shh...

Deepu

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 02 Nov 2018 20:56:00 +0000

I don't recall when exactly I saw him, but I do remember that I didn't notice anything 'off' about him until someone pointed it out to me. He was a sweet, caring kid, a little awkward around people and a (what people found strange or weird) way of looking at you with his head bent and a peculiar gaze.

I used to go to his house for keyboard lessons. Although that lasted for about an year, my friendship with him was much longer. His mom was a small lady with a bright face, constantly worried about him. He wasn't a 'normal' kid so she was always in a dilemma about him doing 'normal' stuff. Playing with other kids, going to school with other 'normal' kids... It seemed like everything was a challenge for him.

Somehow from the first glance, he always always trusted me. He told me things he wouldn't tell his family. He liked to be hugged. All it took was a little sensitivity. Don't stare, don't make fun and don't tease. He was always loyal. I remember he picked a fight with another kid who was making fun of me. I was grateful that he wanted to protect me, but I remember talking to him about how he shouldn't hit someone just because they were talking nonsense. I guess he didn't do that after I explained things to him.

And then I moved. I don't know if I still feel guilty about not being there for him, but I do feel I didn't do all I could do after that. I have a way of being detached but deeply involved. Always have been like that. I can go to the extent of giving up my life for someone, but remain detached to them for years on end. I guess it was the same with him. I used to meet him in school, just seeing him getting confident and playing with more kids. But I also noticed he had figured out a way to be popular with kids. How can a kid like that look 'cool' in front of all the 'normal' ones? He does something taboo. I understood why he did what he did, but I guess somewhere I couldn't accept him now. Or was it my guilt? I still don't know. He started cussing, saying things, I'm sure he didn't understand. I remember being disappointed. A sense of anger at the world where a wonderful person like that would turn into this horrible foul-mouthed bully. Just for some sense of being included, to be accepted. Maybe it was the frustration.

I remember the day I found out what he had become. I had gone back to visit friends near the old house we had moved from. He showed up with his bright smile and the warm hug. But what is it I saw in his eyes? Guilt? Remorse? Worry? Then someone told me. 'Do you know what he is up to these days?' and I saw the horror in his eyes when the stories tumbled out. I gave him another hug and asked him not to do it. Gently, without getting angry. It was hard, but I knew I was the only person who still included him the way he was. I didn't want to take that away from him.

I wish there was something I could have told him, maybe a word of assurance, a little guidance? I still think about him on sleepless nights. His angelic, buck-toothed, innocent smile. The way he took care of his little sister, the way he ran to his mother.... Deepu, I hope you found the acceptance you were looking for, and I hope people don't have to lose themselves looking for acceptance.

Yogi

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 01 Aug 2018 08:28:00 +0000

His gaze falls upon me and showers intense grace.

Helplessly I try to avert my eyes.

Invaded, vulnerable, I crack open.

At the clap of His hands, something inside awakens.

My reality collapses into a comic heap and I go where He takes me, Hypnotized.

Saaki sharaab laa ke tabiyat udaas hai...

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 11 May 2011 01:22:00 +0000

...as the silken voice of the maestro drifted through the room, he sighed a little. The music felt like it was pulling at his heart strings, like the music was a part of him, like he was the source of it and not some old transistor. He stared into nothingness and tried to blink. Even that seemed like too much trouble. The waiter walked past him with a quizzical look. His drink was on the table untouched. The waiter shook his head. "This one's going to make me wait" he seemed to think as he shook his head and moved on.

It was not the first time in this bar for him. He had been here countless times with friends. Although he was a teetotaler, he liked to tag along. He loved the smell of alcohol. And he loved the company. They always used to joke about his share of the bill always running higher because of how much he ate. He smiled as he remembered the last time he was here. He was forced to pay the bill because nobody else had cash. He didn't complain. "Nice guys finish last" was the only thing he managed to say before the drunk stories took over. He liked the stories. They would start somewhere and end up somewhere totally different. He liked the unpredictability of it all. He wouldn't talk most of the time. "Speaking his words like they were precious gems" like one of his friends said.

He looked at the drink, took it in his hand. He twirled it around to look at the light shining through the glass. "One gulp and it'll all be over" he thought. There was no looking back now. He closed his eyes as he imagined himself downing the whole thing in one gulp. A shatter of glass broke his concentration. He looked at one of the waiters apologising profusely to a patron. The patron didn't seem to mind. "One of those lucky people who never know what it's like to be depressed" he thought ruefully.

He put his glass back on the table and took a sip of water instead. He started laughing at the absurdity of it all. "What was I thinking" he thought even as he put up his hand and asked for the bill. As he looked away from the waiter he saw a familiar smile. He tried to look away quickly, but his hand automatically went up to acknowledge the smile. "Oh great!" he thought as the face floated towards him through the sea of people. He panicked at first and then made up his mind for confrontation. "Go to hell! I don't need you. I can handle this all by myself." his thoughts seemed too rude to have been spoken by him. He grimaced a little and braced himself. The face took a sharp right and disappeared into the crowd. He sighed a sigh of relief and looked at the direction in which the face disappeared. He smiled as he saw the face move towards another unfamiliar one.

He noticed the bill lying on the table. He pulled out a 100 and left the change. His drink sparkled in the dim light, as if mocking him. He smiled and started towards the door. The melody blew over like a gentle breeze. Mehdi Hassan seemed to be singing his mind. "Mere pyaar ko tum mita na sakoge..." He looked up at the sky, the moon seemed bigger then when he had entered. "Shama jo jalayee hai meri wafa ne...Mita na bhi chaho, mita na sakoge..." He took out his mobile and started typing with a content look on his face. "We're no strangers to love...You know the rules and so do I..." he hummed as he walked towards his bike.

