Silence

Veiled Existence

2011-11-09T03:22:00.002+05:30

There is only so much that one can know about somebody. The truth is that the picture is always incomplete. Add to that fact that we are all evolving everyday. What I believed yesterday might be a fairy tale today or what I will believe tomorrow might be even unknown to me today. But that should not be a surprise because how much do we even know ourselves. We try to complete our own picture everyday not for others but for ourselves.

And yet, every single day while going through our daily chores, meeting the same people we met yesterday, we keep thinking that we know them. We don't. We never will, just as they will never know us. It is common for most of us to complain from the very teenage days or sometimes even before that nobody understands. The opposite perspective is always lost: that we never understand anybody either. I could extend it further saying that even if I understood someone at that one moment of interaction we had, it was lost the very next moment because we evolve every single moment. May be the everyday effort to understand every single person around us is like the myth of Sisyphus: futile but still repeated.

Then again it is necessary at some level to understand a person so that you can interact. As a part of the society, that probably is the most important code of conduct that we follow. We try to complete the picture we have no idea about by our own whims and fancies and then when we have done so, we claim we have understood everyone. An illusion we create, nurture and defend for life. What can we do, after all to err is human.

Credits:

Inspiration for sketch

Random Things About Me

2011-11-03T03:41:00.000+05:30

DREAMER

You're a romantic in your outlook with a bit of taste for the exotic. You love feeling the sea breeze in your hair, sun on your skin... You always take the first dip. Your choice of drink shows you care about your health and make sure you're putting the right stuff in. When it comes to holidays you reckon they should always be indulgent - a very special treat and a chance to recharge your batteries in luxurious surrounding as well as spending quality time with family and friends.

THRILLER

As for the home you have an expressive personality with contemporary taste. You like to be surrounded by the precious possessions that define who you are. For kicks you like to be spoilt rotten. It's always so much fun opening gifts. nothing beats that kind of surprise.

BACK TO BASICS
When it comes to art you find beauty in the world around you. Nothing is more precious than natural treasures. As for music it's the soundtrack to your world. You're up to speed with downloading and your mp3 is always close by. Music helps you concentrate. you probably find it hard to ever switch it off. You're never happier than when you are snuggled up eyes shut. So whether you're worn out or just plain lazy lay back relax and catch up on some zzzzzs! When you think of freedom - the great outdoors spring to mind. Getting back to nature is a big draw. It's the perfect place to find peace and quiet.

THOUGHTFUL

You're an indulgent character and you treasure your possessions. You're a magpie; if it sparkles you just have to have it! For you friendship is all about being there for one another. You can't imagine life without your best friends. And they are the first place you go when you need some advice or a shoulder to cry on.

Well, not bad I would say.

Find you VisualDNA.

Everything fades...

2011-10-24T20:45:00.000+05:30

Everything fades.

The limpid layer of mist from night
The dusky glow of the morning light
The flowers that took so long to bloom
The paintings that adorned my room
The colors from the fabric I wore
The dolls, I used to adore
The words on my daily journal
The poems that I thought eternal
The friendships that we called forever
The dreams that we dreamed together
Money, love and all that we treasure
Food and wine, our means of pleasure

And thoughts of you that kept me awake
Everything but the dread of heartbreak...

Anki

24th Oct 2011

Credits:

Inspiration for sketch - Link (Please do not compare)

Inspiration for the lines - The fb status of a friend :)

One such evening

2011-10-15T03:32:00.001+05:30

It was only half past seven in the evening. On normal days, you could still hear the din of the street. The lively chatting of the workers packing for the day, the crowded buses returning people after their day's work, the incessant beeps of the impatient commuter, and even the footsteps of the innumerable pedestrians. This time of evening, on a weekday, was as busy as the morning hour when people just began their day of work. Yet, today one had to strain one's ears to hear the same sounds.

Not that the streets were empty but the crowd was missing. Only distant noise of passing vehicles could be heard. What was unmistakable was the occasional rumble in the sky. Neither threatening nor fearful but like a pompous notice of arrival. The ambiance was shadowy tending to sombre but not quite gloomy. The sky was overcast with dark clouds. The sun was already resting behind the horizon. And the empty sky was the cloud's playground. Their game was not violent or intense, only filled with not loud yet booming roar of thunder that were inter-spaced by the murmurs of the trees.

The night had started to arrive early today, but the stars were not yet out. Outside, the current time could easily be forgotten. Only the street lamps devotedly lighted up the open. If you had not known that the lights are typically switched off before midnight, you could easily confuse the hour to be quite late. The wind teased the trees mischievously as it traversed its unknown path and the trees in turn giggled and swayed. The lights and shadows from the synthetic illuminations from the nearby buildings gave the surrounding an unnatural glow that could hardly swallow the duskiness caused by the nature. Rather, the contrast gave it an undeserved prominence. The cold whiff of the wind tingled the skin. The chill could only graze the surface but the cool sensation was welcome after the past few days. A slight drizzle was bestowed temporarily. It would have gone almost unnoticed if the scent from the newly-wet ground had not filled up the air. The freshness from the balmy earth diffused impartially and for sometime you could smell the lushness of a beginning everywhere.

The air was still now, the trees silent. The clouds had returned the sky to the night, their game over. This was not their destination, just a hiatus. The stars have taken their positions and are now glowing undisputed. With the air undisturbed, the transient fragrance of freshness is also lost. Only the chill that brushed the skin remained, not as a tingle anymore but a memory, and a flicker of sureness that next time, it will rain.

Credit for photo

String of Pearls

2011-10-02T01:46:00.003+05:30

Ever wondered what keeps us going? Millions of people wake up everyday to go about their daily routine. What would happen if one fine morning everyone decides "that is it!" It's not really an uncommon question. Most of us have wondered about this, if not for personal reason then surely for professional reasons but have we really found the answer?

The question 'what motivates people' have puzzled corporates from the time of their initiations. Money which actually wins the voting by a large margin turns out to be wrong answer in several recent research. What then? Hope probably. But hope is so much futuristic. Something so uncertain. And why future? Why not past, something that has happened for certain.

Here, we are told, every organization, every strategy, every smallest activity begins with an objective that directs its course. Surely something like that happens with us all too. Except that we are not really always aware of that objective (except while filling up the forms). May be there is even a difference between what is and what we think. May be there is no objective, we just live in moments. Single moments that are strung like pearls in a string that we call our life. Perhaps it is memory that keeps the string intact. If we were to wake up one day with no memory of past, we would live each moment in itself, with neither fear, nor hope, nor regret. Each of these moments then will be a celebration because it will be first of its kind.

But then again, if celebrations are not remembered, are they any worth?

Lost Individuality

2011-09-21T21:17:00.002+05:30

Among many otherthings, we have developed the habit of grumbling. In fact I should say we havealmost perfected it by practicing it for all possible reasons in our andother lives. I have been trying to find one such area which none of us grumbleabout and I couldn't find it. Any help on the matter will be appreciated. Nowsince I said "we" I obviously included myself and so this post is notabout blaming anybody but rather it is about grumbling about grumbling.

Then, what is wrongwith us? Probably nothing but accepting that would end my post here and now andI am not quite ready to do that. Give me a chance , I don't bore you so oftenanymore! So I was thinking about it forcouple of days (Fine! Make it a couple of hours) and the reason stuck me allof a sudden when I was replying to a mail. And I realized that we keep grumblingabout everything because we take the easy way out. That doesn't sound veryprofound, does it? But it is not that simple. You might think that taking theeasy way out means grumbling and not doing anything about it and that sure ispart of it but its still incomplete. The thing is that even when we do anythingabout something, we still take the easy way out.

Now I have greatrespect for whoever came up with the idea of majority voting and democracy.Obviously there is currently no better way to have a government that solvesmost of our problems (at least that’s what theory suggests). But when you startapplying the 'majority' idea to everything else, it really isn't the best thingto do, certainly not with the current technology expertise and informationburst. Look at something as simple as education - our courses are designed whatthe majority of students prefer, electives are cancelled if a certain number of students do not subscribe to it,only those companies are called where majority of people want to go. Why haveengineering colleges mushroomed in our country - not because we need a lot of engineers butbecause majority of people want to become engineers. Some years down the line Iam probably going to say the exact same thing about management. It hardlymatters what the quality is. It hardly matters what percentage of them gowhere.

Now that’s not theend of it. Products are designed the same way. For example, why are mostproduct designed for right handers? One can argue talking about massproductions, manufacturing and industrial revolution. But lets face it, thatwas decades back and we have been through many more revolutions after that. Whydo we do it then? Because all of us including our policy makers and those hugecorporations that keep talking about how they cater to our 'needs' see us ascollective unit, as if we do not exist individually. There are other reasons,majority gives you credibility, number of fb likes, number of comments, thenumber of hits on a website, number of times a term is googled!

And that is exactlywhy every one of us follows the herd because that is what is expected from us.And then we complain that we do not think out-of-the-box. Sorry but we are notreally appreciated for that. Not that often at least. And by the time we realizethat, we are almost habituated to follow the herd. Now that brings me to thefirst point, why do we grumble? Because everyone else does that.

Heroism and Martyrdom

2011-08-20T12:30:00.000+05:30

When I took up the course for "Leadership: Inspiration, Dilemmas & Action", I hadn't realized what was in store. But with the end term over, I look back to a series of lectures that have rekindled my questioning. As part of the class presentation, groups had to take up sessions on given topics. Ours was "Heroism and Martyrdom" based on the book Saint Joan by George Bernard Shaw. The groups were given the creative freedom to decide how they wanted to present.The topic was chosen by us of course. Our choice was based two reasons, it was about Joan of Arc, and it was a little later in the term. The third reason that it was based on a book applied for all other topics.
We were a group of 6 girls and we had no idea what we were going to do. As the term proceeded, groups came up with good to great preparation for portraying the plots of the story. Play was the best and most appreciated way. There were movie and video clips too. By the time our turn approached, we were out of ideas. We knew that we were not good enough for a play in front of the class and movie was out of question because it had no creativity from our part. And that was when we came up with the idea of a shadow play - directed, acted, recorded, edited all complete with background music and live narration.

That the whole thing came out so well and was appreciated by everybody present felt really good, but the whole process was more fun. The nights we spent with a white bed sheet to locate a place where the shadows were dark enough to be recorded and failed! Then finding a wall without windows and doors, finding lights to project the right size of image, to place the camera in the right angle so that neither the video was distorted nor the real people got recorded, the covering windows in the room so that the light from street lamp outside did not spoil the shadows. The first scene took hours and by the end of it we were already exhausted but it was just the beginning. And once it was complete, the editing started. The narration was supposed to be live so we had to ensure that the scenes were of the right duration, there was selection of music based on the scenes. And then there was the narration, shrinking a 3 hour play to just 15 minutes without diluting the essence is not an easy feat! It was an unforgettable experience.

And all this for just a fourth of the entire presentation. The rest of the time was for the analysis and the efforts put there were certainly equal if not more. We looked at the history, the themes, Joan's personality, the topic of heroism and martyrdom, comparison with other leaders and then ended with class discussion. Unlike other sessions, ours was scheduled at night just before dinner but during the presentation, we knew food was not the first thought in most people's mind.

A special thanks to Nidhi, Gayatri, Priyanka, Sonal and Pragya for making it such an awesome experience!

My latest sketch

2011-08-20T02:55:00.000+05:30

Dreams never give up!

Morning Blues

2011-06-08T07:19:00.007+05:30

It is said that time flies. Usually I agree. And yet the last few days have been a challenge to watch the time pass. May be when they came up with the idea that anxiety dilates time, this is what they meant. They talked about fear but who knows if there are similar other feelings.They might have forgotten about boredom.
Morning sleep has never been a problem for me. Sleeping again after waking up in the wee hours of dawn has been what I may call my 'forte'. And my mom is sure to second that. Yet for the last few days that is exactly what has been a challenge to me. I wake up and I fail to fall asleep again. Let me clarify that I have nothing to do in the morning that might force me to wake up early. No office, no classes, no commitments to keep. I can wake up as late as I want but the 'can' part doesn't seem to work.

This in itself should not be a problem. I am a nature person and what better time to appreciate nature than the morning - a time when the sun has not yet spread its wrath. But the day fails to start in that note because the unfinished sleep lingers in the back of my mind. And as the day trudges, its presence becomes too conspicuous to ignore.And even as I eagerly wait for it to appear from behind the curtain, it continues to evade me.
By the time night arrives, the helpless waiting has transformed into a splitting headache and sleep has moved farther away. What follows is the expected pattern of my insomniac post except the snooze part.

[This post has been a draft for sometime.]

My Watchlist - Animation II

2011-05-31T16:57:00.003+05:30

Now those of you who read my last movies post (My Watchlist - Animation), took my suggestion and watched the last 5 movies then decided never to take my suggestion ever again, this list is for you. Basically it is a fun list with animations as you expect them to be.

I will start with Up. Amazing movie!!! This is a movie that tells you that neither romance nor adventure has anything to do with age. So those of you thought that in the coming years, age is going to be your excuse for shying away from either of these, it is time you found another excuse. And there is another thing that this movie says ... but if I tell you that there wouldn't be much left in the movie. So go find it yourself.

Talking of finding reminds me of another adventure - Finding Nemo. I already told its an adventure and the title tells the rest of the story - someone tries to find Nemo so Nemo must have got lost. No points for guessing this much. And the story has much more than that. It is a story of love, will and courage. And you can't miss those adorable expressions!

Talking about courage brings me to Monsters, Inc. This movie once again brings back memories from college days. Why do you think monsters scare us? Because they made their living that way until one fine day, the whole process turned topsy turvy. And that led to this movie. Imagine being one of them or imagine not being one of them. What then? Stop imagining, go watch the movie.

Do monsters make you imagine giants? Because that is what I am going to mention about next - The Iron Giant. But don't go by the name, there is nothing to be scared of. I mean there is a giant and he is made of iron but that doesn't mean it is scary. Exactly the movie's point! There is more but you better watch it yourself.

All this iron stuff remind me of Cars. I watched this movie long back in my college days and it left a quite a memory. I love the song that it ends with but before that, there is a whole lot of things love about this movie. If you are out there making it big for yourself, then this movie might teach you some important lessons. And let me repeat you can't miss those adorable expressions!

Happy Feet is yet another adorable movie. If you love to tap your feet, then you just must not miss this. No this is not hip hop movie with numbers on which you can dance (you sure can if you want to) but there is more to it. Have you ever felt that you were different? May be there is a reason for that. And if you haven't then may be watching this movie will make you realize differences really do matter but not the way most people think.

All you foodies out there, how would you like your favorite dish served? Would you like it falling from the sky? If you ask me, I wouldn't. But then again I am not a foodie :D. Cloudy with a chance of Meatballs is an interesting movie - firstly because someone came up with such an idea and secondly because it talks about being yourself. I know, its a cliche but the way the movie brings this out is worth appreciating.

Bee Movie is also on the same lines - i.e being yourself but it is about a bee. And all those people who are on the threshold of deciding what career to choose must must watch this.Whether or not it will help you is a different thing, but if you watch it after deciding your career, may be you would think if only you had seen it earlier. Why do that? Why not just watch it now!

I will leave you with How to train your dragon. Who doesn't want a pet dragon! I mean think about it you have a fire breathing flying beast who listens to you! What can be better? Well, at least in fantasy.

Happy watching! I hope you like them. :)

If you think I have missed your favorite animation, drop in a comment.

On a day like today

2011-05-30T08:20:00.003+05:30

Dear Silence,

Most of the time I love rains. And I have really cherished memories about them be it in the school days, college or work as must be evident from my numerous chats with you regarding rains. Although sometimes the muddy puddles in the middle of the road are a cause of too much inconvenience specially after rain has left. And yet the early morning drizzle like that of today often fills me with apprehension and gloom. If I wake up to rain, the most usual thing to do is to go back to sleep and wake up a little later hoping that I have successfully shortened the gloomy day to some extent. Unless commitments of the day render such a plan completely useless. In that case I just give in to my feelings.

Now that I think of it, there are also times when rain reminds me of crying. May be it is the result of reading too many quotes about 'crying in the rain' so that no one can see the tears. I wouldn't be surprised if I have told you this before (since we have chatted about rains so often) that in my childhood I often imagined rain to be the time of war in the world of gods (up there). Mostly because they were accompanied with frightening lightning and thunder. It might have also been the result of watching Ramayana and Mahabharata during that time. And I thought the falling rain was either blood shed during the war or the family of the warriors crying. But that was long long back and I don't know why this came to my mind all of a sudden.

So the thing that I wanted to tell you is that isn't it interesting how the same thing can give us completely two different feeling at different times? If it were evening I would have been rejoicing and smiling and yet just because it is early morning, it fills me up with apprehension. I wonder if something similar happens with everybody or do I just brood too much.

Love,

Anki

My Watch List - Animation

2011-05-28T02:51:00.002+05:30

This is not a movie review.

During my stay in K, I had the chance to watch a couple of movies. Animation was top in my list and luckily I found quite a lot of them. :) Here is a list (not in any particular order) of some interesting animated movies that I came across. Not all of these are watched in K but I remember most of them are. I will skip the usual favorites of Toy Story, Lion King, etc but I cannot skip Wall E.

Anybody with even the slightest interest in animation, must watch this. I could tell you the summary but why spoil the fun, and anyways IMDB is always there for that. So it is the story of a lonely robot who falls in love and then moves across the universe (literally to find her). Now that plot itself would melt the heart of any romantic but that is not all. The movie is also about us and how we will have destroyed the earth. It is also about technology taking over us and about hope. But most of all I love it because there is so so much expressed in the movie with the minimum words.Lets start with the lighter ones now.

What do you think of when you think of fairy tales? I will tell you what comes to my mind - the damsel in distress or waiting for her prince charming. Once upon a time, they used to fascinate me but it has been some time since I moved on from them. The Princess and the Frog, as the name suggests is a fairy tale but with a twist. So there is a frog and there is a princess and there is a kiss that changes the story altogether. On the same lines of a fairy tale with a twist is the movie Tangled. A remake of Rapunzel with magical moments (literally). In my childhood I used to have those picture books where the characters moved when you turned the pages (like greeting cards) and I had such a book on Rapunzel. That might explain my bias for this story.

The Tale Of Despereaux is a story of a mouse and a rat (the movie start by explaining how they are different). It is about breaking the rules and doing what is not expected. There is a lesson worth learning in the story and if you like Ratatouile for a reason other than the food, there are chances you will like this. Spirit - Stallion of Cimarron is a story of courage and love. When I say love, don't confine it to two people. You might want to watch the movie to know what I mean. The last in the 'lighter' list is Bolt. Imagine living in a make believe world which comes crashing down and you have no idea of distinguishing reality and imagination. What do you do then? Whom do you believe? Would you believe a stranger over those with whom you have lived your life?

Lets come to the heavier list now. The Illusionist also deals with make-believe life but in a different way. There was this line in the end which sums up reality in just 4 words. It may not be really a great movie, but see through it to understand why I have listed it here.

The next movie can be scary. It was on a lazy day that I picked up a comics from a friend's room. Among other things, it led me to the movie Coraline. No, the comics was not about the movie. The authors were same. The lesson is something that we hear often, - be careful what you wish for, it just might come true. But the portrayal is more important. I was scared to dream for sometime after watching this. Dream as in the dream that you do when you sleep.

Once while I was discussing movies with someone, I was advised not to watch Waking Life because I already think too much. So what did I do? I watched it right away :D This is also about dreams, more realistic. It is a series of disjointed dreams of a person in which there are a lot of discussions. If you enjoy intellectual discussions, this is a must watch movie.

9 is an interesting movie about 9 dolls that start with the lines "We had such potential. Such promise. But we squandered our gifts." We as in the human beings not the dolls are. After you watch the movie, you have to appreciate the thought and imagination that went behind it. I mean animation itself needs so much imagination and then to come out with a concept like this is not something that you might want to pass.

The last two movies Persepolis and Grave of Fireflies are both foreign and war related. I thank Mathew Sir for the last one. You might not like them because the ideas are not the kind that you expect in an animated movie. Grave of Fireflies is a gem of a movie and must watch. Even if you blame me afterwards, I wouldn't mind. Give it a go. I don't have much to write about them because words are not enough.

Disclaimer: I am not a movie buff. But I do watch movies and like/dislike them. But any post in which I talk about movie is to be read casually.

Haunting Words

2011-05-26T20:59:00.005+05:30

Do words haunt you too?

I know it sounds weird but I have been haunted by words for some time now. Now there are different kinds of words that haunt.There are words that someone else told you and you liked them so you keep remembering them and feel happy. Now that would be a 'good' words-ghost. But it could be the other way, something you didn't like, something that hurt you or shook you to the core, something that you never expected and you had no reply to those. Those words might make you feel angry or weak or betrayed or just sad. And each time you remember them, that feeling is renewed, may be even magnified. Now forgetting would be an apt way of solving the problem but memory is often treacherous and mostly too independent. So the next thing to is to set out to prove those words wrong to yourself if such a thing is possible. If not, then as they say, time is a great healer.

Then as one of my friends pointed out there are words that you have said to someone and probably regretted. Those words also haunt. The solution is to find that person and make amends but most of the time there are other things that prevent you from doing so - pride, ego, fear, lost relationship and sometimes absence of communication.

For someone who tries to read every written word that he has his eyes on, words from flyers, books, posters and even graffiti may turn into ghost-words. And as before there are good ghosts and bad ones. And this time I cannot think of a remedy.

Words from books and movies haunt me sometimes. At times I know the reason and it is easy to get used to them or to find a remedy and at times I have no idea why they keep haunting. I try talking about them to somebody just to get them out of my mind and most of the time it works. The problem is to find a person who would be willing to talk about some abstract set of words. That's were blogging helps. ;)

But there is a fourth type of ghost-words that haunt me and they come from nowhere. Literally nowhere. Some morning all of a sudden I will keep repeating some phrase in my mind. I try to fit them somewhere but they don't fit. I don't know why I remember them. I don't remember having heard or read them nor even telling them to anybody. I try to figure if I had written something like that somewhere (recently or even not so recently) and they are not there. It is so frustrating! It is like trying to find the someone's identity with no success.

The problem is if I don't know why or from where I got hold of them, I have no way to prevent them from haunting me. Not only I cannot do something about them myself but I cannot talk or blog about them either because they exist as just four little words! So what do I do then? Sometimes I write a poem and if I like the result then I thank them for haunting me. But poems don't come as easily these days as they used to. :(

PS: The words that are haunting me now for the last few days are "On a day like today".

