Monday, November 30, 2009

933 : Dave Matthews Band

I have been listening to a lot of DMB in the recent days. I have been an ardent fan of them for over 7 years now.

I like the fact that they sound bluesey, rocksey, classical and jazzy all the same time. Their unique sound and jazz rooted compositions are horrible addictive. I like almost every song they ever recorded, and every single version of their song… I have at least 15 version of “Crash”. (They are actually a live act who also record albums, so most of their albums are live versions of their songs…and they are famous for unusual improvisations while they play live.)

As an example, Crash is a song loaded with sexual references, but I am yet to meet someone who does not feel bluesy(and soft in the head) after listening to the song. (Lines like “hike up your skirt a little more, and show your world to me”….would sound so crass in everyday life, but in the DMB universe, they sound like poetry.)

If you have to listen to only 1 rock band (can they be classified like that?) go listen to it. I promise you, that your 2 year old will come fall in love with it….its simply musical and addictive. Dont look at them as if they were a “loud” rock band, they are not. You will hear instruments like a sax, a clarinet, a bass guitar, a trumpet….all playing live in the background….which other rock band you know plays that?

dmb dmb2

Friday, November 27, 2009

932 : (Yet) Another bee story…

Me - snoring & snoozing on my lazy bed,
A boring bee waltzing around (my) heavy head,
She goes in a drone hum hum hummmmm,
A moment of fine balance, pregnant with “become”.

(This is almost in the haiku territory, so will classify it as #5)

931 : Kaizen (continuous improvement…guffaw:-))

Yesterday, as I was trying to balance out a corporate decision, someone told me…. “you think too much, just do it.”

I have got this feedback in personal life as well.

I am steadily changing, but I find the impatience of the “life” around me slightly amusing.

Eventually, “I” will get there, “I” will improve and “stop thinking” (be thoughtless!!), but I am pretty sure at the end of it, the “I” will not be the “me”.

930 : Curling up at mid life

He is 35ish, plays snakes and ladders in the corporate world, has a wife and 2 kids. Yet today, when he returned home, he did not speak too much, he did not play with the girls and kick up a storm, he did not turn on the television.

He ate his dinner, had a hand-and-eye conversation at the table, then retired to bed.

As he hit the bed, he curled up, just as if it were the natal position, just as if he were 6 months old.

Today, and maybe it was just for today only, he was a baby again.

Thursday, November 26, 2009

929 : Getting Creative Nomad Jukebox Zen Xtra 60gb to work on Vista

(SHOULD WORK FOR ALL NOMADS – HDD based Creative player.)

I bought a Creative Nomad Jukebox Zen Xtra 60GB in 2003 for 329 dollars. It has served me very well in these past years. (It keeps playing at my office desk 14 hours a day.) Its built as if it was a German Engineering product, built to last.

I upgraded to Vista and for some days could not get it to work on it. Creative’s site is useless in this regard. A few other user forums seem long and winded. Its essentially just a 2 step process to get it to work.


1. Google for NMEX_PCApp_3_01_10.exe, JB3MV2_PCWDRV_US_2_01_00.EXE
Both are creative drivers. Download them.

2. Right click on both files, set their compatability mode to Windows XP SP2.

3. Run as administrator and install. Should get installed seamlessly.


You should be now able to browse your player using your windows explorer.


Wednesday, November 25, 2009

928 : “I don’t omlette..”

A few days ago, niece and I are approaching the breakfast table. I ask her, “Sweetheart, will you have omelette, with nice onions and tommies in it”.

She goes, “I don’t omelette”.

Obviously, she wanted to say “I dont want an omelette”, but her “wrong” English seemed perfectly in line with current usage.

Me ??? I still very much omelette :-)

927 : My hands are beginning to itch….

So severely, that it might get sore soon. Hope that itch or sore does not rub onto my mind.

My hands, they sure are itching…..(Is the answer still blowing in the wind :-))

926 : Bobby Dhillon

Amma and we were having a great laugh re-christening Bob Dylan as  Bobby Dhillon – a typical Delhite.

Guffaw :-)

925 : “Mamta Aunty”

When we used to live at Thane (where I grew up), we used to lease a part of our house. When I was around 3, our neighbour was a young couple – Mamta and Mr. Pias (I dont recall his name).

Mamta was a bengali married to a Christian, and hence Mamta Pias and to me – Mamta Aunty.

She taught me to read, to eat and savor mutton and gave me oodles of hugs and love at that age. She must have showered at least 200 comics on me. I probably owe my entire reading habit to her.

I missed “Mamta Aunty” for long, but given my limited social skills we never stayed in touch. Years later, when I was some 17-18, once I had gone with my mom to visit her at her Kalva residence.

She looked frail, unhappy and mom told me she was very ill.

I never met her again. I still miss her.

A silent heartfelt prayer for my 2nd loveliest aunt (my first has to be Lalitha – my mom’s sis). I still miss her, but thank her for my reading and writing skills. If I ever write a book, she definitely features in the list of “acknowledgements”.

Another butterfly effect.

924 : Naveen Erasala

This guy used to be my brother’s classmate. I just remembered a conversation with him, which I had when I was probably in 4 or 5th grade.

