My Orkut profile "About me' section... Just wanted to store it some place...
*Convo with self* Sometimes I wonder: Is Orkut a medium through which people can simply check out what other people are talking about them, under the complete pretention of anonymity, and also a place where the people holding the pre-mentioned conversations drop purposeful snippets so that the post-prementioned convo people can check them out with the knowledge and consent of the holders of the conversation but while retaining the pretention of anonymity and maintaining a firm silence (maybe) between each other in all combinations about the ergo spoken topic?
PS - Why the hell do all the chics on Orkut put their albums as locked? I won't post their snaps all over the internet; just appreciate and move on.
PS 2 - When will people realise that every person on Orkut knows what a "creepy, scary, stunning mind reader" is and has realised that the code they give is complete shit?
PS 3 - Or that there is no kid dying of some rare, supposedly uncurable disease that needs an immediate operation for which funds can be collected only by irritating the hell out of Orkutters by asking them to send the whole scrap all over the network. Guys, the play on one's moral goodness is no longer cute. Drop it.
XBox 360 - Or that those other flashy HTML enabled forwards are equally irritating, have caused huge amounts of irritation, anger, frustration and a general feeling of uncleanliness? *F.Y.I*: They do not make you look cool, in Sync or culturally or socially active. These people have enabled a digital network to require the same kind of cleanup that our dear city does. Dammit.
But I go ahead of myself, I don't want to scare away friends and other potentially interesting scrappers who can actually make up a vibrant social life.
Final Comment: I like browsing Orkut and inserting random (though relevant and maybe insightful) comments when I come across a profile or some other detail that catches my eye. I am not (maybe not) flirting if its a female in question. It forms a great way to make them brain juices flow.
Final Comment 2: This is all I care to say about myself at the moment, showcasing only that facet of my persona that overlaps my Orkuttian instincts.
Final Comment 3: I do not accept testimonials; In case someone does bother.
Footnote: I hate the distorted keyboard text language thats being used "lyK thS Is sO rAdICaL!" It doesn't represent GenX or Gen whatever in my watery eyes. Get over it and learn to write properly. Or go join Aamir Khan in TZP.
*Maniacal laughter at having possibly made someone read this much*
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Monday, January 28, 2008
Two kinds of pain
Two kinds of pain...
There are two kinds of pain,The first kind of pain,
is felt,
when a dear one is lost,
giving us despair and sorrow.
When an error proves its cost,
clouding hopes of tomorrow.
when bruised by an adversary's strike,
one slips, its gone - the will to fight.
The second kind of pain,
is felt,
when dear ones are lost,
but you know in peace they rest.
when mistakes prove their costs,
but only the learning do you attest.
When you reel from a blow, but somehow know,
you have it in you to go on.
When your muscles ache, from welcome strain,
spurred on from dusk to dawn.
When in your finest hour,
involved, intoxicated in your fight,
you know
victory, if not in hand,
will always be in sight.
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Bathed...
It sometime happens that I lose sleep at around four in the morning (relics of setting a four o'clock alarm during exam time), and look out through my window lying down. On Purnimas and on days with clear skies, I have an extremely beautiful view of celestial bodies straddling a dark hill, and this poem is primarily inspired by that. This time, I've also included a few of the notes I've used while composing this poem. They may/may not make sense, but I just wanted to include them here.
Bathed
I toss and turn, eyes closed, sweating hard,
sleep eludes me.
My thoughts rush about,
mingled with dreams,
My eyes open with a jolt,
I look around.
I'm in a different world,
it seems.
I'm bathed in moonlight, starlight pure,
sparkles off diamonds in the sky azure,
a clean glow off the mother of pearl,
casting white shadows upon the world.*
A thought strikes, I sleepily think,
does life have a foreign link?
To whom our own sun comes in sight,
as a star to bathe in, in the night?
Notes:
*- There is complete darkness behind celestial bodies. They block the 'dark light', and hence cast fair shadows over us.
- To use, dreamily think, alien being, window to outside....
- Sun with a different perspective (one from outside our own world),
- Avalanche rhyming? None at first and then more as the momentum picks up? Must try more later.
- Emphasize power words, translation of ideas as I think them.
Bathed
I toss and turn, eyes closed, sweating hard,
sleep eludes me.
