The Demon in You

When you start thinking more about what your needs are in life… it is true that you really go blank in finding the answer to that most important question of your life…
I am sure there would be a hell lot of people who would voice my opinion on this although I am not even a wee bit sure as to whether there would really be one who would actually be able to accept it - Being a classical hypocrite one wouldn’t want to do so.
Well, exceptional cases are a rarity to be found on a normal state of affairs.
I call it the Disaster-of-the-Demon in you………

It is when you stop going along with the crowd and start realizing that there are many things about yourself that you didn't know and may not like. You start feeling insecure and wonder where you will be in a year or two, but then get scared because you barely know where you are now.You start realizing that people are selfish and that, maybe, those friends that you thought you were so close to aren't exactly the greatest people you have ever met, and the people you have lost touch with are some of the most important ones. What you don't recognize is that they are realizing that too, and aren't really cold, catty, mean or insincere but that they are as confused as you.Hmmmm…true! Confused is what they are – how to shoo-away the fiend inside your head? Most of all you look at your job... and it is not even close to what you thought you would be doing, cos you are doing one of the shittiest performances at it not deliberately but cos of your mood-swings or cos you have a frame of mind-set and you wouldn’t want to budge no-matter-what or maybe you are looking for a change of job and realize that you are going to have to start at the bottom and that scares you, so you just want to give-up on everything and curl-up under your bedcovers and lay there forever without any disturbance!At times you feel your opinions have gotten stronger. You see what others are doing and find yourself judging more than usual because suddenly you realize that you have certain boundaries in your life and are constantly adding things to your list of what is acceptable and what isn't. One minute, you are insecure and then the next, secure. You laugh and cry with the greatest force of your life sometimes with a fear that maybe you wouldn’t be gaining the same force & strength the next time you try!
So much for being a certified paranoid mastering the world of obsessive fright – but this time round I would dare say such is not life! – Damn you – This isn’t at all can make up to one’s life – If life is what one chooses to call his being in this universe as……Sometimes, you feel alone and scared and confused. Suddenly, change is the enemy and you try and cling on to the past with dear life, but soon realize that the past is drifting further and further away, and there is nothing to do but stay where you are or move forward. You get your heart broken and wonder how someone you loved could do such damage to you. Or you lie in bed and wonder why you can't meet anyone decent enough that you want to get to know better or get that someone know you better. Or maybe you love someone but love someone else too and cannot figure out why you are doing this because you know that you aren't a bad person.so you make a promise to yourself that you wouldn’t hurt yourself or the your loved one either! But invariably you find yourself breaking the same promise everyday N number of times that frustrate you and add more to your insanity and you plead temporary insanity at the least. One night stands and random hook ups start to look cheap. Getting wasted and acting like an idiot starts to look pathetic. You go through the same emotions and questions over and over, and talk with your friends about the same topics because you cannot seem to make a decision.

You worry about loans, money, the future and making a life for yourself... and while winning the race would be great, right now you'd just like to be a contender!What you may not realize is that everyone reading this relates to it. We are in our best of times and our worst of times, trying as hard as we can to figure this whole thing out....
God No ---- I dont - never want this anytime in life again - not after going through all this...A run-down on life lately such as above is pure insanity - at its full blast & perfect blend.....

Cataclysmic Manifestation

The odds of using them in the bonafide world are astronomically tiny
To all those geeky, non-geeky,hip,non-hip,posh,not-so-posh heads out there... thou shall not be misled by the hues and cries of the malicious mob trying to entwine your brain cells with frenzied prattle or their hysterical jabbering about the pros and cons & don’t knock your self out....

Life sucks with a mobile phone where in u gotta pay 600 bloody bucks for absolutely nothing but in the name of so called ******* PLAN charges and TAX !!!!!!!!!!!!!

Then what the *#$%^&* do I save on ????

How the hell am I to make my bill come with in 800 bloody bucks??
This is getting worse than the most ridiculous thing that can ever get to happen to someone
Ppl say I gain a lot using this so called mobile connection…. hell !!!!!!what am I gaining nothing but unidentified & unknown & ununderstandable charges to be paid in bulk every month like bonded-slavery without a word of explanation about it !
Damn !
I earn..i spend…is okay!!!!!!!!

But spend without enjoying the happiness of spending is too much to bear…I don’t call up my dear ones I don’t use my cell for outgoing calls … still I get so much to pay is tooooooooo very much !!!!!

Love?

Never been good at writing a poem and that too about love of all the things in the world!!!

Spare me if its pathetic which am sure it is....


Once you have loved, you will always love
Because love grooms your whole self,
Into an entirely new person
From what you were before
When you are in love you get possessive
When you are in love you get selfish
When you realize your love is not fruitful
When you learn that your love cannot be reciprocated
When you find out that your love is not going to work out for you
And when you see that your love is taking you no where
It is then that you the feel pain of love
Though you know very well what is to be done
To get yourself out of this pain
Your heart will not listen to your mind
And to know that the one you loved
Cannot love you, but loves someone else
Shatters your heart into pieces
You are at a fix
You neither want to feel bad
Nor can you feel good about it
Yet you cant stop yourself from loving the person
No matter what for love is love – Period!
Its silly to expect someone to fall out of love,
As it never happens so..Love stays – Active or Dormant!
But still lives though – Forever!

Time

Never-Ever did I think that life’s got so many different dimensions to it and with time you welcome it or not each dimension took their turn in playing their role picture perfect with out sparing you at anytime, anywhere.

I am sure that wouldn’t have made much sense as complex & complicated as I can always be with my words, making it all the more decipherable to the ones that have a decent level of patience to go through this all so-hazy and “oh-i-am-here-to-provide-some-gyaan” stuff of mine !

Thanks to you for going on with an expectation of some change, if not today, some day at the least!

Guess not much have changed with the way I write though, yet quite a lot of thought has been put up on the different dimensions of life that I mentioned of.

Yes, true that time changes human kind.

It is very true that with time, space and a bit of extra energy to put up a frequently updated chart on things to do & things not to do … a lot of things differ from what it was before and what it is now …

People change is the bottom line.

Do people change for good or bad is not the question, as it is left to the individuals desire fully to choose what they want to possess as they grow up ahead in their life from no one to someone.

