Welcome

Fireworks.
Whiskey blues.
Celebrations.
Resolutions.
Hope.

Another idiotic year is on the way :D

The terror that will not die.

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well. Things are NOT going to stop. Its because terrorists are being made, every day, every now and then. At some part of the world.

We motivate them terrorists. We give them air to brethe. Babri Masjid. Gujarat Riots. Israel. Lot other stuff.

The rich people who buy mutilated religious lines sponsor this thing called terrorism. Even if, for the time being, we kill 90% of the terrorists by invading into Pakistan, the next generation will be motivated by this very same invasion , and some idiots may cry - "Denial of human rights"

Alarming, but true. This CANNOT be stopped in this century, atlest. But what can be done is, to tighten up the security so that less people die.

One billion Indians. hundreds may die in one attack. We bother.
We light up candles, hold TV discussions, brag, point fingers, and what not.

Hundreds die because of bad roads, due to corruption. Hundreds die of malnutrition. Hundreds die in riots. Hundreds die because of negligence. Hundreds die in stampedes at holy places.

Every day, in India.

Just that we DO NOT notice.

We have to live on. Ignore the terror. Lets not get terrorised.

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Resolutions.

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That one thing you love to break.
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The Lie

The lie was all about one piece of tissue.

2008

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too much of weird stuff happened.
Started with a bang, ended with a bang.

All what remains is a planetary nebula.



(for people who dont know what a planetary nebula is, - well, search!!)
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That old proverb

you win some. you lose some.

The war that people LOVE.

Yes. I thought I will hold myself from writing something on terror. But this sudden urge to write came in when i was taking the shower (yes, i do, twice a day, unlike you) and as a matter of fact, is not even dressed when i write this. 

It was the discussion boards. The discussion boards on rediff, and elsewhere in the web. Majority wants a war. Wipe out pakistan. Not repeat the mistake of 71. 

Hmm. Even I wanted. I wanted it  one month before. I guess it was all adrenalin rush though. Its still rushing in many people, mine came down a couple of days before. 

I have been following war situations for about a year now. I never liked history, but here I was, searching, browsing and reading everything about war. I even made it a point to see war movies - Not the American ones (which shows America in war), which i believe is biased, and hyped. 

Now, If India went into war with pakistan. 

1) What are the possible objectives - target ?

    a) conquer Pakistan

    b) Destroy terrorist camps

    c) Claim back  Pok

and then??

Thats the big question. America went into afghan, bombed, conquered. Went into iraq. Bombed. Conquered. And then??

There are more insurgents in both countries than pre american strikes !!! The attack failed. Now I will be a fool to believe that India have better economy and Army than the US. No, we have to admit, we do not have. All we have is strength in numbers, not in sophistication and coordination.

I remember the kargil conflict. It was NOT a war with pakistan. It was just clearing out infiltrators(The pakistan Army of course). The objective was to get back the land, and was limited to our side of LOC.  There was not much state of emergency in the country(Compared to older war situations). I remember shrugging my shouders when the conflict broke up. I was NOT interested. I was wondering if they need that land so desperately, why not India give it up and stop the killing. Needless to say, I did not know history. I never knew so many (millions, YES, MILLIONS) of people were killed in riots and military operations in India, Bangladesh and Pakistan post partition. Even my father was a two year old then.

500 something Indian soldiers died in Kargil. Something which could have been prevented.  No Indian city was attacked. There was no civilian casualty. Because the war was in Kargil. 

Its not going to be like that this time. At this time of economic turmoil, if a war broke up, the nation will be at a stand still. Inflation will go up. Petrol and diesel prices will shoot up. Rice will be too expensive. I am NOT at a hype. 

Remember how vegetable prices shoot up when the truck workers went to strike for a couple of days? 

Remember there was NO petrol for a couple of days?  

Remember the complains of different sectors of people when the Petrol price was hiked 5 rupee?

Remember the complains of different sectors of people when the Petrol price came down 5 rupee?(saying they should reduce more?)

Remember the IT sector coming down when US recession started?

Remember the stock exchange crash?

And a countless other stuff?

What if all came together? How are we going to face it? We will blame the Govt for going on war !! Thats all we do. Blame the govt for anything and everything. After all, its us, who put the govt there. Its us, who support corruption. Its us, who will give and accept bribe. And its us, who complain about corruption. 

We can sit here at our home asking the govt. to go on war. What we have to understand is, war is NOT something that happens in some remote area of North India, and that nothing will happen to us when a war breaks out. We, especially the south Indians (including me) have seen nothing, have NOT seen the terrible side of terrorism much, thats one reason why the feeling of security comes in. This feeling is given to us, by the soldiers who die every month, still. War will bring the killings to the civilians, and more civilians are going to die, when a war breaks out. Any takers? What about the possible riots post war?

So, if not war, what is the solution for this?

As long as we give a chance to them to get motivated (Gujarat riots, American attacks, Babri masjid), they will remain motivated. But the terrorists are a very small minority. All we need to do is to tighten up the security measures. The US was not attacked afte 9/11 NOT because they attacked Afghanistan. Its because they spent, and acted on the security measures. They have least corruption, at least not when it comes to national security.

Its obvious, if the Coast guard was on alert, This could have been avoided altogether. ALTOGETHER. The knowledge of the smuggling route helped them. Why was there a smuggling route ?? 

You dont need a war to handle terrorists. All you need is to clean up the inside, and remove pot belly policemen and from the force. Forget the politicians. 

Well, we know its easier to go on WAR. 

 

Moral people

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Morally correct people normally never keep the lines of morality they dictate to others.

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Perfect People

Yes, the world seems to be filled with perfect people. 

And they try to reinforce their state of being perfect, when i am on the wrong side. Of doing something unethical. 

Friends, they call themselves. And I am given advices for my betterment. 

huh. 