He introduced me to a song called “Shine on you crazy diamond”, and urged me to listen to it. My knowledge of western popular music was limited to a few popular artists such as MJ and Madonna.

He almost pleaded that I listen to the song and the album, infact he loaned his pirated copy to me for a few days. I listened to it for a few days, but just did not get hooked on.

I gave up.

A few years later, I chanced upon the very same album at Rhythm House, Kala Godha (must have been around my 7th or 8th grade). I picked this album on a whim.

This time when I heard it again, I was hooked and my deep love for Pink Floyd was born. Years later, I probably know most bands worth knowing from the 70s to the 90s, but I think I owe my entire understanding of that space to the single idea germ which Naveen put in my head.

For that, he does deserve a heartfelt thanks. This is the last wave of the butterfly effect he started more than 20 years ago.

923 : The dreaming tree

I spent 4 hours with Ma and Pa on Saturday. 4 priceless hours that I shall carry with me to my grave. Memories??

- 3 cups of the most divine coffee (I can never reconcile, how a coffee tastes so marvelously different and exotic, when Ma makes it – it just reinforces my belief that feeding and cooking is an art, which we have reduced to an almost mechanical task. I have spent hours practicing my coffee with no success, but she gets it perfectly ad infinitum, though she lacks a sense of smell. Magic and love are the major ingredients of food, and its time we acknowledge that.)
- Watching the “Woodstock” DVD of “The Band”, and Bob Dylan “Live at Newport 63-65” featuring Joan Baez and Johnny Cash.
- Gems of insight from Ma – “art is always a search for the truth,  from a generation (now) where things are coming easy, and angst is absent – great art just cannot emerge”. (more on a post later)
- Conversations in the tiny kitchen about “darling Ayesha” (darling to both of us) – and Ma’s perspective how life will be so different without her “daughter”.
- Debating, gushing over Dylan land – and “Its all over now, baby blue” (we heard it quite a few times).
- Yeats and his poetry, and why it will always be timeless.
- Her two sons(like all proud MaPa’s, she was gushing all over them), and why music will continue to play such an important in their lives. 

I have learnt so much from MaPa, about a generation of life, love and music – which I never experienced. Conversations always leave me so enriched. I love the fact that they don't judge, they don't preconceive, they are anti-prude (assume that is opposite of prude), they are inclusive, and more so, so easily adopt an external force into their own little lives. 

It was an intensely personal experience, as we spoke about this and that, it reminded me again and again, “this is side of my life” that I crave and miss the most, but no use cribbing, its very much in my control.

I should definitely do this more often.

922 : The house that jack built, (and ma and pa made a home) !!

Was at my mom’s place, visiting Saturday night. Her house is newly done up, and I just fell in love with “it” all over again. It already was one my top 5 abodes in the “whole world”, and the doing it up, pushed it a little further up the hierarchy.

What do I like about the house?
- Facts first, its a tiny house, in a old suburb outside Mumbai. Its not jazzy by any standard. It does not display any of the standard accouterments or trappings of wealth. And yet….I have always innately felt one with it.
- For one, the house has immense character. Tons of “personal” touches all over the house – from the books overflowing out of their book cabinets, to the lazily placed Bose Wave Radio, to Roald Dahl – Johnny Depp video collection, classic rock albums(Dylan all over the place), tiny memories from all over the world, replicas of “then" zeitgeist paintings, photos and color….all of them intensely personal – almost as if, the house were a canvas on which a couple of  “lifes painted their lives”.
- The people who live in the house(ma and pa) seem to unabashedly adore  it. They just have made it their own. Its not a roof, not a a shelter, not a rest area, not a stop-gap before a “bigger comfy house” – none of that, “this is it”,  a place where they share their hopes and fears and happiness and joys and lives.

I can ramble along, but will leave you with a few snaps of it, and if you ever thought the cliche of “home vs. house” had any merit at all – I suggest, make a slap dash to ma and pa’s “home”.

IMG_1035 IMG_1038 IMG_1017 IMG_1026

IMG_1016 IMG_1053 IMG_1054


Tuesday, November 17, 2009

921 : Eye for the “wrong” detail

Just like a stand-up sees the underlying “laugh” even in a somber moment, my eyes see irony and melancholy even in the most common everyday occurrence.

Is that good or bad? I don’t know, I don’t want to know. Its not something I chose, so I will continue to run with it, till it stays with me.

Maybe, thats what makes me a wannabe poet.

920 : “Do you make a lot of money?”

I am a sort of freewheeling, a modern contemporary fatalist, who believes that life is one off-roader followed by yet another, a block around the bend.

I spend easily, I gift a lot, and I love to see the wealth flowing around.

Someone asked me a few days ago, “You must be making quite a bit, hah? You live quite a decent lifestyle.”, and then winked to convey he was half-joking.

I wanted to tell him, “Buddy, its not about what I am making, its about what I have lost in the past, and what continues to leak from me. If you lose that much, you tend to ease into the process so much more easily.”

And hell no, I would not have been half-joking.

919 : Which one is more suprahuman you decide?

