Friday, July 28, 2006


'Chacha Chaudhary's brain works faster than a computer'

This is an excerpt from a comic called Chacha Chaudhary which I used to read as a kid.
If you know my office computer - you would definitely call me Chacha Chaudhary.
My brain would always work faster than my machine - or rather anyone's brain would, coz it only crawls, looks at me innocently with its huge eyes (hourglass), keeps thinking and stops responding.
It is now, that I know that even machines age. Poor guy keeps wanting to shut down to breathe, and once he is up, just a few moments are enough to see him panting again.

Alas! If this was my old horse at the farm, I would have traded him for a younger more energetic one, but here i am destined to live with this oldie (sob! why in the world does every company have a budget!!!)

Its sad that the computer (especially mine) is not like Wine -- It does not get better with age.

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

Office cubicle

There are some moments when, Sleep becomes your best friend, embracing you as much as you want to run away. It pulls your eyelids shut, so much so, that try as you might you cannot open it.
The subconscious and the conscious mind becomes like milk and water and jhdkljlfs jfu890./sdf kjklsjf lk;lsf . dsf 239 err.. did i just give in? . He just vanquished me and I was like this mute lame animal with no choice but to accept the inevitable.

There's loud music blasting in my ear, am moving my feet continuously but hey! this adversary is stronger, He has this narcissist smirk and just waves his wand and there you go! am his baby completely.

But I accept defeat. I am a true sportsman, I respect the victors, I respect his triumph and I will never be able to have the last laugh against him. He surely is 'the one'

Monday, July 24, 2006

Its not been a good time to blog lately, - a lot of controversies have been cropping up over blog censorship - with some blogs being removed from the portal since they were explosive, offensive and more food for action than food for thought.

A blog is like a free birds' open sky, flying unfettered- no boundaries, no restrictions , no questions asked, no answers given! There's one word which kills all that though, we know it as censorship. You got what I mean dont you!

Its like telling Bryan Adams to stop singing Summer of 69 midway, its like stifling the screams of exhilaration of an olympic winner, its killing freedom, its chaining expressions, limiting you, showing a part of the ocean thats yours and obscuring the part that isnt.I strongly believe that we dont need censorship in any form : image, motion picture,print or internet.

What is needed though, is to express yourself to the point, that it does not provoke, hurt, cause distress to the masses, fly unchartered territory, but no cruel intentions anywhere! Have a concern for the race you represent, act responsibly and keep the ''Freedom of Expression" flag flying high. And lets pledge for the 'We dont need Censorship' movement all across.

Monday, July 17, 2006

There is a very sweet neighbour of mine - And this post is about him. He is Deshpande kaka, a sweet oldie uncle who is in his 70s. He is one man with a zest for life. I love his character, as cheerful as the morning flower and so positive. There is also an intelligence about this septuagenarian which is reflected in his conversations.He reads a lot, I believe, which is why his range is wide.And the best part about him is his concern for all around him.He will want to know about everybody, irrespective of how he feels that particular day. Isnt that amazing? How many of us will want to know about the other's well-being when we are besieged with innumerable issues of our own.
He proves to us, that zest and happiness do not fade with age.

I wish him the best of health always.

Sunday, July 16, 2006

Some years back I had written an article for the college dashboard, and that was on " After Death". Its something which has fascinated me over the period of time. Mysterious and enchanting, the unfortunate part is that no one alive can tell this tale. All we have are theories, And I love to theorize on what can be, speculate on the unreal.

I dont quite recollect the article exactly now, but it was kind of a fictitious account/ or rather my theory of my journey. I m just trying to put down, approximately what my article said.

I passed away yesterday, I could see my near and dear ones crying. Felt a little satisfied that I had made atleast an impact.And after a while, I realised that I could not hear them, and felt very very light.I did not know what was happening, it was kind of a zero gravity feeling, the kind that you would experience just before a flight takes off / just before the giant wheel zooms down. I guess, I was just experiencing the out of body experience - saw some movies on it - but here it was- the reality.

I could feel that I have started moving, and move I certainly did with ferocious pace. Was I just shot out of a cannon? I dont know, but this went on for a while, it must have been long enough after which there was a sudden explosion of light, so bright than even a supernova would have felt pale.

It was then that something truly astonishing happened. I saw 'him'. As they say in the Matrix movies - He was "the one". I guess I was truly very very blessed to be able to look at him.
His face - aah! No words in the English Dictionary yet to describe that, yeah No words! The face had an unmistakable aura around it.There was no halo (our movies represented God differently). But yes,the robe was all white, as bright as the face itself.

