Order The Chaos

A Good Question

2009-12-09T16:54:00.001+05:30

"How much of what we readily identify as 'progress' in urban-industrial society is really the undoing of evils inherited from the last round of technological innovation?"

Quoted from: "Where the Wasteland Ends", Theodore Roszak, 1972.

यह टाइटल हिन्दी मे क्यों लिखा है??

2009-01-23T22:05:00.004+05:30

While I understand that there is a much greater emphasis on ethnicity these days, I do not know why my blogger account suddenly converts my post titles into Hindi - nor do I know how to change it. If anyone has any ideas that could help me choose when I want to change the Title language, shoot me a mail. Otherwise, just shoot me.

Anyway, the topic of today is, Inspiration Expiration. I am required by college to design a piece of headgear for my 3D class, and our teacher has been giving me the toughest time ever. She wants us to take inspiration from anything we choose, convert it into a motif (or a set thereof), and create our headgear. Now, that seems simple enough, doesn't it? Well, it's not. I can think of so many things that inspire me, but I can't create the motifs for them that are simple enough to create, nor can I blend them together. I have had a whole set of ideas that include Animals, Eyeballs, Organic Shapes, Things to do with the Head, Psychedelica, Nikki Catsouras' Car Crash (which is bloody damn gory), Gullwing Doors and the global Phoenix, but there's nothing synchronic that I can see between them.
I know that I could just pout together some 2-bit piece of junk and talk my way around it being a fantastic concept that is 2 years ahead of its time, but that's not how I want to achieve my grades. I was really looking forward to this project, armed with an armada of ideas that one-by-one got shot down during 3 sessions of discussions with my teacher. Why? Because they are all direct and projects like that have been created in the past - she wants something new, fresh, and totally eye-catching. So do I, but now I'm stuck.
Maybe it has something to do with creator's block, maybe it has to do with laziness, maybe I jsut can't think anymore. But I need to submit this thing - complete - within the next week and I don't even have an idea. Someone please help me out.

An Account of the Events after Sunday Evening

2008-10-10T03:00:00.004+05:30

I had an awesome dream the other evening - epic, actually. It started off with me going to college and getting my attendance from this lady I don't like, so I told her that I'm late cause my mum died, and so she gave it to me (please do not let this shock you, I use excuses like this often in my dreams. It means nothing, I love my mum very much). Then something happened for an hour that I don't really remember too well.
Then, I was vacationing with dad and Mithila somewhere near some beach, and Mithila was like 9 again, and soooo cute (!) and she decided that she was going to go take a swim in the sea, so dad and I took her to the seashore (there was a fort next to the sea, and some steps leading down into the water where we let her off) and she was damn good at it! She went in a fair distance and was grinning in the water, so I sat by the shore and overlooked her safety while dad went fishing somewhere.
Next scene, and Mithila and I were walking down a parth in the forest somewhere just chatting, she was asking me all kinds of questions and I was talking to her etc etc.
Next scene, I'm at the seaside again, and dad and Mithila are sitting a bit far away along the vurve of the fort's sea-barrier watching the scenery and I decide that if Mithila can do it, so can I. So I dive into the sea and swim a niice, long way out, but I am paranoid that the sea will drag me in. The waters are a bit choppy already, and when I get a bit far out my paranoia changes the mood of the sea and makes it rough, with big, strong waves coming in and leaving, pulling me out. I swim with all my might, and I see dad and Mithila walking towards the steps near the fort, watching me every other wave to make sure that I'm safe. I swim hard, but am not making much progress and get a bit more scared, when I see a strong wave coming in and somehow it catches me in it, takes me a bt high in the air and deposits me close to the steps where I swim up and get to dryish safety next to dad and Mithila. Dad asks if I'm ok, and I tell him that I was a bit frightened as we both - nay, all 3 - observe the ever increasing roughness of the sea.
The sky goes from light blue to darker, approaching a storm grey-and-pink as the waves actually start rising fairly high and get choppier than ever before. Dad and I lock eyes, and just as this happens I see thunder storms literally streaking across the sky, above the treeline where dad and mithila were sitting earlier. I point and tell dad to look, and when i look at him he says "I know! I'm writing all this down" as he shows me a thick stack of papers in his hands. "It makes so much sense cause he was a journalist" I think to myself. Dad gets up and goes somewhere, and now the sky has gone deep grey-black, it's Thunderstorm Time. I take Mithila's hand as I see a pretty damn huge wave coming in from the sea and tell her that we have to get to the other side of the Fort's walls Now. We get up and start climbing the steps fast - Mithila's quite fit nad/or energetic, but then I pick her up (she's so light!) and carry her up to the top of the fort.
We reach the top and decide to turn around and look at the wave, which is a lot closer now and so I decide that we have to get to the bottom on the other side of the wall that we are on top of. I see a beautiful Susanne Roshan to my right, about to talk to her child (she has appeared in my dream, most probably, because before I slept I saw a very pretty picture of her in a magazine). I want to know what she tells her young one so I wait a moment, but then I hear garbled words coming out of her mouth and think to myself, how can anyone marry someone with no ability to communicate, even if they are extremely pretty (this thought is vaguely reproduced here, I cant put the feeling in the most accurate words for some reason). Anyway, we take the steps down towards the inner side of the fort, but then I see the shadow of the Giant wave upon the opposite wall, and just shield Mithila from anything that might happen as we press ourselves against our wall.
The wave comes, splashes all over the place, but we are safe and dry, and thanks to our careful positioning we have avoided any personal tragedy to ourselves. The weather is getting no better as I hear more thunderclouds and flashes of lightening - no time to wonder where Dad is right now, I'm sure he's safe, I have to take Mithila to safety. We quickly walk down to the bottom of the wall, and find a set of old rail tracks. I realize that we are at Churchgate (but it doesn't look like Churchgate, it looks like a railroad track emerging from a tunnel inside the fort, but I knew that it was the old part of Churchgate). I know that it's a really dangerous thing to do to walk into the tunnel and risk getting hit by the train, but then I think that no train will be using these old tracks. So I take Mithila's hand and we fearlessly walk deep into the tunnel. Pitch black. Then I see a light inside the tunnel, and I know this is a train. Nothing that we can do, so I tell Mithila to press herself as hard as she can against the wall we've been walking along, and I do the same. Whoooosh! and the train goes past us. When I open my eyes, Mithila's hand is in mine, and we are both very safe indeed. I see two windows on the opposite wall, and it's as if we are looking into the corridor that leads to 5, Heliopolis from outside the first floor windows. I quickly open them, and place Mithila in the safety of the tunnel first, then climb in myself. It is a sort of parallel tunnel, mainly grey marble and not-too-bright white-light. We walk for a bit, and we reach a door with a security guard. Whaaa..? He asks us just what it is we are doing, and I tell him I have no time for this, does he not see the danger that we are all in? I can feel the dream reaching some sort of epiphany, but I'm flummoxed by the guards next movement. He walks towards a door that I didn't notice earlier, with a digital label on it saying "CardRoom". Why would he go to a card room - why would there be a card-room Here? and why would anyone be playing cards right now?! But I know something is wrong with the definition I have in my head - the mystery is cleared soon enough. The door unlocks, and I see the label has the names of the occupants underneath - "Arun Katiyar, Raven". The door opens and it is confirmed! There sit dad and my friend Devika (Raven), discussing exactly how to stop this stuff - dad looks at me as he sees that I've taken care of Mithila, we all smile smiles of recognition.
The scene closes up into a small white dot, and the dream is over.

ASIDE; 20 minutes later, dreaming blackness and nothingness and the white dot suddenly expands again, and I am back in front of the teacher that took my attendance. While I'm wondering if all that really happened, she looks at me and says "I know your mum's not dead - your not getting attendance!" And I wake up.

A Trip Into Space

2008-10-01T04:11:00.006+05:30

Meg, this one's for you.
.
.
.
Can you imagine being able send a catalog of photos and logotypes straight into space. How cool is that?

Welcome to Project intospace.org; these guys (this guy? - Arthur Stubbs) plan to send 300 'rockets'into space, and each rocket will be able to hold upto 1000 'astronauts'. Each astronaut will occupy a space of 1 square centimeter upon a sheet 25cmx40cm. According to the website, the scheduled year of launch is sometime in 2010, barring the occurrence of 'Acts of God'.
'Acts of God' are defined as war, epidemic, natural disasters, armed rising, and acts of authority.

How Chuckie.. :-)

Well yeah, so the story goes that I was talking to a friend earlier on today and was being egged on to write something new on what seems to have become a highly inactive blog these days. I told her that I'd think of something, but I just went to sleep instead. Lo and behold! when I woke up from a light snooze, I found a very interesting mail in my inbox - there it was, an invitation to be a part of this little adventure. I think its really cool to be able to send something - anything thats not garbage (i.e. trash/rubbish/human waste/stuff that goes into an incinerator/garbage dump - into the deep void that is the nothingness of space. I always liked travel, and now I can at least send something to a place that I've always wanted to visit.
The hard part here is thinking of what image it should be. It could be one of me, it could be an image of my family, of friends, or a car, or lipstick, or a wire-hand, maybe a bucket, possibly a picture of Shiva, anything. I gotta think hard about this one, but not too hard otherwise I'll never be happy with my decision.
I personally don't know who the target audience is just yet, but I hope to find out pretty soon. I don't know if that'll affect my choice of image, but even now I'm wondering what I could send that would change something, no matter how small and/or insignificant it might be. Suddenly this is turning into a long-term experiment - Mmm. Yummy.

Given the chance (and you can have that chance as well, provided you have some basic qualifications - read on), what kind of image would you send into space? What is it that you would want others in a different time or place to see? Would it matter to you, or would it be something that you wouldn't think about? Whatever it is, now I can't wait for it to happen. There are two ways that you can join this adventure;
you could a) Buy yourself a ticket ($2), or a group of tickets ($30) or a logotype ($25) or b) you could write about this project on your blog, and send the link and your image to takeme@intospace.org

If your interested, do check the site out - http://intospace.org/ (or click on the title of the post), and if you decide to be a part of it and read about it from this blog, please let him know that you heard the idea from here. My picture grows in size with referrals.

Peace, Shanti, Ssspaceness.

Singapore

2008-07-27T18:42:00.002+05:30

Well, it has been long indeed. Back to square one, almost. But with a new city, a new country, and a new (well, almost) language, there's always some more to say.

I arrived here Saturday morning, on arguably the worst flight I've ever had. Stuck in a seat that wouldn't recline (it was 30E, the last row - directly in front of the lavatory), and that offered the aroma's of people's choice dumps in the loo. I asked for a bargain ticket and I think I got it.
Meera aunty came to pick me up (at 6:30am, local time), and took me around to Pearl's Hill. This is where it all started to go slightly off-course. We got there, and the woman at the admin office could not find my payment form. Utter chaos, carefully and expertly handled by Meera aunty, ensued. While I could barely understand a word the lady was saying, Meera aunty graciously man-handled her into finding my papers, and a promise to find out, in detail, what happened to my reservation. We were told to come back at 1 o' clock, when another lady would be here that we could talk to.
So we wandered off to the other side of the road, looking for a place to have coffee and something to eat. We walked over some bridges, with Meera aunty giving me tip after tip after tip, until I was fairly confident that I'd been in Singapore for at least a month. We hit up a 7-eleven, bought a SIM card and a NETS CashCard (this whole place is freakin' full of electronic convenience - more on that later), and decided to call it quits.
We went to her place, where I finally met Vivan and Vikram uncle, and I chilled there for a while. Vivan showed me around Dover Rise (the locality they stay in), and we had lunch - very yummy paneer (margarine) masala, rice and dal, and aloo-gobi. While there, I also mailed my friend Nishant (he worked at Microland), and told him what was going on. He agreed to try and find me accommodation until my term with Pearl Hill (Hostel) began. Next, we left again for the Hostel, where a woman called Rain (I think that I'm quite liking these names.. they have a very nice ring to them!) handled my situation. She knew exactly what had happened, and within 10 minutes,my problem had been solved. With a big thank-you to Meera aunty, a new key (and a/c!)to my room, and 2 Chinese-Korean room-mates, I felt relieved, and then hungry (for food and action). We said goodbye to each other, and I went to find Nishant.
Now, though we'd talked about Singapore and it's offerings while at Microland, Nishant really got deep, DEEP into Singapore's skin and found for us "Bird's Nest Drink" at Chinatown's MRT. This drink is made from the nest of a swallow (now I know why they're called that). The thing about this particular nest is that it is made from the saliva of the bird, which sticks it to a wall or anything else that its nest can be stuck to. The first sip was bearable, the after-taste was not. But we did it, and we have a picture to prove it, too. Ugh.
The next day was a lot less eventful, especially because I spent about 1/2 of it asleep. I like my room-mates. They're gamers, and know where to eat. Perfect!
Yesterday, I went to LaSalle (the reason I'm here, did I mention that?) and got myself registered as a student, got photo's taken, and blah, blah, blah. I met 3 new students, Hanne Eriksen (Norway) and Vy (Norway/Vietnam), and Tanay Vohra. After a quick bite of octopus (I could go on and on and on about the food here, my god!), we went our separate ways, me to my bed, Tanay to his place, and the 2 girls to a hospital for check-ups and the like.

Update: 4 Days Later..
Today was the first actual day of college. It was okay, strictly speaking. I'm gonna have to work pretty damn hard if I'm to jump the foundation year and go straight to Level 1, which is the basic plan. The more complicated plan is finding financiers for the rest of my education here. Luckily for me, I don't have classes on Fridays, so I ought to put those 24 (fine, 10) hours to good use... Today, it was boiling hot again, but then at 11:19am, the sky suddenly cooled down for a moment, and then the heavens really let rip. I thought the downpour in Bangalore was tremendous but this, this is truly a spectacle to behold. For 10 minutes it poured tsunami-style all around the building, and I could see sunlight 3 blocks away! What a sight (!). The lady that runs the place I stay in is a real bitch in disguise though. She was very nice to me the first day (ref; para 1), but this evening, after a tiring walk that lasted an hour and a half, she was hounding me for some nonsensical reason. Her name is Rain, and I think it fits her quite well too. Just as quickly as she began to bother me, after seven minutes she abruptly stopped, said 'okay', turned on her heels and scrammed.
I also went quite broke today, and things are looking like they shall remain this way for the next 2 days, until my account opens up and the moneh flows back in. Man, I feel terrible spending dad's cash, especially when i convert it back to rupees at the end of each day. But enough of the rambling - I've walked like 10km today, and it's about time that I went to bed. Gnight!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRGHHHHH!!!

2007-04-16T22:37:00.000+05:30

sothisistogetallthatenergyouttamybodyandmindthatrefusestoletmestudyordoanythingelseandisgivingmesomeserioustensionandanxietyandgodknowswhatelseandireallycanttakeitanymoreandiwannakillsomethingorsomeoneandtheniwannagotogoaanddanceallweekandgetridoftheIBandofeverythingelsethatsoppressnigmeandifeitherarjunravinarayanorsnehanarayansayanythinglhereandarepussiesanddontstictheirnamesontheirpostsagainthenimgonnakillthemandhuntthemdownagainandbeattheshitouttathatassholemotherfuckersonofacunt.

Thank You.

An Account of Friday the 15th and Saturday the 16th of December, 2006

2006-12-20T00:00:00.000+05:30

This is an account of what happened from Friday afternoon right up until Saturday evening when I finally touched down at the Bangalore International Airport... hope this amuses you guys. It ought to make a rather interesting story...

