100 years of The Titanic

We all cried when Jack just drifted off into the abyss, when his deep eyes were fading away in the cold Atlantic Ocean. Titanic was a classic and hundred years have passed since that devious day when the Unsinkable sank. A mammoth piece of ice crumbled and humbled the human arrogance that was proclaimed the floating palace. The Titanic that once symbolized wealth and dismay alike later thanks to James Cameron symbolized eternal love and the perennial human spirit. Titanic the movie we all loved and cherishes, Titanic the ship we hardly knew. The frictional presence of Jack and rose made up our dreams, but the real survivors of the terrible night were left in the folds of history textbooks.

Titanic: The Unsinkable Ship

15^th August 1912, exactly an hundred years back was a dark day in the human history, At around 2:20 today early morning occurred the greatest disaster in Maritime History, One that would later become a legend on its own, The sinking of The RMS Titanic. The Largest passenger liner of its time, enjoying the kind of status that the Queen Elizabeth II cruise ship now enjoys, was an engineering marvel of the time. One that was proclaimed to be invincible, one that was destined for greatness, She did make it to the history books but for a sadder reason.

The reasons for the disaster largely remain unknown. Yes! We know it hit an iceberg and sank, but why? Even with ships frantically receiving information of passing icebergs why would it head directly into it at full speed, head on? May be it was the failure of the radio receivers to recogni9ze the relay send to them by ships such as SS Californian and SS Amerika. Or was this the Captain’s failure to assess the situation and took misinformed decisions. I guess we may never know the real series of events that caused this rather unfortunate disaster. With a death toll of a little over 1500, 1514 to be exact, the disaster was the worst of its kind so far. The iconic image of the ship breaking in two in the icy waters of the Atlantic is haunting.

Titanic: The Movie ( 1991 )

“Titanic is a 1997 American epic romantic historical disaster film directed, written, co-produced, and co-edited by James Cameron”. This is how the Wikipedia describes the film. A film like no other and a fractionalized love story that tells the tale of the Titanic and the emotions it carried with it to the icy depths. Apart from just being a commercial and critical success the film made its way into many hearts all around the world. Khalid Hosseini in his book the Kite runner describes how Kabul was gripping in the ‘Titanic Fever’.

Titanic: The Photo Album

My Dysfunctional Family

I have no parents, I have a mother, and I have a father but no parents. In the conflicts of greater interests and in the great battles of domestic blitzkrieg I lost my parents. They must have thought I was dumb and mind numb, they must have thought I have no ears nor my eyes in-adept in the prevalent darkness, they must have thought I have not seen the fall of my family.  They must have thought I was deep asleep, wandering in dreams that every child cherish while they wage their futile battles to quench the devil’s thirst.

 

The times are tranquil now, the ominous silence persists, no more are there swearing and curses, no more the threatening sounds of apocalypse. The wounds have healed and the lines draw and as in all war we all lost. The battle has left scares deep in my heart, which no amount of time shall ever heal. What surprises me that they never felt to leave it, they left their love, they theft all the meanings that the institution of marriage held but still they have failed to leave each other and search happiness elsewhere. As much as I would love to have my family, I am not selfish, as much as the tales of evil steps trouble me; the hope for a happier life for my parents’ persists. They are perfect for each other, they know it or not, but in their frivolous pursuits of domination they doomed all hopes of happiness that the relation would ever bear. It’s sad that they would deem to that level of disgust that they could be no more stand the others presence within the same set of walls.

But, I am not sad, I am not devastated. When the days were dark and when the paths echoed with sinister forebodings. I clutched to my heart and believed in a brighter days. I took refuge among stacks of books and in the thought that ‘when winter is here can spring be far behind”. I collected my fallen self, patched what was left, made a pact with myself. I pledge myself that this is not what I shall become, I made it clear to myself that I should learn, I decided to be not like my parents when a world full of children promised to follow their parents way. I knew I would be alone and silence was my best bet, it must have hurt them bad had I took any other path. I assured myself to suffer in silence and rejuvenate when it’s all over. I went into the fade where all my sabbaticals had but two guests, me and myself.

