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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/rss2full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><rss xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" version="2.0"><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8493577879636548530</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Sun, 27 Nov 2011 23:23:07 +0000</lastBuildDate><category>GIRLS</category><category>INDIA</category><category>BEST</category><category>ANIMALS</category><category>ATM</category><category>RELIGION</category><category>BJP</category><category>BLOOD</category><category>LOGICS</category><category>PROGRAMMING</category><category>CARD</category><category>FUNNY</category><category>Ahti Heinla</category><category>ARROGANCE</category><category>DOGS</category><category>Triggr</category><category>HUMANS</category><category>COMPUTERS</category><category>GOD</category><category>lunch</category><title># PIECE OF LIFE #</title><description>SOME ARTICLES MIGHT CONFLICT WHAT I'D WRITTEN EARLIER . IT'S JUST THAT VIEWPOINT CHANGES FROM TIME TO TIME . IN THE END , IT'S THE READER (YOU) WHO DECIDES THE CASE.</description><link>http://kvthevaib.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (vaib)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>15</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/PieceOfLife" /><feedburner:info xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" uri="pieceoflife" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8493577879636548530.post-8163087041522650084</guid><pubDate>Sat, 25 Jun 2011 20:42:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-06-26T03:04:35.497+05:30</atom:updated><title>Home Page in Html5 and knowing a lot about your code style</title><description>So, by the time you read this the homepage would have been hosted. Right now it's just four static web pages and all of it has been done in html5. This new 'draft' standard has introduces a slew of new JavaScript APIs and it has become increasingly important to know and better understand efficient javascript coding practices.&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, the little project was started just because I wanted to dirty my hands with Html5 and it has been worth the little effort that I put in. I learned a lot.&lt;br /&gt;If there are two versions of the home page hosted then it means I have not been lazy in making use of the newer and more b'ful template. As you might have guessed, at the time of writing this post I have not yet made use of the new template. Its just four html pages. How much effort could it be!&lt;br /&gt;So, without any further delay. Here's what I learned -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;There was a lot of code stitching from google and elsewhere. And it's not so much of a bad thing if you learn from it - which I did!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Don't look at my javascript. I mean I've coded so badly. I don't even code so badly at my workplace...lol. I used a lot of global variables even though I could have minimized their usage a lot. There's been repetition of code especially with statements like document.getElementById(). It's simply because I did not follow any design constraints - which is a very bad thing, by the way. There were some more inconsistencies in my code.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Although, I did not do so good I also did not do very bad. I used the new html5 markup, played around with video and audio elements, made a Whiteboard using canvas and localStorage, got to know a lot more browser specific stuff, learned about audio video codecs, container formats, the importance of MIME types, and lots more. I also got to know a lot about CSS and stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have set a solid base for a good javascript know how. I already know what all I can do in my code if I set out to implement stuff like inner functions(scope chaining and stuff) or take advantage of prototypes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;It's extremely important to code in your free time and it's also important to look at the code of other programmers. This is how you can know where you actually stand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I learned that it becomes a blot on your character if you continue to repeat the pattern of starting projects and not finishing them. I had been following this pattern for the past few years. No more. All that rage is coming out in code&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Music is extremely important to code. Food is optional.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The more you code, the more you realize about your insignificance. It keeps you way too humble and down to earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;With the introduction of html5 and it's rampant usage these days, javascript has become the ubiquitous language of the client side and with its introduction to server side programming (node.js), I think it's going to be the language of the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;It's not so easy to write catchy english at 3 am.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;There are a lot of small js apps I want to build and integrate them with the homepage but it's important to ship code minimal code first!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;I also wanted to use Git and a lot more had to be done but I have to wrap up this month with a few more things I have in mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So how did you like the homepage? It's not much. It didn't had to be. It was just a simple learning exercise for html5 but when there were four pages to show I simply hosted them. And in the process I learned a lot about myself, my coding styles, life in general..lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comments?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8493577879636548530-8163087041522650084?l=kvthevaib.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://kvthevaib.blogspot.com/2011/06/home-page-in-html5-and-knowing-lot.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (vaib)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8493577879636548530.post-8728295779849585606</guid><pubDate>Fri, 24 Jun 2011 20:50:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-06-25T02:33:57.705+05:30</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Triggr</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Ahti Heinla</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">lunch</category><title>Triggr and free lunch with Ahti</title><description>So got up a little late on last Saturday morning and there was this event 'Triggr the Product' in sector 65 Noida....I had previously missed 'Triggr the Web' and 'Triggr the Mobile' and I somehow consoled myself that probably they were not good enough. Anyways, it was to start at 9 in the morning and probably it did because by the time we got there it was the first tea break at about 11:30am. Some of the speakers had already spoken and probably left. So we went straight in (Gaurav and Thandi were there with me as well) and had soft drinks, and chips and sandwiches! Good start! Now what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let me just give a brief intro to Triggr. So Triggr is this series of one day tech events done by this Noida based start up called Instamedia. They basically invite developers and start up guys to interact. This way some people may get some interesting opportunities and the start ups are a given a sort of platform to advertise/speak. As for the rest, its all very interesting tech related discussions happening. So its a beautiful way for a developer to spend such a day, say, once in a few months. The thing is that they call really good people for the stage. And since the invitation to this event is by mail invite only, it somehow attracts decent enough crowd, if not the best. But probably the crowd that is interested in doing something otherwise why would anyone (including me) would wake up and go to a tech event on a Saturday morning !!!  -  the person is got to be a techie !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So went downstairs and grabbed our seats. Up came the next speaker. He was an IIT grad and had worked in Adobe for several years and was now employed with Lava, the new Indian mobile company with high ambitions. He talked a lot quality. And about how the problem of branding Lava as a techie's product and not a rural india product was becoming a challenge for the company. It re-iterates the notion of good advertizing as one of the most important factors for the success of a product. Then came up Piyush to speak about his start up Eko - how one will be able to transfer money from one account to another just by pressing a keys on the keypad of the cell phone itself! Brilliant guy. Tax spanner guy spoke. Not all speakers were good but ya, like, most were excellent. It all gave a very deep insight about product building or even how to build a start up!