And for sure, there’ll be a time when the someone will have to be the ONE - looked upon by everyone and that day, when you take sometime of yours to review the past that was committed to your memory(if u had chose to commit!) then that would make you the master of wisdom. that would in turn mean that you have learnt,lost,missed,achieved,won,smiled,cried,seen pleasure,experienced misery…and what not?

Time is the best HEALER
Time is also the best TEACHER
Time is the best MEDICINE
Time means REDEMPTION

Time is again your worst enemy

But make sure u play along with the TIME so that you don’t let it lead you and you remain a loser!
Be the best enemy of Time!
Challenge the time – Make sure you win all the time!!

Time must be under your control, when u let the vice versa happen – decide that you are the loser for sure and STOP trying even – cos it’s of no use anymore as you’ve lost the game already!

Frustration at its Peak!

I was wondering what was happening to me on that not-so-rainy but so-very-breezy evening when I was at the best of my mood swings.
I was very irritable at that moment and as a result of which I could sense my inane habit of throwing and dropping things that come my way or things my hands could lay on was going a bit overboard!

And all the more evasively people had to end-up doing a stretch therapy with my already long-enough legs.
It was so intimidating that day for me when I realized that nothing I tried to do was fruitful since the day had dawned in with the all-so-favorite room mate of mine blowing out her horns to declare the already known painful fact which woke me up from my otherwise extended sleep – POWER CUT!

I Said “oh ye?..thanks for the reassurance im still into my senses to look & feel!”

She walked away with a dejected face.
Well that’s a routine to her by now, with her highly illogical declarations of matter-of-factly things and giving out exaggerated explanations to trivial things.

It feels so sick that people are so idiotic at times that they get u on your nerves with their highly moronic behavior and the more sardonic u are to them the more cacophonic they make your life with their idiosyncrasy!

Feeling already blissful for the day I gather myself up from the bed to freshen up and proceed to the rest room only to figure that there is not even an ounce of water left in the buckets or the slimmest of water droplet sticking to the mouth-of-the-tap.
Highly pissed…at this scenario where I am to go to the loo peacefully to regain my sleep which was on hold due to the jerky wake caused by my wonderful roomy!

Cursing her under my breath I went down to switch on the motor groggily and was startled totally with my eyes fixed upon the switch and mouth gaped open with utter shock…..

THE SWITCH WAS ON BUT THERE WAS NO “GRRRR” SOUND COMING OUT OF THE GODDAMNED MOTOR – which means POWER CUTTTTTTTT it was now that the strong effect of power cut had registered on my mind bellowing the bare fact of what my irritating roommate declared so loudly sometime ago!

“Shit man!!!!!!” – I thought… Well it really was a shitty state of affair as it is when I am just out of bed and lots of u-know-what’s are to be done with my rest-room and lots of water….

Now, this is not fair…What the heck am I to do ????



With all my anger I came storming up to my room with nothing prospective or useful to do, with the hope of snoozing-off again…
On my way, I kicked something very hard… with all the blur and grumpiness running faster than the blood running into my veins…I looked back to see what I shoved away to the invisible goal post with all my early-morning-anger-driven-energy…and there it was shattered into pieces of uncountable or unidentifiable fragments….tittering pathetically for the strong wind ( which was blowing outside with full force now as if to welcome my current achievement) was the pair of rim-less, glass-less, frame of my goody-goody roommate’s spectacles!!

Holy shitttttttt!!!!!!!!!!!!!

How can I do that…shit….i go up to the mess and pick it up and start scrutinizing the frame with what’s left over of it…

She’s upstairs talking to her friend over phone…when she comes back I am to be killed…
Gracious god… show some mercy on me… All my grogginess has been wiped out cleanly now with an intense terror seeping inside my heart with a sinking pain…how can I do this to her..it was a Sunday and the village we lived in did not promote such exclusive ideas like keeping the optical shop open on public holidays like that of Sundays!
And she cannot live with out her glasses…

The last thing I ever wanted to do to my favorite roomy who always cared for me was to damage her 3rd and 4th eyes!

Damn… so ricocheting on what can be done best to cover-up the damage done I was back on my bed with thoughts….and within no time I was into deep sleep, slashing & gashing and garrulously yelling at the dementors who came out of nowhere in the Forbidden forest where I am walking with Harry and his hippogriff as we are just about to take off to see Albus Dumbledore who’s actually not dead but is alive in the cave where Lord Voldemort’s horcrux was found !

I wake-up sweating all over and feeling fatigue having had an exhausting encounter with the dementors and also winning harry’s heart in the process being the best fighter in women – better than Hermione …No-No! Better than that damsel Harry’s in love with what’s her goddamned name I say – oh yeh…. Miss Ginny Weasley! – BB !!!!!

So much for a bad day……huh-oh…gotta be cheesing up my sweetie-pie roomy whose glasses I smashed!

Hmmm…GoD sAvE mE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

When Someone said "watch out on how much you work...."

The Clock ticks away to glory everyday only to suggest that i am growing old with days and my time's running out in this vast space, leaving me with another day short of not-achieving what i wanted to or leaving me with a day's time...

Anyways this picture above caught my attention somehow just to tell me that sometimes, you work your ass out under psyched up situations where you're already running short of your deadline dates on ur processes, so with butterflies and snakes taking in different shapes in ur stomach u sit-up for long, slog and give your best only to figure out that u havent achieved even 10% of what you could have achieved on a normal day under normal circumstances with 0% pressure nailing you down with heavy boulders on your shoulders...

Well..although as opposed to what's written on the calendar you work giving ur 60-70% on each day, believe me in the end...its gonna prove you nothing great!
No big deal.. as its the same shit every day....

A tap here and a tip there and you are the bigshot of the higher level management - the cream crowd.. and a very polished way of putting across even the shittiest thing under the sun - that's the right identification of the Mgmt lot!

They manage well or they do a big mess-up doesnt matter at all...but in the end they get their things done somehow by deligating things, routing the work thru' different channels of communications, either by tact or by sheer threat...

well for those lots, that dwell deep down at the peasant level who slog n slog and does nothing but coding and debugging...its always like "hey u outthere..u do this code n wind-up with all done cleanly n u get this loaf of bread !" ....there he goes the loyal bread winner of the level1 family...

Hmm...inevitable isnt it?

Quite true...that's ok...dudes but my suggestion is whatever u do stick to the calender above so that you do justice to urself and ur boss...

Try to strike balance between ur life and ur work's dude!