This was an escape a less violent one, one of pure suffering and at the end the promises came true. There was spring, and there were flowers and there were butterflies. The was the fairies and there were the rainbows. But, just one sadness that I think will persist in this world of much bliss. The melancholic sense of the absence of a hand to hold on to. The poignant fact that I have no shoulder to lean on to. Out in this new world, I was to fend on my own, build it all up from scratch. But I was happy, I was peaceful.

I know that many will pity for the misfortunes I had, But I tell you don’t be. Be happy that I am what I chose to be. At the end of this very difficult choice lied one rather rare gift. The gift was the ability to let go and I think now I can after all. This blog is the final act in the rather elaborate ritual of severance.

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TED: The Ideas Worth Spreading

Technology Entertainment Design (TED) was an idea put forward by Richard Saul Wurman and Harry Marks in the year 1984, they believed that the idea had the power and potential to change the world. The provided the entrepreneurs of tomorrow a platform to present, scrutinize and evolve their idea into actions.  Held annually since the year 1990 it has housed some very serious talents and some very wonderful ideas. From Al Gore to Jimmy Wales, Legend after legend has donned this stage, where innovation was a mere habit.

The TED mission statement reads on.

“We believe passionately in the power of ideas to change attitudes, lives and ultimately,

The world. So we're building here a clearinghouse that offers free knowledge and

inspiration from the world's most inspired thinkers, and also a community of curious

souls to engage with ideas and each other.”

Every time you hear a TED talk it leaves you in awe, awe at the progress of technology, awe at the profoundness of human thought and awe at the magnificence of humanity’s creative abundance. Each video, portraying an interesting idea that could possibly change the world tomorrow. A cool conference of highly successful people, putting their head together to solve tomorrow’s big problems. What strikes me most about the TED conferences are the sheer scope and scale of the ideas. People inventing state of the art technologies and people finding innovative ways to work with humanities age old problems.

Pranav Mistri with his 6th Sense Device

That’s all about TED in a nutshell. I suggest you see a TED video often, If you have never you should see one right now. Just to stay in touch with the humanitarian and innovative side of the humanity.

Find more about TED at www.ted.com

An Obituary

The past week was not so particularly good; with two funerals in a row you can expect anything from it either. I hate funerals for a start, they make me rather uncomfortable. But where I stand different from the vast majority of people is on point of perspective, I hate funerals not because I have a hard time understanding life and contemplating death and neither because those are the moments that reveal the evanescence of existence. I hate funerals because of the way it is celebrated rather mourned. I believe death has to be celebration not a moment of sadness, it is a moment if liberation the point of the ultimate nirvana.

May I think so because  nobody close enough to me have so far died to cause me a traumatic state of mind or neither have I connected so well with the great people who have passed away so far in my close kith and kin. I do understand and uphold the possibility of a complete crackdown in ideology whilst someone so dear does pass away. If any do hold a stance not in unison to me do take me for a nubile and let it go.

I am writing this as a memorial for the souls whom I knew and did not have the good will to know before they disposed their mortal selves.  The first of it was the father of a friend, rather an acquaintance. I must say it was a very bad day to get to know him His father’s funeral is by no way the best of days to know a person and understand him. It’s so strange yet so true that in such dire moments we see people with no makeup, they are clear like crystal. Amidst the broken mind and the fl9owing tears they don’t have the time to put up a facet.  They are bared inside out and all they crave is a pat on their shoulder and a shoulder to rest on.

He was a wonderful person, teacher and personality, Not that I know him personally in the eyes of my friend and his mother I saw what a human he was, a true noble soul. In the words of anger that they uttered with divine disgust I was the loving father he was and in their omniscient silence I saw what and how much he meant to them. After all what could a man what from his short mortal stay than to leave a legacy behind, not in big books of history or in bronze statues but in the hearts of men and women whom he lived with and shared his life and its worth with. A man of incalculable value and an owner of a wide heart. May he rest in peace and may his family rejoice in the memories he left behind for them.