My thoughts rush about,
mingled with dreams,
My eyes open with a jolt,
I look around.
I'm in a different world,
it seems.
I'm bathed in moonlight, starlight pure,
sparkles off diamonds in the sky azure,
a clean glow off the mother of pearl,
casting white shadows upon the world.*
A thought strikes, I sleepily think,
does life have a foreign link?
To whom our own sun comes in sight,
as a star to bathe in, in the night?
Notes:
*- There is complete darkness behind celestial bodies. They block the 'dark light', and hence cast fair shadows over us.
- To use, dreamily think, alien being, window to outside....
- Sun with a different perspective (one from outside our own world),
- Avalanche rhyming? None at first and then more as the momentum picks up? Must try more later.
- Emphasize power words, translation of ideas as I think them.
Friday, December 01, 2006
The Mystique Of Rain
This is poem I penned for a poetry writing competition... I hope I get the prize :-/ (The topic was given by them)
The Mystique of Rain
The Monsoons arrived, earthy, scented,
gently pattering against my window pane,
I fought, I tried, succumbed, relented,
and fell victim, to the mystique of rain.
Diamonds, showered from the heavens above,
is it not strange we search for others underground?
the ones descending are the tears of god,
but the buried ones do us humans hound.
The very essence, spirit of rain charms me,
ensnares me, with its seasonal fall,
its overpowering aroma of earth and sea,
its unique way of purging all.
O' Rain! Oh Mystery of Life!
Subject it is to its whims and pauses,
one year it destroys, bringing hopeless strife,
the very next it blesses, erasing the pain it causes.
God's tears? They may be so,
but are bound with flashes and thunder,
tears of God they are, as they flow,
but of joy or sorrow? I wonder.
The Mystique of Rain
The Monsoons arrived, earthy, scented,
gently pattering against my window pane,
I fought, I tried, succumbed, relented,
and fell victim, to the mystique of rain.
Diamonds, showered from the heavens above,
is it not strange we search for others underground?
the ones descending are the tears of god,
but the buried ones do us humans hound.
The very essence, spirit of rain charms me,
ensnares me, with its seasonal fall,
its overpowering aroma of earth and sea,
its unique way of purging all.
O' Rain! Oh Mystery of Life!
Subject it is to its whims and pauses,
one year it destroys, bringing hopeless strife,
the very next it blesses, erasing the pain it causes.
God's tears? They may be so,
but are bound with flashes and thunder,
tears of God they are, as they flow,
but of joy or sorrow? I wonder.
Sunday, October 01, 2006
Two
Two pigeons, on my window sill,
shying away from the monsoon rains,
gently cooing, with life afill,
seeing me, they risked the clouds again.
Back they came, fleeing those dreary, wet pains,
but I, covert in a corner, did blunder,
at their confused, affectionate fluttering- I laughed without refrain;
scared, they fled, wits asunder.
They were, two hearts, each shielding the other,
made wet by a person's blunder,
sticking together through varied times,
and by fate. Ah, Fate! What a wonder!
And I am one, with two eyes,
taking it all in,
hoping to be knowing and wise,
amidst the wide world's din.
shying away from the monsoon rains,
gently cooing, with life afill,
seeing me, they risked the clouds again.
Back they came, fleeing those dreary, wet pains,
but I, covert in a corner, did blunder,
at their confused, affectionate fluttering- I laughed without refrain;
scared, they fled, wits asunder.
They were, two hearts, each shielding the other,
made wet by a person's blunder,
sticking together through varied times,
and by fate. Ah, Fate! What a wonder!
And I am one, with two eyes,
taking it all in,
hoping to be knowing and wise,
amidst the wide world's din.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
The Flute Seller...
I know its been a long time, but here it is
The Flute Seller
On Sunday Mornings,
I sit and eagerly wait,
by my Window, for that soothing gait,
of distant melodies,
to flit past.
Played on a flute, unseen,
by an invisible basuriwalla, a fluteseller, I mean,
who strolls, (I think) with his pipes and reeds,
playing his salutes, his thoughts, his pleas.
His yet unseen flutes I never do buy,
but look for him every seventh day,
hoping that he passes me by,
as he goes about his blessed way.
On a Sunday Morning, I do awake,
I do sit, and break my fast,
but my mind does only wait,
for those distant, distant, so distant,
sweet melodies to flit past.