Ticking still with time n growing old...

the oldy and philly me....

signing off...

Doubts in my "Native Language" - Part I

1. Why is a fool called Vennai?
He neither is capable of producing butter nor does he own a butter factory – then where does the English translated word butter fit into this scenario of a foolish guy being called as “vennai”

2. Why is a person who speaks in English called “peter” ?
Neither did a man called peter introduce english amidst tamil population, nor was peter the father of English. So why this name based discrimination?

3. Why is flirting termed as Kadalai?
Neither does flirting produce pea-nuts nor do people eating lots of pea-nuts tend to flirt..then why kadalai?

4. Why are good looking girls called kattai ?
Neither do they have a figure/shape of a wooden stick.. nor do they emerge from wood. Then where did kattai come from?

5. Why is money termed as dhuddu?
I am sorry I can’t make out any references for this word being used as replacement for “kasu” which should actually be used…. If anyone can explain will be happy.


6. Why is a big shot called as pisthu ?
Neither does he produce pista nor does he own a pista factory..then why?
I also wondered was it coined from ppsssst – like ppl who make you go "pppssst" (a phonetic used to represent the highly pissed of state) are called pisthu’s or what?

Zombies are made(not born?!)

At 7.30am,packed in a bus, that was suffocating already, carrying more than the required number, it’s windows tightly shut to prevent the rain water hitting & wetting the faces of the window-seaters, was jam-packed with people finding happiness in even an inch of space that they can get their feet on!

Heavy imported laptops slinging from their shoulders, assorted with massive jackets making wuish-wuish sounds, lunch kit, office bags & other stuffs to make the place even more crammed and ineligible to breathe-in and breathe-out.

With all those sleepy and grim looking faces filled in that dimly lit corporate bus, it gives me an impression of a bunch of automatons being transported from one site to another for some technical enhancements on to those expressionless flat faces…

The first site being taken to would be: The-so-called Office

I don’t believe that site would provide the missing expressions on the faces of these androids…but I am sure they would obtain at least half-of-what-they-want when they reach their next Site:-HOME! – Say in 8, 9, 10, 12 hrs from now…

Yet for all those that live away from their homes and are put-up in hostels or PGs or be it C/O platforms it doesn’t stop there either as their struggle for life proceeds there too.. Struggle for food, struggle for sleep, struggle for privacy, struggle for freedom & peace and all the other battles that would prop up when one is forced to live in a common-place.

On a constructive note, No other field except IT in today’s scenario is as well-heeled with bags and bags of dollars…Giving you a head-start at:
1. Free monetary flows (with instant loans & EMI’s following pursuit)
2. Plush living with the possession of a spacious triple bedroom apartment in the
heart-of-a-most-happening software city.
3. A sophisticated air conditioned car parked at your portico.
4. A bunch of cards that you swipe in to get to anything, anywhere and anytime
5. A mail sent to your team with a list of acclaims and accolades from your top management for your sweat-n-blood.

Such perfection has definitely got to do with minimum amount of sacrifices…Here goes the eternal list…
Residual remains of being a work alcoholic – sucking out all ur energy cells.
Receding/Graying hairlines
Traces of faintly skewed brains(mind?)
Over-worked eyes behind those high powered lenses – which you very smartly call as anti-glare glasses
Permanently dark(ened) circles bearing eyes that are gone way inside their respective sockets
Uneven, ill maintained and shapeless and unhealthy body conditions are one the most prominent diseases for being a s/w pro for a relatively long time…

Well, when I say relatively long time, I strongly believe that “ONE” full year under the same type of work would also create the sufficient damage that would make you a perfect “whatever-you-are” as described above!

Multi-lingual crowd from all four directions of the country bringing in their drawl to add to the dashboard which is already overloaded with too many linguistic theories set-out by the majority crowd or localities.

Paragraphs to sentences to words, you are so conscious every time you utter a single sentence of the local language because you don’t know the language yet you would want to learn and speak to please the people around or with the only notion of getting their understanding in a better way comparatively.

Simply South….
Yellow becomes “Ellow”
Number becomes “Nem-ber”
Air becomes “Ye-air”
One becomes “Vone”
Account becomes “Yec-count”

Nostalgic North/the rest of the India .
Veg. becomes “bheg”
Potato becomes “Batata/o”
Parent becomes “Pay-rent”
Oh come on becomes “Arey Yaar”
Oh yes becomes “haan naaa”
What I would like to say is becomes “What I would like to say ki”


These transient yet practical inabilities of human-mind gets into this doggedness with issues in a quick click of the fingers.
So I have a veritable buffet of:
1) Juveniles who prefer to indulge in meaningless emoticon exchange.
2) Their marginally more intelligent brethren who walk with a boulder-sized regional chip declaring a diabolic nature over the other clan members.

Anyways, beyond all this…there comes an onsite opportunity that dives you in with full energy to get accustomed to this, like how a treasure is waiting for the man who’s playing the hunt game facing hardships and difficulties, only to seek the gold & in our case to seek the foreign currency and the glimpse and sniff of the overseas air which would add value to one’s resume on their achievements column…but no one has the guts to mention as a foot note the things that they had to forego for achieving what’s on their papers do they?

They don’t talk about the number of insomniac nights they spent in an alien country having no sign or feel of home to pour out or share the sad things or the happy moments…Number of times they had to brace themselves up from not breaking down every time they were ill-treated as if they were some down trodden and menial things belonging to the lower order world…..

Well they wouldn’t would they? Would you?

Cos, it’s a world of gamble….and every man wants to speculate.

Hmmm…now that explains it all…. Monetary needs that forays all the other emotional and sentimental needs….

Vicious circle though…..this is why people don’t mind being zombie’s from the land of androids transported from the source to their destination and vice versa.

A hope…The hope that keeps every man alive…

A hope is a target. It’s an aspiration... it’s a fire of desire…it’s a goal post that you draw for yourself!

Hope of achieving the best in you in your short span of life – that is what it is and that is where the whole world is heading to…….

On that very thought….
I resign for now,

Gawky Life!

I’ve always wondered what these four words had in common with them that they constantly made me feel that they belong to the same family interwoven in a discreet way which made them sometimes inseparable to put in a more appropriate manner.
“Obsession – Love – Liking – Addiction”
Why is one addicted to someone/something?
Why is one obsessed with someone/something?
Can you say it’s because they like/love that someone/something so much to an extent of overdose that it becomes an inevitable/indispensable part of their life sooner or later with out their applying any deliberate effort for the same…

What I name as obsession can be named as love by someone but the same can be named as addiction by the third person & the fourth can brush it aside calling it as infatuation which for all its alternate meaning can again be taken as liking someone/something blindly!