&lt;br /&gt;And in the end spoke Ahti. Now this the guy who built skype. He was the chief architect at skype! Super guy I must say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all gave an insight as to how idea is the single most important thing in the beginning and not the technology or the technique. How important is it to first build a demo or a simple UI and show to users first before beginning the actual coding. This gives you the value proposition as to how much value your product holds as of now. Its important to get early feedback so that you build the right product for your target users rather than build first, then keep on improving. Its important to keep the main thing 'the main thing'. Do not lose yourself in the sidelines. And its very important to ship your code fast and to start advertizing in all ways possible as much as you can right from the first day itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, in all - a super cool experience. Oh and yes, there was free lunch too !!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Came back, struggled with Html5 video and finally it worked fine. Fall back mechanism is not full proof yet but yes it works!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing with this homepage exercise is that I will finish come what may. It's not only a matter of learning html5 or javascript or anything. Finishing what one starts is a mark of character ! It shows persistence and the will to go mad if time demands. It shows your true grit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And anyways, I have to also cut my beard once this thing goes online! Oh and yes, i also have to fix myself a more beautiful version.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way - you can view Triggr stuff here http://www.triggr.in/ &lt;br /&gt;And you can read about Ahti here http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ahti_Heinla&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8493577879636548530-8728295779849585606?l=kvthevaib.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://kvthevaib.blogspot.com/2011/06/triggr-and-free-lunch-with-ahti.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (vaib)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8493577879636548530.post-8145969629127363122</guid><pubDate>Sun, 30 Jan 2011 19:55:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-01-31T02:30:12.480+05:30</atom:updated><title>Little story, short story</title><description>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;She was a girl. I was a boy. I had never met her nor heard her. I only visualized her through the photographs I saw of her. And then one day she called me and her voice was like music. Good music mind you. The kind of music I liked. But then I realized I liked all kinds of music so probably it was a judgement that was getting passed about her voice. But I did not care. All I cared about now was to see her talk. See her lips open and her tongue touch the palate of her mouth while she spoke. And the teeth. Those glorious white teeth like diamonds that were just waiting to be touched. But I could not touch them. So I was sad. But happy in a sad way. Her tongue was so red and her voice was so heavy in a girlish way. I liked voices like that. Voices that weren't like pikachu was given a voice translator. I liked her voice. I would give anything to make her say my name  over and over again. Maybe next time I'll record her voice and sleep with my earphones on. And find myself in a visual ecstasy filled with dancing tongues, frolicking teeth and the background score of her voice. Im happy in this moment to have known her, to have heard her, to have seen her. And I am hopeful that one day that voice will be mine. That not a moment will go by that I won't hear her. That I will anticipate her calls(in a very passive way so as not to disturb my work) just to hear her say my name but till then I am going to put on some funk music and jiggy with it. The end.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8493577879636548530-8145969629127363122?l=kvthevaib.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://kvthevaib.blogspot.com/2011/01/little-story-short-story.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (vaib)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8493577879636548530.post-8395374506044724838</guid><pubDate>Sat, 05 Sep 2009 14:23:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-09-05T20:55:32.968+05:30</atom:updated><title>Tic Tac Toe Board ? Hmmm.....</title><description>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;" Arrange numbers 1 to 9 on a tic tac toe board so that the sum of each row, column and diagonal is 15 "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tic Tac Toe Board ? Hmmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Circa 25th August, 2009.&lt;br /&gt;Not a big deal, one might say. But things happen differently when your mind is occupied someplace else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I switched from a computing problem that I could not solve to this puzzle my mind was actually thinking something else. It was busy trying to extract an algorithm for the computing problem. So things did not quite come naturally when I read &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Tic Toe Board"&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's what I thought - &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hmmm. Tic tac toe board. Hmm. I have definitely heard of this "tic tac toe" earlier. Yes, I have. But it's a board. A tic tac toe board. Hmm. What does a tic tac toe board look like ? Could it be a wooden board ? Hmm. Or is it a cube sort of a thing ? Now how can diagonals run through this cubical board or any board ? I have no idea. Lets move to the next question. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I wrote down there - &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I have no idea what a tic tac board is. Sorry."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having finished with whatever little I had to offer in the test I came out. Just then I was called back into the test room. Mr. Ratra was holding my test paper and he looked at me with puzzled eyes and said, "Vaibhav you don't know what a tic tac toe board is ? ". I confidently said, "No sir". "It's a 3 by 3 board vaibhav. Ok you try again. You have 5 more minutes. " 5 more minutes ? Yes ! Maybe I can somehow solve that computing problem now. But let me first quickly think about this tic tac toe "board" again. I thought and somehow the noun "board" kept the image of a wooden board recurring in my "visual studio". How can diagonals run through a wooden board ? So i again wrote down there - &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Still not getting it. Sorry."&lt;/span&gt; And I went back to my computing problem. But there also I could not have much luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I came out, a guy was sitting ( in formals ) on a sofa. He had also take the test ( like me ) and was probably saddened by the fact that I might have done better than him ( it was an off-campus placement drive dude ) . But I assured him otherwise and then he felt a little better ! By the way, he was a computer science graduate from Australia. "No placements there ?", I asked and he said that they prefer the natives. Hmm. That's some racial abuse I guess. Anyways, I turned to this guy and said, "Dude, by any chance, do you know what a tic tac toe board is ?". And he looked at me surprisingly and said, "You don't know what a tic tac toe board is ? ". I said, "No". He shook his head at the "native" indian stupidity and said to me in "hindi" - &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Kabhi zero katta nahi khela kya ?"&lt;/span&gt; . Pause. Pause. "What the......? ". Pause. "WHAT WAS I THINKING ?", I shouted at myself and he started smiling at me in sympathy. I was so ashamed ! Ya, ashamed with a capital 'A'. The purpose of my visit had changed now. From "get a placement" it had become "save your image". I just wanted to run from there and hide in a corner of the world where people are not aware of things like "tic tac toe" . Then my comments kept haunting me -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I have no idea what a tic tac toe board is. Sorry. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Still not getting it. Sorry."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What would these people think of me ? I didn't know what to think or expect. I would not have been surprised if they had kicked me out with a stern warning - "Never be within 500 metres of this company or we'll shoot you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But none of that happened. These good people somehow figured out that I knew some computers too and took a chance on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dangerous..!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8493577879636548530-8395374506044724838?l=kvthevaib.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://kvthevaib.blogspot.com/2009/09/tic-tac-toe-board-hmmm.