Back to books

2011-05-17T23:40:00.004+05:30

If nothing else, this internship at least rekindled my first love.

So one day I was updating my bookshelf in Shelfari when the about me section suddenly caught my attention and from there four little words stared back at me "Reading keeps me sane" and with that all those moments flashed before my eyes when reading had actually kept me sane. If then, why not now. :) So I was back to books. What about blogging then? Blogging keeps me alive. Not the 'alive and breathing' but the 'alive and living'. So in short last one year I had been insanely dead. Not that I can disagree.

So what am I blogging today? Obviously its about books. And why? Because I came across this post - "And so read on" and I thought, its time I added another list. This time not just classics :)

So here is a list (in no particular order) of what I have been reading in the last month:

Vampire Diaries by LJ Smith
His Dark Materials by Philip Pullman
A Room with a View by EM Forster
The Invisible Man by HG Wells
The Wedding by Nichloas Sparks

Let me start with Vampire Diaries. It is series of 7 books and I read one after another in 5 days. It all started because I saw the TV series 1st season and then I didn't have the 2nd season to continue. (This is exactly how I read the Twilight series, I saw the movie and then I continued to read all the books in one weekend) Before I continue, let me clarify that the VD book series and the VD TV series are completely different even though the characters share same names. So if you liked Twilight series, you will in most probably like this although if you are the kind of person who compares stories you might find them similar in some instances. That being told, if you like fantasies then it might interest you just because of the imagination (just ignore the love story). And if you happen to continue reading after the first 3 books, here is the first thing you have to do - give up logic. If you don't then surely after the 7th book. I am waiting for the last 3 books that are yet to get published. But, but, but... if you are a serious reader with esoteric taste, then don't blame me if you read it.

His Dark Materials is a trilogy. You might have seen or heard about the movie "The Golden Compass", that is based on first book of the trilogy. Here is a book you must read. I first cam to know about this book because it had stirred up some kind of controversy among religious groups. Then I read about the book and also went to a bookstore to look for it. Then I watched the movie. But never had the time to start the books until now. You see, I wanted to finish the series in one go. Ok it is a book for the atheist and it talks about many worlds - the parallel world concept and an interesting war. And the protagonist is a 12 year old girl so its a totally different perspective. In short you should read.

A Room with a View - I saw the movie and came to know it is from a book, so got hold of the book and read it. Now for many of you, reading the book after the movie could be a boring thing for the simple reason that you already know what is going to happen. I, however, happen to believe that movies don't do justice to the books and so I try to read the related book even after watching the movie. Then, it was also a classic, so I had more than one reason. It is a good read with some deep thoughts and confusions of an young mind. It is a love story with very little love in it and a lot of Italy ;). Give it a go if new people or new places excite you.

The Invisible Man - No I haven't seen the movie. In fact I don't even know if there is a movie for it. I had seen it with a friend a little more than a year back and borrowed it to read but although I had started it, I could not finish it for this and that reasons. Now I don't know if it happens with you but sometimes half read books haunt me. Like there is this one book about holocaust, which was so frightening that I could not read it (some 8 years back) and now I don't even remember the title of the book but it haunts me that I haven't finished it and I cannot do anything because I don't remember the title. The Invisible Man also started haunting me when one day i was talking about supernatural powers with my friends and invisibility came in the conversation. So getting the opportunity, I completed it now and changed my idea about invisibility and also started doubting other supernatural powers. It is a sci fi, probably first of its kind, and if that doesn't make you read it, you better not.

The Wedding. I have been a Nicholas Sparks fan for sometime now. It started with The Notebook - the movie. The book came a little later. The A Walk to Remember - again the movie, then the book. Then came some of his other books (not the movies) A Bend in the Road, The Choice, The Rescue, At First Sight and now The Wedding. I like romantic books but there is one more reason why I like Sparks' books, they are written from different perspectives. Each of his book tell something new and they sound more real than others. The kind of thing that you can imagine happening to someone you know. It gives hope and understanding. The Wedding is Part 2 of The Notebook but they have just one character and one place in common. So you can read it even if you haven't read The Notebook. But if you have to choose between the two, I would suggest The Notebook anytime. (I have a personal weakness for that book). That being said, I wouldn't suggest you to read it if love stories do not interest you. NO. May be some other Sparks' book but not this.

What am I reading now? "Games People Play" by Eric Berne. Transactional Analysis, Psychology. I will tell about it more in some other post. If you like this post, keep checking, I will come up with more reading lists in future. The next one will be about the Indian authors I have read.

PS: The above list is not an adequate sample of my favorite books or genre. This is a list of the most recently read books.

Happy reading!!!

Slaughterhouse 5 - This is not a book review

2011-05-04T22:24:00.006+05:30

I looked up and then around. This wasn’t one of my favorite places to eat but this was one of those where I could sit alone unnoticed. It was perfect for getting lost. Firstly it was always crowded and noisy, then it was lighted dimly in the evening like it is now and most importantly it was such a vast area that there was no way one could see from one corner to another, no wonder no one cared. True, today was more crowded than usual and noisier than what I would have preferred. Even the lights were so dim that it strained my eyes to read. I was silently sitting in one of the edges where eyes don’t reach, and therefore the sound that made me look up was totally unexpected. Then I heard the voice:

“Sorry, I hadn’t noticed you. You don’t mind if I sit here, do you?”

And so I looked at him. He was dressed in formals, probably coming directly from office. Now why did I say office, he could have been a student. Well, almost. But students don’t roam around alone. So it was safe to assume he was working. He didn’t have any shopping bags so his purpose of coming here might have been same as mine. But he had a backpack which could hold a laptop. He had already pulled out the chair before he had ‘noticed’ me but he seemed to be waiting for my answer. I guess I didn’t have much choice. All other tables were occupied by groups of people; mine was the only one which was solo. And it was a table for four with ample space for two of us. So I shrugged and spoke out an almost unheard ‘no’, then got back to my reading.

He unloaded his backpack and placed it on the chair next to his. Looking at the careful handling, I assumed there was a laptop or at least something as important. So probably I was right about the work. Was he a software engineer? Not necessarily. Oh, who cares! Keeping his backpack on the chair, he moved to get his order or may be to order something. I would have to wait long for mine. I had deliberately ordered a dish that was going to take time. I was not in a hurry and wanted to spend some time alone. Well at least, that was the plan and I was still hoping that he wasn’t a ‘conversationalist’. Remembering one of my flight experiences, I shuddered. My co-passenger, a middle aged man found it interesting that a school going (he assumed like most people!) girl would be traveling on such a costly flight and that too alone. What might have started as an intention (or so it seemed) to comfort me (I suppose he assumed I had no experience of flight) had turned into my nightmare. His constant chattering didn’t let me read or sleep or even watch through the window. And while he talked about his life, career, how he was going to make big in his life and what opportunities I was missing by getting stuck in school or college or work or wherever I was, I hoped the flight would end sooner. At the end of it I was so relieved that as soon as I got up, I had already forgotten the face of the person, leave alone his entire history.

He was back at table by now. Soon, he opened his laptop and pored over the screen. Some nerd or loner! Oh well, look who is speaking or thinking! Surely I would have done the same thing if only laptops were easier to carry that book. That being said, I also don’t like opening my laptop in crowded places like this. Talking to strangers wasn’t one of my fortes and I avoided it unless it was absolutely necessary. Not that I was scared (most of the time) but I couldn’t see the point of the effort. Moreover, conversation is a two way activity and in one word, I am a ‘closed’ person. So I preferred to stay clear of strangers. This one on the contrary seemed exactly like me. A smile escaped my lips and rebuking myself, I concentrated in my book. By the time he was done with his food, I had already put down my book and was concentrating on my just-arrived order. That was the second time I heard his voice:

“You should read Slaughterhouse 5 by the same author if you liked this one.”

By the time I realized what had happened and made up my mind to reply, he had already packed his laptop and left. If my life was a fiction I would have met him again but real life has few advantages and so has memory.

PS: I haven’t read the book yet.

PPS: Part of this happened but not necessarily exactly as described. :)

Colored Vision

2011-05-02T19:43:00.003+05:30

If all like the colors that they are looking at, they would like others too.

Imagine a bunch of children at a fair. Now fairs are very colorful places with lots of people and lots of things to see. Suppose each of those children in the bunch has a different colored glass. Then of course, no two of them will agree on what color a particular thing is because they see it differently. What is green for one is blue for someone else or even red for another. Interesting don't you think? May be not because you already know that they have different colored glasses which perfectly explains their perspective but suppose this knowledge was not known, wouldn't it seem a very unlikely situation except perhaps if the children have learned their colors wrong.

I think any group of people are like those bunch of children each with an intrinsic colored glass for himself/herself.
Of course in this case they are not aware of the glasses. Each of them think that the way they look at the world is the only way to look at it. That certainly leads to disagreements and stereotyping or may be many other things that I cannot think of now. And when someone says "I don't like so and so", he/she is instantly pounced upon by others, even labelled as mad. If it is a notion that is very rare, one might start to doubt oneself too and make efforts to follow the crowd, change the color of his glasses without knowing what color to change to.

There are times when diversity is given importance, not adequately may be or not in a way that it should be. Not as something that is natural but rather treated as something special, something supernatural. I don't know if that works. If you ask someone to 'not think of a blue elephant', that will be the first image that comes to his mind, followed by a cross may be. So it really didn't work - the not thinking part, did it? So is there a different way?

I think accepting diversity can start only with ourselves. If we accept ourselves not as a part of the crowd but rather as a unique person with our own notion and dreams, then we can appreciate another person's difference. Only when we are proud of our differences, can we let others be proud of theirs. Only when we are ready to stand for the preservation of our individual traits, can we stand for others. So in my opinion we should start with us. We should learn to say "Isn't it great, I am different" instead of saying "Poor thing, he/she is different". Trust me, no one will disagree, in some way we all are different from each other. Wouldn't you say then if each of us like like being ourselves, we would like others to be themselves too?

On Chasing Dreams

2011-04-26T20:26:00.005+05:30

When I am done chasing everyone's dreams that I think are mine, will I chase mine?

Privileged are those who know what they want but blessed are those who know what they want and never had to rethink that. If I were to ask what is it that one wants from life or career, most of us will have an answer ready - money, fame, luxury and so on. Are we not limiting ourselves? There is so much more that we can get! Some of us will shy away, not sure if their dreams are worth sharing and important, some have never thought about it because there was always someone else who did the thinking and some only have a vague memory of where they had started. And yet when the so-often-asked question "Where do you see yourself 10 years from now" comes, we all have an answer.
A very similar answer. I sometimes wonder why even bother to ask when you know so well that we don't know and probably most of us don't care. Most of all, spare all the effort and read just one answer! Or may be they already do that. What is funny and probably interesting too is that in many ways we are taught to answer this question. No not the HOW to answer but the WHAT to answer. What to dream and what not to. It never comes from within us. Its someone else (doesn't really matter who) speaking through us. So are we mere mediums? We are so scared to express our dreams that somewhere we even stop thinking about them. What are we scared of? Failing, offending someone or making a fool of ourselves? Or may be dreaming.

Before you jump into conclusions, let me tell you I am not complaining. Unlike most of the people of my generation, I was given the chance to choose my dream. I will not say I chose wrongly because wrong and right are subjective. I do not regret because this is what I had wanted at that time. I could have chosen something else and then it could have been different. But I chose this because I thought this was my dream. May be it was not. Then what was? Now that is exactly the question where I stumble. I admire those who recognized their dreams and followed them, I am sorry for those who knew what their dreams were but did not follow them. But for people like me who misled themselves into believing what their dreams were, I have nothing to say. May be it is not too late for you to find your dream and chase it. But how will you know it is yours and not a borrowed dream. So I think that when I have exhausted all the borrowed dreams, may be I will come across mine, somewhere hidden in a dark corner. And although I do not regret leaving my footprints in all those places where I was not to be, I do wonder if at that time, I will have the strength to chase another dream and reach a place where I am supposed to be.

The first day

2011-04-22T17:08:00.006+05:30

Day 1

Writing Prompt: Everyone else was laughing.

Everyone else was laughing. I stood there in my place wondering what the joke was. The first day of school was never my favorite even though I had too many of them. Or may because I had too many of them. Those people who said “practice makes it perfect” had not considered first day of school. The string of my first days of school begins with a day when I had stood at the corridor of my school and cried as I watched my father walk away leaving me alone.
That was years ago. Such an action was never again justifiable, even though the reasons continue to remain the same. My stay in my last school was for one year, before that it was close to two years but there I attended less than half of my classes. For most of the time I was home schooled. I remembered neither my teachers nor my classmates. I did not even remember the number of students. This one looks promising. May be this was going to be the last first day of my school. But that did not mean that the initial efforts can be discounted. That my father is ‘almost’ a local celebrity in the school is not helping my cause either. My actions are monitored and magnified beyond recognition. Sadly they are often altered on the wrong side. I had a similar experience in my last school but at least there the alteration was on the correct side.

It took me few days before I knew everyone in my class by their face, a few weeks before I knew most of them by their names, a few more weeks before I stopped eating my lunch alone and a few months before I could laugh at their jokes. That my previous class had only a third of the students than in this one pushed the task a little away from simple. And truth be told, it took close to at least a year before I could find someone whom I could call a friend.

Interestingly, the most prominent part of my school memories consist of neither the lessons that has pulled me ahead but rather it’s those moments when I found myself alone or lost. The time when I was left alone outside because I disagreed with everyone else, the time when I was criticized in my back because someone thought I was given special treatment because of my celebrity status, the time when I was laughed at because... I don’t even remember the reasons anymore. Only the feelings remain, multiplied over time. But most of all, I remember the first days when I felt like a hunted deer, ready to be pounced upon. In some places, the sheer number of happy moments overcomes the embarrassment of the lonely ones. And this place was one of those. The stay in this school was my longest. This school also gave me most of my school memories and some of the most important people in my life. At times I feel grateful that I could cross all those first days because beyond that are my most precious treasures.

Years later when after my introduction, our physics sir quipped something witty, it was history repeating itself. Everyone else was laughing. I stood there in my place wondering what the joke was. The first day of school was never my favorite.

The Walk Home

2011-04-19T23:03:00.001+05:30

Day 0

Writing Prompt: Your mother

Your mother never told you to stay away from strangers. You grew up with them. She was never there to rebuke. Or was she? You look back for the last time and then walk away. The road ahead is dusty and deserted. ‘Destination does not matter, the journey does’ – those strangers always told you. And today you wonder if it is true. This lonely journey does not look promising but at least the destination is known. Or so you think. When was the first time when you had walked on this road? You don’t remember. Memories are not reliable anymore. Not with so many of them, not when you cannot distinguish memory from illusion, not when all your memories are of unfamiliar places and unknown faces. Your stomach rumbles. You squint your eyes to look at the sky. It was not noon yet but you will have to find food soon. The question is where. A distant noise lifts your spirit. May be the town is near but you are not sure. You have seen enough mirages in your life to think better. And although this is not a desert, you know that the mind has its own tricks. You walk on, lost in thoughts.

It was not difficult to wake up before the break of dawn. It was not difficult to leave all those people whom you had hardly known. Nor was it difficult to walk on an unknown journey. But it was difficult to follow the path to a destination. You feel a bounded by the knowledge. The freedom to change your course is lost. But is that true? Were you really free before this? Bound in a journey with a group of strangers who changed every day, where was freedom? With unknown destinations, only the paths were decided. And that too, you never knew by whom. You had followed them for all your life without questioning because you had never known another way existed. Then you met her. She had changed your life, not once, not twice but time and again. Each time you started a journey, she was there to ask you “Where?” and you had no answer. Had she asked today, you would have told where. You smile. Memory or illusion, for once, you don’t really care.

You stop. The town is here. The road is not deserted any more. You can see small houses clustered together. Somewhere in those cluster is your destination. You hear a voice beside you and turn your head. A small old lady asks you if you need anything to eat. You nod and walk into a small shop. The noise drowns your thoughts and dim light hurts your eyes but it brightens your heart to be among people again. How long has it been? You have lost track of time. In the beginning you had counted the nights, making sure you rested after sundown. But then you grew impatient and walked even after nightfall and then finally you stopped caring. Food is really good and you gobble up to you heart’s fill. Once your stomach and heard had their fill, you take out your only belongings, a newspaper and an old weathered photograph and spread them out on the table. On one small corner of the newspaper was an address. You show it to the old lady and ask her if she knew where it was. She strains her eyes, tries to read, mumbles something then calls someone to help you. He reads, nods with recognition, looks at the photograph, looks at you and tells that he will take you there. You are happy and unsure all at the same time.

The town is teeming with people. All of a sudden you felt lost in crowd. Walking along the side tracks you reach a small house. Your companion stops and looks at the house. The house looks abandoned. You look questioningly at your companion. He does not answer. You look down. It was time to return to the strangers. He tells you to walk with him. You follow him to a deserted path, walking below a string of trees, you reach a graveyard. He leaves you there and walks away. You stand there staring at your new found freedom.

And then when the night came down, the old lady comes and you walk home.

The Open Window

2011-04-17T21:08:00.002+05:30

A rumbling sound wakes me up. For a moment I am lost. Where am I? A second rumbling sound reminds me that it’s still summers in most other places but here. The rain whose thoughts had lulled me to sleep just a few hours back had woken me up with its angry shouting. Just above my bed is my cluttered table. A diary filled with notes lay open. On it are notes of my stay here. None of which captures my important thoughts, or at least thoughts that I will consider important a month from today. The travel book had its various pages folded by the corner and the pen was careless perched on the last page I had seen. It listed the places to stay. Planning my travel was one of the things that continued to keep me excited. Probably being ‘on-the-run’ kept my mind at peace. The window that noiselessly struggled to be free was beyond the table. I stretched my hands to open the window. It was closed in the middle of last night to keep the mosquitoes away. In my half-asleep state I had decided as long as I could really sleep, I did not care about the heat. No sooner did I open the window, the lights went off. It wasn’t dark yet, the somber light washed on my crumpled bed sheet. I stared out. The long lazy weekend that I had been dreading last week had come to an end. I was still alive and sane. Or so I thought. Does talking to myself count as being insane?

It was getting dark. The keys on my keyboard are not visible anymore except at the lightning flashes. Rain! What is it about rain that fascinates me? I stare out again. A strong lightning blinds me and a loud booming noise swallows the songs from my laptop. For a moment my heartbeat stops. And then I laugh. Wasn’t I just talking about fascinating rain! It’s the sounds. The sound of splashing rain drops, the drops pattering on the leaves, the wind swishing through the trees. It’s the memories. The memories of paper boats, of running under the rain, of holding hands, of waiting beneath a broken roof, of chasing time, of laughing with friends, of cycling through the rain, of reaching home drenched, of drowning my tears, of writing endlessly, and of so many other things. The thoughts are so overwhelming that rain never, never fails to steal my moments. Like it did for years and like it is doing even now.

It is really dark now. The window across my room is visible only if I strain my eyes. The rain has also calmed down. The lightning and thunder are far away and less frequent. I come out of my reverie, close my laptop and walk out of the room. The reception desk is empty. Outside the hallway, the door is still open. I stand at the door inhaling the scent of the drenched earth. The darkness had engulfed everything. Even the doors and windows of the guard room are closed tight. Contradicting all of them the window in my room flutters in freedom echoing my heart.

A walk to remember

2010-05-10T00:00:00.009+05:30

“The journey to a thousand miles begins with a single step.”
So does the journey of a lifetime!

It all started with that walk, at least for me.

It was the month of June, 24th June to be precise. The year was 2007. He dropped in to Bangalore for a quick visit (that is how I perceived till then.) You can't do much with much with your friends on an unplanned weekend. The options are pretty much the same - movies, shopping, museums/places to see in the city or just sit in the cafe and talk/gossip. If it is not a girl, the option of shopping gets almost cancelled unless of course you have something specific in mind. We had the whole day in hand - sitting in the cafe for the whole day - doesn’t make much sense. I was new in the city, didn't have much idea of where to go. So we opted for the first option - movie. It was a Sunday and actually I had already watched a movie the day before (with him) – “The Fantastic Four”. But still, a movie was the preferred choice. I had reasons -

I hadn’t seen a movie (other than on comp/TV) for a long time.
I was still a broke (it was my first month of job) and he was paying.
I was saved from one of the most dreaded activity - talking about me! Its not that I am bad at conversation, I just don't prefer initiating.
One movie would mean at least 3 hours taken care of. Then there is the time in the queue and the transport time (with the traffic). So I don't have to worry what to do the whole day!

But I wasn't that lucky actually. We didn't get tickets. I was hopeful considering the last day's luck. (I got to know later it had more to do with his 'skills' than luck) So we came out of the complex and started considering our options once again. If you ask me, at that precise moment I was wondering if there was a way I could just go home. I knew what was coming - the cafe thing! Oh no!

"Let's take a walk" - I blurted out. "May be we can walk home." It wasn’t a small distance. And I actually didn’t consider that ever. But it was a spontaneous action to evade sitting and talking. Walking is much more fun. He was reluctant. He considered for a few moments and asked if I was sure that I wanted to do that. I was persistent. It was probably his disbelief that made him agree. He was sure I wouldn't last even fifteen minutes. I was in my sports shoes; his footwear was actually unfavorable for such a task. I hadn't noticed. He could have told me. He didn’t. To my surprise we started. Yes, to my surprise! Although it was my suggestion, I was hoping he would disagree and try to convince me that it was a foolish idea. It was actually. Even I knew. But I still wanted to do it because it was so spontaneous and out of the normal things to do.

We didn't know the way. In fact I didn’t know and he wasn’t expected to know because it was his first visit to the city. So we walked randomly. He asked directions sometimes in the local dialect (he knew that because it was a part of his work). And we ended up walking in the worst parts of the city. You know the slum-kind of areas that are hidden from public view but still exist, those parts. We talked while walking. I was enjoying the conversation mostly so much that I failed to notice the surrounding areas. Or I noticed but they failed to make any impression. Occasionally he looked at me. Or may be he did it always, I noticed it occasionally. It is difficult to notice if you prefer not to look directly. I enjoyed his fleeting glances. Sometimes he will ask "Are you sure you still want to walk?" and I would reply back "Sure. I am fine. Are you ok?" He would say "of course". He wouldn’t say "Let’s take an auto" even if he wanted. Something to do with male ego I guess. I wouldn't budge, he wouldn't budge. So we walked. And we walked for a little more than three hours until we reached a main road and I found a place to sit. He said 'let's take an auto' and we did.