I cant point my finger to any one, for I might have been doing the same thing. I am confused. "judge not, lest ye be judged"

I might get the gallows, if somebody else judge me, but then again, its their problem, not mine. I do not seem to care, at least for the moment, to let out the frustration againt some people who have really irritated me.

For the hypocrisy. 

And all the while, calling me a hypocrite. 

ha ha. they might be right, but again, their problem. 

==>I remember someone (male of the species) advising me againt watching movies, which might have a sexual content.

==>I remember someone (of course male of the species) advising me against taking two of my female friends for lunch. 

==>I remember someone advising me against drinking, and then asking me questions of his interest when he thought I was drunk

==>I remember someone asking me not to attend some party for 'moral' reasons, and then I came to know that person was very much active in that party. 

The list goes on and on. These are nothing big, nothing which  has to be kept in mind or to be felt bad about. But these are the little small things that spoils your day. 

I am getting back to the old rebellion. I am getting back to what I was. From the depths of depression due to philosophies related to astronomy, from the depths of voids, from numerous broken relationships for which i might be the only person to be blamed for, I am waking up. Its been long 10 years. But its better late than never. 

The colour blue is getting estranged. So is the already estranged colour red. 

The fire is being lit up again. I just realised the best of me. I am best when I am alone, with no ties or knots over me.  I have gone enough through the concepts of friendship and love, and realised i am terribly dislocated. The realisation that i am a misfit in those worlds was always there, but i reassured myself these days. Or, something helped me reassure myself.

 

I am happy not being one of the perfect people. Those morally perfect people. 

May be, thats my problem. 

...

If it were in India, they would ask reporters to enter the conference hall without shoes, from then on. 

(yes, i am talking about that stupid bush and shoes at him. )

Annoying Technologies.

Yes, it was netravathi express, as usual.

And as usual, I had to fight for my seat - with a punjabi family this time.
That was fine, its a daily routine. I only wished the other daily routine didnt start. Well, wishes are always wishes.

It was a stupid punjabi song, full volume. No mercy ! Yes, I am talking about people playing music loud in trains. I always go and ask people to use a headphone or to lower the volume. But this time, i just had a fight with the family over the seat (that very much belong to me), so I decided to keep quiet.

Somebody else thought otherwise.

There was this man, probably at his early sixties. He featured his shiny forehead, with little or no hair on the front half of the head. The other part did feature thin lines of hair, white, black and brown, manifesting old attempts to paint the hair black. The upper side of the face was flat, while the lower side resembled the white make up of Kathakali artists, the colour being brown. The dress resembled that of a retd. Govt employee, of the 1990s. The posture was similar as well.

Yes. Then it happened. He took out his pen. Removed its top.

And from the pocket came one of the modern(i guess) slide phones, with a touch screen. With the ease of ticking on a survey sheet, he touched his way to his music. Ayyapa songs. One unit volume higher than that of the punjabi stuff.

The fact that me, the techie, still do not know how to dial a number on one of those hi fi phones becomes irrelevant. I did not feel bad because i still live in pre historic ages when it comes to tech gadgets. I felt bad because other people also joined in for the competitions.

I vaccated the seat i fought hard for. Went to the door, stood on the foot board, watching the scenery pass by. I didnt have to pay this much to stand on a food board. I could have very much opted for the general compartments rather than in an air conditioned one.

I have been using a mobile phone for about ten years now. Never did the concept of mobile phones annoyed me this much. Forget the guy sitting next to me who would shout out figures in lakhs. Who would shout his entire family history to the fellow passengers. Who would shout at the subordinated over the phone. Its shouting alright. I hoped it was in private.

Mobile phones do annoy me. The facilities it give is not worth the headache it gives. A technology which was supposed to simplify our lives, is just complicating it.

That thin feeling again.

Where am I now?

Dislocated from my favourite place, knowingly or unknowingly. I wont say I am lost. As they say, you cannot be lost if you got no where to go. I dont know who said it, but I like the statement. Not that I always wanted to go somewhere when you put it in the "Life" perspective. I was ambition less. I was dream less. I was someone who was never driven by dreams, but by pure instinct.

Yes, where am I now?

Why should I feel bad anyway? The rain may fall, the sun may shine. It happens all over the world. For everyone who live this world. as living beings. Should I be happy that I am still there? Or should I fret that people my age has reached fancy places, or have achieved heights of "success"? Well thats their problem.

I am alive, in one piece.
I can afford to eat.
I can afford good clothes.
I dont necessarily, have to support my parents
I can afford to drink
I can afford to travel once in a while
I can afford to maintain a car
I can afford air conditioned coaches
I can afford air travel once in a while
I can afford front row at rock concerts
I can afford to eat at fancy places
I can afford to live without a boss at work.
I can take a vaccasion whenever i want.
I have someone to call when i feel bad.
and a whole lot of things.

I remember the thin, young , 17ish looking boy at the bar yeasterday. He claimed to be 19. He came from wayanad, all the way to cochin. He works hard all day at the bar. He is hardly paid. He has to earn all the money from the 'tip' we people give. He has to listen to all the abuse the drunk guys shove upon him. He got a family of four to support, back at his home. He got an ailing father who cannot work.

And I am worried that i am no where. Watch the well of guys of my age and lesser, with green eyes.

I used to think I was great. I just realised how small i became in front of this 19 year attendant at the bar, who does a whole lot of things that I can ever do.

I was soaked in 480 ml of old cask rum just10 hours before. Guess i need more of them now.

Of men and women.

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The differences are not just with the body. And these indifference's have been the reason for the battle of the "sexes", right from the time when man and women evolved. No one knows, why the female of the species are built physically weaker than the man. people believe, that's one good reason why the ladies believe they are weaker. The reason why they feel they have to be liberated. The reason why they fight (try hard) to improvise something called gender equality.

