*This is a little piece about a very early morning/very late night walk that I took not too long ago*
The cold dawn was a delight,
The wincing dog a fright.
The emptiness of the land made it tranquil,
yet sudden bursts of noise proved it fragile.
The sharpness in the air was fresh and crisp,
the dewdrops on the leaf edge's looked they wanted to leap and take a risk.
The orange streetlights stood majestically tall,
But they knew that at sunrise, their reign would fall.
The newspaper boy with his bundles cycled hard,
as the white haired figure stretched himself quietly on the yard.
At the distance, the pinkish orange hue rears its gorgeous head,
the young woman rolled around playfully and went back to bed.
The few stars that one could see, slowly faded out,
the frail radio produced white noise, as if it were still in doubt.
Everything at this hour appeared to be aware of its impermanence,
The moments seemed unafraid of the future tense.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Monday, November 21, 2011
Endeavour
*Caveat : Made this up in about 15 mins on a bus journey back from work*
Endeavour endeavour,
Give up never.
Closure and Completion
Success with determination.
Numerous are the snakes in the world,
Who will try to get your head in a twirl.
Ignore their hissing tongues,
For they are filled with venom.
Brush off those praises,
they come only in phases.
Don't mind those setbacks,
They are but small thorns in your tracks.
Make everything a memory,
for objects come with a date of expiry.
Be nice to people,
They will one day help you when you are feeble.
Believe in a cause,
Be steadfast in your thoughts.
Take one day at a time,
For the underprivileged, do spare a dime.
Let the world your actions behold,
And your legend for generations will be told.
Endeavour endeavour,
Give up never.
Endeavour endeavour,
Give up never.
Closure and Completion
Success with determination.
Numerous are the snakes in the world,
Who will try to get your head in a twirl.
Ignore their hissing tongues,
For they are filled with venom.
Brush off those praises,
they come only in phases.
Don't mind those setbacks,
They are but small thorns in your tracks.
Make everything a memory,
for objects come with a date of expiry.
Be nice to people,
They will one day help you when you are feeble.
Believe in a cause,
Be steadfast in your thoughts.
Take one day at a time,
For the underprivileged, do spare a dime.
Let the world your actions behold,
And your legend for generations will be told.
Endeavour endeavour,
Give up never.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
A Red Afternoon
It was a hot afternoon in the middle of May. He hurriedly opened the window, for ventilation. It also diluted the smell inside the room. Wiping the few pearls of sweat from his brow, he looked calmly around at the mess. Blotches of red could be seen on the floor & the platform. It was dead silent. It was done. He would not think of the consequences.
He silently opened the tap and washed some stains from his hands. Slowly discarding his t-shirt, he rubbed the stains off it. He had had enough of the nagging, the complaints, the constant taunting. Today he decided to take matters into his own hands. He had spent all morning preparing himself, mentally more than anything else, while she had gone out for her regular Sunday morning walk and groceries.
The next thing he wanted to do was clean up the bloody damn mess that it was. He sprinkled some water around the room and started wiping away the stains of the event. A few objects in the room had been strewn about, even though he had gone about the whole thing in a meticulous manner. He set them straight and in their place. He looked and the knife while picking it up, breathing heavily. His mind was blank. He had almost inflicted some cuts on his fingers. He took the cleanest cloth he could find around and scrubbing the sides of the blade, he placed it into the rack from where he had taken it.
He did not feel any remorse or regret. He understood deep inside that this was the only way he could shut her up. He could not and would not discuss this with anyone he thought to himself. But it was a victory of sorts.
After the cleaning and removal of all traces, he stood there staring at his doing, like a gladiator who had slain his enemy after a tough battle. “My masterpiece”, he said to himself. He moved to allow himself a glass water, when he heard some footsteps coming in through the gate.
Suddenly the air of stillness was disturbed. He panicked. Gritting his teeth, he finally surveyed the room for any traces of anything that would implicate him. Then picking up his slightly damp t-shirt in one swift movement, he waltzed into the bedroom and closed the door behind him.
He sat on his bed. He sat on the edge of his bed, to be precise. Beneath the unflinching exterior, his heart was pounding. Slowly stroking his French beard, he was conjuring up a million scenarios in his head. He had promised himself to not worry about the consequences of the action, but he was now a little scared.