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (vaib)</author><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8493577879636548530.post-7470965910160062778</guid><pubDate>Thu, 20 Aug 2009 08:25:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-08-20T17:10:07.253+05:30</atom:updated><title>Hypertension and Madness Follow</title><description>Your heart beat increases even as you are lying down listening to slow, soothing songs. But they make no difference because your brain is thinking something else. Then you suddenly get up - panting - and wipe the sweat off your face and throw away your ipod. Mixed feelings follow - nervousness,  anger, frustration - and helplessness. You grab the pen in sight and start scribbling something on the paper. And then you stop and shout out aloud in your head - WHY ME ? Then you get up and fill the water bottle and drink a lot of icy cold water. Doesn't seem to help. Then you (I mean "I") look around the hostel. You are alone. All the others have gone to work. Unlike you, they are people who "do something" ! Suddenly you feel pathetic. The future 'had' to be bright. You were not meant for this, you dude. But that's how it is today and today you cannot change it. This is the day that you have to live. And this is the effect that rejection can have&lt;br /&gt;                                            &lt;br /&gt;                                                           - &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You can be a writer !&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then anger grips your veins again and you say to yourself, "I will win". That's the residual effect of repeatedly listening to "We gonna win". Ha ! Bryan Adams, I tell you. But this is no joke. Time is slipping out of your hands. Then you begin to reason. Reason always takes over a reasonable mind. But you don't want your mind to be just reasonable anymore. You want it to be mad. "In a moment of madness" is a good topic for Group Discussion, I suppose. And in a moment of madness you say to yourself, "There must be something that can be done. Every problem just sits pretty and waits to be solved". That's it. You're done. You're fed up. You're fired. You're fired up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unconvincingly and without purpose you pick up your pen again and start thinking that maybe someone wants you to be tougher. Someone. You "hope" there is a "someone" who wants you to be tougher. But you don't know if that entity exists. You yourself are the creator of all your problems - this is a fact that you are aware of. Then maybe that "someone" is you only.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escapism is a bad thing. Actually all the fun lies in looking straight into the eyes of your fears. Your fears are your weak points. Achilles heals. And you know that your fears have beaten you many times in the past. You remember those times. Oh how your fears have mercilessly left you to be ignored while others strolled by. Others, they were not better than you, you assume. Look at the most successful person you know. He is fearless - at least in what he does to be successful. That's how it goes. "A person who cannot overcome his weaknesses can never be successful", I overheard someone saying it once. Guess it. Your fears are your weaknesses. Think about it. Who can stop a person who has overcome his fears ? None. A person who beaten his fears goes about his way fearlessly. His actions will show you his strength. When weakness eliminates, only strength remains. Persevere. Yes, persevere. You know a lot, you think. Reason has taken over but a shining metallic element of madness has decided to take room in your brain - permanently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prophecy maybe a good thing sometimes, you think. But speech without action is like heart without blood - lifeless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                It's time to act. It's time !!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8493577879636548530-7470965910160062778?l=kvthevaib.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://kvthevaib.blogspot.com/2009/08/hypertension-and-madness-follow.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (vaib)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8493577879636548530.post-8293005428220903788</guid><pubDate>Thu, 20 Nov 2008 17:47:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-11-20T23:40:39.952+05:30</atom:updated><title>BS PRESENTATION | RAMAYANA</title><description>Ramayana,  in today's times, holds very little relevance and I'll explain that afterwards . Ramayana reminds me of two things . Two unusual things - Mahatama Gandhi and the BJP .&lt;br /&gt;          The father of the nation died dreaming of an ideal state - the Ram Raj where all sections of society would be given the same privileges . And where all religions would be tolerant . But do we have the India he dreamed of ? Ofcourse not . We have all the examples that we need - gujarat riots, maharashtra riots, orissa riots, babri masjid, malegaon, train blasts - if one is outside the house then one is not sure to return . . ...... And do I believe my eyes and my ears when a major political party like the BJP supports hindu extremist organisations like the RSS, VHP and the Bajrangdal . And when the same party promises a Ram Raj to us .&lt;br /&gt;          Ram and the Ramayana have merely been reduced to literature which is why in the beginning I said that Ramayana holds little relevance today . But that sounds pessimistic , right ?&lt;br /&gt;You see its so easy to be an optimist and to have sophisticated intellect and discuss high sounding mstters while sitting in the comfort of our homes . To be an optimist is a great virtue but at the same time one must remain realistic too . Like Sri Ram himself who was optimistic of winning his wife back but at the same time he did not go empty hands to fight the great king Ravana .&lt;br /&gt;          So let's be practical . Ramayana is of little importance in today's times but this is the very reason that we must strive to follow it . We only give importance to something when we lack it . It is high time that we realise the fact that we so much lack the Rama values and let it be the motivation to study Valmiki's Ramayana .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8493577879636548530-8293005428220903788?l=kvthevaib.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://kvthevaib.blogspot.com/2008/11/bs-presentation-ramayana.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (vaib)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8493577879636548530.post-2769971485959818274</guid><pubDate>Tue, 18 Nov 2008 15:37:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-11-18T21:32:29.826+05:30</atom:updated><title>THE TIME AND THE TABLE</title><description>I've made time tables . A lot of 'em . And I've made plans . Quite a lot . Let me not surprise you now - they all failed.....eh miserably . Which is why I began asking myself The Fundamental Question of Reason - &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;why do we plan ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          And let me play the oracle now . We &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;do not &lt;/span&gt;make time tables to wrap up stuff or to schedule our days or to cover up our sinful backlog . We do it &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;so that&lt;/span&gt; we could fool our brains into believing that all is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'OK&lt;/span&gt;' and the power of time management can, in fact, turn things around . And that in the end things will fall in their proper places . But that's alright too . It's human nature to be hopeful .&lt;br /&gt;          No, it's not that time tables and plans &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;just cannot&lt;/span&gt; work . They can . And they &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sometimes&lt;/span&gt; do . But it's just that they require 'not-so-common' qualities like sincerity and diligence .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Punch line - If you make plans then don't expect yourself to follow them unless you are willing to be hell bent and willing to loose sleep and sex and are determined to put your life on the edge and ......... Otherwise, just follow my advise and decide aims and get them or die in the pursuit . Ofcourse, you'll have to sacrifice but aims don't come dry . They have that force.....what do they call it ??? .....Aaah yes !! driving force .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8493577879636548530-2769971485959818274?l=kvthevaib.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://kvthevaib.blogspot.com/2008/11/time-and-table.