Pretty self explanatory.
Friday, September 29, 2006
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Krrish Rocks!
So went to a friend's house for no particular reason, and ended up with a plastic model of none other than india's (something like sixteenth) "first" superhero, Krrish! 
Obviously my mobile camera, and photoshop came into the picture...
Here is Krrish in his trademark pose above the small north eastern town. Only here it is a google Earth cap of Manhatten, uncyclopedia will have a citation that Manhatten, is, in fact, located in some obscure North Eastern location... only thing is that I was too lazy to remove the Ram that was so appealing to the Nat Geo photographer...
But eventual boredom and lack of capacity to study for my upcoming exams motivated me to half heartedly try anyway... but now the scene is so empty... it needs something... probably a hot sex scene... or an action sequence... or Priyanka chopra...
With a THX sound FX to introduce it, Krrish pops out a lightsabre... and wonders what to do with it... tell him where he can shove it...
Someone apparently told him what to do with it... but forgot to mention mention what the "it" stood for... so he found Angie Everhart.
And as a finale, somewhere in the middle of this interesting photoshoot or the libido of this plastic figurine, this happened:
And THAT is the sad end to this story. How I wish Krrish would have ended up like this, and there would not be YET another sequel.
Obviously my mobile camera, and photoshop came into the picture...
Here is Krrish in his trademark pose above the small north eastern town. Only here it is a google Earth cap of Manhatten, uncyclopedia will have a citation that Manhatten, is, in fact, located in some obscure North Eastern location... only thing is that I was too lazy to remove the Ram that was so appealing to the Nat Geo photographer...
But eventual boredom and lack of capacity to study for my upcoming exams motivated me to half heartedly try anyway... but now the scene is so empty... it needs something... probably a hot sex scene... or an action sequence... or Priyanka chopra...
With a THX sound FX to introduce it, Krrish pops out a lightsabre... and wonders what to do with it... tell him where he can shove it...
Someone apparently told him what to do with it... but forgot to mention mention what the "it" stood for... so he found Angie Everhart.
And as a finale, somewhere in the middle of this interesting photoshoot or the libido of this plastic figurine, this happened:
And THAT is the sad end to this story. How I wish Krrish would have ended up like this, and there would not be YET another sequel.
Dregs
Dregs
The sun it hides behind the smog
Afraid to nurture anymore
The streams now laugh in dark humor
And birds are but for urban carrion
The seasons have turned schizophrenic
Their pass bereft of identity
We have never built, merely destroyed
We are guilty of raping
Our mother
We have milked her dry,
And now we are wasted
In the rot that remains
In the dregs
That are but a reflection
Of men
Victims not of circumstance
As the make themselves to be
But that of their decadence
And being a part of the antimovement
Is just not
My cup of tea
scene
scream at your minions
they dont really give a fuck
that's why they are here
not for your expression; theirs
dream of being their god
they dont really give a fuck
that's why they pray
not for their wellfare; yours
scheme of their destruction
they dont really give a fuck
that's why they converge
not for their protection; their ideologies
deem their laws for them
they don't really give a fuck
that's why they revolt
not for their emancipation; yours
through their expression
their ideologies will survive
and you will be emancipated
but only if you dont give a fuck
they dont really give a fuck
that's why they are here
not for your expression; theirs
dream of being their god
they dont really give a fuck
that's why they pray
not for their wellfare; yours
scheme of their destruction
they dont really give a fuck
that's why they converge
not for their protection; their ideologies
deem their laws for them
they don't really give a fuck
that's why they revolt
not for their emancipation; yours
through their expression
their ideologies will survive
and you will be emancipated
but only if you dont give a fuck
Photoshopgiri
The first pic is a composite of the second and third... light falls on a mosque or church in the middle of nowhere... although the two color photos kills the effect of the black and white, I am blogging it for some weird reason anyway. The last is a photoshop job of something I rendered long ago... really like it now. Cheers.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
The Hindi Nasal tone
Whenewher you speak in Hindi, there is this nasal tone that is incorporated without any specific matra or punctuation for it. There is no letter to say you have to go nasal... everyone just does it. Like "mein" or "haan". The weird thing is, although in the Roman script, the nasal is implied by the n at the end of the word, in Hindi, the nasal comes at the BEGGENING of the word. To use an alternative to illustrate, its "mew" not "mew". So what? Nothing really... just something I noticed...