New maid started work yesterday. She makes a few hundred rupees for about 30 minutes of work a day.

Yoga teacher started today (feels kinda odd to say she started “work” today…). She will make a few grand for 8*1 hour sessions per month.

Maid has had no conversation about money save the actual takeway negotiation, she expects to get paid on the first of next month for 15 days of work.

Teacher on the other hand, mentioned today, she only works on “advance” and needs to have the cash rolling a month ahead.

(Both of these come home – so we are always within range, unless we decide to take a flight to Mexico tomorrow :-))

See the contrast, get the drift?

Makes me believe, we do necessarily live in a fragile fractured world.

918 : “Be thoughtless”

One of my first and key takeaways from the yoga class. How terribly charming :-)

917 : My meat vs. veggie debate is almost concluded…(for now, that is….guffaw:-))

And the winner is “no one in particular” :-)

This has been a cyclical debate for the best part of 15 years in my head. And every day, I see new dimensions to the same “problem”.

Maybe this kind of ideation and refinement is what “elders” termed as “meditation”. Whether it is useless or not (most likely it is, but I do it, because I need to, not because I want to :-), is for you to decide.

916 : Its that time of the year…

I keep getting periodic urges which are almost thematic for 3-6 months, and they care cyclical (and hell no, I mean urges and not “those urges” :-)

For example, all of 2005, I read up on the process of “dying” and went deep into Tibetan philosophy, 2006 I read up a lot on the Indian stock markets (to the extent that I still know almost every single company listed and have a view on it – whether that has any merit is debatable), 2007 was the re-discovery of fiction, 2008 was Alan Watts rediscovery  (I “credit” the guy with making  me rudderless again, I thought I had some sort of clutch in Tibetan Buddhism, that is long gone….how horrible :-)), 2008 was the rediscovery of poetry and art….and 2009 continues…..but 2009 is also…..

The year of rediscovering poetry and creative writing. I have been waking up at odd times during with strong (almost “need to” kind of ) urges to do a brain dump of a few ideas. This blog has been my friend, savior and outlet. (Also, 2009 has been about rediscovering all my old favorite classic rock bands, Simon & Garfunkel, Dylan, Dire Straits, U2, Floyd, DMB….)

Time will tell what 2010 holds for me, hopefully not “those urges” ;-)

Monday, November 16, 2009

915 : The Fuzzy November Rain

Yesterday, as we were driving, little nephew and I were enjoying the rain. Rolling down the window, just a tiny wee bit, we both were putting our palms out (one tiny and one relatively huge), getting it drenched, getting it back in and wiping it on each other faces and exclaiming loudly “ahah!! cool cool”.

This ritual went on for as long as we were driving in the rain (the best part of 20 mins), and neither of us seemed tired or bored of it.

Strangely, it made me feel, a little connected and disconnected (fuzzy again) with Uncle Universe. “Connected” because I was holding a little (but completely undiluted) piece of zen in my hand, and disconnected, because it felt a little odd (and terribly abstracted) in that sheltered car, when there was a lovely autumn rain raging outside. Did not seem right at all.

(For the record, I have never owned a Umbrella in my life, I have lived my whole life getting drenched in the rains, and I believe “rains==ill health” is the most bigoted and idiotic myth perpetrated by modern man.

All through school, college, engineering – umbrella was an anathema…..Thats another example of my unusual yardstick(s)/value(s) in life.)

914 : How queer, if it did not mean something else, would have said “almost gay” :-)

I am amused, at how often, we (that includes me completely) fall over each other, trying to impress people (and I mean seriously “impress”) who are already completely and wholly bought into us.

An example, would be me making that extra effort to even posture some stance to my wife or my sister or my buddies. I see myself doing that sometimes, if not “many” times, and every time, I notice, it makes me feel the sleepy hollow and (not to forget) terribly shallow.

On a serious note, I also realize how far away I am from even contemplating Buddhism. (Whats the co-relation, you asked, is it? My friend, the answer in a tiny 3 letter word, called “ego”). For a start, I want to, at the least, stop this “posturing” to ones already bought into me, lets say, thats a November resolution.

913 : Don’t Let the Sun go down on me….

IMG_1012 IMG_1011

912 : The times, they’re sure challenging

By my fundamental “Iyer” nature, I apply some or the other yardstick to most things in life. And some of them are very unusual, but very important in my head. Like for example, my extremely strong belief, that the taste of food lies in the person who makes it. If the person doing it does not have the passion for it (be it then a chef, or a mother) you will invariably find the key “special” ingredient missing. How rational is such a belief/yardstick? In my head, “very”…..

So be it food, personal relationships, my banker, my friend sancho (whoa!! how did Amit Varma  break in here??)….to everyone a corresponding measuring dipstick exists.

