....A journey to absurdity....

Bal diwas!

2008-11-13T12:09:00.003+05:30

Like in a dead conversation where you wouldn't mind breaking the silence even with the worst of jokes, I would like to break the silence here with an Uber-bad joke:

Q> What was the name of Pavarotti's mistress??
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A> Missi-roti

Go on, kill me.

Inquilab zindabad!!! :D

अनेकता में एकता

2008-06-13T14:35:00.003+05:30

Imagine!

If amongst the 365 days that we spend bickering, sabre-rattling, haranguing, wounding and killing each other around the world, we select one day to remember our one-ness..

If we realise that those petty plots of the most prized possession of humans, land, is nothing but one large living entity with a mind of its own...

If we digest the simple fact that long before we humans were here, this planet was one and hopefully by the time we are done, it shall remain the same...

If we don't feel the need spend so much of our intelligence, our creativity, our passion and our toil on competing with others who are our own.

Forget just your neighbours. Imagine, if the whole world was one!

I am unable to imagine beyond a point.
I am unable to dream what seems unachievable.

But, I am ready to try.

It started with Pangea. It shall end with the same.

The video is that of Kenyans singing the Indian national Anthem to mark Pangea Day. There are other similar renditions (as related videos).

It sounds anything but discordant to me, the sounds of one-ness.

Pangea day is a phenomenal concept. Understand it. I have just begun to try.

Oh no you don't!

2008-06-01T00:26:00.000+05:30

10 Months is more than enough, don't you think?

Quarter back

2007-07-27T16:55:00.000+05:30

Let's hurry up, shall we?
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Relax.

Best-est medicine

2007-07-05T10:36:00.000+05:30

C&H; 03-03-91

Quarter-Life crisis

2007-05-18T13:25:00.000+05:30

Picked from Iyer's blog who took it up from some other place.

All you 18-40(?) year olds, read.

It is when you stop going along with the crowd and start realizing that there are many things about yourself that you didn't know and may not like. You start feeling insecure and wonder where you will be in a year or two, but then get scared because you barely know where you are now.

You start realizing that people are selfish and that, maybe, those friends that you thought you were so close to aren't exactly the greatest people you have ever met, and the people you have lost touch with are some of the most important ones. What you don't recognize is that they are realizing that too, and aren't really cold, catty, mean or insincere, but that they are as confused as you.

You look at your job; and it is not even close to what you thought you would be doing, or maybe you are looking for a job and realizing that you are going to have to start at the bottom and that scares you.

Your opinions have gotten stronger. You see what others are doing and find yourself judging more than usual because suddenly you realize that you have certain boundaries in your life and are constantly adding things to your list of what is acceptable and what isn't. One minute, you are insecure and then the next, secure.

You laugh and cry with the greatest force of your life. You feel alone and scared and confused. Suddenly, change is the enemy and you try and cling on to the past with dear life, but soon realize that the past is drifting further and further away, and there is nothing to do but stay where you are or move forward.

You get your heart broken and wonder how someone you loved could do such damage to you. Or you lie in bed and wonder why you can't meet anyone decent enough that you want to get to know better. Or maybe you love someone but love someone else too and cannot figure out why you're doing this because you know that you aren't a bad person. One night stands and random hook ups start to look cheap. Getting wasted and acting like an idiot starts to look pathetic. You go through the same emotions and questions over and over, and talk with your friends about the same topics because you cannot seem to make a decision. You worry about loans, money, the future and making a life for yourself... and while winning the race would be great, right now you'd just like to be a contender.

We call it the "Quarter-life Crisis."

Haste

2007-04-27T21:17:00.000+05:30

She's all growing up.

And I can't be there to see it.

Opportunities, Globalisation, Distances, Money, Opportunities

Nuovo Rosa

2007-04-09T15:33:00.000+05:30

Hear ye Hear ye,

Could there BE a worse representation of love than a Rose? Although they are pretty, they remain so only as long as one is careful enough to keep it in water and a pretty vase. And even then, eventually in a week or two, they shall die and wilt away. And there is absolutely nothing else you can do with a rose other than display it or keep a wilted one as a bookmark.

What does this say for a person gifting it to his beloved? Something like:

"My feelings for you can never be permanent even if you put in the best of efforts."

"I put up with you only because you are as pretty as this flower."