The Flute Seller
On Sunday Mornings,
I sit and eagerly wait,
by my Window, for that soothing gait,
of distant melodies,
to flit past.
Played on a flute, unseen,
by an invisible basuriwalla, a fluteseller, I mean,
who strolls, (I think) with his pipes and reeds,
playing his salutes, his thoughts, his pleas.
His yet unseen flutes I never do buy,
but look for him every seventh day,
hoping that he passes me by,
as he goes about his blessed way.
On a Sunday Morning, I do awake,
I do sit, and break my fast,
but my mind does only wait,
for those distant, distant, so distant,
sweet melodies to flit past.
Monday, May 22, 2006
Transitions...
Kudos to my bros Varun and Karthik, for having passed their Masters and Bachelors courses, respectively. To Kanch as well as she makes the transition from middle school to high school. To Kavi as she goes to middle school from elementary school (hurray Kavs, you're growing up now!!!) As for me, I too happen to be entering the college stage of my life. Lets hope we all continue our future phases and beyond with prosperity and happiness ;)
And another thing, I simply can't wait until we all get together this summer in India; we have to get a group photo of all the cousins; who have never been together at the same time!!!! Thats all for now. (Man, I REEEALLY can't wait for this family reunion)
And another thing, I simply can't wait until we all get together this summer in India; we have to get a group photo of all the cousins; who have never been together at the same time!!!! Thats all for now. (Man, I REEEALLY can't wait for this family reunion)
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Happy Mothers Day
Its that time of the year again...
For them...
My pens dipped before, I do not refute,
dipped to show love, to tribute,
that special one, those special ones,
those whom we call mothers, us daughters and sons.
But times have changed, the sand's falling,
and a new salutes in the calling,
one to our mothers, the givers of life,
gods incarnate, removers of strife.
Mature as have over the years,
you still allay all of our fears,
jewels of the minds, hearts of our souls,
dear mother it is us whom you do control.
Yes, as children we may fight and disobey,
and in these rhymes do we pray,
whatever rigours may come by us,
we forever get to do so thus...
Simply thinking of you fulfills,
our hungry stomachs; and those sudden spills
of emotion, are gently caressed,
as if your hands, loving and unstressed.
Like the north star, always guiding are you
but alas! Thoughts are many and words are few,
and long overdue are these ones, to remind,
more unique gems you cannot find.
We love you, to put it straight,
and will always be there at any rate,
for our greatest treasures, givers of life,
gods incarnate, removers of strife.
-A.C.
For them...
My pens dipped before, I do not refute,
dipped to show love, to tribute,
that special one, those special ones,
those whom we call mothers, us daughters and sons.
But times have changed, the sand's falling,
and a new salutes in the calling,
one to our mothers, the givers of life,
gods incarnate, removers of strife.
Mature as have over the years,
you still allay all of our fears,
jewels of the minds, hearts of our souls,
dear mother it is us whom you do control.
Yes, as children we may fight and disobey,
and in these rhymes do we pray,
whatever rigours may come by us,
we forever get to do so thus...
Simply thinking of you fulfills,
our hungry stomachs; and those sudden spills
of emotion, are gently caressed,
as if your hands, loving and unstressed.
Like the north star, always guiding are you
but alas! Thoughts are many and words are few,
and long overdue are these ones, to remind,
more unique gems you cannot find.
We love you, to put it straight,
and will always be there at any rate,
for our greatest treasures, givers of life,
gods incarnate, removers of strife.
-A.C.
Saturday, May 13, 2006
Growing Up
Well, vacations are on, and along with them come some quality thinking time as well. I realised that I was going through a transition stagel; y'know, teens, school to college, more responsibilities... As I was telling my special little bro Rohit sometime back, if you perform an action that is highly quantitative and/or highly qualitative, its weight, backlashes, results and effects increase manifold... Before I get to the point, kudos to the people at Azad Maidan, in Bombay, who staged a huge protest against reservations in colleges (mainly medical ones in this case), who got lathi charged and who managed to get prime time news coverage today to voice their needs. A couple of my friends attended as well and all I can say is that I wish I had been there for the experience. (In the aftermath, I feel a little jealous of them) At least I can mention them here... As for the reservation discussion, thats for later, as we move on to the main course for the day :
Growing Up
There comes a stage in everyone's life,
when at times alls euphoria, at others all is strife,
and coming off the blessed ignorance of babehood...
one must speak and think to understand, to be understood...