I have a sinking feeling,  that, some of  my more “important” dipsticks will be severely tested in the coming days….and it makes me feel slightly queasy. Six Flags here I come again :-)

911 : I am Kung Fu Panda (and the bottle is my dragon scroll)

I looked into the bottle, hoping to find the “message”, all I found was a source of light, and then I realized, the “light” is the message :-)



910 : This leaf kept wailing, “Dew drops keep falling on my head…”


909 : Finally managed to capture the proverbial frog in the well :-)


(Little Italy @ Sula Wineyards)

908 : I see you bathing in the purple rain :-)

IMG_1007 IMG_1004

(Outside little Italy @ Sula Wineyards)

907 : “Fiddler on the roof” meets “The burning pool”


The pool at “The Gateway, Nashik”

906 : Another contemporary koan

Would I be happier, if I got featured in Fortune’s 40 under 40, or would it feel more divine, if I had a book of poems published ?

(Within this koan is contained the secret of why some of us blog).

905 : A terrible beauty is born…


Sri & Smi both felt this was an atrocious painting (they are artists in their own right and hence entitled to voice their critique).

I actually did not find it that bad, especially given that I felt it conveyed a “rustic” image.

I think the conversation quickly shifted to the “racks” and very soon all we were doing was laughing. They definitely weighed a lot into our conversation :-). Heavy lifting :-)

We must have spent at least 25 minutes laughing and debating on this art piece. I think that in itself makes it a worth a buy, or at least a blog post.

Maybe this what Yeats meant when he said “A terrible beauty is born….”

(From #215, The Gateway, Nashik)

904 : A contemporary koan….

If the person who birthed you, thinks you have failed her, have you actually failed in life as well?

(another variation)

If the person who birthed you, thinks you have failed her universe, “have you then actually failed the universe?”.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

903 : If wishes were horses…..

Sometimes I wish, you could (also) view it from where I see,
Sometimes I wish, (why don’t) we all just let the other person be,

Sometimes I wish, this story was afloat a baloony cloud,
Sometimes I wish, the “hidden” message was not so very loud,

Sometimes I wish,  there was no teacup in this poisonous storm,
Sometimes I wish, if only once, we chose function over this fine form,

Sometimes I wish, this ball would take a smooth silky curve,
Sometimes I wish, we dance, we laugh, and all that “visible” verve,

Sometimes I wish, I grew cosy and comfortable in my stolen shoes,
Sometimes I wish, I stop this “wishing business” and accept the hornet’s hues.

902 : Clash of Cymbals

Its more important to sleep, than to write.

Is this yet another clash of symbols  :-)

901 : My story in 3 minutes flat

Not much (initial) feedback for my story.

Sweets spoke to me at length, she believes its more elegant in language than the ones on the NPR site, but on the flip side lacks the punch. (She almost said, “all style, no substance” :-)

I did not intend to defend against that, there is more than a grain of truth in what she said. My point to her was, a “plot” or a “climax” is usually nothing but how involved a reader has gotten into a story.

If you read my story and felt for Ma or nurse, I think its a home run from my perspective. Thats not to take away the truth contained in her feedback…she does have a very valid point (something to be worked and improved upon).

But then, if you know me well enough, I will choose a Rushdie over a Amitav Ghosh(two extremes for me), even if I did not know written English.

(Keep the feedback coming, very curious (and eager) to know what you felt about it.)

900 : Beethoven who could not clean his teeth

So they tell you, you are “Beethoven”, you re-create the magic of 9th on the piano….you are closest thing post Jesus, that is “divine”. 

You reach home and stand in front of the bath mirror with a tooth brush and some paste on it. You are still struggling to clean your teeth well enough, you never really learnt it, though a tiny growing child gets that joke, pretty much, by the time she is 3 years old.

Hubris on one hand, dyslexia on another. The joke is in both your hands :-) quite literally.

899 : The taste of bread….

I am having my second cup of posion with some lovely bread (a la bread and wine….just that in this case, wine is chai).

I strongly believe commercial bread is such a hoax, an horrible insult to our taste buds, almost a naked dance on our gross sensibilities.

Which is why, I like Europe. The handmade bread, makes me salivate. (A society that makes great bread, must be great :-)

I suggest this simple test. Chew a handmade ciabatta, close your eyes and feel the taste of fine flour in your tongue….and you will realize why Jesus “broke bread” instead of chewing on a “chicken lollipop”.

Now you know why “Bread-talk” scores for me. Every penny is worth it. Avoid commercial bread, avoid the gross senses…..try and live the finer life. It will take you a little more closer to Uncle Universe.

898 : Midnight musings

I awoke today, with this strong desire to talk, to open up, to share.

(and probably hence all this blogging…..but its still not the same, this is impersonal  and vieled….behind the facade, if I might use that phrase….)

What did I want to talk about? Nothing in particular, but lots of “nothings”.

If I could wake up my spousey, she would have been more than eager to give me the patient ear…but that would not do it for me.

Unlike others, I look at spousey, and I see myself…let me explain. I believe, when two folks live together, their boundaries start blurring to a point, where spousey is you, and you are spousey…..If that is correct, you cannot be “talking to yourself”, you cannot be “sharing with yourself”.