To say that I was excited was a rank understatement. I could just not stand still.In all the shivering, I posed him a barrage of questions, Where was I, What am I, Why, and many others. He stood calm, the face was absolutely still. He just spoke a sentence - an everlasting truth -
"Body is what is dead and gone, the soul never dies".

This was my article then... But I have more interpretations of this 'after death' thought, some a little different from this article then, its too vast for a post or two. Maybe sometime later...

I read this interesting article in the newspapers today, about how the soccer world cup had gripped the nation for the entire month, where soccer lovers bunked work, came into office with foggy eyes, with cough lozenges in hand and also had parched throats after screaming hoarse after every game. This did get me laughing, since this article was also describing yours truly here! I was also in this crazy enthusiasts club, where my office times were pushed back, my TV would automatically get switched on just to the 2 football channels, where sleep was a relaxation mechanism only after 3 am everyday.

And i must say, the hangover stays. Sleeping earlier makes me feel a little empty now - as if I was one of those footballers myself. I managed to watch almost all of the matches and there were some heart rending moments with my team being ousted early! But Soccer won in the end and big time! Have always believed that movies have not moved me as emotionally as sport. There are fewer moments where movies have overwhelmed me, than sports which is such a huge beautifully painted canvas, where each shade is as mesmeric as the other.
The agony of disaster and the ecstasy of triumph moves me to tears many a times.

One of those moments was D Becham sitting on the sidelines, hurt physically and heart bleeding, for his Cup was over and so was his country's and all he could do was watch.Be a spectator - Sad! A moment on the other end of the spectrum was Fabio Grosso's goal in the semifinals and his celebration. It was an undefinable emotion
One of pure unadulterated joy, of sheer disbelief and unbelievable energy. One of the games' great scenes, something that proves that if 'u think u can, u will'

I have learnt a lot of life's lessons watching sport, of how David can tame Goliath, how its always mind over matter and how expressing your emotions is good for the system :) which is why I m close to it!

To one of my teachers - Sports!

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

This was going to be a post on the Azurris winning the cup, but instead its the terror story - Mumbai 7/11

The terror story is a sad face of terrorism, of cowardice, of idiosyncrasies of a bent mind, of courage of the people, of the protectors-the cops who have been silent spectators in this hour of need.And again Mumbai rises in unison for its people, where people fought against the police to go, help its bloodied brethren -(Yes, this is not a grammatical mistake, the police were actually preventing the crowd from helping the victims, wanting to follow some rules-) bah! when so much of life is at stake? If ever there was a time to bend the rules, it is now!
And the people behind this! Where sily ideas rule their heart and kill innocent unsuspecting citizens. And what do they want to prove by encouraging terror, what will make them stop, whether they will ever be terrorized themselves - to know the pain- ?

Your guess is as good as mine--

This one is about an Algerian great.No this is not about Mother Teresa, this is about another Algerian, this one who played football, He moved to france, and we also know this man as Zizou - Zinedine Zidane.

There is one reason I love his style - and nothing, even the head butt will not lower his esteem in my hearts- and that is FLAIR. There are few people across sports who are so stylish, so skilled and who play as though they compose music, as though they are on a paragliding course across the pacific ocean, where breaking a sweat would be as rare as Rain in Sahara.Magicians in the game - i pronounce them as.

Mark Waugh, Roger federer,nick faldo - people of the same class. I love to see them in action. Like a mark Knofler song that i'd want to go on and on.

Zizou! Thou shall live on in the hearts of soccer lovers and symphony lovers for ever.

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

A great quizzing link. Which I have browsed often.
Some intelligent quizzes.

Some days back, I happened to see the movie Superman Returns, and it set me thinking a bit! No, not the actress who played Lois Lane, no she didnt catch my attention much. Its the superhero concept, of someone who rises above the masses,someone with extraordinary powers.In this contemporary world, you would think,you needed that Clark Kent, that Bruce Wayne, that Peter parker to change the wrong, to call in our needs, a more approachable version of God perhaps.We keep grumbling and complaining with our problems and hope that someone could just wave that magic wand and bring light.I guess that is unfair, like Lois Lane says 'Why the world does not need a Superman'. Its Us who have to make the change, if something has to move, we have to move as well. I shall let you know in some of my next posts whether I changed or I am still waiting for Superman!