What is this strange occurence,
Explainable to all but us?
When a single word can spell interference,
and the very same gifts relief and trust?
They warn us against body changes,
to heed advice, to listen to them,
to use constraint, looking at our hormone ranges,
constraint? adolescence? all Ad Nauseam!
My heads spinning, for a sudden moment of clarity,
is often replaced with confusion or void,
why this unnatural disparity?
Meaningful? Or just to make me paranoid?
My goals are set; My rhythm? Not yet.
but I realize I must move on, ahead,
and that its just a matter of time, before my rhythm does begin to rhyme,
and in place of being adviced, I advise instead.
This puzzle right now, tightly coded,
the key seemingly with all but me,
old ways of younger days may be outmoded,
and will I crack it? We shall see.
I have faith that triumph I will,
with help from those who'll see my alm-box to fill,
and walk whichever way, I may , I know,
that the final things that have to be done, are mine to do so....
-A.C.
A talisman for the unsure...
Growing Up
There comes a stage in everyone's life,
when at times alls euphoria, at others all is strife,
and coming off the blessed ignorance of babehood...
one must speak and think to understand, to be understood...
What is this strange occurence,
Explainable to all but us?
When a single word can spell interference,
and the very same gifts relief and trust?
They warn us against body changes,
to heed advice, to listen to them,
to use constraint, looking at our hormone ranges,
constraint? adolescence? all Ad Nauseam!
My heads spinning, for a sudden moment of clarity,
is often replaced with confusion or void,
why this unnatural disparity?
Meaningful? Or just to make me paranoid?
My goals are set; My rhythm? Not yet.
but I realize I must move on, ahead,
and that its just a matter of time, before my rhythm does begin to rhyme,
and in place of being adviced, I advise instead.
This puzzle right now, tightly coded,
the key seemingly with all but me,
old ways of younger days may be outmoded,
and will I crack it? We shall see.
I have faith that triumph I will,
with help from those who'll see my alm-box to fill,
and walk whichever way, I may , I know,
that the final things that have to be done, are mine to do so....
-A.C.
A talisman for the unsure...
Sunday, April 02, 2006
Hehe... Oops
Weellll, its been a long time since I even thought about this blog, but now since vacations have started (yay!), I figure its 'time' to start updating it again. I dunno if anyone reads this blog still, but what the heck....
As I said, the exams are over (and they went quite okay) and the vacations are ON!!!!!!!!!! For some time, its just gonna be R&R! Just yesterday, me and mom went to VT, (Victoria Terminus for the uninitiated) and spent the whole day simply walking around the place. Once out of the station, we went past the famous stalls of VT, Flora fountain, the cricket crazy Azad Maidan and lots more. It was a lot of fun; discovering the city of Bombay. To top it all off, we saw the movie 'Rang De Basanti'. Even though I was seeing the movie for the second time, I still loved it. There are some movies really worth seeing the second time; you end of observing things that you simply missed in your first shot.
Man, I'm in kind of a haze right now... Can't think properly.... Anyways, further updates are on the charts...
As I said, the exams are over (and they went quite okay) and the vacations are ON!!!!!!!!!! For some time, its just gonna be R&R! Just yesterday, me and mom went to VT, (Victoria Terminus for the uninitiated) and spent the whole day simply walking around the place. Once out of the station, we went past the famous stalls of VT, Flora fountain, the cricket crazy Azad Maidan and lots more. It was a lot of fun; discovering the city of Bombay. To top it all off, we saw the movie 'Rang De Basanti'. Even though I was seeing the movie for the second time, I still loved it. There are some movies really worth seeing the second time; you end of observing things that you simply missed in your first shot.
Man, I'm in kind of a haze right now... Can't think properly.... Anyways, further updates are on the charts...
Saturday, October 08, 2005
Stuff...
Well, I'm here, with my exams looming. A few weeks from now, I will have to give my half-yearlies, commencing the famous "Great-Indian-1oth standard-board-dream-run". After that me and me buddies will have to face a number of exams, tests etc. etc. blah blah blah... I think its kinda a strange that I had spoken on the topic "Is success or faliure in exams really important?" Ha Ha. Drop the dloomy stuff, on to something nicer.