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (vaib)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8493577879636548530.post-1716264262114933301</guid><pubDate>Sat, 25 Oct 2008 15:58:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-10-25T21:47:05.294+05:30</atom:updated><title>RECTIS CORDE LAETITIA</title><description>Thats the motto of my school . It means &lt;em&gt;Joy to the upright of heart&lt;/em&gt; . For thirteen short years of my school life I wondered - &lt;em&gt;what does it actually mean to me, what is its significance in my life &lt;/em&gt;.  So I could never connect with that mottto . Well, it seems that my school education is still incomplete and as things turn out, I am forced to fill in the blanks now . So here I am in a fix . Call it quarter life crisis if you must but I &lt;em&gt;am &lt;/em&gt;going back to school . Yes, I am having some mental blocks and I am having trouble carrying on my life like this . So I'll keep you guys updated on how I return to myself . And oh yes as to &lt;em&gt;why am I writing this as a blog&lt;/em&gt; is because as I see it, it's going to be a life lesson for one and all .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8493577879636548530-1716264262114933301?l=kvthevaib.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://kvthevaib.blogspot.com/2008/10/rectis-corde-laetitia.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (vaib)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8493577879636548530.post-7810709438432292427</guid><pubDate>Sun, 28 Sep 2008 11:39:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-07-18T16:56:01.145+05:30</atom:updated><title>"A  Dimpy-less  lyfe"</title><description>Anybody who knows about me, knows about Dimpy. It has always been official and always a pleasure. If you find the english childish or lacking in vocab, do not complain. Today I write for her and I know she wouldn't mind- my first love.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Even as tears stop listening to me and cannot be held back, I write. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;"Die , my sweetheart, die. It's time for you to leave. Go now ". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;With such words and eyes ebbing of tears I bid Dimpy farewell. It was 2 am in the morning and I was sitting beside her, with her head resting silently in my lap. Caressing her forehead I somehow knew that this was going to be our last meet. Even though I knew that she had lost most of her audile and vocal abilities along with her eyesight, it was clearly visible on her face that she comprehended my message. After a while I went to bed and cried for a few more moments and never knew when I fell asleep and the next day came back to Noida. This was the last time I loved her. This was the last time we talked. This was the first time we separated .......... never to unite again. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Dear friends and dear foes, Dimpy left this world on 11:45 am on 25th July, 2008  -  four days after our last interaction. Her condition began deteriorating just after I had requested her to die. She ate less, drank less, slept more and became almost bed-ridden - as if she was convinced that the world held nothing more for her. During her last three days she did not take any meals and refused to drink water or milk. My mother just used to wet her tongue with some &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ganga-jal &lt;/span&gt;(water from the holy Ganges). Her end had arrived and she was ready to leave. But maybe there was something, some unfulfilled desire, a last wish or hope that she was waiting for. On the 25th at 11:30 am my father rang me up to inquire whether I was going to come home that day or not ( they did not tell me about Dimpy's condition ). Even though   some voice at the core of my heart told me that I should go, I said &lt;/span&gt;no &lt;/span&gt;to him. This was the last mistake I made in her lifetime. .....she was waiting for me, she wanted me to be with her in her last endeavour. As if she came to know I was not coming, fifteen minutes hence she passed out her last breath . 11:45 am - Dimpy died. A phenomenon ended. A death less ordinary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Dogs don't die easily, they say . A dog's death is like a metaphor for the worst of deaths possible. But no, not Dimpy's death. She died the most silent and peaceful death. She had a beautiful death, just as golden as her life had been. People find it hard to believe but Dimpy was 18 years of age. I do not possess a formal proof for it but she has had been with me since the days she could be picked up by one hand. Since the days she weighed no more than a laptop. I never wanted a troubled end for her. She was having a lot of problems lately. It took her a lot of time to even muster up courage to stand on her feet and sometimes she just could not stand. For the last four years, she was regularly on medicines. Her bones had weakened, eyesight was lost, she hardly uttered anything and could no even hear properly. For such reasons, she had to be kept in chains all the time - something that I strongly disapproved of. She had grown thin and powerless and used to skip meals. These were natural age related problems and I wanted her to leave at the proper time before things went on to be worse for her. After such a wonderful life she had, I did not want see her leaving in pain.  My mother is relieved that she died a perfectly natural death. Dimpy was no less than a daughter in disguise for her. Is my mother ashamed that she loved Dimpy as if she would have loved her own daughter? Not at all. Never. She never pretended to love her. She loved her deeply and would never deny that love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Everybody does not have a best friend. But every dog (or any animal for that matter) is ready to be someone's best friend. I was a best friend to Dimpy. She meant a world to me and still does. 18 yeras is a long time but it seems as if it were yesterday that we were fooling around the house. There are tales to be told and storybooks to be written about the life we shared. Such a life can spark inspiration in anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Circa 1991. I am small and learning how to ride a bicycle. My father is with me and we stop at some neighbour's house. There I see Dimpy for the first time ........she is small too, very small, small enough to be called a pup. But she is quite a handful too. She rivets my attention at once. I always become excited when i see any pup, dog (any animal actually)...even today, although the reasons have changed. We stop there for a moment or two and my eyes remain fixed on her. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;But she ? &lt;/span&gt;Heavens, such attitude !! This was our first interaction. After that I used to go to their house on a regular basis - just for her.  I wanted her, in my deepest desires I wanted her. As elders say, and if there is, indeed, some mechanism that listens to a child's wish on a fast track basis, then I confirm it's existence. I wanted her and after a few months, I had her. The aforementioned neighbour wanted to sell off Dimpy (retards or what ? ). I heard the news. And I &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;knew&lt;/span&gt; my father loved me more than anything else so I explained him in the best possible way all the reasons I could think of for having a dog, all the reasons that an animal-loving small boy could think of at that age ( although today I can write a book on why you must have an animal in your life ). Wow, so great, Dad was on my side. But hey, great love has to overcome great obstacles too - that's my mom. She'd had some unpleasant experiences back at her place with the dogs when she was a kid ( bites and all ) so she was like - " &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;why on earth do we want to raise a dog &lt;/span&gt;? ".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was summer and my mom took me to Gaziabad for vacations. The rest is history. When we came back, Dimpy was already home. I &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;love &lt;/span&gt;my dad for what he did.