Warriors fall

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 19 Dec 2009 18:04:00 +0000

What is it about idealism? It attracts, promises, seduces and makes you follow it. With fanatic zealousness. You are prepared to fight for it, to die for it, to kill for it. It is the single idea that holds scores of people together, and alienates them. It makes them love, makes them hate, makes them think, hope and pray. What is it that makes people close their mind to all but their beliefs.

But still... why is it that like a handful of sand that you have, the harder you try to hold it the more of it that slips out of your hand? Why is it people 'grow' out of their beliefs, and think it's ok to forget their beliefs, to act against them, to stop being idealistic and start being 'practical'?

Maybe it's the demands of the new life you have discovered, maybe it's another ideal which sounds more correct, or maybe you're just bored out of it. You abandon a belief system and label it a mistake of zealousness of youth, change it, call it practical and move on as if nothing's changed. No remorse, no regret, no apologies....

Your ideals lie in the waste bin, to be picked up by the next zealous idiot who is stupid enough.Maybe it's just a bee in my bonnet or the fact that I'm too cynical but people disappoint me. Actually idealistic practical people disappoint me.

The Proposal

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 13 Aug 2008 15:22:00 +0000

The morning dews glitter
With the golden glow of your face
The wind it blows hither
With a placid pace
I bathe in the beauty afraid I'd wither
And before you, a proposal place
The future I hope is not so bitter
and peer the crystal ball with an oracle's gaze

(Cheesy and corny - yes, but original ;-))

Inspired by Harshanna's post: http://mookajjanakanasugalu.blogspot.com/2008/08/bedike.html

And then there were none...

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 01 May 2008 06:09:00 +0000

I looked at him with disappointed eyes. He seemed to sense the disappointment. He smiled and said "I am not great." I did not know whether to feel sorry for him or angry at him. Was this the guy I had idolized? The same guy who had the belief that he could bend the world to his will was now crooked himself, with the weight of his responsibilities.

Greatness comes not because of suffering but _in spite_ of it. Every fall I have had has only made me stronger. Every wound has made me a little more aware.

Why do people give up so easily? Why do they have to give up? On their dreams, on their ambitions, on their life? And why do they have to compromise?

You start off thinking you will rule the world one day. That you will make it a better place. That you will not let it's realities change you. And then you start realizing that are not as free as you think you are. You are shackled down. Shackled by the chains of responsibility. Towards your family, towards the people you love, towards the people that have employed you. Then there is always the question of inadequacy. Maybe you can't deal with everything at once. Maybe you aren't as smart or as strong as you had thought you were.

Everybody falls. Gravity spares no one. But you would like to think that people rise. Rise and start walking again. Ignore the pain and look beyond.Make up their mind to finish what they have started. To look up to the sky and believe that they can one day stretch their hand and reach beyond it.

But I can see you have given up. Surrendered to gravity, making no effort to get up. I feel betrayed. I feel disillusioned. I can't see clearly. My vision is blurred. Will this what happen to me? I think. Will I reach out for someone to pull me up from my fall and be left behind, too tired to get up by myself? Will I, with sheer mental effort be able to get up?

Life will resist. It will pull you down. Throw a thousand obstacles your way. Make you want to give up fighting. Makes you want to stop trying to get up.But I refuse to give up. Hope is what shines bright at the other end of the dark tunnel. I still believe I will change the world. I still believe I will leave it a better place. I still believe I can help people who deserve. I still believe I can make a difference. I WILL NOT GIVE UP this easy.

I will be patient and wait for the right time. I will constantly strive to move up to a position which gives me the right view and the reach from which I can change, appeal for change and demand change from the people I can reach out to. I have no dreams of changing the world overnight. But I can make an effort, reach out and give a chance to the world. Because it deserves it.

And finally I will have no more idols. Because idols are not gods, they are human beings. They can never be perfect and I will stop expecting them to be.I will revel in their imperfection and leverage on it. I will make imperfection my strength and my will my weapon. And one day, I shall make a difference. It might be the tiniest of changes but a change it will be. And that day, will my soul rest in peace, in harmony with the world that had sustained me.

Finally! It happened!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 11 Apr 2008 12:22:00 +0000

My blog has an international audience! Wooohooo! I met sheila from Ghana today... Who wanted to be my friend! I am so thankful for the internet! Hey sheila this post is dedicated to you!

[And if this was someone playing a prank on me.. Well I guess I just have to wait for some more time to go international :P]

Happy birthday to you!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 09 Apr 2008 06:28:00 +0000

I know you will probably never read this... But many happy returns of the day! And please grow up!! :P

Food for thought :-)

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 07 Mar 2008 06:51:00 +0000

Snippets from a chat conversation I had with a friend...Thanks T! This one's for you!

Her:
wat plans for weekend?

Me:
no plans

Her:
how sad

Me:
plans are dynamically adjusted to accomodate largest number of meetings with maximum number of people
he he

Her:
u and ur proportions :P

Me:
optimization rocks
getitng annoyed with people.. no one has time for others these days

Her:
why do u say tat
who does not have time for u

Me:
general attitude is to think meeting up on weekends is a waste of time
for some
a distraction for others
and a pain in the neck for the rest

Her:
now now...wat does tat mean
i understand pple r busy
but u call and see na
all wilc ome :P

Me:
yeah with the longest faces they can muster without touching their cheeks to the ground :D
and if you are 5 mins late then heaven help you :D

*************************snip****************************

Her:
he has changed huh?

Me:
everybody has
:D

Her:
ok...we all grow up
tat is y :)

Me:
i know... i don't resist change... it just fascinates me

Her:
i call it growing up and becoming mature

Me:
it's not always that :)
you'll know when it's time....