I enjoyed the walk, although probably it wasn't the kind that one enjoyed. Walking through the slum areas, past the drains, the dumping grounds, dodging the piles of garbage is not one of the activities one enjoys. I did not enjoy because of these rather I enjoyed in spite of all these. I enjoyed because of the company, because I was doing something spontaneous without any worries of what will happen (after a long time), because I was happy (and surprised) to see him agree to a foolish idea for my sake (or so I think), because I was enjoying his fleeting glances without looking directly at him and because it was fun to see him walk with me (it was my idea) even when it had turned out such a bad idea.

In fact it was only after the walk that I became comfortable in his presence, laughed and talked to him without inhibitions. In the end of the day when we parted, he said he wouldn't forget the walk, that it was a 'walk to remember'. I smiled knowing that for me it was much more than just a walk...

Happy birthday sweetheart. :)

And... it rained

2010-05-02T03:31:00.003+05:30

I glanced at the watch once again. It was getting late. I walked to the window, placed my face against the glass, cupped my eyes with hands and stared outside. The sky had darkened to another shade. The trees ruffled wildly. I couldn't hear it from this side of the glass but I could already make out the sounds in my mind. It almost felt like I was daring the clouds to rain before I left. Any other day, I would have left long ago. What was I waiting for today? I stepped back and looked at the watch again. There was no way I could finish the meeting before the phone rang. The phone was not important. It was a routine call that meant to remind me that I ought to leave. I walked to the cubicle of the concerned person with whom I had the meeting. He wasn't there, so I left a message for him about rescheduling the discussion, packed my bag and walked off.

May be if it were not a Friday, I would have left my laptop and walked back home without worrying about the dark clouds but Fridays are different. I signed out and reached to open the main glass door. A cold gust of wind struck my face and for a moment it took my breath away. It is on one of these days that I am glad that I decided to walk down to office everyday. The traffic was at its peak. The main road in front of my office was roaring with life or rather honking with life. The lights of the vehicles danced against the darkness that the clouds had enveloped the city in. The Leela continued to stand majestically above all the hustle bustle on the other side of the road. It was difficult to catch every aspect of one single moment. What did I miss, I had no idea. I looked up at the dark sky. There was nothing ominous about it but rather a feeling of celebration filled my heart. The wind was still blowing wildly and noisily - the noise rising with the roaring traffic. It was almost like they were competing against each other.

I took my usual way and walked down the foot-path. The familiar waft of freshly fried bhaajjis and roasted peanuts hit my stomach. They stood there everyday, but the weather today made it impossible for me to ignore them. Too lazy to open my backpack and find my wallet, I satisfied myself with the smells alone and continued to walk. When I reached the over-bridge, I looked down at the stretch of dancing lights on the road. I had always been awed by the sight. Stretching beyond the horizon the lights always looked like a parade of colorful stars, or may be reflection of the sky. But not today. Today the stars were not visible and so this stream of lights spoke for itself. I was still awed as I walked down the stairs and reached the familiar lane that reached the place that I called my home for now.

The sky growled once, and I looked up at the sky. It wouldn't be long. I increased my pace to reach my gate just as the first drop of rain fell on my face. Once beneath the roof of my room, I opened the windows to welcome the long awaited rain. The sound of the rain and the smell of the freshly wet ground intoxicated me. I looked out of the window. The flowers had already opened up to drink thier fill, the grass had soaked up to turn green and the leaves were dancing to the beats of the rain. What was it about first rain that I loved - it was too difficult to make one choice.

Give me rain, the sweet intoxication of the first shower of rain... and it will fill all my senses.

Reflection

2010-03-29T23:54:00.002+05:30

When I wrote this poem. It didn't have any title. It still doesn't. If any of you can suggest something then please do.

The purse she holds is too big
For her tiny hands
And her figure far too small for
The mirror where she stands
Yet, there she stands and looks
Intently at her image
And asks, "Mamma, don't I look now
Almost of your age?"
A smile flits across
Her mother's matured face
'My little child wants to
Step into her grown up days!'

---- ----- ----
She sits there beside her mother,
Stares herself at mirror
And with the same innocence as years before
Softly asks her
"Mother, why, of all things, do we
Have to finally all grow up?"
"Why", her mother replies back
"Is that not what you always wanted, my love?"
Silently she drops her eyes
Then looks somewhere away
And wonders why she wanted to
Grow up on that day!

-Anki
19/10/05

Addiction?!

2010-02-22T21:24:00.002+05:30

Monday morning
At the office

Swe: So how was weekend?

Me: I finished the book. The series actually that consisted of 4 books.

Swe: 4 books in 4 days?

Me: Hmm pretty much, I started on Wednesday night and finished on Sunday afternoon and there was office and outing on Thursday and Friday.

Swe: I stopped reading after college because I was getting addicted.

Me: May be I am getting too.

Swe: You already are!

Me: [thoughtful] May be...

I wonder if there is such a thing as reading addiction. When does an interest become a habit, a habit a hobby and a hobby an addiction? I don't quite remember why I started liking reading. During the early days of school it was more so because we had a separate period for library and issuing a book was a more or less mandatory and since I never disliked reading, I always finished them before returning. It is not really that the books I read all belonged to library. Books were something I could buy anytime - no questions asked. :) After Xth it wasn't mandatory but we still had the period and I still issued books and I still read them before returning. After XIIth it boiled down to availability and choice. But I didn't much though. I guess I just enough found books never to have really run short of them.

So why do I really liked reading? I don't know. May be they were easier to keep than friends while I moved around. May be they helped me look at the world in a different way, provided me a way to escape. May be there is no reason. May be I got it from my parents or my brother. I don't know why I started but I know why I continue even now.

It starts as an effort to distract myself from thinking something. Something that makes me furious or sad or confused or scared. Something that I don't want to think about, something that I don't want to talk about, something that I don't have control over, something that makes feel helpless or hopeless. Something that keeps me awake when I so badly want to sleep. Or may be starts as an effort to drown the silence when I don't have anything to think about. And so I pick up a book. A book where I can drown myself so completely that I do not hear the voice or the silence anymore. Somewhere the story-line catches my interest and I read for the story itself forgetting the reason why I had picked up the book. Sometimes one book is enough and sometimes I continue to another and one more till I have exhausted myself. Till I look beside me and find a pile of finished books. And then I don't have anymore books to read. And I try to find one more. Buy, borrow or simply re-read something from my collection.

So would you call it an addiction? I don't miss my office or food. Sleep, I might miss sometimes. Although I can't guarantee that I would have slept soundly if I had not been reading. Friends or society - whatever you want to call that I would have missed even without the book. Or so I think. So... am I addicted?

And yet I don't think I have read a lot of books. So how can I say that I am addicted? If your answer is yes, may be I should start taking reading a little more seriously - just to comply to your opinion.

Life of (a new) Pi

2010-02-03T18:43:00.002+05:30

As the world is moving towards a paper-free living, Idea came up with its new ad - 'the ped bachao ad'. And it makes more sense that Amazon should have tried to launch Kindle in India just a few months back. Although probably it did not click as expected.
And while iPad and Sony reader are yet to make way into the Indian Market, it seems India has come up with its own ebook reader - "Pi"

Read more here

The introductory price comes out to be 10k. You can pre-order it here for 999/-.
And in case you do can you please drop me the review after using it.

My brother bought a kindle long back (been more than a year now!) and ever since then I had been waiting for something like that to launch in India. And now finally the day has come.

But here is a list of my concerns:

Does not support internet. I think it should support the USB driven net connections.
Books are not part of the package. Will have to buy them separately. At least a few should have come with it.

That being said, it has some interesting features too

It supports Indian languages but I could not find any regional language book in the site. (May be I missed them)
Supports an array of formats like EPUB, PDF, EPUB, HTML, TXT, MOBI, DOC. So finding ebooks should not be a problem.
For all those music lovers, it supports a music library of MP3 and you can plug in the earphones while reading.
Says that battery life is 7 days. Now that is a lot of books for my kind of person!

And for any other specifications, please help yourself and find it on the net.

So now all said and done, I understand the concern of saving trees and hence a paper-less world but a book is still a book. What do you people think? How successful will Pi be?

Who Am I (Not)?

2010-02-02T21:00:00.001+05:30

In one writing exercise we were given 10 minutes to write on the topic "Who am I?". We were strictly prohibited to write our resume i.e. name, designations, academic qualification, in short any of those things that we (and all others) use to identify us. We were also told to be honest. I was in a fix. How do I define myself (honestly)?. After pondering for some time, I ended up writing about "Who I am Not" instead of "Who I am".

Here is what I wrote:

Often when I am asked who I am, I respond with a mechanical answer consisting of my name, qualification, designation, and such things. But then, I wonder, had my name been something different, would my identity have completely changed?

My earliest memories of my childhood are of different places. As my father hopped from place to place for his job, I found myself amidst different surroundings - from dusty lanes of the villages to the concrete jungles of cities. Somewhere during those journeys, I lost my regional identity and although I learned the language, custom and traditions of all places, I cannot identify myself from just one of them. No, my identity is not confined to one region or one state.

School and colleges bear the responsibility of shaping a person. It is there that one finds one's identity and yet, I would not say that doing an engineering course has made engineering my complete identity. My job takes up 8 hours of my day, sometimes more, but it is after that, that I search for myself in something different, in a book, in a poem, in a new language to learn, in a new idea that will complete the missing part of me.

My identity is still in the making and as it spreads, I find myself renewed everyday.

It so happened that my 'non-identity' turned out to be a good piece of writing.

College Chronicle I - The Skit Disaster

2010-01-16T20:10:00.002+05:30

It was our first year of the college.True to the traditions, we were done with the "intro" sessions with our seniors. Now was the time of "fuccha skit". Every year the "fuchhas" i.e. the first year-ites were supposed to present a skit. This was done branch wise, and the first prize was really coveted. A lot of preparations were needed. Ours was a branch that was always in the top. The year before it was first and so the same thing was expected from us as well.The branches with low girls:boys ratio (read as zero) went about trying to convince girls from other branches to join their skits. Ours was one of the luckier ones. We were 6 girls in a class of 28. (That I think was the highest ratio. Correct me if I am wrong.) We were strictly instructed not to entertain any such offers. "Okay Sir as you wish."

So one fine morning the entire branch (us "fucchas") and a few seniors assembled in the old building in front of the hall where this event was to take place on the D-Day and we had the our (for me the first and the last) auditions. We were given and character, dialogues and then told to carry out the role. Then on the basis of that we were given our final characters. I don't think there was anybody who did not have a role. One or two may be. So the audition did not have any rejections. All of us were accomodated in the skit. We were told the story. It was written by one of our seniors and I must say he must have given a lot of thought and time to come out with such a story which had everything from the "hoors" of heaven to the remake of sholay to the 'dance of fire' (or something like that, I am forgetting the term.). And then from then on, our mornings were no more fine. We had to wake up early (oh how i disliked that!) for the practices session, then we had our class. I don't remember but I think we had practice sessions after the afternoon classes also. By the end of the day we were not really left with either time or enthusiasm for anything else. There was the secrecy part that we had to take care of. Other branches should not be aware of our story and we had to make sure that there was no one else present during our practice session or else the place of practice was changed or the timing and so on. I don't think it was ever cancelled.

Once we were all comfortable with our characters (which I never was!), the costumes were decided. It really needed to be innovative and relevant to the character. Few characters had to have different costumes at different part of the skits and so on. You know the usual stuffs of skits. And then we had the music at appropriate places. It was really thought over. I know you all must be wondering what the story was but really, it was a little complicated and I am sure I wouldn't be doing justice to the story if I tried to narrate it here so... , in other words, I am not telling. What was my role? I was playing Basanti, in the 'remake of Sholay' part. The scene was the part were Gabbar says to me "jab tak tere pair chalenge, tab tak iski saanse chalengi" (I think that is how the dialogue was). And I had to dance (ohhh I disliked that part so so much. I lost the count of how many times I tried to change my role. I still wish they had changed my role!!!). And that was not the "dance of fire". Well anyways, I was never prepared for the dance or the role or the skit for that matter but I wasn't prepared for the disaster that was to come either. To tell you the truth I was doing okay when we practiced. It was never great, I am not really cut out to be great in a skit.

The D-Day came. All of us stood there nervous waiting for our part to come. (I am not sure about others bu I was certainly nervous). When my part came, the audio system failed. There was not dialogue, just a song in background and my dance. So finally there was no song, just my dance, and probably the audience yelling at the disaster (which I thankfully don't remember). After that I had another small part which I completed. And then coming out of the stage I broke down and cried. I still don't know why I cried. But a lot of people did try to console me and I finally did manage to stop my streaming eyes. At the end of all of it, we had photo sessions. I don't have the photo but I remember looking horrible with my face completely blotched because of the tears. I also remember having being given chocolate to compensate for the disaster. ;)

I never had the courage to face the crowd again after that

Btw we did win 2nd prize even after my disaster. And in case you are wondering the song to which I had to dance, it was ... "teri har ada sitam hai jaanlevaaa..." ah never mind if you haven't heard it before

The year has just begun...

2010-01-15T18:28:00.002+05:30

--- Random Thoughts ---

I am not a writer although I do aspire to become one, some day. I know I have a long way to go. I haven't really written much, just a couple of blogs posts. And yet I am not even sure whether I will call myself a writer after I have written a hundred stories or articles. How do I know? Once upon a time I was sure I could call myself a poet. Poems used to come easily to my pen. I could just sit anytime and write. Now I am not sure if I can still call myself a poet. Although yes, I have crossed the 100 barrier. It seems like such a long time today. But then how long is "really a long time"? After how much time can I say "I think I have lost that gift" or do we never lose it? Can I actually work on it so that I don't I lose it? I think I can and I should. At least give it a try. Thinking of those times makes me feel so..."old"?. It may not be the appropriate word but you know what I mean. Although just a few weeks back the lady at the parlor asked me if I tied my hair while going to school. "While going to school" ??? What do I answer to that? Should I have said "Sorry but I left school years back!" or may be I should have let her think whatever she thought. So the "old" I was talking about is not the old that we commonly say. You know "old" as in it was very long back, like my grandparents would say about their "old" times. You get it? Never mind!

A friend of mine, an acquaintance really accused me of collecting other's stories. He has been saying that for sometime. I don't mind really. I never actually tried too hard for it and I really don't know how much I have retained. But his accusation did give me something to think about. It is true that I have met so many people, I have heard, seen, and even been a part of so many stories. Why don't I just write them then? I don't know. I have been told that a writer's first story is about himself mostly. Something that he can relate to easily, something that he takes out of his own life. I don't think I will do that. Firstly because I won't really be fair to my character, I'll be too biased. Secondly it will be too hard for me to pick up the parts of my life which I want to write about. Thirdly I am not even sure, it will interest anybody. (Well, it certainly won't interest me because I already know all about it and must have gone about a hundred times through each event! ) So yes, writing about others would be easier, more interesting and perhaps better for me. Or so I think.

I have been thinking a lot actually. I tend to do that when I want to divert my mind from something, from the everyday routine or from the problem at hand of which I am not very sure of. It is in these times of thoughts that I get inspired to pick up a new hobby or renew an old one. Like last to last year I learned Spanish (and forgot by now) or last year I took up sketching (and am planning to do so again this year). May be this year I will do something else, get a dancing lesson or something like that or may be go for some writing workshops. I haven't thought yet or may be I have but I don't want to reveal as yet because I don't know if I will carry on the plan or not. Why do you think we make new year resolutions? Whats yours? Why do you think we break it? What then is mine? I did make a list actually. I haven't carried out even one yet. There is time. The year has just begun. What about those I made last year? I don't know. I really don't know if I had even made any resolutions last year. So this year I have written them down. At the end of the year I wouldn't be saying "I don't remember". So come December and I will let you know how many of them I could keep and how many I broke.

Oh well, did I wish you Happy New Year? The Year has just begun. I am not late yet :)

Happy New Year to all of you!!!

### Oh by the way this is my 100th post in this blog. ###

Just a poem

2009-11-24T02:10:00.012+05:30

Where does love begin?

Amidst the layers of one's
            Most treasured dreams
That each sleepless night
            Hopes to have seen
In the lanes of that
            Fabled forbidden land
Where each waking moment
            Dreamily longs to stand

In the forgotten corners
         Of the yearning heart
That has not yet learned
         How to stay apart
In the fathomless depths of
         The dreamer's eyes
Where reality and reverie
         Lovingly entwines

And where does love stay?

In hopes, that triumph
         Over everyday fears
In smiles, that mingle
         Thoughtlessly with tears
In trust, that bridges
         Far faraway miles
In strength, that forgives
         The agony of trials

In those moments of waiting
         That outshines even life
In those silent expressions
         That keep words alive
In that delicate strand
         That binds two souls
With no rhyme, no reason
         And no constraint that holds

Where then, does love end?

In the arid sands
         Of banal existence
Where dreams are lost
        And they make no sense
In the half alive lives
       Of lifeless mortals
Who imprison themselves
       Within the limits of walls

In smiles that once were,
        In hopes that never stayed
And in disbelieved dreams
        That with time ominously grayed.
In those thrown away trifles
        That once were treasured
Ends love - lost, forsaken
         Abandoned and withered.

- Anki
2:09 AM 11/24/2009

I published this poem, then removed it. I am publishing it again.

Past, Present or Future?

2009-11-18T03:02:00.002+05:30

Once upon a time, a very wise friend of mine declared with utter hopelessness that I live in past. She accused me of getting so busy trying to re-live my days of past that I forgot everything else. That day I almost questioned her but then kept silent considering she was wiser than me. The accusation did not really make me glad. I must have spent some good hours (you see, during those days I had ample time to waste) pondering on why she told that and if at all there was truth in it. I must have then wondered that considering what she is telling to be true, was I doing something wrong, and if there was a better way. If not then whether I would like to change (I am sure I must have had answered this particular question in negative). But anyways and after such analysis for hours, I must have forgotten the whole thing and reverted to my normal self i.e the self whom my friend accused of living in past. (You might wonder 'what was the use!'. I wonder that too.)

If I were told the same thing today, I wouldn't question anymore. I wouldn't even disagree. She was correct, although only 33.33%. You see, I live in past, present, future all at once! And trust me, there is no better way. :)

You could live in past entirely, analyzing every single moment of your life and waste away your present. But I don't do that because firstly I don't have such a great memory and secondly if I waste away my present, somewhere in my future all my past would get exhausted. What will I ponder upon after that?!
You could live in just the present, making the most of it, doing the best you can but then how you will you ever appreciate your best efforts if you never look back? You could completely ignore the future believing that if you took care of your present, the future will take care of itself. It might be true. I will not argue on that part. But tell me, where will you get all your dreams without living the future? And what a barren life that will be with no dreams to follow!

No thank you. I am quite comfortable living in past, present and future all at once. It gets a little hectic at times, and at moments I mix them all up but trust me what a life it is!

How do you live?

-Anki

#PS: Forgive my frequent not-so-meaningful, insane blogs. Currently this is one of those things that is keeping me sane. :)

"I am nobody!" and some more

2009-11-17T02:25:00.002+05:30

I shared with you all a few of my favorite lines few times before.

A few from collection
Some of my fav poems
Some lines

Here are a few more from Emily Dickinson
(Only the eight liners or less)

*     *    *    *      *      *

I had no time to hate, because
The grave would hinder me,
And life was not so ample I
Could finish enmity.

Nor had I time to love, but since
Some industry must be,
The little toil of love, I thought,
Was large enough for me.

*     *    *    *      *      *

You left me, sweet, two legacies,--
A legacy of love
A Heavenly Father would content,
Had He the offer of;

You left me boundaries of pain
Capacious as the sea,
Between eternity and time,
Your consciousness and me.

*     *    *    *      *      *

The sky is low, the clouds are mean,
A travelling flake of snow
Across a barn or through a rut
Debates if it will go.

A narrow wind complains all day
How some one treated him;
Nature, like us, is sometimes caught
Without her diadem.

*     *    *    *      *      *

If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.

*     *    *    *      *      *

For each ecstatic instant
We must an anguish pay
In keen and quivering ratio
To the ecstasy.

For each beloved hour
Sharp pittances of years,
Bitter contested farthings
And coffers heaped with tears.

*     *    *    *      *      *

My favorite still remains

I'm nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there's a pair of us - don't tell!
They'd banish us, you know!

How dreary to be somebody!
How public like a frog
To tell one's name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!

*     *    *    *      *      *

Enjoy!

Mind Mélange

2009-11-16T03:51:00.002+05:30

The Road (not)Taken

2009-11-15T03:00:00.006+05:30

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
...
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
two roads diverged in a wood, and I --
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

"The Road not Taken" by Robert Frost. He wasn't probably talking about just one choice he made.

In fact, I think, it is at every moment of our life that we are faced with a set of choices. Sometimes we make those choices willingly, sometimes knowingly but unwillingly and sometimes unknowingly. What we forget is that those choices we made willingly, unwillingly or unknowingly do make 'all the difference' in our life. It is not chance really, it is all about choices. The job, the place, the career, the time we spend, the friends we make, the foes that we gather, the love of our life or even all those things that we hate, in short everything about our life is made of our choices.

And yet, we always find ourselves cribbing, crying, complaining. Is that because we never realized while making those choices that we will have to live them too? Did we never realize that we design our own life? May be we never made them, may be we did not design our life. It feels a little demeaning probably, to take the credit of everything that went wrong in our life. It is easier to blame somebody - the system, our family, other people, boss, company, if no one else then God or Fate. Whatever you call it!

We are never taught to do that. Take credit that is. Probably it will be too much if people started taking credit for everything that went right as well. Where will rest of the people hide their lives then? And hence we do neither. We live a life in which our choices are m by others (not necessarily people whom we know). And then we cry, crib, carry on, accept, forget, and finally die. Easy life. Tried and tested for ages. No qualms.

There was a line is the movie Take the Lead: "I look around this room and all I see is choices - choices waiting to be made."