Joke
This is a poem I found in my grandfather’s old book called “Modern Bengali Poetry”
(published in 1945).
The beauty of this is that this was only translated and published in 1945. Seeing how things would be so slow to move back in those days of turmoil, the poem had to be written atleast ten years before the English translation was published, to give sufficient time for the poetry to gain fame and deserve translation in a compilation. What amazes me is the amount of scientific knowledge Bengali poets possessed in the mid 1930s. Some of this is more than what people know about the universe even today.
Joke
Prememndra Mitra
Remember the great Joke,
In the Phantom dance of electrons
The setting sun has woven a bright border of the clouds,
And the green earth breaks in waves at the horizon.
The rain falls on the darkened town;
The gas light is caught in puddles in the streers
And slides across the asphalt.
Ah, I loved it,
The sky, the stars, the flowering grass,
And the long lashes of her eyes,
Which cast, like tall clouds, mysterious shadows
In her eye’s fathomless deeps.
Once you saw the helpless face of a child
In the street;
In the lonely sleepless night
You wept the unconsoling tears of the defeated soul,
The tears that youth alone can know;
You knew, suddenly
The infinite deep despair of sudden death
Terrible in its meaninglessness-
Know that this is but illusion
And a mirage before you.
God’s thought is just electron mathematics
Beyond the Milky Way
Covering the infinite spaces
His sport of mathematics in the nebulae
Which the strange tree
At the roadside
Stands you with the sudden shout of flowers,
And when you desire
To spread her hair across all consciousness-
Remember this game of electrons.
You may love or weep
Ask with soundless cry
The aimless question of the soul;
God’s thought is just electron mathematics
In abstract, flawless calculations.
Take comfort, from this joke of the electrons!
Yet why should I remember this?
Though there be complicated space-time geometry in the sky
The endless scribble of calculation:
For me let there be
Beyond all calculation
The irony of the we of illusion
Wrapt in the colors of intoxication,
This transitory bubble;
Birth, death, and love,
Joy, pain and the unmeaning
Prayer of the soul.
I know that this life is devoid of meaning.
But what is the use of seeing behind the joke?
(published in 1945).
The beauty of this is that this was only translated and published in 1945. Seeing how things would be so slow to move back in those days of turmoil, the poem had to be written atleast ten years before the English translation was published, to give sufficient time for the poetry to gain fame and deserve translation in a compilation. What amazes me is the amount of scientific knowledge Bengali poets possessed in the mid 1930s. Some of this is more than what people know about the universe even today.
Joke
Prememndra Mitra
Remember the great Joke,
In the Phantom dance of electrons
The setting sun has woven a bright border of the clouds,
And the green earth breaks in waves at the horizon.
The rain falls on the darkened town;
The gas light is caught in puddles in the streers
And slides across the asphalt.
Ah, I loved it,
The sky, the stars, the flowering grass,
And the long lashes of her eyes,
Which cast, like tall clouds, mysterious shadows
In her eye’s fathomless deeps.
Once you saw the helpless face of a child
In the street;
In the lonely sleepless night
You wept the unconsoling tears of the defeated soul,
The tears that youth alone can know;
You knew, suddenly
The infinite deep despair of sudden death
Terrible in its meaninglessness-
Know that this is but illusion
And a mirage before you.
God’s thought is just electron mathematics
Beyond the Milky Way
Covering the infinite spaces
His sport of mathematics in the nebulae
Which the strange tree
At the roadside
Stands you with the sudden shout of flowers,
And when you desire
To spread her hair across all consciousness-
Remember this game of electrons.
You may love or weep
Ask with soundless cry
The aimless question of the soul;
God’s thought is just electron mathematics
In abstract, flawless calculations.
Take comfort, from this joke of the electrons!
Yet why should I remember this?
Though there be complicated space-time geometry in the sky
The endless scribble of calculation:
For me let there be
Beyond all calculation
The irony of the we of illusion
Wrapt in the colors of intoxication,
This transitory bubble;
Birth, death, and love,
Joy, pain and the unmeaning
Prayer of the soul.