Her:
u still think i am not mature huh :)

Me:
what you think is 'growing up' may in fact be a futile attempt to align to a view that has been formed by various external factors

Her:
hmm...tat is intersting
:)

Me:
if you think about it....everything that you are now is because of things that you have experienced in the past
you are continuously aligning to suit the needs of a few people that matter the most to you

Her:
hmm
tat is sooooooo true
i agreee

Me:
that includes you too of course but to a very large extent what you want yourself to be is rarely defined by just you :)

Her:
its never abt wat u wanna be
its always abt wat others perceive na

Me:
nope but it is finally your choice isn't it
you can say to hell with this i am wearing what i am comfortable in to office
though every manager you meet emphasises on the impact of appearence in the corporate world

Her:
but ...
hmm

Me:
you are a rule breaker to some a cool guy to others
but as long as you get the work done, it doesn't really matter does it?

Her:
i understand
tat makes sense

Me:
so is it childish of a person to wear jeans to office... or is it considered 'grown-up' to get to client location in a blazer?
people start taking you seriously the moment they see the potential value you can create (irrespective of what you are wearing)

ಅನೂಹ್ಯ...

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 29 Jan 2008 05:35:00 +0000

ಅನೂಹ್ಯನಿವನು ಮನಸ್ಸಿನ ಹಿಡಿತಕ್ಕೆ ಬಾರದವನು

ಕಣ್ಣಲ್ಲಿ ಎಂದೋ ಮಾಸಿದ ಆಸೆಗಳ ಮಬ್ಬು
ಮಾತಿನಲ್ಲಿ ಏನೋ ತಳವಳ, ಹೇಳಲಾಗದ ಗುಟ್ಟು

ಅನೂಹ್ಯನಿವನು ಊಹೆಗೆ ಸಿಲುಕದಿಹನು
ಊಹಾ ಪೋಹಗಳ ನೆಲವ ಬಿಟ್ಟು ಆಕಾಶಕ್ಕೆ ಏರಿದವನು

ಅನೂಹ್ಯನಿವನು ಇಲ್ಲಿಗೆ ಸುಮ್ಮನೆ ಬಂದವನು
ಮಾತು ಮರೆಸಿ ಮನಸ್ಸನ್ನು ಅಡಗಿಸಿ ಇಟ್ತವನು

ಅನೂಹ್ಯನಿವನು ನಿಂತಲ್ಲೇ ನಿಲ್ಲದವನು
ಹರಿಯುವ ನೀರು, ಓಡುವ ಜಿಂಕೆ ತಂಗಾಳಿಯಾದವನು

ಅನೂಹ್ಯನಿವನು ಹತ್ತಿರವಿದ್ದೂ ದೂರವಾದವನು
ಮನಸ್ಸನ್ನು ಕಲಕಿ ನಿಶ್ಚಲದೆ ನಿಂತವನು

(An attempt at poetry in my Mother tounge. Forgive the mistakes. And hoping somebody can translate this :-) And for those who didn't get it, Anoohya = Enigmatic)

My blog@your inbox!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 22 Jan 2008 09:45:00 +0000

I was playing around with feedburner and discovered I could add a subscription widget to my blog. So without further adieu I present, the subscription widget, courtesy feedburner! All you do is type in your e-mail address and click on subscribe. You will recieve a mail when something new is posted! Cool huh? So why wait? Subscribe now!! ;-)

Rejection

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 20 Jan 2008 17:10:00 +0000

HIM: Every time you break my heart, I just pick up the pieces and lay
them in front of me and then a tear falls on the broken pieces and
fixes my heart. Every time my heart is fixed, it beats faster because
every tear has your name on it. You may never love me but that doesn't
matter, because my love is like light... It doesn't need reflections to lessen darkness.I know you will never think I am worthy
enough...maybe I'm not, maybe I can be...I don't know. All i know is
that my love is true and true love never fades.

HER: Why can't we be friends?

The Last Call

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 14 Jan 2008 08:37:00 +0000

Naveen looked down. He stood there staring at the hard ground below. He could almost feel it's embrace. He imagined what it would be like to hit the ground at 9.8 m/s² . Would it hurt too much? Would he feel the pain or would he die instantly? Would they be able to identify his body? Would they find the note he left behind?

"They wouldn't find the note" he thought. "Maybe I need to put it in a more obvious place." He removed the suicide note from his pant pocket and put it in his shirt pocket. "But what if I fall on my face and the note gets smeared with my blood?" He removed it from his shirt pocket and looked for a stone. He then placed the note under a big stone right next to the spot where he had decided to jump from. "That is that. They can't miss it now!" He thought. "Phew! Suicide is hard work!" He thought as he went back on the ledge.

He looked down again. If he leapt it would all be over. No more tears, no more pain, no more anything. He imagined the peace that would come after death. Like a deep dreamless slumber. Everything would be over. No more fear, no more loneliness, no more heartbreaks. He took a deep breathe and steadied himself for the jump as a song flashed through his head.

"Main shayar badnaam...."

"On the count of 3." He told himself.

"Ooo main chala..."

"One..."

"Mehfil se naakaam..."

"Two.."

His concentation was disturbed by the buzz of his cellphone in his pocket. He was tempted to ignore it and continue his jump. But a wierd sensation made him feel that somebody needed him. "Maybe I could help someone just before I die. Maybe I can do one good deed. I owe it to the world." He thought as he stepped back from the ledge.

"Hello...Naveen here!" He said his voice shaking with excitement.

"Hello Sir! This is Deeksha from Apna Bank credit card division. I would like to tell you about our new special health-cum-credit card. This card gives you free access to top hospitals in your city and it is free for lifetime........"