I don't think so. period.

Its all about the vagina. It is. From what i learn, with 28 years of experience on earth, the female genital is nothing but a piece of tissue, with a hole connecting directly to the womb, the passageway of semen into the ovary, to conceive. to reproduce. Oh yes, there is something called the clitoris, which is supposed to be the point of pleasure.

This narrow passageway, and the area surrounding it, or colloquially, the 'hole', is a hot topic of discussion among men of almost all age groups. It is normally invisible to men because of the multitude of layers of fabric that covers it. Right from pre teen ages, the curiosity of boys, as to "what is inside" goes on the rise. What I cannot understand though, is the curiosity of some of the old age men, who have been having sex for more than half of their life time.

The more the curiosity, the more is the need to protect it. Girls are advised to keep their hole intact till marriage. The failure, of which results in catastrophe as big as the super nova explosion. It should not be seen, or touched by men. But its fine if its a women!!!

No wonder, why  men invented the rape. The art form was there from times since mankind invented chastity, since they invented marriage. 

And yes, they are void of freedom. 

They are afraid, to lose the sanctity of the hole.  They have to be under protection of men, since they are physically weak. I don't believe if women  feel suppressed, for any other reason. 

Its all about the hole.

And again, why is it that women have to be liberated from men??

Its not men who caged the women, they are chained by the stupid concepts of chastity. 

Imagine, what can happen, if all women lost their virginity pre - marriage?? 

That all men would remain bachelors??

That men would never fall in love?  

Men would be forced to!!

Women are prisoners of their own hole, of their own body.  The vagina is a hot piece of tissue - not because of its beauty, but because of the unavailability. 

Gold is expensive because its rare. There was a time when aluminium was expensive than gold, because there was no known way to extract it economically. People would fight  and kill for aluminium.

Yes, people kill and rape for the female sex organ. Its high time the hype surrounding it be removed.  I believe the face of a beautiful lady is far, far beautiful than her genital.  I am not experienced enough to measure the beauty of the mind, for i do not have a good measuring instrument. 

There is nothing like gender equality. You cannot compare the penis with a vagina. None is superior either. 

Ladies, stop crying for equality. Liberate yourself. You don't need a million people rally for that. 

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(Yes, the image accompanying has been copied from the Internet. Shamelessly.)

Heart shaped Jigsaw

No.

That piece of jigsaw doesnt belong to my box.

But I am cutting the edges of my pieces to accommodate it.

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Yes. I am cutting my pieces. 

Sunset Blues

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I am trying hard to write humour. 

Only to realise that one should not be trying hard to write humour. 

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:D

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I am trying hard to be better.

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Good thing, I atleast know i have to try hard.

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that thin piece of paper.

I still dont know why I titled this post that way. I dont think I will ever know anyway.

Some thing prompts me into writing. Every time I open my blog to see if there is any activity, a new comment, or whatsoever, I see the same old last post. I need a change. I need to post something. 

And that is where the problem "lies".

Gone are those days, when I would write, because what ever thought that came to me, was amusing to me. Never did I care if that was amusing to others, because how can their amusement amuse me??

Things have changed.(not for good, either)

More and more people I know have started blogging, and are doing good, gathering attention, and the feeling of the requirement to keep up with their standards are on the rise. The reason why I write has changed, and the thoughts that used to come has changed. The need to keep stupid posts away, has come, or in simple terms, I am worried of the comments and the way the readers take it. 

I always had a big EGO, I still have it, and i dont believe it will leave me in the near future. I dont want my posts to be lesser than any a****le friend of mine. Plainly speaking.

Not that I have a huge set of fans dying to read my blogs. I believe the regular readers are less than four, and but there are scores of other people accidently coming to my blog, thanks to google, and my post - the Chastity belt. Because of that post, and keywords that are sexual in content, google brings in my link to people who search on "how to make a chastity belt." or related topics. 

I have started to speak to myself. 

You dont have to be like this. There is no point trying to impress people with your writing. Go back to the basics. Write for yourself. Dont even publish it.

sigh. When will I change?

On the brighter side

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One good thing about drinking is that you can quit again and again.

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GOD - 2

Rules of the believer:

Every good things that come to you is the grace of GOD

Every Bad things are from the Devil.

God must be indebted to devil.

Without him, he would lose all followers.

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...

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you wil always be a prisoner of your lies.

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The veil.

Fear of losing, of embarassment, of guilt. Low in confidence, and fear of showing up ones own face. The fear of rejection, and dislike of being what one is.

Wear the veil. Cover up your face.
remain Anonymous.

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(This post has nothing to do with my attitude. It was fired at one of the anonymous comments i received early on.)
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Soulmate -IV

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Pitch black skies of a single shade
Sinking into my fading eyes

Cold streams of thin breeze
Flirting with my careless ears

Warm drips of shy ethanol
soothing down my cold throat

Sharp frames of abstract vision
giving way to blurred ones

Sliding myself to the eternal serenity
I always used to love

Shredding them all
for something I never liked

Dragging myself hard through
Winds of unused emotions

Fours years of unsung feelings
Put into chords of unknown pitch

I'm singing a song I never wanted
But Its giving me something I never had
.
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(dated 23 September 2008. turning point, i guess.)

Tears

Tears.

Simple arrangement of molecules of water, salt and co. Produced and secreted by some stupid gland. Commanded by another stupid part of the brain. Mostly used as a good weapon against men.

Emotions might have played a huge role right from the times when men started to evolve. Many men are stupid enough to fall for the tears of an un assuming, innocent- and what not - lady. I say stupid because, all the while when they(the women of the species) are coming into terms with what ever made them cry, men run and try hard to stop them tears.