Next to depart was a person of such adorable nature, grandmother of my roommates, a very special person to him hence a very special person to me. I have seen her, been in her presence hardly minutes yet those moments shine through the kaleidoscope of my mind. She was a real women with an almost divine aura about her. I don’t want to talk more about her as I know that my friend will obviously read it and it’s hard enough for him I don’t want to make it any harder.  I really wish he didn’t read it at all.

It’s unbelievable isn’t it that in every second almost somebody very dear and real to somebody just cease to exist, some we know many we don’t know. Death is a ubiquitous truth that happens with no warning, no pattern nor any premonitions and yet its remains the most beautiful of all things that could happen to a person. Death is just the end of a dream we call life and death is an awakening into a world beyond the boundaries of this dream we call reality. Death is never an end it’s just the beginning of another existence.

Mile Sur Mera Thumara

One for the sake of the old times, when all we had was Doordarshan and its occasionally broadcasted patriotic songs. This one was a jewel among the many that would pop up occasionally and that never fails to ignite in us the feeling of brotherhood.

How simpler can it ever be to say that we are one and our voice is one. Mile Sur Mera Thumara was a concept developed by the Lok Seva Sanchar Parishad in 1988, But this particular song was composed by Ashok Patki and written by Piyush Pandey. The video managed to highlight the rich diversity and linguistic differences and the integrity that prevailed in spite of that in our nation of unity and diversity. 

The newer version is nothing but a shadow the original, its such a shame that in spite of all the rich talent we have we are unable to reiterate the spirit of this song again. Somewhere along the line they lost track of  what the purpose of the song was and what it stood for and what it means to the billion people of this nation.

The Lyrics for all who wants to just sing along

[hi] milē sur merā tumhārā, tō sur banē hamārā

sur kī nadiyān̐ har diśā sē, bahte sāgar men̐ milē

bādalōn̐ kā rūp lēkar, barse halkē halkē

milē sur merā tumhārā, tō sur banē hamārā

milē sur merā tumhārā

[ks] Chaain taraz tai myain taraz, ik watt baniye saayen taraz

[pa] tērā sur milē mērē sur dē nāl, milkē baṇē ikk navān̐ sur tāl

[hi] milē sur merā tumhārā, tō sur banē hamārā

[sn] mun̐hin̐jō sur tun̐hin̐jē sān̐ piyārā milē jad̤ahin̐, gīt asān̐jō madhur tarānō baṇē tad̤ahin̐

[ur] sur ka darya bahte sagar men mile

[pa] bādalān̐ dā rūp laikē, barsan haulē haulē

[ta] Isaindhal namm iruvarin suramum namadhagum

Dhisai veru aanalum aazhi ser aarugal Mugilai

mazhaiyai pozhivadu pol isai

Nam isai

[kn] nanna dhvanige ninna dhvaniya, sēridante namma dhvaniya

[te] nā svaramu nī svaramu sangamamai, mana svaranḡa avatarinchē

[ml] eṉṯe svaravum niṅṅkaḷoṭe svaravum, ottucērnnu namoṭe svaramāy

[bn] tōmār śūr mōdēr śūr, sriṣṭi kōruk ōikōśūr

[as] sriṣṭi hauk aikyatān

[or] tuma āmara svarara miḷana, sriṣṭi kari chālu ekā tāna

[gu] maḷē sur jō tārō mārō, banē āpṇō sur nirāḷō

[mr] mājhyā tumchyā juḷtā tārā, madhur surānchyā barastī dhārā

[hi] sur kī nadiyān̐ har diśā sē, bahte sāgar men̐ milē

bādalōn̐ kā rūp lēkar, barse halkē halkē

milē sur merā tumhārā, tō sur banē hamārā

‘Fuck’ing in Modern Times

No! No! No! It is not porn. Don’t get the wrong idea just because I used the word ‘fuck’ and because I didn’t take the trouble to substitute the middle letters with fancy characters. I was not expecting children for readers and I firmly believe all who came up here are mature enough to distinguish fuck from ‘fuck’. So anyhow if it’s getting too uncomfortable for anybody then I promise to consider their sentiment and keep it to the minimal. If anybody did drop by expecting sleazy stuff then I do request them kindly to go somewhere else, not because I don’t want them to read my article in fact I would like from you to read it all and leave a comment and have a nice time. But I do not want to disappoint anyone so I may as well give a heads-up.

