| Pictures worth a thousand words... |
[29 Dec 2004|05:32pm] |
These past few days the newspapers have devoted reams to the Tsunami tragedy in coastal Tamil Nadu... I have a few friends living in Chennai and Pondicherry, so I was concerned when I first read the news... But I've spoken to them and ascertained that physically at least they've been largely unaffected... Since then about 24,000 or so words have been devoted to this display of nature's fury in the various Indian newspapers... I read this statistic somewhere... But all them words have done nothing for me... Maybe I don't have it in me to be affected or concerned by a tragedy that is being measured in numbers... 45 dead or 45,000 doesn't make the slightest difference...
And then I saw this:
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| ?! |
[24 Dec 2004|02:16pm] |
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I know nobody wants a GMail invite anymore... But they're still handing them out... So just in case, leave me a comment...
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| Updates have become few and far between... |
[20 Dec 2004|05:09pm] |
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mood |
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 cheerful |
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music |
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A-Ha - Take On Me |
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It was a 4am start on a freezing winter day. The intention, of course, was to cover the 100 odd kilometers (by bike) to Modhera in pitch-black-ness and be there in time for the sunrise. I was definitely out of my mind...!
Numerous unscheduled stops by roadside chai stalls in a vain attempt to ward off the icy cold ensured that sunrise happened on a lonely stretch of highway. It was still beautiful. Wait till the snaps come out.
Modhera eventually arrived (it seems presumptious to say I arrived there) at 7am. The next 4 hours passed by in a series of photographs melting into one another. Breakfast, at 11, was a lost cause- Deep-fried-super-oily batata vadas.
More butt-sore-ofying riding got me to Patan at 12. More photographs melted into each other...
Lunch was tasteless dal and leatherwork roti at a roadside dhaba some 20 kilometers from Patan. I remember some mindless conversation with a bunch of truck drivers who insisted that I must be a firang since I was toting around a camera, extra lenses, a tripod and bits and peices of other equipment. They said something to the effect that no Indian in his right mind would do that. The fact that I was biking it all the way just seemed to clinch matters for them. Never mind that my participation in the conversation was in fluent Gujarati. For some strange reason that didn't count...!
The outskirts of Ahmedabad at 5.30pm seemed like an oasis in the desert. Butt-sore and ride-weary I wolfed down some dinner, which I barely remember, and called it an early night. After the first few hours of biting cold the weather was pleasant and the roads, excellent. At the end of the day this is my idea of fun. Wait till the snaps come out.
Of course, there's the small matter of a butt-replacement surgery but we won't go into that here...
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| Odds... |
[08 Dec 2004|05:37pm] |
dhuaa.n uthhaa diiwaane ke
jalte ghar se saari raat
lekin woh Khaamosh rahe
duniyaa.n ke dar se saari raat
For some strange reason these four lines have been doing the rounds in my head, suitably alternated with-
ab to ghabaraa ke ye kahate hai.n ke mar jaaye.nge
mar ke bhii chain na paayaa to kidhar jaaye.nge
ham nahii.n vo jo kare.n Khuun kaa daavaa tujh par
balqi puuchhegaa Khudaa bhii to mukar jaaye.nge
The first one is by Shamim Shahabadi and the second by Ibrahim Zauq
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Currently Reading: Laughable Loves by Milan Kundera
Enjoying every word on every page...
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...they know not that they seek only the chase and not the quarry.
~Blaise Pascal
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| Just a short movie break to take my mind of work for a bit, mind you... |
[02 Dec 2004|09:44pm] |
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mood |
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 working |
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music |
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I Feel Good - James Brown |
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I love underdogs. And in case you're wondering why, I've just watched Wimbledon. I mean the movie, starring Paul Bettany, Kirsten Dunst and Sam Neill. Oh I know it's a soddy movie. But what the hell, I love underdogs anyway.
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| Maal-odourous...?! |
[01 Dec 2004|12:13am] |
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mood |
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 tired |
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music |
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Tunnel of Love - Dire Straits |
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The barista at my friendly neighbourhood Coffee Day came running up to me last night, just as I was leaving with my nightly cup of steaming latte. He wanted to know what deo I was wearing. He couldn't stop about how he had to get himself the exact same brand. Strangely, I wasn't wearing any deo that night, though that didn't stop me from mumbling 'Hugo' and walking out the door. Hell, he needn't know! So I guess I have what you would call a pleasant natural odour. Nice.
Or it may be that he was gay and was trying to hit on me. Either way, I'm pleased to know I don't stink.
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It's no go the Herring Board, it's no go the Bible,
All we want is a packet of fags when our hands are idle.