We stand at different points of our life and cry, "What else can I do! This is fate. This is how I am supposed to live". We close our eyes to all those choices waiting to be made. We forget what we have in our hands - our ability to decide for ourselves. It is difficult to say what makes us close our eyes - the dread of the unknown or the love of the known. May be neither. How do we then sit in cubicles and decide for our clients, our juniors, our friends, our family but cannot decide for ourselves? It doesn't matter how small or big the choice is - the food, the job, our career, whether to fall in love or not, whom to fall in love with, whom to marry, how to live or rather how to die...

After all if something goes wrong, there should be someone to blame! Why take the risk! Isn't it?

And it is morning already!

2009-11-13T02:28:00.005+05:30

Insomnia is a wonderful thing for someone who knows how to utilize those extra hours. Not really for people like me who realize that there were a few extra hours at hand only after having wasted them.

Every night like a good girl I go to sleep at a normal hour (or rather an hour that I consider normal). Needless to say, in spite of that after some few good half hours, I still find myself staring at the black void of night. The moment I realize that I am still awake, various thoughts emerge from the same void that I was staring at. The thoughts vary - my office work, something I was reading, the last phone call, the book I was planning to read, will I have headache next day, will I reach office in time, what will I miss if I do not, when did I sleep last time, my next blog (it is altogether a different thing that I might never write it)... rewind... events from some 5-10 yrs back... fast forward ... something about the future. No wonder after some pondering, I sit up, switch on the light, boot up my laptop, connect to the internet. Internet is a wonderful thing, no? Sit back and the entire world at your finger tips. Read, watch, listen, chat and get lost.

But sometimes that is not enough. And during those times, I play that one single song (which has recently caught my attention) in repeat mode, pick that half read book and try to drown myself. If it is interesting (if it were really interesting, it wouldn't have been half read) then probably those thoughts will leave me alone for a while but not really for a long time. And soon they are back each one trying hard to get my attention. And I am still staring, my eyes wide open. Where does sleep go!

A few hours later, the sky has started to uncover itself from the shroud of darkness. The sun is almost up. People who have an early start have already woken up. I can hear the noises in the streets. The car that is kept outside my window is getting washed. And I am still wide awake. A glance at the watch frightens me. I stop the music or may be let it play. Set a realistic (but not late) alarm and go back to sleep. I keep the lights on, may be that will help.

"Oh please please get me some sleep. I didn't even sleep after coming back from office. Why am I not asleep! I should have done something more productive than simply staring. I should have blogged. I haven't blogged for like an year. I should have finished that book. It has been with me for months. That last book I read xyz wasn't that good. Wonder for what it got the award. May be I am not good enough for it. Oh well but I liked the other one. I can read it all over again. I have that thing to finish tomorrow. I hope so-and-so turns up or else it will get delayed. I had a meeting. Did I have to prepare something for that? May be not. I have those bills to pay. When is the last date? And I had to go to bank. I forgot again. May be this Saturday. I will wake up early. Oh but I have to go somewhere else that day. May be next then. I had some other work also, I am forgetting. Did I get the tickets. Oh I haven't booked my return tickets yet. Tomorrow first thing. I won't get them otherwise. I didn't call Mom today. She will be worried. And I had to call that person. But the office is closed tomorrow. I should really set reminders for all these. I am kind of hungry. May be I should get up and eat something. But I won't get any sleep after that. Not that I am getting any even now. I wonder if I was like this in my schooldays. No I slept a lot those days. Actually I still do. Sometimes. Why not now :( It is raining outside. I love the sound of rains :) May be I should go outside and feel the rain. Let me make a paper boat. No let me not get up. Tomorrow... I should stop behaving like a kid. May be a few more years... Where was I? No I should stop thinking now. How does one do that? Stop thinking that is... Oh no! Today was 12th. I forgot to wish! She is going to kill me. There is one more coming this month... and then there was that.. what was it? I should have completed those.. I haven't been studying for days... may be tomorrow... "

And then the alarm rings.

"Oh is it morning already...Oh so I did sleep finally. Nice!"

Snooze.
"Just 5 more minutes".

Zzzzzz Zzzzz zzzz

"Whats the time?" A glance at the mobile. "OH NO!!! I am LATE!!!"

Good Morning ;)

Return of... "me" - the poet ;)

2009-10-09T23:58:00.001+05:30

Dear fellow bloggers and/or readers,
(especially those who have continued to come inspite of my not-blogging phases)

Remember the time, when this blog used to have my poems? For some reason (which i have given long ago) I had removed them all. BUT, the good news is that they are back. :)
And I have (hopefully by the time you read this, I would have) updated the "Creations" section for you to find them easily. :)

So drop in, read, enjoy and don't forget to leave your comments. (Good/Bad/Ugly, everything is welcome)

BTW the latest one is Flashback

#Return of the blogger!! :D

-Anki

Spread those wings, up and away...

2009-10-05T02:02:00.000+05:30

The wind is gusty
The night is nigh
And I wonder if I may,
Spread my wings and fly!!!

The weather here has finally changed to the typical 'this-city' weather. The days are not scorching, the nights are cool, and the wind is blowing. One morning when I started my usual walk to office, the gust of the wind suddenly brought back those same feelings that I had when I first landed in this city.
Those mornings I used to walk just for this one reason - the wind on my face. And whenever I was asked whether I liked the new place, I had just one reply - "I looove the weather!".

May be over the time, I got used to it. Or may be global warming is responsible for the change in weather here. Or may be I changed my routine... or may be there are some reasons. But somewhere because of none or more of these reasons, those feelings deserted me on my way. (Why do we get used to the things we like!)

Well, so the gust of wind I was talking about, it brought a lot of other memories than just the first days here. It brought those sweet-sour memories from before I came here - the college days.There is so much - the trips to CL, the dinners, the last minute plans and how can I forget to mention the trips to nowhere .. When we used to speed in those roads (before reaching or after crossing Lanka of course!), I used to tilt my head, close my eyes and just feel the wind. When the breeze flapped the loose ends of my apparel, I used to wonder, if that is how it would have felt had I spread my wings and flown.

(#May be it is a good thing I am not a bird, I would have fallen dead by so much flying!)
[There is one person who is responsible for all those moments. And this post is dedicated to that person and those moments. Thanks for these memories, I hope you remember them too :)]

Happy flying! ;)

A Reply ...

2009-09-17T23:29:00.004+05:30

I read this poem on someone's blog: "an ODE to LOVE. . . from FRIENDSHIP" and after a long time (around 6 months!!!! my longest gap ever) wrote a poem in reply to this. I haven't taken permission from the author but since I am giving him all due credits and also the link to his blog, I am hoping he will not mind.

If you really want to enjoy the poem below, I suggest you go and read the above first.

Here is the reply:

In reply to an Ode to Love

To Friendship,

You waited and waited all these days,
In my heart to find your place,
Hoping one day, to fall into me ?
I was walking beside, you did not see.

You looked for falling stars at night.
Did you not see the stars that shined?
You say I belong to a chosen few
But then, did I not belong to you?

They warned you about the way I strike
You say you did not put up a fight
Did your belief in me not stagger-
That instance they painted me with dagger?

You believed them with so much ease
As they told you, what they pleased
And you realised I was not your friend
Tell me, who brought this friendship's end?

The life's mysteries that you talk about
Are what we both together bring out
It was never about you or me
It was 'us', you fail to see.

Don't you see there is a river betwixt
It is in there that life exists
We are but the banks of that river
We stay apart and yet move together

If you are not there, I cannot be
So are you, incomplete without me.
And yet we are not the one and the same
We are different shades with different name.
If I were to mingle into you or you to me,
Who will hold the stream that we carry?
How will the river reach its sea?
If you were to converge and merge with me?

Yes, we are each a different strand
I hope some day you will understand
In spite of being so much similar
Why is it that we are so far.
Who will hold those who get lost from me
If you are not there to take care and see?
Who will heal those who had to drift
Because they could not bear my gift

No, we are not one, we can never be
But still we are bound till eternity.

From Love

17th Sept 2009

PS: I had removed all my poems from my blog and had stopped posting them too but since this poem is a result of my visit to fellow blogger's space, this poem belongs to the blogworld :)

PPS: I don't know the blogger who wrote the other poem. So my poem is impersonal, unbiased and written only as a reply to that poem.

And so read on...

2009-08-26T01:35:00.009+05:30

"Fact is stranger than fiction" and yet, we readily accept the facts of newspaper but have hard time believing the fictions of books.

Well, that was not what I am going to write though. :)
I was on a classic reading spree for sometime. It broke because a speed-breaker completely toppled me and I found myself fallen on my face! So while I was on my classic reading spree, I read some unusual classics and I thought I might as well compile a list of those books (together with some I read before) for those few people who still come and peek in my blog :D

Ok, so here it goes in no particular order:

1984 by George Orwell.
Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde
The Mayor of Casterbridge by Thomas Hardy
Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky
Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
Love in the time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marqez
Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov
Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy
Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell

Now, I have seen that it is quite difficult to find a classic lover and usually they will still fall into various categories. So if you find classics tiring, slow-paced or tedious, I will still say, you try reading the first 3. Although, 1984 and Brave New world are almost on the same line.

Science fiction lovers, "Brave New world" and "1984" is just the kind of book you might like. They are classics so don't expect too much of modernity and of course, keep in mind the the era in which they were written. (There aren't any aliens btw so if you are looking for that, I suggest go somewhere else :D)

For people who like reading about unreal things, "The Picture of Dorian Gray" is a must, must, must! For me, it was an eye opener. If you haven't read this, you have no idea what a classic can be. And forget about the plot. Each of its sentence has so much depth that you can keep pondering upon it.

Lets see now... if you are one of those who like the female oriented classic sort of book then you will prefer "Jane Eyre", "Pride and Prejudice" or "Gone with the Wind". These are usually favorites among girls. "JE" was my first classic, so obviously it holds a special place :). In case of "P&P" and "GwtW", the main characters Lizzy and Scarlett have made the books special for me.
But then GwtW has a lot more. If War interests you, if you are curious to know about how wars have changed lives, "Gone with the wind" might interest you.

For all those people who have interests in psychology, "Lolita", "Crime and Punishment" and "Love in the time of Cholera" are sure to give you some new insights. However be warned, they can be slow. And especially for Lolita, I would suggest you read the plot first, it isn't the kind that triggers good feelings. "Love in the time of Cholera" - well actually it is a lot about love and cholera and once you read it, you wouldn't know where one ends and the other begins. No not the usual mushy-mushy love story. For "Crime and Punishment", the title suggests a lot. Existentialism readers, "Crime and Punishment" is the book for you. Go read the mind of person on how he justifies his actions.

That leaves us with "Anna Karenina" and "The Mayor of Casterbridge". You might call them typical classics.

Actually I read "The Mayor of Casterbridge" and "Far from madding crowd" one after the another and for some reason the first one caught my fancy. May be because the plot was a little different or the pace was a little faster. It is set on the rustic surroundings of a village and tells the story of ... well if you are so much interested, go and read the book!

Personally "Anna Karenina" is not one of my favorites. And if you have never read classics, I will suggest, you do not start with it. Let me tell you the reasons - firstly it is huge, close to 800 pages and slow. By the time you reach the end, you might have forgotten how it had started. No seriously! Secondly it has too many characters and somewhere in between the main focus changes from one character to another. So basically you might forget about whom you were reading. Thirdly, there are too many stories. You have to keep count. Fourthly, after all these, if you manage to finish it, you might not like the ending. I mean I did not find the end worth all the efforts :(

Inspite of all these, it is a masterpiece. You might want to read and know why. (Like I did :D)
I think, the character sketching is amazing. The way each of the characters develop with each situation. Nowhere, you will think the changes to be abrupt inspite of the fact that the characters actually undergo great changes. Ok, I told that it has a lot of stories bound together. But the binding part is quite good. In a way it feels likes you are watching a real life story and not a fiction. And probably the end part was more on the expected lines of the then society so I should not complain. Now I am leaving the choice to you.

I guess that should do for today. :)
Huge list and too many reasons. If you ever happen to read a classic, do let me know what you thought about it and why.

Happy reading

Through the Kaleidoscope

2009-08-04T12:09:00.003+05:30

In my two decades of life, I had the chance to live in various places of my country. I have run in the dusty lanes of villages, lost in the maze of old towns and found my ways in the busy traffic of cities. I have grown up amidst people of different languages, religions, cultures, and states. No, I do not claim to know all of real India but I did have a glimpse of it. Thus, when I shifted to Bangalore for my job, I did not quite understand the problem that my ‘north Indian’ friends faced – the uncomfortable feeling of having to hear people around you speak a language you do not understand.

True, there were instances of differentiation and moments when I was confused but ultimately I was always fascinated to hear so many languages in the same place, each flourishing by its own right. Think of all the dead languages! Indians have done quite a job to have preserved so many of them. And it is not just about the languages, there is so much more to see, learn and experience. I envy all those people who have travelled all over India, tasted each regional cuisine, learned those languages, and seen the cultures from close quarters. In comparison, my bit is a miniscule.

Naturally, the incident in Maharashtra shook my entire belief on the ‘unity in diversity’ of my country. Most of us who have travelled to a different state for the sake of our career would at least wince at the thought of being discriminated and treated likewise. If we react to such a thing happening in a different country with anger, then a similar situation in our own country must have instigated a much stronger reaction. Once, in a lunchtime discussion, a colleague pointed out that this was expected. To quote him verbatim – “Who told them to leave their states and go to Maharashtra?” The person himself was from Maharashtra working in Bangalore. I wonder, if that was his belief, why he is working here.

But then, is it justified that we refrain from experiencing the rich diversity of our own country in fear of some narrow-minded hooligans. And by doing so, are we not helping them in their nasty endeavors? But, the problem is not just the absence of assimilation but also the presence of isolation. We as a set of people are not ready to adjust to the culture of some other set of people, both in our own and a different state. To adjust is not to give up your own culture but to enjoy your own set of rules and let others enjoy theirs.

In today’s world of Globalization, the need is to understand that diverse cultures can and should co-exist. It is diversity that opens up new opportunities, ideas and solutions. It ‘highlights’ our uniqueness and curbs the monotony of the world. After all, the colors in a kaleidoscope are much more pleasant to view than the white-washed wall.

Note: This is a brief version of the original write-up. The original write-up had more than 1000 words and filled with personal experiences. I had to reduce it to half. :(. I may edit this one in future to upgrade it to the original version :D

Small updates

2009-06-09T22:44:00.008+05:30

I know, I know, I know. I know what you all have to say. I really have abandoned my blog!

Small update 1: I am going HOME :)
That will be after 6 months. It is not much may be but trust me it feels like years. So end of next week, I will be on my way. And this time it will be a long train journey to home. Frankly though, there is something about train journeys that I had been missing. It replaces the hurried moments of everyday with a lazy lingering essence. Especially when the journey extends from one day to another. Then again the journey in itself could give some mighty memorable moments.

All in all I am looking forward to it. And I have a lot to finish before that at my office as well as home.

Small update 2: I am shifting apartment (if i can call it so). That too as soon as I return. So I will have to finish all my packing before that. Now if you thought I don't have lot of things to pack. You are right. Except that I seem to have collected a good number of books.

This is how it was a year back. If I have added even half of this in rest of the time, you will realize I am not joking.
(In case you are wondering, no, I haven't read all of them. There are one or two that I have saved for dry spells. )

And of course there are clutters that I have to go through and decide which are the ones that I should keep. Now I understand why my Dad always insisted on me to go through my stuffs each time before we shifted. I always did. It is altogether a different thing that I never threw away anything :D. I can find long-lost-half-written-mostly-forgotten scribblings even today somewhere among them even though we have shifted 8-9 times. (I must be exaggerating! #Note to self: Ask Dad how many times we have shifted# ).

I guess that is all the update that I have. Hopefully I will have something more to write when I return.

Ciao

My idea of holidays

2009-04-07T22:27:00.005+05:30

I like travelling although over the years the frequency has dwindled but given an opportunity I will be almost always ready. It was recently while talking to someone I was asked "So what are the places you would like to visit?" and I was stumped, in a way because there are so many. I thought I could categorise them and list a few. So here are those that made to the top of the list in random order:

Sea Beach: Any clean pristine beach with not a lot of crowd, rocky or sandy. For a moment, close your eyes, imagine a beach, what is it that comes to your mind? Is it breeze, or the waves, the sound perhaps, or the sun, may be the sand-castle? For me first and foremost, it is the sound of the breaking waves, the waves rising, falling and splashing. Sea beach has been my most common retreat. I have lot of memories from them and yet I crave for more.
Andaman: It was a long time ago when I was in school that classmate once brought a coral back from his holiday. He had gone gone to Andaman. I have heard a lot about the island, 'Kala Pani'. May be it has little to do with the history, location, the idea of it being a separate island altogether and the its natural beauty that I have heard/read so often. Somewhere in the same category even Lakswadeep comes.
Kerala: It is the lush green picture that invites me to it over and over again. I haven't been there althoughI have been planning for I don't know how long. It is the longing for its untouched pristine beaches that I have always heard of. It is the nature ultimately that calls me to it.
Hill stations: I have fascinated by the idea of watching a snowfall always. I got the opportunity when I went to Rohtang two years back. And somehow, snowfall still fascinates me. The idea of making a snowman. Watching the snowflakes may be even catching them. It is told that each snowflske is unique in its crystal formation. I would really like to see that. Think of all the patterns!! Brrrrrrr its cold but its fun too!
Trekking: People look at me and wonder I wouldn't survive a trekking trail. I will tell "at least give me chance" I haven't done much but the ones I did actually surprised a few people and myself too. There is something great about walking the trail of nature, of letting nature lead you. Give me a place that isn't too hot, where sun is not burning me, where the road is natural, where I can look around and express a sense of wonder and amazement, where there are not too many people blocking my view, and I am with someone who can tolerate my constant chatter, trust me, I can walk the way. :)
Cruise: Ok so I have already told that I like the sea. But I have never been in a ship, so I don't know how well I will take it. Well, but I wouldn't know unless I do. So it is one of my 'things-to-do'. However another point to note is I don't know. I also think I would be a bad match for the sea even if I knew, so it hardly matters.
Fishing: It is not just the idea of fishing. It is actually the entire pictue of a place where the river is flowing close by, there are trees which I can try climbing. Sitting beneath one of the shady tree, I am trying my hand on fishing and reading a book. The weather is cool, soft breeze blows, may be I even nod off somewhere in between. And at the end of the day, I can cook a fish that I caught. Now that would be a perfect holiday :)

Crumpled

2008-10-31T22:51:00.003+05:30

I cleaned my room for diwali and wrote this...

Crumpled up sheets of paper
A heap of mess, in a corner
Where the dustbin used to be.
They did not make to where they should be.

Some notes, some words written
Some illegible marks of pen
Now faded and worn with time.
They used to be a part of dreams of mine.

A blank sheet kept somwhere
Taken out and spread with care
A pen, some words, a new note
Another piece of rhyme on which to dote

A morning, the sun, a day
The blank sheet, "Today"
Myself, my time, my day
That, which'll be tommorrw, kept away.

I guess time is a recurring theme.

Star Gazing

2008-10-24T13:02:00.004+05:30

I probably started star gazing at the age of 5-6 yrs. We were in Tripura then. The evenings used to have some frequent power cuts, and the entire school (It was a JNV) used to sit in the playground. It was during those times that the glittering sky caught my attention (as far as my memory goes). We used to count the stars. :) I was introduced to constellations, two of which remained with me from then - the Big Dip (or the Great Bear) and Orion.

The activity was lost after I left that place, grew up and changed so may places. But sometimes when I walk in the evening or the sky peeps at me, I look for those friends from the past. Orion is the easiest to spot with its belt.

Orion (pronounced /ɒˈraɪən/), a constellation often referred to as The Hunter, is a prominent constellation, one of the largest and perhaps the best-known and most conspicuous in the sky. Its brilliant stars are found on the celestial equator and are visible throughout the world. Its three prominent "belt" stars - three stars of medium brightness in the mid-section of this constellation - make this constellation easy to spot and globally recognized.
Greek mythology has several versions of the history of Orion, the gigantic hunter of primordial times.These end in different versions of his death: He challenged the gods, by claiming that he could kill every wild animal on Earth. Some versions then say Artemis shot him with her arrows; but others say that Artemis or Earth produced a great Scorpion whom he could not defeat and which killed him. The gods raised him and the Scorpion to the skies, as Scorpio/Scorpius [Taken from Wikipedia]

There are times when I am in an unknown place, with no one I know. On such days, when I look up to find Orion, it gives me a sense of familiarity. That how far, I am from home, it is the same sky, the same stars, that comes here as well as there. It gives me feeling that someone is watching over. Even in some unknown place, after all, not all in unknown. :)

Happy Diwali to all of you.
I am not going home this time.

New Look

2008-10-20T11:06:00.002+05:30

I changed my blog template yesterday. Those of you who have been here for a long time will probably know that this is my 2nd attempt with this image. The 1st one failed miserably.
So if you think this is looking good (or even bad), do leave a comment.
:)

The "Agent Smith" cycle

2008-08-25T22:19:00.004+05:30

Human beings are fascinated by things that are out of ordinary. Things like miracles, extra terrestrial beings, things that can be termed as "odd news", things that we don't want to beileve in - are actually the things that we tend to look for. Likewise we are fascinated by people who are different from us. People who do not share our habits. People who take interest in things that we do not enjoy. The general belief is that we befriend people who are like us, people who can enjoy the same things that we do. I will not disagree to that but what I am talking is about being fascinated.

It is the surprise of finding someone living a life that is different from ours when we thought ours was the only way of living that initiates it all. A general curiosity to know more about the difference is instigated because it is something we cannot explain or understand. It is the unknown that beckons us and we proceed.

With time, however, the fascination fades and after the initial curiosity is quenched, one comes back to reality. It is no more the unknown. We look at things as they are, without the cosmetics of either surprise or interest. It is then that we tend to realise that the paths actually fork. The initial interest changes to irritation and finally to indifference.

We are appalled at the idea of how someone can dislike or like so and so. We mock their enthusiasm for something and reprimand their indifference to something else. Their ideals that we listened with inquisitiveness a few days ago seem like a monotonous blabber and make no sense whatsoever. We never could relate to it, we were just reading. Now the book is over, we don't want to read again. In course of time we try to infuse our ideals in them, our likes, our dislikes, our enthusiasm and our indifference. In short we make them our replicas. Some resist and move on and some give in, lose themselves and stay. Once that is done, we are back on track to seek a new face.

I used to wonder how is it, that the exact same things that once fascinated, were the also the ones that were altered. How is it that the activities that amazed us were also the ones that irritated us!