A few minutes had passed. The moments were unbearable. Then a sharp scream pierced the silence. It was his wife’s voice. The door opened, they stared at each other for a second. Then with a doubtful smile on her face she shouted, “ Aye, did you make that rasam ? ”.
He silently opened the tap and washed some stains from his hands. Slowly discarding his t-shirt, he rubbed the stains off it. He had had enough of the nagging, the complaints, the constant taunting. Today he decided to take matters into his own hands. He had spent all morning preparing himself, mentally more than anything else, while she had gone out for her regular Sunday morning walk and groceries.
The next thing he wanted to do was clean up the bloody damn mess that it was. He sprinkled some water around the room and started wiping away the stains of the event. A few objects in the room had been strewn about, even though he had gone about the whole thing in a meticulous manner. He set them straight and in their place. He looked and the knife while picking it up, breathing heavily. His mind was blank. He had almost inflicted some cuts on his fingers. He took the cleanest cloth he could find around and scrubbing the sides of the blade, he placed it into the rack from where he had taken it.
He did not feel any remorse or regret. He understood deep inside that this was the only way he could shut her up. He could not and would not discuss this with anyone he thought to himself. But it was a victory of sorts.
After the cleaning and removal of all traces, he stood there staring at his doing, like a gladiator who had slain his enemy after a tough battle. “My masterpiece”, he said to himself. He moved to allow himself a glass water, when he heard some footsteps coming in through the gate.
Suddenly the air of stillness was disturbed. He panicked. Gritting his teeth, he finally surveyed the room for any traces of anything that would implicate him. Then picking up his slightly damp t-shirt in one swift movement, he waltzed into the bedroom and closed the door behind him.
He sat on his bed. He sat on the edge of his bed, to be precise. Beneath the unflinching exterior, his heart was pounding. Slowly stroking his French beard, he was conjuring up a million scenarios in his head. He had promised himself to not worry about the consequences of the action, but he was now a little scared.
A few minutes had passed. The moments were unbearable. Then a sharp scream pierced the silence. It was his wife’s voice. The door opened, they stared at each other for a second. Then with a doubtful smile on her face she shouted, “ Aye, did you make that rasam ? ”.
Sunday, August 07, 2011
The Bald and The Beautiful
There was once a study that I read, it said that only 34 % of human males do not worry about how they look. This little blogpost is for a small percentage of the remaining 66 % who tend to fret about their receding hairlines, pimples and paunches.
Ok guys. I know how it feels, to wake up and realise that suddenly you are going to be one of those guys who will be referred to as “the baldie”, “takloo”, “abbe ganje”, “dei sottai” and all those nasty things. I will start getting such compliments in a few years. But do not feel bad or disheartened. It is just another way for society to make fun of people they can’t really comprehend like geeky Nobel laureates, business gurus with paunches or those selfless social workers with crooked teeth.
Have you noticed how most of the cleverest people you know around are bald ? Yes, do a little mental survey. The hair roots I am told tend to get loose because of the heat generated by the brain. So more the brain usage, more the balding. They will tell you its genetics. Nuh uh ! You’re just plain smarter than the rest of them with those hairy mops.
Also there is an advantage that most of the scientific minded will readily agree to. When designing automobiles, there is a concept that one has to keep in mind called Aerodynamics. As with the automobiles, the same concept can be applied to humans. Imagine the air resistance with all that hair on your head. So naturally, it is safe to assume that all bald men are more aerodynamic than their gelled hair counterparts.
Case in point, the Mahatma. By my calculations, if he did have a head full of curly hair by the time he did the Dandi march, he would have taken exactly 3 years and 2 months more to complete his march and would have been 23 % more tired after every long walk. Lesser load, more aerodynamics.
Do you really think Ronaldo would be able to get past all those defenders with such mercurial ease if he had a mop of hair disturbing his vision and adding to his load ? Nope. Never.
Let me stop giving examples of famous people and talk about normal people like you and me.
Example #1 : Man A has hair. Man B is bald. 2 mad dogs start chasing them. A and B start running. A’s hair starts falling from the sides of his head and he has to adjust them to achieve maximum speed, dog catches up. Cut to the climax , A is next seen screaming in the doctor’s office while getting a shot. B meanwhile just takes 6 seconds to achieve maximum speed, and effectively evades the pursuing mentally disturbed canine.