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| A few days late... |
[25 Nov 2004|03:43pm] |
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mood |
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 lazy |
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Sunday happened four days back. It signified the fact that I'm a year older now, though there's nothing particularly significant about that really... Plus, of course, the fact that, in reality, I only turned a day older... One can't really turn a year older in a day now, can one...?
It was quiet this year... In comparison to what happened the last time around... If you discount the period from 2355 on the 20th to 0045 on the 21st which was anything but quiet...! That's when all the calls and messages came in... While I was trying to be a little more involved in a romantic latte and orange cheesecake rendezvous planned by my cousin H...
But sunday was quiet, despite the excitement of the night before... Treated the family to a home cooked lunch... Keema Pulao and Baked Fish... Turned out pretty good, though I do say so myself... Lazy afternoon catching up on a movie... Evening at Coffee Day with Ayan and Madhura and then for dinner with H joining us... Back home to Marquez and his unthinkably long solitude... And then to bed...
No midnight dhamaakaas. No cake squashing or birthday bumps. No long line of presents. Definitely quiet.
Phew...
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| Salesman, make me a sale... |
[17 Nov 2004|02:34am] |
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mood |
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 awake |
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Sheetal Mallar in the Indigo Marina ad
Moushumi Udeshi in the Nescafe ad
Mila Jovovich in the Maybelline(?) ad
Go figure...
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Incidentally, Sean Penn has been a revelation... Mystic River, 21 Grams, I Am Sam and Dead Man Walking...
Yes, once all the hooplah has faded away, one can make that judgement for oneself...
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| Diwali happens every year... |
[11 Nov 2004|12:01am] |
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music |
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I'm no angel - Dido |
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Most nights, after dinner, I like to sit out on my balcony and watch the stars... Smoke a cigarette, reflect on the day.. Maybe go through a few pages of whichever book I happen to be reading at the time... Today, though, the Ahmedabad sky is thick with the smoke of innumerable firecrackers... And there's stars of a completely different kind in the sky...
Not better or worse... Just different...
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Three years back I was living in Bombay with my ex... Diwali that year was extra special... It was just the two of us and we did all our Diwali shopping together... We didn't have much money then, but we shopped... New clothes, a few books, some music, lamps... Lots of lamps... We'd lit up the whole house with them lamps... Later we had a few friends over for dinner... It was nice... Very nice...
This year I'm with my family... I haven't gone shopping, haven't bought a thing... Not for myself or for anyone... The house is choc-a-bloc with guests in the evening... For me though, strangely, it's a quiet year...
I stayed late at work, had dinner all alone while the family and guests were out in the lawn drinking and chatting away... I went out for some coffee, by myself... Watched some fireworks from my balcony... And in some time I'll be in bed, sleeping...
Not better or worse... Just different...
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| I do have something to say after all... |
[09 Nov 2004|11:51am] |
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mood |
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 cynical |
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What kind of an education system puts the future of a student at the mercy of one indivudual...? And what does it say about the faculty who judges a student by his/her attire, who he/she hangs out with rather than evaluate on the basis of the student's work/ academic performance...?
I am disgusted when I think of some of the younger faculty here at NID. Drunk on a power trip that comes from too much freedom and too little answerability...!
And young students, barely out of school, have to bear the brunt of it... Pathetic, really...
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| S'long |
[04 Nov 2004|01:21pm] |
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mood |
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 amused |
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I'm going to be back only when I have something to say...
Until then...
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| And they call it sweet sorrow... |
[01 Nov 2004|12:40pm] |
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mood |
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cynical |
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music |
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For Whom The Bells Toll - Metallica |
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Parting is utter torture. I do not see the rationale in meeting people, only to have them taken away, through death or circumstance. I know people who can tell themselves 'Such is the way of life' and move on. Good for them if they can. I can't.
Even memories remain, at best, bitter consolation...
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| A weekend laid waste...! |
[24 Oct 2004|04:43pm] |
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mood |
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exhausted |
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music |
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For Whom The Bells Toll - Metallica |
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I have a theory that says that all CMDs/ CEOs/ powers-that-be love scheduling important meetings on a sunday. This way their weekend is fucked (anyway... CMD/ CEO thing), but they get some sort of depraved, sadistic pleasure out of ruining it for everyone who's working for them as well...!
So that has been my weekend. In a nutshell.
On the bright side, though, I have the rest of today all to myself...
I think... :|
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| kis dh.uun me th.aa? mai.n chal diy.aa |
[19 Oct 2004|12:15pm] |
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mood |
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comfortable |
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music |
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boondei.n - Silk Route |
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rok.aa tere gehre
bikhre se b.aalo.n ne
uljhe saw.aalo.n ne
rok.aa th.aa y.aad aake
kuchh guzre s.aalo.n ne
tum th.ii bekhabar
mai.n to magar
d.uur chal.aa aay.aa
I love listening to this song when I'm at work... The Gulzaresque lyric and the easy melody go well together... It's a pity Silk Route didn't endure as a band...