It was just recently when I was travelling in train that it happened; I was just fooling around the corridor walking to and fro without thinking much about anything and I accidently bummed into somebody who was obviously doing the same. And guess he just walks up to me and calls me a ‘Fuck Face’. How come he can identify the face I put up when I actually do it? I left that at it with a rather odd expression on my face but it got me thinking. People have become so accustomed to using this word in their public and private life that they can’t just keep it out of their mouth anymore. I does bothers me that people are now swearing on the fly, I know to expect chivalry and Victorian mannerisms is not realistic but a bit of civility can’t hurt, would it?

The one thing about our fast paced life is that we don’t have time to bother, we don’t have time to bother about ourselves much less the time to actually bother about what kind of words come in our mouth from time to time. Is this abysmal sense of civility what we would like to pass on to our children? I think it’s obvious whom to blame when  a child shows up with words such as ‘fuck’, ‘bitch’ , ‘whore’ and I you know I am sticking to the civiler ones. Please don’t misunderstand me for an ambassador of the ‘acclaimed’ moral police force but the truth is that I do not find it appealing that people educated and otherwise using words that are derogatory and offensive as a viable and acceptable form of small talk.

Every person has the liberty to use the words he like and the liberty to choose how and when he uses it too. I do use all the words I mentioned and many dirtier ones in my life but I don’t start every one of my sentences with ‘fuck’ or ‘bitch’. It’s unacceptable enough that you start swearing people for every little thing out there, but squeezing things like these (no I am not going to teach you anything your mother is going to be angry at me for ) them into every one of your sentences that’s way over the top of my head.

Often it amazes me how people manage to come up with random propositions that go with these words and give it horrendous meanings. It would not be a random surprise if it happens that ‘fuck’ is a word that goes with the most propositions out there. Then again I can neither advocate the use nor the disownment of such words but all I would like to propose a sensible use of them in life. You do have to say ‘fuck off’ when what you mean is really ‘fuck off’ but should you really have it in every sentence you utter? I can tell you one thing with at-most surety it’s not cool and definitely not Gen-Y, you are only fooling yourself if you think so!

Heaven is a place on Earth with You

Every morning I wish to wake up by your side, let your smile bright up my day. Every Saturday all I wish is to cuddle up to you under the bed sheet you picked. To feel your fragile skin against by bare chest and sniff the lovely scent of your hair. Every lousy evening all I want is to lie on your lap and laugh out loud at your silly jokes. All you have ever done is make my life a bit brighter every day and I have absolutely no idea what I have ever done to deserve you. The funny thing about life is it’s been too generous to me; after all it just gave me you.

Every time I see your eyes my mind takes a journey through all the stupid mistakes that took me to you. And when I look upon it now I know one thing for sure, every step was a step in the right direction, and every step just took me one step closer to you. Life was one hell of a roller coaster and I owe to god for being able to share it with you. Every now and then when I am scared I have a hand to catch on to and every moment of absolute pleasure I have someone to hug. Heaven is just a place on earth and it’s simply because I get to spend time. Heaven is just a place on earth because I have you.

The College Road Trip

Have I ever told you how cupid played my side of the story, I guess not. So here goes my little love story on wheels.

It was on a cold December evening that we started on our college road trip, but little did I know that my life is not going to be the same again after this trip. In between the cold caskets of December nights with the winter mist casting its shadows on our window and slow tremors of our rather creaky railroad moments bloomed. There were the smiles and there were the looking in the eyes, slow humming and the magnificent feeling of her warm skin against mine. This was one journey that was about to offer much more than my most wishes combined together and it just had one hell of an opening night.  Of the many unforgettable things that happened in this week away, I for the sake of sticking to the mushy stuff skip a few of the things that have my tummy aching  even as I just write about it.