Now what does blindly mean?

Unconditional, uncontrollable, unidentifiable and unperturbed sense of belonging/being close to that someone whom you believe would keep you happy, by giving you the best that you see in them and be there for you forever!
Come to think of it…its all about how you perceive things that come your way. If you say its positive ions they are positive and their affinity increases every time you see them.

But when you push them off saying they are negative they do turn out to be negative and will in turn increase the aversion for the same!

Lucifereous fiend is what you turn out to be when you get neck deep into that cesspool of obsession or mania…like what i am about HP without any reason or meaning attached to it !

Rising Insanity

it was 12.00 am when 7th of August had just begun...and it was time for me to call up my bestfriend since school time & wish her happy birthday!

It was more of an extempore idea that came across my mind when i was ringing her up..that i blurted out "Hey today is ur birthday right?...i hope its not tomm is it?" and that got her totally off-gaurd, yet as shrewd as she always is...she gathered instantly to reply back "oh yeah? actually it'z yesterday!" - then she cooled herself down and told me that "No one in my life had so far wished me this way on my birthday .. i am too shocked at the rate at which your r proving to be extraordinarily brilliant with your exceptional ways of doing the most basic things "

And i being I... gleefully said "thank u, thank u!"

Hmm..now what can i say for the rising insanity in me oflate...

Expect more from "Me"

Cheerio....

Conceptualism!

Sometimes we simply know. We simply know what is to be done to handle a situation. We are completely in sync and are fully aware of another person. How did we know that we know?....we may or may not know.A person's Insightful, Intuitive or the innate understanding of a certain situation/scenario/person - Conceptuality - as I would like to call it.A person's conceptuality on someone or something is function of his or her experience and/or genetics. Clearly, if you have spent a great deal of time with someone, after a point in time you begin to sense how that person might react to certain stimuli. In conversation you end up completing his/her sentences even before he/she does. This is in essence conceptuality as a result of experience. So while you may not be born salesman, if you have spend about 5-8years in the field, at the end of it, you intuitively know how to sell, what clicks, what works and what doesn’t. Conceptuality as a function of genetics is debatable. We have all; based on empirical and extrapolative observation, at some point of time or the other would have observed certain people having a command over certain subjects and situations for as long as we've known them. Some are born mathematicians. Some by nature are very good at handling people. Some we've felt are born sportsmen/women. In several cases I have observed that either or both parents or ancestors have to some extent been involved in the field where the person is seen to be displaying conceptuality. Perhaps either or both parents or his/her ancestors themselves would have displayed conceptuality in the field.Conceptuality in a person is not dual in nature. One has to develop one's conceptuality. First one must recognize one has it. On recognition, one may choose to develop it. What helps a person develop his/her conceptuality is a function of genetics, environment and self. You may realize you are a good sportsman. You may want to develop it. But your parents may not agree, your academic pressure takes away most of your time etc. Clearly, the environment here will not allow you to develop your conceptuality.At the end of the day it is important to understand what one is conceptual at. Whether one chooses to develop it or not is one's prerogative. At least choice made should be an informed one.

Conceptuality to a level that is unsurpassed can be reached with an ease if you are a constant practitioner of open-attitude and whole hearted acceptance of the “Law of Conceptuality” at every step!

We come,We see & We aspire…but do we conquire?

Disruptive Creativity

Like Poles Repel…Unlike poles attract…..

Disruptive creativity has become the latest fashion of getting to learn things.Everyone of us has a predictable order to his life...We get up in the morning, brush our teeth, break fast, work, dine and sleep to repeat the same routine again...Routine is the word...Human beings (at least most) hate change and love predictability, safety, hence the routine...corporations have evolved their own notion of routine in the name of efficiency...Job descriptions, hiring and firing policies..
Although on the other hand, the constant hues & cries raised by the inner self fuelling up the burning desire to break free – To see a drastic change from a dull mundane sickening life to a life of a valor – an exotic life with a phenomenal blend of bravery and , its quite a controversy at that point when 2 ends meet,Umm..No wonder they choose to remain asymptotic!
A freak is a guy who cannot be predicted. A mad man has no logic...Logic can be predicted hence freaks are equivalent to mad men??...Maybe.. But i guess we call that sort of madness creativity...So creativity is all about being unpredictable!!....So simple!So what we can do to be creative is to break free of all semblance of routine, in other words, logic...Breaking free also has a spiritual connotation..Science relies on hard logic...Hence scientists may claim that there is no God because there is no proof that He exists. No logic to the claim that He exists...So believers have to be creative...to seek out form to an incomprehensible non existent form.....So by default, believers are creative people...........To sum it...break free of the traditional mould, climb out of the well, lose yourself in that incomprehensible vacuum of thoughts that are void of ordered structure.

To be free and in the process find thy liberation...

Banana Leaf!

Food served in traditional banana leaf had always been delicious, mouth-watering and not to mention an all time favorite for food-lovers or gluttons if you may call in a mean sense.

Well, now there is a controversy, which would pull-up to denote, being a food-lover is nowhere related to being a glutton because for all you know a person who loves food may not necessarily be an over-eater or glutton, but just a person who simply enjoys every fraction of his time spent on admiring & taking-in his food...

Anyways all the controversies apart, the topic of the day is definitely not the one about the hubbub mentioned above but it’s about the scrumptiousness that would make you go crazy over the food that’s been served in front of you in an extremely heartwarming way, much more, to keep you connected to the ethnics that once sunk deep inside you and has now gone astray with the busy race of your (our?!) modern existence!

As a matter-of-fact I would say food always tasted much better than what it had been, when served with all the warmth & hospitability.

There really is a paramount difference in the flavor of the food, based on how hostile or how cordial it’s been served to you!

It's really strange how much one can accomplish by following a simple uncomplicated life. How complicated, needlessly we have made life for ourselves. It really does not matter I guess what you are as long as you are happy.

And to be happy with simple things in life is an art and learning alone wouldn’t suffice, you would have to master the art to live every inch of it!