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Point to ponder:
Call to code monkeys/ programming pundits/ application developers/ what-have-yous... It would be nice to have Devnagari script recognition for the Semagic client... It's tedious to type and read Hindi/ Urdu in the roman script... nahi...?
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| Shake a leg...! |
[18 Oct 2004|11:29am] |
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mood |
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sleepy and crappy and happy and zippy |
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It's that time of the year again...! Nine nights of staying awake; dancing through to the wee hours until my feet and back start to protest from all the torture hurled at them...!! The last four nights have been the first four nights of Navratri, and as McDonaldites would say- I'm lovin' it!
Grass is funny... Most times it's this thick, lush carpet; the feel of which against naked soles is like therapy... But try dancing barefoot on grass for 4 hours every night, four nights in a row... It feels like someone's been using sandpaper on your feet... My soles are raw and blistered and very, very sore... Ah! Well... 'Tis the price for pleasure...!
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The night of October 16th was nice... I would've probably said sublime, but I'll save that word for later...
~~
And it's monday morning today... I'm not particularly fond of monday mornings, seeing as they arrive, quite uninvited, on the heels of blissful sunday nights...!
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| When you're high, type... |
[14 Oct 2004|03:46am] |
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mood |
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 drunk |
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I hate playing games...! I hate people who play games with me... I've always been straightforward with everyone, no matter what.. Is it too much to ask the same of the people I care for...?
Just wondering...
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Edit:
Sober now. Missed work today. And I have no idea what all the tripe I wrote when I was drunk is supposed to mean...!!
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| Midnight Mania |
[12 Oct 2004|12:09am] |
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mood |
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awake |
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music |
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Hands Clean - Alanis Morissette |
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We'll fast forward to a few years later
And no one knows except the both of us
And I have honored your request for silence
And you've washed your hands clean of this
This woman can write...!
Of course, there's the bit about singing as well, isn't there...?
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| Now you see me, now you don't... Or something like that... |
[10 Oct 2004|11:59pm] |
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mood |
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 quixotic |
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music |
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Lonely is the Night - Billy Squier |
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woh jo hum mei.n tum mei.n kar.aar th.aa
tumhe y.aad ho ke na y.aad ho
~~
The transcience of life, when it hits me, always does so full in the face and takes me completely by surprise. Which is altogether strange, because life goes well out of it's way, time and again, to prove just how transient it can be. One would've thought I'd be used to it by now. Or, at least, better prepared.
Everything seems to be fleeting, at best. People, places, events; even memories aren't as enduring as they're made out to be.
I knew a person once. I knew her like I know the palm of my hand. Probably better. I certainly knew her better than she knew herself, and that's saying a lot. And everything we did together; every little thing that transpired between us seemed like it would last forever. And then we weren't together anymore. And we stopped meeting up, though we did take the time to talk over the phone sometimes. When it was convenient. Or when the pain of separation was thrown too sharply in relief to ignore. And each time we spoke I realised that I don't know her as well now as I did before. But little incidents, while brushing my teeth or making my breakfast would remind me of times I had spent with her. The memory still fresh enough to paint vivid pictures in my mind.
And gradually the frequency of our conversations dropped. And all we ever did was make polite small talk. And little things wouldn't remind me of her as often as they used to.
And eventually even that will cease. We'll stop talking altogether. And I'll probably even forget her number. And even the last vestige of her memory would leave my mind. It would probably be as if she had never existed, never been. Ever. Everything we did together wouldn't matter anymore. For better or worse.
Six years of my life, as if they had never been. After all six years are but a fleeting moment. Life is too long to hold in everything.
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| Right... |
[09 Oct 2004|09:40pm] |
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mood |
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 relaxed |
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music |
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Ballad in Plain D - Bob Dylan |
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Ah, my friends from the prison, they ask unto me,
"How good, how good does it feel to be free?"
And I answer them most mysteriously,
"Are birds free from the chains of the skyway?"
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| All over the place, actually... |
[09 Oct 2004|02:26am] |
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mood |
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wide awake |
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music |
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The Wicked Messenger - Bob Dylan |
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I'm not saying you treated me unkind
You coulda done better but I don't mind
You just kinda wasted my precious time
But don't think twice, it's alright !
Dylan at 2 am is smooth... I'll leave it to you to figure how a gravelly voice like Dylan's can sound smooth, but it does...
~~
And life has it's ups and downs... Sometimes far too many downs in a single day to be comfortable with... But one tries, and more often than not, one succeeds... To be comfortable, that is...
And whiz isn't quite the smooth operator he once was... It's either age catching up or too little action spread too thin...
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As I've said before, gumption; that's the important thing...
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