I know that this life is devoid of meaning.
But what is the use of seeing behind the joke?
Monday, September 25, 2006
Jhonny Walker
I walk down paths of a varying kind
Seeking sensations I don’t yet know
But merely flirting with the ones I find
Where a better high is a newfound low
These parallel paths are intertwined
Elevated to something of a thrill whore
A frantic walk with an “open mind”
These may be exciting paths to explore
I walk down paths of a varying kind
But I know that I am walking blind
Seeking sensations I don’t yet know
But merely flirting with the ones I find
Where a better high is a newfound low
These parallel paths are intertwined
Elevated to something of a thrill whore
A frantic walk with an “open mind”
These may be exciting paths to explore
I walk down paths of a varying kind
But I know that I am walking blind
Caps from Dhoom2 Theatrical Trailer
Screencaps from Dhoom2's thatrical trailer. Mostly has Hrithik Roshan sufferring from a serious Krrish hangover, pulling of rediculous stunts like skating below a sixteenwheeler, flying away from a crash site, god knows how, and parachuting right onto a running train AND skating on the rails from behind... then there is Aishwarya, not only in a bikini, but in also various other types of skimpy clothing. Bipasha, whenever she arrives on screen is fully clad, and probably has the same designer from corporate... Abhi and Udhay hardly ever show up... want to watch the movie though... for kicks, Dhoom was amazing, loved it for some odd reason, probably will love Dhoom2 as well...
Sunday, September 24, 2006
The unshow - episode III
Simple thing really, camera in front of the PC recording it, two visiting cards drawn on by none other than the one and only Chirag Mahabal. they take up the role of the two mellow, mysterious, intoxicating, and terribly terrible fucking intelligent voices.?
Googlewhack!
Just saw Dave Gorman's Googlewhack adventure, and I am just searching for googlewhacks. One thing I dug up was that every single site, probably has a googlewhack. Lets see. Its three in the morning, and I am starting to do this. ]
2:58 am
1) Tangerine Banana: 612000
2) ferrous platypus 710
3) establishmentarian bonobo 13
4) cardiovascular polyandrous 714
5) promiscuous pteranodon 1580
6) arteriosclerosis nervosa 66100
7) antedivulian parenthesis 0
8) ribosomal synergy 322000
9) mitochondrial boson 125000
10) pulmonary politics 969000
3:07 am
11) epidemiology argus 46200
12) dodecahedron multipolymerase 0
13) latitudinal gastronomy 697
14) mermaid venusian 15600
15) multifaceted burnout 80900
16) dimensional prejudices 332000
17) entombed ombudsman 1420
18) lavender samurai 248000
19) segregated metamorphosis 58900
20) endocrine paradox 172000
3:12 pm
21) concentrated oscilloscope 170000
22) parabolic anonymity 24900
23) ergonomic expatriate 30100
24) indistinguishable antiestablishmentarianism 142
25) neophyte progressivism 592
26) biblical pesticide 372000
27) unilateral peroxide 116000
28) vasodilation anteaters 219
29) triassic marauders 709
30) nautiloids persephone 18
3:22 pm
31) dehydrated immunoreactivity 352000
32) magnocellular cyanobacteria 235
33) circumstances tracheolar 75
32) refrigerator prehistoric 167000
33) tobacco mastodon 62000
34) giraffe retribution 70100
fuck it
2:58 am
1) Tangerine Banana: 612000
2) ferrous platypus 710
3) establishmentarian bonobo 13
4) cardiovascular polyandrous 714
5) promiscuous pteranodon 1580
6) arteriosclerosis nervosa 66100
7) antedivulian parenthesis 0
8) ribosomal synergy 322000
9) mitochondrial boson 125000
10) pulmonary politics 969000
3:07 am
11) epidemiology argus 46200
12) dodecahedron multipolymerase 0
13) latitudinal gastronomy 697
14) mermaid venusian 15600
15) multifaceted burnout 80900
16) dimensional prejudices 332000
17) entombed ombudsman 1420
18) lavender samurai 248000
19) segregated metamorphosis 58900
20) endocrine paradox 172000
3:12 pm
21) concentrated oscilloscope 170000
22) parabolic anonymity 24900
23) ergonomic expatriate 30100
24) indistinguishable antiestablishmentarianism 142
25) neophyte progressivism 592
26) biblical pesticide 372000
27) unilateral peroxide 116000
28) vasodilation anteaters 219
29) triassic marauders 709
30) nautiloids persephone 18
3:22 pm
31) dehydrated immunoreactivity 352000
32) magnocellular cyanobacteria 235
33) circumstances tracheolar 75
32) refrigerator prehistoric 167000
33) tobacco mastodon 62000
34) giraffe retribution 70100
fuck it
Friday, September 22, 2006
MY incoherent contributions to the eternal debate
read long argument below or answer the question rephrased in this manner: "does the chicken create another chicken through an egg, or does an egg create another egg through a chicken?"