The Bengali festival of Durga Pooja has commenced, giving room for enjoyment. I have a few nights of conversing in Bengali, gorging on food, chilling with friends, the good stuff...
Other than that, nothing out of the blue at the moment, but I think I'll put up my speech on "Is success or faliure..."
The Bengali festival of Durga Pooja has commenced, giving room for enjoyment. I have a few nights of conversing in Bengali, gorging on food, chilling with friends, the good stuff...
Other than that, nothing out of the blue at the moment, but I think I'll put up my speech on "Is success or faliure..."
Sunday, October 02, 2005
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
My Two Dolls
My Two Dolls
I'm a fit, manly young lad,
athletic, sharp, strong,
but am touched with a very feminine fad,
to play with dolls, but don't get me wrong.
Two dolls to me are very close,
enough to lift me when I get morose,
enough to liven me up with a cheer,
enough to laugh with me, or to together shed a tear.
Close enough due to fate and time,
without those, this would be a different rhyme,
but to lighten this verse, teasing them is a pleasure,
their loving retorts I greatly treasure.
My mother being the first doll, among other things, of course,
thinking, working, usually in sweet repose,
as I support myself on her small shoulders, smilingly does she sigh,
to tease back, to counter riposte, under dignity does she try.
The second being mother's eldest sister, but wait,
teasing her is not easy, so smart and childlike is her gait.
Every time, without fail, she gives me a hard run for my money,
as funny as life, as true as love, her words, ginger and honey.
As I play around today with these two dolls, all mine,
doing what I used to consider below my years,
playing, poking, laughing, learning, still manly fit and fine,
I'm filled with pity with people who don't play with dolls, my peers.
I'm a fit, manly young lad,
athletic, sharp, strong,
but am touched with a very feminine fad,
to play with dolls, but don't get me wrong.
Two dolls to me are very close,
enough to lift me when I get morose,
enough to liven me up with a cheer,
enough to laugh with me, or to together shed a tear.
Close enough due to fate and time,
without those, this would be a different rhyme,
but to lighten this verse, teasing them is a pleasure,
their loving retorts I greatly treasure.
My mother being the first doll, among other things, of course,
thinking, working, usually in sweet repose,
as I support myself on her small shoulders, smilingly does she sigh,
to tease back, to counter riposte, under dignity does she try.
The second being mother's eldest sister, but wait,
teasing her is not easy, so smart and childlike is her gait.
Every time, without fail, she gives me a hard run for my money,
as funny as life, as true as love, her words, ginger and honey.
As I play around today with these two dolls, all mine,
doing what I used to consider below my years,
playing, poking, laughing, learning, still manly fit and fine,
I'm filled with pity with people who don't play with dolls, my peers.
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
A few things to say...
Well, here I am with a few things in my mind that I really have to pen/blog down somewhere or the other; so here goes...
Firstly, two days ago, I heard the loudest thunder imaginable. Now, think of the loudest thunder you've heard; and multiply it by ten : thats how loud it was. It simply freaked me out. I was cosily sleeping in my bed at around 5 in the morning, when I suddenly wake up to hear this loud rumbling sound. But that was just the appetiser... Then followed a series of thunder rolls accompanied by strange vibrations, the second serving of the appetiser, and then all of a sudden, without warning, the main course arrived on my table. The sound that I heard shivering in my bed was so unearthly, my very ears seemed to crawl with fright. The next day, I sadly learnt that what I experienced was not a dream. My friends shared this occurrence with me the first thing in the morning. Man, something strange is goin on...
Secondly, shoot, I'm forgetting what it is... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... Umm... yeah, I got it now, we, the senior students of our school, had to take charge of the junior classes for the Teachers' day celebrations on Sept 3. Teachers Day is actually on the 5th, but due to technical difficulties, the event was preponed to the third. Anyways, on that day we discovered what 'innocent', 'obedient', 'disclipined' students (who remind us uncannily of ourselves) put our teachers through. After five classes of he!!, me and all of my contemporaries were ready to drop. Just after one day. It was kinda hard to imagine how the teachers keep going on and on like that... We had a small cultural program on the fifth and I had to make a small speech there. My ending line was:
And its good to know that I'll always have
your smiling face
to guide me when
things are out of place
A slightly modified part from one of my old poems, kinda cheap to use readymade verse, but it couldn't be helped.