The threshold of every July, back at home would chime in the arrival of a bunch of festive days to follow bringing in more joyous moments to slurp in the yummy, hot-sweet & hot-spicy food on the traditional serving leaf .

The taste I say is more, in eating that way because it’s more close to being in touch with Mother Nature; you feel you are still a part of the earth and its earliest inmates!

Unsurprisingly, it gives you the fulfillment of having had a good meal, let alone the extra appetizing effect that you get in as a bonus!

More often than not, it impairs the savory of the edibles in an awful manner on a daily routine whenever you are pushed into the trend of having to eat on ceramic plates having to perform a solo hockey or javelin match invariably in a crowd of high-society polished community, or the delirious inhabitants that queue-up with steel-plates in an ostensible middle class canteen/mess.

On that note, one must really be lucky to appreciate the aftertaste that he/she gains, upon eating one of the most sought-after food items of South-India, officially named as “Sugar-Pongal” and practically identified as the brown-colored rice, a residue we get when we boil the rice with milk & jaggery, drenched in ghee & festooned with dry grapes, cashew nuts, Pista and badam… served hot & sizzling on a lush green, garden-fresh banana-leaf , which would in turn cause the green leaf to go black cause of the intense heat radiating from the steaming Pongal – “Man its Heaven!!” is one simple line to explain the feeling on a much precise account!

At that golden moment of ecstasy with your eyes, nose and mouth watering when you take-in the first morsel of the most delightful food, prepared by the world’s best cook – Your Mom (of course)…Gushing out is the feel of paradise and fantasy – Unsurpassed !

Today!

Yesterday was my dad's birthday !
Never distributed sweets for his bday so far in my life except for this time, when he turned 55 yesterday...nothing really changed back at home at i believe when its the other way round over here in the cultural city of MH.

Nothing really changes though it looks like a small drench in the natural shower would give a solid break for the heated up skull and overcooked grey cells.

Anyways, more often than not..... there isnt always a drastic change in the characteristic traits of a person from the past to the present...yet...changes are always welcome as a minute ray of hope that says someday down the line things might improve or take a sudden drift making it all out of ordinary.

its 9.20pm and am about to run to catch my bus to go home.

will write more nexttime its a promise to myself ....promise to my blog too for bearing with this shameless owner who's least bothered about her blog !

Got My Right Place (Before & After)

Got my System and Desk alloted Today !!!!!

First Floor Wing B and a Corner Cabin ....

Revised Edition:- Been shifted to the next cabin now !! :-)

My mentor shares the workspace cubicle with me.

Shes nice shes good very calm,cool and composed - Exactly opposite to me!

Guess shes learnt of patience lessons from dealing with people like me ..

Will write more soon about my new venture and adventures of the new place..............

checking out...
Bye....

Second Post

This is my second mail on display ever since i landed in the "Cultural Capital of Maharashra" almost 1 and a half months back ....

Life here: is just "OK" nothing more to add to it !

Climate: is chilly in the nights and sultry in the afternoons.

People: Are nice but unfortunately speak only "MARATHI"

Language Spoken: Marathi and Hindi (Obviously i am Zero at both !)

Office hours: 9am - 5.30,6.30,7.30,9.30pm (so far)

Food available: Land of VadaPav,Roti - sabjis and chawal - dhal

People here are always relaxed and too causal about things....

Nothing much to look forward to...its not a happening place ...rather we are not in the "happening" part of the city maybe to put it in more clearer terms..


Anyways life goes on....Sleep..Eat...Office...Home.....Eat...Sleep ...and the cycle goes on...

I am in a morbid state oflate...trip to chennai was a ticket to witness the life's most gruesome natural calamity - Tsunami & Tremors !

What a way to welcome my first home coming ..... Ha Ha

Life is a mess as it is...all these can only add more to the already morose status of my life....

Sometimes it feels like theres nothing to life except for mere breathing - in and breathing- out endlessly ...pointlessly ..Heading towards no-where ...EVERY dusk and dawn!

A mobile -phone, An incoming Call, An SMS, An outgoing call ... Makes absolutely no sense to me....

People get upset cos they DONT get a call...
People get upset cos they GOT a call
People get upset cos they DONT get an SMS....

What a silly life it is to except the useless things and get bogged down cos of those silly things not happening ...........

But Such is life......As i always say....Few things are better left UNSAID or rather UNEXPLAINED..

Class is on..
Signing off

First Day First Show !

IT was AWESOME !!!

Bunch of 32 of us ...with a 50% - 50% ratio is pretty rare and so we are being called as a "Special Batch"...

Cos girls are generally less in number...in all the batches it is in this batch tht we 'v got equal no. of guys and girls....

Godd Enuff and a tough competition as well, as almost all the brains here have landed straight frm the campuses of IIT's,BITS, REC's,NIT's and PSG's.....

Hmm.....Will see what god's kept in store for me in here.....

Hope and Pray....

Thats all for now...

Hope things go on well atleast from now on....

.........


TO WHOMSOEVER IT MAY CONCERN:


Thanks again to everyone and everything that made this possible for me....

signing off...

Ego Problems(with the Egos)

We would never change!

Both U and ME

This is basically because we donot want to give up on what we think,what we know,what we decide and what we do.Having done things its not an easy task to back-track and re-iterate them to get a better result.Reasons could be manyfold,but the basic and major one could be as u pointed out the 3 lettered big word E.G.O.

Which according to me is an acronym for the following....

Exceptionally Generous Obsession (EGO) - with and about oneself.

To each to their own...very true in that case there is no need for advice-seeking or counselling during the periods of probs and tribulations.

one-two-one-two-one two ...hand wash system..quick wash is the best sought after washing technique today....and i guess this applies to not just CLOTHES but to the PEOPLE too :D:D

Instant staining and Quick washing ....
when the former refers to the friendships/relationships made as fast as the click of the fingers latter is the proof of its credibility,durability and elasticity and in terms of PL its called the scope of the code...which unfortunately in most cases seem to be very short.