"You are but a trophy to show off or at best, a great source of nostalgia"

It represents one's love as transitional, based on superficial looks and selfish.

A conundrum, isn't it? Fear not, Fear not. I have a way out.

A potato.

Yes, A potato. A potato just left in a sack, survives for long. Also before starting to rot, gives birth to more sprouts and thereby continues the circle of life. It eventually will survive longer than Osama Bin Laden under the (metaphorical) bombardment of arrogance. You can't get rid of a potato unless you make jeera aaloo or fries out of it, which is possible even if the shoots are sprouting all around (This author is testament to that fact). A Potato is often quite ugly and what is astounding is the great potential it carries within. Other than it being an obvious edible target, a boiled potato is still used by Indian railways to stick reservation charts to the walls and by the geekier kind to make a battery. From the exterior, it might seem to be the ugliest thing next to my landlord, but any hostel cook would swear by its versatility.

What does the gift of a potato say?

"I'll love you forever for who you are. Not only due to your looks , not to put you on a pedestal as a showpiece, not to just smell and look at but to actually get involved with you in almost all aspects of life. You are the person with whom I want to continue the circle of life. "

So, Ladies and Gentlemen, next time...

Gift a potato. Not a bloody rose!

Wordly Cup

2007-03-30T15:00:00.000+05:30

I like this world cup venue.

I like the audience too.

I can't stop thanking the cameramen!

:D

Bhordly Bhise...

2007-03-14T10:27:00.000+05:30

So I began:

Late to bed and Early to rise,
makes a man squirmy, sulky and riled.

Then my PJ protege added:

Late to bed and Early to rise,
more one fails, the less one tries.

The yield of a chat between me and Sandy (now onwards its a state of constant flux):

Late to bed and Early to rise,
all day in office he just sits and cries.

Late to bed and Early to rise,
day-in and day-out he just sits and whines.

Late to bed and Early to rise,
all day in office he doodles strange signs.

Late to bed and Early to rise,
day-in and day-out gulps bottles of wine.

And the bottomline:

Late to bed and Early to rise,
is story eternal, thine and mine.

I LOVE the fact that we get paid to do this!!! :D :D :D

Baby steps..

2007-03-10T17:30:00.000+05:30

What makes people ask babies to just walk and not run? What makes them express surprise when the baby suddenly wobbles and runs or jumps, in imitation of the giants around it?

I started to write and realised that there is nothing I can say here that can make any difference. No more cribbing.

Acta non Verba

My Scream.

2007-02-26T15:28:00.000+05:30

Scream by Munch

My Scream by Me.

My work joy-trip.

2007-02-26T11:50:00.000+05:30

Well, I do have an excuse. The map above explains. Pink are routes travelled once upon. Green are the routes I had a return trip on. And Blue dots are the places I've been to (No mood to name each one of them). Total travel comes to about 6500 KMs. 12 places in 25 days.

Had fun. :)

And ya, , I worked too... I think... Maybe... I guess..... Did I?

So, What are your plans for........

2006-12-30T10:36:00.000+05:30

Its just another month-end. What's the bloody big deal? Eh?

Go home. Sleep. Wake up. Its just another day!

Tarot

2006-12-27T16:20:00.000+05:30

You are the Hanged Man

Self-sacrifice, Sacrifice, Devotion, Bound.

With the Hanged man there is often a sense of fatalism, waiting for something to happen. Or a fear of
loss from a situation, rather than gain.

The Hanged Man is perhaps the most fascinating card in the deck. It reflects the story of Odin who offered himself as a sacrifice in order to gain knowledge. Hanging from the world tree, wounded by a spear, given no bread or mead, he hung for nine days. On the last day, he saw on the ground runes that had fallen from the tree, understood their meaning, and, coming down, scooped them up for his own. All knowledge is to be found in these runes.

The Hanged Man, in similar fashion, is a card about suspension, not life or death. It signifies selflessness, sacrifice and prophecy. You make yourself vulnerable and in doing so, gain illumination. You see the world differently, with almost mystical insights.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

Yeah Right!!! :))

Sultans of swing

2006-12-26T17:00:00.000+05:30

And a crowd of young boys theyre fooling around in the corner
Drunk and dressed in their best brown baggies & their platform soles
They dont give a damn about any trumpet playing band
It aint what they call rock and roll
And the sultans played creole

It is very scary to let go. Let go of something you didn't realise to be an extrinsic part of your life. But some wiseguy (wise-ass?) said: "If you love something, then let it be." ... Or something like that. Maybe I am just plain cynical. Maybe I am not positive enough. Maybe I am too pragmatic. But whatever the case, I belive that , the solution lies in the above statement.