Thirdly, we had our school 'educational excursion' (read " picnic ") today and man it was fun. There were two buses, one carrying our class and the other carrying the other one. All of it was good, we sang popular hindi songs till we were hoarse, blah blah blah, had ourselves stuffed up with junk food, blah blah blah, sprayed soda all over each other, blah blah blah...
Fourthly... Today, after the 'educational excursion', I went down for a game of good ol' football with my friends. I go on the field, doing the warm up thing, kicking passes here and there, when I notice of my friends teasing another from the corner of my eye. I don't bother with it, happens all the time, and instead I concentrate on the long pass my buddy is running up to give me. The ball flies in the air. I bend my knees, ready. I suddenly become aware of two figures hurtling towards me. The first one passes me (oh, thats my pal running after doing the "tease"), so I return my attention to the ball, still in the air. I forgot about the second figure. My poor teased friend, running, after his assailant, with his head down. WHAM. That was not the ball. Somehow, my friend's head makes contact with the corner of my upper lip, giving me a blow that sent me reeling. My glasses fly off and I only just manage to stay on my feet. I realise that there is something hot filling my mouth. I make the mistake of opening it. Blood red. Stream. I need say no more. Running, screaming. I stay calm, tell my anguished friend its OK. Inform my captain that I'm sorry that I won't be able to play. Smile, with blood on my face, at the horrified looks my friends' faces are ornamented with. Go to a nearby tennis court. Horrfiy more people, who stare at me like I'm Godzilla (may god bless his/her soul). Politely ask for some water. Smile at how quickly it arrives. Try to wash off the mess, hopeless. See my best bud Shreyas arriving nearby, by fate, on a scooter. Hop on, Shreyas' house, here I come. Upon intensive cleaning and icing, I see that the wound extends well into my cheek from the inside. Shreyas' mom gives me honey, cotton, a hanky, and more ice to apply on the wound. An hour passes with pain. Numbness. A little pain.
As I sit in front of the computer now, for the first time in my life I experience pain when I smile. Slightly irritable, hoping that this hindrance goes away soon, I wonder what other people are thinking about now...
Firstly, two days ago, I heard the loudest thunder imaginable. Now, think of the loudest thunder you've heard; and multiply it by ten : thats how loud it was. It simply freaked me out. I was cosily sleeping in my bed at around 5 in the morning, when I suddenly wake up to hear this loud rumbling sound. But that was just the appetiser... Then followed a series of thunder rolls accompanied by strange vibrations, the second serving of the appetiser, and then all of a sudden, without warning, the main course arrived on my table. The sound that I heard shivering in my bed was so unearthly, my very ears seemed to crawl with fright. The next day, I sadly learnt that what I experienced was not a dream. My friends shared this occurrence with me the first thing in the morning. Man, something strange is goin on...
Secondly, shoot, I'm forgetting what it is... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... Umm... yeah, I got it now, we, the senior students of our school, had to take charge of the junior classes for the Teachers' day celebrations on Sept 3. Teachers Day is actually on the 5th, but due to technical difficulties, the event was preponed to the third. Anyways, on that day we discovered what 'innocent', 'obedient', 'disclipined' students (who remind us uncannily of ourselves) put our teachers through. After five classes of he!!, me and all of my contemporaries were ready to drop. Just after one day. It was kinda hard to imagine how the teachers keep going on and on like that... We had a small cultural program on the fifth and I had to make a small speech there. My ending line was:
And its good to know that I'll always have
your smiling face
to guide me when
things are out of place
A slightly modified part from one of my old poems, kinda cheap to use readymade verse, but it couldn't be helped.
Thirdly, we had our school 'educational excursion' (read " picnic ") today and man it was fun. There were two buses, one carrying our class and the other carrying the other one. All of it was good, we sang popular hindi songs till we were hoarse, blah blah blah, had ourselves stuffed up with junk food, blah blah blah, sprayed soda all over each other, blah blah blah...