On a related note, I suddenly remembered as I writing this, 3 people who used to be my pillars in my past life.
1. A dear buddy called Roy Paul, who stood by me like a rock during 97-98 – a period of mini crisis for me. He used to call me every night and helped me tip over the spiral. (I have been very out of touch with this guy now….unlike other lost friends, I don’t even reach out to him on his bday, because a few years ago, his father passed away on the same day….it kind of feels awkard to wish him on that day….I am not sure whether it works for him).
2. Shailesh who used to be my bulwark, pulling me back, balancing me through all my travails in life. Imagine all the “good parts of me” – really “all of them” in a human being, and now you add “ balance, wit, and “normal” to it” and you have Shailesh. We both loved to drive, both occasionally write, both enjoy cooking, both like photography, both are “thinkers” – but then he is balanced and very much in the curve :-)
3. My brother. 12 years ago, I would have never imagined living this life without him around…..and here I am today :-)

The night is ageing. An unfinished conversation ambles along :-)

897 : Blogging is a distraction

I woke up at mid-night with a fairly sordid ache. 3 hours later, am much the better. Maybe, blogging is my poison as well.

On a related but yet digressive note….

I actually write very well at night (by my own standards, that is). My “word smoothies” flow out so much more easily in the silence and incongruity of the night. (Actually, its not silent, I have been playing “Romeo and Juliet” by Dire Straits on infinite repeat for the past 2 hours.)

So why do I write, or how do I decide what to write?

I don’t really know. I really don’t :-)

(Quote from Good Will Hunting

Will: Beethoven, okay. He looked at a piano, and it just made sense to him. He could just play.
Skylar: So what are you saying? You play the piano?
Will: No, not a lick. I mean, I look at a piano, I see a bunch of keys, three pedals, and a box of wood. But Beethoven, Mozart, they saw it, they could just play. I couldn’t paint you a picture, I probably cant hit the ball out of Fenway, and I cant play the piano.
Skylar: But you can do my o-chem paper in under an hour.
Will: Right. Well, I mean when it came to stuff like that... I could always just play.


896 : Sim Ball (guffaw)

My previous post 895 on symbols, was post a conversation I had with a dearie yesterday, a talk we had post the dearie having lost something which was classified  as “important”.

Its so easy for me to preach, “ finally what's lost is a “symbol”, ignore the trifles”. Its very easy for me to make light of what could essentially be a very large personal loss.

What I wanted to clarify is, I hope I never end up reducing “grief”, as “tears shed on a meaningless symbol”, “grief” is intensely personal and usually very important.

Symbols are (also) very important, as important as we want to make them out to be, and if they are important enough for us to grieve for their loss, then we most definitely must (and be allowed to).

(From Jesus He Loves Me, by Genesis

Won’t find me practicing what I am preaching,
Won’t find me making no sacrifice
But I can get you a pocket full of miracles,
If you promise to be good, try to be nice,
God will take good care of you,
Just do as I say, don't do as I do

A LOUD GUFFAW :-) The joke is on me )

895 : Symbol I bow to thee !!

(One of my Diwali resolutions is to stop verbally ranting  (diarrhea) and drawing room preaching….(which I think I have stuck really well to, save a few occasional slips :-))

I made no such resolution on this blog and writing. I will continue to pompously preach out here… know what's coming right :-) a very “righteous” post….I suggest you switch off, unless you like me in that mood.

Coming back to the post…..)

One of my famous grouses in life, is how often and how easily we end up confusing “symbols” for “life”….and when I say “we”, I include “me”. I end up doing that far too often as well.

WTF is a symbol? A “symbol” is an abstraction for something underlying, something you desire. Example, you might want “a million dollars” – now that's a symbol. When you drill into any sensible brain, that “symbol” will have an underlying driver – such as “I want to be buy a Hudson facing apartment at Battery Park” or “I want to buy the F430 Scuderia”.

Get the drift…… $400 is the “Symbol”. Montblanc Starwalker is the “real life”.  If we were to generalize the above examples (only the 2 we discussed) “wealth is a symbol, what we buy with it is life”.

For a lot of us (INCLUDING ME), sometimes we so busy chasing symbols, that we have either forgotten what was the “life” behind it, or in the first (worst) place, we never had a “life” behind it at all.

So me wanting to marry and have kids are “symbols”; the fun, the joy and the overall experience of of it, belong to the “life” part of it.  If I only chase the symbol, I shall never really enjoy the “life” bit of it. I will always find the whole process hollow, because I married and had kids, without actually knowing why I did it….my “drivers” simply did not exist. (This must appear to be a super ironic para coming from me :-))

Is it really that simple, or am I oversimplifying it? I think its actually that plain. Its just that our complex lives sometimes don't allow us the leisure to seek the underlyings to the symbols, more so, question the symbols.

Just because all the others want a house by “battery park” we assume that shall make us “happier” as well. We forget, that a lot of the “others” are also (possibly) chasing that symbol, without understanding what it really means.

Hope you have got the drift….Its good to always use reductionism and come down to the underlyings, for each and every drive in our lives. The sooner we do that, the farther we shall be from the “symbols”.