So, we (Hannah and I) left MUWCI on Friday, after a delay of about an hour, with Tom, Annabelle, Francis and Jerome for Pune. We were supposed to go with Zaen, but we were fortunate that we didn't as his jeep just didn't turn up, and then we'd have been completely screwed. By the time we got to Pune, it was about 5, and so we went and shopped Clover centre for Hannah's Golden Virginia (if you dont know what it is, it doesn't matter. Just know that we went to shop for it) and filters. Then, we decided that the time was right to catch a bus to Bombay. So we scuried off to the train station, where we found a busthat was supposed to leave in 5 minutes (it was 5:40 when we got there), and we promptly got onto it. The journey was scheduled to take 3 hours we were told, but after sleeping on the bus for an hour and waking up to an A/C dripping on me and blowing in my face, I was startled to realise that we were still in Pune city. By the time we got onto the highway, it was already 6:45, and so we decided to pull out my laptop and watch Madagascar on it. Soon, we paused at a local rest-stop along the expressway, and hurriedly had a cigarette and pav-bhaji, and we even managed to find a power-point to charge my laptop. Just as we finished eating, our bus decided that it wanted to leave, so we ran back to the bus. As we were heading to it, we found a Mia and a someone-else in a jeep, also presumably heading to Mumbai International Airport. We waved em off, and got back onto the bus, and continued watching the movie. As we were about 2/3rds through the movie, my laptop died a gruesome and unflattering death, and so we fell asleep (I did, at any rate...), and was awoken from my sleep just as it was getting good to the Dadar bus stop scenery. Looking at my watch, I found that it was already 11:15!
We took a cab straight from there to Colaba, as it would be pointless trying to catch a train at that hour, not to mention moderately dangerous knowing the Mumbai janta (Slang for people). We reached my place by about 11:30, greeted by Hannah's inhibitions about my cousins and relatives not liking her, as well as my cousin's dog's noisy uproar. When we arrived, only my mami (aunt)was there, and so we chilled out a bit, and washed and cleaned up. We sat around for a bit, and soon enough, my cousn Hrishikesh turned up. We sat and I talked to him for a bit, after which he decided he was going to retire for the night, and Hannah was going to smoke downstairs. So we went down for a stroll, she smoked one and we came back up, properly de-smelled. We decided that we wanted to finish watching Madagascar and so we did, after which we proceeded to watch as much South Park as our brains could possibly handle. Soon Yashodeep, my other cousin, turned up from his work, and sat down to talk with us. That got over in a bit, and we all decided to get some deserved rest.
The next morning, we got up at about 7:30 (fine, Hannah got up, and proceeded to nag me till I did too), and had a quick breakfast and proceeded to leave for the airport. We got onto a train by 8:40, and were destined to ehaed to Malad Station, in Andheri. However, by the time we got there, it was already 9:35, which meant that I could either take my baby to the airport and risk taking my flight home, or pack her into a rickshaw and head back myself. I chose the latter, much against my will, and packed her off.
Hannah: Babe, I hope that your rickshaw ride wasn't too eventful, and that things went smoothly. Hope that your not too pissed with me, and that you got home safely.
Then, I went bak to Dadar Station, and managed by some lucky chance to get a bus that left, again 5 minutes after I got there. So, I got onto this bus, and sat there. Now, the guysaid that the bus would leave at 10:05, and I got there at 10:00, so I was shitting bricks as I tried to find it amongst the vast set of Volvo's parked in the damned area. Anyways, I got there, and sat down, only to find that the whole thing was completely empty. By the time we left, I'd been grumbling about the bastards not sticking to time for over an hour. I did, however, ahve a jovial teacher that I really liked sitting next to me, so that kept me entertained throughout the journey. Looking at the time when I got into Pune, it was just 2:50. I figured that I ought to find Zaen and Co. at Mocha (DUH!!) so I headed there. I ended up there at about 3:05, and found to my horror that Zaen, Rico and Naina weren't there. However, it was all smooth sailing now - or so I thought. The stupid stoned genie (terminology couresy Zaen Alkazi 1989- ) couldn't help me out for shit, so I took a salt shaker from there as revenge. The salt shaker broke within two minutes on my left foot - a sure sign of bad luck. By the time I managed to actually get Naina to pick up - I was trying her number for 15 minutes - they were all already at MG Road, getting Nain's ear (or whatever else that it was) pierced. I also found out that my mega suitcase had been transferred to Misha, as she was on the same flight back home.So I got into a rickshaw and made my way to Mars-0-rin,where I found a content Zaen and Rico talknig about american stereotypes, and how they are actually everywhere. The time was 3:35 - a long way to cathing my 5:30 flight home. I was quite content with myself, albiet a little dissapointed knowing now that I might have had the time to take Hannah to the airport after all. We decided that a departure time of about 4:00 was good for us all, as Zaen needed to pick up some film from a place 20 minutes in the opposite direction.
At 4:35, we were still on the road, however, being driven by a sleeping (literally, Zaen and Rico can suport this statement) driver. We decided that if I didn't change direction and destination of travel that instant, I would definitely not make it home that day. So I got out, stumbled across the middle of the road, almost got runover by a bus that decided to swerve dangerously close to the sidewalk, and got into a rickshaw driver on speed. I mean it - this guy had pupils the size of the bloody moon man!! And he talked in fast-forward, in a dialect that only the french could understand. Anyways, by the time we figured out that I neede to get to the airport, it was 4:40, and things were looking very foreboding indeed. The guy finally reasied that I needed to catch a 5:30 flight (who needs to give him 10 extra minutes to relax, eh?) and he started to zip through the streets, taking smart ways around signals, buffalows, pedestrians and the like. At 5:00 we were still well within city limits, after having asked the guy how long left and how far away it was for the umpteenth time, I finally gave up all hope of getting there. I consoled myself thinking that it would be a character-biulding experience missing a flight and figuring out what to do next.
I did, magically, however, reach the airpost at 5:15, and ran in to find a very sour Misha teling me to check my bag in and get a boarding ticket for the flight. So, in a rush, I got my bag checked in, and then the lady at the counter informs me that the flight was delayed by 30 minutes. OK, so it was all smooth sailing again. Good news. So I stand in line with my oversize bag and hoody, waiting to hit security check. When I finally got there, all my stuff went through security check, but for some reason, my jacket kept beeping insanely. So did my shirt. So did my pants. So did my shoes. So did my friggin' navel. So, they strip-searched me. I was in the middle oif security getting myself stripped to my boxers, with the damned metal-detector still beeping like nobody's business. They also found a lighter and my swiss knife in my hoody - they were now convinced that I was there to blow the plane outta the skies. Anyways, after quarantining my knife and lighter, they finally let me go. Went to collect my bag and wallet and stuff, and found that my bag was in the middle of 6 security-surds. Was definitely in trouble. One of them came by and asked me if the bag was mine. When I told them it was and that my flight was in 20 minutes, they told me that they needed to scan it again. So there was another hold up. Upon scanning it, I was told that I had another lighter, another knife, 2 forks, a camera, and a bottle of water in it. So i decided that I didnt need any of them, and I started to unpack. That was when I unpacked a bottle of Vodka that I had completely forgotten about. I asked them what to do now. So they cancelled my boarding ticket, and asked me to get another one issued after checking my bag in to check-in baggage. OK. So, I go out, and the helpful geeky guy asks me what I need, so I tell him. It is now 5:45, and I am starting to get edgy again. The guy unnecessarily puts it through the big X-ray machine again, and checks it in for me, and issues me a boarding ticket. That is when another guy runs from the X-ray machine, and demands my bag. They run it in again, and then they ask my to remove the entire contents of my bag. So, here I am, with 15 minutes to go, unpacking a bag filled with all the sins of MUWCI, wondering whether today is the day that I will get busted or not, and whether I will catch that damned flight or not. Finally, the guy searches my bag, and takes a few assorted things out and hands them to me, like my laptop. Rather confused, and not sure whether to be relieved or not, I grab the laptop, and head for security check again. It is now 5:50, and my flight has started to board, says the nasal woman over the intercom. As I go through security again, I am faced with another checker guy who doesn't believe that I got checked before. So, I go though the strip search again, while the guards are going " Zabardast, puttar!!!" . Bastards. By the time I get out, I am informed that my flight has a minute left to go, and so some random dude comes and offers toescort me to my flight. He takes me running on the tarmac to a Boeng 747-600 and before I know it, I'm getting onto the aircraft home - or so I think. As I climb into the aircraft, I notice that the entire thing is empty, and looking at the card in the side-seat, it shows a flight serial different from mine. Going through this whole proscess in real time took about 10 minutes, and as I looked back despairingly at the guy I told him what had happened. Fortunately, he did have a walkie-talkie, and so before the aircraft had a chance to move - it had been sealed and ready to leave, but yeah - he radioed in and told them to wait up.
All said and done, I did finally manage to make my flight, though it was an absolutly on-the-edge weekend - one that I would not like to experience again anytime soon, but one that I am not likely to forget. Thank you two for being a part of it all. Cheers!!

(Oh, yeah, in case you want to know what happened when I came to Bangalore, I fell asleep in the car, and now it's Monday evening, and I just woke up. It's been a very tiring weekend, after-all....)

Guess this kinda stuff isn't just made for the movies, eh?

The jeans Small Pocket

2006-07-10T03:51:00.000+05:30

The jeans Small Pocket
Originally uploaded by aveek.

The Jeans Pocket. Marvellous contraption, but no one really relises it.

I was watching the World Cup Finals (Viva Azuri!! Zidane is a B*st^rd) when a friend of mine asked me to hold on to his matches, saying he'd need 'em in another minute. So I put them into my pocket, and started to walk along. I started wondering how much pain it was going to be to reach into the depths of my pocket for that tiny matchbox, when alluva sudden it hit me - THAT'S what the the tiny pocket you find in almost any set of jeans' right hand pocket is about!! It's there for nothing except a matchbox.
Think aobut it, thats the only real use that it would have - sureit's been adapted to fit other things. But we all know that it was most certainly not designed to hold most cell-phones, as Motorola might ahve you believe. After all, these things have been around on Jeans when people were holding those monstrocities of cell-phones, that came with a carry-case of their own. They were designed for the working, smoking American miner/worker, weren'tthey?
Jeans were first worn by workers, and the whole drive would be towards practicality, not fashion. The workers needed a place to store a tiny match box that they used tolight things - from ciggarettes to gun-powder, and it was a hassle diving into one's pockets at the most inconvenient of times, so some bright mind must have sown a small pocket into his jeans. Being right handed, thats where it went. The trend obviously caught on, untill at a point, the manufacturers decided that it would be wise to put those little pockets on as standard.

Amazing thing, this little piece of design. Never noticed, but providing a subconscious relief. Ma, the things designers must think of when gonig through the developmental proscess!!

Just thought it ought to be pointed out that one ought not to ignore the tiny things in life that DO make a difference.

Peace.
Aveek

It's Been A While

2006-07-08T13:18:00.000+05:30

It's been a while
Since I could hold my head up high.
It's been a while
Since...

OK, I'm not into the poetry-to-express-yourself on the blog anymore. Enough of that stuff.This is in regard to the appaling fact that I haven't posted in almost 5 months, or some other absurd sounding figure like that.

It's been a month since I got back from campus, assured that I am, in fact, comingback for next year. I am sicerely hoping to rid myself the connection of my2nd years,who are pretty much just plain old coward bastards from the Graduating Class of 2006 - ring a bell, anyone?
Anyways, thats that. The thing is that, I do miss a few people from there, but I just on't think that I was really on the same thinking field as anyone else there. Either that, or it just hasn't hit me yet, which is strange, cause I don't think that it'll ever hit me. I don't even miss the people that I was really close to... not one strand of remorse, guilt(which is not a first), sadness, lust, desire, boredom, nothing. Man, I can barealy even remember what people look like. Sometimes, I acknowledge the fact that there must be something wrong with me. This is not supposed to happen!! I want to ahve funky memories, I want to be able to smile. I guess that its a good thing once in a while to be emotionally detachd from events around you, but man, that has a sucky downside!! I feel like shit!! AARGH!!!

Anyways, enough about that. I finally got to drive, so now I can smirk at my dad as I sit - legally!! - in the driver's side of the car, and fix this shameless grin on my face as I pass him going the other way!! MUHUHOHAHAHAHAHAH!! I've beenwaiting for this since I was 10, and these 8 looookng years are finally paying off. I am going to have sooooo much fun drig=ving around with my frineds for 10 days beofer I'm back off to college. But thats alright with me. Just the knwoledge that I can drive is almost enough to keep me happy.

This is a pretty happy post... and this is where it stops.

Ciao, amigos!!

Backpacking Across the Universe

2006-03-02T13:50:00.000+05:30

So, I've been here for over 4 months now, and things have finally become boring. People have gotten used to their mundane routines, and no one wants to step out. Everyone has become the spokes of a wheel, ever in motion, always coming back to the same spot over and over again. Life is stupid. Life is restricting. I don't want to be part of it. I want to live free. I want to act free. I want to think free. I want to be free. And I want others to be free as well.
Last night I asked myself, what am I doing here? Why am I here? What am I getting out of being here? What is it that I really want? What is my purpose in life? Do I have a purpose in life, or is my existence pointless, just a gap to be filled in because we're all just extra's in this huge dramatization of life? I realized that I am doing absolutely nothing here. I sit on my arse and read books, play sports, and help de-weed fields. WOW. Isn't that going to make a difference to everyone and anyone? I realized that I don't want all this information. I want knowledge. It's true. But I don't want the garbage that they teach us in school, college, university, jobs. I want real knowledge. I want to know everything there isn't to know. I want to see everything we think we never will. I want to explore the depths of thought, space, sound, and sense. That is what I want to know. I have no desire to fill my head with 'knowledge' that so many people already know and have already classified. It's a waste of space, when we have everything that we will ever need in the palm of our hands in the form of microcomputers. I would rather that instead of moving through the blackness of the Unknown Thought, holding on far too much to our safety ropes, one of us just let go and took a bold stride into the darkness of beyond and spread the light. At the rate we're going, all we're doing is shooting a tiny beam of light into the vastness, and all that we recover is the infinitely miniscule part of it that blocks the beam. The part directly in front of it - nothing up, down, side to side, after and before it. We know too little, and at the rate that we're going, we'll never pierce this store room of everything that we will ever encounter. I just want to be a light beam and travel to the ends of the universe, and see everything I never will.
Another thing that has really pissed me off is this construct of life. We all live by a set of rules and regulations. Let’s call them restrictions, because that’s what they really are, after all. Society has taught us to think in a specific way, to talk in a specific way, to act in a specific way. Everyone I know just wants to get a good degree, get a good job and own a nice car, a big house and have a happy family. That is their idea of a happy existence. How mundane. Everyone wants to live in a cycle of safety. No one I know is willing to put a stick into the spoke and observe the motion then. No one I know wants to climb trees in the middle of the night with me for fun. No one I know wants to Dive into the pool when its freezing cold, just to see what its like. No one wants to surf the tsunami with me, just for the high. No one wants to stand up and think for themselves. Society has restricted itself from blossoming. We have stuffed ourselves into a box, and cramped our minds into cubes of restricted motion. The worst part of it all is the fact that people create pseudo-happiness when all they have to do is reject the rules. All we have to do is take ourselves out of the box that has been forced upon us for a minute, and we'll see how close-minded we have become. We live in a tiny system. Do you know why Microsoft keeps upgrading? ‘Cause there are flaws in the system. Every system has flaws, and that’s why we move onto a better system, with flaws of its own. With more complex, convoluted flaws, even less evident than the last, but present none-the-less. We need to destroy the system. We need to stop restricting ourselves with these metal constructs, that shouldn't even exist. Every time I meet people, there's always a few who laugh at me, think I'm weird. What they don't see is the fact that I'm outside their world. I am, quite literally, on my own plane. And that is how everyone should be. If we don't like it, then we can revert back, but otherwise what's the point of calling yourself open minded? One of my friends told me that this sounded like it was straight out of some play. What he doesn't know is the fact that we're all part of a huge performance. We are all just actors on a grand scale. Now if only you could walk off stage and into the audience, and watch it with me, you'd see. You'd see the truth. You'd see a more complete picture. What I want to know lies outside, but at this point of time, I can't make it there on my own. I need help. I need someone to come with me. I want someone to come with me. Someone who I can share my freedom with, someone who'll appreciate liberation from liberation as we see it. Someone who'll help me convince more people to take a bite out of this apple. I want someone to get up and walk out of the theatre with me. I wish to know what lies outside this theatre.
I wish to know the truth. I wish to dive, head-first, into the vastness of space, time, and the dimensions. Einstein once said that time was the 4th dimension. I wonder if that’s true. We have become masters of the 3 dimensions. Length, breadth, and height. We have frozen them, and move around in them freely. They are constant, and we move through them, forward and backward, up and down, from side to side. But what about time? Have we managed to control time? We have managed to understand it. Or have we? Is using time to co-ordinate our lives a proper understanding of time? Is it understanding at all? Or is it just usage without comprehension? The sun comes up and goes down every 100,000 times I breathe, so let’s call it something. The 25,00th time I breathe, I should eat a meal. Let’s call it lunch. Is that our 'understanding' of time? I think not. I believe that this is a dimension that we are yet to comprehend. There is more to time than we think. We do not control Time, Time controls us. It pushes us ever forward, despite our attempts to stay still. In order to believe we control it, we have sayings like, "I watched Time pass me by", as if we're a separate entity all-together. But that isn't true. We are all moved forward by this dimension, regardless of our orientation. We do not control this dimension - it controls Us. How does it control us? Is it, after all this, just a mental construct? Is it really a dimension? Have we created it from our imagination, and has it overrun us, like a wild child, and taken hold of the leashes we never knew were around our necks? Can thought create dimension? Can an electrical impulse being interpreted in a different way each time be a machine that churns out a new layer of reality? Or is it a pseudo-reality that we create around us, but that doesn't actually exist?