It was when I saw Agent Smith in Matrix III, that it started to make a little sense. We sought the distinct to alter, not to appreciate. Not to preserve but to destroy. That to find a person who was like us had no novelty in it but to find someone and alter him could be a challenge, even if a small one.

PS: The above case may not be real because, since forces from both sides work, there comes a time when they could cancel each other. It can be called the point of equilibrium. By that time some of the characteristics of both the persons have already changed. One could call this adaptation, adjustment, compromise or the like. In terms of society, such a thing is beneficial and even necessary but in terms of an individual, it is just alteration, plain and simple.

On setting them free

2008-08-25T18:51:00.002+05:30

No one can re-live a feeling. One can only remember and assume what it had felt like.
You can remember that fall you had when you started riding a bicycle, that bruise on your elbow, that cut on the knee, the drop of blood trickling from the cut, the stream of tears that washed your face and how you wanted to run home but could not. Why? Because it hurt. How much was the pain? You don't remember, but it made you cry so it must have been a great deal. You wouldn't cry for nothing. That is were assumption works, imagination comes and in our mind we try to reconstruct a feeling that we don't remember. Yet if you had to go through the same situation today, you would not even wince. Worse still you would probably laugh at the whole thing!
Memories trick us. Through them we live those feelings which are nothing but gross exaggerations of reality.

Old feelings are all like old wounds. You don't remember how much it had hurt, likewise you don't remember how deep you had felt.

One such ancient feeling haunts me.. no, 'haunt' will be a wrong, it doesn't frighten me.
So, one such ancient feeling looms over me for no reason. Actually, there is a reason. If it would not have been for the reason, the feeling would have died in some locked corner of my mind. Of course it would have left its traces on the pages of my diary that was noted down in a form of a poem some 2 years back.

So this ancient feeling, it was more than a decade back. The town where I lived had a common big(don't go on the adjectives I use, since they all come from memory) market. Just at the entrance there was this man who used to sell birds. You know, small colourful birds, the sight of which is bound to make you smile. Birds that never got tired of chirping, birds kept in cages, birds that seemed to shout for freedom. I often thought how much would it cost to buy them all. And if my pocket money would be enough to set them free. I never quite got to ask my parents in fear that I would not be able to explain why I wanted to buy and then set them free. So this fancy somehow never made to reality.

I left the town pursued my studies and then landed here.

There is a shop here on the main road where my house is. The same kind. And as I cross it, that feeling comes back or rather the memory of that feeling comes back. And probably memory has magnified that feeling to an extent that I deliberately brood over it now and then. I could put an end to this brooding thing by simply going there, buying them and setting them free. Why spend so much time thinking about it, why write a blog entry on it!

Do you think their wings are clipped? Do you think they will be able to fly? Do think if I set them free, they will come back to that man? Is that not their home? Were they caught or were they bred? Have they ever been in the sky, known the world for which they are meant? If I take them out of their secured cages, do you think they will be able to survive? Having been fed all their life, will they be able to find food for themselves? Will they adapt to the vastness of sky after they limits of the cage? And what about predators? Can they save themselves from them? And if they die after being set free, would you say this life was better than that death? At least they were not dead, or were they?

I do not know or rather I know that I cannot know.

Essence and Essentials

2008-07-16T19:55:00.005+05:30

AfterI joined my engineering course, there were times when people told me that I was on the wrong place. Not that I was bad at studies but they thought I would have been better in one other field. Somehow I didnt think it that way. There is always some difference between avocation and vocation. After joining the numerous s/w people I realised that it is not really always what you see. The deeper you probe, the less you seem to understand. Unlike my earlier belief of this place being a creative hub, I came to know how much important it is to know different sources of solutions. Unlike elsewhere (or so I think) when we get in some problem we don't try to be the first one to solve it but hope that somebody else somewhere must have faced the same problem and solved it. (I don't blame anybody. I myself am a part of this) So at some point of time you actually start thinking that if creation is not way to job satisfaction, then what is!
I was jolted back to reality from this thought by a particular conversation today. We don't work for job satisfaction. We work for hike, promotion and then again hike and so on.
That reminded me why I did not pursue my hobby as my career. There were two reasons actually -
1 I was afraid to fail there. A somewhat sensitive area.
2 I didn't want to convert something that I enjoyed to something that was a part of the monotonous everyday life.
Job was never the endpoint. Job was something that would give the independence and means to pursue somehting that I enjoyed. It in itself was never the end.

A Perfect World

2008-04-22T14:43:00.002+05:30

Some years back, I realised that the world is not perfect. It isn't something that is worth boasting about because to whom in the world would such a thing be a 'news'. But I also realised that the world is not perfect because it is not supposed be. Imagine a perfect world, all perfect human beings, all perfect events, incidents, situations, solutions. Everything absolutely perfect. Where would that lead to? An absolutely predictable, boring world. We wouldn't have all those small surprises that we never expected. We would be deprived of having any opinion, or disagreements. We won't approve or disapprove anything. We won't have any choices. There will be just one single way and we all will be following that path. How does that sound? A perfect world!
From early childhood onwards we have been a given a picture of a perfect world. All those fairy-godmothers and happy-ever-afters. All that honest endeavour rewarded, and evil greed thwarted.But the world is not actually like that. And there is reason. In our own way we all think of ourselves as the heroes, even when we are visibly acting like the evil villains. We have our own justifications and we believe in them. In a perfect world, the justifications won't be our own.
Moreover, come to think of it, if we are all perfect, what happens to the pursuit of perfectness? We won't get any better, we can only get worse. At least, now there is still hope for this world.

PS: I remember having once written a poem on this particular topic. Long time!

Scared of getting bored?

2008-04-08T14:34:00.001+05:30

Once you get out of college, life gets busy. There are so many things to do. We start to get the big picture. Think big. That's what we are always told to do. 'Reaching for the sky','Not limiting ourself', all those stuffs. In the midst of all these things, we forget to live. We forget that the best things are not always big. Sometimes they are small. Sometimes, they are exquisitely sweet and subtle. Sometimes, when we think too big, we cut ourselves off from a host of more meaningful possibilities.
I know we all read all these things in forwards, forward them too, sometimes without even glancing. In a way we have all become so mechanical that we do things without actually thinking or realising wha we are doing. We do it because we have been doing it, we do it because we are expected or supposed to do it, we do it ecause we have been pratising and practice surely maketh us mecahanical even if not perfect.
The other day I was walking home, I found a few more people walking. All of them precisely 'plugged' to their cells or ipods. One of my colleuge, he said "you go home walking? what a waste of time!" . He does too, you know, but he keeps himself busy on the phone so as to not waste that time. I wonder what happened to all those little things that I used to enjoy. I remember having fights with my brother to get the window seat. For simple visual pleasure. Today may be personal audio pleasures have taken preference over that.
Was it not enough that we have managed to isolate ourselves so much in the virtual world that we do so even in the real world? We are all scared of getting bored even if it is for a minute or a few seconds. We have lost patience. We have lost interest in our surroundings. We have lost interest in ourselves. We are all running away from anything and everything that might bring us face to face with us.
It is often said that creativity is but the child of boredom. Not all such creativities are good. But for the ones that are, the risk is worth taking.

Destiny

2008-03-25T10:57:00.007+05:30

Where does a story truly begin? In life, there are seldom clear-cut beginnings, those moments when we can, in looking back, say that everything started. Yet there are moments when fate intersects with our daily lives, setting in motion a sequence of events whose outcome we could never have foreseen. - Nicholas Sparks (A bend in the Road)

If you ask me, I never had much of faith in predestined life and all. I mean, if we are all living a life in which everything is already known/destined/guaranteed then it makes us more or less powerless. Doesn't it? I always thought, whatever happens in my life - good, bad or ugly, somewhere at some point of time, I must have been responsible for it. But then again, each of our lives is not isolated. When we are talking about life, we are bound to cross path, intersect in some way. So there is also that part a little of say 20% events where i wasn't as responsible as someone else.

Yet if I look back today I find there has been so many things that took place so long back but are still responsible for something that is relevant today. That 'destiny' seems to be the only word that can explain it. So many things I thought would not affect me, that I wasn't happy with. Those are exactly the reasons for something good today. How do I explain that? It wasn't decision or deliberation. was it then what we call destiny?

I once read somewhere (forgive my memory, I don't remember the context) it is easier to explain life while joining dots backward. I would have never made the picture, had I tried to join the dots forward. In fact I wouldn't have known where to find the next dot. :)

"Lets discuss"

2008-02-01T15:27:00.000+05:30

Having more than 16 hours (the rest 8 hours are for my good night's sleep et all) of internet at my disposal certainly took away the charm of some earlier looked-forward-to activities like orkutting, chatting, mailing and aimlessly browsing around. And having just 5-10 intervals for [actual] net-ting in the almost 10 hours duration of the internet access took away the chance of sitting and using the those times for proper blog writing. I thus ended up utilising the the net for reading. So these days the generally spend the internet for finding articles and then reading them.

Today for instance I 'stumbled upon' this particular article: http://www.thestar.com/News/article/297564 and read the following -

Those and other efforts remind one of the story, perhaps apocryphal, of Catherine the Great's request of the German mathematical giant Leonhard Euler to confront atheist French philosopher Denis Diderot with evidence of God. The visiting Euler agreed, and at the meeting, strode forward to proclaim to the innumerate Frenchman: "Sir, (a+bn)/n = x, hence God exists. Reply!"
Diderot was said to be so dumbfounded, he immediately returned to Paris.

Even if we tend to ignore the involvement of God in this particular instace, isn't it true that we all tend to use jargons of our specialization to convince/confuse people who have little knowledge of what we are saying or even tend to have been muted by the jargons of someone else in an area where we seldom tend to go.

If only there was a simpler way. Unfortunately what seems so simple and obvious to us may be quite bewildering to someone else. Give some thought.

Happy weekend.

Some "timing"

2008-01-29T14:46:00.000+05:30

Owing to some of my friend's lazy office hours, I came across this particular link
http://www.totebo.com/monkey-kick-off.php.

And on one lazy sunday having nothing better to do I tried a little monkey-kick-off. Initially I was absolutely pathetic! Then I relaised it is all about timing. If you can simply match a little of you timing, you can easily score some 5000 monkey-mts.

It is so relevant, isn't it? The 'perfect timing' thing. People who are involved in sports will agree that it needs the perfect timing to score a goal or a six or that smash. Even if everythign was great little dilly-dallying and you will end up messing it all. Not just sports actually, the other day at lunch, we were discussing about the movie 'Welcome'. Everyone was unhappy about it. And yet it seemed to have attracted a large crowd. One would wonder why. One of us pointed it out - the timing. New year time, nothing else to go to except Welcome or TZP. Some light-minded people would actually end up choosing comedy of Welcome over the seriosness of TZP.

In fact doesn't it matter in almost everythign else in life - that perfect time to enter the GD i always miss that), the perfect time to question or or even answer something, the perfect time to take leave, the perfect time to call someone, the perfect time to propose, the perfect time to leave your job, the perfect time to invest, the perfect time to buy/sell shares, the perfect time to open a business... add some more to the list for eg the perfect time to write a blog(actually there is no such thing, no not for blog :D )

I had been doing some perfect timing things recently. The other day I just found the perfect time to mess up my work. :D

Oh btw in case you have nothing to do on a lazy sunday, try this --> http://www.gamedesign.jp/flash/domino/domino.html

Let me know how you fared. :)

[PS: If you havent watched TZP yet, please do
Btw TZP is Taare Zammen Par - in case you didn't understand]

Another Year - 2008

2008-01-02T22:10:00.000+05:30

One of my friends here finds it funny that we make such a hype of New Year Celebrations or for the matter Birthday Celebrations. In fact she gave us strict instructions that after a certain number of years (I forgot the exact number ! :D ) we should cease to give her greetings for new year or her Birthday and instead send her our condolences on growing another year.

It might make sense but forget it! For me, New Year is a time when I look back to see what it had been and then look forward to see what it might be. Of course, it need not be new year to do so but I prefer that because it saves me from the fractional months.

In a way, the past year gave me a lot. If ever there has been a drastic change in my life, this year would be considered first and foremost. I got my first job, left my college, got my first salary... and so many more. There had been things I never anticipated, things I dreaded for my entire life, and things I hoped for. Just too many things to list out.

Now lets see what the next year brings for me!

Happy New Year to all of you.
(Don't ponder on what my friend said. Enjoy every moment you live! )

The Kite runner - some thoughts.

2007-12-16T21:57:00.000+05:30

I read "The Kite Runner" today. How did I like it? It is something you cannot dislike. It rings like reality.

Yesterday someone was asking why I prefer fictions to non-fictions. She asked if it is fantasy that I look for, do i try to run away from reality. To tell the truth, I was caught off-guard. It actually is a truth. Books always give me a way to move around in a different world. But I didnt see it as 'running away' atleast not until she said so. It was something I didnt want to agree to. I'd rather have agreed if she had used the word 'escape' and not 'run-away'. I replied that its not fantasy of the fiction that fascinates me, its the creativity of the author, the ability to create characters, world, situations in his book. Yet when I read "The Kite Maker", I felt it ring like reality, no make-believe world there and that fascinated me more.

It is a sad story. So I was told. So I found. But actually it is much more than just a sad story.

Here are aome thoughts that I found in the book.

And that's the thing about people who mean everything they say. They think everyone else does too. [Page - 48]

It is difficult to know which is harder, to think everyone means what they say or to think nobody means what they say. To decide who means and who does not is probably the hardest. Yet this should be the way. Isn't it? How do these people react when they discover the superficial world around them? Do they break down or do they too get drowned. Is it possible to live genuinely when everything around you is superficial? For Hassan it was. He moved away, or rather was moved away, far way and finally farther away. But what happens when moving away is not one of the options? Or may be such people don't exist, are not let to exist.

Quiet is peace. Tranquility. Quiet is turning down the VOLUME knob on life.
Silence is pushing the OFF button. Shutting it down. All of it. [Page - 315]

This gives a new perspective to "silence". I never thought it this way. I may have been wrong. We do sometimes shut down our windows. Pull their shutters down. In some way or the other everyone does that till we need that sunlight again, till we want to feel the wind again. But not forever, not forever. Yet do you think it can happen that we just forget that shutters can be up again?

Running after butterflies

2007-12-16T21:34:00.000+05:30

When I started blogging, I didnt intend it to be my online journal - the ones that say 'i went to office today, we had a lot of work... etc'. I wanted it to be the window that would connect my thoughts to outside world. I wanted to catch the momentarily fleeting thoughts and pen them down here. May be that precisely is the reason why my post count has dwindled over time. It will be wrong to say that thoughts don't fleet anymore. They do but I just don't get to pen them down.

It is something like, you see the colourful butterflies, you smile but you don't run after them like you used to. It has nothing to do with the absence of butterflies, nothing to do with your growing up, nothing to do with your not being able to catch them - because catching was never the fun, it was always the running after them- yet today you just don't run after them.

Why do you think, we stopped running after them? Was it that we realised the futility of it? Or is it that we forgot to have fun or may be we just changed our ways to have fun. Then again, what actually is 'funny'. So often I find the distinction between humour and sarcasm blurring. I realise laughing is not an indeliberate effect anymore but actually a deliberate action. We laugh because we are supposed to. We smile for the same reason.

I wandered away (as usual). I was talking about blogs. Sometimes I wonder there are so many blogs in this blogsworld that have been abandoned, lost, left unfinished, forgotten, ... dead. Its all like phases you know, we get crazy about something for sometime. One month, two at most then forgotten. Then I look at my blog and think how often did I come close to abandoning it. Yet what is it that brings me back again to run after the butterflies!

May be its not futile after all.

'Transit'

2007-11-24T20:38:00.000+05:30

Most of the time, like most of the people, I find 'transit' periods awfully boring. Waiting for the results of an important exam (ask the 2007 CAT-takers :D), the duration between getting a job and leaving the college, the duration when you wait for your interview, the time when your preparation is mostly done and the examination seems to arrive too slowly, the time when train/flight gets late, the time when your work is done but you still have to wait in the office because its just too early to leave, traffic signals, long queues (for the movie, in the stores, bill payment, mess, etc), and many more.

Yet to think that the trip to home this Diwali had longer transit duration than the journey duration! The 'to' had a transit duration of 6 hours and the 'fro' had 9 hrs that makes a total of 15 hrs while total flight duration was at most 10 hrs. Both of these transit periods were spent in the Mumbai Airport. In the 6 hrs one, I had company so it was not at all irksome. But the 9 hrs were spent alone (mostly). The question however is 'was it then really tiresome?'. Well, not really.

I reached Mumbai at 9.30pm. Went on to the departure lounge and waited. For company I had phone, book and fm. Not bad. Once in a while some airport officer would come and ask if I was fine , tell me where I could find snacks/tea/coffee. The couple next to me had their flight at 5.30am. They left early but while they were there we had small chats about how bad the waiting lounge was, that Mumbai airport should have some kind of waiting room, and that it actually used to have. Other than this I was continuosly talking on phone (having arguments actually) during the early hours when it wasnt time to go to sleep for them. For the rest of the time I was busy probing into Orhan Pamuk's "My name is Red" and listening to the songs played on fm. (This finally discharged my cell and I had to stand and get it charged --> this too took some time :D)

Before long it was already time to get up and get going.
I didn't feel the passage of time. May be I didn't take it as a transit but rather as a part of the journey. Sitting there while I was observing the surroundings I thought it is stupid to think that our life stops during transits. Why, there was motion everywhere even in the 'waiting' of passengers, their loitering, reading, talking, and even dozing off.

New Look again!

2007-11-18T22:24:00.000+05:30

What a mess that was!!! How did you ppl even manage to visit it??? :D

Well after lot of experiments I settled at this particular template. The colour is not what I generally choose but the theme still is from my favorites.

A few days back, I deleted all my poems and there from my blogs. Some of you might have noticed. Did you wonder why? If you are, by any chance, curious, then your answer lies in this particular link: http://sanjumomentum.blogspot.com/

Have a look. Looks familiar? Familiar picture? Familiar entries? Some of you might be actually reading this not on my blog but on the blog mentioned above.
I came across this blog on 19th Sept 2007, it was after this that I went away on hiatus but I guess now I am back for good.

There is soooooooo much to write and sooooooooooooo less time. :(
I will take some days to make up for the gap.

But c you soon.

This post can be treated as 'old'. The link given above does not have much relevance anymore. Not deleting or editing it but keeping it as a memento. [Edited by Anki on 24/12/2007]

On a brief note.

2007-09-18T13:41:00.000+05:30

I dont know if any of you remember my post "Reality or rainbow??!! " (Check the link in case you don't).

Anyways I came across this article today "Your world is in your brain" (Read for yourself!)
See I always told you so :D

(Pretty pressed for time now, hence no updates. wait till Oct. or better still till Nov.)

-@nk!

What have I been doing!

2007-08-08T17:08:00.000+05:30

It has been a long time since I wrote anything except the last blog entry. So today when I found some ample time, I wondered 'what have I been doing all these days!'
To start with, end of college suddenly shook up a well settled (although not routined) life.( As indicated in the last post) The next phase is taking some time to get settled but still, I had been busy.

Work - A new place of learning. Mostly learning now not much of performing. This is what takes at least 40 hours of my week.

Books - I have been reading a good lot of books. I finished the following:

The Inheritance of Loss - Kiran Desai
The Godfather - Mario Puzo
Eleven Minutes - Paulo Coelho
The Broker - John Grisham
Shalimar the Clown - Salman Rushdie
Sleeping Murder - Agatha Christie

At present I am on:
4.50 From Paddington - Agatha Christie

Books on the rack:
God Knows - Joseph Heller
Zahir - Paulo Coelho

Other than these I have been busy with knowing and getting used to with the new place.
Inspite of all these, I do miss writing. I miss writng my impressions (book reviews) and my expressions I miss the absolute leisurely time when I could let my thoughts just wander away and then capture the thougts. I miss those times when I didnt have write hurriedly while using the computer and when it wasn't a tool of work but a tool of leisure. :)

And with these miss-all-s, comes things I enjoy. I enjoy the idea of questioning and learning. I enjoy the last two days of week which takes my mind off my work. I enjoy the sense of freedom and responsibility. I enjoy being able to responsible for things around me. And for a change I am enjoying growing up.

So, what have you been doing?

Life - A river

2007-07-18T11:35:00.000+05:30

I dont know why but somehow, I always end up comparing Life with a river. The river continues to flow at its pace in a similar way as life does. Time never allows one to reach the same water in the same place more than once. So is life. It therefore becomes necesarry that one approaches life at right time. What is the right time, that ofcourse depends so much on the person and the reason for one's approach.
This was the dynamic aspect, the movement, the flow. Then there is the constancy. You might wonder, how can a river be constant. I too used to. But imagine going to a particular spot near a river everyday. Do you see any change? The water still flows just the way it did the day before. Its not the same drop of water but it still is the same water. May be after a long long time, there will be changes. The river will be wider, deeper but it still will be the same river. Its only when you see the flow, you realise that time does not allow you to see the exact same water more than once, but if you see the river, it is same. Isnt it? Is that not constancy? And does the same thing not happen with every person?
There ofcourse other similarities that I keep finding. For example all of sudden with the arrival of a rift or cliff, the course of the river changes drastically. Life too encounters such sudden changes. Actually, let me be true, it is this particular aspect because of which i am writing this entry today. Just two months ago, life was so different, and one particular day of last month changed it completely. The 4th of June. If I look back now, it seems all that followed after that, had been waiting for that day to arrive. Life had reached a stand-still before that and as soon it arrived, everything else came almost like an avalanche. This whole thing reminded me of a waterfall. The forceful yet a beautiful way in which a river meets a change.

Life is so much like a river!!!

My first post after job and from office.

Lessons

2007-05-19T10:48:00.000+05:30

This particular write-up was written months back. But I found it true even today.

People change, and I watch. The drastic changes that catch the notice of everyone and the slow ones which sometimes I observe. Over the period of time, so many things have changed. It makes me shiver, to think how drastically and to what extent, ppl can change. Did I too?? I don't want to know the answer, because probably today, I am standing in a position where both the answer scares me. The "no" tells me about my rigidity, my inability to adapt, to accept and the "yes" frightens me to think what is it that I have become today. I am surprised at the suggestions given by ppl. Its funny not because someone is telling me to be "selfish" but because it comes from a person who as far as I know, never knew the meaning of it, never knew that people are selfish that there are things that we never think. The first glimpse of this change in this particualr person, had shocked me so much that I had thought, probably I was wrong in my judgement, but today when the change can be clearly percieved by me, I sense how wrong I have been, it was the first step towards the transformation, to which I was the only spectator and that person, the only victim. I am still standing where I was then with some views changed and many things learned.