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;She was a bundle of hyperactive energy ready to explode anytime the chains went loose. In the previous life, Dimpy was called Jackie. Dimpy was given her name by Lovely bhaiya who initially taught me all the &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;dog basics. &lt;/span&gt;Seriously, the initial knowledge I got from him still holds as &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;the fundamental dog basics. &lt;/span&gt;In a few months time she had grown big enough to cause a racket around the place. Whenever she got (accidently) unchained she would run, she would run as if she was in some marathon and she had a gold waiting for her, she would run as if her running would inspire people to drop weapons and love each other, as if she was on a running mission, she would run wild and beastly and with full force and energy, letting her libido loose. An unimaginable force. A lightning bolt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;And with such energy around me how could have I resisted change. She had the ability to turn things upside down, topsy-turvy - and my life was not going to be an exception. But I was satisfied. I had a dog, and that too the one I wanted. I no longer had the will to sleep those "extra" two minutes before getting ready for school. She was the reason - she was the first thing that I wanted to see each morning. You can understand how a small boy can get excited beyond limits. But the passion was here to stay. And it did, for 18 short years. Each morning I got up, the first thing I did was to see her. Back then we lived as a joint family. There were too many people around for her to recognize &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;the one. &lt;/span&gt;Among all the people who took her for walks and who provided her with meals it was difficult for her to estimate my importance in her life. So, she took me as an almost nobody. For her, I was just a curious boy. Nevertheless, I knew things would change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Then we moved to another place where Dimpy started acknowledging me since there were just three people for her this time - myself, mommy and papa. She held mom and dad in high regards. But me ?? Naa. She put me equivalent to herself. A dog has &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;respect levels &lt;/span&gt;in its brain. The first level belongs to the person(s) whom it considers the master(s) ( mom and dad in this case ). The second level belongs to the dog itself and any other person whom the dog thinks is equivalent to itself ( like other dogs .........and me, in this case ). In the third level the dog recognizes relatives and friends whom the dog thinks as mostly harmless. The next level belongs to people whom the dog has the authority to bite at sight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;At home, I always wanted to be in her proximity. It's hard to explain the look in her eyes - full of mischief, ignorance but always full of curiosity. I loved that look. I poured my bagful of toys in front of her so that she could choose the toy she wanted to play with. As (to our horror) we found out later, all she wanted was to chew stuff to bits and pieces. And she did that - with all the things she could lay her teeth on - the curtains, footwear, bedsheets, plastic balls and what not. Her teeth were inexplicably sharp. But it's all a part of growing up. We knew that. It would take volumes to explain all her growing years - dog biscuits, liver tonics, Ostocalcium vet, syringe shots and so on - all that a growing child could be provided for. She was one highly pampered kid in the family. Gradually but convincingly she became the center of distraction in our lives. Barking, running here and there, being able to wreck havoc if things didn't go her way, she could do anything. She always wanted attention. She was not one of those dogs who would curl up in some corner or go beneath the bed and sleep there. She had all the place to herself and with the amount of love she was getting she thought that she was an incarnation of some deity. She always lay in the center of the room, and in the summers never drank non-refrigerated water. In the winters she ate omlettes, boiled eggs, cashew nuts, on a regular basis. I simply loved to see her eat. When I saw her eat, it felt as if I was the one getting filled. Her hunger became my hunger and her thirst became my thirst. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;No words can explain the life we shared. People mostly fail to &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really &lt;/span&gt;understand their pets. The reason - they treat them as pets. I hate this word. Dimpy was never a pet.  She was my first best friend and remains so. It's only when you let them be a part of your life that you really get (the privilege) to unravel them. Just to give you an example how well we understood each other I'd let you know of a really simple game we used to play. I used to take a plastic ball (she knew what I was going to do and become excited but always remained calm) and place it on the floor. Unlike other dogs who would rush to grab the ball she simply used to stand on one side of the ball because she knew that what was to come was more fun. After placing the ball on the floor I used to step back a little. Standing on either side of the ball opposite to each other we had our eyes fixed on it and from time to time we used to look at each other too. Then one of us would initiate the game by moving one step forward towards the ball in a slow motion. The other would respond by doing the same. At all times the two pairs of eyes would remain fixed on the ball. When we reached close enough to the ball, I would move my hands and she would move her mouth towards the ball in a very slow motion. And then suddenly but intentionally one of us would attack the other and all hell would break loose. We would fight each other till we lay exhausted on the floor. The idea was not to grab the ball but to have fun by fighting each other. Rolling on the floor, sometimes one on top of the other, we played our hearts out. In the end I would caress her, she would lick my face and then I would pour water for her and drank some myself too. After that she would rest by my side while I did my school work. Life was simple Life was good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I can write &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;volumes &lt;/span&gt;about such games&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;and incidents that are studded like gems and scattered throughout the fabric of my memory of the time we spent together. But they are not for public scrutiny. They are stuff that I would treasure for this lifetime. She remains forever alive in my heart, in my attitude, thoughts and in the way I still love her. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Things changed when I moved into college life. Another city meant that now was the time we separated. That's when she started getting old. Away from each other, I longed to see her face. When I used to go home and during my project in the vacations she always used to stay and sleep beside my study table in my room. I too would remain in her close proximity - as if we were making up for the lost time. We were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I would have to conclude it now. Day before when I was going to college I saw a lady standing at the roadside. She was caressing a stray dog. The dog was whining as if it had not been loved for ages. Constantly wagging it's tale and moaning in appreciation, the dog made for an emotionally overwhelming sight. The lady, possibly waiting for some bus, felt no shame or insult in loving a stray dog. She had made his day. Something that they both won't forget for a long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Some people use the word 'dog' as a derogatory comment. In India, especially, being an animal enthusiast is not considered a 'very good thing'. Here society demands the person to look &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;neat and tidy. &lt;/span&gt;Essentially, kids are encouraged to stay away from animals. Why, I ask ? Animal Planet's slogan - &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Aakhir animals bhi toh human hain &lt;/span&gt;( even animals are humans ) holds no meaning in this country. For those who think that they are superior to dogs I have something from Mark Twain - &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Heaven goes by favor, if it went by merit, you would stay out and your dog would go in. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Take an animal home. Be it anything - dog, cat, parrot ...anything. If you think that you cannot afford to have a dog(or any animal for that matter) I'd like you to know something - &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;No matter how little money or how fewer possessions you own, having a dog makes you rich. &lt;/span&gt;Contrary to all beliefs, it's not the bread that they are in urgent need of, it is the love that you have been holding back from them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8493577879636548530-7810709438432292427?l=kvthevaib.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://kvthevaib.blogspot.com/2008/09/dimpy-less-lyfe.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (vaib)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8493577879636548530.post-2784186419781714982</guid><pubDate>Sun, 09 Mar 2008 20:29:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-09-29T00:51:11.332+05:30</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">INDIA</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">GOD</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">RELIGION</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">BJP</category><title>BY GOD .</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hvnI0oubCzw/R9pd_aY5q8I/AAAAAAAAABI/z08eg9Lc9Vc/s1600-h/75MCAM9M64XCAQK313OCA188QA1CAQQGKSZCA517LJBCAZ5HE3RCA1USUWUCA5DKAT3CAV3OFDZCA6Q7271CADJ1OS6CA4851DMCAOG6W1BCAHX1CGZCAN0UN51CASL9UMVCAUFA20FCAY7J1Y5CAEX1P73.