  

Our special moment must be the one we had during our shopping time in Bangalore (formally Bengaluru, but still Bangalore is romantic to me). In the city of gardens bloomed our dreams and I should say for a city of flower it has its jinx on us even now just for the sheer number of couples it generated over a single night. I must say electronic city is the least romantic part of the metropolis and there we were lost, unfortunately I, she and a few very good friends of ours were lost in its many nooks and cranny. For starters we were all there as a group to get a few souvenirs for taking home and among the boulevards and global retails houses we lost track of time and direction. Walking from one giant glass paned window to another is not a good way to know where one is going but who really cares; the world was a truly wonderful place then. After a very long time a huge number of shops we realized the unfortunate truth. The college bus has left without us!

It was a pretty good moment to freak out and since I am writing the story I am going to say I freaked out last but me and friends are yet to come to a conclusion on who freaked out first and both parties don’t seem to want to lose any bit of ground. So since I freaked out last it was rather a scary situation to be, we were in city none of us ever has been to and it was getting a bit dark too. So we called up someone on the phone who happened to get the bus and thanks to him we got to know that we were not the only ones to miss the bus and we also learned that the bus is somewhere far and would be coming back for us in about half an hour, Hweeee talk about a relief. So relieved and happy with an extra half an hour of shopping left we started making our return trip to the boarding point and guess what, there was our bus standing there at our boarding point. We were about a couple hundred meters away from the bus.

We started running all together towards the bus furious at the idiot who misled us and believe it or not just then the stupid bus started moving. Then it happened in the heat of the moment without another thought I took her hands and started running towards the bus. In a few hazy steps I realized what I did and I dropped her hand and I stopped. I looked at her eyes and she was just staring at me, amidst all the yelling and screaming from my ‘lovely and civil’ friends we stood there for a few moments. These are the kind of moments where we go for the kiss in Hollywood style movies but all she did was smile and I was a bit shy to kiss her then with all those guys staring at us.

Oh! By the way we did lose this bus and another bus had to come get us, and all my friends were kind of happy we missed it then. But one thing is for sure amongst all the adventures and the moments of closeness we shared in this trip including dining together many times then and getting to tie a necklace round her neck this is the moment I remember the trip by. It was the one moment that made all the difference in an otherwise coed relationship. Holding hands and falling in the abyss of love only come second to the magic of the moment with all the blurred up lights and kaleidoscopic boulevard of dreams.

We went on to be together all the time in the trip and still very much is happening around us, the magic of that moment may be special to that night but the love is so omniscient now that it’s a Bangalore trip every time I am with her and now… She is my girl and I her man, bounded by more than just a ring and thread.

The Crap They Sell Us at Schools

What is India heading to? It must be total anarchy or may be something worse. When confronted with the question of what I would like to change in the society if I could, I went over an awful lot of possibilities. I considered personal stuffs like changing my hairstyle to my stop biting my nails and universal stuffs like a world without boundaries (we ought to talk about that some time sooner). But then it struck me very of handedly that the one thing that must be changed in India is its Victorian ‘tailor made for slaves’ education system by our huge hearted well-wisher Lord Macaulay. But with all the crap that we are being fed in our schools now one has to ask themselves is it still called ‘education’ anymore.

I must be unfair in placing the blame on Lord Macaulay; in fact I am wrong in doing so. His intension was not to create the entrepreneurs scientists and thinkers who would one day propel the nation to unprecedented heights but his was an even harder job. His job was to create an educational system that would create enough donkeys who would work on the largely underpaid and ‘sub-standard‘ jobs that they could just not watch an English man do. And he was fair in churning out our matriculation system that we still proudly uphold today. One cannot call them schools they must be called cattle farms. He was a complete success in what he did, but we were the real idiots who bought their sinister plot with not a thought going into it.  

But, now our educational system which, I was once a part of a few years back was indeed not all that bad. There were some good things in it too like raisins in a cake. But now it’s just like a nightmare gone horribly wrong. Each person adding his whims and fancies into it doesn’t really give us a comprehensive and informed educational system. When todays educationalist go on to the extent of defining a forest vaguely as ‘a group of tree’ , the doubt starts arising in one’s mind whether they really are educated enough to be called educationalist. I think they get some kind of sadistic pleasure by ruining the life and dreams of today’s bright ones.