{long argument|and to those who conclusively say that the egg came before the chicken as the chicken was hatched from an egg and only then was a chicken and before that they were all chicken in the making, not evolved chicken... then the question is, did the chicken-egg come first or the chicken. That is evolution is not such a sudden one step process... there would be at least a thousand generations of transitions before a chicken and a near chicken ancestor could be differentiated. In fact, the chicken of our own forefathers are not the chicken of today. If your argument is to be followed, then it goes to prove that chicken don't hatch from eggs at all, its like egg=>chicken=>egg+1=>chicken+1. The thing is eggs have not evolved as much as the chicken... so what really came first is... ? The question would not make sense if it is asked like "what came first, the egg, or any organism that is born out of, and lays an egg?"]
two eggs came... one by getting its cock out and the other by getting its hen out... that is what I am trying to convey
If you are terming all chicken acestors as chicken, then the chicken came first, eggs evolved later in evolution as a modified form of the placenta to keep younger ones safe....
If at the end of the universe, some guy sits and counts all the chicken-eggs ever created and all the chicken ever created, then he would find that there have been more eggs than chicken (evolution: overproduction). After he would do this, if he would distrbute chicken and eggs evenly over time, since there would be more eggs, eggs would have come first. Therefore, statistically speaking, eggs came first.
Note: The accepted scientific answer is that eggs came first as chicken before that were not chicken but chicken ancestors.
{long argument|and to those who conclusively say that the egg came before the chicken as the chicken was hatched from an egg and only then was a chicken and before that they were all chicken in the making, not evolved chicken... then the question is, did the chicken-egg come first or the chicken. That is evolution is not such a sudden one step process... there would be at least a thousand generations of transitions before a chicken and a near chicken ancestor could be differentiated. In fact, the chicken of our own forefathers are not the chicken of today. If your argument is to be followed, then it goes to prove that chicken don't hatch from eggs at all, its like egg=>chicken=>egg+1=>chicken+1. The thing is eggs have not evolved as much as the chicken... so what really came first is... ? The question would not make sense if it is asked like "what came first, the egg, or any organism that is born out of, and lays an egg?"]
two eggs came... one by getting its cock out and the other by getting its hen out... that is what I am trying to convey
If you are terming all chicken acestors as chicken, then the chicken came first, eggs evolved later in evolution as a modified form of the placenta to keep younger ones safe....
If at the end of the universe, some guy sits and counts all the chicken-eggs ever created and all the chicken ever created, then he would find that there have been more eggs than chicken (evolution: overproduction). After he would do this, if he would distrbute chicken and eggs evenly over time, since there would be more eggs, eggs would have come first. Therefore, statistically speaking, eggs came first.
Note: The accepted scientific answer is that eggs came first as chicken before that were not chicken but chicken ancestors.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Lage Raho Munnabhai
The movie is almost flawless... amazing production values, great story, amazing casting, well chosen guest appearences and cameos, but everything pales in front of the theme, which just explodes right out of the theater. I mean you are sitting at a restaurant, two people bump into each other, say sorry and move on. That's not the influence of the movie, the influence is a guy on ANOTHER table, commenting "In log Munnabhai dekh ke aye kagta hai" (These guys must have just seen Munnabhai).