(Excerpts from Amused to death, by Roger Waters….as brilliant as Floydian can get

Is absolute zero cold enough
And out in the valley warm and clean
The little ones sit by their TV screens
No thoughts to think
No tears to cry
All sucked dry
Down to the very last breath
Bartender what is wrong with me
Why am I so out of breath
The captain said excuse me ma'am
This species has amused itself to death


We watched the tragedy unfold
We did as we were told
We bought and sold
It was the greatest show on earth
But then it was over
We ohhed and aahed
We drove our racing cars
We ate our last few jars of caviar
And somewhere out there in the stars
A keen-eyed look-out
Spied a flickering light
Our last hurrah
And when they found our shadows
Grouped around the TV sets
They ran down every lead
They repeated every test
They checked out all the data on their lists
And then the alien anthropologists
Admitted they were still perplexed
But on eliminating every other reason
For our sad demise
They logged the only explanation left
This species has amused itself to death
No tears to cry no feelings left
This species has amused itself to death

894 : Sit by Vikram Seth (from all you who sleep tonight)

Sit, drink your coffee here; your work can wait awhile.
You are twenty-six, and still have some of life ahead.
No need for wit; just talk vacuities, and I’ll
Reciprocate in kind, or laugh at you instead.

The world is too opaque; distressing and profound,
The twenty minutes’ rendezvous will make my day.
To sit here in the sun, with grackles all around.
Staring with beady eyes, and you two feet away.

(This could easily have been my poem on a Sunday morning, or a Friday evening, or a everyday lazy morning. I feel strongly that the cup of “poison” (be it wine, coffee, chai or a smoke) is more than just that, its a process by which two people can connect over meaningless nothings. The more faster our lives become, the more we keep losing this ritual. Can we please save it for me? (Seriously) It means a lot to me. I believe, this is all that I shall carry to my grave. The rest will (g)race and pass past me in those final moments :-))

893 : Distract your own mind, a la Trojan !!

Deepesh (Bhandari) and I were talking about migraine.

Hell why? Lets say, we find such topics as interesting as the rest of you find cricket. (That tells you right that we are very different and interesting :-))

Jokes apart, we did get talking about how “distraction” is a big aspect of getting out of an “incident”.

Tell me about it, when a few days ago, I was telling others about how mulled wine solved my ache, most people said, “alcohol solving your ache….you must be getting it all wrong…the booze is impacting your “head” :-)) ”.

I can’t somehow seem to convince people, that wine always brings out the worst and the best in me, but at the end of the day, makes me more alive…..especially if I am sharing it with a few loved ones, then it gets added to my “poison” list. I can guzzle bottles of it, fall in love with life, and schmoozle. (did we not start this thread with some “migraine” in mind???… point is, wine and friends is a heady alluring combo, makes me forget the “dry topics”, just like it did now :-)).

892 : Wanking to talk….(guffaw!!)

Very sleepy, just woke up, its a little past midnight. So read this post in the context of my grogginess :-)

Wanted to title a post called “wanting to talk” or something to that effect, by mistake I typed “wanking to talk”.

I could not but marvel at the freudian slip…..”t” and “k” are far away on the keyboard, and yet I made such an ironic mistake.

How? Why? Whatever….the net result made me smile out aloud at midnight. Good way to start out a day :-) (wanking? hell, no….I meant, the “smiling” bit).

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

891 : NPR 3 minute story - “The nurse left work at 5 o’clock”

Read about NPR running such a story contest. Found it very intriguing.

On further investigation, it turns out you have to write  a story, starting with the sentence “The nurse left work at 5 o’clock”,  that can be read in 3 minutes. That was still not good enough a brief for me. So I copied a “runner up” story  onto Word, did a quick word count, came to 497 words.

I told myself a story around this had to be less than 500 words, and then got cracking. 2 hours today evening, and this is the output.

Do let me know what you think of it? Very interested to debate on it… must admit, this was tough to write.

( :- ( Hell no, the contest is over, so I can’t participate now, but I still enjoyed writing it.)

The nurse left work at 5 o’clock. Anne would usually be back home by then to take care of her ailing comatose mother, called “Ma” by one and all. By convention, the nurse, did not necessarily have to wait until Anne came back, though she usually always did.

At 3pm, today, a call from her employing agency, had cursorily informed, that today would be her last day at Anne’s house. Starting tomorrow, she needed to report to a new place to work with a “new client”.

For 5 long years, she had steadily nursed and nurtured Ma, in the process knowing and adopting her frailty. For her, to willingly have receded into the depths of another’s vulnerability and let that susceptibility perennially dance lamely around your thumb, was both,  a very humbling and an immensely fulfilling experience.

Ma  was forever confined to be on the fringes of “the end”, but never really there yet, living in a distant nether land between speech and silence, between touch and inert, between warm and cold….always near, yet always appearing afar.

Today, as she walked out of the door for one last time, it distinctly occurred to her that this was it, she would never again get to see Ma. This was a full-stop just as similar as Ma’s yet-to-happen end…..and yet, between that cessation and she having to move to a new job….in both cases the net result was exactly the same. A further thought crossed her mind, that it did not really matter who amongst them ended up “winding-up” today, the conclusion would still remain absolutely the very same.

At 5pm, today, she did not want to wait for Anne to return, she did not want to have one long last look at Ma, she did not want to kiss her goodbye… she moved out of the door, past the stairway, passing the lobby, merging into the street…she continued walking, not stopping, not pausing, never once turning back.