We need to revolutionize and revitalize our educational system or at the very least make our ‘antique’ system catch up with the today. What the nation now needs are brilliant entrepreneurs, stratergicians and researchers who would become the corner stone of its continued success. When a nation such as ours finds itself in the middle of a fast evolving world it need to put up its best face to be part of that world and to continue being there we need educated and capable people’.

Simply copying any educational system from the west may not be a very good alternative. Though highly successful in generating quality research and enriching potential, the cultural aspect and the mindset of the prevalent society play a significant role in its success too. What we need is not a ditto copy, but of possible inclusion of its best practices to our educational system and make the exaggerant focus on marks must go dim. It’s true we need more quality people but that doesn’t mean more people with maximum marks but we need more people who understand what they do.

If one thing must change about the mindset of the people then it must be this, the parents should stop pursuing the career of their children. They should realize that they can’t live their child’s life too. They should give their children a chance to live out their dream. Children may not be best judges of things but they know their hearts and their odds, if they believe they can succeed, shouldn’t they be given a chance to try. If this one factor about our society does change, there will be a reciprocating change in our educational system and a transformation in it for the best. The only thing that drives entrepreneurship and research is passion and its severe shortage is what the nation is suffering from, and why is that? The simple answer is the overwhelming focus on a ‘safe career’ forced upon today’s children.

Indeed our educational setup is plagued by a hoard of problems; the only reason for it can be the lack of timely changes that never happened. Now we are faced with a problem, whether to radically alter our system or slowly change it such that it can play catch up at the cost of valuable time. I incline towards a radical transformation, I believe a couple of unrest in the department will be all the resultant problems from such an action but it will produce the desired results in time. But I need not be the final say in that matter. It is a complicated and sensitive issue and requires an equally though-about and subtle solution. But one thing is sure, we have already reached the precipice now all we have is total oblivion or a resurrection and the choice is ours to act about.

Nuclear Years

An animation by the artist Isao Hashimoto which depicts every nuclear bomb explosion from the year  1945 to 1998 that ever took place. the video though very succinct is an eye opener, often rather profound.

After all 2053 is a very large number when it comes to nuclear explosions. The video depicts the worlds deadliest 7 nations and their arsenals of doom.

The Many Colours

Red, Blue, green, yellow, Pink, [purple and I lost count as I looked on at the countless vibrant dunes of colors in the shop. ‘Holi’ the day of the colors is here and it’s a nightmare to be out on the street on this day. They won’t leave any one out, and no one knows an escape from the clouds of colors that rise from every nook and cranny of the street. It is mayhem and its totally unpredictable. It’s the one day you regret ever making friends as you don’t want them anywhere in a one mile radius near you. You don’t have a single safe place to hide safely from their sinister intentions; they infiltrate everywhere including your bedroom. The streets are the worst, you have no idea from where a bucket full of colored water will hit you and you have no escape from the rogue pichkari bearers running lose on the streets and what not.  You are under street from the two foot toddler and they are more dangerous and reckless than their adult counterparts.

In short it is a wonderful and colorful day to live and its one hell of a festival to be part of. The celebrations are heart warming and the sense of brotherhood reverberating. Huh! I can hear the foot steps of my friends approaching my door now and guess what I have a surprise planned for them. Poor chaps they are expecting to a me hiding carefully from them and they are in for a surprise.

Happy Holi and let the colors lose and the spirits free.

PS: I have to see their faces! He! He! He!

The Day of the Women

Every once in a while when something sinister happens, we start talking about, their security, their safety, their lives and the several clichés that we so randomly use. The only exception to it ought to be this and a handful of other anniversaries. And now I am not going to be doing the same here just because it’s a cliché.

There were many women in my life and quiet a few are worth mention. And there are of course a few that I will not talk about ever, not even a passing reference or a unwelcomed memory. But in the making of the man I am today there are quiet a few skillful hands that that belonged to the some very lovely ladies all along. I must be very thankful, rather indebted to these very special souls.