The Dreamer

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 28 Nov 2007 11:17:00 +0000

The old man smiled at his neighbour. She pretended to be engrossed in the magazine she was reading. "You know, I've been flying for almost 7 years now and the in-flight reading of this airline is probably the worst ever!" He said as he grinned. The young girl smiled politely and looked out the window, making it clear that she did not intend to engage in conversation. "Isn't that such a wonderful view!" said the old man, still taking no hints to her apparent disinterest. She looked him squarely in the eye, glaring and pulled down the blind. The old man chuckled. Looking straight ahead, he said in a low voice, "You know I had a dream last night, I was among the clouds, soaring along." She bit her tounge to keep from replying, and looked with more intensity into the magazine she was thumbing through. "Khalil Gibran once said 'Yesterday is but today's memory, and tomorrow is today's dream.'" the old man continued, as if unaware of the irritation he was causing the girl, "Wonderful things dreams are. I always believed in them, since I was a kid. They say Dreams are God's way of telling you your heart's deepest desires.".

"Dreams are a waste of time!" shot back the girl, before she could stop herself, "Life is a tragedy for dreamers,a comedy for doers and a reality for achievers!" she said, her face glowering with anger "All these fairy tales are to amuse kids and grown ups stupid enough to believe in them. Dreams are for losers. Those who cannot dare to do, dream.". "You mean you never had a dream? In your entire life?" asked the old man. " She shifted in her seat, looked him in the eye and lied "No!". "Liar Liar pants on fire" chuckled the old man. "I think you had a dream broken so bad, you are afraid of dreaming again. It's made you cynical hasn't it?". She started sobbing. Memories started flooding her eyes and she cried. For the first time in years she cried like a little girl. The old man just kept staring ahead. "We announce the arrival of the flight to Bangalore. We should be able to land in approximately 10 minutes." the pilot's voice boomed out bringing her back to the present. She excused herself to the washroom. She washed her face and looked in the mirror. Then she smiled. She went back to her seat, relieved and light. She smiled at the old man as she got back into her seat. "Thank you" she said as the announcement was made and the seatbelt signs went on. The old man grinned at her "Thank yourself. You have your whole life ahead of you." he said mysteriously.

The old man was out of his seat as soon as the flight landed. He was the first to get off. She looked through the window as he waved to her. She waved back.

"Hey! You are writing again!" said Smitha as she walked in to see her on the table. "Finally! So you are going to finish your book?" she asked. "Yes. I don't care if it doesn't get published. I needed to finish it." "But your job? You said you didn't have the time" said Smitha. She tossed an envelope at Smitha. "Oh my God! You... Resigned?" asked Smitha, only to be greeted by a grin. "The stranger who taught me to dream again." she wrote, the last short story in her book. She smiled as she sipped her tea.

"...and that is why Dreams are so important. They say Dreams are God's way of telling you your heart's deepest desires. So dare to dream and dare to act upon them. Thank you." The speech was greeted by a thunderous applause. "Ma'am" asked one of the reporters, "Is it true that your last short story 'The stranger who taught me to dream again' is a real life incident?" She grinned and nodded. "How does it feel to be the author of a best selling book?" asked another. "Like a dream come true." she replied.

She smiled for the cameras once more as she walked back to her car. "Thank you" she said, to no one in particular.

Dream Girl

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 02 Nov 2007 16:24:00 +0000

I always thought it would be the opening strings of 'Tum Bin Jaun Kahan'. I had dreamed of hearing those guitar strings strumming in the background when I saw her. And a light breeze playing with her hair. And the smile..... It would light up the world. "Dreams have a strange tendency of coming true to those who believe in them" I had heard, and was hoping it was true. I had pictured her in my mind. Seen her through my imaginations. And imagined the moment all my life. But nothing could prepare me for what was in store. No amount of imagination could make me see the events of that fateful day.

A light breeze blew in a drizzle of rain. I loved the smell of rain. Always made the ambiance a tad more romantic. I settled down on a bench and looked down the platform. The train looked like it would be late. "Indian standard time" I thought to myself. I pulled out my copy of "The Alchemist" I had put it back just before the last sentence. I loved to read the last sentence, filled me with joy every single time. I wondered if there was a 'Fatima' for me, waiting in a far off desert to fall in love with me. I put the book back into my backpack and looked at the opposite platform. It was mostly empty. "Not many people going the other direction" I thought.

And then it happened. A sudden gust of wind blew the umbrella off her hands. She laughed as she chased it. Far off some peddler was advertising his flutes by playing the tune from 'Hero'. I looked into her eyes. She stood still for a moment. Her eyes met mine. I gazed, transfixed. It was like magic. The announcement jolted me back to my senses. Two trains, going in opposite directions chugged into the two platforms. I sighed, shook my head and stepped into my berth. I looked out the window, and she was sitting a little ahead. Looking towards my train her eyes twinkling, her face radiant. And then she smiled... I felt the whole world lighting up due to her smile. The engine of her train started, she suddenly got up and ran out of the train as it moved out of the platform whistling loudly. I felt my train starting to move. I felt a pang of regret as I looked at her. She was looking into my train, her eyes alight with hope. Like she was expecting to tell someone something.

As my train gathered speed, I noticed a handsome guy jumping off onto the platform. I looked out at both the platforms. Both of them were standing opposite each other, smiling and lost in each other's eyes. I smiled. "Maktub" I said as I left the two lovers who had just experienced 'love at first sight' back at the railway station.

"Some matches are made in heaven".

November Kannadiga

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 30 Oct 2007 14:29:00 +0000

November 1st, Any Year, 5.00 p.m. IST:

The phone doesn't ring. The classic "Naavaaduva nudiye kannada nudi" blares into your ears.

"Namaskaara saaar!" comes the voice. A little surprised you ask "Is this [insert name here]?". "Hun kano naaneya! Yake doubt-a?"

A little taken aback you blabber something incoherent until the point
of the conversation is reached. Once you are done with whatever
business you had, you hurry up say good bye and hang up.

December 1st, Same Year, 5.00 p.m. IST:

The phone doesn't ring. But this time you have a remixed version of
"Baby got back" playing thrust into your ears. Your ear drums shudder
in protest. You grit your teeth and wait.

"Yo! Dude! Wassup?" comes the same voice. You smile and say "Namskara
saar! [insert name here] idara?". "It's me only daaa! Tell me bro'
wassup with you?".