I want to know the truth. I want to know everything there isn't to know. I want to travel the universe and see everything I know I never will. I want to catch the twinkling of an eye, and put it in a box, and open it every time I want. I want to grab every star from the sky, make a necklace out of it, and give it to the one I love. I want o shoot up and down over to the other side of the rainbow. I want to view the cycle of a star, and drink the milky-way. I want to open Pandora's-box, and know everything. I want to unleash reality upon myself. I want to meet aliens, and communicate with them. I want to gain another's perspective without having an opinion on it. I want to turn the earth inside out, and have a steam bath in the molten crust. In want to bend time, and travel till I see every major event first hand, and create my own understanding of history. I want to go as far as all the money in my pocket will take me, and walk from there. I want to go backpacking across the depths of space, time, and mathematics. I want to find myself in a champagne supernova in the sky. Catch me if you can, I'll meet you at Me.

Breakfast In Bed

2006-02-23T16:15:00.000+05:30

Its college time again, and life is proceeding at a really quick pace, what with assignments to submit, plays to rehearse, people to talk to, and music to play. Not that I have managed too many of the afore-mentioned activities, but yeah, life is still hectic. Now if you (or I) think that this life is a bit hectic, you have got to see the stress that my second years have to take on an everyday basis. They still have university applications going on, and are getting replies from univs this month and the next. On top of that, they have to submit mid-term essays, world-lit papers, extended essays, and innumerable assignments. Then, as Theatre Week approaches with ever-increasing speed, they have to direct and/or act in their plays, and ensure that they run smoothly. All in all, it is a maddening cycle that they go through each weekday and weekend.
Some of you might know Savina, a really good friend of mine, ever since we were 4 or so. She's here as well, in her second year, and hasn't been spared of this ordeal. You could see, after the first two weeks, that she was taking way too much stress. She looked tired and de-motivated, and thoroughly stressed out. You could see that she wasn't exactly happy anymore, so Deeksha and I decided that we'd do something to make her Sunday a little special. We decided that we'd cook her breakfast in bed. So, the whole week we went about figuring out just what she'd enjoy for breakfast, and made a list. Then, on Saturday, I went to Pune, and we bought everything for the meal. I got sausages, cooking chocolate, Ceres fruit juice, eggs, butter, cheese, and strawberries and cream. When I got back, we decided the menu. It was going to be Sausages and a double sunny-side-up masala egg, along with sliced tomatoes and grapes. There was going to be strawberries, and a huge goblet of Red Grape Juice. And, to top it off, mum gave me the idea of making her Chocolate Truffle!!
So, Saturday night I stayed up till 12:30 and made the chocolate Truffle liquid, poured it in a nice yellow bowl, and set it in the freezer to cool. I then covered it with chocolate shavings and two strawberries to give it that finishing touch. It looked really neat, all swirled with the light and dark chocolate mixes in it. Then, I got up Sunday morning at 7:30, and woke Deeksha up. Together we washed all the other items, and proceeded to make the masala egg, and the sausages. We borrowed a plate, a tray, and cutlery from the cafeteria, and we borrowed this HUGE blue goblet from Tom (god-alone knows why he has it) and proceeded to cook everything. After about an hour and a half of going back and forth procuring a non-stick pan, olive oil, and various other minute details that completed the picture, we had Savina's meal ready. Just as we were setting it all up on the tray, though, she ended up walking towards the common room. So Deeksha went and distracted her in her room, as I proceeded to pour out the crimson grape juice into the goblet. All was ready, and I took the tray to Savina
's house, and we then presented her with her "Breakfast-In-Bed" (fanfare et al).
She was really thrilled. After 10 days we finally saw her face light up, and you could sense the happiness surging through her again. She proceeded to demolish the food without furthur ado, and drank the grape juice like it was wine.... hehe... I found that so silly, but so cute none-the-less!! She is an angel. By the end of it, she seemed almost entirely rejuvinated, stuffed till her eyeballs were popping out, and with a huge grin on her face.

It was a brilliant experience for me as well. I don't know why, but seeing her so happy just seemed to make my day as well. I guess sometimes when you see someone you really care about feeling such happiness, it infects you too, and it keeps you going for the rest of the day. I seem to have noticed this a little, here and there - there are moments where Savina's joy just drifts into me, and I can't help but smile for the rest of the day. I think its people like her that really make life worth living. I just hope that I have people like that in my life forever!!

(Gracias, Savinita!!)

Fire!!

2006-01-27T13:17:00.000+05:30

We had a fire yesterday, and it scorched internet hill, where our internet facilities are. However, we got our beaters and our denims and shirts and fought the fire from 11 to 2 in the afternoon. The fire spread for over 5 square kilometers, and it was on lots of flatland, mountainous terrain, as well as slush fields, making it really hard to control. We managed to put most of it out on the flatlands and slush-fields, but the mountainous terrain was really hard. We had to climb about 500 meters on a slippery, 30 degree incline, with the harsh sun beating down on us, and the fire popping up in the most inaccessible of places. As we reached the top, our beaters started to break, leaving us with many fighters, but not much equipment. As Havi(er) and I took our turns with the beaters to put out a small fire near his feet, the wind suddenly picked up, and the flames shot up to over 2 meters. Havi was close e to the fire, so he jumped to the other side. I, however, was a bit further into the ire, and had nowhere to go. So I turned and began to back out. Just then, the wind picked up even more, and I was caught in the middle of the flames. I threw my beater and ran for my life, with my hand on fire. I had, by now, breathed in an impressive amount of soot, and was barely able to breathe. As soon as I was out of the fire, Amiya came to help me recover, poured water over my hand and face, and generally looked over me to make sure I wasn’t in any major harm. She is so sweet...!! I walked down to the med, where I showered, and then the doctor treated my urns with ointment. As a result, I have a smooth right arm, and I have a little place on my head where my eyebrow and hair burnt themselves of. It looks really funny if you notice it... hehe... aside from that, things are ok, we saved internet hill, and now we have a 5 kilometer fire-wall 'protecting' us from future fires. This just means that we have no greenery to look at from campus outside... hehe... but that’s ok. Our internet is still up, no one is in any mortal peril, etc. etc. etc. things are good!!!

I love the fire service!!!

Life. In General.

2006-01-19T16:20:00.000+05:30

OK. This is either gonna be one helluva long post, or nothing at all, or I might give up midway. But here goes!!

OK, since I got back on campus, things ahve been all opver the place. It's been less than 2 weeks, and a cycle just got over, than I have had huge highs, and a lot of horse-latitude days, as well as these dark spots indicating my lows. The Latter, posted by out pricipal to most of us - some believe at random - to our parents had caused some serious upheaval at home. Man, the last day or two there was so much tension in the iar, to use a cliche, that you could cut it with a knife. I was pretty sure that the longer I stayed at home, the higher my chances of getting into some serious horse poo-poo. Luckily, I was leaving the day after The Letter. Which is a very, very good thing, in my mindm and in the minds of the other relatively non-extremist eople involved.
Then, when I got back on campus, things were really good. I met my friends, we went to Paud, and we were generally in high spirits (no pun intended). Then, over the course of a couple of days, things were fairly in the doldrums, and then, alluva sudden, our high flying hearts (and at times, bodies) momentum came to an abrupt standstill. And then I crashed. There were 2 days of utter agony, emotional upheaval, chaos, paranoia, and the fear that comes with a sense of being totally lost in a place very familiar to you. I still do not know how I passed time during those 2 days, except for a vague notion of twisting and turning around in my bed, fighting all the imaginary demons of my nightmares. All of a sudden, they froze, and suddenly melted into the soft yellow light falling through my window. I was non-pulsed. Then, a sudden wave of heart-warming joy filled my senses. I could see again. In an instant I had been transformed from a bedraggled slave to a sailor cruising the high seas.
Everyone suddenly appeared so cheerful and bright. Things were back to their usual euphoric high, and life was settling down. Then came the confrontation. I had had a quarrel with a friends of mine sometime back, and we had a bad breakup. However, she helped me sort it out, and we were back to being friends again over the course of Christmas. We left each other on a high note, and I called her for her birthday at home, and I couldn't wait to meet her when she got back. As the dayn arrived, I decorated her room with red and white balloons, and left her a present also in white, with a red card. Not that I know why I've written that detail. It seems most unnecessary. When she came back, however, things just seemed to ahve changed within a fraction of a millisecond. I met her, and she didn't look all that pleased to see me, acting quite stiff. This, unfortunately for me, was a sad state of occourance. I gave up on her after a minute, and she just walked away. Throughout the course of the week, however, I realiseed that it was only me going to make an effort to talk to her, be with her, do things for her, and it got to me. Physically as well as mentally, I got annoyed that I was the one putting in all my effort into what was turning out to be a seemingly pointless endeavour. So I decided to just not talk to her - after all, if she really wanted to be friends, she'd have to make some kind of effort as well. The miserable part about that, was the fact that I had no desire to NOT talk to her. After all, i9t was and (I hope) always will be a pleasure to talk to her. So I deflatedly gave up on that plan, and talked to her about it, getting a not so convincing answer. However, I also decided that I let my emotions take way too much control of me, and that I am not going to let them get in my way ever again.
After that, things got a lot better. Not just event wise,. but her and I have also been on good terms with each other, and its become almost entirely like the good times! Again, my social life is going all guns blazin', my academic life is commendable - not perfect, but commendable - and I seem to be taking care of my health, amongst all the other things that make up a happy lifestyle. I seem satisfied, with a huge parcel containing an impressive stash of munchies, pasta, chips, and other assorted foodstuffs, arriving a couple of days ago. I have given up bad habits that I had got into over here, and I am pleased with the pace of my life. Things are, good, and I thank my imaginary God for that. After all, what else is God for, other than to thank for every little thing that aids your survival?

We (NOTE: with no accurate references to anyone that can be identified) got some nice wine, and we're going to have a toast. "To ourselves. For the good life!!"

Things That I write on the Back of Letters To My Friend Ragini

2005-11-15T19:56:00.000+05:30

After our brief meeting I guess you know
I grew quite fond of you
And somehow I get the feeling that
You grew fond of me too.

Our time was short - nay, it was nil
Yet we till kept in touch
You brought me quite some joy
So thank you very much!

But fate, it seemed, had other plans
for both you and me
And tore apart our little bond
Into Infinity.

But I, for one, do not believe
In fate or destiny
Or maybe I guess I just
Enjoyed your company!

So here I am in the mountains now
Writing you this ode
And I guess I'll just deliver it
To your comfy abode.

I do hope that you read
This little rhyme I wrote
Cause otherwise my effort could always go
Into feeding a mountain goat.

I also hope that just like me
You really feel the same
Or even if you'd not forget
Me or my name.

Speaking of which, I have to ask
In Delhi, what to do?
Cause later on I might come back
For maybe day or two.

I think its time to stop
Writing or I'll go on forever
Talking to you in inane were
That isn't very clever.

- Aveek Katiyar 25 Oct '05

It's finally here!!

2005-11-02T12:24:00.000+05:30

Hey everybody! This is the third time that I am writing this, because the first two times I was either too lazy to finish writing this, or the computer lost its power before I could complete this. This, however, is going to be my last and final attempt to write my blog. Not that this is going too well, cause I’m bloody high right now, so… hehe… just kidding, dad!
Anyways, thee thing with this place is that one has got to be able to balance his life and his academics rather precisely, so as to actually do well in these quizzes that Arno (my physics teacher from the Netherlands) gives us from time to time. Now, I have been slacking away all of my time, and nothing much seems to have happened to me. It’s a bit strange, actually. Not that I am complaining. The thing is, I now have so much free time and have absolutely no idea what to do with it. I haunt Wada 4, house 9 and 11. Which has led people to the conclusion that I have a teensy weensy crush on someone in the house. Not to say that it isn’t true, but that’s not the real reason that I’m in that house. I really like the people there, and I like to spend time with ALL of them, not just that One.
But now that that issue has been solved, lets move on.
I am sitting next to the hottest girl on campus and writing this particular paragraph. Which implies that I am on a laptop – "What laptop?" You ask? Well, it’s an iBook G4!!! That’s what it is!! Yeah!! Now there’s this insane problem that I have (yes, this is a blog entry mainly about problems and how I deal with them – or don’t.) – is that i know way too many people here, and it’s just that I don’t seem to have enough close friends here. Actually I do, but I don’t feel entirely secure about this stuff. Thing is, if Annabelle stops being so close to me anytime, I feel that I will be a bit hit. I have become rather attached to that girl. She is an absolutely wonderful person, is always there to talk to, and I always feel easy and calm around her. Also Chris, who I am planning to room with next year.
Another thing that I have to do is mail my parents and my sister, who have been missing me! For real!! This is soooooo cool! I never thought that was possible… hehe… however, I am way too lazy to haul my ass from my Wada to the AQ and to sit there and write a mail to the three of them, so… so guess that this blog will have to do.
Mum, dad, Mithila, if you guys come across this, consider this your letter:
Hey guys!! Wassup?? Things here are going great, as usual. I am actually managing to manage (haha!! Sorry, I just thought that was funny…) my time here. And hence, things are actually going more smoothly again. I have stopped bunking my classes, and have found that my time table is pretty cool after all, and have made peace with getting up at 7:00 four times a week and hauling my as to the 1st block I have. Of all the subjects, I think that Spanish is the coolest, followed by psych and then Physics (yeas, you heard that right, I LOVE PHYSICS!!!!!). The thing with the physics class is that I have got the coolest teacher that there is, and the class is pretty much a self-taught class. He goes too fast for anyone to figure out what the hell is going on, but he heaps us with homework, and if you do it (which I have never quite managed just yet) you will be able to solve all the problems that he gives you. However, I still get away with everything I do over there. It kinda reminds me of the class with Mrs. Benjamin, where I’d walk in and diss Arjun for the entire class. Here I walk in ten minutes late, sit down in the middle of an important explanation, and say, “Hi Arno!” loudly. And what does he respond with? He looks at me, puts the marker down, bursts into a little chuckle and says, “Hello, Aveek…” and then proceeds to explain the problem as if nothing happened. Then, I ask for my quiz, and it turns out that I beat Rohan (who is the class genius) again, and he was really bitter about it. So he rechecks my marks, and turns out that Arno has given me a mark too many. So just to piss Rohan off 9 (and to see what my luck is like) I told Arno that I had one mark less than he’d given me, and so, for being so honest, could I have one mark more? And HE GAVE IT TO ME!!!!!!! And that pissed Rohan off even more!! For the rest of the class he was cursing me under his breath. And hen I started drawing cars, and I did nothing for the rest off class, and had so much fun, and Arno had no problem with me what so ever!! Hah!! So awesome!!
Well, that’s it for the time being – I’m in my English class, and I have some work to do right now, so… I’ll catch you guys in a bit. And I promise to finish the rest of this the next time ‘round…
Peace.

Taken A Gamble

2005-08-09T20:15:00.000+05:30

I finally got p*ss*d off with work at the garage.

*SHOCK* *SURPRISE*

Well, the thing was that I just got absolutely no new ideas, no new procedures, no nothing from there, except taking the cars out every morning and parking them (a total movement behind the wheel of 10 meters each). The only thing tat kept me going there for a couple of weeks was the awesome sound of the twin exhausts of the Volkswagen Beetle, more commonly known as the Bug. That, and the cheery (and somewhat mad-cap) conversations I'd have with the mechanics there... It was an interesting experience the first time around, but this was O.D.ing on the stuff, so I gave up on it.