My washing machine's teaching me a lot of lessons lately,its technique which as per the manufacturer is "A Sixth Sense Technology - Whitest White Clean"
It senses the errors automatically as its been programmed to do so and tells the operator what the problem is...like the water filled in is not sufficient or the outlet pipe is not alligned to ground level or its overloaded or the detergent added is less so on and so forth...Quite an extended bit of luxury to the already lazy crowd...but its good that theres no verbatim or physical damage involved even if the operator does some mistakes....it just quietly displays the error on the digital screen and prompts the user in a soft way as to what should be done next ..

see now it beeped in to tell me that i havent filled in enuff water....that makes things very very simple dont u think?! letting out the needs and expectations for the work to be done would resolve a lot of egoistic disputes and mental games....
Clear cut approach from both sides :-)


India is as usual putting up a poor show at the 4th test match as well,even after successfully losing the series and the cup they dont seem to be facing any threat to their unshakable & unfathomable attitude of "We loose to everyone with out any partiallity"

Anyways kumble just took a wicket at this very second of me writing this shameful words about my own home country........

Hmm...what to do??

Good...my machine finished washing the second load of clothes successfully for the day...My snowwwwyyyy bestest !!!!!!!! :-)

I did "namakaranam" to my washing machine this morning and decided to call it as "snowy"....Brick bat'ters and Sound spit'ters are requested to maintain distance...

so where was i ?
ya...One of the oldest truth is that "Truth Hurts" ..i used to wonder if that was why it was called as truth just bcos it always hurts...yet another story of which came first the egg or the chick !

It is as true as this oldest truth that ...Truth when tried to kept at a distance or covered-up for self-convenience gives just the opposite result !
The more u runaway from truth the more it confronts u wherever u go...well for once if u start persuing it or atleast do a decent try i guess it quickly learns its boundaries and stays there with out blocking your way in life with things..

I cannot be more clearer than that cos i am as much confused a character as u think u r !

So donot ask for more explanations and get a truck load of lies in return...

The truth has its original value only when its uttered once...u repeat a truth a million times it becomes a lie in the end...

Running away from truth for once makes u repeat the same every time ur confronted with the same eventually u turn out to be a fugitive much less a convict or a sinner.

So there again u choose....to be what u r and the result is likewise.

Obviously if u donot make any conscious efforts to be recognised as a PERSON with so & so feelings and emotions and sentiments there will be no reference to the same to your name apparently because only a proper input can give an equally legible output...
As simple as that...

Theorem:EVERY COMPLEX PROBLEM HAS A SIMPLE SOLUTION!

Sample Values:Though we might have come across this theorem a lot of times in life when it comes to practical application of the same to our problems we go mind-blank or Brain-dead !
Which is bcos of the pressure exerted upon us during the problem times that our normal thought processing is disturbed and deviated a lot from its actual orbit and so theres a jingle-mingle of things
Proof: To prove this theorem we seek the help of Yoga Advisory Board which at the time of our stress and pressure instructs us to - "Do pranayamam" which is nothing but the preliminary,Basic Breathing exercise.
Sit on the floor & if not floor on ur chair but make sure that u Sit Erect,Take a deep Breath....then inhale O2 and exhale CO2 for half-a-dozen times.
That would let the fresh oxygen to surge through your brain cells and would eventually invoke all ur dead/inactive/sleeping cells and wud make u think about the entire problem from the beginning till the end step-by-step and thus u get to figure the exact point where things started going wrong or where it went wrong...so now u know the solution is simple !


Hence the theorem that "EVERY COMPLEX PROBLEM HAS A SIMPLE SOLUTION" is proved to be true with all the assumptions and sample values remaining true.


I donot know where to place it,but it definitely needs a place to be put in to, so that it gets its right identification...but the use of identification remains unworthy as long as the right person fails to acknowledge or overlooks its presence in the end leading things to a mere "time-wasting-tactic"

But thats not something new to human life...more than half the things that i did all my life were left unnoticed or unacknowledged or simply forgotten although acknowledged.

And come to think of it, its boring to feel bad for the same reasons all thru the life so i tend to get over the "Small- disappointments"....saying that tiny things are better to be left as tiny as they are, instead of, beating the drums and wasting all the useful energy over it trying to attain a simple recognition.

One good word makes a lot of difference to things to Anyone and I am no exception!

I have no co-ordination between my brain and my mouth is the latest comment that i got about myself...could be very true.... but its better to be that way instead of laying all that u really have on ur mind in a bottle with an air tight cork and rest it in a corner of ur mind...so that when the actual time comes u can make the best of its use in puncturing the other persons self-esteem !

well what could be best other than finding an outlet to drain all ur flaws & shortcomings?

find a channel - Anger
fine tune it to get the exact signal - outpour of words

Pure satisfaction at the result of having successfully upset the other person's mood !

Way to go !

Let the great work continue all over the world so that all gets to feel the chip on their shoulders.

And so Bitterness continues...

train and rain continues...

Well and so at the end of the centrifuge effect i was thrown out of the train in the middle of the fresh-laid tracks adjacent to the rails that were left unused for reasons that are unknown to me.

Ahead of me was a 1km walk on the railway track with the heavy down fall at a merciless speed making it all the more difficult to trace a bearable path with the poor visibility...

So i walk...with the heaviness of my black bag and my huge leather jacket dragging me backwards with every forward step that i managed to take....eventually was cursing myself to have chosen to DARE !

well im too bored today to write more...

Im drowsy..sleepy....tired and sick

:-( :-(

The Train Journey

 It’s raining here so madly today. Yes, madly I say, because it wasn’t a rain of the normal sort.

It felt as if the Rain-God had finally decided to let go of his longstanding anger for being so mean to us. And so he went splashing and drenching frenziedly, attacking every nook and corner of the oven-baked land, the sun-tanned terraces of the multi-storied buildings, and the ever-buzzing, overtly populated, westernized proviso of this once traditionally enriched and culturally enhanced metropolitan mega-city of mine: The Chennai.

Rainy days are definitely a feel-good factor and a welcome change for us, who are always open to the chastisements of the sizzling and searing Universal God of Light: The Sun!

Eventually, taking some time to roll back to the past reminds me of an almost adventurous rainy day experience that I had five years ago.

It was mid-October 1999. Yet again, not-so-surprisingly, it was pouring down hard and heavy. I bet hailstones were included too, though I probably didn’t take much time to notice.

This was only to add more glory to my most renowned and exemplary late-start to the railway station to catch my “Guindy-Tambaram” 7.20 a.m. Electric Train.

I was doing a half-run, half-jog journey across the 100 ft road to reach the subway. From there, I had to find my way through the tunnel, which was crammed with office-goers, college-goers, school-goers, market-goers and business-seekers. All of them were heaped up under the single roof of that lengthy stretch, in vain tries to be saved from getting sodden by the heavy downpour.