You again blabber something incoherent until the point of the
conversation is reached. Once you are done with whatever business you
had, you hurry up say good bye and hang up as quickly as your fingers
allow you......

AAARRRGGGGHHHH!!!! a.k.a Email blues!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 25 Oct 2007 08:43:00 +0000

People people people!! Stop forwarding junk mails which promise to make you rich overnight! Stop forwarding mails which promise to help a little girl in sweden undergo brain surgery!! Stop annoying and irritating other people who have work to do! I know you feel all good inside for having done your good deed for the day but it's nothing! You haven't helped anybody!!

Can't you see? Isn't it obvious? How can anybody track email forwards? You tell me! All the people who call themselves software engineers! You think someone would write a program to snoop on EVERY SINGLE EMAIL ADDRESS IN THE WORLD to see if they forwarded a PARTICULAR EMAIL? Sheesh! The hours that take programming it and the cost of running it with the consent of all email providers in the world would make whoever wrote it a billionaire overnight! And HE could just DONATE the money to the poor kid instead of YOU forwarding the email!!

The worst part? Most of these emails come from people who are SOFTWARE ENGINEERS!! I wonder if they even THINK! It's a disgrace I tell you DISGRACE!! If you wanna help someone then make donations to the Prime Minister's Relief Fund or something and stop wasting everybody's time!!

If you still have doubts about tracking emails then here's some info:

Most emails are in the MIME format and sent across using the SMTP. Look up these terms on google and try to see if what I say is true or not!

And here are a list of email hoaxes for medical assistance till now on snopes.com

http://www.snopes.com/inboxer/medical/medical.asp

Thanks for reading this. I hope you stop wasting your and everybody else's time and also save some energy in not forwarding these emails!!

The futility....

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 27 Sep 2007 14:24:00 +0000

of orkut pickup lines.... ;)

Ok so they aren't the best... Or the brightest.. But all of them are desperate to meet someone through orkut! And they will go to any length to add you to their friend list. Yes, I've heard a lot of orkut love stories... Some tragic some successful some mostly funny stories... In fact orkut has also helped in rekindling long lost flames and stroke the fires of the past.. But the desperate guy looking for friendship is the funniest! And some of the replies are amazing too! One of my favorite past times is looking through random profiles and see this phenomenon of 'can i be your friend weirdness'.

1. Really really desperately desperate guy

Doesn't talk! Just sends friend requests to any girl who has pics in her album!! Sometimes just the word 'female' in the profile will do!

These guys... I dunno what to say to them! Maybe they just like their friend list longer ;)

2. The desperately desperate guy with weak vocabulary!

"Hi! How arrrreeee yooooouuuu? I wanna make fraaandships with you......"

Dude! First, get a life.... Second, learn english!!

3. The innocent sweet guy

"Hi, I was going through your profile. We seem to have a lot in common. I like banana milkshake topped with chocolate ice-cream too! Wanna be friends?"

Ok nice try buster! But liking the same milkshake doesn't qualify as 'lot in common'! You need improvement!!

4. The ego inflater

"Hi! You have lovely eyes! And a beautiful smile! Can we be friends?"

Good one. Yes the girl has lovely eyes and yes she has a beautiful smile.. Why not? SHE HAS RANI MUKHERJEE AS HER PROFILE PICTURE!! Moron!!

5. The pretentious prick

"Hi! I am 6ft 3 inches and weigh 73 kgs. I have big muscles.... and all girls say I look hansome. I like making friendships with online people. Will you be my friend?"

Ok.... I have nothing to say... Wait! Dude! "I have big muscles??" "hasome??" "all girls??" "online people??" yeah! right! Keep dreaming!!

6.The funny man

"he he! Looks like you had fun in goa. You look awesome! Lolzzz! Can we be friends?"

These guys look like right out of a Yahoo chat room with the smilies and everything.... But why would you laugh out loud after you compliment someone on their looks? Gawd!

7. The innovator

Hmm these guys are tricky! They come up with different lines for different people... They try to find a common friend, a common community or just outright lie to get some kind of response...

"Hi I have a problem I want to discuss with you. It can only be solved by a female. Reply asap"

Right. Should she also bring her broomstick and cauldron along? Idiot!!

"Hi! Hey do you know Rashmi who used to work for that xyz firm who had a kid sister called Raji who was friends with Nikhita whose Brother's sister-in-laws' colleague was my friend's cousin's husband who is also on your friends list?"

Wait! I'm confused who the hell are you talking about??

8. The master!

Oooh these guys are pros! They read the girl right and strike when the iron's hot! All the buncha losers ought to learn from them.

" I will not flirt with beautiful girls on orkut.
I will not flirt with beautiful girls on orkut.
I will not flirt with beautiful girls on orkut.
..........................................................
..........................................................

Damn! Look! You made me break my new year resolution ;) "

One word: Awesome!!

Ok I am off to see if I can borrow some lines from these guys...... Online relationships... Here I come!!

Lover Boy [3]

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 20 Sep 2007 01:00:00 +0000

Not a continuation but related to this and this ;)

Kumar smiled as he kept the phone down. He was glad Gayu had finally found someone. "Strange." He thought, "The girl who said she doesn't believe in Love... Life is full of surprises." Well he knew Sunny well. "Dr. Sunny", he corrected himself. They made a nice pair and he was glad they were together. He switched on the TV. "Crap! Crap! More crap!" he sighed as he endlessly jumped from channel to channel. "Aaah! Finally something tasteful!" he exclaimed as he stopped his channel flipping to The Tom and Jerry show on the Cartoon Channel. He had watched all the episodes zillions of times but the cat and the mouse always cracked him up!

The door bell rang. He walked up to answer it. He stuck his head out the door to see the postman taking off on his cycle. He had never seen the postman's face. "The invisible postman" he thought "That would make a great story!". He removed the mail from the window sill. He walked back sifting through the envelopes.