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177554065612712898" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 43px 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 93px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 133px" height="129" alt="india is burning" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hvnI0oubCzw/R9pd_aY5q8I/AAAAAAAAABI/z08eg9Lc9Vc/s320/75MCAM9M64XCAQK313OCA188QA1CAQQGKSZCA517LJBCAZ5HE3RCA1USUWUCA5DKAT3CAV3OFDZCA6Q7271CADJ1OS6CA4851DMCAOG6W1BCAHX1CGZCAN0UN51CASL9UMVCAUFA20FCAY7J1Y5CAEX1P73.jpg" width="80" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hvnI0oubCzw/R9pd_qY5q-I/AAAAAAAAABY/YxnLngg2E8w/s1600-h/KHECAQJ9HQQCAQJ3C4QCADO6Z3GCAWBBR82CA408XPWCA5VQO9QCANCAT6ZCA4O0J12CA6XCOL6CA57CH98CACMNVVECA7ME4LHCAF3SE3CCAUUV71KCA4IZWWDCA8ERLLPCAWE5NC5CA5FQ9Z2CA6QZWKE.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177554069907680226" style="MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 92px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 143px" height="132" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hvnI0oubCzw/R9pd_qY5q-I/AAAAAAAAABY/YxnLngg2E8w/s320/KHECAQJ9HQQCAQJ3C4QCADO6Z3GCAWBBR82CA408XPWCA5VQO9QCANCAT6ZCA4O0J12CA6XCOL6CA57CH98CACMNVVECA7ME4LHCAF3SE3CCAUUV71KCA4IZWWDCA8ERLLPCAWE5NC5CA5FQ9Z2CA6QZWKE.jpg" width="80" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hvnI0oubCzw/R9peAKY5rAI/AAAAAAAAABo/8nokN1BzBLY/s1600-h/YZ6CAOZ0FRSCACRZMR1CA2BW7OBCAPOOD8HCAGM6SSUCA131C3PCA5NY4ACCAVXZQS7CAPBPFUICAY18P7BCAQZQK8ICA9AC74JCA9JFXSICASS1CFDCAD0UYW9CAYQVEFPCAIYT6U8CAU1NJANCAR860ZN.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177554078497614850" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hvnI0oubCzw/R9peAKY5rAI/AAAAAAAAABo/8nokN1BzBLY/s320/YZ6CAOZ0FRSCACRZMR1CA2BW7OBCAPOOD8HCAGM6SSUCA131C3PCA5NY4ACCAVXZQS7CAPBPFUICAY18P7BCAQZQK8ICA9AC74JCA9JFXSICASS1CFDCAD0UYW9CAYQVEFPCAIYT6U8CAU1NJANCAR860ZN.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is said that no country is as poor as to have only one god . For gods , can be created very cheap . Going by this , India is a very rich country . Rich with all it's gods and all of it's religions .&lt;br /&gt;A very good morning to one and all . Today i present before you some views on a subject that runs in the very heart of this subcontinent . A subject that is both controversial and has the potential to cause irreparable damage if not handled properly . The one key that can make all the nation sit up and listen and take action . Though millions in this country go to sleep empty stomach but they can never afford to sleep on this issue . I talk of - Religion and India .&lt;br /&gt;Religion is something that's regarded true by the people , false by the wise and useful by the rulers . Since times immemorial , this world has been a witness to what religion can make out of men and how it can be used to motivate politics and uproot civilisations . But india has always been a quiet , peace loving country , although religiously awake - all this before the english came . The english brought with them the seeds of communal disharmony and used religion as a blade to cut the veins of trust , brotherhood and unity . Blinded by our religious faith , we allowed them to put us into a deep slumber . Two fifty years down the line we are still not ready to get up .&lt;br /&gt;Even in these times of technology and globalisation , india is a country where religious sentiments are on a rise - even at the stake of nation's progress . I agree that the present generation has a different approach to religion but it will take ages to do a complete turnover of the mindset but by that time many godhra and babri masjid incidents would have happened . Shall we let this land of knowledge and sages burn till that day ?&lt;br /&gt;This country has an opposition that is purely religiously motivated - the BJP . This fact is not hidden from anyone today that Vishwa Hindu Parishad , a close ally of BJP , were responsible for the gujarat mishap . What good is a religion that's bent on destroying national heritage and monuments that are 400 years old - I'm talking of babri masjid and the role played by Bajrang Dal in the same . These are only a few recent instances where religion has shown it's ugly face . There are numerous other examples too - the partition in 1947 , the golden temple issue , '93 blasts in mumbai , the J&amp;amp;K issue.......the list in never ending .&lt;br /&gt;Religions were made to teach the way to reach god . But considering how they have been used , today religion itself challenges the existence of god . I guess religion exists so that men can commit sin and still live without guilt .&lt;br /&gt;The world has been continously plagued by terrorism which is nothing but a religious issue . And as long as we have scars of religious ambitions entrenched in our hearts - no country is safe and no boy or girl innocent .&lt;br /&gt;How can we expect our nation to be a superpower someday when communities here are suppressed on religious grounds . Dr Kalam has aptly said that when a country ceases to think , small minds overpower it . There is only one hope that can address this issue - good education . And it remains our unfulfilled duty towards india to educate the masses about the metaphysics of religion .&lt;br /&gt;In the words of Dalai Lama - " This is my simple religion . There is no need for temples , no need for complicated philosophy . Our own brain , our own heart is our temple , the philosophy is kindness . "&lt;br /&gt;Till then , it remains adversity in diversity here .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8493577879636548530-2784186419781714982?l=kvthevaib.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://kvthevaib.blogspot.com/2008/03/by-god.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (vaib)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hvnI0oubCzw/R9pd_aY5q8I/AAAAAAAAABI/z08eg9Lc9Vc/s72-c/75MCAM9M64XCAQK313OCA188QA1CAQQGKSZCA517LJBCAZ5HE3RCA1USUWUCA5DKAT3CAV3OFDZCA6Q7271CADJ1OS6CA4851DMCAOG6W1BCAHX1CGZCAN0UN51CASL9UMVCAUFA20FCAY7J1Y5CAEX1P73.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8493577879636548530.post-4132133315728114259</guid><pubDate>Sun, 09 Mar 2008 00:44:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-03-14T16:58:35.623+05:30</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">DOGS</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">HUMANS</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">ANIMALS</category><title>PRETENCE....</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hvnI0oubCzw/R9pe_6Y5rBI/AAAAAAAAABw/vQxosIck1Ps/s1600-h/J43CAS1XTPACATTDLR7CAV1C3R6CA2M7XD2CAL4VOHRCAUA4XJYCAE2C4WOCABALVJ6CAHAFYINCADY9KH7CAJT0UWJCABQVG4PCA8SK7QXCAQ3Z03ACAYVST6ACATFC3OLCAUMPGT0CAWIR072CA7TW3TA.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hvnI0oubCzw/R9pe_6Y5rBI/AAAAAAAAABw/vQxosIck1Ps/s320/J43CAS1XTPACATTDLR7CAV1C3R6CA2M7XD2CAL4VOHRCAUA4XJYCAE2C4WOCABALVJ6CAHAFYINCADY9KH7CAJT0UWJCABQVG4PCA8SK7QXCAQ3Z03ACAYVST6ACATFC3OLCAUMPGT0CAWIR072CA7TW3TA.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177555173714275346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know there are a few things about human nature that i dislike most . The foremost thing that i condemn most about this special species on this planet is that they are not animals . Some of their own like to call them social animals . But what the heck ! if they are social , they are not animals . One may ask , "but animals are social, aren't they ?" . No . Wrong . Animals are not social , and for the obvious reasons - they don't have the capability to pretend . As some 19th century poet said , "Pretence is not among my crimes " . And if it were , they wouldn't have been animals and i wouldn't love them . But i do love them . You know why ? , thats again very obvious and sort of recursive in nature - coz they are....animals . They don't pretend . They just can't . People , as most earthlings are called , would like to laugh this out and give a casual remark about their supposed superiority over the Rest . They would chuck , "Animals , well they are stupid , how can they even think of pretending " . Well , that's where the fun and catch lies . All these animals have lil or brain , and thats actually very good . It's precisely because of their lack in this domain that they are Good . If the so-called humans choose to be bad then let it be so . They'll remain good for maintaining the equilibrium .They have lil brains and they are good . It's as simple as that . There's no pretence and i love them a lot . I thrive on those beautiful , ignorant and lost eyes .Pretending not to be lost .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8493577879636548530-4132133315728114259?l=kvthevaib.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://kvthevaib.blogspot.com/2008/03/pretence.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (vaib)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hvnI0oubCzw/R9pe_6Y5rBI/AAAAAAAAABw/vQxosIck1Ps/s72-c/J43CAS1XTPACATTDLR7CAV1C3R6CA2M7XD2CAL4VOHRCAUA4XJYCAE2C4WOCABALVJ6CAHAFYINCADY9KH7CAJT0UWJCABQVG4PCA8SK7QXCAQ3Z03ACAYVST6ACATFC3OLCAUMPGT0CAWIR072CA7TW3TA.