1. If I listen to or help someone, it doesn’t guarantee I will be treated the same way but then just because nobody will listen to me when I need doesn’t mean I will do the same thing.

2. Not all think the way I do, and there will always be some whom I will never understand. I should not waste my time for them.

3. There will always be at least one person, who will understand a part of my feelings.

4. Its good to know people disagree, to know that I am "different".

5. If I believe that for every smile I get, a drop of tear is stored for me, it means for every tear I drop, there is/was a smile somewhere. I will wait for the smile, it is sure to come.

6. Surprises are the best thing of life, so I should never expect anything.

7. Life comes in small packets of happiness - like dancing in the rain, nibbling "bhutta", going for a movie and not watching it, writing/reading blogs, laughing, writing poems, reading books, praising someone, praying for somebody else, listening to somebody telling I am good... and wondering whether to believe or not, re-reading mails, re-living moments, getting a surprise, giving a surprise, and so on... I will always enjoy them!!!

8. Believe that I can do most of the things alone and for those that I cannot, there will be someone waiting to help me there.

9. Help comes from the most unexpected people. I am thankful to them.

10. How good friends you become, how close... there are certain things that are not for me and not for you.

11. Everybody is selfish... I should learn to accept this.

12. I am not perfect but I love the way I am.

13. "Now" is the greatest gift...I will use it, not misuse it.

14. There will be at least one person other than me who will love me the way I am.

15. Some things are not forever, so I will enjoy them while they are there.

16. It’s okay to think that the world is not good, but I will look up at the sky and see the stars. Once in a while one of them appears in my life.

17. It is no use running away; the more I run from something, the more it will follow. (Applies to problems as well as dogs).

18. Before convincing others, I should convince myself.

19. It is no use saying something that I do not believe in.

20. It is always easier to justify myself than to justify others. Sometimes it’s worth trying things that are not easy.

21. It is always easy to ask than to answer. If there is something I will not prefer to answer, it is better I do not ask.

22. It is easy to say, "just like that" and "some things don't have reasons" but I will learn to be true to myself at least... it is not always possible to be true to everybody.

23. If I am doing something because I expect something in return, it’s not worth it.

For all those who have found something to disagree, refer the statement number 4 again. :D

-Anki!!!

To be, or not to be

2007-05-05T13:17:00.000+05:30

To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action. - Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd.

- William Shakespeare
 (from Hamlet 3/1)

BTP Analysis

2007-05-01T19:52:00.000+05:30

Let me first of all clarify to the readers that the above title is read as "BTP A-null-(th)esis".

For the advantage of all non engineering readers BTP as understood or made understood by any technological institute is expanded as "B.Tech Project". As you all know, B.Tech is the degree for which we toil and survive the 4 years assigned to the course. BTP, however, expanded by technological students would conform to any of the following terms but the one given before :

Badly Timed Project

Breath Taking Project

Brain Twisting Project

Bulk Torture Project

Boring Technology Project

Big Tragedy Project

Bravely Tackled Project
Bas Topic Project

Or some people tend to devise less complicated and non-technological terms to comply to the acronym (courtesy: F&S)

The initiation of BTP occurs with the allotment of the topic which may take place any day from the first week of the semester to the day before the report submission depending on the flexibility of your department, (mis)guide and/or your typing speed. But of course I cannot overlook the presence of your conscience. This leads the inevitable mention of some ELITE (Erroneously Lost In Technology and Engineering) students who comply to the university definition of the acronym and actually work for it. My post assumes their non-existence.

The main work of BTP is the preparation of a flawless, acceptable report. This report can be broaly divided into two types:

which has been explored by you so well that you can easily baffle the proffesors giving them a false impression of your knowledge, interest and efforts.
which is neither understood by you nor the proffesors such that they prefer not to enter the untried domain.

The first type requires some research of the topic (as in surfing, netting, mostly books are considerd orthodox and seldom used) and if possible a know-how/what/why of the proffesor(s) to make sure that you can baffle him(them). This type thus requires a little more effort than just the report writing in addition to convincing evidence to prove your attempt and success.

The second type with the advancement of technolgy (as in free-flowing internat) is more easily accesible. It is ready-made, requires less efforts and is more or less hassle free. The only thing to be made sure of is that it comforms to the type mentioned above i.e an untried domain at least to the proffesor(s).

Once the report is made and submitted, the more dreaded moment arrives - the BTP Viva(or presentation). There however is also a good part about it, that being the end of viva more or less marks the termination of the B.Tech struggles.

The viva involves your explaining to the panel:

the importance of your project- this is the easiest part (thanks to the technological advancements)
the work you attempted - this is often confusing. Your (mis)guide can help you with this or you can always turn to the omniscient (internet).
and the reasons for your inability to complete it - this is the hardest part since you can neither blame it on the department nor youself. If you can find a way through in this part, trust me, your BTP is complete. The most common way through this is to confidently deny that its left incomplete or to simply disregard the part of completion and talk about future scopes in the project.

While dealing with BTP, the important mantra to remember is "If you can't convince them, confuse them".

If you are through with this all, my heartiest congrtatulations to you. Now you can sit back, look back and have a hearty laugh.

This write-up is dedicated to my seniors who have taught me the importance (or rather unimportance) of BTP, the anecdotes of their BTP, their runnning/hiding away from guides, their coffee breaks, the F&S team, their thorough research on the term BTP, my friends whom I have seen struggling (or rather not struggling) for their BTP, their evidences and efforts and lastly all engineering students who have a similar story to tell.

[Diclaimer: This post has no intention of making fun of any institution, any of its ongoing tradition, or the ELITE students of the institution and is based on first hand experience, observation and second hand confessions]

Enjoi!

-Anki.

Frozen Frame

2007-04-29T22:33:00.000+05:30

The picture given here has been taken by an aquaintance (Find some more here). So I cannot take its credit. But, yes I will take all the credit (or discredit) of the poem that follows. The trigger of poem is attributed to the picture but as it developed, it took a few twist and turns to reach a somewhat disconnected ending. I wanted to title it "Frozen Frame" when I started but now that I have ended it, I am not sure what should I call it. Any ideas???

How does it feel to be frozen in time
In a frame where the seconds don't roll by
In the middle of an undone crime
In the instant you were still to try?

When the smile your eyes expressed
Had yet to reach your lips
When the words that you had phrased
Had yet to know their slips

How does it feel to stop when
You had just started to fall
How does it feel to abandon
When you hadn't begun it at all

Imagine the wind tangled in the creases
Of your motionless apparel
Or lost its path when the time freezes
To become something but a gale

Imagine the moving clouds stopped
Before they found their way
Imagine the rain that was dropped
Had to stop in the space and stay

How does it feel if you spoke
Yet the words were never heard
What if the heart just broke
But the pieces never shattered

I wonder if it is possible
To arrive but never to leave
Can someone at a moment, still
Be untrue yet not deceive?

Adieu

2007-04-11T22:35:00.000+05:30

[Dedicated to the ppl of my batch-07 with whom I have spent the last four years]

Four years may not have been long enough
To make a relationship of this love
One, that could remain forever
To be sustained, preserved or savoured
For the rest of our life
To make it stay alive.

But sure is that this friendship of ours
Will remain beyond the curbed hours
Of our staying together here
Of sharing moments so much dear
If not in real, then in memories
In remembrance we will surely cherish.

It takes a lot to leave behind
Forget and omit from the mind
The first days of coming here
The intros to our seniors
The sessions of the PDPs
The lessons of the primaries.

The finding friends of our kinds
Discussions among the like minds
The days of our working together
Of blooming in the different weathers
The subjects that never made sense
They all form a memory dense.

We all have walked through these days
Finding ourselves a specific place
For now and for the rest of our life
We have learnt the ways to stay alive
May be each in different approaches
But this place has taught us the ways.

It has given us our own space
In the proximity of each other's place
We have learnt to grow to the fact
That we live differently yet intact
And its time for us now, friends
To reach where all these ends

To leave a place that made us grow
The time has come for us to go
To say adieu, bid farewell
To hope for and wish each other well
To gather a few cherished moments
From all these days together spent.

- Anki
24th Mar 2007
(Composed on the occasion of GH farewell)

Re-view

2007-02-27T13:59:00.000+05:30

This post comes a bit earlier than expected. Actually I wanted to postpone it till my semester exams but then I coudnt resist the idea to write it now itself. Two months isn't too much a long time but still some of the ideas given below might just change in the coming tima-span of 2 months.
The opinions stated below have taken more or less 4 years to develop and are applicable only to my stay here for the last 4 years.

Five things I regret:

1) My fuchha skit (at least my part) was such a disaster that I couldnt gather the courage to face the audience one more time. Not just for theatre but song, dance and even Lit activities. I really regret it.

2) Four years but I haven't yet seen sunrise in the ghats. Two of my attempts have failed miserably because the sun decided to betray me. (I hope to take care of this one in the remaining days)

3) I couldn't have the pleasure of riding a tonga yet although I had this wish from the 1st yr itself.

4) There are about 4 sites of waterfall nearby. I could visit just one.

5) Now this one is on the academic part - I could not maintain the minimum grade that I wanted to or rather could have.

[That I could never take part in Mirage would have been one of my foremost regrets, had this year's Mirage not disappointed me]

Five most memorable times:

1) My first year. The times in the class as well as outside it. Quite unlike others, that was the time when I was seldom home-sick.

2) The National youth fest that took place in our University. I was in the organising team and had a festive time during all the days.

3) The industrial tour. I hadnt at all expected it to be so much enjoyable and memorable. A heartfelt thanks to some of my classmates.

4) The surprise party on my birthday last year. It fills me with all smiles with just its mention.

5) The final debate competetion this KY. I haven't had even half the fun I had in any other event where I have ever participated. Thanks to Sarda for forcing me into this.

Five memory-laden places:

1) VT. From the 1st year initial days to even now... some memorable moments were spent here.

2) Orchids. Some very enjoyable lunches/dinners with different group of people.

3) SB. Other than being the site for the KY events(including the disc), this place is memorable for the NYF activities - the dinner and the disc. Then it is the place that we (me and Anu) frequently reach while taking the walks between the classes.

4) My department. May be ruins but still the memory cannot be denied.

5) Last but the heaviest - My hostel (obviously) and my room especially.

Five group of people I cannot forget:

1) My roomie. This group has just 1 member. Shilpi.

2) My first year group. 5 members. Anu, Shubhi, Priya, Richa, Shilps

3) The NYF group. A lot of people, Most important being - Kapil Bh, Rajat, Vibhav Bh and Madhur Bh. Others include some 'pyare' juniors. :)

4) Among my hostelmates - Smiti, Gargi, Megha,... Jrs such as Arpi, Cherry,... some Srs such as Ritu... and the Mtech Srs with whom I shared the lobby for 6 months.

5) And ofcourse how can I forget some of my classmates with whom I have enjoyed the tour, the trip to falls, the KY disc, and not to mention the classes. :)

Five achievements here:

(Now this is relative. Some of the things mentioned below might not look like any achievment to you.)

1) My dream job.

2) My participating in Vitasta last year.

3) The beginning of my blogging.

4) My poetry writing reached a state of liberation and spontaenity here.

5) My befriending some really good friends. :) (and this is not exaggeration)

Thank you for your patience.
Happy Holi to all of you.

Words are all I have...

2007-02-14T20:09:00.000+05:30

Indeed, one philologist goes as far as to theorize that language must have been invented for the sole purpose of deception.
- Word Power Made Easy
p146

How does it sound to you considering that language is the only way of communication we have? Atleast I know no other way.

I came across this statement sometimes in the summer of 2005 and since then it has been safely stored somewhere in my mind. At some very trivial or important moments, the line just rings in my ears. At the very first instance, the idea was vehemently rejected by my mind. But then, although it took some time to sink in, it finally did. Even if it were not invented for the sole purpose of deception, it really does the work well. It hurts to think in this way probably because words, the builing blocks of language, are so important for me. My greatest interests are all dependent on words.

But then, I can't much help it. Its only words and words are all I have... to make you believe, believe or even to decieve. And none of us much has a choice other than 'words'. May be that is where 'instinct' comes to play.

Confessions...

2007-02-12T11:29:00.000+05:30

I would rather have titled this as "Confessions of a self-proclaimed poet" but then I realised that, that would be somewhat exaggerated on my part because it is no denying the fact that there are indeed many who agree with me i.e my calling myself a poet.

Ever since I realised that I could note down my thoughts in rhyme and rhythm, I have prided in calling myself 'a poet'. It hasnt mattered whether I or my poems (as I would call them) have ever complied to the definitions or not and that was because of two reasons - 1. I didnt know them and 2. I didnt want to know.

Poets as I have been made to think or believe is that they are very sentimental, compassionate, emotional people. As I think it over today (I seem to have found ample time for that), I find myself awfully confused. May be it was this belief that in the first place led me to this domain. With time I developed the knack of expressing (complex) emotions in my poems. They say every poet needs some experience, some inspiration. What were mine I dont know. For, unlike the popular way, I didnt turn into a poet after I was love-struck or had a heartbreak or passed through a sea of sorrow. My life has been a very smooth sailing (ofcourse if you do not consider the change of places). As a result, I had to depend solely on others or my imaginations for my inspirations. I learnt to imagine and create hypothetical situations so that I could write. The result was good.

The only compliment that I seek for my poems is their identification with the reader. If even a single line reminds the reader of some lost memory, pain, happiness or any emotion, then I will consider my writing has not gone in vain. Strange, because quite a few times, I myself don't find that identification with my own poem. However in many cases I do. Or atleast I believe I do. For once I have poured out my thoughts into the form of a poem, it becomes difficult for me to go and retrace the feeling that instigated it. Was that emotion hypothetical or real is something I would rather not admit. The realization that the emotion was foreign makes me guilty that I could play so well with sentiments that they converge into merely a bunch of words and the thought that it was mine own makes me blush that I could express it so. I, thus try neither.

That, my creations can make someone cry, laugh, smile or even stir any other minute feeling in somebody is in itself such a prized feeling that all other feelings even the one that made me write it seems so very small. Finally after writing it down, what remains is the pride that I had something that I created myself and that it had the ability to make someone feel. Rest all vanishes. It would thus seem that my diary serves as a sink where I drown all those sentiments which I would rather never admit to or which never belonged to me. The most demanding part comes when the poem stirs a feeling among the reader which I find so difficult to recognise within myself although I agree with them whole-heartedly. It probably is what they call 'detachment' or 'the third person perspective'.

That does make me quite insensitive and unemotional (ugghhh!!!! that doesnt sound very nice) and yet a poet. The paradox is that if I stopped being a poet, I would become both sensitive and emotional because then, I would lose my 'sink' and if I were not sensitive and emotional, how could I be a poet! However it becomes difficult for me to feel and write at the same moment. But then, if I never feel, how can I write even if it were a totally hypothetical feeling!

Now thats what the whole confusion and confession is about.

A few from the collections...

2007-01-27T21:58:00.000+05:30

I had been reading Vikram Seth's collected poems recently. Although I admit this is my first encounter with his writings I did like going through some of his works. In this post, I am mentioning some of his octates and quatrains. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I do. By the way, this is certainly not exhaustive list, there are some more, but i will try and keep my post shorter. :)

GOD'S LOVE

God loves us all, I'm pleased to say -
Or those who love him anyway -
Or those who love him and are good.
Or so they say. Or so he should.

CONDITION

I have to speak - I must - I should - I ought...
I'd tell you how much I love you if I thought
The world would end tomorrow afternoon.
But short of that... well, it might be too soon.

INTERPRETATION

Somewhere within your loving look I sense,
Without least intention to deceive,
Without suspicion, without evidence,
Somewhere within your heart the heart to leave.

PASSAGE

Your eyes, my understanding, all will rot;
The trees we see, the books we read, will go;
The way that we use words, as like as not,
And we are fortunate that this is so.

VOICES

Voices in my head,
Chanting, 'Kisses. Bread.
Prove yourself. Fight. Shove.
Learn. Earn. Look for love,'

Drown a leser voice.
Silent now of choice;
'Breathe in peace, and be
Still, for once, like me.'

ALL YOU WHO SLEEP TONIGHT

All you who sleep tonight
Far from the onces you love,
No habd to left or right,
And emptiness above -

Know that you aren't alone.
The whole world shares your tears,
Some for two nights or one,
And some for all their years.

LAST NIGHT
(Translated from the urdu of Faiz Ahmed Faiz)

Last night your faded memory came to me
As in the wilderness spring comes quietly,
As, slowly, in the deser moves the breeze,
As, to a sick men, without cause, comes peace.

DISTRESSFUL HOMONYMS

Since for me now you have no warmth to spare
I sense I must adopt a sane and spare

Philosophy to ease a restless state
Fuelled by this uncaring. It will state

A very meagre truth: love, like the rest
Of our emotions, sometimes needs a rest.

Happiness, too, no doubt; and so, why even
Hope that the course of true love' could run even?

(Notice the rhyming words above!!!)

PROTOCOLS

What can I say to you? How can I now retract
All that that fool, my voice has spoken -
Now that the facts are plain, the placid surface cracked,
The protocols of friendship broken?

I cannot walk by day as now I walk by dawn
Past the still house where you lie sleeping
May the sun burn away these footprints on the lawn
And hold you in its warmth and keeping.

ACROSS

Across the miles I wish you well.
May nothing haunt your heart but sleep.
May you not sense what I don't tell
may you not dream, or doubt, or weep.

May what my pen this peaceless day
Writes on this page not reach your view
Till its deferred print lets you say
It speaks to someone else than you.

Each of them is complete in itself. I couldn't finding anything to add or comment. Just read and think it over. :)

Some more seashells

2007-01-14T17:57:00.002+05:30

I never thought, when I will open my closed fist to see the shells that I treasured so much, I will find nothing but trifles from my childhood. [refer my post Seashells]

And I never thought that one day I would be still taking pleasure in collecting those trifles just as I did some 10 years back. Yes, thats what I did today. May be they never were trifles and never will be, not for me.

My treasure :)

So here I was, on the other side of the river Ganges with Shilpi, Arpita, Cherry and sands all round. For a moment my whole being was transferred to the beaches of my childhood. But I soon managed to come back to cherish the present with as much pleasure as I had then. It was not just the sand or the shells, there was so much more. The pony-ride for example in which Cherry continuosly coaxed and cajoled the pony to run but he was just too indifferent to her wishes and took a very relaxed stroll. Or my race with cherry which always stopped halfway because Cherry would say "Anki, nahi main yahan nahi daud sakti" and then she would reach me and start running again indicating the race has started again. Or the just sitting on the sand and laughing or talking absolute nonsense. Or the boat ride. In short we just had fun.

In the end weall had a shell to remind us of today. The white one you can see on the top the heap in my hand is Cherry's and is being mentioned here specially on her request.

:)

Its not time...

2007-01-13T11:57:00.000+05:30

"Its not time that is passing by, its you and I..."

This line has been taken from one of the short stories of Ruskin Bond. (It so happened that I had the chance to find a penguin publication that includes "all" his short stories and novellas and thats what is keeping me busy these days :D... Well, there are some others to give it company as well)

An apt line for the time when I am writing. Not only because the year has just turned "new" but because we did pass by the tenure that takes to make a engg. graduate out of us. I know I am late and had been so careless to have ignored the new year in my blog for 2 whole weeks. So first of all, a very happy new year to all my readers who had the patience to cope with my irregular pace as well as random posts :).

It is difficult to tell what caused the delay. Did this new year pass away so quickly that I had no time to stop and contemplate? If this was the case then I should stop and think what is that had kept me so busy and yet I cannot even remember it! Or the other reason may well be that somewhere in my unconscious, I did not want to mould my blogging into a routine, however vaguely defined.

So coming back to this year, whats special this year. Well, for me, this year holds an end and a beginning. For all those who might be thinking that the rest of this post may consist of some "senti" stuff on my last three years here then I would suggest you come back to reality at once. Because after some long and thorough self-analysis, I have concluded that I have not been bestowed with the intrinsic characteristics required for getting attached to a place or may be even people as much and as easily as others do. And this I find has been very favourable for me as I had the opportunity of place-hopping since my childhood. Of my future, of course I have no more to say than you.

Still, although I may not be sentimental enough to feel nostalgic but I do realise that a transition in my journey awaits me and this transition further testifies the truth of the statement I began this writing with - "Its not time that is passing by, its you and I... "

Anki

ei.. emni bhabchhilaam...

2007-01-06T13:39:00.000+05:30

"bos-e bos-e bhabchho ki
ohe matir phool
bhabna manei sopno jeno
sopno manei bhool"

onek din aage chhotobelaye porechhilam, ek baar. tobuo, keno jeno baar baar chhondo ta mone pore jaye. mone hoye keu jeno mana korchhe - bhabte, sopno dekhte... tobuo parini. aamar protidin jeno, sopno dekha diye-i shuru-o hoye aar shehsh-o. ei to bhabchhilam, tai likhe phellam.

bos-e bos-e bhabchhi aami
mon jeno maneni
bhabna bhool, sopno mitthye
tobuo chharte parini

aage konodin ei byapare bhabini je nijer bhashaye-o likhte pari. ei kichu din aage koyekta blog dekhe prothom baar ichhe holo. Sayantini-r comment ta pore bhablam chesta kora jaak, ek baar ontoto. Actually, friends-e baa readers-e keu-i bujhte paarbena, taai lekha ta kono din hoyeni. Answerable howar ichheta chhilo na. kintu blog ta to sobsomoye nijer jonyo-i lekha, tai aajke ei post ta likhlam.

:)

Anki

Candle

2006-12-12T22:36:00.000+05:30

In continuation to my string of eight-liners :)

Each night with the arrival of the moon
On the corner table of my room,
The sleek solitary candle stem
Is lighted to give a luminous flame

Some see it every night and say
It is dying, the wax will melt away
I look at the bright light it gives,
Death is near but what a life it lives!!!

- Anki
24th Nov '05

Found this picture in one of my old mails. Couldn't help relating it to a poem I wrote once.