Example #2 : A & B live in a place where it rains a lot and don’t have the greatest of immune systems. It rains on A, his hair gets wet. He gets a cold, then a fever, then again visits the doctor. B meanwhile walks happily in the rain without any such consequences.
Example #3 : The Personal Care market is booming. Metrosexuality is now quite normal. The good shampoos/gels/oils cost anywhere between Rs.50 – 200 these days. A decent barber charges Rs.50 for a haircut. Combs can start at Rs.10 and go all the way upto 200 for the fancy hairbrushes. So who gets to save more, A or B. Simple isn’t it.
Example #4: Anyone who has studied high school physics will agree that shiny surfaces tend to reflect more heat than they absorb. So that makes bald people more immune to hot places such as our wonderful country.
So being bald makes you more athetically agile, literally cooler and life just gets more economical. Some more money to spend on the girlfriend/wife or yourself. And if you get bored of looking the same all the time, experiment with your facial hair.
Another point I would like to reiterate to the 66 % of the people who worry about their looks. Don’t let anyone tell you that you won’t look good if you go bald. Bruce Willis, Jeremy Piven, Jason Statham & Mark Strong immediately come to mind . Jason was also an Olympic swimmer, and Usain Bolt ran like a bolt of lightning, aerodynamics at work people !
So the next time anyone says something about the lack of hair on your head, you know what to say right !
Disclaimer : The contents of this entire post are meant to be taken in a lighten vein and the author means no offence to anyone famous mentioned in this post. Not like they care anyway.
Ok guys. I know how it feels, to wake up and realise that suddenly you are going to be one of those guys who will be referred to as “the baldie”, “takloo”, “abbe ganje”, “dei sottai” and all those nasty things. I will start getting such compliments in a few years. But do not feel bad or disheartened. It is just another way for society to make fun of people they can’t really comprehend like geeky Nobel laureates, business gurus with paunches or those selfless social workers with crooked teeth.
Have you noticed how most of the cleverest people you know around are bald ? Yes, do a little mental survey. The hair roots I am told tend to get loose because of the heat generated by the brain. So more the brain usage, more the balding. They will tell you its genetics. Nuh uh ! You’re just plain smarter than the rest of them with those hairy mops.
Also there is an advantage that most of the scientific minded will readily agree to. When designing automobiles, there is a concept that one has to keep in mind called Aerodynamics. As with the automobiles, the same concept can be applied to humans. Imagine the air resistance with all that hair on your head. So naturally, it is safe to assume that all bald men are more aerodynamic than their gelled hair counterparts.
Case in point, the Mahatma. By my calculations, if he did have a head full of curly hair by the time he did the Dandi march, he would have taken exactly 3 years and 2 months more to complete his march and would have been 23 % more tired after every long walk. Lesser load, more aerodynamics.
Do you really think Ronaldo would be able to get past all those defenders with such mercurial ease if he had a mop of hair disturbing his vision and adding to his load ? Nope. Never.
Let me stop giving examples of famous people and talk about normal people like you and me.
Example #1 : Man A has hair. Man B is bald. 2 mad dogs start chasing them. A and B start running. A’s hair starts falling from the sides of his head and he has to adjust them to achieve maximum speed, dog catches up. Cut to the climax , A is next seen screaming in the doctor’s office while getting a shot. B meanwhile just takes 6 seconds to achieve maximum speed, and effectively evades the pursuing mentally disturbed canine.
Example #2 : A & B live in a place where it rains a lot and don’t have the greatest of immune systems. It rains on A, his hair gets wet. He gets a cold, then a fever, then again visits the doctor. B meanwhile walks happily in the rain without any such consequences.
Example #3 : The Personal Care market is booming. Metrosexuality is now quite normal. The good shampoos/gels/oils cost anywhere between Rs.50 – 200 these days. A decent barber charges Rs.50 for a haircut. Combs can start at Rs.10 and go all the way upto 200 for the fancy hairbrushes. So who gets to save more, A or B. Simple isn’t it.
Example #4: Anyone who has studied high school physics will agree that shiny surfaces tend to reflect more heat than they absorb. So that makes bald people more immune to hot places such as our wonderful country.