Tears are supposed to be rolled, and when they do, it has to be a good sign. So next time you see an "innocent (aargh)" girl with her eyes wet, just feel happy and do nothing - all the while she is coming into terms with what has happened to her, why do you have to create a new problem inside your brain for no reason??!!

I am expecting a couple of feminist - birdbrain comments on this one - yes, men do cry, I admit, but not when someone dies in a soap opera!!

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The ugly side.

The human body. A real wonder. The complex neurons and the chemicals run from the brain to the multitudes of nerve endings, giving signals to actuate smallest of the muscles, impart the feelings of pleasure, pain and emotions.  Every single cell has a job to do.

The clothes, and the skin covers the whole process. The pieces of jewels that adorn the bright modern clothing. They gives the shining and the aura to the body. 

There is always the naked body that we love to look at.  There has to be a wonderful body hidden between the lustful diamonds, we believe. We fantasize in mind the beauty of the nude. 

Only to be disappointed by the ugly side. 

Every naked body has an ugly side.

I too have a body. sigh.

The runner.

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He has been running too fast with eyes closed.
He believed he was winning.

Then he opened his eyes.
To retire or not, is the question
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Why ???

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I always wonder why people kill people.

Now I know why
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Not again.

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The reason to reason my reason doesnt sound reasonable.
And there is no reason why my reasons are not reasonable.

(and I am not even drunk!!!)
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...

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i am getting sick. 

hee hee.

(obvious signs, isnt it?)

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lol

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grrrrr.... I need my hair back.  I need my hair back.

I need my hair back.

?????

The Healer

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Time heal all wounds.

It also brings in new ones

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Cant title this one.

Mangala express is normally late. A three hour delay is never unusual.

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I am cutting down the story, I am in the train now.

As usual, I roam about through the compartment, look at interesting people and wonder why they are better than me in many ways. I carry a lot of books with me, (helps me into sleep). And when I am tired of sleeping, I would stand at the foot board, stare at the green fields, calculate the instantaneous speed and average speed of the train with the stop watch in my mobile phone and the meter – markings on sides of the rail. Then I Wonder why people have to throw litter outside even when they have started to keep bins inside, Wonder why train is still slow, And dream of inventing a time machine – sort of thing which will get me from Calicut to cochin at the fraction of a second.

It was no different today, after a short nap ( this was fast – just two pages of “Pattern recognition” and I was out), I walked down to the door, stood on the footstep, took a breath of fresh air. Refreshing. I wish It would rain.

It was then a sight of a kid, may be nine or ten years of age, caught my attnetion. He stood near the train, watching the train pass by. The train was slowing down. A small station was near, may be this train stops here for a crossing.

The kid seems to be crying. Or, is he? May be he is. He is helplessly looking at the train. The train is not yet stopped. It seemed like he want the train to stop. He was not crying out loud either.

Did the train hit someone?

I looked at the front. I could see the platform at some distance. I saw two men sitting at the platform, and nothing from their gestures suggested the train would have hit someone. If the train hit someone, they would at least be staring at the train.

And then, the train stopped. At a very ackward position. Not at the platform, not for a crossing. I know. I know because I have been travelling just too much in train. In kerala.

I knew Someone was hit.

For sometime, I could not see any movement around the train. I was confused. I looked back at either sides of the train, and I could see no activity. Just the kid.

And then, the frenzy. People running . Yes, someone is on the rail, and precisely, below my compartment. If that someone is still on the rail, beneath the train, there is no coming back to life.

Speculations, and comments on who is dead, why, was it a suicide, or an accident, and so on and so forth was asked. It looked a pure accident to me, but now, about half an hour later later when the train resumed its journey, and as I type this, I am not quite sure.

People rushed, and many were seen taking the photographs in different angles possible. I didnt want to get down the train. I just did not want to see. I must be weak hearted. In fact, I am, i guess. I dont mind seeing blood. But, no, I dont want to see it. I dont want another image of death waking me up in the middle of a night , precisely when I want a good sleep.

The body of the mother was taken out. It was said the body was torn into pieces. I saw the body covered with white cloath. I saw death.

I saw the relatives coming down and bursting to tears. I saw emotions pouring out. I saw fellow passengers in disbelief. I saw passengers sympathising. I saw them commenting about accidents. I saw people calling the dear ones and letting them know about the accident. (I did that too.) I knew my heart beat going up. I felt blood rushing up to my face. I felt heavy. I felt helpless.

Everyone has to die. At some point in life.

I thought of the very few people I consider important In my life. I knew, I have to see them die. I have to face it when they die. Unless I am lucky enough to die before they do.

I have to see them die. At some point, in the next thiry years to come. (I have no idea as to how long I will live, but not more than thirty years, i guess) and I have to get out of the trauma of seeing at least some of them die.

I wish they were not Important to me.

I wish no one were important to me.

The Hermit. I am jealous of him.

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A better option.

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Somebody hates a better option.

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...

Your baggage sir...!!

Yes, I do hate this.

There is this skinny little girl, little in terms of height, probably in her middle twenties. She does security check, in front of one of Bengaluru's busiest shopping malls, The Forum. There is nothing wrong with the girl, and its not the girl that I am frustrated with. In fact, I would not mind to take that girl for a date, if permitted by (my-most-obvious)

Its not that I have a fascination for shopping malls. No I do not, and in fact I hate to be there. I prefer to stay away from the crowd, and all kinds of crowd (Unless its in a nudist resort) irritates me. All I need is to kill time, and I always prefer to browse at Reliance Webworld, as I am simply comfortable with this place. And they had one in Forum.

My inherent dislike to any security check comes from the fact that My bag always have atleast 5 pairs of wires of different types (Includes USB cables, serial cables, RJ45 connectors), Integrated circuit boards, Batteries, screw drivers, Nose pliers, Knives and at least ONE sharp edged device. Last time the Bangalore blast hapenned, I was roaming around in Blore with the aforementioned tools plus a couple of circuit boards with displays that resembled the displays of the time bombs that you see in the movies.