On the street, she walked with her eyes downcast, the steady stream of humanity comforting her, their gross anonymity and complete inability to peek into her personal grief, providing for an ideal air cushion. After a few minutes, she did reach a busy intersection, which had a circle and statue at the center of it. She walked across the street onto the intersection, which was bereft of any people, and then she stopped.

Turning around, raising her eyes, she did a panoramic scan. Far and wide, all she saw were people, apparently oblivious, and yet, steadily and continuously moving towards a imminent frosty death, just like Ma and her.

(My story is approx 425 words)

Monday, November 09, 2009

890 : A naked secret

Sweets yesterday made a private observation (to me) about my limited, if not completely absent social skills….. during a particular social setting, which we were part of yesterday.

That conclusion, at least the way I have put it in the sentence above is not a secret at all, and am happy to publish it on to the world……I am “socially disadvantaged” :-) (that does not sound right at all, very sad use of English :-)).

Its just that an average person, will never, if ever, know  at what point during the day am I my natural self, and when at a point, my disadvantaged self is trying to appear “normal”.

What was slightly freaky (and highly amusing) is the way she cleanly saw through the game, when I did not expect “anyone” to see through it….. almost slicing like a knife through a light cheese-cake,  right through the “impenetrable” facade, into the depths of bare naked soul.

That revelation (of her observation) could have either made me feel vulnerable (in a helpless vitiated sort of way), or child-like (in a cared for, admonished-by-mom sort of way). Coming from sweets, it was indisputably the latter :-)


I earlier used to believe that, a relationship “has arrived”, when you begin “seeing through each other’s games”……In recent years have extended that to include, “seeing through and being accepting, being comfortable with the other’s games.” . By that yardstick, sweets, I think, we have definitely begun to arrive (at least in some parts). I see (and am comfortable with)  some games too, will save that for a post wine discussion :-)

889 : Blink and you have missed a blinding moment

That’s one of the tiny attitude problems with Uncle Universe, he penalizes you for (even just) blinking :-)

Saturday, November 07, 2009

888 : A lot of money is…..


What is this?

“A lot of money.” :-)

Was the “cash” part of the payment, I received for the few little worldly trifles that I have gotten “someone”  in the recent past.

So, what can I buy with “a lot of money”?

I don’t really want to know. For me, this goes straight into a little column in my wallet, where my mom told me I should keep at least one coin. Till now, I kept a dime there….well from now on, that goes out, and this goes in.


Lets say, its good to carry your precious wealth around. That way you always know its safe, and you can sleep sound and well.


It will also constantly help as a healthy reminder, that even in our almost mercenary world, sometimes, if only “sometimes”, albeit yet…….. a “little here” can also mean the “whole there”.

887 : Back to the present

You and I animatedly talking,  “Lets bury the hatchet, that's all in the poignant past
We could have done very little to have avoided it, the dancing dice were already cast”

In my head, a tiny skeptic thought goes round and around, “Do we really believe?
That the past  will not will never (again) merge into the present, as we continue to live”

886 : Pendulum by Vikram Seth (from “all you who sleep tonight”

The nervous mother shouted ceaselessly,
At her roped children swinging from the tree
Remembers with a start that once she was young
And terrified her mother as she swung.

I am sure every son of a child might relate to this pendulum. Then,  how do I ?

(In the background Local Hero Wild Theme by Dire Straits is playing, it adds to the mood.)

885 : Little Miss Can’t Be Wrong….

Yesterday, my niece supposedly wanted to desperately meet me, before her bedtime started. (The “supposed” here is a figurative way of speaking, and does not mean that I don’t trust the veracity of the source :-))

Like a usual late latif, I reached (her/my?) home post her “sleep start hour”, and by then her bed time rituals were already half way round….in essence we “missed” each other…quite literally and figuratively.

If I can somehow make you understand the underlying message, the very same one which (I think) the universe is trying to (desperately) give me….you will have absolutely no difficulty in living the monstrously massive conflict that occupies 90% of my current cerebral activity (the remaining 10% is used by my medulla oblongata :-))

The universe seems to be doing its fair bit….the trouble is, its leaving the difficult parts of the puzzle upto interpretation.

884 : Something to be mulled over….

Yesterday was a terrible day in terms of health. Had a pounding headache all through the day, and had to attend this “cannot afford to miss” meeting at office. Finally at 915pm landed at my sissy’s house for a meal.

She made some lovely “mulled wine” for me. Her homegrown recipe included mulling spices (the best from WholeFoods :-))), sweet vermouth, honey and dry red wine.

Wine is my weakness, but usually its the dry red type. Yesterday, this sweet concoction was my poison. Sitting with buddy and her, talking late through the  midnight with about 500 ml of mulled wine down my belly, seemed to drive away my mind from the headache.

I only stopped at 500, because I had to drive back, else I really would not have stopped. It might sound counter-intuitive (alcohol with headache….), but this was exactly what the doctor ordered.

Health is just a state of mind. Letting near ones nourish and nurture your soul and some fantastically concocted wine, seemed like the perfect anti-dote for the terrible health of my mind.

I should definitely do this more often. Thank you, sweets :-) an experience to cherish.