The same subway, which used to look like a creepy underground place for all sorts of illegal business dealings on sunny afternoons, was unbelievably overpopulated that day.

There was a strong stench of unwashed socks from the school kids huddled towards the corner of the narrow passageway. This was peppered with the reek of moisture, sweat, unwashed clothes, unwashed bodies and what not?!

It was 7.13 already. I was still at the threshold of the subway and I had a long way to go.

Buying a ticket wasn’t a problem because I had my train pass with me. So that process at least was a time-saver!

In the menacing crowd that was unsuspectingly manhandling me from all four directions, everyone was desperately trying to find room in the constricted space available.

I was trawling to find my way out of this deadliest trap, with quick glances at my digital sports watch once every 15 seconds. Even quicker prayers were naturally coming out of my mouth at the time of crisis, such as this, to get into the 7.20 unit. I was also hoping to empty my last-minute ditch effort at that, as long as it served the purpose in the end to find me in my train!

Slowly trudging my way through the messy mass, I was getting restless.

Suddenly, like a gust of wind from nowhere, and with a quick push from a group of ladies behind me, I was shoved towards the egress of the eternal subway!

At the first rush of fresh air, I thanked the Almighty for letting me survive the Tunnel-Effect Syndrome!

But then, that definitely was not all there was to it.

Well, in fact, it wasn’t even half of what it took to make this incident a wholesome adventure, as I called it before.

Now came the most intriguing part, where I had to choose between two options.

Either I could take the long route, walking another furlong and surpassing the heavy roadside traffic. Or I could do a high jump across a four-and-a-half-foot-high wall, amidst all the unknown and unauthorized bushes and shrubs.

Not to mention, there was also a nostril-flaring thick odor of the fluid-downloads done at morning, noon and night by our fellow humans in and around the area.

For once, being lightweight and athletic did help me in a real-time situation such as this. I went in for the high-jump option, which almost none of the girls who travel by the same transport media as mine fail to choose.

After having achieved a successful time-saving tactic, I looked at my mega-sized sports watch to make sure it was still working. It had lived through quite a strong hit against the half-demolished side parapet wall.

Thanks to God, the watch was intact!

Defiant as always to my mother’s advice, right from rising early from my bed in the mornings to starting out early to reach the railway station in time, it was cringe time as usual.

I hurriedly recoiled all the advice of “amma” while maintaining a fast gait across the railway gate towards the steps to my platform.

I must appreciate myself for managing a prayer-cum-time-check all at once.

Oh gosh!

It showed 7.23.

I split into a quick run down the steps, now praying that I don’t end up falling down face-first by stepping into a slippery pool of idle waters formed at both ends of every step.

This was all due to the mad rainfall, in the past how many ever hours it had been raining for.

But thanks to my Reeboks, it was very much firm enough to give me all the grip that I needed to do a safe landing.

Guess I was too young back then to have managed such a remarkable speed.

Therefore, I reached my platform and let out a sigh of relief at the notice of my usual train-mates.

A couple of college girls, a vegetable vendor and a 40-year-old lady who worked for the Tambaram sub-registrar’s office.

It was that dainty lady who first acknowledged my last-minute inclusion in the prolonged wait for the train.

She ensured me, with a soft pat on my shoulder, that I hadn’t missed it and that the train was delayed due to the washout of the tracks at Basin Bridge.

Now, another creep began to unveil its face slowly.

It was not even two minutes since I felt happy at having kept up the time before the train reached the station.

The new creep was this:

“Will I be able to reach my college on time, which is at 8.30 a.m.?”

It takes one hour to reach Tambaram. Especially when it’s raining like this, it would take a quarter more extra to reach Tambaram.

From there, I still had to walk again for about 10 minutes to reach my destination!

I immediately skipped into a mental arithmetic of the approximate arrival time of my train at Tambaram, starting from 7.27 a.m., which was what my watch displayed at that point.

I was damned sure to be late for a minimum of at least 10 minutes, and at the max, GOD KNOWS!

Anyways, I gathered some more energy to withstand the loud and disgraceful barks of my college gatekeeper and lecturer.

Then there would be the stifled ridicule of my own classmates as a topping to everything that I had gone through for the past half an hour or so.

The thought made me emulate a shiver, followed by the real one that was due to the chillness of the climate and my wet dress.

In utter distaste at the mental picture of being ridiculed and yelled at, I felt a sudden urge to hop down the railway crossing and get back home.

I could produce a leave letter the next day at college, saying that I was sick with fever or had a bad stomach pain that kept me immobile.

But then, that again was an even more irritating procedure.

I would have to produce a prescription to the college authorities so as to make them believe that I wasn’t being dishonest about my fever.

Hell with that.

At least going late stopped with a few warnings and a minor ridiculing.

Consequently, I decided that going to college somehow was a much better and saner option.

Within the next 10 minutes, the train came puffing and gasping, with the maximum possible number of passengers footboarding and clinging to the windows of every compartment, from the first to the last.

It moved as fast as a buffalo walking in the rain.

My instinct told me not to get into this train.

But I had no other go if I lost this train.

My gut warned me again: at least not this compartment. My usual one. The ladies compartment.

But who dares wins, I told myself.

It was going to be crowded only for the next few stations. After Airport, it was going to be all right.

So I decided to dare.

As fast as I could manage, I pushed through the trampling, squashing, tumbling bunch of ladies fighting with their full force and yelling on top of their voices to find a place inside.

I took pride in spotting just the right place in that compartment.

Just near the entrance, but not too near.

I let myself into the two straps of my legendary black bag and rested my back with the semi-cushion effect that my bag gave me.

My back was resting atop the partition between two sitting enclosures.

The next station came even before I could start feeling comfortable with the convenient place that I had found for myself.

So I felt all the more happy, thinking that after all, this wasn’t as bad as it had looked a few minutes before.

Just then, from the station by which the train had just stopped, emerged a crowd of ladies that I never imagined could fit in five compartments of the train.

A female with a hefty build and an unfriendly appearance stood there, with a funny face skewed in the process of chewing what looked like a truckload of tobacco.

She grumbled and cursed at the new faces in the compartment for snatching her private little place.

That place was the one facing the entrance, where my bag and, in turn, my back was rested upon.

According to all virtual and non-existent rule books, that place belonged to her.