This time, its no better, as I was coming in aftershopping at the SP road, with a whole load of tools and electronic stuff. I ripped open the bag, and prepared my mind for all kinds of questions she would ask. I imagined being taken to the interrogation room, and things like that.

She looked into the bag, saw a mess of wires, saw the displays, and looked in to my face.

"Thank you sir, you can go now"

No wonder, the blasts continue.

Flying Away

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Warming up those wings
(for I have not used them for long)
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Raring to fly away
(for I forgot - that I am a bird - for some time)
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Gazing at the sky
(When was the last time?)

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and then; back to the basics called freedom.
the thought of freedom used to make me feel better.
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Never been this confused in my entire life.
Surprise, I still dont want to give up.
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I will fall off this tight rope.
I wish I knew which side.

end.

Wed-lock.

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Very thoughtful of the man who made this word.
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A lock, it is.(worst part is that you dont have the key)
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Soulmate 3 (aka alcohol)

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Four years of unsigned emotions

Dissolved into the lake of lust
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Seven years of solitary nights

gave way to candle lit nights
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Sixteen shots of stray thoughts

Lighted up with shades of love
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Trance-lit nights with my dear Soulmate

Ending up in a full moon night

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Dark Shades of white

Why, is it that we do not have a choice?


(But then, this is not the first time I am writing typing crap.)

sigh. again.

Disbelief. (Of the highest order)

As a kid, he loved to stare at the skies. The shining, twinkling multitude of holes in the night sky and the cold soothing breeze that accompanies the midnight times were something special. Nothing would amuse him more than the moving moon, and the occasional sparks in the night sky. Someone has told him moon is huge in size, and that it will take a lot of time to reach there, and for that he need to get into something called a rocket.

He hated sun. Why is that it has to be hot in the noon. The sweat. That could be one reason why he loved the rain, and would run into it at every possible chance. He loved to cuddle into a blanket and watch the rain fall down, along the edges of the roofing, at the evening, and see the sun giving up the day to the night.

Cats did amuse him. He loved the way it walked, the way it slept, and the way it looked. Every prospect of a cat was amusing. So much was in the nature, for him to be amused of and to be thought of.

He used to pray to God, for each and every needs. When he wanted a toy, he would pray, and sometimes God would give his father a toy and then his father would give it to him. Since God gave the sweets and the toys he wanted, he always made sure that he prays to God everyday. His life was very happy as a ten year old, and he used to get good marks at school. God helped.

Everything was done as asked, and no questions were asked. But still, there was nature in front of him, and some questions remained unanswered. And there was something called death. People die and good people go to heaven, and bad people go to hell. So he need to be good, or he will be tortured in hell. He never understood why there were bad people, and he never understood why people would want to go to hell.

And then it happened. He decided to be an athiest.
More precisely, the disbelief in God.

May be, it had something to do with marks. When, suddenly, there seemed to be a gradual decrease in the marks scored at school, the world seemed to be a different place. Humiliation at school, and worse, at home, was of the highest order. There seemed to be no time to stare at the skies and to wonder. There seemed to be no time to watch the rain fall. Sun seemed to be hotter than ever before. God and family seemed to be estranged.

He would go the the lab at school and watch the human skeleton for hours. Science and nature would engross him, and he would make gadgets out of everything possible. Every piece of money stolen from home would go to resistors and chemicals, and a small lab would be set up at his small room. He was a bit sad that no questions about what he knew were asked at the exams. Slowly, God and family went out of the equation, as both of them seemed to love marks, and he didnt have any with him.

***** END OF PART 1*****

...

|

i have started loving a .

|

...

.
If you are not confident
The past was probably easy for you
.

Hater

.
I was never a good lover
But i do make a good hater.
.

Strange.

Being one

.
from we are
to we is
.

The Longest and the shortest day

Anxious.
The man in black.
The stare.
The search.
The old man.
The journey.
The feet and the door.

Pieces of ice did melt into each other.
Bewildered.

The longest and the shortest day
happened to be on the same day.

And I did the unexpected.
I knew the unexpected.
I didn't have to look in a thesaurus.

I am no longer what i used to be.
Neither do I have a regret.

End.

The dance

.

He woke up to the mild heat creeping up to his face. The eyelids seemed to be too heavy to open up. Reddish yellow films of light peeked into his dry and dizzy eyes as he tried to make out where he was. As the deeply blurred images sharpened to form recognizable ones, his worst nightmare came true. He has been captured. For the feast.


He tried running away, but could not feel his legs or hands. They were too numb and tied up. He has lost his clothes, and stood naked, held up by a rotten piece of wood. His chest supported the chin, which was dripping blood.

The ring of fire around seem to be fast approaching. It has been long since sunset. Vague shadows resembling men seem to dance wild behind the fire. Well. They are men.

snap.

really. snap.


I need to brush my teeth now.

.

## HOW ##

.

How do i prove that i do not know something?

.

And that i do not remember something?

.

Edit in the Brain - III

.

Ctrl + Z

.

Edit in the Brain - II

.

An absolute U turn.

Now I need to fix up a career.

.
hmmm.
I might be teased for this for ever.

.

Edit in the brain - I

_
Recent Edit in the Brain:

Interests:
Dirving at high speed Driving at a very slow pace.

.

I will never understand WHY

.

~ They always honk best when the red light is on ~
~ Some wear tight jeans when they work out at gym ~
~ They always wait the road to get repaired to dig it up again ~
~ They have to talk this loud on the mobile phone ~
~ Mr shanker is still on the coconut tree ~ (Courtsey this nutcase)
~ I shaved my head ~ (A week after I bought a hair dryer, expensive shampoo, hair conditioner, hair oil, Combs of different shapes, Head Band (Not Hair band, idiota!), Hair gel etc.)
~ I am writing this ~
.