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8493577879636548530.post-5870685009598150965</guid><pubDate>Sun, 09 Mar 2008 00:42:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-03-14T16:59:56.137+05:30</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">PROGRAMMING</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">LOGICS</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">COMPUTERS</category><title>HOW IT ALL BEGAN......</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hvnI0oubCzw/R9php6Y5rCI/AAAAAAAAAB4/8NQaj90xpOg/s1600-h/7AECA13TICRCAWS5XS9CA9ODMHRCA37COFVCAAGFWM6CAN9MDATCARLVO9ZCAL5KKQTCAQRFYTICA4O4ZWGCAO399JRCAY2BHBACA0NE399CA1TQFL4CAXQR1L8CAA9UH0YCAIYA3V2CA8G0860CA8PXIU4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hvnI0oubCzw/R9php6Y5rCI/AAAAAAAAAB4/8NQaj90xpOg/s320/7AECA13TICRCAWS5XS9CA9ODMHRCA37COFVCAAGFWM6CAN9MDATCARLVO9ZCAL5KKQTCAQRFYTICA4O4ZWGCAO399JRCAY2BHBACA0NE399CA1TQFL4CAXQR1L8CAA9UH0YCAIYA3V2CA8G0860CA8PXIU4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177558094292036642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Programming - This word has always spelt pleasure for some of us in the classroom . In our 11th and 12th standard science batch it was neither physics nor chemistry or maths that spread the name . It was computer science alone . Precisely , it was pure c++ programming . Mr. Matthew was a great teacher and his junior subordinates had developed a strong foundation for programming and logics in us at a much younger age . If the world was to be driven by computing machines , we knew that we had a livelihood out of it . When i first saw the machine , I was in the third grade . It was almost love at first sight . Those beautiful keys , the most systematically engineered architecture . The monochromatic screen . Suddenly the world was so beautiful . I never really thought that we would see the same cartoon character of the Turtle of the LOGO language as we'd seen in the books . The very first time , as i remember , i laid my hands on that amazing product of science , magic happened - things responded as i touched something on the keyboard . It was an overwhelming experience . I was surely taken aback by all the technological advancements that had taken place while i was not present in this world . But at the same time , i was eclipsed by a sadistic thought , there was so much to learn and there was so much that i didn't understand . Somehow , the word Ph.d. kept coming to my mind . The machine had to be a Ph.d. thingy . A lot of Ph.d.'s must have contributed to it . Did i want to do Ph.d. ?? What the heck !! there was a long way to go . And i was only in the third standard . It was useless to think about Ph.d. at that point of time . But hey , gradually and convincingly , thus began a journey towards literal enlightenment . Programming was the way to go . Thirteen years down the line , I still think that way . Programming for me has evolved or shall i say I've grown to know that it's no child stuff . But yes , it's was great stuff to gift a child . And it remains so . Thirteen years down the line , the atmosphere of programming in my school has grown from ecstasy to thrills . It's a great feeling when you apply your brain for the solution of a computing problem . It's a great feeling to program . Program the compiler , program the code , program this world towards knowledge . I'll let you know something , programming is cyclic in nature . To program , you should know the fundamentals of some programming language but to really understand the fundamentals of any programming language , you must program . There you are , on neither side of the sure . But there's just one thing thats been bestowed upon you right from your birth , that one thing could be your saving carcass of wood in these troubled waters of the programming world . That one thing is nothing but logic . You were born with it and thats what you can hone no end . Hone your logics . Hone your programming skills.Happy reasoning .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8493577879636548530-5870685009598150965?l=kvthevaib.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://kvthevaib.blogspot.com/2008/03/how-it-all-began.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (vaib)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hvnI0oubCzw/R9php6Y5rCI/AAAAAAAAAB4/8NQaj90xpOg/s72-c/7AECA13TICRCAWS5XS9CA9ODMHRCA37COFVCAAGFWM6CAN9MDATCARLVO9ZCAL5KKQTCAQRFYTICA4O4ZWGCAO399JRCAY2BHBACA0NE399CA1TQFL4CAXQR1L8CAA9UH0YCAIYA3V2CA8G0860CA8PXIU4.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8493577879636548530.post-8887135757894439716</guid><pubDate>Sun, 09 Mar 2008 00:40:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-03-14T17:06:03.260+05:30</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">CARD</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">ATM</category><title>"YOUR CARD WAS NOT INSERTED PROPERPLY , PLEASE INSERT YOUR CARD AGAIN"</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hvnI0oubCzw/R9pjFqY5rDI/AAAAAAAAACA/9ccORKAtuAg/s1600-h/R7VCA68XQEXCAU30ICPCAR9HXHNCA05GM9NCA0QSD5BCA4IC0GXCAQ92Z27CA1VDU66CA3ENEE1CAS781VQCAFUDNYCCAI8J8PACA6TKRI6CANVWFT4CATRE6N4CAMM0Z8ACA8AY3LICAWJF2PNCAMNHH5I.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hvnI0oubCzw/R9pjFqY5rDI/AAAAAAAAACA/9ccORKAtuAg/s320/R7VCA68XQEXCAU30ICPCAR9HXHNCA05GM9NCA0QSD5BCA4IC0GXCAQ92Z27CA1VDU66CA3ENEE1CAS781VQCAFUDNYCCAI8J8PACA6TKRI6CANVWFT4CATRE6N4CAMM0Z8ACA8AY3LICAWJF2PNCAMNHH5I.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177559670545034290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not a friendly message to read aloud at an ATM when there is a long queue of "money-minded" people waiting outside to insert their friendly ATM cards.But it was happening . There I was , standing in a not so roomy room with broken down air conditioning and shouting aloud the message , but silently . You see , I didn't want to disturb the tranquility of the not so roomy room . When I had inserted the card for about six times or so , the crowd outside began to show its presence by knocking on the glass pane of the door . When they had knocked for about six times or so and when i thought i had been inside for long enough , I relented to their appeals and chose to step out . Stepped out , met strange looks and grim faces . I thought they were going to eat me with their eyes or sumthin . But just then I realised that it was a democracy and it was not allowed for a person to eat another person just like that . And for a crime that was too small to be even registered . So I heaved a sigh of relief and quietly joined the queue , of course , at the end .In this manner , I visited the not so roomy room ( with broke air conditioning ) three times and inserted my card ( bending it like this and bending it like that ) six times or so , in each of my turn , six times or so they knocked the door and I would again go back at the end of the queue .It was a Monday and i don't know what made the people believe that it was the best day for taking out the money , as if the ATM's around the world would go out of order the very next day. I wondered what made them so "money-minded" . I came very close to success when during one of my three trials I managed to get a mini statement of the balance but just as I tried to get the money , it displayed the "message of the day" again . It was getting late , I was hungry , had to buy a book , was exhausted ( injury loves melody , they say ) and was in no mood to go for a fourth trial . So I remembered a phrase and did the needful - "When the going gets tough , I stop going" .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8493577879636548530-8887135757894439716?l=kvthevaib.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://kvthevaib.blogspot.com/2008/03/your-card-was-not-inserted-properply.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (vaib)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hvnI0oubCzw/R9pjFqY5rDI/AAAAAAAAACA/9ccORKAtuAg/s72-c/R7VCA68XQEXCAU30ICPCAR9HXHNCA05GM9NCA0QSD5BCA4IC0GXCAQ92Z27CA1VDU66CA3ENEE1CAS781VQCAFUDNYCCAI8J8PACA6TKRI6CANVWFT4CATRE6N4CAMM0Z8ACA8AY3LICAWJF2PNCAMNHH5I.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8493577879636548530.post-7764275131346855360</guid><pubDate>Sun, 09 Mar 2008 00:37:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-03-14T17:09:39.387+05:30</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">GIRLS</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">FUNNY</category><title>SEE WHAT GIRLS CAN DO ....</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hvnI0oubCzw/R9pj8KY5rEI/AAAAAAAAACI/NdqmlcLwNPE/s1600-h/R7VCA68XQEXCAU30ICPCAR9HXHNCA05GM9NCA0QSD5BCA4IC0GXCAQ92Z27CA1VDU66CA3ENEE1CAS781VQCAFUDNYCCAI8J8PACA6TKRI6CANVWFT4CATRE6N4CAMM0Z8ACA8AY3LICAWJF2PNCAMNHH5I.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hvnI0oubCzw/R9pj8KY5rEI/AAAAAAAAACI/NdqmlcLwNPE/s400/R7VCA68XQEXCAU30ICPCAR9HXHNCA05GM9NCA0QSD5BCA4IC0GXCAQ92Z27CA1VDU66CA3ENEE1CAS781VQCAFUDNYCCAI8J8PACA6TKRI6CANVWFT4CATRE6N4CAMM0Z8ACA8AY3LICAWJF2PNCAMNHH5I.