Just as I thought life will become interesting with all the free time on my hands (3 weeks) dad drops a bomb-shell on me... Damned again!! He told me that he was talking to Anu - a friend and colleague of his from his days at Indya.com, when we first shifted here - and she needed some help with some desk work at her newly set-up office. While all this was fine, he, uh, "quietly", dropped my name and general joblessness into the conversation, and so she said "Why don't you send him over to work for me? That way he can use his 3 weeks".
I really don't mind, but I wanna be with my friends, who are, of course, jobless till next weekend. I've taken a gamble, saying that in a week, everyone will be coming back at the same time as me, so I may as well go for work. Thing is, I realized yesterday (which was my first day at work, by the way) that while we can all meet up in the evenings, I have a HUGE friend network who I gotta say bye to in this city, and even though the job is 5 days a week, I wanna meet Diya during the weekends, so I have no time left to meet everyone else at all... Bummer.
So here's my battle plan - for 2 outta the 3 weeks I'm gonna work my butt off, show Anu that I'm a great worker and I will finish whatever work she assigns to me (the very nature of which, everyone knows, is utterly boring, but it cant be helped, I guess...) and hence (I hope) will make her say YES quite easily when I ask her if I can take the last week off to meet my friends an all. If necessary, I'll even take some work home and finish it. That's the price that I'm willing to pay to properly say bye to certain people. I'm crazy. Don't ever hire me...!!! OK, I'm kidding. Please do hire me when I need a job, money, a place to stay, a feeling of belonging, and all that jazz.

So there's my gamble. Just gotta see if it really works out. Feel free to guide/cajole/correct/destroy my thoughts and strategies.

Oh, and if you post, do leave your name so I can thank/curse you, depending on the final outcome of the situation.
Till then, I look forward to your views on my super-complex-yet-simple life...!!

A Collection of Random Thoughts, Limerick Style

2005-07-11T22:14:00.000+05:30

My creative juices won't flow
My originality valve says 'no-go'
But my hand still quivers
It shakes and shivers
To write creatively once more.

I'm looking all around me
For something to inspire or confound me
But all I see
Is mediocrity
And a picture of some old Swami.

I don' know what sense this'll make
But Jesus, gimme a break
Cause all I want
Is to quietly flaunt
My genius and hence earn some cake!

I see a Prancing Horse on the table
To stitch it, I know I am able
But the irony within
Is I support McLaren
So why stitch one from Ferrari's stable??

Dad got me mints a-plenty
I counted - I got more than twenty
So I had my fill
And gobble 'em up till
The boxes were all but empty.

I heard a car driving too fast
And I thought to myself,"Blast!
If only these fools
Could stick to some rules
They'd not die before their time was past.

My mum here has got no mention
So this one demands your attention
As her thoughts overflow
With bread, pastries, and sourdough
Ah, what to make? There's HER tension.

My (bitter)sweet sister, too
Has been forgotten, I'm sure, by you
But I still believe
That you must not grieve
Over a silly mistake or a few.

Where is the tunnels-end light?
Will I come into the night?
I wonder which way
I should now foray
Should I flee or should I fight?

This nonsense to you must be jarring
To the uninitiated, even scarring
So I essay
To stop right away
This limerical poem that was starring:
ME!! My Dad!! My Mum! My Sister!! Mints!!

- Aveek Katiyar 10:05 PM
11 July '05

Dormant

2005-07-01T21:44:00.000+05:30

Dormant. Yes, that is what this blog has become. I am hoping to change that in a bit, but until then, well...

Reason: I've been grounded till I go to M-UWC-I, so I ahve no access to the computer. My friend is posting this for me... I ahve asked her to type this, so dad if you're reading this, NO, I did not illegally get on the net, ok??

Will try to update in a bit. See you guys around!!

Kryptonite

2005-06-04T13:54:00.000+05:30

I grew up in a land far away
Where it was hot and always day.
We had two suns – one here, one there
That illuminated our planet everywhere.
But our Krypton was dying fast
And we had long since seen the last
Of our peaceful lives;
Our husbands, children, friends and wives
As everyday we could feel
The ground no more on even keel.
Earthquakes in plenty were felt
Lives were lost, and many lost their wealth
As buildings, cars, and planes were taken
By the surface which was a-breakin'
And so one fine man with money plenty
Went down to his basement, which was empty
Except for one large box,
Large enough to hold a fox
And took from it a cylinder slender
And over a year he took to mend her.

For he was a powerful man
A scientist of the Yakooboo clan
And was aspiring to be a family man.
The year before, he was inspired
(By the first tremors ever fired)
to go home and see his wife
to give up work for family life.
But he knew his world would pass
Before he had breathed his last,
Gone west, KAPLOW!
And he thought, "Wow!
What if I'm still there
When this planet gives us the scare
Of our lives by blowing up?
Will my kids be safe from the rut?"
And so it was that he made
A cylinder shaped ship made out of jade
And rubies and diamonds and such
But it really couldn't fit in much
Except a child or two
But he thought that space for one should do.

And so it was that one fine day
That he became a dad in the Year of the Lay
And just a month had passed
Before the tragedy came at last.
At semi-dusk, after a fine sunny day
The ground finally fell away
"This is the end!!' he thought.
So quickly he went down and got
The spaceship, all glittering green
And put in his son, serene,
Because the child knew not
Into what he had just got
And to save him from fate's horrible berth,
His dad sent him to planet Earth.

The ship went rocketing into the sky
Its tail bidding the doomed planet goodbye
For the instant they were out of sight,
The planet blew up with all its might.
But the little boy, he went on
Full of life, though his world was gone.
And a month or so down the line
While everything was going fine
In a small town in southern Cal.
A wife (whose husbands name was Hal)
Chanced to see a shooting star
Fall from the sky next to her car.
"Hal!!" she screamed, terrified,
"Oh my god! I nearly died!
For had I been at that spot
A second ago I should have been shot
By that bullet of tremendous size –
Hey! Wait, do I see eyes
Hidden in that smooth, hard shell?
Let's go see if the thing is well."
And so they walked fast
To the green object the sky had cast
Upon their yard that very night
Thrown at Earth with Krypton's might.

"Open it! Open it quick!"
her voice was calm, her tone was slick.
With anticipation in their eyes
They pressed buttons of the largest size
Till they heard a loud 'POP'
And when they looked at its top
What should they see?
A gurgling, squirming baby!
"He's so tall! Look at his eyes!"
"Oh my god! Jesus Christ!"
"Thank you for this blessing, O One above!
We shall give him all our love!"
"But look, he came from the stars!"
"No matter! Now he is ours!"
"Oh Hal! What shall we name the lad?
Henry, Michael, Steven, maybe Jad?"
To which Hal replied with ease
"Clarke Kent his name will be."
And so it was that the couple fair
Got a child, from God knows where.

Clarke's life in school was fun;
He got to play and run
All across the grounds everyday,
Clarke Kent was here to stay!
He always did well in class
And answered only when asked.
On the track he was a sight
He overcame obstacles with his superior might
He could jump higher and run faster
He could even hold up the P.T. master!
His strength was his, a trait
Of Clarke Kent's physical state.
So for many years life went swell
Everything was good, his family well.
Then one day he felt a change
In his already potent range
Of ammo, guns and the like
Of great hearing and amazing sight.
He heard everything in the hall
And he could see through the wall
He could jump high as a pole
If anything moved
Be it a leg or a hoof
Well, he could sense it all.
All this he confided in his best friend Kate
[Who, incidentally, was his date]
That night at dinner, when
He heard a crash and then
Some people screaming so he ran
To the upturned, blazing van
And ripped open the door and went in
To the fierce, scorching din
And burst out with husband and wife,
Both in his arms, both very much alive.
Yet he, amazingly enough,
Wasn't even hurt by the boiling stuff.

By this time Kate arrived on the spot
"Goodness gracious me!" she thought
"My dear Clarke! You're still alive!
And you saved both husband and his wife!
But what is this? You are unburnt
By that flaming van upturned!
And how did you get here so fast
And jump over that five-storey cliff and last
Out without breaking a shoulder
Even though you landed on this hard boulder?"
Clarke thought for a while
And then he said with a smile
"It must have been the Calcium C
that my mother gave me
that enabled me to take a leap
from so high up upon this heap.
But I don't feel normal, I don't feel fine.
I'm going to ask dad if he's truly mine
Because these traits do not show
In mom, dad or my bro.
I know there's something here not right
I don't need fantastic sight
I'm sure not everything does indeed fit
But Kate! Come, lets eat a bit
For I am famished, and hungry too!
And I was thinking, are not you?"
At the end of dinner he asked her out
And she said "Yes! Without a doubt!
Where shall we go next time we meet?
Must we go somewhere to eat?
I wish to see the stars and moon
And orchids and roses in full bloom."
To this he said "I know a place
Where we can gaze and gaze at outer space.
A little field behind my home
Where we can both be alone
And I was wondering if - "
"Shhh! There's my older brother Biff!
He really hates you
And all the things that you do.
Why don't you drop me now
And I'll get home somehow."

And so it was that after dinner,
Clarke felt like a real winner.
He had a girl, he had a life
And he saved that husband and wife.
And now in the nights later hours,
He wanted to know how he got those powers
So he asked his dad
"Why can I se through the wall?
Why can I hear everything in the hall?
That I can jump high as a pole
That I achieve all my goals?"
To which his father softly said
[Because he was sick in bed]
"Ah Clarke, you're old enough now
To know when and why and where and how
You came from the stars unseen
In a spaceship glittering green.
You know that box in the garage
Saying '1974 in March'?
That box holds your ship
And a clip we found at your hip.
We took you in from the stars
As though you were one of ours."
And then he proceeded to extract
A chip colored silver and black.
Clarke took the chip in his hand
[It was stretchy like a rubber-band]
And planet Krypton materialized
Right there in front of his eyes.
And then he saw a man just like him
Say "Hello son, I'm last of kin.
In fact, I'm you're dad,
And I know you think you're going mad
But listen give me some time
And then everything will be fine.
You were my only child and I
Wanted to save you even if I died.
So I sent you to Planet Earth
Whose sun's enormous girth
Would give you powers that no man
Could ever have had, or ever can.
Use these powers well my boy
For they are no ordinary toy
These powers you must not waste
Use them to good taste
I know you will, because you are wise
I could see it in your month-old eyes
Good-bye my son! Miss you, we shall - "
At which point father Hal
Said "Oh me! Oh my!
You Kryptonites can fly!"
Clarke did not believe his dad –
Which was rather sad –
Because daddy did point out a fact…
But now it was time for Clarke to act.
He set off at a sprint towards the mill
Just beyond the very next hill
And when he reached the fall
He jumped, and didn't come back down at all.
"Oh my god! I'm flying! Its true!
Dearest father! Thank you! Thank you!
I shall use my powers well
To save the good, and send the rest to Hell!"
And with that, Clarke flew away
And has not returned till this day
Leaving his belongings unfurled
Along with a ship from another world.

Clarke Kent by day, Superman by night
Does his very best to fight
All who do not heed law today
In a country called the U.S.A.
His superior hearing, his ability to fly
His power to fry you with his naked eye
Shoplifters and terrorists alike
Are no match for his super-human might
The cities guardian angel is he
Buzzing around, busy as a bee.
There is no crime he cannot stop
He is the ultimate super-cop.
Upon crime he has a hex
He wears 'Chaddies' over his spandex!
He can stop a plane and sink a ship
He can carry the world on his hip

Should there be a crime
My name they call
I'm 'Superman' to one and all.

- Aveek Katiyar

The Return Of The Silver Arrows

2005-05-09T09:43:00.000+05:30

No, I'm not talking about some new fad in amazon warfare. I'm talking about West McLaren Mercedes, Kimi Raikkonen, and his mind-blowing pace.
The Spanish circuit (Circuit De Catalunya) saw the comeback of formula-1 giants McLaren-Mercedes - something that wasw coming for some time qith the super-competitive pace of the new McLaren of 2005 from the beginning of the season. Kimi Raikkonen stormed through the length of the 4.62 Km track to come third in the first qualifying session, and then took to the track yet another scorcher during second qualifying to gain pole position, while team-mate Juan Pablo Montoya could only get a mere 7th, though still ahead of the two struggling Ferrraris of Michael Schumacher(8th) and Ruben Barrichello(16th).
As the five red lights went out to start the Spanish Grand Prix, Kimi got of to (yet another) flying start, pulling away from title leader and second-placed Fernando Alonso by a second in the first lap.

But this wasn't just a one flying lap by Kimi - he kept this blistering pace up through the entire race, moving a second aa lap quicker than Fernando, and two seconds quicker than almost everyone else. His McLaren team-mate JPM, however, had a very interesting race, spinning most mysteriously through turns 7 and 8 but making a fantastic recovery and proceeding to pretend nothing happened at all.
By the first round of pit-stops, Kimi was 26 seconds in fromt of Alonso, which got him into andd out of the pits still ahead of him, though only just. However, Alonso still had to stop for fuel, so Kimi was under no real threat.
By about lap 35 Kimi lapped a most stubborn Barrichello, who almost refused to move over when the Silver Arrow of the Finn shot by him:

The other Ferrari had absolutely no luck either, with reigning world champion Michael Schumacher, who was fighting for 8th place with McLaren's JPM, was exiting the pits just as the two Mclarens of JPM and Kimi Raikkonen respectively bored down on the Scuderia Ferrari, Kimi lapping JPM and in the proscess cutting off Schumachers exit, giving JPM the advantage by lettting him follow just behind his team-mate to get the btter of Schumi. Michael was finally beginnig to look good, when he suddenly had to pit for a deflated rear tyre. Things got no better for hime either, as on his outlap while on a quick right hander his front-left Bridgestone also deflated, throing the front of his car into the gravel and severely damaging the under-carraige and the side pods of his Ferrari. The German ace limped back to the pits to retire shortly afterwards.
By the second round of pit-stops around lap 49, Kimi Raikkonen had stapmed his authority allover the Catalan circuit and over all the cars and their drivers. The last time McLaren had won here was thee hands of another Fying Finn - Mika Hakkinen - and Kimi has kept the Finnish flag flying high.
Kimi has earned his Champagne, and may he win every race there is. All hail the next world-champion!!

All For This One Moment

2005-04-28T19:22:00.000+05:30

Does this picture remind you of someone? Does that smile remind you of someone? Does that bring back a memory?
Sure does.

I found this picture at the Inner Ring Road junction, at Koramangalal. Its an advert. for Lufthansa Airlines, which goes like this:

"Flying from 5 Metros in India, with the best connectionss to anywhere in the world.

All for this one moment."

Somehow, the picture reminded me so much of Mona. It really did. I miss her, and I miss her hug. So much. I couldn't get the picture out of my head, so I went and took a few pictures of it today, and showed them to my mum. She, without any suggestion, also identified it as a reminder of Mona. Its the smile. Its taht unforgettable, wonderful smile of hers that once you've seen, you cannot forget. Everytime I think of it, a smile creeps into my expression. And stays there. So, its not just my torn memory thats getting the better of me after all.

All I want is that one moment. Just once more, to be with her, to talk to her, to tell her how much I miss her still, and how much I love her still. I'll give anything for this one moment. All for this one moment.