I don’t know what being an women would come to mean and how it feels to be being the daughter of Eve. I can only imagine and my imagination ought to be highly restrictive. After all the key is to a women’s thought is yet to be identified. But it must feel wonderful to be the one to possess the gift of life a rare and divine responsibility that the heavens entrusted to them. The continuation of humanity ought to be a very demanding responsibility.

When we talk about women, its just natural to talk of fertility, the wonderful gift of giving birth and ‘The Mother’.  For centauries we have worshipped this divine gift and have always embraced it close at heart. So I am thankful to my very loving Mother whose sole love and care and the occasional scolding and scorning made me into the made of value I believe I am today. Then there is her mother, my grand mother who with her love and unbelievably tasty magic made sure that I was always full and stuffed to the brim. I must thank these two wonderful ‘one hell of a woman’s but I wont, I just love them and I will leave it at that.

Women have a heart so big, yet so small. It’s heard to get out once you have found your way in and its hard to find your way back into it once you have been thrown out. There are many women I love and I loved in the many (twenty one) years I lived. There are the ones that require a special mention and the ones that may have a passing reference, but irrespective of that they all have made significant contributions to the big and small things I have done and became. I have two aunts who were my world when I grew up and they are quite amiable too. And one of them I solely remember from her photograph on my grandfather’s desk and the weekly call she made to my grandparents house during my stay there. The two women own much of my construction and rightfully so.

Falling in and out of love is not a prerogative of men, women do it to often with such deceptive elegance and for a chauvinistic argument they do blame it on men always. But we both know the truth.  Then again its not the breaking and breaking of love that matters but living it. And from all the romantic relationships I have had and all the wonderful souls I have been with and the angel whom I have decided to share my life with (officially and officially she doesn’t know yet) I have had a life’s worth of wonderful experiences.

I have been blabbering for too long now and I don’t intend to take it any further than this. So for all the wonderful ladies I missed but not forgotten. All the teachers, friends and acquaintances and all the wonderful time they cared to spend with me I have just this to say.

Sorry! I missed to mention you

And

Thank you! For all the things and times you cared to share.

    

An Amazing Ad

When I found this ad lying around in a dusty corner of this laptop, My first reaction was to throw it right out. It was old, it was viewed and it was unused for a long time. But then I thought of just playing it once and I just had to share it with all you wonderful people.

Its not everyday that you come across that really touches your heart and it has something, something more than just the brand it represents. This ad contains some of the finest emotions in all its subtlety. It truly is a remarkable and beautiful add, very moving utterly touching.

It's What is Not Said

Life is rather elusive yet we live it as if we know all about. In its rather innumerable strangeness lies its beauty and the very reason for the invaluably of life. Life has certain unique ways its chose to be and it has rather solid reasons for it remains so. Who could have thought that what we prefer not to say is much more significant than what we spit out. I have heard people speak in volumes about the importance of saying at times and not saying at times, but what they carefully or carelessly neglect is the significance silence has in ones life as it is. May be that’s because silence is as unattainable as most of the good things in life, they never come easy.

In the many things that we prefer not to say for obvious reasons remains for obvious reasons the fundamental building block to solving our many a million problems. It sounds so obvious doesn't it; keep your mouth shut and no more problems. It ought to be that simple yet we find it increasingly difficult to keep our mouth shut, don't we. The truth and trick is to know when to keep it shut and when to shout aloud. The particular thing about life is that it is not whether we fight or not, fighting is fundamental to marriage as sex, to borrow the idea of Jon fighting is instantaneous, creative and deeply personal, in fact everything that sex ought to be. The trick is not to over do it, know when to stop and know what not to tell. Like any fair fights you win some you lose some, and isn't the reason for the fight not to break up. It serves as a excellent opportunity to let out the steam and make you calm down.

Every fights is a potential treat, you could convince yourself that your fights are just that the normal average household is used to. But the unfortunate truth is there is no simple fight, in every fight lies the indomitable ability to develop into something formidable, something that could wreck your household. Every fight requires the active care of both persons involved to prevent it from developing into anything more than what it is now. A fight is always volatile and ever so tempting. 