She showed her full frustration by placing a huge jute basket full of vegetables on my right foot.

Apparently, it took me a few minutes to gather my strength to react to the acute pain on my right foot, as a result of the mercy bestowed upon me by the hefty lady!

I told her she had conveniently rested the basket on my foot.

She retorted back, asking:

“Vera yenga vechhi tholayaradhu?? Ingadhan moochu vidakuda yedam illye?”

[Meaning: “Where the hell am I to put it then? There is no place here to breathe even!”]

Hurriedly, without wanting to hear another verbatim to be blurted out from the dear lady, I kept my big mouth shut.

I then indulged in the process of slowly releasing my foot from underneath the heavy vegetable basket, inch by inch.

In what looked like a few decades, the train reached the next station.

To me, it only meant more crowd.

But the hefty lady somehow managed to shove in a few lean and wiry girls who worked for the leather company next to Airport.

She then got herself some place to stand by me comfortably.

Looking down, she pushed the basket towards herself and said:

“Romba valikuda papa? Vera edamey illayema na yenna panrathu?”

[Meaning: “Does your foot pain real bad? What am I to do dear, there was no place around.”]

I was taken by total surprise at her sudden concern about my hurt foot.

I beamed at her with an assurance that I was perfectly okay and that it didn’t hurt much.

In fact, it did hurt very badly.

With the numb-some pain that I was going through, I couldn’t actually gauge the depth of the damage done to my poor little tail-ender toes.

Having received my endorsement about the state of my hurt leg, she switched on again to her ranting.

This time it was about the new crowds during rainy times, giving the usual passengers big-time trouble because of lack of space.

Then she spoke about her morbid profit rate from selling vegetables on a heavy-set day such as this.

And what would she do if the rain continued this way, spoiling the meager money that she was making?

Although I nodded, I was wondering what a world it is.

We wish, pray, chant, do Poojas and perform Yagnyas wishing for rain.

But when the rain decides to drench us as an answer to all the Poojas and Yagnyas carried out in favor of the same, we LAMENT and CRIB about it.

Just another perfect example of the fact that life is always a mishmash of ironies and paradoxes.

A sudden jerk of the train, brought about with the blow of its whistle, got me back to the practical world.

I found the lady next to me grinning and saying:

“Yenna papa, na sollradhu sari dhaney?”

Meaning: “What dear, don’t you think I am right?”

Well, apparently, I didn’t know what she was referring to, as I had lost myself in my thoughts about rain and its consequences.

So I managed with a grin in return and a nod.

That made her feel pleased and kept her happy at that.

With that blow of the whistle, I was expecting the next station to approach very soon.

Unfortunately, that never happened for the next 15 minutes.

I was getting restless.

At last, when I inquired, I was told that the train was waiting for clearance.

It seemed like the dangling half-dead signal had totally broken down last night, as a result of the wind blowing at some hundred and odd kmph.

Very insightful, I thought, and felt pissed off!

After what seemed like hours, actually 15 or so minutes, we got manual clearance from the station guard.

The station guard was late for the day because of the mad rain. Ha Ha.

He also had no knowledge about the knocked-down signal.

He got threats from a few furious passengers about being reported to his higher authorities for failing in his duties.

Having done all that, the train got back to life again.

My heart was pounding and racing more than the speed of the train, because as for now, I was already running late for about 20 minutes and I had one more station to go.

The rain hadn’t slowed down all the while.

Amidst all the pushing, pulling and hodge-podge of the crowd, there were shouts and screams of missing and broken umbrellas.

Thankfully, I was wearing a jacket, so I wasn’t running the risk of losing one or breaking one.

Then the train stopped abruptly.

This definitely meant it was not the station where I was supposed to get down.

It did not move an inch for the next 20 minutes.

By now, I was definitely undergoing a repetitive stress injury because of the excessive load on my shoulders.

This was the result of my trekking bag, stuffed with my engineering drafter, chart pipe, books, lunch, water bottle and other college essentials.

I was holding on to the central pole at the entrance as if my life depended on it.

Actually, it did!

The train started moving, just after my feet went numb and I could feel a spring in them.

It moved only to stop midway, a few yards from where it had started.

Another twenty minutes in the middle of nowhere.

I tried to perfect my transcendental patience practice.

It just didn’t work.

I gave up.

Every inch of my body either ached or felt funny.

I felt absolutely hopeless.

And then it was time to get another announcement.

Due to some engine choke-out, we were told that the train wouldn’t move any further.

We were to walk for about one kilometer to reach the last station, which was also my destination.

Destination Tambaram!

How did I know that something as worse as this was waiting for me in this train journey?

My gut feeling had come true, the one I had got at the first look of this train propelling itself as slowly as it could to reach my boarding point.

Nothing worse than being a skeptic, I told myself.

Too ghostly, I say!

I started thinking about who said, “Thank God I’m an atheist.”

I found no answer to that.

So I gave up.

I surpassed.

Now, all I could do was eagerly wait for the moment I would be pushed down by the raging and growling crowd jostling me all over.

Then I would be put back to square one, to trudge my way to my destination once again.

Just the way it had all started!

Finally, after what felt like a complete geological era of delays, stoppages, signal failures, engine failures, foot injuries, shoulder injuries, emotional injuries and repeated tests of my faith in humanity, Indian Railways and weather forecasting, I climbed down from the train.

The rain, of course, was still at it.

By then I had stopped negotiating with God.

In fact, I had reached a stage of spiritual evolution where I was willing to negotiate with absolutely anybody.

The Rain God.

The Train God.

The Signal God.

The Engine God.

Even the Vegetable Basket God.

As I dragged myself through the rain towards Tambaram, I suddenly spotted the vegetable vendor marching ahead like a victorious army commander, basket balanced perfectly, rain completely ignored and spirit utterly indestructible.

Here I was worrying about attendance, lectures and embarrassment.

She was worrying about selling vegetables before they became vegetables-in-soup.

Somehow that put things into perspective.

By the time I reached college, drenched from head to toe, twenty shades darker from railway soot, carrying enough luggage to qualify as a Sherpa and approximately forty-five minutes late, I realized something important.

The train journey had finally ended.

The adventure had not.

Because waiting for me at the college gate was a far more dangerous force than thunderstorms, overcrowded compartments, broken signals and engine failures combined.

My lecturer.

And unlike the train, she was running exactly on time.