The film is about Gandhism - without the Gandhi. There was a show on headlines today, congress seemed to be very please with the movie, and they were discussing whether Mahatma was a sad thing they did to Bapu. I don't care, and HT got it wrong... Gandhi is totally out of the equation... he just gave the ideology, and then vanished. Its our respnsibility to see if this ideology is a better option... that's all the movie says, and it does this in the most amazing way. It shows how one can be a gandhivadi in practical, everyday situations, like choosing a good boyfriend, or being faced with curroption, or people who spit too much. Each scene in the movie is a challenge to gandhism that is faced by the chars in the movie. And the most amazing thing is that they conclusively show that this philosophy is within all of us, we just need to look inside our hearts to find it. Amazing movie.
People are however still suspicious of anything with a political color on it, and the movie will be hated by a few unnecessarily because of people who will say this has come out as a gimmick close to the blast trials, and be suspicious of the congress being so happy about this movie. The opposition can however not say anything, even if all of this is true, because the movie is NOT political in the remotest sense. Must watch. Probably going again.
The film is about Gandhism - without the Gandhi. There was a show on headlines today, congress seemed to be very please with the movie, and they were discussing whether Mahatma was a sad thing they did to Bapu. I don't care, and HT got it wrong... Gandhi is totally out of the equation... he just gave the ideology, and then vanished. Its our respnsibility to see if this ideology is a better option... that's all the movie says, and it does this in the most amazing way. It shows how one can be a gandhivadi in practical, everyday situations, like choosing a good boyfriend, or being faced with curroption, or people who spit too much. Each scene in the movie is a challenge to gandhism that is faced by the chars in the movie. And the most amazing thing is that they conclusively show that this philosophy is within all of us, we just need to look inside our hearts to find it. Amazing movie.
People are however still suspicious of anything with a political color on it, and the movie will be hated by a few unnecessarily because of people who will say this has come out as a gimmick close to the blast trials, and be suspicious of the congress being so happy about this movie. The opposition can however not say anything, even if all of this is true, because the movie is NOT political in the remotest sense. Must watch. Probably going again.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
So there!
Ok... one at a time please... there isnt enought to shove it all in. what? I donno. You tell me. There are enough to go around, but they all come to ME. Every single fucking thing. What is the experiment? I dont know. I am just tested. Tested to see how well I can eschew the trend. And the trend? That is tested too... to see how worthy it is... how quickly it can spread. And how quickly can it spread? I dont know. The results are not out yet. In fact, someone lost track of the whole experiment long ago and began to spew nonsense. I am not doing it. I am blogging. Same difference. Hey, if I didn't make you think, that's your fault. Dont blame me, I was just releasing some weird energy that absolutely required me to post something here.... my fingers were dying to type. What? I don't know. I am still doing it. Do my fingers have a brain of their own? I don't know. Have I come into relatively rational thought? Yes. Have I gained the ability to let my consciousness loose? No. Have I lost it? Yes. Will I try and go there again? Yes. This is not the experiment. This is another line of parallel thought which is about to be revealed to a lot of random people with no lives, but most importantly, me. No speculation is involved, no forethought in the formation of these sentences. No delibrate effort in their malformation either. Damn... the mind returns to organised thought pretty soon. I have really lost it. Will try again. This is fun to do. Here goes. Two seconds of blankness... then... off I go... stabs. Stabs are irritating. You have no clue from where they show up, but they invariably do. The work of an artist is probably relevent because of the amount of ex
phone call. Bye. Pics later.
phone call. Bye. Pics later.
Monday, September 18, 2006
err...
Like one of the freakiest things about the whole time flowing backwards idea (basically scientists have come up with this concept that all the dark metter in the universe, regions of extreme darkness, are all areas where time actually flows the other way around... which means everything unhappens in these regions) is the devolvement or the undevelopement of the consciousness... it would be a wonderful feeling, for example, read, and then untype this post, and then make my fingers hover over the keyboard in thought whule I (un)think about how to (un)express my thoughts before (un)writing this post. It would also be cool, for example, to say, read a poem after you appreciate the significance and the beauty of the peom, and at the end (or beggening) of the un-reading, you will end up forgetting about all the complex thoughts the poem managed to bring about! In fact, the thought has never occured to you in the first place, it is something that is bygone... err... it is something that will happen, but you wont expirience it because your life is being played backwards. I am precisely talking about thinking backwards... and all the interesting things that will be a fallout to this interesting things like solutions will dissolve into problems, technology will all run backwars, with sucessive models ofsay iPods having lesser features than the previous, the entire civilisation will climax in cavemen undiscovering rire and running back up the trees... and probably heading back into the water as well, and finally unbirthing into small one celled creatures. Too comlicated to think about?