Remember the old man and the butterfly's cocoon? Everyone has their own cocoon. Some break out. Some are reluctant. Some are way too vigorous. Some... just die in their cocoons. Never make it out. But each one who makes it out, albiet at different level of enthusiasm, has its own unique beauty. A vivid mesmerising pattern of colours and hues. Some flit around together. Some go in search for nectar all alone. Some just go on to a whole new forest. This isn't something to be sad about or overtly happy about. Its just something that happens.

And there is the account of the hanging of three men, and a scuba diver, and a suicide. There are stories of coincidence and chance, and intersections and strange things told, and which is which and who only knows? And we generally say, "Well, if that was in a movie, I wouldn't believe it." Someone's so-and-so met someone else's so-and-so and so on. And it is in the humble opinion of this narrator that strange things happen all the time. And so it goes, and so it goes. And the book says, "We may be through with the past, but the past ain't through with us."

These things happen all the time. Its just big when they happen to you or around you.

The tighter you close your fist, the faster the sand slips out.

Let go.

And then the man he steps right up to the microphone
And says at last just as the time bell rings
thank you goodnight now its time to go home
And he makes it fast with one more thing
we were the sultans of swing

Careful.

2006-12-20T15:17:00.000+05:30

Be very VERY very VERY very VERY V-E-R-Y careful what you wish for.

You might actually get it.

Btw, Did I remind you to be very careful what you wish for?

PJ updates

2006-11-25T23:34:00.000+05:30

Two noteworthy ones.

This is an Original:

Q> While landing in which country, are your flights ALWAYS bound to be late?

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A> Qatar .... (Aaap Qatar mein hain, kripiya pratiksha keejiye) :D :D :D

This is heard elsewhere and properly reframed:

Q> Who was the first Indian woman to fly abroad?
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A> Mrs. Sita Ramachandra ;-)

Deadly no? Me thinks so too... :D :D :D

Mostly harmless, Huh?

2006-11-18T03:17:00.000+05:30

In the beginning the Universe was created.

This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move.

Ka-Ching!!!

2006-11-08T21:20:00.000+05:30

Clean shaven. Red and Black are the colours. Sharp. Capped. Has 3 Shiny golden paper stars pinned on his chest. There is a place for a fourth.

Rugged. Facial hair bordering between a stuble and full-blown beard. A kurta which was once white and had buttons. One sleeve rolled up showing a black thread holding a tiny brass cylinder wrapped around the arm.

Good evening sir, How may I help you?

Boliye saahab... kya lenge?

Hmmm ... *squints at the bright candy-coloured menus* ... One McVeggie burger please..

Hmmm ... *grimaces for effect* ... Hmmmm.... Bhindi kaise diya?

Would like extra cheese and lettuce with it? Medium fries or large?

Leejiye saab... Bahut badhiya hai... *snaps the end* ... ekdum taaza hai... leejiye?

I'll take the extra cheese and lettuce, no fries please.

Haan haan... Theek hai... Kaisa diya??

That will be Rs.62 please.

12 rupaiah ka aadha kilo hai saab... bilkul badhiya hai... kitna doon?

Hmmm... *ogles at more of the graphics* Can I have a strawberry milkshake with that, please?

Kis baat ka 12 rupaiah bol rahe ho yaar? Purana maal hai bilul... Chalo... Aadha kilo daal do. Ek kheera, Do nimbu aur thoda dania-kadipatha bhi de dena.

Sure sir, That will be Rs.108. Will that be all sir?

Haan saab, mein nikalta hoon saab... Ekdum badhiya.

Yes, Thank you.

Arre re ruko... Mein khud nikal leta hoon.

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Sir, your order. One McVeggie burger. Extra Cheese and lettuce. One straberry milkshake.

Leejiye saab. 19 rupaiah hua.

Thanks. I don't have change. Can u break a 500 please?

19 rupaiah?? Kiska ??? 16 rupaiah mein kar do sab. Masala ka thodi koi paisa leta hai?