"Offers for a platinum credit card. Statement of accounts.... Nothing out of the ordinary.." he was thinking when he spotted her name on the invitation card. "Rags weds...." he couldn't even read her full name. She would always be Rags for him. And he couldn't even look at the groom's name. "She remembered!" he said suddenly.

"Rags" he had said with a tearful voice, "don't forget to invite me for your marriage. I would love to meet.... that buffoon who marries you!" he ran shrieking with laughter, and she had chased after him. It was like yesterday. But she had asked him for his address. And had memorized it.

"She remembered!" he thought, "Women! You can't live with them you can't live without them." He waited, for the sorrow to come. For the tears... None came. He suddenly realized he wasn't sad. Infact he was feeling light-headed, like a burden was lifted off his head. He felt like he was free. A strange sense of calmness enveloped him... He was quite taken aback by how he was reacting. "Wow!" he said to himself, "Mr. Kumar... Looks like you're all grown up!".

He patted himself on the back and went back to cartoon network. He chuckled slightly as he saw Jerry tying Tom's tail into a knot. Next up: "The Popeye Show" said the animated ad in the corner of the screen. He carefully put back the invitation card back into the envelope and tossed it on the table. "That's one marriage feast I'm gonna miss" he thought as he settled back with his bag of Aloo Bhujia.

"Oh popeye! You are so Strong..."

"I fights to the finish 'cos I eats me Spinach I'm popeye the sailor man!" Toooot! Toooot!

Normalcy Restored!! :-)

Lover Boy [2]

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 18 Sep 2007 12:16:00 +0000

The previous one is here

She was walking away with tears in her eyes. He stood there seething with rage. Anger felt good. He had burst after a long time. It felt good to vent. He was still breathing heavily, staring at her disappearing shadow with bloodshot eyes.

It was then that it hit him. He had just lost her. He had gone too far! He collapsed on the stairs thinking "What have I done!". She wasn't going to talk to him ever again. He sat there trying to fight his tears. He didn't win. He sat there sobbing like a child.

He heard footsteps. He stood up, wiped his tears and ran on to the terrace. He took several deep breaths and caught his breath back. He saw gayu walk up. He gave her a grin. "Hey! What doing here maaaan?" she asked. "Oh.. Umm.. Nothing... Just... Well I was waiting for you darling..". "Shut up! Flirtomaniac!" pat came the reply. "Chill babe! You know I luuvve you! And I know you luuvve me!" he said, grinning. "Ayyyoooo Raama! Why did I even come here? Ahhh yes. They are looking for you downstairs. Something about Arishina and kumkum for the karnataka map or something." said gayu. He slapped his forehead. Of course! He thought. How can you make a karnataka rangoli without yellow and red powders? "Ohh yeah! I almost forgot. Tell Vasanth I'm taking his Bike. And make sure you tell him that princi's agreed to pay for the petrol!" he said and ran off to the parking lot. "Maaaad guy! Wonder why he was crying though..." thought gayu as she walked downstairs.

He zipped to the nearby 'kaka' stores and got a packet of turmeric powder and kumkum. Panting, he approached the 'rangoli' girls. "Yenamma rangoli!" he cried out. "Oye! Why so laate-u? Give-u give-u Fast-u fast-u" said Shree. "Takeamma! Take-u take-u!" he grinned. "Hey! Stop making fun and make yourself useful" said a grim sounding baritone. He twirled around to see Giri... "They need some assistance with the computer. It seems the speakers aren't clear. Must be some connection problem. Hogi Nodtya swalpa?" said Giri. "Yes maga! Nam sooper man idane tane comp hatra?" he said enthusiastically. "Hun.. Damle is there." said Giri. And looked up to see a streak of red running towards the back stage......

Normalcy Restored!! :-)

Thank God.....

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 12 Sep 2007 18:00:00 +0000

[Spoiler alert!]

Thank god Ajay Devgan wasn't called Veeru
Thank god Amitabh wasn't called Gabbar
Thank god Sushanth Singh wasn't called Sambha
Thank god Rajpal Yadav wasn't called Soorma Bhopali
Thank god Ghungroo drove an auto and not a tonga
Thank god the auto isn't called Dhanno
Thank god Kali Ganj wasn't called Ramgadh
Thank god Narsimha doesn't say "Maar do hathoda" after "Loha garam hai"
Thank god Babban doesn't ask "Ab tera kya hoga Kaalia?"
Thank god Ghungroo says "Too much" instead of "Yun ki"
Thank god Babban doesn't say "Kahan hai re phauji number do?"
Thank god Rajpal Yadav doesn't say "Hamara naam soorma bhopali aise hi nahi hai"
Thank god Babban asks "Diwali kab hai?" instead of asking "Holi kab hai?"
Thank god Sushmita has more dialogues than Jaya Bhaduri did
Thank god Babban has a reason to kill Narsimha's family other than just going to jail.
Thank god Ajay Devgan doesn't get drunk and climb up on a water tank.
Thank god the blind old man doesn't say "Itna sannata kyun hai bhai?"
Thank god it's called "RGV ki Aag" and not "RGV ke Sholay"

Thank god for small mercies.

RGV has always maintained that he wasn't making a remake. He said he's paying tribute. And as far as tributes go, this one wasn't all that hot. As a remake, as a story told in a different way in a different time for a different people, "Yes".

A typical RGV fare, Aag has it all. The firm hold over the script, gritty cinematography, edge-of-the-seat action sequences, the raunchy 'mehbooba' by Urmila,
flawless, menacing, Amitabh Bachchan and of course the characterizations that one can only associate with an RGV flick. But, unfortunately the film lacked something.... Something was missing.....

I applaud your effort Mr. Varma but, Sholay is Sholay!!