The Garage

2005-04-01T21:01:00.000+05:30

From the beginning of the week before last, I (finally) got my holidays. And the first thing that I did was applied to Valley school, so that even if I didn't get into MUWCI (Mahindra United World College, India) I'd not have to go back to Deeksha. Phew... That took a lot off my mind.
So the next logical thing to do is - SLEEP!!!!! Ok, apart from that little indulgance, I decided to go and work the length of my holidays in a garage as an apprentice to a mechanic. So I went to this place in Koramangala caled R.A.C (Ranjith Autocare Centre) to who I used to give my car to for minor fixes. I knew the guy pretty well, so he said "OK, you come at 9, leave at 5, six days a week." Which I was perfectly fine with. So, now I'm working at a garage intead of doing whatever I want to during my holidays. Actually, I'm doing just what I want - I'm learning quite efficiently about cars, by actually taking them apart by hand, examining them, modifying them, and putting 'em back together.
Over the past week, I've been working on a Zen which has been completey stripped of its parts, leaving just a metal body in place. When I started working on it, the engine block had already been removed, and I got to work on modifying an Esteem engine that we were going to transplant onto the Zen. I Checked the piston timing, cleaned the heads, adjusted the fuel injectors. Then we went about boring the engine out, giving us 0.2L more space to burn fuel, hence increasing the output by about 4 bhp. The next part was placing the engine in the (slightly) smaller engine bay of the Zen. Luckily it was all the same company (Suzuki) os there was not too many areas where a new hole had to be drilled to fit the engine. Now its not easy to fix the engine back and all, cause its pretty darned heavy, so we put it on a wheeled tray, and then raised the whole body of the car over it (using a hydraulic lift), and then lowered the body over it when it was in place.
Then we were under the car on mats, fixing the various screws into the cars body, securing the engine as tightly and snugly as we could. The tools are quite marvelous - necessity is the mother of invention after all. One thing that struck me as odd (and even when I think about it now, it feels a bit strange even though it is sorta DUH..) was the fact that the engine was attached by normal, ordinary nuts and bolts. I know that to someone who's not interested, you may think that I'm a tottal idiot, but when I thought about it, I always took for granted that the engine qould just be there. It never struck me that it was actually attached by normal screws. Anyways...
Next, we took the suspension apart, and stiffined it. We took the springs out, put in Esteem springs, and are planning to replace them with Koni springs (which, by the way, are THE BEST springs on the planet). Then we adjusted the vacuum tubes that help make up the shock absorber system, increasing them ever so slightly to make the suspension harder. There's a lot of welding to be done as well, which I didn't do. However we finally adjusted the height of the springs, and the suspension was much better equipped.
Then we took apart the steering section and worked on it. The last chap who used the car had ripped his rack and pinion system apart - it was all dented and bumpy and bruised, and the rubber boots were all worn out. We took the whole thing apart - it looks easy, but trust me, its not. We basically had to take apart four rods from three shafts, but they were so tightly placed togetther, it took us a total of three hours non-stop work just to take it apart and find the rods amongst the grime. Then we went about cleaning the rods, shafts, and fixtures - another hours worth of work - and after we'd finished it we realised that it was ruined. So then we waited a few more hours after ordering the parts from the Maruti/Suzuki showroom, and went about fixing the entire system up from scratch. It all required so much grease, I thought that I'd puke if I saw anymore for the rest of the day. Finally we got it working again, and we've left it to 'set', so to speak. We'll fix it back tomorrow.
The next thing that we've done is changed the wheel support system. Instead of keeping the Zen's system, we put in an Esteem one, which has a stronger support base, and has better performance brakes. Again, luckily we were transplanting parts from the same manufacturer, so there was minimal 'friction' between the transplanted parts and their corresponding slots. The Esteem has much larger disc brakes, which help decresae the braking distance, and making the car a safer package. We were going to put Brembo Brake Discs, but realised that we didn't have the money (about 20 grand... ouch.), and so stuck to brand new Esteem brakes (also freshly ordered from the factory).
We've also designed Headers and a new manifold for the car's engine. On top of the Esteems standard fuel injection system, we've taken apart the standard injector plate, and we've fabricated a much thicker metal plate as a support replacement and fixed it on. Then we fabricated bent pipes that we cut and welded onto the manifold plate. These tubes (which have a pretty decent diameter) pump fueel inot the engine, and we've made them arch over the mainframe of the engine, making it look like one of them American muscle-cars of yore, with the piping protruding from the bonnet like twin snakes rearing up for a viscious sting to the engine. Then, we custom made a free-flow exhaust system, making the exhaust tubes of equal length so tthat there's enough back-pressure on the engine, which increases the bhp of the car by about 5-6 bhp. We're still working on that particular aspect of the engine setup, as we are unable to fabricate the rest of the tube that leads upto the muffler.
I finally figured out EXACTLY how the famous Turbo-Charger works on a car. Basically it starts off at the exhaust pipe, using the presssure of the expelled gases to turn a turbine, which turns another turbine in another container, which sucks in COLD air and feeds it to the engine, which adds to the fueel/air mixture richness, making a more powerful engine. It can be made to work between a specific RPM (Revolutions Per Minute - The little meter beside the speeedometer on the display that says'1,2,3,4,5,6 x1000' on the instrument display in the cockpit of the car...) range, adding to the rate of increase of the acceleration of the car in that range. So when you hear that a car has a Twin-Turbo, it just means that there are 2 Turbo systems that kick in at different times, hance increasing the accceleration over two ranges of RPM, making the car even quicker.
Some total F*&ker has a Turbo-Charged Honda City over here. That thing is going to be a rocket.

This guy Ranjith is one of the best rally drivers in Bangalore, and he's a professsional tuner, so people come to him to do their cars up - engine mods, I mean. There's this group of car-crazy friends who come to him to modify their cars - 2 Cielos, a Honda City V-Tec(God), a Palio 1.6 GTX(God/s younger brother), and one more car that I haven't seen yet. I've made friends with them, and they are just nuts. They've spent ver 2 Lakhs EACH on their cars to extract the maximum perdormance from them. In my opinion, the guy in the City V-tec is the luckiest. He's got Free-Flow, K'n N Filters, Headers, the works on his V-TEC, which will eat anything alive even in its stock form.

Here is the cool part though. The Zen that we're working on? Ranjiths partner Sanjay is heading the operation. He knows I'm inoto design and all, so he asked me to design a front for the Zen. He wanted it done in a specific way:

1. A hood scoop for air for the injector pipes.
2. A new bumper.
3. No grille on the front, and the bumper muct slope up to the bonnet, not a 90* flat vertical line. It must look angled like a Camaro's bumper.
4. No other modifications - no skirts either, so I must work with the current dimentions of the Zen. Ouch.

So I drew him a concept with what he wanted - it isn't completely to my liking, as I think that it would look much, much better with skirts. But he has a good reason for not adding skirts or frills - weight reduction. Taking off everything in the car makes it go even faster, so the less on the car, the quicker it will be. He wants to Drag Race andStreet race this car, so He's oin to lower the car by about 2 inches, making it lower than the Honda City (Which is suicide for the bottom, so he's got a thin metal sheet under the entire car to protect the undercarraige) and hence making it more stable. Here's the drawing - He actually said that he'd build it!!! HOW COOL!!! I'm not even 18, and I got one desing under my belt!!!!! :-D

The Satch Has Arrived!

2005-03-18T16:33:00.000+05:30

For anyone who knows who The Satch is, well, there's the whole post in the title, essentially. For those of you who don't:

Satch = Joe Satriani, and his god given ability to twist those strings of that awesome guitar of his. Looks like all my ranting and raving of 'Satriani must come here' and 'Satriani = God' and everything else that I must have subjected everyone to finally came to something!!! AAAAHHHHH!!!!!! He is playing at Calcutta, Mumbai, and Bangalore. The dates:

1. 14th May 05 at MMRDA Grounds Bombay

2. 15th May 05 at Salt Lake City Grounds Calcutta

3. 17th May 05 at Palace Grounds Bangalore

I'm gonna start praying that someone is really nice to me, and givves me two passses to see my God.
So, Himanshu...? Going or not? Anyone else? And even if you aren't, please please please get me a pass - please!!!

OK, now I'm going to go back andd start thanking all my posters and my guitar and my discamn, and Sony Records, and Mona for all giving me Satriani. ALL HAIL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Passes out, falls down the stairs, and opens eyes to poster of satriani in his room. Slowly dies of dehydration as drool starts to flow, and pseudo neurotoxins kick in.]

The Satch Has Arrived!

Women (Part II)

2005-03-10T19:24:00.000+05:30

I know I've wirtten about this before... those of you who visited this site in its earlier stages would have read it. In case you haven't and don't wanna go through the archives searching for it, there's a link at the end of the post. Click on it. Meanwhile, I'm in the mood to do some woman bashing (sad as that sounds, and I know that I'm gonna get tons of flak for it, but I currently couldn't care less.)...

Women are the best thing to have hit the Shopping Mall, and the WORST thinng to have hit Adam, or in this case, Aveek. They're just so disgusting. Not for the first time, I've just let them take me for a ride. It's disgraceful, the things that I (and here I speak generally, for mst guys who try to be spontaneously nice, much as that sounds contradictory to my personality) am willing to overlook, the things that I am willing to do, the times I am ACTUALLY WILLING to listen to what she (again, here I speak of women in general, no specific cases - yet) has to say, or, more likely, wants from me. Its just sick, the way they manipulate.
The way they expect the world from you, and have absolutely no concern for your broken back as you get it for her. The way they expect you to deliver thee goods EACH AND EVERY TIME, but get pissed off if you ask them for a glass of water after all your work. The way they give you importance when they want something, and the way they discard you afterward. The way they think that every man was made to serve them, and the way they look and act offended when the man occasionally says no. The way they turn every situation around to ALWAYS make it look like your fault, and instead of them apologising to you, its the other way around. And during the (EXTREMELY RARE) times they do apologise, they make it look like they're doing it to stop you from losing your cool over a perfectly logical situation, where you (as usual) are the one to blame, like they're helping you or something.
What total b*tch*s.
I never will understand them, and I never want to. They s*ck. They're not worth my time. They're not worth anyone's time. and get hung by meat hooks.

(I have no clue where this is going, so I think I'll stop for the moment, and write the rest in my diary...)

Women

United World Colleges

2005-03-03T20:31:00.000+05:30

How cool can today get?! I ot up in the morning, and had a fantastic breakfast, and then I went to pick up my Honda. They'd done my baby up so beautifully! They'd changed her brake discs, given her oil for the drums, and had stiffened the clutch and the steering shaft, making her as sexy as new. I never want that car sold. It still (out)performs everybody's expectations, and dad wants to sell it. Must dissuade him.
Then, in the evening, I got a letter from U.W.C. inviting me for an interview in Pune on the 16th of April!! Hallelujah!! What fun thihs is going to be! I've already made plans to drive down from Mumbai with Hrishikesh in the Opel or the Indigo. This is just so exciting!!
And finally, to top it off, I got PASSES to seee (AND MAYBE MEET!!!!!!!!) the God of Rock Himself - Mr. Mark Knopfler!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
The coolest part is that in the middle of all this I've got exams, and I don't seem to care... I seem sufficiently well prepared, so... HONDA!!!!! MARK KNOPFLER!!!!!! UNITED WORLD COLLEGES!!!!!! HERE I COME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[/Euphoria and sheer exhaustion kick in at the same time, leaving me inone really wierd condition]

Dire Straits - Money For Something

2005-02-28T11:50:00.000+05:30

Yeah, money for something, and it better be good. But then again, its Mark Knopfler that we're talking bout, so it can't be anything below awesome.Its less than three days before my exmas start, and I'm still to start preapring. I have become the laziest person on the planet, and I'm too lazy to fix it. Instead of focusing on my exams, I'm trying my very best to get two tickets for the Mark Knopfler concert - not that anyone car completely blame me for wanting to see God himself!

I took back my criticism on Sting, but I have none for Mr. Knopfler. I hope I will not have any reasons to have any. As far as I - not to mention almost every guitar-playing/observing fan on this planet - am concerned, the only thing that he can do wrong is play studio recordings of his music. This is one artiste whose best performances are Live. Has anyone heard Alchemy? He played Live, and all the songs are like liquid tension (Speaking of which, there was a band called Liquid Tension Experiment. Alternative Hard Rock. Very good if you're into serious Rock and all. I can get you a CD if you're really interested.).
The sound from that strat was enrapturing. It was like sipping Vodka in the Carribean, with these hundreds of servants attending to you on your personal beach alongside you're 200-acre mansion. The only thing different was that the sea, instead of being green, was elctric blue, and pulsating, and each wave would rise, soar, and fall in the wake of another one, in the most beautiful pattern ever.
He would be mad to not play like that here, or for that matter, anywhere. Even if just to show what he's capable of, for those poor sould who don't know already. He must play Hard Rock. He mut play Sultans Of Swin the way I've heard it, the way everyone should hear it. They must realise that it IS possible to better yor studio recordings by 1000%, and to change the song from cool, laid-back, almost jazzy to electric, divine sound that WILL take you to a better place.

I'm waiting...

Mystical Potato-Head Groove

2005-02-19T19:03:00.000+05:30

This one starts off as a poem written by me. I mailed it to Aasimah, and then we've been at it for a few days, talking only in rhymes. I've put up the subsequent replies to this as a comment, so if you want to read what we have written, or just post a comment of your own, please click the comments link.

Wiggle your ears
Bring out some tears
Shake and make your whole head move!
Grin till you frown
And hang upside-down
Lets do the mystical potato-head groove!

Put on some pop
Take off your top
Dance till your legs give way!
Chew lots of ice
Feed all the mice
Thats the mystical potato-head way!

Run up and dowwn
Through the length of the town
Once you're done, do it all over again!
Get a TV
And a couch, both for free
And be like mystical potato-head men!

Eat your heart out
Keep your dog out
Be as mean as you can!
Drive fast cars
But never drink in the bars
Act like a mystical potato-head fan!

Go to NIMHANS
Flunk your exams
Get a scary result!
Make a lightening scar
And be happy that you are
Finally part of the mystical potato-head cult!

The things you must do
That just are not you
To keep yourself with the 'in' crowd
You know they're artificial
And they know it too
So prey, why are you so loud?

Just be who you are
Reset the bar
Stop being something pseudo!
Tell 'em just what you think
Or put it down in ink
Andd get back to playing Ludo.

So, what would you like to do?

Snort through your nose
Bathe with the hose
Pretend you're part of Star Trek's crew?
Have smelly underwear
Or cut your own hair
And do whatever you want to do?

Or would you rather wiggle your ears
Bring out some tears
Shake and make your whole head move?
Grin till you frown
And hang upside-down
And do the mystical potato-head groove?

You decide...

Live!!LIVE!!LIVE!! And Coming To A City Near You! - Follow Up I (Sting)

2005-02-05T21:53:00.000+05:30

OK, I take it all back... every little bit of critisicm towards Sting. The man is brilliant. He's a legend in his own lunchtime!

I went to his concert yesterday, after much running around to sell my last 2-grand ticket... but still, I enjoyed the concert completely and fully. He(Sting) layed all his favorite songs - ranging from Brand New Day, Fields Of Gold, and Sacred Love to Roxanne, Fragile, and Every Breath You Take. He is fantastic. There is no other word for the man. While others have had thier 15 seconds of fame, this man has lived on, straight from when my dad was as old as me to GenX, and has kept producing exquisite sound. Wave after wave of music, blending in perfectly with the previous note, seemingly chaotic, but fluid and purposeful. All his songs were captivating. His Bass Guitar was ripping the place apart, and his stunning vocals melted through the matter of my mind. That man is like wine - he just gets better and better with age.
His entire stage presence wasn't one of the rock idol, but rather that of the smooth operator, who knew exactly what he was doing, and injecting that little bit of electricity here and there. His entire laid-back yet powerful attidute was quite a change from what Bangalore is used to - what with the likes of The Rolling Stones, Roger Waters, and Deep Purple all oozing that adrenaline rush through to everyone.

Now for thee only glitch in the entire concert (Yes Sneha, there always is) - his first song, Brand New Day, started off quite well with the whole guitar riff thing. Then he sang:
How many of you people out there
Been hurt in some kind of love affair
How many tibes you be ab bo ba bop again?

Yes. He lost the line. Completely. But, Sting being Sting, he just went on with the 'Be Bo Ba Ba-Doum' and made it sound so natural, like it was part of the original song. Only if you caught it and looked at his face would you notice the slight grimace on his face at the end of the line. None-the-less, 10 points to him for his cover-up. Well done.

And here come the plus-points:
All his songs were perfect. He didn't try too many stunts on stage, and stuck to the original tune of each andd every song. If you've ever heard his 'All This Time' album, you'll understand the relief I experienced. Roxanne, the song that should never be altered, never was. It was perfect. He stretched it, but in a nice sorta way, not in a 'personal touch' disaster way.
He played Fields Of Gold perfectly. I (along with the rest of the crowd) loved it. And he loved singing it too. You could see it on his face, and hear it in his voice.
Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic. Should be altered to Every Little Thing He Does Is Magic. It is. The man is a genius.

Sneha, you're absolutely right. He is a fantastic performer. I take back absolutely anything bad that I ever said about him. He is right back on his pedestal as one of my all-time musical Idols.

How Genuine-Imitation Can You Get?

2005-02-02T21:22:00.000+05:30

Ever seen these sidey shops that sell 'genuine-imitation' leather? Or those places that offer you the original replica of a watch at a subsidised price? What the heck is that supposed to mean? Is it genuine leater and an imitation of a design, or is it fake leather, and a genuine design? and if it's an original, why is it a replica? Or if it's a replica, does it matter who made it? It's still going to be a copy(This is a little more debatable than it might look...)
On the saubject of replication, imitation, and other such topics, take a look at the shot of the car - its a Ford RS Cosworth. The shot was taken in Palm Meadows, where I live. This is a 1:24 scale model (Which means 1/24 times the size of the real thing) that's about 5 years old, and extremely worn. Tell me how real it looks...
5 Stars - Genuine.
4 Stars - Genuine Imitation.
3 Stars - Original Replica.
2 Stars - Imitaiton Replica.
1 Star - Cheap, Badly Animated Photo.
No Star - Just plain worthless.