So being bald makes you more athetically agile, literally cooler and life just gets more economical. Some more money to spend on the girlfriend/wife or yourself. And if you get bored of looking the same all the time, experiment with your facial hair.
Another point I would like to reiterate to the 66 % of the people who worry about their looks. Don’t let anyone tell you that you won’t look good if you go bald. Bruce Willis, Jeremy Piven, Jason Statham & Mark Strong immediately come to mind . Jason was also an Olympic swimmer, and Usain Bolt ran like a bolt of lightning, aerodynamics at work people !
So the next time anyone says something about the lack of hair on your head, you know what to say right !
Disclaimer : The contents of this entire post are meant to be taken in a lighten vein and the author means no offence to anyone famous mentioned in this post. Not like they care anyway.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Moments, Things and Times
Middle income group, middle class values. Engineering. Post Grad after CAT. There was the heavy metal phase, there were the college fests. Those times when you just sat and pondered. My special place was the road going to Whisper Valley from Jubilee Hills from you could see a huge expanse of Tolichowki and beyond.
The eternal conflict between doing good for the world and being selfless, that 8 letter word, IDEALISM and doing what was needed REALISM.
The muses, the ones that made you feel like a better person, the ones that were there during those testing times. The need to express. The need to be heard. Making sense of all the scribbling. Imagining the future. Friends that you drifted away from. Friends that kept in touch. The long aimless walks, the sweaty t-shirts. The joy of the mountains. Discovering strangers on strange journeys.
Cold nights. Colder mornings. That favourite pair of shorts that ripped after football practice. Jazz. Aldous Huxley. King Arthur. Thiruvalluvar. Carnatic Music. MMTS Train rides to the last stop and back.
The dreams of meaningful work, of insouciant travels, of excitement, of adulthood. Wordly worries. The fragility of life. The futility of stress. The attachment to materialistic things and cities. The time-space continuum and all of us mortals. Also change/transformation. Although gradual, maybe.
The eternal conflict between doing good for the world and being selfless, that 8 letter word, IDEALISM and doing what was needed REALISM.
The muses, the ones that made you feel like a better person, the ones that were there during those testing times. The need to express. The need to be heard. Making sense of all the scribbling. Imagining the future. Friends that you drifted away from. Friends that kept in touch. The long aimless walks, the sweaty t-shirts. The joy of the mountains. Discovering strangers on strange journeys.
Cold nights. Colder mornings. That favourite pair of shorts that ripped after football practice. Jazz. Aldous Huxley. King Arthur. Thiruvalluvar. Carnatic Music. MMTS Train rides to the last stop and back.
The dreams of meaningful work, of insouciant travels, of excitement, of adulthood. Wordly worries. The fragility of life. The futility of stress. The attachment to materialistic things and cities. The time-space continuum and all of us mortals. Also change/transformation. Although gradual, maybe.
Thursday, July 07, 2011
After Hours
If I have in love with nature, it has usually been during sunrise. If I have ever fallen in love with cities, it is after 1 am.
When the world sleeps (Like that lovely song in Tezaab), thats when those who have nothing step out. I do have a roof over my head and love my sleep, but well since I'm on leave for couple of days, thought I would catch a late night movie. Not half bad, that Transformers movie, I think the Special Effects guys did a terrific job.
We were getting back in my car, the roommate was driving for a change and I was taking in the scenery. Gorgeous it looked, almost like a painting. The orange shafts of light, the roads that shimmered because of the light drizzle, the streams of rain drops that looked spray lines doing a waltz with the wind as one looked up at the lights, it just took my breath away.
I remember late nights in Hyderabad when we would drive back after a long night during our college fest days. Damn ! What I would give to have those days back in my life.
Bombay ! Man, was she different at night or what ! Almost the exact opposite of what she was during the day. No crowds, silence, people walking fearlessly and the notorious face of its underbelly that one could see without any qualms. The young SoBo crowd hung around the posh setups of Colaba, while the taxiwallahs were there to make their bread and butter. You could often find the heavily made up women putting up their wares for display at the Churchgate and CST stations. I was especially fascinated by the "mobile teashop on a cycle concept".I even remember striking up a conversation with Tamil tea wallah while returning from Marine Drive one night.
