meant that they would have to break their studies. At that point the idea dawned on Sneha who made a proposal to Dharmesh. Dharmesh, 23, was not married.

‘‘Sneha requested Dharmesh to marry her and also sign a contract stating that he will divorce her when Yash becomes an adult,’’ says Inspector H Rajput of Shahibaug Police Station. Dharmesh’s parents accepted the idea. They then arranged for the marriage of Sneha and Dharmesh at a temple in Vasna.

According to the arrangement, Dharmesh treats Sneha as his younger brother’s wife. He will sign a divorce paper when Yash turns 21, thereby allowing Yash and Sneha live as husband and wife under the law.

Full story >>

Sparrow feeding in Paris

2005-09-01T14:52:00.000+02:00

I spent my weekend in Paris. It was a dream run, apart from the immense and comprehensive collection at the Louvre museum, it was the sparrow feeding at the gardens just outside the louvre. Normally the sparrows feed on grains, but when is not available their diet is broad and adaptable. These little creatures preyed on the worms and insects in the bushes of the gardens. It took me some time to get friendly with them. I held out a piece of bun, with my arms stretched I stood there. The first 5 mins they ignored me, as I set an example of a fool to the on-lookers. Just when I wanted to giveup there came this guy, on to the chow, ripped apart a fluff with its pink beak and flew back. That had given me enough encouragement and there came another one who came close to grabbing a mouthful but didnt. The next one was bold enough to support his claw on my finger and let his break do the bussiness. And in a minute, I had a group of sparrows around my hand, taking their bite turn by turn in an organised way. This painted a smile on my face, and on the people who noticed this unusual scene. They waved and smiled at the picture. After a long day visiting the louvre, searching and running across my favourite works, this was indeed recharging and I never noticed I had finished 5 of them.