Yeh Dosti....
Any number of dialogs or emotional scenes or conversations cannot establish the camaraderie between Jai and Veeru as one song did.

Yeh dosti hum nahi chodenge..
Todenge dum magar tera saath na chodenge....

The widow and the rouge
The chemistry between Amitabh and Jaya pulled a chord in your heart. Using the same music doesn't do much to bring back those unsaid words and the silent conversations between them.

The harmonica and the light sequence.... one of the best scenes in Sholay!

And the look on Jaya's face said "I lost my husband yet again".. The look on Sushmita's said "He's dead"... Just not the same!

The helpless victim/Revenge seeker
One character that did stay the same in both films...Brilliant job by Mohanlal...

When thakur sees his family dead before his eyes..... The sequence in Sholay is far more chilling though the bodies were wrapped in white clothes.

Sanjeev Kumar's condition is revealed only after the Holi fight sequence. Mohanlal's revelation wasn't that good.
One more reason why the original stuck a chord in your heart.

The villain
I applaud your effort Mr. Bachchan but there can only be one Gabbar. And Babban is no match for Amjad Khan.

Though Amitabh does bring in a new menace to the role... But most of the cruelty in the character was lost with the 'revenge' angle and introducing a chota bhai and emotions into Babban's potrayal....

Gabbar killed Thankur's entire family just because he sent him to jail and Babban had a reason for it.... Gabbar is definitely more cruel then! ;)

Dialogues
The one single reason why Sholay is Sholay.

"Kitna inaam rakha hai re sarkaar hamra upar"
"Ab tera kya hoga kaalia?"
"Jo dar gaya samjho mar gaya"
"Basanti in kutton ke saamne mat naachna"
"Yun to befazool batein karneki aadat to hume hai nahi par dekhne waali baat yeh hai..."
"Kaam jo main bolun..Daam jo tum chaaho"
"Itna sannata kyun hai bhai... Koi mar gaya hai kya?"
"Pachas pachas kos dur gaon me jab bachha rota hai to maa kehti hai soja.. soja beta warna Gabbar Singh aajayega"
"Goliyan che aur aadmi teen bahut naainsafi hai"
"Gaaon waalon main jaa raha hun.. Bhagwaan main aa raha hun"
"Bahut jaan hai tere haath me eh... Yeh haath mujhe de thakur..."
"Kya bola tha tu us din? Yeh haath nahi phaasi ka phanda hai eh? Dekh! Khul gaya phanda!"

I seriously doubt if even one dialogue from Aag stays with you when you leave the cinema hall.

And I know it's a major, burning issue but ....
WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BRING IN USELESS REFERENCES TO AMERICA AL-QAIDA AND IRAQ?? WHY????

The coin
What? No both-sides-heads coin flipping in Aag? Sad..... That was my favorite part in Sholay.

I am not trying to put the effort down. I am not saying I was disappointed. All I am saying is Sholay cannot be retold in any other way.... It is not open to other kinds of interpretations... Sholay is Sholay and that's all I have to say about that!!

Even though the 'something-for-everyone' masala popcorn flick isn't your style, good job Mr.RGV. I applaud your effort but... Sholay is Sholay...

[End spoiler alert]

If you are going to see Aag, please go without expecting another Sholay and you will not be disappointed. This is, after all "RGV ki Aag'!!

Procrastination

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 08 Sep 2007 18:40:00 +0000

I thought I'd write up on it....... But then I thought... I'll do it some other time ;-)

Some more... Fresh!!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 06 Sep 2007 14:04:00 +0000

It's 12.30 in the morning, the cab is running through a particularly bad patch of road somewhere in between Bhadravati and Bangalore. I pull out my mobile phone and record a thought that just flashed. Hmm.. Interesting.. Let's see what they think of it... I pass it back... They say it's good.. I move it to the drafts folder.. And this goes on... Two nights in the cab =A loadful of drivel (umm I mean random thoughts....) Enjoy your torture!! :p

Aaina

Yun apni hi parchayiyon se kyun dar gaye ho?
Apni hi aks dekh ke kyun ghabra gaye ho?
Kya apni hi nazar me gir gaye ho..
Ke aaj aine ke saamne sar jhukaye khade ho?

Roshni

Woh jo aye mehfil me aisa laga
Ke raat ke andhere pighal gaye
Woh gaye to gayi yun roshni
Ke jugnu bhi unke saath nikal gaye

Madhoshi

Humne chum liya tere badan ko madhoshi me
Tere badan ki khushbu ne humko behka diya tha
Magar kya izhaar chupa tha teri khamoshi me
Is khayal ne dil ke chaman ko mehka diya tha

Housla

Masal to diya gul-e-dil ko aapne
Mohabbat ki khushbu ko rok paoge kaise?
Banaya hoga apne housle ko buland aapne
Takdeer ke badthe kadmon ko rok paoge kaise?

Be-abroo

Phir beabroo hogayi mohabbat
Phir tanha ho gaye hain hum
Phir samjhe nahi woh dil ki fitrat
Phir ubhar aye hain gham

Shayari

Jo cheekh tha dil ke dard ka
Aapne to usko mushayira bana diya
Hum to baant rahe the gham ghataneko
Aap ne padhkar use shayari banadiya

Ishq

Aaj mere ishq ka inteqaal hogaya
Aaj khatam tere aaneka intezar hogaya
Aaj dil tere gham ki kabr me dafan hogaya
Aaj tere aanchal mere dil ka kafan hogaya

Zanjeer

Woh aake phir usi mod par sar jhuka ke khade hain
Yun lag raha hai ke mere aansuon ka hisaab chuka ke khade hain
Woh pahuncha ke awaz hum tak intezaar me khade hain
Koi to unko bata de hum haalat ke zanjeer se bandhe khade hain

Adhure lamhe

Adhuri zindagi ke adhure lamhe hain saath mere
Bas adhuri si khushiyan ayi hain haath mere
Kehne ko to bahut milte the woh par adhure se the mulaquaat mere
Woh aye to koi kehdena unse ke bahut hain adhure baat mere