Actually, this way around, life will actually be simpler. Unthink about it. Even in this time's arrow, if you unget what I mean.
Actually, this way around, life will actually be simpler. Unthink about it. Even in this time's arrow, if you unget what I mean.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
The Unshow - episode II
fake promise to be regular from now on... too many problems in the makin, but now will use original animations mostly... this was too funny for me... so presenting...
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
You know you are spending too much time away from home when:
1) You wake up and feel disoriented after seeing your own room arond you
2) You dream of the familiarity of your own toilet
3) You feel a jolt of longing everytime a song in your winamp playlist plays anywhere else
4) Your bed is used as a spare cupboard - by the rest of the family
5) You have to google your bookmarks all over again
6) Home cooked food tastes exotic and delicious
7) You take wrong turns to the loo in the middle of the night
8) You forget where the switches for the fans/lights are
9) Being able to do all those things you do when you are alone in the room
10) You start missing, longing for, and realising the importance of things you never even noticed before... like the particular comfort of your favorite rug, the arrangement of your PC, the size and shape of your television, and the joy of not seeing someone else struggling with the keys...
2) You dream of the familiarity of your own toilet
3) You feel a jolt of longing everytime a song in your winamp playlist plays anywhere else
4) Your bed is used as a spare cupboard - by the rest of the family
5) You have to google your bookmarks all over again
6) Home cooked food tastes exotic and delicious
7) You take wrong turns to the loo in the middle of the night
8) You forget where the switches for the fans/lights are
9) Being able to do all those things you do when you are alone in the room
10) You start missing, longing for, and realising the importance of things you never even noticed before... like the particular comfort of your favorite rug, the arrangement of your PC, the size and shape of your television, and the joy of not seeing someone else struggling with the keys...
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
freaky
Simple thing really, but am trying to make the same impact the thought had on me, so: A thought Experiment: Imagine every one on the planet dedicated to one task. A task of making something immortal. Not converting something that is bound to die out, but just but creating something new that will be immortal. Now imagine, every single person given this responsibility, and their entire lives being played out only to achieve this end. It takes so long to create that generations come and go and the work carries on. Now imagine people lose their sense of responsibility and botch up. They waste too much time fighting, or stress to much on religion, or anything that YOU personally feel are major problems to the evolution of this society. Now imagine, every single word here being true. Its our history man.
Monday, September 11, 2006
MOVE ON FREAKS!
Its ok for one guy to bear the burden of his expirience... but for Mankind to be pre-occupied with history, and almost all of which they had no role to play in, is just fucking stupid. Its not even a problem that we spend so much time chasing these questions, but it is that we require more than a practical idea of our past, we are attempting the impossible to create a real picture of something that is lost to and on us by trying to figure out a veritable mess despite knowing that most of it is distorted and that it was written by the winners. What we understand of our past and the part of our culture that relates to it will be elusive anyway... I am not saying that we should stop seeking answers because we know that they are all going to be wrong a little into the future, what I am saying is that we dont need to place undue emphasis on things that dont really matter, and let it affect our personal lives, or the lives of people we have undeserved control over... Comemmorate the national song, celebrate Shivaji's birthday on this day, was Jesus really God's sun, did the Ramayan really take place...
The distortion theme works well... like Chaos Theory applied to history you know... a Butterfly efectish movie called the noise of time or something.
The distortion theme works well... like Chaos Theory applied to history you know... a Butterfly efectish movie called the noise of time or something.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
realization
Nice topic... heavily loaded word and has a lot of meaning attached to it which will make you expect something really mind boggling. Fucks to you... a revalation can be that the guy picking his nose in the train has to indulge in it - it relaxes him and more importantly, his nose is full of shit which is better out than in, lest flecks of it fly out and meet your tongue in the middle of the conversation. Ofcourse, a truer realization would be never to talk to people digging their noses because they will rpobably have loosened all the shit in their noses and it is likely to fly out...