Pune, is quite different. It hasn't the sensational architecture, but it has a subtle old world charm to it. The Old Poona-Bombay highway which is my lifeline to the city is wide and a speed demon's paradise. I have done this stretch a million times and it is truly like driving in heaven on this road at night. The food joints are few and far in between, and you start finding such places are being in the city for a while. But you learn to live with its laidback attitude.
Its 2 in the morning, I am headed to another favourite of mine, Madras by the afternoon flight, so I'd better get some sleep. But I'm still looking outside my window in awe of how this tranquil moment has filled me with such content.
I'm buzzing with so many thoughts inside my head, but can't find anything concrete enough to document. The mind needs to rest. It is excited. I know it.
When the world sleeps (Like that lovely song in Tezaab), thats when those who have nothing step out. I do have a roof over my head and love my sleep, but well since I'm on leave for couple of days, thought I would catch a late night movie. Not half bad, that Transformers movie, I think the Special Effects guys did a terrific job.
We were getting back in my car, the roommate was driving for a change and I was taking in the scenery. Gorgeous it looked, almost like a painting. The orange shafts of light, the roads that shimmered because of the light drizzle, the streams of rain drops that looked spray lines doing a waltz with the wind as one looked up at the lights, it just took my breath away.
I remember late nights in Hyderabad when we would drive back after a long night during our college fest days. Damn ! What I would give to have those days back in my life.
Bombay ! Man, was she different at night or what ! Almost the exact opposite of what she was during the day. No crowds, silence, people walking fearlessly and the notorious face of its underbelly that one could see without any qualms. The young SoBo crowd hung around the posh setups of Colaba, while the taxiwallahs were there to make their bread and butter. You could often find the heavily made up women putting up their wares for display at the Churchgate and CST stations. I was especially fascinated by the "mobile teashop on a cycle concept".I even remember striking up a conversation with Tamil tea wallah while returning from Marine Drive one night.
Pune, is quite different. It hasn't the sensational architecture, but it has a subtle old world charm to it. The Old Poona-Bombay highway which is my lifeline to the city is wide and a speed demon's paradise. I have done this stretch a million times and it is truly like driving in heaven on this road at night. The food joints are few and far in between, and you start finding such places are being in the city for a while. But you learn to live with its laidback attitude.
Its 2 in the morning, I am headed to another favourite of mine, Madras by the afternoon flight, so I'd better get some sleep. But I'm still looking outside my window in awe of how this tranquil moment has filled me with such content.
I'm buzzing with so many thoughts inside my head, but can't find anything concrete enough to document. The mind needs to rest. It is excited. I know it.
Tuesday, July 05, 2011
Warped
I can blame work or my lack of sustaining an inspired moment for not blogging for almost 45 days. Even now, I can't think of something concrete to write. So I decided to spit out a string of random thoughts that are running through my head right this moment. Might be absolutely uninteresting. You are warned.
Shrewsbury biscuits
Running against the cool wind stroking my face
La Dolce Vita
Sliding tackles on the football ground
The promise of an imminent holiday
Kalyana sapudu at authentic tambram wedding in T.Nagar
A late night walk on the roads of Ameerpet
Hot coffee (made by me)
The lasagna at Polka Dots, Aundh
The Dilbert comic strip pinned up at my desk and about how Scott Adams reads my mind
The Zorb Ball
The Jabulani football
My next list of to-buy books
My next 1 TB hard disk for that matter
Memories of Xin Tian Di and Shanghai
So much to do and so less time. Tsk Tsk.
Now Playing : Roger Sanchez - Another Chance
Shrewsbury biscuits
Running against the cool wind stroking my face
La Dolce Vita
Sliding tackles on the football ground
The promise of an imminent holiday
Kalyana sapudu at authentic tambram wedding in T.Nagar
A late night walk on the roads of Ameerpet
Hot coffee (made by me)
The lasagna at Polka Dots, Aundh
The Dilbert comic strip pinned up at my desk and about how Scott Adams reads my mind
The Zorb Ball
The Jabulani football
My next list of to-buy books
My next 1 TB hard disk for that matter
Memories of Xin Tian Di and Shanghai
So much to do and so less time. Tsk Tsk.
Now Playing : Roger Sanchez - Another Chance
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