Sharaabi

Dil ke maikade se chalka den jaam-e-wafa yeh lagta hai
Saqi sharaab la ke phir wohi hoga anjaam-e-wafa yeh lagta hai
Woh jo aye yaad to kadam dagmaga gaye yeh lagta hai
Saari duniyane kehdiya sharaabi hume duniya khud hai nashe me yeh lagta hai

Jaam saqi ne aaj is ada se pila diya
Pyaas bhi bujha diya aur aag bhi lagadiya
Us aag ne dil ko kuch is tarha se jaladiya
Yaad agayi usiki jisne humko thukrake bhuladiya

Na raat ke aasuon me na din ke andhere me
Ab to guzar gayi zindagi maikade me
Woh thukra de hume yeh baat na thi unke fitrat me
Yaad ajate hum unko agar woh likhe the hamari kismat me

Manzil

Woh makaam jo abhi nikal gaya
Koi batade unko ke woh manzil hi tha
Woh baat jispe dil machalgaya
Woh samjhe nahi par wafa hi tha

Khumar

Khade hain aaj wahi par tera intezaar nahi
Wafa to hai aaj bhi par dil ka aitbaar nahi
Aap ajaye meri zindagi me phirse humko aitraaz nahi
Par aaj hamari aankhon me mohabbat ka khumar nahi

Wafa

Woh jise samjhe the wafa woh wafa na tha
Aur jo wafa tha use hi samjha nahi
Jo wafa na tha woh dil pe andhere ka teer chala gaya
Aur jo tha wafa usne dil me unke naam ka chiraag jala gaya

Shayar

Do lafz jo likh diya to shayar bana diya
Do aansun jo chalkadiya to ghamzada bana diya
Do baar bin waja ke has diya to deewana bana diya
Aapne kyun har cheese par galat mohar laga diya?

Bin mausam ke baadalon ko barsaat bana diya
Kun aapne akele ko kafila bana diya
Mazjid me na gaye to kafir bana diya
Mazjid bana liya tha dil me khuda ka, kyun apne hume khuda bana diya?

Some more of my work....

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 31 Aug 2007 11:35:00 +0000

Rithish... I hope you are reading ;)

The rest of you muahhhahha!! Suffer in silence :P

Haal-e-dil

Hum apni marzi se khud kitne dur chale jate hain
Zindagi ke zanjeer khiche jitni dur chale aate hain

Is din ke andhere mein bhatakte chale jaate hain
Ab to tere dard ke peeche khiche chale aate hain

Haal-e-dil karneko bayaan unke kooche pe chale jaate hain
Thukraana de woh yeh sooch ke unke dariche se chale aate hain

Kaafir

Dil ki dhadkane bhi sunlete tumhari
Kabhi seene se lagakar to dekh lete

Hum bhi marne ko tayyar the teri wafa ke khatir
Hamari ehd-e-wafa bhi aazma ke to dekh lete

Hum bhi mit ke bikhar sakte the tere gham me
Kabhi hamare dil ko bhi thukrake to dekh lete

Kaafir ho jate tere mohabbat ko hi maanlete khuda
Khuda hota hai kya mohabbat ke kaafir to dekh lete

Dil ke tukde

Thukra diya unhone hame kuch is adaa se
Ke hum haste haste dil ke tukde samet-te chale gaye

Woh gaye dur is qadar hamse
Ke unki yaadein bhi humse ruth kar chale gaye

Chand paison ke liye

Dekho is pari ko yeh raate rangeen karti hai do waqt ki roti ke liye
Uske abroo ka sauda kardiya kisi ne chand paison ke liye

Tere hawas ko mitake woh khud jalti hai sachhe pyaar ke liye
Zaleel hoke tere kamre se nikalti hai chand paison ke liye

Yeh aurat hai khilona nahi tere khelke todne ke liye
Majbooriyon se samjhauta karliya hai isne chand paison ke liye

Kabhi jo dekhen isko raah me to majboor hain hum sochne ke liye
Ke woh kaisa beta hoga jo bech dale apni maa ko chand paison ke liye

Kaafiron ko sunate phirte hain woh khuda ko dhundne ke liye
Yeh kaise bande hain ke khuda ko bechdala chand paison ke liye

One last effort!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 30 Aug 2007 16:00:00 +0000

If you don't like it I'll stop! Promise!!

Deewane

Deewanon ki na suniye koi baat
Deewane to yunhi kehte rehte hain
Dard ko hansi se chupake rote hain
Aur maut ko gale se lagaake jeete hain

Bahut zyaada bolte hain kabhi
Kabhi chuppi se baat karte hain
Deewane to deewane hain
Khamoshi ko bhi sunana jante hain

Baaton me unke na aana kabhi doston
Baat se woh sabko gumraah karte hain
Jhaankh ke dekho un aankhon me kabhi
Deewane to gham ko nazron se bayaan karte hain

Suroor ho mohobbat ka ya ho khumar bewafai ka
Deewanon se na pucho woh kis wajah se deewane hain
Dil me woh kiske naam ka chirag jalate hain
Chirag bujhte hain to unke dil jalte hain

Zamana chahe sang baar kare unpe
Sitam hazar zamane ke seh lete hain
Woh maar khake bhi hanste rehte hain
Aur har pal mohabbat ke naam pe mit-te rehte hain

Main jaanta hun ke zamane ki nazar me
Kuch kaam ke nahi deewane hain
Par deewanon ki nazar se to dekho
Zamane bhar me deewane hi deewane hain

Na hasna meri baaton pe mere quatil
Hum to teri dar pe kismat aazmane aayen hain
Teri mohabbat me hum khud ko aazmane aayen hain
Ab kaise kahen tumse ke hum bhi tere naam ke deewane hain