Random Rhymes

2006-12-06T22:37:00.000+05:30

Wrote this last night or rather today morning after realising that it is already 4.30 am :)

SLEEPLESS

The stars are staring back at me
As I too watch them wakefully
Dreams sound a thing of past tonight
All that is real, is a beautiful night

A smile spreads across my lips
As a loving thought yet again peeps
Bringing forth some forgotten trivia
I may call it "love", he calls it insomnia. ;)

- Anki

How does it matter!

2006-12-04T14:48:00.000+05:30

It doesn't matter. I wonder what does. If I had to make a list of the things that would matter to me, trust me, the list will contain a number of things but mostly stricken off. We live life forward but strangely we learn it only backward. There had been a numerous incidents which I always thought would matter. It probably did... I am not sure. Seriously. Because in the end, I am still standing here glad that I had a life of the kind I had and that certain things did not matter. Although may be standing at that point of time I migth have just thought "why me!" or for the matter "why not me!"

There are so many on the other hand that did matter while I had actually thought, they would never. When I was younger, I used to have a list of things that I will not do. With time that list faded as I actually did some of them. It did not matter. As I grew up, that list was replaced by a list of things I would do. It is easier to focus on what to do than what not to do. Like they say it is hard not to imagine a blue elephant when you are asked 'not to' do so. Lots of things do matter. Who am I to question that. 'Cause life is a series of incidents one actuated from another. If I told you that those incidents do not matter, you do not need an IQ above 100 to disbelief me.

What I meant all this while is that in the long run it probably is not the incident that mattered but the way I took from there, the direction I went.

Made sense? How does it matter anyway!

Take a chance.

2006-11-27T22:38:00.002+05:30

This is an incomplete poem-like stuff vaguely written. Parts given, parts missing and parts changed to keep the continuity. I have kept the original title of the poem as the title of this post, however. You might not miss the parts that are missing because they were actually written in an unmatched way. There are no deliberate rhymes, mere flow of thoughts directed to a paper. :)
Happy reading.

I wrote this after reading the title of a certain poem. But that title has not been used in the given part.

Have you tried to tame the wild wind?
Storms that are seldom mild ?
Or rivers that flow like insane?
Have you walked on the beach
With waves splashing on your feet unrestrained?
Stretched your arms and thought of flying?

Been to core of wilderness?
Walked the path of unknown?
Taken the uncharted waters?
Or for sheer curiosity looked into
A strange domain?
Are you fascinated by the unfamiliar?

Do flowers give you joy?
Is the evanescence of dewdrops a treasure
And do the colours of a butterfly
Tell you of life?
Can you, beneath the vastness of sky
Sit in mere stillness?

Have you read a book, a page at a time?
Let time rule your world, yet
Been in your complete control?
Loved for the sake of loving
Not for your mortal heart but
For the timelessness of your soul?

Tried reading the mind of a stranger?
Seen unfamiliarity in your closest pal
And still not been bemused?
Have you seen sparks in ashes of dreams?
Can you smile through skinned knees?
And even broken hearts?

Have you seen in the drops of rain
The eternity of this world?
Life in the lifeless stones?
And in each of us, paradoxes curled?
May be I will not bewilder you then.
Me, you might have already known.

"A poem is never finished, only abandoned" - Paul Valery (1871-1945)

Neither is this. So save your precious words till then. :)

Reach for it!

2006-11-11T16:08:00.000+05:30

Hi all..

Well, I'm back here with anotehr song I heard lately. Loved it! Read it for yourself and decide!

Reach - CALEIGH PETERS

Sometimes it seems like you're falling
Falling out of the sky
Sometimes it feels like you're slipping
And running out of time
And that's when you've gotta throw it all away
All of the things that people say
And all of the doubts that fill your mind
Don't belong there

Whatever you do, you'll never be wrong
As long as you reach for it
When you reach for it, nothings to far
And its never to long, as long as you reach for it
You can dream on it, everywhere its there

Sometimes I can be stupid
I can get out of line
But most times you know what I'm doing
Its not like some big surprise
Oh and I, I just want to make you understand
That failing on me isn't in my plans
And all of the doubts that fill my mind
Don't belong there.

Whatever you do, you'll never be wrong
As long as you reach for it
When you reach for it, nothings to far
And its never to long, as long as you reach for it
You can dream on it, everywhere

There's so much distance
Between what you want and what you've got
But if you really want it-its your life
So you gotta try
You've gotta fly

Whatever you do, you'll never be wrong
You can reach for it
You can reach for it

Its never to far and its never to long
As long as you reach for it.
You can dream on it, everywhere

What say??
I guess there isnt anything I can add to those words. Let your dreams run wild, you will find chasing them is fun!

Anki!

PS: By any chance are you thiking that I am running out of ideas? keep thinkin! ;). And did I forget to mention that the soundtrack was from the movie "Ice Princess" .

Some disjoint excerpts.

2006-11-07T00:36:00.000+05:30

It will be highly exaggerated if I said that I feel nostalgic about the 3 yrs stay here. However it will be unjustified to say that I am absolutely unfeeling about my coming to 4th year or for the matter leaving college in a few months. The truth is some thoughts do come, on and off, to make me realize this. I made a point to note them down just like that somewhere and today I found some of the pages. So here are some of the excerpts from those pages -

7/26/2006 3:57 AM

As the 4th year started, all of a sudden, the absence of seniors in the hostel, LC and on the roads of insti makes me realize that I have grown up. The thing is that the feeling of ‘growing up’ doesn’t come with the same pace as that of my growing up. I feel it all of a sudden one fine morning when certain responsibilities are thrust upon me or when people who used to take care of me are all suddenly not as near as they used to be. The job scenario and the constant feeling of CAT keeps my mind occupied most of the time but once in a while, I still take time to look around me and let my mind wander...

7/27/2006 12:55 AM

There were two thin old brown-paper covered books from the school-days of my father. One of those had this poem “Little Things” as its first poem. Even though when I first read them, probably nothing other than the rhyming words were noticed but today as these words are ringing in the back of my mind, I realize that this little poem has some great lessons of life. Seriously, even if I were to forget all philosophies and look at it from a scientific point of view (as a student of science), isn’t it a fact proved beyond doubt that all things (matter or non matter) are made up of smaller units! Like the bricks in this building, the chips of this Laptop, the cells of living things, atoms, electrons, quarks (and may be more are to be discovered)… and so on. So is my life, made up of small moments. All of a sudden this realization comes that so many of these important moments have passed away by my side and I haven’t even noticed. So many of them wasted for the sake of crying, worrying and God knows what else. The reason of this sudden realization may be that we are on the verge of joining the world of grown ups, on the verge of leaving student life. The coming to 4th year wasn’t same as the coming to 2nd or 3rd year. This time it is like we are knocking at the door of an unknown world and are both apprehensive and excited about it. May be nothing much will change but it is this transition that has brought this realization. The first day when I came to insti this session, as I was entering the campus, the same roads that I had traversed 3 years back with my parents, I had this sudden feeling of making this year memorable. Not just through memories but through journals. I wanted to treasure each of its days so that when I look back, it will be not just looking back at disjoint scraps of memories but something more concrete. Like journals and pictures. More importantly through journal, because same thoughts and feelings do not come again. But of course the kind of lazy person I am, I never made it till I sat here and started writing this. One of the main reasons for writing this is this feeling of treasuring the last year here. Because this time I don’t want those little significant moments pass away unnoticed.

Like I said, I am lazy :( I did miss many things I guess.

The excitement (even if mingled with apprehension) of attending to something new is often more in my case than the sorrow of leaving something behind. May be the constant change of places has made me such. There is always so much to do that getting stagnant at the same place, same routine gives a vague feeling of suffocation. Four years is a long time. And this time I know, when I leave, I will take those things that I cherish with me.

No, I can't take the ghats or the roads of BHU with me but I can take that feeling they give me, and their memories.

Just felt like writing.

After a long time...

2006-11-04T17:22:00.002+05:30

It has been a long time, since I posted any of my poem. Although I strongly believe that I am not answerable to anybody and even if you question me why I did not post any poem, I can easily get away without answering it, I think I can share some of the reasons.

One is that for a few months (yes a few months - thats a long time for me!) I had not been writing them and 2ndly, more recently the ones I wrote are too personal or rather abstract yet close to my heart to be posted in the blog.

But I wrote one today and decided that the blog was the best place for it. So here it is -

Friend, are you listening? (click here)

I must make it clear however that this poem is not for anybody specific, and neither did I write it on pure imagination. It is true that on my journey of life till today, I have made a large number of friends and I have lost many of them too. The main subject of the poem is for those lost friends of mine. Although I know, they will never read it here, but still... who knows they might just lose their way to reach here.

However I am also lucky to have found quite a few precious gems who still are with me. The last para is dedicated to those beautiful beings in my life.

Happy reading.

-Anki

Break away!

2006-10-27T23:19:00.000+05:30

Heard this song recently -

...
Trying hard to reach out
But when I tried to speak out
Felt like no one could hear me
Wanted to belong here
But something felt so wrong here
So I'd pray
I could break away

I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly.
I'll do what it takes till I touch the sky.
Make a wish, take a chance,
Make a change, and break away.
Out of the darkness and into the sun.
But I won't forget all the ones that I love.
I'll take a risk, take a chance,
Make a change, and break away

Wanna feel the warm breeze
Sleep under a palm tree
Feel the rush of the ocean
Get onboard a fast train
Travel on a jetplane
Far away
And break away
...

Life has been a series of different things for me. Each new moment has brought a new realization, a new lesson, a new sense of curiosity. If I look back, there are all those mementoes staring back at me. Looking past all of them, I still fail to see where it started. Even then, each coming day still seems to be just a beginning. It just seems long and eventful journey that reaches where, I dont know.

And it was on such a thoughtful occasion that I came across this song. Felt like sharing it with you all. All of us have a destiny to fulfill, a dream to create, a destination to reach which may never be possible if we don't try once to 'break away' .

Live life to your fullest. There is lot to do in a very limited time. Start today. Break away but take your own responsibility. Please. :)

Falling Stars * * *

2006-10-20T18:52:00.000+05:30

Catch a falling star an’ put it in your pocket,
Never let it fade away!
Catch a falling star an’ put it in your pocket,
Save it for a rainy day!

For love may come an' tap you on the shoulder,
Some star-less night!
Just in case you feel you wanna’ hold her,
You’ll have a pocketful of starlight!
.
.
.
For when your troubles startn’ multiplyin’,
An' they just might!
It’s easy to forget them without tryin’,
With just a pocketful of starlight!

Catch a falling star an’ put it in your pocket,
Never let it fade away! ...

I heard this song somewhere recently. :)

Have any of you ever wished on falling stars? I did some 7 years back and they came true. I am not sure if they would have come true if I had not wished them on the FS (i.e falling stars) that day or not. Now, don't you laugh at me that something like wishing on a FS gives me pleasure. Infact I wished on a FS a few days back as well. Just because some people may use the term "silly" or "stupid" for that doesn't take away the smile they give me. Stupid or silly, whatever! I am not sure if you believe in them but anyways you can laugh if you want to. (Atleast I gave u reason to laugh :D)

Sometimes may be when I will catch (sight of) one of those FS I will end up wishing something vague, generalised which I will not even notice when it comes true because there will be so many ways for it to come true. Whats the use of wishing something like that! But by that time I will have enough starlight with me to light up my way.

My days have been very usual of late. By now you must have guessed I have nothing else to write so you just did some 'tp' over here!

Anki!

Going home :)

2006-09-20T20:57:00.000+05:30

... And its a beautiful world...
Scattered with different shades
That paint my life so well...
With a colour that never fades!!!

Celebration - This word brings in many memories before my eyes. I guess celebration is not just about festivals that come only in a particular time of the year. Its about celebrating life, celebrating the beautiful moments that I relish so very much, celebrating friendships and the company of wonderful people, celebrating togetherness as well as sometimes even solitude.

But for now, wishing you all a very Happy Durga Puja.

Yes I am happy today

Ask me not the reason

And happiness comes this way

For no cause, no season :)

Imprints

2006-09-10T04:57:00.000+05:30

... But there will still be moments in future
When a stranger would look back and say
Those imprints that you see on time
Are traces that she left on her way.

Time is all powerful. I have always wondered and even complained at the omnipotence of time. Our inability of stopping it, holding on to cherished moments, fast forwarding the ones we dont like, reviewing the ones we missed...

But may be its sometimes the omnipotence of time that actually make the moments worthwhile. If we could do all those things that I mentioned above, we would have taken time for granted, we would have never strived to make each coming moment better than the one that has left. I always wanted to think that life has to be lived in the present but I do not regret to keep away some of my precious moments for remembering the past or dreaming the future. And probably, the share that I keep away is actually a large one :D.

When we look at past, what comes to our mind are the marks that time has left on its way, the traces that can be viewed only individually. Sometimes I have wondered if it was possible to leave a trace on time - just like that. It has been a sense of wonder only...

Some things take time to sink in. I am still trying to grab my piece of cake and realise how large it is. Life keeps moving, and it better do so for when it stops at times, the moments become too large to hold. But once in a while we all look forward to some milestones in our journey - some just to help us look back and some to which even stragers can look back.

[I don't know how much of this post made sense to you but if it did not, I am sorry. You see by now you must have come to know that my cerebral journey can often lead you to some absolutely strange and insane lanes :D ]

Dreams come true

2006-09-09T01:22:00.000+05:30

"Miracles have a way of happening to those who believe in them."
I did, I do, I will... forever.

This post is a heartfelt gratitude for all the wonderful things I have had and for all the wonderful things that await me. This includes the people who have been a constant support for me.

On the strike of 00:00 hrs on 9th Sept 2006, yet another of my dream comes true. I get selected in Fair Isaac - the best company I could have thought of. My dream job! I did not apply in some of the other most wanted comapanies just because I wanted to sit for this one. At those times I didn't care whether FI will take me or not, I just wanted to sit for this one because this was the best that was offered to me.

I wanted to be here but I wasnt sure. There was just one small voice that kept telling me that I can take a chance and I just wanted to follow it. But the blow came when I came to know that probably my resume had not been short-listed. Then taking the advice of some friends and listening to that small voice of mine, I took a second chance and re-submitted my resume. Most probably my resume had never reached them and they short-listed me for the written among some 120 people (may be) after the re-submission.

Next I saw my name among the 13 people who had cleared the written and then I thought even this is worth relishing. Then after 3 rounds of interview, and waiting for some 2 hrs (just 2 hrs!, I thought I had waited for more than that!), I found myself shaking hands with the FI people for being selected as one of them!!!! :)

I have no more words. I am thrilled!!!
Thank you God. You have answered a lot of my queries.

Footprints...

2006-08-31T01:59:00.000+05:30

If you want to leave your footprints
On the sands of time
Do not drag your feet

When life permits me to look back, I always search to find the traces of steps in the roads I have taken. Sometimes when I don't find them, I wonder did I actually drag my feet there! It is hard to remember because moments move away so soon that some of them leave no marks in that portion of my mind which we call memory and in some, I leave no traces.

While transcending through the different and not so different phases of my life, I have tried to leave the previous phases in a way that I do not drag momentoes into the new phase. And later I have waited for those momentoes to enter my world at their own pace. I dream, I expect and I wish. So there have been so many such things which I have wanted to enter my present from those previous phases but sometimes they did not. During such realisations, I have consoled myself saying that they weren't worth it. But it could be that I was wrong. Had I dragged them at my own will, with my pace, may be they still would have been my present. But I could not do so then and I cannot do it in future. You see I could not leave my trace so strongly that they could have followed me. There have also been times when an unexpected part of my past had appeared all of sudden in my life and become a part of my present. That is when I realise that I have left traces even in those moments that did not make marks in my memory.

The advancing times are one of those in which I will probably enter one of my life's most different phase. There is still time, I know, but I am already observing to decide which are the ones that I want in my future, which are the ones that can follow me and which are the ones I may need to drag. Actually, it is not as difficult to identify them as it is to decide whether I would like to drag them with me. The problem this time is however that I can see those things will not follow me and if I do not drag them, its like saying I am leaving them at my own will... consciously.

Were my steps so light that I could not leave my footprints for them to follow?

ESCAPE!!!

2006-08-29T14:21:00.000+05:30

Sometimes as I walk my usual way, I have that feeling of escaping away...
Escaping to some far away place...
From this world, from reality, from everbody around me
Escaping alone... just on my own...

Do you recognise the above feeling as well as I do? I have heard, seen and felt that almost everyone around me has had this thought once in a while. So did I.

And I have found a numerous places where I escape to.

Books for instance are very common. Entering into a world of imagination not created by me. Walking into the unknown roads and discovering new places, new faces in each new page. Its like meeting new people, knowing them, understanding them and then looking into their lives. My real world fades in to a blur for the duration of my reading, I have escaped!

Then there are poems - the ones that I read are pretty similar to books. Then there are the ones that I write. Its my world. A situation I have created, assesed and reacted to. My fancy, my whim, that is not dependent on what actually happens. It takes me to the kind of world I want - the innocence of a child or the thoughtfulness of a thinker, the calmness of nature or the heights of civilization - I have escaped!

Some around 1 yr back, I discovered this one more world where I could escape at my will - the Blogsville. A world similar to the world of my books as well as my poems - this world has its own charms. I come here to walk some known paths as well as to discover some new ones ans with that sometimes I contribute to create some of its paths as well... and just like some previous moments now also I am escaping!

Sometimes I wonder, what is it that we all want to escape and what is that string which brings us back here. However much I try to escape, one thing is for sure I will come back here because I will never escape my dreams and they do have to come true :) ... some time, some day some way...

From the torn pages of past

2006-08-06T22:50:00.000+05:30

I was trying to relive the moments from my past when all of a sudden this particular thought which I have been eluding for so long knocked at the door of my mind. Ever since I started writing poems, I have been thinking of writing one on this incident... but somehow each time I felt I couldn't outline it the way I wanted to. I don't know if I could do it this time or not but this time, I decided to publish it.

May be the loooooooooooooong poem seem too boooooooooring. But you can give it a try, it is a true incident with not a single word of imagination or exaggeration.

Lost Thoughts

As a child, in my heart
A thought once appeared
The thought was precious to me
I held the thought dear
I waited so that I could
To all, make it known
That I wished to have
Have a rabbit of my own
I tended the thought with care
Each moment as I grew
And one day, that thought
Did actually come true
And on the morning of my
Special twelfth birthday
As a gift, to my home
A rabbit came to stay
Its nose was pink in colour
And eyes were burning bright
It was a bundle of soft fur
All coloured in pure white
I called it 'Honey', a sweet name
For the sweetest gift for me
Then I took it all around
For everyone to see
Honey was shy, silent too
And remained mostly hidden
The dark space beneath the cot
Was its favourite den
I brought it tender leaves to eat
And carrots for it to chew
Sometimes it just ran away
When I appeared to it as new
In few days, as time passed
It started to recognize me
It licked my hands when I came
Never again did it flee
It left its den to move around
All day it would just roam
And we found marks of its feet
Everywhere in our home
We brought a little wooden box
Where it could be then kept
With enough space where it jumped
And a couch where it slept
We took it to garden in the evening
And left it in the green
It nibbled the leaves near the ground
And ate the flowers clean
As it grew, it could not stay
Confined in the garden alone
One day it crossed the garden gate
To run among the stones
I was all too shaken
And trembled with fear
At the thought that someday
Honey could disappear
I brought it back to my home
And this time took special care
That wherever it ever went
I could always be near
Then one day I had to leave it
For quite a few days
As I was forced to go away
To some friend's place
I was assured that Honey would be
Specially taken care of
And even though I believed
My tears, I could not stop
Then when finally I returned
I found my house strange
There was silence everywhere
There was a curious change
I could not see Honey
Nowhere it was found
I searched the whole house
And the garden all around
The flowers were all blooming
The leaves were all fine
Honey had not touched them
Since long past time
The wooden box was empty
The couch was not slept on
And then I understood
Why my house was forlorn
I was taken inside softly
The truth was told to me
That the death of my Honey
Was an unknown mystery
I was told that it was fine
For two days after I was gone
And then on the 3rd morning
It was turned to lifeless stone
I heard it all silently
But did not shed a tear
And for days when I thought
Not a single drop appeared
Sometimes I went to that garden
Where my dearest Honey played
Now turned into its grave
For, that is were it was laid
Then after few more years
That place was left by me
The garden, the box, my Honey
I was never again to see
When these thoughts knocked my mind
I brushed the thoughts aside
For, I could not yet believe that
My dearest Honey had died
May be today as I wrote
About my Honey dear
I did drop a few of those
Long lost tears.

sometimes I wonder, even after such a long time, why this small (is it??) event that took place for such a small duration, should keep coming back.... it doesn't hurt me or bring me tears but I just ponder over it... just like that.

Digital Fortress

2006-07-27T01:08:00.000+05:30

If you thought I am here to discuss with you the ups and downs of Dan Brown's "Digital Fortress", you better turn back because I am not here for that. My discussion is closer to reality - the one I can see and experience.

I was reading some excerpts from the book "The World is Flat" by Thomas L Friedman. I didn't make more than 10 pages for 2 reasons - one is that I am still not used to or rather comfortable reading an e-book and second I do not have ample time to read these books at this moment. But somehow those 10 pages reignited a thought I have had some days before.

We talk about globalisation and digitalisation of this world. In fact the results are not hard to notice. I am writing this here at my room at the odd hour of 1.30 am and before I wake up from my supposed to be night slumber, you might be reading it already, some 100 miles away from here. The facilities of chatting, e-mailing has brought the far off places so near that we can voice chat with people living in other parts of the world as if they were just next door. In fact I am more connected to people living in some far off place than the person living in the next town. There are more of these from business point of view like outsourcing and all but I will not go into those things. At this moment I want to see this whole thing from a ground level state.
So now we are more connected, more in touch with people, we have transcended the barriers of distance to a great extent, we are ready to put down our views more easily and so on... the results are immense.

Really???

The truth is we have locked ourselves in the Digital Fortress. We have stopped coming out of our room to admire nature, we prefer to do so through the computer. We don't read books, we read e-books. We have lost personal touch. We prefer to talk to our next room neighbours through y/m and gtalk than face to face. We can pretend to be somebody else behind the walls of this fortress just because we don't want to be recognised. We can lie without being caught. We have forgotten how to talk, that words are not the sole means of communication, expression complement them. We have created a virtual world for ourselves and this time because we can communicate with these individual virtual worlds, this vituality has started to repalce reality. We have changed our basic human means of communication to digitalised signals and we are happy with it. Are we not?
Has all these actually brought us closer? No. It has changed the human community into a bunch of isolated nodes that are interconnected with each other. These isolated nodes are the digital fortress I am talking about. The ones we design to hide ourselves or to project ourselves according to our (or rather other's) choice.