Sure sir. Do you have 3 rupees?

Arre saab... 12 ka bhindi. 3 ka kheera. 3 rupaiah Nimbu aur Ek rupaiah Masala ka.

Sure. Here.

Arre kuch nahi... 16 rupaiah mein kar do sab. Yeh lo 10... aur yeh 5 aur Yeh 1. Ho gaya 16.

Here's your change. 392 Rupees. Thank you for coming to McDonald's. Have a nice meal.

Deejiye... Leejiye sabzi.

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I realised I was being the confused bourgeois through and through. Aren't our perspectives misplaced? Highly skewed? We silently endure the facade. But we not only ignore, we exploit the reality.

"All men are born equal"... Yeah right! Try telling that without any guilt deep within.

Give me justice...

2006-10-18T02:11:00.000+05:30

I really am offended today. I feel that there is no justice in this world anymore. It is a sad sad day in the history of the world of blogs, my dear friends... A sad sad day.

The reason is THIS.

Go visit it first.

Have you seen the photos of the flowers? Those blue bonnety flowers? What about the loooongg list of ingredients for all those recipes? and the Photos that taunt you if you are a poor hungry soul gawking at them at the middle of the night. I am sure these must not be revolting to you. On the contrary, any of the fairer sex out there might have quite enjoyed the flowers. And the desis abound would be copy-pasting those recipes (if they have the taste). Which is why I repeat again... Give me justice!!!

For, ladies and gentlemen, that very blog belongs to my loving , caring, doting elder sister. "Oh really? How nice yaar!" "Abe, Didi ka blog hai... sahi hai be..." ... Arrgghhh...

I spend over a year carefully manipulating and scheming on my blog. A selective assortment of posts interspersed with humour, memories and of course some sensitive moments (According to m, this should be more often). I scheme and plot, design and deploy, ponder and write... I even design (proudly so!) my own blog template with Fantabulous Calvin and the Incorrigble Hobbes as the theme characters (A duo that everyone loves to love). By doing all this jugglery and trickery, I manage to garner a select group of readers (thank you guys! **sniff sniff**) and somehow make my blog counter touch the higher side of 2000.

And here, this sister of mine... starts her blog this late summer. Writes about recipes and only recipes (there is one about some blue-coloured hat-shaped flowers too). Has listed god-knows-how-many similar recipe-crazy blogger friends of hers! (if any of you are reading this, I am just bashing her blog... Welcome to mine. :D, Do read. Comment. Repeat.)

And by doing all this, not only does she have a group of foodloggers... ahaa, nice word--> see, In how many foodlogs would you find an instantaneous contribution to her majesty's language? ... Like I was saying, not only does she have a group of foodloggers who visit regularly and start chirping "Oh... What a nice recipe!!! I'll surely try this out" ... "I had the same recipe book, but its collecting dust. I'll dig out that recipe and add some of that dust and kitchen grime as flavouring" ... "I had tried a similar sambhar when I was desperately short of anything better to make. But I had reduced 0.0000000001 grammes of tamarind and added 0.0000002 grammes of fenugreek as seasoning. I will surely try ur suggestion of toning down on the tamarind a little more!"

And you know what? They actually go and do it! Now who in god's name would actually sit and go through those gazillion foodlogs (don't believe the gazillion, go see the list on the side of my sis's blog) and make those dishes with those recommended changes take pictures and acknowledge the original author. As in, I really wonder what must go on in their minds....

Here I am ..... slicing & dicing ... dicing & slicing the spring onions when..... OOPS! A whole bunch of salted turnips meant for the sabzi finds its way into the perfectly simmering sambhar..... eeks! what will I do?? My foodlogger friends will think I am useless! They'll say I drop turnips into sambhars!... I'll be 'nipslip' for the rest of my foodlogging days!!! waaahhh!!... Wait a sec, So what if its stinks of salted turnips, my tamarind and fenugreek levels are that recommended by H. I'll filter out the turnip pieces, take a few snaps and post it. No one can 'see' an extra can of salt in it. And, now that I have tried her recipe, H will be bound till eternity to visit my blog and comment on it!! Buhahahahahahha....