Every time you are presented with the option to win, but at what cost it comes is a matter of great concern. Would you want to say something sinister and unforgivable and win or would you want to bow out like a gentleman in the true sense of the word and preserve what you have. It often bothers me whether winning is worth it, why do one ever have to win to win a domestic fight, i ask myself Wouldn't i be happier to just lose and have my family than celebrate my victory as someone else very dear to me lies shattered. Isn't it her loss my loss and isn't her victory just as mine as it is hers. Yet at every fight it seems just as different a story as it possibly can, the spontaneous and explosive creativeness and the intense emotional and personal involvement leaves but little room for a thoughtful fight. But one thing is certain before you say anything too much you are sure to choke and it sure is going to get caught in your throat, that's when you ought to decide whether to say something you are sure to choke on, at the heat of the moment. Its always uptown you to decide and the question always remain.

To say or not to say.

The Little Big Things

Every journey is a new experience, no matter how often, no matter how short they tend to be. It’s not the journey that matters, not as much as the people we get to meet and life we get to experience. Every dawn and every dusk brings along with it a hoard of experiences that are just waiting to be discovered. This is the story of just one of the many interesting people I got to meet in my numerous journeys that made me realise that life is not something sacred; it is what happens right in front of our eyes, everyday. Don’t for one second think that I am an adept traveller, the sad truth is that I started travelling out of necessity and though I prefer the familiar comforts of my writing desk it has given me a chance to experience life as it is, raw and unadulterated.

It must be in one of those dreary Friday evenings that keep coming up every week, offering a strange intoxicating mix of anticipation, relief and happiness that this happened. I was supposedly going home after a week’s hectic schedule and it was literally killing me that I had to wait further for it to happen. I have had a practise of going with a couple of really goods friends; we have been travelling home together since we were travelling home at all. But today they had to pack and they were late, late enough to let me fend on my own. The necessities of the travel insisted that I find a suitable mode of transportation, an autorikshaw ( for those of you unfamiliar with the word, it is a three wheeled public transport vehicle in black and yellow or either, refer any Bollywood flick to know more . It’s easy to spot and hard to forget, for us it’s just a way of life like taxi is to New Yorkers.) is what I had in mind. It was not hard to find one, certainly not on a Friday.

Okay! That matters too!

Soon I landed a certain driver who was more than just willing to take us to the railway station that we needed to get, but since my friends were still packing I had to wait for them to come. Poor chap readily agreed to wait along with me; I must say he was a jolly good fellow to spend time with. Now just for the record I had to wait a good 45 minutes for my friends to come and hence being late for all the right trains. But then again that gave me this rather valuable lesson in life.

The little ones knows much more about little things than us!

The long wait let us on the streets with nothing much top do but talk, though a practical lover of silence I would always like some company at times. He insisted on talking as he would occasionally blurt out some random question or the other (like does every one speak English in the campus) and so and so. I did take a liking to him. Things didn’t get any interesting till a friend of his dropped by and they got talking. The truth is I never intended to eavesdrop on those guys as I was happily trotting away in my own imaginary world. The startling reminiscence of innocence in their routine chat drew my attention to them and their conversations. He was talking about his luck and I was instantly interested in knowing what lady luck has bestowed upon him, the truth was it was me, rather us. I realised then how much it meant for them to have the weekly trips that we made, our travels were more essential to them than it were ever to them.

In their casual conversation lied an unmistakable scent of innocence that is otherwise unseen and unheard of today. He was talking about how lucky he was to have gotten customers that day and how he and friends were celebrating in their free time yesterday and so and so. Its not what they talked that made it important, its how is said it, how with a smile and a attitude to match he made it seem that the very basic things in life were something else entirely. Its how his words and the sentences they formed transcended what would have been just a ordinary life into a story worth talking about, a life worthy of mention. In the simplest sense he taught me how life is in every little thing we do. And what I learnt sitting under the bright evening sun on a concrete sidewall by a rather crowded piece of asphalt.

My Logo for College Fest

This a snap of the logo I designed for my college fest!, Its not much but I wanted you all to see. Comment away !.