Empty white space.

• Staring doesnt Help.
• I have to think if I have to write.

The ICE problem - II

(Click on PIC to enlarge)

The ICE problem - I

That statement that made me think

.
A.B.A.P to A.S.A.P.

(As big as possible to as small as possible)
.

A.F.A.P.

.
I need my hair back.
AFAP*.

(*As fast as possible)
.

Hmmm

.
The long and winding road.
Hmm...
.

...

.
Helping others doesnt help.
I have started stopping it.
.

Once in a while deperation.

.
.
I desperately need the power to forget.
.
.

Talking to the mirror

"All the things you do
Come back to you"

All the bad things you do
Come back to you

Some of the good things,
might.
.
.
(if you are lucky)

That red coloured feeling I used to hate.

.
I threw it down the alley
When i thought it was useless

I threw it down hard
that it broke into pieces

I threw it down hard
A long long time ago

I threw it away fast
My hands were all full

Now that my hands are all empty
I need a full heart

I am looking back down
Now time has flown away

I am creeping down the alley
to get them broken pieces

I got no piece
The alley has been cleaned

Now I need it bad
But i have thrown it all away
.

Getting them answers.

.

Yes, I am getting old.
Do i need a makeover?

Yes, the days are getting short.
Do I need a change of work?

Yes, the knots are getting broken
Do I need an relation - guru?

Yes, my belly is getting bigger
Do i need a work out regime?

Yes, my tongue loves to shell a lie
Do i need a moral instructor?

Yes, the alcohol is still my soulmate
Do i need a rehab?

Yes, my vision is filled with pessimism
Do i have to be an optimist?

Yes I have a bad bank statement
Do i need a consultant?

The woman who had a makeover.
The friend who changed the job.
A man whos been to the doctor.
The man who has a six pack.
The vicar at the church.
The perfect teetotaler.
The optimist man.
The man with a 7 figure account.

I met them all.

And my questions remained
answered.

Non - drunken musings - II

.
The happiness of not sharing
and enjoying it

is better than the happiness
in sharing
.

Drunken musings - II

Non - drunken musings - I

.
Feels like quitting on my blog again.
.
.
At least until i restart again
.
.
At least until i feel sane again
.
.
At least until i log in again
.
.
At least till i wish again
.


.
At least till i know what i am writing
.

The other side

.

The summer rain gives occasional surprises for sure. It was another cold evening, and unlike the usual routine, i was sharing a table with three of my colleagues. The roof top restaurant/bar was fine, but lacked good service. But it gave a clean, nice view of the national highway down, which i cross at least six to seven times a day. My thoughts dissolved into the work to be completed, and the food and the beverages that are yet to come.

There was this loud, sudden thud, minus the screech of tyres that accompany it, probably due to the rain and the wet road. The highway below was notorious for its accidents and hit and run incidents. As I jumped into the view, I was expecting to see another car, bashed into the bottom of another car, which was business as usual.

But there was this man, in his late twenties, hit, thrown into the road. I hoped to see a bit of life, a cry, at least a bit of movement of his limbs, but all i could see was the motionless body. The windshield was crushed, the face sunk in blood. I saw the driver coming out, people rushing in, and the body being rushed to the hospital, in the same car.

I dont know if he is alive, but if he is not, I just saw a life being taken away. Death comes in at the most unexpected time, may be, thats one good thing about it (for the person who dies)

What I saw did make me restless. Not that I am seeing an accident for the first time. In fact, I have thrown a bike rider into air with my car. I have seen blood, have seen live accidents a lot. Have seen people suffering, at my visit to the Medical college.

But, this one was different. It was not the fact that "this person could be dead" that affected me. Its just that, I , could be in his shoes, of the victim, as well as the car drivers. it could have been me crossing the highway. It could have been me driving the car. It could be me, who spends the rest of my life paralyzed.

Its just the understanding, that the other side of life could be death. Though I always wanted the other side, I know things could be different on the other side.

Yes, the grass seems to be greener only from the other side. And mirages do recur in my vision.

But why is it that I know it, and still..

Its better on the other side?

Shadows

.
Sometimes, its your own shadow that scares you the most.
.

The rush

.
To be someone
To be something.

But time scuttle faster
To take you where you belong
.

Dumpos are for ever.

I remember the anxious eyes
and the confused gesture

"Did you get my letter?"

I remember the innocent eyes
Which leaked at every possible cause

"When will you stop it?"

I remember the fun filled evenings
And the nature trecks

"How long will it last?"

I remember the hard fights
Over the expected phone calls

I remember the make ups
and the knot tied and untied

"How long is it to the next fight?"

I remember the usual humm
When you are out of money to call

"I am still a student"

And I remember the usual hmmmmm
When you have the job

"I spent it all"

And I still remember the 3 month thing
Which you are so good at

"May be its a year after my marriage"
Grrrrr

And I normally forget the good times
and the times when we talked

which was just enough to keep it going
all these ten years of knowing

And it was not me, who kept it going
I owe it all to you.



(Now this post doesn't have anything to do with love, or marriage or friendship - just in case if it sounds like it. )

28

.

Jim Morrison
Kurt Kobain
Janis Joplin
Jimi Hendrix
Brian Jones

I wish I were one of them.

But then, I am 28 today.

(For those who dont know, they all died at the age of 27.)

.

The Past

.
.
Past flies close to oblivion.
When I need it the most.
.
.

Feeling like.

The ability to feel like/feeling like something must be the most fascinating feeling in life.

Cant make out if I made any sense. (not that I makes sense out of my 'thoughtful,' alcohol induced(not always, though) statements)

I desperately need some feelings.