P.S. I'm uploading a Ferrari F40 (In my opinion, the best lookibg and performing - in its era - ferrari ever. Another Model car.). Same rating pattern. Tell me what you think.

Ban America! And Prince Harry Is Perfectly Fine Too...

2005-01-21T10:11:00.000+05:30

The entire debate bout the Americans being all scandalised by the Olympic opening ceremony is such garbage. I mean, what te hell? It's the Americans that are SOOOO obsessed with sex, nudity and porn - and rather openly too - and then they go about pretending to be scandalised by the display of what was not intended to be vulgar, but a display of culture. From when did America become the governing body on what is unsuitable for viewing, and who gave them the right to decide anything?
Who says they have the authority to impose their ideals on everyone as they please? If you ask me, Americans are the biggest hypocrites on the planet. They are always sticking thies over-size noses into everyone's business, trying to act like big-brother, and more often thatn not end up making a hash of things - which they then try to justify by fighting a war with Iraq, a country who never did anything to them, had no WMDs, had no citizen who violated any regulations, except maybe the one that (doesn't) state that ony Americans get equal - if not more than equal - rights, an that the rest are subject to the opinion of some racist, sexist pigs.
The 'controversy' about the Olympics was just another dot in the mega-pixel page of this American intrusion to other peoples, cultures, and civilizations customs. If they buy the Pirelli calendar every year (it is one of the highest selling calendars in the States) and find it most fitting in their living rooms, bed-rooms, and bathrooms, I do not see how they can call a culture's customs vulgar, and in ill taste. After all, they hang 'Art' in thier homes, but are disgusted by the 'unfit' images they see by anthing that does not have 'Pirelli' written under it.

And about the Swastika. I saw absolutely nothing wrong in what Prince Harry did. It was a 'historical' party, and was the Swastika a huge part of history - in whichever way? Wearing it doessn't mean you support it, it just means it's your choice of costume, to look like a major historical figure. After all, thats what the whoe party was about. It's like the Hilfiger Debate, it's just in a slightly different context. Instead of saying that his clothes were designed on a caucasian platform, Prince Harry chose his wardrobe to imitate an easily identifiable historical symbol. Were there any reglations saying please do not wear anything that may offend? And even if they were unsaid, then what was the point of wearing any thing historical? I'm sure everyone has something agains't someone or the other. Iff someone dressed up like Noah, then someone would get all fired up and argue that by dressing up as Noah, they were suggesting that civilization were founded in Europe. Or if someone dressed up as Moses, that they were sugesting that Egyptian civilization was the leading civilization at that time. Or if someone dressed up Jesus that they were saying that Jesus is discriminating agains't Bramha, or Allah, only keeping in mind the Jews and Chritains.
I mean, all these are just plain absurd, and if you look at the Prince Harry incident, so was that. As it is, today's world of liberalizaion and freedom, we can say and do what we want without bringing up socail stigmas, and without trying to blame anyone for something that had happened so long ago. I'm quite surprised that the Americans didn't say anything... maybe their lack of IQ prevents them from saying anthing worth listening to.
What right does the German government have banning another cultures symbol? Just because it was adopted and manipulated to strike fear in peoples hearts, doen't mean it does not have its original relevance. It is like banning the Turban and scarves of Sikhs and Muslims. It's a part of their culture. Tomorrow if everyIndian in Europe has a pooja with the Swastika adorning their houses, will the British, German, French, Spanish and Portugese Secret Service investigate the houses, and abduct these people because of their alleged connection - however far fetched - to the Nazis? What absolute Balderdash. The problem is that people want attention. They want everyone to turn their way and give them lots and lots of attention. If I say anything about Nazis, Sneha and Arjun will stick up for what they believe, because they know someone who's grandparents fought in those times. I mean no offense to them, or to the third person, but if you could just forget it, it would make life so much more liveable. Imagine everytime sameone says 'Swastika' a Jew breaks down or starts cursing everone thats german, or for that matter, everyone thats not Jewish? I think thats just plain stupid. Its dumb and thoughtless that people will hold grudges that are 50 years old, and take offense for something that has been halted, and duly apologised for? What the F*CK IS WITH THIS STUPID HUMAN RACE???

Introspection

2005-01-17T22:31:00.000+05:30

Lately, I've been assessing most of my actions after I do them, and sometimes, on specific topics, my thoughts. I keep wondering if I'm doing something to please someone, or to try and put forward an image thtas not me, or if its something genuine. I really can't decide between whats real an genuine, and whats pseudo. Or maybe I just don't want to. Chances are that I don't want to own up to these secrets that I have, that I'm sure are harmless, but that I'm afraid o tell anyone anyways.
Sometimes when I look back, another rather interesting question pops into my mind. On assessing an action/thought that, as far as I knew was not me, it struck me that in my effort to project something that I was not, maybe, just maybe, I had adapted to that particular action, and it came so much more freely to me now... that it had become a part of me now, that it was not after all, pseudo.
There are many instances of such introspection. The most common would, of course, be the way one feels about someone else. Take, for example, a loved one, like a close friend. When they are somewhere else, but still in communication with you, 'formalities'(for lack of a better word) are exchanged. Things like,"I miss you". It is said without giving it a second thought. But think again, and more often than not, you'll realise that you were doing perfectly fine before, during and after that call, not in the least bothered by the fact that that person was so far away at that poin of time.
Another analysis of feelings would be when you say you love someone. Now I'm sure that this one is gonna be hotly contested, but I believe that before you do actually love someone for who they are, you 'love' them for some physical/material(? again, I'm not too sure I got the right word) reason. You want to be with that someone so that you can show off - or just be proud of the fact - that you got someone with that quality that no one else did. Sure, as you grow older, more perspectives filter the reasoning and choices of love - not to mention everthing else - that you encounter. Bt until then, you are still evolving, so to speak.
When you look inside(or even just below the surface, depending on how shallow you are) you will - no, might - realise that you could 'love' someone because no one else seems to want to be with you, and as you get more and more desperate for that attention, you turn to people who (probably) have some sort of inkling of the same feeling for you - or worse, in your desperation, you turn to those that don't. (Hey, this is not specifically pointed at anyone, its just a generalizaion of my analysis. Its a very small analysis, I admit, so there are bound to be many more variables and factors contributing, but as far as I have reached, these seem to be it...)
Another analysis of thought and action is something that everyone seems to do, but you can't. At least not well.But over time, depending on your deire to master it, it becomes a part of you, if even slightly. Take, for example, dancing. I have a friend (not to be named for reasons of privacy and to be saved some embarassment) wh was really conscius of himself. All he wanted to do was dance, but he was just rythmically impaired. Its not like it was his fault - all his moves were jerky, forced, and unsure. People never said anything to him as they didn't want to hurt his feelings, but he knew anyway. For years he'd just dance to be a part of the music, because he was really deeply into the music itself, and over-time, he became less 'impaired'. He could dance, at least a few twists, turns, slides and waves, with much more ease, comfort and confidence. None-the-less, whenever he did it, he became conscious, and would think,"Look at me, I'm trying this to be cool. This is not who I am. I can't dance." Until one day he realised that it WASN"T who he WAS, it was what he had BECOME. He had grown into it, and now it was no longer a pseudo action, no longer forced, unless he thought o it that way.

It's extremely interesting to do this introspection, especially about small, seemingly insignifican thoughts that you'd not give a second glance otherwise. Especially if you're in the middle of an extremely boring Chemistry class, and are caught up thinking about what you'll be, and who you'll be.
Tell me what you guys come up with.

Santa Is Evil

2005-01-10T22:17:00.000+05:30

Santa is an evil man
An evil chap with an evil plan;
He has an evil house, an evil dog
Some evil food for his evil hog.
Evil fire, evil toast
And even an evil evil ghost!
And evil daughter, an evil son,
Not to mention an evil nun!

His evil instincts force him to flick
Presents first from the dyslexic
And the evil older kids
Because his evil budget forbids
Him from making toys every evil year
So he shifts into evil gear
And recycles most evilly
The gifts he gave to you and me.

He takes them back,
He fixes them through,
And adds some nasty, evil flu
To each evil present he packs
To give all the Henrys, Jills, and Jacks.

So if you see your old evil doll
With your kid sis(who just learned to crawl)
Or your old evil toy
With some other, evil boy
Who lives in some other place
From another land, another race,
You'll know just who caused this stint
When Christmas came, but presents didn't.

- Aveek Katiyar (27 Oct '04)

Just on the topic of a bad Christmas and no presents and all... thought I'd post this. :-D.
What do you guys think...?!

My Beanie!!

2005-01-10T19:58:00.000+05:30

I lost my Beanie today :-( I miss it so much already... I've already just lost my wallet, and now this goes and happens. I hate myself. I,lose all the things I love so much.
BLAICH to me!!!
Some stupid fart-ass auto-driver came ten seconds before I got back to the site and flicked it. Some motorist guy told me that he saw him take it. Stupid moron couldn't have stopped him or taken the number or something...? *ss-H*le.
And it was such an old and good-looking Beanie. I miss it so much!!!
NNNOOOOO!!!! Don't leave me, PRRECIOUSSSS!!!! Why have you gone, never to return? Alas, woe is me! I shall mournt both You and Wallet together now. May God(assuming he exists - though lets not get into that now) rest your(Wallet's) soft leather and may You squeeze the head of that arse-hole rick driver till his brain juices flow out from his nose. Just make sure that You don't get soiled, and that You get back home to me. I'll be waiting for both of you.

(Yes, for those of you who don't already know, I am totally batty.)

Controversy

2005-01-09T11:28:00.000+05:30

Man, is it just me, or is everything I post up for the title of 'Condemned'??
Either that, or everyone has their own P.O.V.s that they wanna put forward. Still, it's beginning to loook a little nasty, isn't it? All I (seem to be able to) blog about goes under the microscope. Not that it's a bad thing, it's just that this place seems to be becoming a public venting session hall. Of course, it IS public, but yeah, still. I'm not saying don't or anything, I'm just observing the, uh, developments that are occuring. It's actually rather fun to take part in these discussions. I just hope I'm not causing too much of a str anywhere. I'm sure that Sneha and Arjun got somehing more to say to me thatn they are already. Oh boy. What a ride I seem to be in for.

I gotta post bout something else. Like kittens. Or doorknobs.

Tidal Wave

2005-01-06T21:20:00.000+05:30

OK, I know you think I caught on a little late on this one, but that’s not true - I just didn't have enough time (or patience) to write a post. And I know that you guys are gonna think that writing what I'm writing is so totally clichéd - and it probably is - but I don't care. Heck, this is MY blog and I'm gonna write what I please, so there.

(Sorry, I have no clue what just made me type that...)

Its strange - no, sad, that it takes us nothing short of death, or severe loss to make us realise what we truly cherish, and what we take for granted that we shouldn't. Things that we consciously ignore, things that we miss in the mindless hustle-bustle of our everyday lives. Things we should tell people that we don't, places we want to visit that we don't, things we want to do, but postpone for 'later'.
Its disheartening that nations say so much about 'public security' and 'concern' for the peoples of other nations, and yet let these things happen without doing a thing about it. Only after the bomb has exploded, only after the quake has eaten its share of the crust, only after the fire has engulfed to its limit, only after the wave has swept away all it can does anyone and everyone re-act. Only after the waters have calmed, so-to-speak, will people venture to 'save' the less fortunate others. So much for the age of 'information' and 'global security' and 'GPS detection' and other 'warning' systems. The Wave came, say, and pillaged all. Thank you Indonesia for informing us. Thank you Malaysia, for telling us so early. Thank you USA for your advanced computer detection systems that warned us of such an unfathomable occurrence. Thank you India, for actually acting on the information. Why the *&^% can't anyone have fail-safes?!
[Jackasses]
What the hell were you stupid fart politicians and 'leaders' doing huh? Did you feel the tremors in your 35-lakh Benz? Did you hear the cries of everyone who lost anything and everything in your 10-crore soundproof mansion? And when you did (on your 4-lakh plasma TV), did you do anything? Were you even dimly aware of the extent of damage - both physical as well as psychological - that had been caused? Did you contribute anything? Did you Visit the affected areas and PERSONALLY try and help out? Or were you too high for a lowly job like that? Did you chip in any more than the interests of one month of your bank accounts that you'd never really miss anyway? I don't recall it... sure, there are exceptions... but are you one of them? So much for your 'I will make a difference' speeches, huh? I bet you don't even know where the affected places are. As long as you're safe it’s all right, huh?

Right, sorry... I just wanted to get that off by chest. Pardon me for my poor literary skills - I just couldn't be 'WordyMcWord' as someone put it ;-). If it doesn't make sense to you, I think its cool - it didn't make sense to me either... just needed to get it out.

I can't cope with loss.
I gotta learn to ride the Wave.

Black and White

2004-12-30T11:45:00.000+05:30

So Much For Christmas

2004-12-30T09:42:00.000+05:30

YAY...! Christmas is here! And gone now. I had so much fun.
Maybe I was wrong about Christmas. Maybe it IS (NOT) the Day when you and your family laugh, unwrap gifts, call friends and family over, and have a jovial time.
Christmas is when you bribe your kids to be good next year with lots of presents, hot chocolate, and tons of cash. It's NOT when you lecture your kids on allowance, on Tsunamis and how you should think of the money we splurge on petty gifts that we could instead use to help the needy. It is NOT the time you make your kids grovel and plead on all fours to get you that amazing Hilfiger shirt that they've been raving and ranting 'bout for the past 2 months (Oh bite me if you think I'm still going on with the Hilfiger post). Is NOT the time you give your kid dirty looks and expect them to do the laundry at 8 IN THE MORNING!!! Its not the time you expect your children (fine, child) to suddenly become mature and expect him to work like a grown up person, but still refuse him any allowance, saying it helps biuld charecter (Calvin,I'm sure you agree!!). And it's NOT the time when you call your children (again - child) deaf because you've got an ulcer ad can't speak over half a decibel, and as punishment you don't get any presents.

So much for christmas. Santa can go suck an egg. And his elves can microwave themselves. Festive spirt - shmestive spirit. It can all go burn itself up in the upper layer of the atmosphere for all I care.

I love Christmas. And New Year. And any other festival that you can think of that will enable me to 'bond' with my parents. Like World Nazi Day, or something.

Tommy Hilfiger - Racist. SO WHAT?!

2004-12-22T21:32:00.000+05:30

Tommy Hilfiger. WOW. What amazing clothing. Lovely designs, fine craftsmanship and one HUGE price tag. But it’s worth it. The clothes fit perfectly, feel snug and cozy, and are hardy. Given the chance, (and the money) I’d definitely want to fill my wardrobe with this brand.
But the guy is racist. He believed that blacks shouldn’t wear his clothes. He believed that only the pure were fit to wear his range of haute couture. Should the guy (and hence, the brand) be boycotted? Should we stop buying his clothes? Should we hold a strike to show our feelings and inclinations away from (or towards) his mindset?
I have nothing against blacks. I am not some prejudiced freak. I know everyone has the same rights and should be treated similarly. I know that people shouldn’t discriminate. I know that everyone has varied opinions, and that they should have the sense to reserve some of them for themselves.
So should I stop buying his clothing in order to passively refuse to promote his brand? Does that make any sense? He does, after all, make very good clothes, clothes that I like, that I would be proud to own, clothes that I adore. Why should I stop buying? Why should I have anything against him? It’s his opinion, isn’t it? Why should I stop him from thinking what he does? It’s not like I promote some conspiracy to give blacks some sort of bar to buying his clothes, right? He isn’t doing anything actively to diss them, is he? I don’t think that by buying his brand and boosting his ego (as one of my friends has testily suggested) we are in any way promoting his hatred (?) of the blacks. Are we?
What say you?

LIVE!!LIVE!!LIVE!! And Coming To A City Near You!