I am not complaining. I too can see the immense opportunities that this digitalisation has opened up for us. But even all those advantages you or I can list does not have the power to break these isolated nodes. It only strengthens it and probably it will forever.

Have any of you ever heard about Johny Quest? May be this world is nearing his kind of world.

Water Water Everywhere!!!

2006-07-12T13:57:00.000+05:30

Well its rain again so whats so special about having "water, water, everywhere". Nothing except that I had a singualar experience. No, not the water actually... er...well :D
Curious? Read on.

July 12 2006.

Morning 7.00

I wake up at Anu's house to know that it had been raining for more than 3 hours and we might delay our return to the insti. Well, fine. No big deal. After some discussion we end up deciding that we will proceed as planned. So we load up our cartons in the maruti van and find some seats for ourselves as well. 5 of us - me, Anu and 3 other girls on our way to insti. All is fine, the music is on, outside its raining and we are enjoying watching the flooded surroundings. (never knew that in a few moments, the flooded surroundings will be enjoying watching us :D)

Oh by the way did I tell you, we were coming from parmanandpur, beyond the Kacheri and all. Ok, so then we reached the water tank area. The road was not visible, it was all water, water and more water. Our van in its attempt to cross the roadway stream or rivulet (whatever u wish to call) marched on, coughed twice and then to our utter bewilderment and dissapointment came to a sudden halt! The driver kept turning the keys that it might start again. But all the van had to give was coughs, more coughs and more of them with silence in between.

What next? Nothing much. 5 of us alighted from the van and started pushing it while the van still struggled with its coughs. First I thought 'thank god there are 5 of us'. But later i realised 'Well, its not that bad. In fact quite an experience'. So 1.. 2.. 3.. and here we go! and again! and yet again! Phew!!! And 1.. 2.. 3.. we go again and again and again till we reach Bhelupur and cross it and reach Diamond. Thats it! thoroughly drenched but successful, we are back seats again. Except that in less than 15 minutes our hands are once again positioned at the back of the van. And this time our legs are ankle deep in water and that too the water... you can imagine the kind of water that gets flooded in the roads. (Hey it wasnt that bad either). After this thankfully there wasn't another next time :D

We finally reach our hostel drenched, excited, exhausted and famished (had missed the breakfast). And we didnt miss the chance of a rare snap either :D

Phew! Quite an experience but once is enough. Not again!!! :D
Rain seems to have some unique journeys is store for me, last time it was the train and this time the van. :D

Of Thoughts, Words and Actions

2006-07-04T02:12:00.000+05:30

It is a cycle, we think, we say, we act and we think yet again. But how much of our thoughts are expressed into words and how much of what we say into our actions is something we will never probe into. The fact remains unquestionable that it never was and never can be 100 percent. However at the end of the day the combination of all these three have an impact on our life and more often than not on the life of others. But who are we to look into other's lives when here most of us are still struggling to consider our own.

No, I am not pondering on some philosophy, nor am I just writing down a string of confused ruminations. Life is a series of forks where we have to choose between two not necessarily vastly different, yet somewhat unsimilar options. The point however is that a single such choice can bring about turning points in life. So I come back to my first consideration - thoughts. The parameter that helps us take the first step towards the choice - the decision. The second consideration - words. Much has been said about the second step - expression. A thought that has not been expressed generally finds its way into the dumping grounds of our mind. Well, I know, not many will agree, because sometimes words do fall short and so here comes the turn of my third consideration - actions or the final step - implementation.

The fact is that in this 3 way process, the efficiency is never 100 percent. What we think and decide are not all expressed and what we say or express is never fully implemented. The final result however is not entirely dependent on just the action, it is a result of the combination of all three. Hence what is necessary is not just to be careful with our words and actions but with the origin of these two - the thoughts.

[You see I started writing this with some specific thoughts in my mind, but as I have indicated above, I may not have been able to express it fully. I hope you can fill in the gaps with your own thoughts wherever you find appropriate]

Unbound beyond the horizon

2006-05-24T15:41:00.000+05:30

When I wrote "I will be back soon.." i never thought this will be so soon, but i guess thoughts should be bound once they start flowing. At least I would not like to try so.

Actually this post is more about the opposite of its heading. Imagine getting bound by some stringent rules and limits. The truth is we all are already bound, we need not imagine it. Getting up at 7 then college/job at a particular time, coming back at a particular time and so on. But that is something we have been doing from god knows how long! But what I am talking about is not just time. What about the expectations that we have from so many people, doesn't that bound them too? And I guess that applies to all of us. Like, I can be included on either side of the table.

It is always easier to say than to do. How many time have you said something that you haven't meant just because it was appropriate in that situation or in simple words just because you were expected to say so. And how many times had you known that you were being told something just because you needed to hear that and even then couldn't say that you know it.

For once people let your thoughts flow. Let people around you not just look into the freedom of skies but have a taste of it. Tell them not where to fly but how to fly and you will see them getting beyond those limits of horizon!

Happy flying!

2006-04-03T09:18:00.001+05:30

A Birthday is a gateway between old year and new
An opening to the future where we can get a wider view
Birthdays are gateways to what future holds

And to greater understanding as the story of life unfolds.

-Anon.

Aptly said! At least in my case it does, for my birthday marks the end of another session, another year here and the period of togetherness with some people.

So this year, finally the day came (246) :D. The day started at 00.00 with bone breaking, back bashing (to say the least) bumps. The cake was cut but it ended with the cream on my face. This was the beginning.

The end however was better (actually it would have been the best if only it were not the end).

A surprise treat (!!!) (to say the least)

All in all one of my most wonderful birthday. I will save the proceedings of the day for cherishing the people present and that too through their own memory for my words may not bring out their charms as they actually were.

Of course, this birthday or its speciality is not confined to just 24 hrs. It brings with itself all the times of my laughter throughout this year. As for gifts, well there are too many to mention, I will mention just one - of all the accessories I have, the one I treasure the most, the one that I nowadays wear too often (and may this always be so) is the sweet smile (read as horrible grin) that adorns my face - a gift forever!

A princess of her own world
A girl often termed special
There is nothing so unique about her
Nothing that makes her ideal
Except that there in her vicinity
Live people who are wonderful
Who treat her in a way that
Makes her think she does rule!

For all those wonderful people of my world, here in this hostel, and here in this institute, I don't have words to say how much grateful I am for you all. And on this special day, if I were asked to make a single wish, the only wish I would ask is that may I be saved from any invidious feelings from others for all the special people I have in my life.

"Always remember you are an absolutely unique individual just like everybody else". This often makes me wonder what is so special about me. I know it today. It is not me, it is the people around me.

Seashells

2006-03-15T18:18:00.000+05:30

The earliest and maximum number of my holidays have been spent in some sea beach areas. I don't even remember the names of all the beaches I have visited. Some very unknown yet beautiful (may be more so because they were untouched by the crowds !). From the east, west and the south, of each of these directions, I have visited atleast 1 beach (mind it, atleast 1).

The mighty sea never ceases to create a feeling of awe in my heart, even today if I see one, the first things that comes to my mind are its beauty, power and the stretch of land that keeps it in check! I remember I used to walk in the beaches after sunset. Away from the crowd and near the sea, where the waves can wash my feet each time they come, and as they moved away, I used to feel the sands below my feet slowly drifting away. I remember I used to see the huge height of the approaching waves with fear and surprise and still wait there till the wave splashed into drops of white foam. Then the sun that quietly found its way beneath the cover of the large blue mass during the sunset. I used to stand in the balcony or the window just to watch that. And after that when the crowd dispersed, I used to coax my Mom and Dad to take me for a walk. A late-riser, I missed the sunrise most of the time :D.

During my visits to the beaches, other than watching the sea waves, one more thing that I spent my time was in collecting sea shells. Small. big, broken, unbroken, coloured or white, it never mattered. They were my treasure. I used to roam about and collect them. Then when my small hands could not hold any more, I deposited them to my Mom and started collecting again. :D Even today (after so many transfers) somewhere in the boxes that hold my precious treasures, there are those seashells. It just makes me smile. :)

I never thought, when I will open my closed fist to see the shells that I treasured so much, I will find nothing but trifles from my childhood.

Reality or rainbow ??!!

2006-02-21T01:04:00.000+05:30

If only this world was as we perceive it.

No, I am not compalining, but as usual just wondering.

And this is what actuated the gears of my mind.-

"The rejection of certain propositions because they contradict cherished beliefs is more common than we realize. We underestimate the extent to which our desires can influence what we accept to be true. We concieve of ourselves as eminently rational; everything we hold true to be considered the most reasonable position. This is an illusion, however. In our saner moments, we all realize that it takes little or no evidence to convince us of what we dearly want to be true and, while no amount of evidence will covince us what we cannot accept"

Well, the above view is not mine. It has been cut and pasted from something I read. But the pondering is mine, for sure. So, 'truth' or for the matter 'belief' is all relative. Does that mean, reality does not exist? Is this world we live in, all imaginary just beacuse it is all dependent on our perception. But then how can each individual's imagination be just the same. How can we all imagine the world in the same way? So this must be real. Isn't it? May be. I am not sure.

All of us must have seen a rainbow. And if we see it, we will definitely tell someone around us, "look, there is a rainbow". The other person will see it too, hardly realising that he was actually looking at a different rainbow. Scientifically, one rainbow can be seen only from one angle, so if another person is able to see the rainbow, it must be a different rainbow, one visible due to dispersion of sunlight from another water drop, that which is not visible to the first person. However both of them are sure they are looking at the same rainbow. Interesting, isnt it? The problem arises when one of the rainbows cease to exist.

Who knows, may be this 'world' or 'reality' is similar to the rainbow.

Never mind. I was just wondering. If you don't feel like, just forget it!

An Italian Delicacy

2006-02-14T11:09:00.000+05:30

Almost 1 month and I remember my first (and hopefully not the last) encounter with Tiramisu.

15th Jan
10:00

Ritu comes and tells me that, she plans to prepare an Italian Cake. The ingredients are ready and she will need a helper. Talk of cakes and I will jump at the mention of it.

14:00

So soon after the lunch I found myself in her room. The requirements placed on her table - eggs, Amul cream, coffee powder, sugar, containers, spoons, forks etc etc, and how can I forget the Italian Biscuits - ladyfingers. Anyways, I am not here to tell you the recipe of Tiramisu.

It so happened that our little adventure was waiting to strike us with small and sweet hurdles which we were absolutely unprepared for. The first happened at the start itself when while breaking the first egg, we messed up the yolk and the albumen instead of separating them. After much struggle, we managed to convince ourselves that they have been separated. The rest two eggs were broken smoothly. The 2 hours that followed were taken up by continuous beating of the eggs. At some moments we were almost close to giving up because of unavailability of electric blender but then we didn't. Finally the mixture was ready but not before making us realise that Amul cream was a bad option for making Tiramisu. We were letdown when we saw the cream fluidising our paste-like mixture. More than that we were unaware that the result of this fluidising will be more devastating in the coming hours. Anyways with a few more manipulation from our side we finally finished the paste-making process.

16:30

The next step was garnishing of the biscuits. So they were carefully placed in a thermocol box and covered with the paste made earlier. But the amount did not suffice, so the second round of paste-making started. The ingredients were bought once more and we started moving our hands yet again. While we were busy with the 2nd round, out first round of hard-work found its way out from the box through the corners and edges. :( We helplessly saw the fluidised paste trickling out of its appropriate place. :(( We were not interested to give up. So with cellotapes and polythenes, the box was mended to our best. Phew!!! 2nd round continues.

19:00

Preparation complete. Cake placed for refrigeration. Thanks to canteen. Well if only that was the end. Our plight continued as electricity decided to paly hide and seek during the entire duration of refrigeration.

23:00

Enter Tiramisu.

Looks delicious, doesn't it?

16th Jan
00:00

Ritu's BDay.
The cake is cut and tasted. We are pretty happy at the response. I of course could have onle one piece. But never mind that. The net result is that we completed the preparation, it turned out to be good enough to be eaten, I learned a new dish and more than that I enjoyed being a part of the whole thing. Thanks Ritu.

But one thing that disheartens me is that I will not be able to make it at home. So any of you going to Italy in near future, do bring me a pack of ladyfingers (tell them about Tiramisu, they will understand) .

[For Ritu's version of story, read this.]

Just remembering

2006-02-01T14:39:00.000+05:30

I dont know in which class I was, may be Vth or VIth when this incident took place.

In the backyard of our house, we had a tree. I was told it was a guava tree. It was dry, had no leaves, never did it bear even a single fruit. It did not give shade in the hot summer days, nor was it good enough to be climbed or for the use for a tree house. Basically a useless tree that we seldom noticed. It didnt come close to the house or its fence. So it was neither a treat nor a threat. Except perhaps that it engaged too much of our backyard which could have been used for something else. But I dont think any of us ever gave that a thought. In course of time we grew oblivion of its presence, watching it everyday yet never giving a thought.

One afternoon, however on returning from school, I found the backyard filled with some 2-3 people (later I was told they were from municipality). I stood there and watched them as they chopped off its topmost branches, then the lower ones... and continued till there was nothing except a stump almost at the level of the ground. I dont know how long they took, but I stood there all the while watching them and even after they were gone, I stood there.

I dont remember being sad or even thinking about it ever again. Yet yesterday I found myself narrating the whole event to a friend. Why did this incident which I never thought about came back to me after 10 years.

I wonder how many such events or things are stored safely in my mind. I wonder how many such things to which I am indifferent at present will be rememberd by me in future. Just wondering.

Counterview - "The Search"

2006-01-26T22:39:00.000+05:30

On my usual expedition of blogsville, i came across this I just want to be happy . A beautiful poem in which the essense of sorrow is brought forth in few lines. And the first part is good, she questions some of the basic activities of all of us.

Okey, so as soon as I read the poem, some thoughts flashed in my mind and I captured them in a poem of my own... here are the lines :

The Search

Melancholy is for sure
Something we all endure
Yet close our eyes to
But then isn't it true
Hopes we all clutch
Dreams we all search
God is out of our reach
Yet it is Him that we beseech
And the faraway moon of skies
Doesn't it give calmness to the eyes
Why then should we not gaze at it?
At night the burning lights are lit.
And the dream and tiny wishes
That each of us relishes
Gives us a reason to rise again
To transcend all hurting pain
Close your eyes and smile
Live your life for just this while
Your face no more will be blank
Raise your hopes that earlier sank
In the empty roads before you
There lies many moments new
Happiness, my friend is a state of mind
That only in yourself you can find

So since i have no paper at the moment, this is the only place where my thought has been preserved :).

Waise my sincere thanks to Neetie, because of whom this poem materialised. :)

[by the way, suggest me a title if you can, i have run out of titles :D]

[edited:Taking Anks' suggestion the poem has been titled "The Search"]

Some of my fav. poems

2006-01-17T23:47:00.000+05:30

Poetry is said to be the oldest form of literature, known among the ancient people of Babylon, Greece, and Rome. Poetry basically combines feelings with idea and therfore appeeals both to our mind and our heart. One more reason for which poetry stands out distinctly is the way it is written. Unlike prose, poetry is not exact and definite. The poet uses fewer words and arouses the reader's imagination. And for this purpose there are tools like imagery, figurative language, rhythm, and so on.

I started reading and enjoying poetry at the same time when I first started reading for pleasure (that was probably form class I) but my proper introduction to poetry was in class VIIth. That was when I started reading (and writing) poems with a sort of purpose, tried to understand and analyse them. I may not have always seen them in the same way as they were written (because most of the time nothing is written explicitly in the poems) but I did start seeing them in my own way and relate it to something that I know. Poems have that beautiful property... each time you read them, they bring out a new meaning, sometimes one totally different from the previous and all readers interpret them in their own way not necessarily in the way, the poet wrote them.

So here are some of the poems that I carry in my heart and mind...(and this is not an exhaustive list). For now I will list only 14 of them for 2 reasons... 1) they r on varied subjects and 2) I could find the links to these. (I would have given 15, but I lost one of the links. The poem is A Musical Instrument. See if you can find the link. )

1.Casabianca

I read this long back but even today when I read it, I get the chills in my spine and my voice gets almost choked when I reach the last stanza. I wonder if such an incident can occur in the present days!

2.O Captain! My Captain!

The poem is beautiful, but I realised its true worth when I came to know that it is a allegory. I was told it was written after the assassination of Abraham Lincoln. The rhythm is so wonderful that I keep reading it again and again.

3.Success is counted sweetest

A message that all of us realises at least once. Ask the losers what they have lost, not the winners what they have won. Emily Dickinson has written on varied subjects but her strength (I felt) is that she can bring out pain in a way that u start admiring it and well, she has a different way of looking at even the day-to-day things. But this poem still stands out!

4.I'm Nobody

I have mentioned the last stanza in a prevoius post of mine. Each time I read this, I feel the poet is sharing a secret with me and I wonder what would be my answer. I cannot disagree but I guess I cannot agree either.

5.I had been hungry all the years;

From the same poet. Is it not true that once we get what we wanted we forget its worth and if we would have not got it, it would have become all the more precious. Why is it so?

6.Song

What do you say? There are very few people who can say that they don't want to be remembered. Even I am not one of them. This poem still touches me, "if thou wilt, remember,
And if thou wilt, forget"

7.The Solitary Reaper

This one comes from the memory of my school days. And I am sure I must have reminded some of you as well. Can you hear that tune echoing in your mind? It is amazing, how words can incite our imaginations. Some of my very earlier poems are inpired by this poem. I just cannot forget it! (neither do I want to.)

8. Sweetest Love, I do not go

The words were remembered after the first time I read it :) pretty good isnt it? I dont know which is more beautiful, the words, the rhythm or the way both of them are presented!

9.La Belle Dame sans Merci

This is remembered because of my English Literature Sir. The speciality of this poem, he said, was that it can be interpreted in many ways, (3 of them I remember). I would have never gone to the depths of this without his guidance. Infact, it was he who made me realise, poems are wonderful in so many ways. I am grateful to him. As for this poem, hopefully, none of us ever get entrapped in the false enticements of this world.

10.Hope is the thing with feathers

Emily Dickinson, yet again! See the last line "Yet, never, in Extremity, It asked a crumb--Of Me". Tells everything about "hope" in so few lines. Doesn't it? I just love this poem.

11. The Road Not Taken

Well, how many of us in a situation of taking decision, decides in this way? Very few. One poem that rings in my ears if I ever feel, I am walking out of the crowd. have faith in yourself. If you cannot have, how can others?

12. Verses

The pleasures and pains of solitude all encompassed in one poem. More pain, less pleasure! All in all a poem you cannot disagree to.

13. Milk for the Cat

You know, after I read this poem, I actually observed a cat and realised it really does happen this way! Nice observation (not mine, the poet's). And of course, written in a wonderful way, I can almost see the cat. Can't you?

14. I Wandered Lonely As a Cloud

Well if I havent mentioned this, I havent mentioned anything at all. Read and enjoy. Poets like wordsworth have brought nature right in front of the readers through his poems. Nobody has to see the daffodils to realise how wonderful they are and nobody can help remembering these lines (once read) each time he/she looks at a row of flowers (not just daffodils, any flowers.)

Enjoy!!! Any choices from your side that I should read, drop in the links please.

(This had been a draft from Nov 5th 2005. I felt I shud publish it finally. Now that will keep you busy for some days. Will it not?)

Another new year.

2006-01-01T01:00:00.000+05:30

Hi ppl!!!!

Wish you all a very Happy New Year :).

New year is a time of renewing hopes, aspirations, dreams. New year means new opportunities, new gateways and new resolutions. Resolutions - that are broken too soon (so I stopped making them). And with all those new things that new year brings, new year is also a reminder that we are leaving behind another year. (On a pessimistic note, a step towards 'death' :D). New year is the time to look at the past year and sometimes even beyond that. So what did I leave behind this year - a few more friends with whom I don't have contact, some thoughts that no more come my way, and an eventful year. Eventful. I started blogging. Found some new friends. Learned to live for myself. Completed my 100th poem. Some really new lessons of life also came my way. And enjoyed a lot. (I wonder if I say the same thing at the end of every year)

Look, here is a new day
That comes knocking your door.
Not just dreams and aspirations
A New year has to be much more.
Yes, leaving behind is a part too
A year that has given much
Some dreams that came true
And some that did fall and crush
But the pieces of broken dreams
Were quietly swept away
So that they are remembered
Never again another day
And on the ruins of those
Once some soaring high dreams
Rests the foundation of hopes
That today much more means
You think I am gloomy
Crying on broken glasses?
But shouldnt we look at
The time that forever passes?

A new year brings so much with it
Yes it is a wonderful thing
On each new year, we celebrate
A new dawn, another begginning
Yet amidst those smiling faces
And the many new year wishes
The corners still steal my glance
Where lies those broken pieces.

Wishing you all a happy new year once again. I am sorry if my poem reflects a darker side of new year, actually some friends say I have a habit of looking 'beyond' :D .

-Anki

Miracle

2005-12-27T17:15:00.000+05:30

Do you believe in miracles?

I know thats a very strange question, firstly because "miracles" so to say has no defined realm. Something that seems miracle to you may seem quite an ordinary thing for somebody else. But I was still wondering how many people actually believe in miracles. I could have have asked "Do you believe in God?" as well but then that is one question to which people almost answer mechanically. I call myself Agnostic. But sometimes I wonder if I took that stance just to evade that question. Anyways I was talking about miracles. So before you think about my earlier question, you have to be clear what the word means to you.

When I was child, I always looked at dewdrops with awe and thought them to be jewels provided by nature that adorn the neck of mother earth. After sometime I realised it is just water. But then isnt Diamond that transfers its sparkle to the beholder just carbon (or should I say 'coal' to put it more crudely). So whats wrong if my precious little dewdrop transfers its sparkle to my eyes and I see it not as "just water" !

See, that morning dewdrop is a 'miracle' for me. I can cite a hundred other examples that seem a miracle from my eyes. What then is your 'miracle'?

[This post is inspired by Anks'poem (specially the last stanza) and Paulo Coelho but these are my thoughts that I have tried to put up.]