The realization here, is however that drinking is commonly percieved as a nusience, if that is how the fucking word is spelt. Just came back from a small adventure with a long story behind it. No doubt the people actually involved can relate it better, but they are in no condition to blog, and are all hopefully safely home, which, I doubt. What happened was that a bunch of guys got shit drunk (long history involving various extravagant and probably made up love lives, all stemming from a general frustration), realized that one of their homes they were gonna crash in was not free after all (long history involving obscure plans about Pune made by the parent of one of the boys, which got cancelled, because of another long history behing it)... and all of them were stuck at checknaka with nowhere to go...
I got a call and this is where I fit into the drama. I did nothing but send them all home in various states of drunkenness, but it was funny/sad/ and more importantly, here the title fits in, and damn realisational (if that is a word) that drunk people make utter fools of themselves. The rickshaw driver was laughing, so were all those chindi people who man those chinese food corners, and frankly, so was I. Sorry to say, but it was funny.
This brings into perspective all the times I have been drunk. Fortunately, most of my friends were not too cruel to me and were pretty nice to me, but everyone thinks drunkards are gonners, and it is pretty much true... cannot blame them. All I have to say is this... whatever pleasure you can get while laughing at a drunk is not in the least bit comparable to the pleasure the drunk gets laughing at you. Cheers.
Pune. Visarjan. Booze. Tomorrow. Cheers.
The realization here, is however that drinking is commonly percieved as a nusience, if that is how the fucking word is spelt. Just came back from a small adventure with a long story behind it. No doubt the people actually involved can relate it better, but they are in no condition to blog, and are all hopefully safely home, which, I doubt. What happened was that a bunch of guys got shit drunk (long history involving various extravagant and probably made up love lives, all stemming from a general frustration), realized that one of their homes they were gonna crash in was not free after all (long history involving obscure plans about Pune made by the parent of one of the boys, which got cancelled, because of another long history behing it)... and all of them were stuck at checknaka with nowhere to go...
I got a call and this is where I fit into the drama. I did nothing but send them all home in various states of drunkenness, but it was funny/sad/ and more importantly, here the title fits in, and damn realisational (if that is a word) that drunk people make utter fools of themselves. The rickshaw driver was laughing, so were all those chindi people who man those chinese food corners, and frankly, so was I. Sorry to say, but it was funny.
This brings into perspective all the times I have been drunk. Fortunately, most of my friends were not too cruel to me and were pretty nice to me, but everyone thinks drunkards are gonners, and it is pretty much true... cannot blame them. All I have to say is this... whatever pleasure you can get while laughing at a drunk is not in the least bit comparable to the pleasure the drunk gets laughing at you. Cheers.
Pune. Visarjan. Booze. Tomorrow. Cheers.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
kkkkkkkkk
I am terribly bored and sleepy. So what will I do? Write another story about being bored and sleepy? Nyah. No way. No chance in hell. In fact, I probably wont write a poem at all and relate instead, an anecdote, however uninteresting, for the sake of fuelling my dead blog along. Now I am saying this for forks sake, and have no interest beyond the matter that for some reason, all of this actually happened (though you will soon find out that what happened wasn't sufficienty great to be given this not-so-great -ut-still-trying-hard buildup)... ok I have lost the thread of the sentance, and a little more of my precious sleep, eyelids being the portal to a pretty damned fucked dimension... for later use.. anyway, so forks... there was a fork at this place where you get wraps and I stuck it in my head after being inspired By John Abraham who once mistook a feather for a fork, or so I believed. either way I was moving around looking like John Abraham, and a friend and I were discussing the innovative uses of a fork. Our combined cranial efforts resulted in: 1) To stab someone 2) Comb 3) retina stealer for high security entrances 4) Toothpick 5) Nosepick (other end) 6) Earpick 7) Scratcher aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand 8) eating. what the fuck. Now am in the mood to write a poem. Something that will be critiqued as a contemporary attempt to experience the power of the internet to mentally stagnate everyone into thinking the same things through the medium of poetry. On that literary note, to which I will return to in a short span of time, after a detour into examining the use and effects of cliches, I now make a short and unnecessary detour into the examining the use and effects of cliches. One: Make movies/ Novels/ Stories and Songs ADHERE to cliches as much as possible. The art is not in the creation of new forms, but in the depiction of the cliches. If you have any doubts on this one - Shakespeare, played with Cliches only. To give a more recent example, all of Jeffery Archer's stories are full of stupid cliches... told in the most amazing manner ever. Deviation from the cliches makes the movie weird, difficult to grasp and uninteresting. Ah screw that, detour done, back to the point where I write the poem afterall, it had a point, but I forgot, so I will write a totally different poem about something contemporary in as different a manner as possible. The poem is titled 'why the zeros walked in line'.