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177560606847904834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dialogue analysis :&lt;br /&gt;"Excuse me" , said I (presumably in a manly voice) , "are these two chairs vacant" . "Yes" , they said . "They were three . All girls . Perfect combination of great bods and useless talks . So we sat beside them . You see , we have a problem here in our beloved college which we happily call Amity - we have few students but fewer cafeterias . Actually , we have the fewest cafeterias and maximum students (hehe...students ??) in the country . So that makes things pretty jammed and crowdy at eating points . But I wonder where do all the students go when it comes to the classes ? (hehe...classes ??)After a while , it was time to go and serve ourselves some chunk of lunch . So we needed somebody to keep our seats for us . And again I turned to the threesome . "Could you please , kuj you just" . Kuj you ? What's happened to my angrezi . Try again . This time with a smile , "kud you please keep these two....umm" . WHAT ? What's going on , I wonder . Take a breath . Calm down vaibhav . And speak in style this time ."Kud you please keep jeesh jairsh for us for 5 minutes""Sure" , one of them said . Smiling at my inability to smile this time . Ah ! , finally the drill is over and done with . Surprised at what girls can do to your english , I stepped away for some lunch munching .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8493577879636548530-7764275131346855360?l=kvthevaib.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://kvthevaib.blogspot.com/2008/03/see-what-girls-can-do.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (vaib)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hvnI0oubCzw/R9pj8KY5rEI/AAAAAAAAACI/NdqmlcLwNPE/s72-c/R7VCA68XQEXCAU30ICPCAR9HXHNCA05GM9NCA0QSD5BCA4IC0GXCAQ92Z27CA1VDU66CA3ENEE1CAS781VQCAFUDNYCCAI8J8PACA6TKRI6CANVWFT4CATRE6N4CAMM0Z8ACA8AY3LICAWJF2PNCAMNHH5I.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8493577879636548530.post-2298194004847989530</guid><pubDate>Sat, 08 Mar 2008 23:38:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2008-09-29T14:00:22.831+05:30</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">ARROGANCE</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">BLOOD</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">BEST</category><title>RATATOUILLE</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hvnI0oubCzw/R9plpqY5rFI/AAAAAAAAACQ/z-g2_NvqTuQ/s1600-h/G5FCAKZR08XCAG9Y5GQCA1JEJ2ECA8P5J5SCA772YJWCAG2EVPACA0ZCOWVCAZ146P7CA3UVVWBCA0KK3QFCAYIPM16CAM4JGQICAWD5FDICAUDLQEPCA453BW8CAJU8DSMCAR2QWE6CA6HLDBPCA68JXH4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px;  cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hvnI0oubCzw/R9plpqY5rFI/AAAAAAAAACQ/z-g2_NvqTuQ/s400/G5FCAKZR08XCAG9Y5GQCA1JEJ2ECA8P5J5SCA772YJWCAG2EVPACA0ZCOWVCAZ146P7CA3UVVWBCA0KK3QFCAYIPM16CAM4JGQICAWD5FDICAUDLQEPCA453BW8CAJU8DSMCAR2QWE6CA6HLDBPCA68JXH4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177562488043580498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hvnI0oubCzw/R9plp6Y5rGI/AAAAAAAAACY/F7CFDc-hEQU/s1600-h/WAFCA3LT8OGCAQEWWFGCAYEBRU3CAJ3XR1RCA0FCQQQCA3L788WCAKLBOLHCAD2R0KFCAGWDM1ECA1CTMQ2CAXEDAEFCAB1P3XPCASQAOKRCAU4IGQ5CASX939WCAOK88B1CACTQMI2CAUKHM9ZCAFCB52B.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: -40px 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hvnI0oubCzw/R9plp6Y5rGI/AAAAAAAAACY/F7CFDc-hEQU/s400/WAFCA3LT8OGCAQEWWFGCAYEBRU3CAJ3XR1RCA0FCQQQCA3L788WCAKLBOLHCAD2R0KFCAGWDM1ECA1CTMQ2CAXEDAEFCAB1P3XPCASQAOKRCAU4IGQ5CASX939WCAOK88B1CACTQMI2CAUKHM9ZCAFCB52B.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177562492338547810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It so happened in an animation movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  If a mouse can become the greatest chef of all times and if the son of the greatest chef can be a garbage boy in the same restaurant , then is there anything that's not possible in this otherwise seemingly sane world ? Nothing...i guess .&lt;br /&gt;  And mind you this is not a movie review . I'm talking about stuff that people (can) do .&lt;br /&gt;  I was in a fix some days back . We are surrounded by oh-so-good-looking and oh-so-nice-and-humble people around us . It's so obvious . The whole idea (or conspiracy) of education is to make 'good' guys , 'sweet' people , 'happy' and 'content' people , people who are basically full of shit . So how would it feel to be bad . No , i mean really , real bad . How would it really feel to know and not be pretentious about the fact that one is not good . There are 'vaibhavian' categories of bad people - people who marry and let their wives sleep elsewhere are bad , people who don't like animals are bad , people who think that organic chemistry and computer science do not match are bad and yes , people who are arrogant are bad since those who are not humble defy all the other 'virtues' and no , people who hurt others or cheat or are cunning are not considered bad since they do not qualify to be 'people' . They are inhumans . We talk of humans here . Among this breed , arrogance is a sure shot and overnight transformation procedure to hit badville . So how does it feel to be arrogant , i ask . What is the price of arrogance ?&lt;br /&gt;  Well , it seems , after much pondering and researching the bibles for the routes to the dimly lit streets less taken that being arrogant is no child's play . And without slightest iota of doubt , it's way too easy to be humble . Anyone can be humble but only a few , only the tough and only the courageous qualify to remain arrogant . At this point , it's important to note that it's easy to choose to be arrogant but extremely difficult to remain so .&lt;br /&gt;  Just come to think of it and one would realize what arrogant guys have to face . With each passing day , they taste blood . They are self proclaimed masters of their fields which means they just cannot let anyone else to know more than what they know . For this to happen , they have to remain on the bleeding edge of their field of command . They have to know more than the others and that too as soon as possible . True arrogants are also true workaholics . As a result of their arrogance they have to confront the anger of the normals who try their balls out to beat them . The regular people look at them with envy and never loose a chance to see them fall . The world wants to see them on their knees and beg for forgiveness . Being an arrogant is a highly unstable designation , the others just need one chance , that one weak moment to force surrender . But believe me , true arrogants have no weaknesses but many fears . They sacrifice everything to be the best in their chosen fields . The most knowledgeable humble guy is always less informed than the least (but certainly) arrogant guy belonging to the same domain .&lt;br /&gt;  So now we know the price of being arrogant - it means to be a nerd , a freak of the chosen field of mastery . It means to remain on the slippery edge of knowledge . To do something that only the best can do means to let life go by while you watch . In actuality , their work is their life . They don't need smiles and jokes to be happy . Happiness for them means surpassing perfection and reach those limits that people can even dream of . Nobody can deny to face competition . There are three kinds of people in this world - those who compete because they have to (they are called normals) , those who remain above competition (they are called toppers) and then there are those who threaten the competition (they are called the arrogants) . Some famous arrogants for a reminder - Albert Einstein , Thomas Edison , Adolf Hitler , Napoleon , Richard Branson , Vijay Mallya , Mohammad Ali.....&lt;br /&gt;  Ambition and fame is what they thrive on . They may even go without food and water while doing their stuff . They cross the human limitations of hunger and thirst to remain the best of the best .&lt;br /&gt; To be arrogant means to play god . To be arrogant means to hold the head high and say - "do what you can you lesser mortals , i will not be stopped or ignored , i choose to be bad , i am a wild horse and free to gallop in the fields of free will and unmasked behaviour" . It takes takes guts of steel to be arrogant and remain so . Fortunately , the human race has the potential of unbelievable proportions and intensity but unfotunately , only a few daring choose to unleash it . Only a few choose to be arrogants , to be gods . What are you - a mere human ?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8493577879636548530-2298194004847989530?l=kvthevaib.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://kvthevaib.blogspot.com/2008/03/ratatouille.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (vaib)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hvnI0oubCzw/R9plpqY5rFI/AAAAAAAAACQ/z-g2_NvqTuQ/s72-c/G5FCAKZR08XCAG9Y5GQCA1JEJ2ECA8P5J5SCA772YJWCAG2EVPACA0ZCOWVCAZ146P7CA3UVVWBCA0KK3QFCAYIPM16CAM4JGQICAWD5FDICAUDLQEPCA453BW8CAJU8DSMCAR2QWE6CA6HLDBPCA68JXH4.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total></item></channel></rss>