Fourthly... Today, after the 'educational excursion', I went down for a game of good ol' football with my friends. I go on the field, doing the warm up thing, kicking passes here and there, when I notice of my friends teasing another from the corner of my eye. I don't bother with it, happens all the time, and instead I concentrate on the long pass my buddy is running up to give me. The ball flies in the air. I bend my knees, ready. I suddenly become aware of two figures hurtling towards me. The first one passes me (oh, thats my pal running after doing the "tease"), so I return my attention to the ball, still in the air. I forgot about the second figure. My poor teased friend, running, after his assailant, with his head down. WHAM. That was not the ball. Somehow, my friend's head makes contact with the corner of my upper lip, giving me a blow that sent me reeling. My glasses fly off and I only just manage to stay on my feet. I realise that there is something hot filling my mouth. I make the mistake of opening it. Blood red. Stream. I need say no more. Running, screaming. I stay calm, tell my anguished friend its OK. Inform my captain that I'm sorry that I won't be able to play. Smile, with blood on my face, at the horrified looks my friends' faces are ornamented with. Go to a nearby tennis court. Horrfiy more people, who stare at me like I'm Godzilla (may god bless his/her soul). Politely ask for some water. Smile at how quickly it arrives. Try to wash off the mess, hopeless. See my best bud Shreyas arriving nearby, by fate, on a scooter. Hop on, Shreyas' house, here I come. Upon intensive cleaning and icing, I see that the wound extends well into my cheek from the inside. Shreyas' mom gives me honey, cotton, a hanky, and more ice to apply on the wound. An hour passes with pain. Numbness. A little pain.
As I sit in front of the computer now, for the first time in my life I experience pain when I smile. Slightly irritable, hoping that this hindrance goes away soon, I wonder what other people are thinking about now...
Saturday, August 27, 2005
A Game Of Chess
For Varun, Kaushik, Karthik, Rohit and Saheb...
A Game Of Chess
Two old men set up the checked field,
a great battle is to ensue,
each side choices colour and victory, never to yield,
but strange, the soldiers are but few.
Fighters placed in a square alone,
all ever ready to save their king,
faceless in black and white, and set in stone,
the glories of these armies do I sing.
The King, paralysed, can move but a pace,
honest rooks, crooked bishops, the strong queen, never jest,
yet in cunning the knight none can race,
that said, the hardy pawns bring up the rest.
The White army makes the first attack,
the Black ever defiant, reply,
the two generals, their wits demurely intact,
to trap the other king, do they try.
On and on the battle rages,
but the White general errs, panics, scrambles at large,
alert throughout all stages,
the sharp Black knights, charge!!
The White vanuguards, citadel, shatter
but are unimportant now,
for the knights jump over former and latter,
as sweat drips from the White marshall's prow.
The poor White King, beleagured, trapped,
his defenses tricked, as his masters head wrings,
even in danger he can't move, his options sapped,
its called checkmate, friend, and the Black side wins.
Hope You Liked It...
A Game Of Chess
Two old men set up the checked field,
a great battle is to ensue,
each side choices colour and victory, never to yield,
but strange, the soldiers are but few.
Fighters placed in a square alone,
all ever ready to save their king,
faceless in black and white, and set in stone,
the glories of these armies do I sing.
The King, paralysed, can move but a pace,
honest rooks, crooked bishops, the strong queen, never jest,
yet in cunning the knight none can race,
that said, the hardy pawns bring up the rest.
The White army makes the first attack,
the Black ever defiant, reply,
the two generals, their wits demurely intact,
to trap the other king, do they try.
On and on the battle rages,
but the White general errs, panics, scrambles at large,
alert throughout all stages,
the sharp Black knights, charge!!
The White vanuguards, citadel, shatter
but are unimportant now,
for the knights jump over former and latter,
as sweat drips from the White marshall's prow.
The poor White King, beleagured, trapped,
his defenses tricked, as his masters head wrings,
even in danger he can't move, his options sapped,
its called checkmate, friend, and the Black side wins.
Hope You Liked It...
Sunday, August 21, 2005
For A Specifc Audience, Again.
For My Sisters Dear
As I gaze out in the sky so blue,
with a slash of orange, of pink a hue,
I'm sad to say this present is long overdue,
for my sisters, my precious few.
As I hasten on my machine to write,
thinking fast in the evening light,
upon myself I'm filled with spite,
as I hope this is adequate, hopefully quite.
My heartless critic writers,
my opponents, punishers, fighters,
yet bosom close ye far and short sighters,
to have you I'm a lucky blighter.