The feeling of chilled wind caressing my face, leaking through my hair to the other side, cooling down an agitated and frustrated stream of thoughts, hidden deep inside my mind.

The feeling that calms me down, when i drive slowly in the middle of the night, along the highway, riding up the western ghats, while it rains heavily outside.

The feeling of excitement, long lost.
The feeling of aggression.


The body discarded by its soul, flown presumably, to heaven or hell or wherever.
The body with a failed set of sensors and lost emotions.

Hard to spot a difference.
I prefer to be the first one.

. End of a feeling .

The Spoiler

.

Is it okay if I throw you a surprise party??

.

The rules

.
The world has no rules.

What you have is what you get.
And what you get is what you have.
.

Calling it a day

_

Sometimes,
Calling it a day is a good option.

_

Drunken Musings - 1

'
I do miss a holding hand
Even though I prefer to live without it.

'

Dreams

.
..

I still do not believe in dreams.

I do not believe in things in which
favourite ones are the
hardest to occur.

..
.

Fly

..

The ostrich
might not wish to fly

The elephant
might not wish to rule the jungle

The Lion
might not wish for a palace

The mountains
might not wish to conquer the skies

I Aint them.
therefore I wish.

I aint the good
therefore I can.

I aint bounded
therefore I fly


I aint sane
Therefore I think.

..

(No i am not drunk, but even now i cant make out what i really meant when I wrote this post!! I started writing something on dreams, after the post on dumpos site. And here I am. )

Promises

I am used to it. Promises that never was kept. Not that I planned to break them. While they are made, i find no reason why they cannot be kept. An then, when time comes, everything would go haywire.

I should be re thinking. Since I fail to keep 8 out of 10 promises on a regular basis, I believe I shall be having a re think. May be, I shall not make a promise.

And a new resolution is born.

Only to be broken.

The calm

.
.
Before the storm???
.
.

Mistakes -I

.
..
Mistakes once done
cannot be undone

I don't prefer it
undone.
..
.

Even if

.
..
Even if everyone else estrange you
Loneliness wont.
..
.

The most expensive

The tavern remained dim lit, as usual. Thin white misty smoke seem to stem from nowhere. The sky was pitch black, save for the inviting gleaming stars. The day was special, they sell exquisite drinks today. And this was the day, when customers can barter drinks.

Assorted liquors of various colors adorned the counter. They were replaced by the ones brought by the buyers. The most favorite one was the "l'amour" , the drink of love. Girls and boys of all orders of sizes, shapes and color flocked around the carton of "l'amour", grabbing as much as they could. Some preferred to pay in cash, while some preferred to exchange bottles of "Compromiso." Older people seem to sell their "Desolation" but found few takers for it. They left them near the counter, for anyone to take it for free.

Close to midnight, the buyers are happy, and the bartender seems to the happy as well. But the most expensive drink was never bought, it remained on top of the stack, sporting its majestic look. It was then, he walked in, clad in his usual T shirt, scruffy as ever. The eyes had tints of red and orange, and drooped on to either side. The hair remained unkempt as well, occasionally obscuring the dead fish eyes. With a huge knapsack on his shoulders, he moved slowly to the counter, and with great difficulty, he unloaded his sack on to the counter.

"What do you have"
asked the bartender

"l'amour". Lots of them.
He replied, in his blunt, voice

"But everyone prefers to keep it"

"People makes mistakes"

"So what do you need"

He raised his head, searched the counter with his eyes, wide by now. The eyes got stuck at the top of the stack, stared at the beauty of his find.

The bartender was surprised.
"Thats the most expensive."

"But I will take it"

"I warn you, its dangerous. No one takes it"

"You name the price"

"That will cost you all you have with you"

"Take all I have"

"And you will also need to take these along with it. these comes free with it"
And the bartender pointed at the bottles of "Desolation" left over by the older people.

"Load them"

And he vanished.

Two girls were enjoying their share of "l'amour".

"People can be foolish"
said one

"I dont know why he always prefer that useless drink"

"Who cares? Its his life, not ours"
"Anyway, he is a snob"
"He is also a hypocrite"
"Of course he lies"
"And he believes he has a good deal"
"He is foolish"
"And what not!! that drink, is sure vile"

And outside the tavern, it started raining. Paying the highest disregard to the rain, he walked on, holding to his heart his bottle of "Freedom."

He believes he chose right.

Fools Day

.
..
Fools day is now twice a year
The other day is April 1
..
.

Being Good

.
..
Being Good attracts responsibility.

(Why take the responsibility?)
..
.

The Curse - I

.
..
Complacency.
The Curse.
..
.

Excitement

That feeling called excitement.
Felt again.


today,
at 1.15 PM
.

Motherhood

"Do you know who am I?? If you are bad, I am more bad than you. Do you know what I am going to do? If you vomit, I will make you clean it. "
These were the exact words i heard. not translated, but in accented english. The sentence was followed by more abusive ones, but i do not remember the exact words, but it included threats to make him clean the entire toilet (Which toilet?? the ones in train!), starving him for days.. As if she worked with the Abu Garib prison..

Whom to whom??

A mother to the son.
A 35-ish lady to a 11-ish boy.
I wished they were not from Kerala(Gads own cantree.....), but as usual, they turned out to be proper mallus...

Motherhood
n.

1. The state of being a mother.
2. The qualities of a mother.
3. Mothers considered as a group.

This incident in the train reminded me of this post of Rahul. Similar, very similar. The Lady, accompanied by her husband ( fielding a dull, sad face for obvious reasons.) and her kid were sharing the same cubicle with me. I still dont know, how on earth, do I, always end up with co passengers, who speaks on the mobile phone loud, Play music on the phone loud enough for the entire train(of course the music will be irritating as well), who would keep luggages on MY seat, and not bother to move it even on request, and so on and so on. May be because i travel single, that makes it flexible for the TTE.