Common ladies! Are there really so many of you out there who complain of not having time to cook as you work late but nevertheless you have time to go through all these blogs before cooking to find out which recipe is fast to cook and maintains your cholesterol levels? Do you really need a flower listing blog to cheer you up in those morose grey settings outside our country? Is this really happening? And why do you HAVE to use such difficult ingredient names like fenugreek and arse0fartida ... or was it asafoetida??? Hmmm... I wonder what such complex names could cook up in the hands of a novice cook....

She makes this blogging mafia of hers, doesn't even work on the template (its literally a cherry) and she gets almost 6000 visitors already??????????? She has a fan club et al?????? No! This is not fair!!!

And worse, I get to see only the snaps. :(

Give me justice......

Ammmmmaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!! Waaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!!!

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Author's disclaimer:

Before any malicious comment is thrown out onto the public domain about how cooking is an art and one needs to actually practice it before writing about/criticising it, the author would like to state that recently due to dire need and sheer gastronomical desperation, he has learnt to cook and isn't as bad as the bangla boys . He makes it clear that the astronomical exaggerations and desperate attempt at humour is simply a nauseating effort to get back to blogging and trap some foodloggers too. This post is an outcome of sitting in the office at 2 AM and looking at photos on a sibling's blog. And ESPECIALLY this post.

Peace.

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Mulligatawny

2006-10-15T15:46:00.000+05:30

Run little rabbit, Hurry!, Run!
No, there is no safe sheltered hole,
Stark to the sun and rain,
Run little rabbit..... Run!

Escape; the thunder, the lightning, the wind
Not; glowing eyes in the darkness; there
Save; the fur, the pink; yourself
You; have to strive and hide; fool!

Run you mangy carnal wolf
Don't hunt the furry flesh too long,
The sun , the rain on you are too
Run you mangy wolf..... RUN!

Escape; the thorns, the jagged stones,
Not; torches and shouts abound; there!
Save; your gut, your clan; yourself.
You; have to turn and run; fool!

From whom will you run you nameless fear,
Who spawned hunters and kings and seers?
You are cursed to live, to feel and act.
You; run from you, your soul; fool!

A few hours of solitude...

2006-09-26T14:38:00.000+05:30

Its apparently been over 2 months since I penned anything down here... Not that nothing happened in these past months. On the contrary, its been one heck of a weird time. Around 7th August, I was under house arrest due to the Surat floods. Over a week without power, running water, new provisions, milk and absolutely no way of communicating beyond the range of your own voice (our relatives all over were super worried, apparently). Thankfully (for both of us), my parents had landed here just a day earlier and I had bought provisions for them. We peacefully 'survived' the flood.

One of the things I did in those 7 days is what would take any sane person over a month to do; I read "Of human bondage" by Somerset Maugham. Its a marvellous book, drawing from the author's life experiences and containing vignettes of astute observations. The drawback is that its a VERY slow book. Its in stark contrast to any rivetting novel that you would've held on to through the night (Not as rubbery as Ayn Rand though). The flood situation with its extremely limited set of distractions gave me a good chance to finish the book in one go.

One other amazing thing was learning to cook! Amma is an excellent teacher. The testament to this is the praise accorded to my sabji preparation by my co-workers today. And the best part is that I discovered that I actually enjoy cooking! yay!

Which brings me back to the topic of this post. My parents moved into where I live, early last month. It consisted of 2 rooms with walls, the decent kitchen and of course, the loo. But when they left it yesterday, I could in a very slight way call it home. Home with a grouchy landlord (they live in the floor below), a leakin roof, absolutely no furniture... But home nevertheless. Suddenly am shrouded in solitude until I set out on almost a week long work (and fun in between) trip. And solitude in qutie scary at first. The worst is the silence. Not necessarily because you would be yapping otherwise, but just the presence was enough. The silence here suddenly turns eerie. Thank goodness for my computer which is working perfectly , showering me with the flourescent aura of Chandler's snide remarks and Jerry's repeated victories over Tom.

What I am trying to say is.... Heck... I am not trying to say anything. Its just that the home's empty, but I am going to enjoy every ounce of solitude that I can. The chirpy phone will keep me connected regularly, but I have the gift that many others crave for and even crib about at all times. Here's to living a grandpa's life at 22! :)

...Gyaan...

2006-08-03T10:58:00.000+05:30

Bastard!

2006-07-27T20:34:00.000+05:30

Creator

IRRITATING

Nasal

...Music....