God Said
Let there be light
My literary endeavors are hampered by the fact that a call came right now by a friend who has crashed out at checknaka. Bastard is so fucking tully that he cant move and he is talking in weird ways. Will catch him and will be back. Cheers to people.
God Said
Let there be light
My literary endeavors are hampered by the fact that a call came right now by a friend who has crashed out at checknaka. Bastard is so fucking tully that he cant move and he is talking in weird ways. Will catch him and will be back. Cheers to people.
Sunday, September 03, 2006
I thought I lost this piece of shit
Ok so way back in first sem, our first assignment was to write something about life... The assignment I was given was “life is like the waves of the ocean which takes you to new lands” or something like that. Because of obvious widespread protest, the topic was changed to “life is like…” I came up with some boring old thing that culminated in the words “life is exactly all about finding out what exactly life is all about... and we had to write a lot of it in around fifteen minutes... two pages to be precise, and the impression it created for my class was mostly derived out of this attempt, along with a certain fateful party, but this was the first. And a year later, I was asked to speak the same shit out, but I couldn't, and now I found the original. Without further ado (except to note that I am no longer proud of this, and never found it clever):
Life is…
Life is a four letter word – S-H-I-T. Life is like shit, because you get flushed. You influence the color and texture of other lives in your journey. You also get influenced by the color and texture of other lives. The more you move towards the end of your journey, the less do other lives influence you. About midway through your journey, you achieve a consistent color and texture in your life, which you will retain for the most of your remaining journey.
At the fag end of your journey, you become diluted and uninteresting and begin to lose your essence (smell). Finally, you come out of the drainage system and are swallowed up by the vast ocean. This is probably why some people feel that life takes you to the shores of distant lands like the waves of the ocean.
Life is…
Life is a four letter word – S-H-I-T. Life is like shit, because you get flushed. You influence the color and texture of other lives in your journey. You also get influenced by the color and texture of other lives. The more you move towards the end of your journey, the less do other lives influence you. About midway through your journey, you achieve a consistent color and texture in your life, which you will retain for the most of your remaining journey.
At the fag end of your journey, you become diluted and uninteresting and begin to lose your essence (smell). Finally, you come out of the drainage system and are swallowed up by the vast ocean. This is probably why some people feel that life takes you to the shores of distant lands like the waves of the ocean.
Saturday, September 02, 2006
yet another one before the bed
Sometimes when I look at the sky at night, even when it is cloudy, sprinkled all over the place are these tiny dots of light... imagine, that is all our ancestors ever saw of those lights, even as the enormous fusion globes emitted the light we see when they were walking this earth. The sheer magnitude, not of the cosmos, THAT can never really get to anyone, but the size of each of the small dots of light can be appreciated with some mediocum of imagination. The night sky is not starved of suns. This is probably the fourth poem written when I am sleepy: The eternal stars silently spy/ and crickets croak in their keep/ all the lights flicker and die /my eyelids droop for want of sleep. Owls wing their ways softly by/ the mellow moonlight boldy gleams/ in the deep of the twilight sky/ and my mind tires for want of dreams
Friday, September 01, 2006
eh?
Orkutting is fun, but sleep is better. Like there is nothing like longing to sleep so hard to inspire poems about longting to sleep hard. The third one so far: again, no br tages embedded: Thoughts don't enter your dreams/ Insomnia keeps them free/ but let that deep slumber/ search my dream for me. My insomnia searches for me/ of that slumber deep/ where I'd be free of thoughts/ of falling fast asleep. I enter that deep slumber/ where thoughts are set free/ In search of those dreams /my insomnia keep from me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)