Coming back to the mother and the son, it all started with the boy crying out for PEPSI. Of course i do believe PEPSI is a vile drink, and I do not recommend it to kids. I do drink it, when I need to work overnight, even though the next day will follow with disgusting upsets in my stomach.

So it started. The boy was a chip off the old block(the mother, not the father), in terms of annoyance. But I was surprised with the way the lady spoke, shouting, yelling, screaming, shreaking, etc etc, as if to someone who cheated her for her life time savings. It was just a boy crying out for PEPSI. The husband was embarrassed, NOT mentioning a word, head drooping low, not able to face any other passengers, while the mother continued to yell at least for half hour, until the cater boy managed to get the black drink.

I believe, Its normal for children to cry out for things they like. But i found it NOT appropriate for a mother to behave to her son the way she did. Funny, very funny, was when she ordered, and screamed at her husband later on, as if to a slave.

I see a lot of irresponsible mothers, more on the wealthier side of the society. And they blame the kids for everything. Reminds me of the school shoot out in Delhi.

An irresponsible parent molds an even more irresponsible and arrogant citizen.
I better NOT parent one.

;)

GiFtS

The things you do not have to pay.
Could be the most expensive.

.

Being Famous

.
.
Fame is a luxury.
Hard to give up when you are used to it.
.
.

Greed - I

.
.
There is no point in possessing things which you cannot feel.
Throwing them away might be the hardest part.
.
.

Words

.
The right pill to your lost thoughts
The best lubricant to your rotten hope
The right drug to give you the kicks
The serene place you want to revisit
The beauty you would stare at
The mate when you don't have one
The orgasm when you play it right.
.


to The Impulsive Ram on her first birthday.

Worst

is it worst

when you feel life aint worth it
or is it when
alcohol fails to give you the kicks??

Trust - II

.
When you have it
You don't care to keep it

When you loose it
You can never claim it

Throw it
If you worry keeping it.

But
It was stolen.
While asleep.
.

Broken pieces

For reasons still unknown

live lived on the edge

for reasons obvious

the broken pieces
.



Photograph: Google.. reproduced without permission as usual

GOD - II

'
GOD persists to maintain his non existence .
(At least to me)
'
The reason might be the non existence.
(?)
.

Feeling Alive

The feeling of feelings proves the existence of existence.

Anger. Happiness. Jealousy. Sadness. Surprise. Numbness. Anguish. Romance.
Pain. Pleasure. Pride. Depression. Hunger.

Just to mention a few feelings/emotions that the brain gives to the brain.

Some people think emotions make people alive. Some people think its when we have both joys and sorrows, do our life become meaningful. Some people look for success. Some people yearn to live the way the "holy Book" ask them to.

A million people, a million definition for life. The ones who really doesn't want to live, has already committed suicide, or are immobile from previous attempts.

What makes one feel alive?? Looking at the way the emotions people have, I remain confused.

Some bursts into tears watching a movie.
Some laughs at the same scene.
Some are confused.
Some feel uneasy.
Some avoids such movies.
Some plunge into deep thought.
Some argue as to the cause of the movie.
Some makes resolutions.

But
They all live until they are dead.
The world remains. Come what may.

Feeling Alive?





Image courtsey: google. Reproduced without permission from the unknown artist.

Things I love to look at..

.

The Tiger. The majestic walk.

The view from watch tower @ Silent Valley

The Sky about to rain

Pink Floyd or Led Zeppelin performing live

The cat.

My own robots performing beyond expectations.

A well Designed PCB.

Earth down under when I am flying.

A bottle of jack Daniels. (Not an empty one!!!)

The Honda Asimov

My old autograph books

A whole pile of HS5995 servomotors.

Saturn with its rings.

My own old posts at blogger.

Pitch black starry night

.

Which one?

Some people are more popular with the people who really know them.
Some people are less popular with the people who really know them.

Which one are you. ??

The road to eternity

The road to eternity invites me everyday.
These days i feel like accepting the invitation.

Square 1 - II

I have seen square one many times.
Never did it look this blank.
.

Silence - II

_


Silence can be the most restless.


_

GOD

–noun
1. the one Supreme Being, the creator and ruler of the universe.
2. the Supreme Being considered with reference to a particular attribute:

This question has always lingered in my mind since my childhood. All known definitions of GOD points to the most powerful in the entire universe. Implies, GOD is supreme to all humans, has higher level of thinking, and has control of everything in the universe.

One of the reasons why i turned atheist at a very young age - as early as age 12 - was the difference in the way GOD was defined and the way GOD was treated by the people around me. As another Sabarimala season comes to an end, I see crores of money devoted to shree Ayyappan. This money, obviously, goes into the devaswom board, which in turn goes to the bank accounts of the people ruling the board. In effect, the "holy" money can be seen as modified houses, luxury cars, and purchased lands.

Why is it that so many millions of people want to give the money to the corrupt ministers and the people who rule the board?? I am not just talking as to the case of Sabarimala, But there are numerous churches and temples, and mosques, who take in a lot of money from the devotees.

So, GOD loves money, which means Money makes GOD happy and in turn my money offered make GOD happy and will he hear my prayers and fullfill it.. Does it??

Forget money - anything - anything offered to GOD for fulfilling the prayers - I dont see any difference between GOD and the middle aged officer who needs a bribe for anything.

Is GOD so human to have emotions of anger, and emotion to be pleased, or to have a desire to punish the sinner??

If GOD is someone who rules the world, and if he is indeed the supreme power, and if he can change our lives - he is the same person who brings in hunger in Africa - He brings communal riots - He brings in natural disasters.

If that is his wish, I prefer not to accept him.
Even it means years of hell waiting for me. ( As if it isnt!! :P )

Sunday mornings are mine!! (So are other days, of course!)