2004-12-21T20:49:00.000+05:30

The artists attack! And this time they're out to prove me wrong! They will have the most marvelous live performances on the planet! They will rock the audience to the ground! They will etch the memory into our skulls! And they will make it worth waiting in mile-long cues outside Palace Grounds 5 hours before the show, screaming at everyone to move on!
That's right! The much criticized Sting, and awe-inspiring Dire Straits, and the ever-loved U2 are coming to a city near you! Now your dream of looking on in awe at these Gods performing just 20 meters in front of you can finally become a reality! Just make sure you keep yourself free on the 5th of February and the 4th of March. Especially You, Sneha.
Sting is coming here on the 5th of February!! AAAAHHHH!!! He better prove me wrong, and stun me (not to mention a significantly large population of Bangalore) with His most scintillating performance yet! All my life I hoped I'd go abroad and be at one of his performances, and it looks like my fantasies are finally taking shape!
Next on the list are Dire Straits. If you haven't heard them, go to he nearest music store, pick up their Live Album, “Alchemy" and go right to track 6 - Sultans Of Swing. 10 minutes of pure, mesmerizing Rock, and electric guitaring mastery. Mark Knopfler is not just A God, he's The God. No one can play a guitar like him, except maybe 2 or 3 other artists to ever have lived. Excellent vocal, amazing base, top-notch drumming, and, as previously described, guitaring at it's absolute best.
Last, but not least, U2. WOW. The band that has been rocking the world - most recently with their single,” Vertigo". And not so long ago with the hard hitting,” Elevation". And now they're coming here!! To India, Bangalore to show us what they're all about! I'm just at a loss for words. This is too much for me, but bring it on!!

If these bands do perform well, I will take back all my critisism and judgments. But if they don't... }:-D

My Breakfast

2004-12-12T19:33:00.000+05:30

IT'S SAUNDAY!!
Normally, I (not to mention most sane people in this galaxy) wouldn’t get up until the late afternoon. But today is different. Today I got up by 8:30 and was ready (shower an all) by 9:00. Why? Because Mum is making breakfast. Trust me, it's worth getting up for. And if I (the grand master of supreme laziness) say so, you have just got to believe it. It's not your standard morning bread-toast and butter breakfast. Or rather, not just your bread-toast and butter breakfast. It's a Five Star Hotel Multi-Course breakfast, no holes barred.
It starts off well enough, with a tall glass of fruit juice of your choice. That's about 200mL of the best juice in the world - Ceres. Then comes the first set of choices you make - do you want a HUGE (3 egg) omelet, or a HUGE (3 egg) fried egg? This decision made, within five minutes you have a huge sphere of 3-eyed egg (at least, that's what I'd choose) on your plate. This, of course, comes with standard accompaniments, in the form of unlimited mashed potato sprinkled with pepper and Tabasco sauce, and a hefty chunk of homemade brown bread. If, however, you wish to chew your potatoes and work your jaws further, you have the option of asking for Jacket Potatoes hot and fresh from the oven, sliced down the centre, and filled with butter. As you watch the butter melt along the insides of the Potato, you add the grated cheese, sprinkle with pepper and chopped sprig of spring onion, or dribble some Hot-sauce on it and take one nice, full bite of this divine creation of (wo) man.
As you recover from the dose of ecstasy, you are faced with yet another choice - Ham Slices, Bacon Strips, or Succulent Keels Sausages? Again, Keels is by far the best producer of sausages in the world. Highly recommended. You choose two (the Bacon and Sausages for me) and watch while the cook (mum) makes the sausage do all kinds of flips mid-air in front of you, and manipulates the bacon like a veteran snake charmer performing a rehearsed act.
Another shot of ecstasy. Addictive, isn't it?
Make way for another glass of that heavenly juice that God reserved for the Just - Ceres, to quench your growing thirst. You are about to go for seconds, full as you are, when you see mum taking out Desert from the oven - hot Apple Pie, which she will serve with a dollop of vanilla ice-cream. Your mind reels, now clearly at a loss as to what to do with that last square centimeter of space in your stomach (and indeed your entire body). Should you go for the potent, satisfying line-up again, or wait a few seconds till mum cuts the Pie and places the Original Sin in front of your longing eyes (and mouth)? You choose to complete this entire round, and opt for the Pie.
The Pie, served in a crystal glass bowl, comes with the ice cream already melting at its side, just begging to be devoured. And so you oblige! Without waiting for mum to finish explaining how many hours it took her to perfect everything, you, in one fell swoop, you make a great void where the Apple Pie so recently was. You feel its warmth as it (not so) softly settles itself in your stomach, and feel the world going hazy again. (And here the ecstasy kicks in again...)

You wake up in your room, snug under the covers of your bed. You look at the time, and it's the early evening. But you don't care. You can't move, and you don't want to. Or have to. Mum and Dad leave you to yourself, respecting the unsaid Law of Rest after Heaven. Slowly, slowly you drift back into the blurry world of the semi-conscious, and then into an all-together blissful sleep.

And that, dear readers, is what makes my life worth living. Bon Appetit!

LIVE!! LIVE!! LIVE!!

2004-12-09T18:08:00.000+05:30

For all you people who are into music - and I mean real music, not Maiden, Blcksabbath, or Megadeath - here's an interesting question to to waste time thinking about. Why the heck can't you're favorite artiste perform well on stage?? Oh come on, you know that all his live performances SUCKED!
Have you ever noticed the (complete abscence of) quality your singer has when it comes to a live performance? Take, for example, Sting. He's one of my musical idols. Amazing music since god-alone-knows-when. I recently came across one of his more recent albums, called "All This Time" where he sang all his famous hits like 'Roxanne', 'Fields Of Gold', 'A Thousand Years', and so on live. And he sucked. He (quite literally) wasn't singing it. He was speaking it, with a little pitch adjustment here and there.
Now everyone may think it sounds damn cool to give their concerts a 'personal' touch, and make the audience feel (almost) interacted with, but in reality, all they do is spoil one heck of a good song for no real reason. And to top this off, people pretend to have loved it, just so they can be Cool, and be part of the In Crowd.
As far as I know, the only artist that is an exeption to this is Dire Straits. Their album "Alchemy", is live in london, and it is electric!!! If you've heard 'Sultans Of Swing' and liked it, you will go bananas after hearing the Live version - 10 minutes of a pure, electric, sensational Mark Knopfler ceation at its absolute best. WOW. Him and Joe Satiriani are the only guitarist - performers that do a really good job of it - intentionally.
Of course, there's other people who do it well in concert. But that's not because they want to do it that way - it's because they know no other way to do it, and so it sounds a lot like the recorded thing, which, frankly, I don't think the mob - oops! - crowd minds.
A classic example is (forgive me Aasimah) Bryan Adams. Sure, he's got some good music, looks, and voice, but damn, he's got absolutely no creativity. Not that its a bd thing, I thought that he performed really well on stage, coming and getting some girls to sing wit him and all. And that would only be possible if he stuck to his original tune, which he did.
And, to give due credit to Arjun's Gods, Maiden didn't perform that bad either, and I quite liked a live recording (that shouldn't make sense, right...? ;-) ) of Metallica that I heard.
If you look inside and question yourself, I'm confident that you will find you feel the same. Some one should sue these rich p*mps for emotional trauma or something. I mean, how can anyone put up with bad music?? Even the artist him/her/themselves?

Not ONE Blog

2004-12-08T18:20:00.000+05:30

I've been through many interesting blogs recently(mostly my friends'), and I have found one consistency in all of them - they all have a specific point which they build up to in every post. It's really quite facinating, when you compare styles of writing and se, quite clearly, the difference between good, bad, and really spectacular writing. I have also realised that most of my posts have a theme, but I'm always heading off on a tangent to what-ever it was that I was trying to say in the first place. This post is no exeption.
Blogs of particular interest:
Meghna's Blog(On my links bar)
Arun Katiyar's Blog(Also on my links bar)

You have just got to see the way they string otherwise random phrases into a strong foundation, and then build right up with a solid structure, and finish it off in a most satisfying manner, leaving little or nothing left to desire. I have got to learn to that someday. Until then... Read On!!

Our Nerd Fest

2004-12-05T22:24:00.000+05:30

Hey, sorry, long time, no blog. Had one really strange week. Anyway, it's over, and I got unit tests tomorrow, which, of course, true to my behaviour, I haven't studied for.
On Friday was our first ever Nerd Fest at Deeksha. And it was a collosal failure!! I know I go there and all, but I can't help this - HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
It was the ultimate congregation of all the proudest nerds in the city - and man, even they didn't like it that much. There was the Kumarans contigent, whih was by far th geekiest. And so proud of it too. "Look at me, I encompass all of the knowledge in any text book you show me. I can tell you the distnce from Earth to the Sun, and the DNA constituent of the African Bull Frog, but I can't use common sense to build a torch given a bulb, wires, taape, and a battery pack!" and all this said with great pomp. What total losers.
Then came NPS. No offense to anyone, one of them was my friend an all, but this was the real upsetter - Not even one of the (Two) NPS qualified as one of the final 5 teams! Hmmm... NPS needs to buck up on its mugging techniques.
Then there were a few other schools that came. OK, actually, there were quite a lot. None-the-less, the only thing that went off well was the treasure hunt. It took place after the prelim/elimination round got over, and there was chaos. Just imagine a 1-acre plot nearly completely built up, leaving very little room for recreation, and making you feel rather claustrophobic. Now imagine 120 kids running about it, looking for eight scraps of paper scarcely larger than the thumb on your right hand.
What chaos! And the best part was, I had so much fun encouraging it. Everyone was running about with wierd, rhymin, pentameter clues to figure out, and I just stood in the mmiddle and pretended to not want to give myself away. And then, the instant someone caught me, I'd just send them off on some other tangent which they'd probably come out of after the hunt got over.
The rest of the show, however, was,for lack of a more blurry word, BORING. We just drove forward relentlessly, not caring to take break or anything. The projection system was so ineffective, mainly because it was under a small, badly put up shamiana, and it was boiling. Not to mention the fact that everyone was getting bored to death, because:
a) Points were doled out in 1s and 2s.
b) Because the questions that we(OK, they, not me) had set up were so hard, even the Uber-nerds were finding it hard to get the answers right.

Finally, it ended with the 'Young Inventor' event. I thought of, planned, put together, and organised the entire thing myself(Notice the hint of pride in my, er, voice...?). Here, you were given more than what you need, and you were given a total of 45 minutes to construct a Torchlight, a 2-way switch, and find the focal length of the lenses. OK, so no one expected them to do it in that much time, but jeez, they couldn't even think of a simple solution to the torch!
This just goes to show that no matter how 'good' you are at 'studying', you'll get no where unless you cando something to prove your point. Stupid nerds. During the finale, everyone generally voted that the event was 'irritating' and 'useless'. What total morons. Go squeeze that information out of your head, son. In the near future, they're gonna ban our right to read and refer, so forget the creativity inside you, just MUG! MUG! MUG!
PFFFT. No wonder the world is the way it is...
Orbit my parallel universe! ;-)

Absolute Bllsht

2004-12-01T20:36:00.000+05:30

Everyone's been saying that my behavior is becoming progressively more aggressive after Mona's death. I wonder if the two are related...?
On top of that, no one will sympathize with me. It's always," No, Aveek. {Fill any name here} has his reasons for being such a prick" or "No, Aveek. One day when you grow up you'll appreciate the torture we/he/she/they made you go through" Well, I don't care. They can all go fry in an oven(Hey, wait, that's not right - but then again, this is MY blog, and I have all right to say whatever the hell I want here) for all I care.
Everyone just wants to shower me with advice - advice on how to eat, behave, talk, study, live, and die. And before I know it, they'll be telling me about all their failures, and how I shouldn't make the same mistake. F**k them. IWANT TO MAKE THE MISTAKES, OK? I don't care if you missed the chance to run India Today, or never got to be the world's greatest psychological researcher. I DON'T CARE. Go mope over it in your own room, and don't waste my time with crap that won't help me(Realistically speaking).
Then, I'm banned from using 'Foul' language like 'Suck Up', 'Gaylord', 'Fag'(What the...?! Why??) and a few other things that most take for granted. Why, may I ask? Because my little angel of a sister(B*llsh*t) might get affected. Heck, my sister probably knows more foul language than me(OK, exaggeration, but still, she certainly knows a lot more than just the aforementioned stuff)!
Jeez, this world is not harsh, or vast, or strange. Just stupid.
Plain stupid.

The iMac, and it's (Hypothetical) Problems

2004-11-28T16:30:00.000+05:30

(That's the entire iMac, wires and all. There are 5 external wires. No complicated jungle of overgrown enamelled wire.)

And now to the point:
I need games! And not some cheap games that even I can program on the computer(Yes, and if I can program them, you can imagine justt how cheap I mean). I want games like The Sims, SimCity4000, Evo 4X4, Halo, Delta Force and the like. But no, Aspyr Media has decided not to sell the games in India. WHAT THE SHIT ABOUT THE MILLION ODD MAC. USERS IN THIS COUNTRY, HUH?!
Stupid international policy. As far as I know, almost every game has a Mac variant that is internationally sold. Almost anything from The Sims to Driver to Tony Hawk Pro Skater to Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six has a Mac platform. But they willl not sell it here, will they? Twits. Morons. Idiots. And a host of other light insults.
I gess they are justified, in a sense. The Mac is a brilliant piece of engineering. Way better than Windows, Linux, or any other OS in the market. World-wide, it is highly acclaimed, but in tis country, it's just about catching on, and only really tech-savvy people would have any knowledge of tits capabilities. And if you're that tech-savvy, you probably work on the computer a lot. So, essentially, the Mac (In this country at least) is used as the ultimate work-station. Never crashes. More facilities. More power. Easy-to-use. But at a price - Specifically, Rs. 88,000. Ouch.
But for anyone else in this country, there are so many pre-concieved notions about Windows, that even software firms have had to make plans to seel only products for windows, and more recently, Linux(This OS being programmers choice and all...). So that Looks to be it for Mac. users, who are gonna have to wait quite some time befoe products are introduced for the Mac. X OS.
On top of that, my dad has blamed my games as the reason our old Compaq Presario crashed - ritualistically, once a year. Stupid Windows system. And so, he refuses to buy me any game at all. Cheap-skate. Now what do I do?!

I Got Mona's Pictures!!

2004-11-25T20:52:00.000+05:30

Isn't this a lovely picture of Mona?

I went to her home 5 days ago(When this post was first up, without the photo being displayed..?), to meet her mum. I stayed there for about an hour, and we talked about Mona. About her love for dogs, her cheery persona, her permanent smile, and how she brought so much life to the house. Her mum was saying that she still can't get over her death. That she feels so lonely when she's at home. That Mona always made so much noise at home, and she kept telling her to be quiet so as not to wake up the neighbours, and now how she regrets saying that. How she couldn't really listen to a thing the teachers were saying at the programme held at J.N.C. for Mona. And how she still believes that Mona's just not at home. Out somewhere. Just like I believe that I'm dreaming, even though everyone and everything indicate that I am in fact, in a harsh, painful reality.
Enough of the morbid descriptions though. Dad bought more of this amazing music home. Its like Jazz, or Lounge, or something, but its fantastic! I have learn't to blindly buy any album realeased by the "Higher Octave" Label. Neither Sony, nor Virgin, Nor any other record company has such good taste in music. Every CD that I've ever heard, I've loved. It's just such good music. It extends to a few Gernres, like World, Lounge, Jazz, and the likes, but its the Creme De La Creme of these categories.
Just take my advice(I'm currently not using it) and buy any Album released with the Higher Octave Records label on it.
Verdict: 5 Stars.

The Mathematical existence Of God

2004-11-22T18:39:00.000+05:30

Amidst all this talk about Aethism, God, Religion and so much else that seems to have creeped in, I came accross this very interesting uh, derivation(?!).
In 1970 sometime, Austrian mathematician Kurt Gödel wrote a 'Methematical' 'proof' for the existance of god. It goes something like this:
(Hey, another glitch, the O in Godel is supposed to have 2 dots on top of it... this site doesn't seem to have the capacity for these extra symbols. Please bear with the wierd looknig signs...)

Gödels's Mathematical Proof Of God's Existence

Axiom 1: (Dichotomy) A property is positive if and only if its negation is negative.

Axiom 2: (Closure) A property is positive if it necessarily contains a positive property.

Theorem 1: A positive property is logically consistent (i.e. possibly it has some instance.)

Definition: Something is God-like if and only if it possesses all positive properties.

Axiom 3: Being God-like is a positive property.

Axiom 4: Being a positive property is (logical, hence) necessary.

Definition: A property P is the essence of x if and only if x has P and P is necessarily minimal.

Theorem 2: If x is God-like, then being God-like is the essence of x.

Definition: NE(x): x necessarilt exists if it has an essential property.