Your eyes filled with rage,joy, or with many a tear,
your word can be a petal, or a sharp spear,
yet this one thing I fear,
I couldn't love you more, my sisters dear.
As I gaze out in the sky so blue,
with a slash of orange, of pink a hue,
I'm sad to say this present is long overdue,
for my sisters, my precious few.
As I hasten on my machine to write,
thinking fast in the evening light,
upon myself I'm filled with spite,
as I hope this is adequate, hopefully quite.
My heartless critic writers,
my opponents, punishers, fighters,
yet bosom close ye far and short sighters,
to have you I'm a lucky blighter.
Your eyes filled with rage,joy, or with many a tear,
your word can be a petal, or a sharp spear,
yet this one thing I fear,
I couldn't love you more, my sisters dear.
Saturday, August 20, 2005
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Raksha Bandhan.... Careful now...
Hey Guys, I'm feeling rather apprehensive on the eve of Raksha Bandhan... I hope I get as few 'rakhis' as possible from outside the family from people my age or younger ;-0
Kidding aside,
the tradition of Raksha Bandhan first started when a widowed Queen, desperate for protection, tied the symbolic thread (called a Rakhi) to a neighbouring King. Doing this, she placed the role of a brother on the king and thus enlisted his protection. Nowadays, girls young and old tie 'rakhis' to boys in a display of brother-sister affection, although there may be some exceptions. So here are my best wishes for all of those who are to indulge in this extremely symbolic ceremony.
This is Ambar, signing out.
Sunday, August 14, 2005
Happy Independence Day!!!!!!
Today, August 15, is the day of independence for the republic of India. 58 years ago the leaders of this great nation had won their long, hard fought war against the British rulers. My heartfelt salutations to those who sacrificed their all for the nation.
The day started out pretty well with a function in our school. We were serenaded with various patriotic songs and tickled by many witty speeches. Every where around me I could see the 'Tirangas' held up high. The sensation that you experience when you see the flag being unfurled atop the pole and when the national anthem begins, is something that you can't describe. After the school function we went to a Social Studies and Science exhibition held nearby. We had a nice time terrorizing the people whose projects and explanantion were not at par with the others. Man, being sadistic sometimes has its pleasures ;-)
All in all, a good day uptil now (11:00 AM, 15 August, 2005)
VANDE MATARAM!!!!
Monday, August 01, 2005
Something To Cling On To
Guys, I recently talked about my passion for books and that post inspired me to come out with a poem about, well, see for yourselves...
Something To Cling On To
Time drags by, seconds seem hours,
and your heart beats utterly slow,
your breathings fine, but memory chars,
as spontaneous times seem so long ago.
When you struggle to find that vibe,
that electric spark with you,
know this my friend (and this is no jibe)
that you need something to cling on to.
Now to me this question you might bring,
What is this wonderful thing?
That fills our hearts with desire?
Sets our minds on fire?
My answer, ever unchanging, remains,
through fire, dirt, and monsoon rains,
through every realm of time and space,
a PASSION, to set your soul ablaze.
A passion, a spark, an idea,
an immersion, a desire, a skill,
It is whatever you may name,
but sets your heart afill,
with a calming breath, a new flame.
Use it, nurture it, feel it,
it will fill you anew with life,
care for it, know it, think of it,
and gone are your vexation, emptiness and strife.
There is always, always, that thing for you,
that something to cling on to,
in boredom and in fear,
that something ever so dear.
Something To Cling On To
Time drags by, seconds seem hours,
and your heart beats utterly slow,
your breathings fine, but memory chars,
as spontaneous times seem so long ago.
When you struggle to find that vibe,
that electric spark with you,
know this my friend (and this is no jibe)
that you need something to cling on to.
Now to me this question you might bring,
What is this wonderful thing?
That fills our hearts with desire?
Sets our minds on fire?
My answer, ever unchanging, remains,
through fire, dirt, and monsoon rains,
through every realm of time and space,
a PASSION, to set your soul ablaze.
A passion, a spark, an idea,
an immersion, a desire, a skill,
It is whatever you may name,
but sets your heart afill,
with a calming breath, a new flame.
Use it, nurture it, feel it,
it will fill you anew with life,
care for it, know it, think of it,
and gone are your vexation, emptiness and strife.
There is always, always, that thing for you,
that something to cling on to,
in boredom and in fear,
that something ever so dear.
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