Axiom 5: Being NE is God-like.

Theorem 3: Necessarily there is some x such that x is God-like.

Isn't it brilliant?? Though I'm not sure that I got it all, I hink I've pretty clearly understood right till Axiom 5. Most scientists, logicians, mathematicians still can't understand every part of it, so it remains a mystery, but it seems to have a (mystical, yet) strong foundation - don't you think?
I am most compelled to believe in God's existance, but I stand my ground very firmly. This is a brilliant piece to ponder about though(So next time you're asked to host an assembly, you know what to talk about!!).
There are so amny fascinating instances of math being applied(is that right...?) everywhere that the whole world takes an entirely different meaning. It's all part of this book called "Wonder Of Numbers". Admitted the name does not sound most enthralling, but if you see it anywhere, you must blindly pick it up. A must read, if only to raise questions about the very foudation of our mathematics.
Verdict: 5 Stars.

Toothpaste And Grammar

2004-11-16T22:18:00.000+05:30

My dad is simply amazing! Sure, everyone's dad is amazing, but you just gotta look at this one.
There's this post on his site(You can view it by clicking the title - it's a link to the page) on which he talks about the usage of toothpaste, and how you really don't need as much as you probably use.
Sure, you must be thinking, "Yeah, OK. So this guy's dad figured out what's being taught to us in high school. Pssht. Whats the big deal?" The thing is, the entire post(And its a mighty large one) is just ONE SENTENCE!! It's simply brilliant! Even if you copy-and-paste it in word, it will not show up as a gramatical fault. it's pristine!
So I guess Posting(Is that accepted? - The capital 'p' I mean) is as much an art as Painting, or Archery, or Karate.

Dreams

2004-11-14T13:42:00.001+05:30

Dreams really do reflect so many parts of our life (or lack of it), our ambitions, our goals, our whims and fancies. But more importantly, I think that our dreams help us explore parts of our brains that we are completely unable to unlock through the realm of consciousness.
Last night I dreamt of flying, and we were flying in a Lego airplane (That I have designed myself in reality)and that it had an open top('cause my aircraft looks really funny with a hatch as it has to end abruptly). That’s when I started thinking – I snapped away from the rest of my dream and got into this 3-D world where the half finished model was rotating around so I could see all its sides and all – of a way to make another, much better looking and more workable model, something that has not struck me for 3 years in reality even though I have put so much thought into it.
Thee brain is a truly amazing thing. I’m sure that it can take you to places you never imagined possible. So many people have even dreamt of the future - most famous is of course, Nostradamous(Pardon me if its not spelt right) - and predicteed events. People have had out-of-body or Astral projections. I believe that the brain is capable of much more than its restricting 3-Dimentions of the concious world. When they say that we use less than ten percent of our brain, it just fails to strike us just how much more there is to use.
Take, for example, the numbers Googol and GoogolPlex. it is 1 followed by 100 Zeros. Just writing the number makes us think of a huge length of paper. It goes something like this:
10000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000
000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000.
Huge, no? Now, imagine the number GoogolPlex. A GoogolPlex is 1 followed by a GOOGOL NUMBER of zeroes. that does not mean 1 followed by 101 zeroes. that means the value of Googol, like the value of 1 Million. Actually writing 1 million Zeroes after 1. Like that, ACTUALLY WRITING the COUNTING VALUE of a GOOGOL NUMBER of Zeroes.
This concept is not understood by most people on this planet. This includes many highly scientific minds. Yet, this concept has been understood by children in single-digit ages. Just goes to show that we seem to be most productive when young, and that the brain just keeps dieing as we "Mature".
So, use your brains while you're still young, or you'll never be able to regret later!

Mona

2004-11-08T15:47:00.000+05:30

Mona. I just realised that I didn't have any pictures of her at all. The number of times we were with her and never thought of taking pitures. After all, where was she going anyways? Anytime we needed her company we'd just call and we were off to ITPL or to a play or something or the other.
And then it happened. After a late night at a friends house, I was on my way back and for a lark thought I'd sing really loudly to see if I could wake Mona up. With no reply, though, I ended up sleeping by around 3:00 AM. Next morning I get a call from Abhay asking me to come to Mona's place, cause she's passed away. Just like that. I didn't believe it, even after he asked me to get my parents along. It wasn't until I actually got to her lane and saw lots of cars and even more people at Mona's house that I started to believe that something was really wrong.
The closer I came, the more uncomfortable I felt. I refused to believe that something(let alone death) had happened to her. And then it happened. I walked up the driveway I knew what I had been dreading since that call. One look at her dad, and I knew it had happened. I walked into the living room - and got the shock of my life. There was Mona, in the middle of the room, wrapped in a deep blue saari, with a gauze around her jaw. It still refused to strike me, or I refused to accept it.
Shock. Disbelief. Horror. Denial. It still refuses to lodge itself in my factfile. Now I know what they mean when they say "Like A Dream". The whole day just seemed so unreal. So unbelievable, yet so accurate, as if someone was trying very hard to blur the lines between sublime dreams and a harsh reality. Even now I think that I'll just call her up a little later and that I'll tell her what a scary dream I'd had. I've tried everything - from pinching myself, to showering thrice with cold water - just to wake me up from this dream that I sincerely wish that I was in.
She just turned 25 in October. She hadd plans to work really hard, get her own place, get a car, and eventually settle down. She loved the same music I did, and more(I must say, she had really good taste), and now I'm feeeling so bad, cause I promised to give her some tapes she'd been looking for forever. So this is what happens when you postpone things. We never quite got down to doin most of the stuff we planned. So much for our grand plans of when I was legally was allowed to party, or stay out late, or other (nafarious?) activities.
You know about those stories where a guy one day goes to his fathers house(who he hasn't talked to in years), rings the bell, and says,"Dad, I love you." Next day the guy dies. Sure, that strikes a chord in your heart. But it's not until you've actually experienced something like that till you really know how it feels.
Just try and imagine how hard it is to lose a parent or grand-parent. Painful. But hey, you knew their time was coming sooner or later, so there was that cushion to fall on - they had lived their lives, and were heading West now. Then imagine losing your child. What the...?! Where did she go to? You never expected that to happen to you, did you? Imagine the hurt a parent feels when they have to cremate/bury/(which ever custom you follow) their child. Their CHILD. Her mother even remarked,"I never thought I'd touch her when she was this cold." Then imagine losing your friend. And not just any friend. Your really really really close friend. Someone you dearly love. Ouch.
I guess a few more visits to the temple are in order. Maybe, even though I don't believe(Yet?) if she did, then I guess the only way left to reach her would be through the house of God?
I hate the Sandman. What a bad dream this is... Not one thing is going right. Mona dies, then I can't reach her cremation in time, then friends come over and try hopelessly to cheer me up, and finally I fall asleep in my own dream. I wake up the next morning, go to college, break down, come home, write on my blog, and try very hard to forget my dreams. The main problem with this particular dream is that I don't think I'm gonna wake up anytime soon... but when I do, the first thing I'm gonna do is call up everyone I know and tell them just how much they mean to me.

A Visit To The Temple

2004-11-03T20:51:00.000+05:30

A visit to the temple. A routine(If not regular) cycle for the average Indian. Unless you're an aethist. To me, going there is just a waste of time - a bad waste of time. There are so many other, better ways of wasing time than going to a temple to offer money to someone(thing?) that you know does not really need it - especially when it can have American dollars instead! None-the-less, I was firmly(but not forcefully) dragged along to the temple with my parents because "It would do me good.". Yuk. Oh, the time I could have spent playing squash, or surfing the internet... sigh. I never really an affinity for temples, or other places of worship. Idols of our perception and imagination don't exactly charge me up.
This particular visit, however, was a total shocker. When I did go in there,I did feel more calm and composed, and more in control of myself than usual. I jokingly even thought to 'God' - "Hey there - presuming you exist - i hope you know that the stuff bout Heaven and God being just a menifstation of the devil[I'll post that one shortly, along with a mathematical existance of god] an all. You being the 'All Forgiving One' ought to knnow anyways... One more thing, please take care of Dadaji(I know he's up there. No way he coulda reached Hell) and tell him that I miss him terribly. I love him. Thanks mate!" The strange part here is that I actually meant what I said, as if I was really saying it to someone(thing??) and that hopefully he/she/it would ttake notice. It's a strange feeling, especially for someone like me, being very firmly aethist an all. Anyone with a similar experience...? Speak up.

McDonalds

2004-11-01T23:10:00.000+05:30

I finally went to McDonalds at the Foum today - with my parents. Here's a tip - if you've got parents like mine, DON'T GO THERE. They simply hated the place(As did I, so I really don't see why I wrote that.. Hehe...). But what made it really annoying(I seem to have an affinity for "strange" and "annoying", no?) was that while me an my sister waited brushing shoulders with sick sweaty saree wearing women (an men - i think... YUK!!!) my parents were sitting in the Honda listening to jazz. And then when I call them there, they promptly go and grab a table and leave me and my sister(who can be thoroughly incompetent) to carry three trays from the bottom to the top. And, of course, knowing my sister, she dropped all three cokes.
Enough of dissin my family... you guys know I didn't mean it! But yeah, the entire McDonalds excursion was as far waay from "I'm Lovin' It!" as is possible. I mean sure, the guys other side of the counter are nice an all, even when it comes to customers who spit in their faces while ordering(ya, I saw it happen - GROSS!!) but thats not it at all. The portions are so small, they'd make pin-point of light look gigantic. Not to mention the fact that everything tastes just like everything else. Yes, the MahrajaMac tasted just like the CrispyChinese which tasted just like the PaneerWrap which tasted just like the FrenchFries(Minus the extra salt, thank god). And its not like any of the food tasted good. Even KFC(Yes, the same KFC of oil (in)fame) is better. Not even the packaging was in any way appealing. As you unwrapped your "meal", you saw this vast mountain of waste pile up infront of you, anong with the ketchup, which was on the paper mat(cause they forgot to give you a plastic bowl to put it in). There was definitely more wrapping than the food. No wonder so many people around the world are uh, the way they are[ ;-) ]. Especially in countries like The States, where these fast-food places like Burger-King and McDonalds are everywhere, even where there's no telephone or petrol-pump. I'm amazed that with this (lack of) quality McDonalds has become so famous and (GASP!) popular world-wide. Looks like this planet has some really bad taste. I'm definitely never gonna visit McDonalds again - EVA! Not even to see the look of anguish on peoples faces once they realise that they've just been duped by the worlds most popular toll-booth on the road to absolute horizontalness... not to mention brain-sappingness.
Verdict: 1/2 star.

Friends(?)

2004-11-01T13:11:00.000+05:30

Is it just me, or does everyone get bored of their friends after a while(Whatever your definition of 'A While' may be)? I've started getting fed-up with my friends here, and I have absolutely no clue why. I dunno, they jst seem to become annoying after some time. It's raher awkward to talk to them after some thime, cause you don't wanna hurt their feelings, but you still want to tell them to back off. Maybe its the world conspiring against me, because it knows that my friends are essential to me. Maybe I'm setting my expectations too high. Or.... Mabye my friends are just becoming *$^@ing annoying afterall!

Law Vs Justice?

2004-11-01T12:50:00.000+05:30

So I guess that everyone who disses Eminem will have to swallow a few of thier words after all. No matter what pollution he releases into the airwaves, he does tell the truth. Quote:
"Music can alter moods and talk to you.
Well can load a gun for you an cock it too?
Well, if it can, the next time you assault a dude,
Just tell the judge it was my fault and I'll get sued!
See what these kids do is..."

He does have a point. What sort of a law suit is it when a parent accuses a third party of "forcing" their ward to turn miscreant? Jeez, let the poorguy say what he wants to say, thats how he makes his living. It doesn't mean that you lose all sense of judgement an do what he says. This is why I think most American kids(and some adults too) are about the most idiotic people on the planet.
Sure, there may be a few exeptions(there always are), but a majority have no idea whats happening in their own country - let alone the rest of the world. Only 28% of Americans know their national bird - The Bald Eagle. Other claims included The Kangaroo(What The...?!) and Seagull. It's really sursprsing that a nation as ignorant as this holds the world(economically) in its fist. And with the president doing nothing to improve this morbid situation, it will just go on and on until a point where no furthur decay will be possible - I can't wait for that day. At least then someone who has some sense willl (hopefully) be in command.(Any comments on this one, Arjun?)

The Collateral

2004-10-31T19:45:00.000+05:30

Last night I saw "The Collateral"(Tom Cruise, Jamie Foxx). Fascinating movie. It's staged(is that the right word?) in L.A., and focuses on what seems to be another ordinary night shift of a cabbie with great dreams. Most of the movie is shot inside the cab, focussing on conversations and emotions of cabbie Max(Foxx) and his passenger(Cruise).
After dropping off a passenger to her office in west L.A., Max picks up who he's quite sure is a visitor to L.A., who is thouroughly unsatisfied being there. Vincent(Cruise) is running on a tight schedule to "meet some friends", and offers to hire Max after he proves he's more than the average cabbie - getting Vincent to his destination in exactly the time stated by him. Lured by the money - which is about twice what he earns in his night shift - Max takes Vincent to his "friends" house, where, parked in the alley, he recieves a nasty shock. As he munches his wrap, a body crashes on to the top of his taxi, and seconds later an unperturbed Vincent walks back to the cab. Now thoroughly shaken on realising his passenger is a professional hit-man, Max tries to escape, or to get Vincent caught in what is an action packed thriller.
Top-edge graphics render a real feel to the movie, and the shootout between the FBI,LAPD,and two rival gangs in the midst of a crowded night club is about the best scene from any movie since the Matrix. Jamie Foxx takes his charecter to a whole new level, making one believe the entire scnario from beginning to end. Another convincing performance from Tom Cruise, who commands with his physical prescence on the sets and brilliant facial expression, matched with the sharp actions makes Vincent come alive in one's imagination. A must see for any die-hard action fan.- 4 stars.

Women

2004-10-31T19:42:00.000+05:30

I wonder what a hard time Adam must have had around Eve. She must have constantly been nagging him about something or the other, getting him to do what she wouldn't, and then when God got angry at the Humans for eating the apple of knowledge, Eve(who ate it first, remeber?) must have blamed Adam with some excuse or the other, just as long as she wasn't to blame. So much for prostitution being the first occupation.
Practically every woman I know is just permanently blaming me for something or the other - from why the food is an hour late(after she placed the order) to why someone broke up with their boyfrind/girlfriend to why her mum won't let her into the house. Sheesh - girls, give us a break would you? All we want to do is have someone to talk to, not some Hitlerian era(no matter how much we say we'd adore to live in those times). Now, look at it logically, what did we do sitting in the bus coming back from college that forced you not to have any of your chinese food at school(while I was having a test, by the way)?? Or, for that matter, I'm really sorry about that curse I put on that pothole in Indiranagar that I've never seen that gave your car a puncture.
Jeez, you women should just take a Time Out and see how hard you can make life for the opposite sex. I mean, sure, we ask you to be organised, and get us our food on the same day and all, but hey, when was the last time I blamed you for when I failed my test, or broke my favorite wine glass?? Give us a break, OK?

College is crap - absolute crap.

2004-10-29T19:47:00.000+05:30

I HATE COLLEGE.
Its about the most annoying thing on the planet... they are such stingy ^*&#ers.... refuse to give anyone holidays, and then when they do, they overload us with work(not that i did any mind you, its just that at the back of your head you know you'll have to face the music sooner or later...). Everyone goes on and on about how much they enjoy their colleges and how its such an eye opening experience, and that school could never be like this... I object.
Deeksha is worse than any school that I've EVER been to. They have no sense of what a doable amount of work is, a students concentration time period, or how long they should run. We start at 800 in the morning, have 1 and a Half hour classes, and practically no break what-so-ever. They give us 10 minutes for a snack break and then about 20 minutes for lunch.
The strange thing is that they will haul - yes, HAUL - us back in EXACTLY on time, but they will take 5 to 10 minutes extra of each class... which means absolutely no time for us to do anything useful...
DEEKSHA SUCKS!!!
Does any one have any thoughts on this particular topic? Good or bad - what do experience everyday?

Hello Everyone!!

2004-10-29T09:43:00.000+05:30

Hey everyone... I've finally got down to setting up my own blog - main inspiration from my dad... his blog is simply amazing. Erm, I'm not really expecting to get many people to read this, mainly my (ex) classmates from NAFL... so if you've got anything to say, jus contact me...