883 : Not Expecting…

The only reason I am sure I am not pregnant, or something equally “funny”  is not happening to my body, is because of my ( fairly confirmed) “sex status”.

Inpite of my “confirmed” fact, I am hard pressed to explain my 3am craving for Maggi and a cup of strong chai…..esp. when I have just plonked down at 130am tired and sleepy as a sloth.

Seriously, the craving was so strong, I had to wake up from my slumber, cook for myself. Eat, and by then, my eyes no longer want to be in a steady state, they wanted to just go wink…..wink….wink…wink….

Friday, November 06, 2009

882 : Stop Imitating life !!

This sugarcane
This lemonade
This hurricane, I'm not afraid.
C'mon, c'mon no one can see you cry.

This lightning storm
This tidal wave
This avalanche, I'm not afraid.
C'mon, c'mon no one can see me cry.

That sugar cane that tasted good.
That's who you are, that's what you could.
C'mon, c'mon on no one can see you cry.

( – Imitation of life, REM)

881 : Stuck in town

Car is stuck amidst another 1000 others. GPS has stopped working because the smoke fog around, blocks line of sight.

Unsure of how to get out of this mess, you get out of the car, look up at the sky, both in faith and with hope to find the pole star.

880 : Spirit, matter and the lost map

I am totally down today in terms of matter, my body is creaking, croaking and cranky today.

My spirit though is soaring. I have this irresistible temptation to take the car out and drive through to nowhere in particular. A long drive leading upto another destination, one which has no bearing on the map, but very different from where I am today, a tangle and twist in my own destiny…..a drive to let my spirit soak in the universe.

The last temptation?

(I look at the world and I notice it's turning
While my guitar gently weeps
With every mistake we must surely be learning
Still my guitar gently weeps

- While my guitar gently weeps, Beatles)

Thursday, November 05, 2009

879 : Cloaky Koan tugging at my tonsil

If you did not stop something from happening, did you (then) let it happen?


878 : Life’s little lessons….school did not help, neither did the books!!

Yesterday, my sis ordered 3 sandwiches and I needed to pay for those, and inadvertently, by an act of accident, I paid for only 2.
The guy who serves the sandwiches, did not realize the goof up, and with human goodness handed over the 3 we ordered to us.

Once at the table, I realized the mistake. Sissy got to realize it as well. She implored me to go and pay up for the “free lunch”. I just ignored that request, and gave some vague rationalization, that it wont even matter to the sandwich house, whether I paid or not, finally it was just “one sandwich”.

She did not relent, she picked her purse and began walking towards the payment counter. I still tried to discourage her, and then eventually gave up. By the time she returned, she had paid for it, settled it with the server as well.

We did not talk about it.

But, I learnt something important (hell, no, not Moses’ 8th commandment )……dharma is not learnt from books or sunday school or moral science, or even with a pillar of an ethic.

Dharma just is. Dharma is you. Souped up books, fake posturing and mouthing poetry don’t (even remotely)  make up for the utter lack of it :-)

Time to start to un-learn life.

877 : Before the night is over

This lovely night is coming to an end, another bright morning is coming my way. The show must go on, “Good morning, and in case I don't see ya, good afternoon, good evening, and good night!”

876 : Unfinished business

My brother is the Buddhist, I will aspire to, but never ever be(judgment delivered). I am actually an atheist, a Buddhist without beliefs, a raft without a rudder, (stop the metaphors please !!….yada yada yada !!)

I was having a conversation (with him) around “unfinished business” – any item in your agenda which you feel has to happen to in a discrete timezone.

On a larger canvas, it typically refers to something you want to accomplish before you die. I was trying to tell him, that it might be necessary to have no outstanding “unfinished business” otherwise you can never be a Buddhist.


Because that tether will rein you back to the world of Maya. With my limited ability to influence, and even lesser energy to have a difficult conversation, I almost ended up not even making a dent in that transaction.

But I still believe I am absolutely apropos. Do you agree?

(“Proudest Monkey” by DMB playing the background)

When I walk, I walk so tall
Not bent all double over
Like all the other monkeys, I know of
But I still don’t know
If I’m so good or
If heavens the place to go or
If hell is where we were
If sinnings what we do
I know I am the smartest monkey
That I am aware of
Monkey see, monkey do. Monkey see, monkey do.

875 : Bingo !!

There are more fools in the world than there are people.
(- Heinrich Heine 1797-1856)

And thanks to the advent of the digital camera, there are now more photographers in the world than there are people.
(- G Blanc D’Avignon 1969 – )

(From the Nov issue of Better Photography)

Something similar at

874 : The Homer in me…

If you have seen the first few seasons of Simpsons, there are many times when someone is talking to Homer, and he has already switched off, all he is hearing in his head is “yada yada yada"…

I wont say more.

873 : Socrates who lived to tell

I am on my second cup of poison, larger than venti :-). Drinking “masala chai” by a brand called, something I shamelessly lynched from my airport lounge.

If this is poison, then I am happy to be condemned to be Socrates for eternity.

This night is getting more beautiful as it is wearing out. (to put it my fav expression, “awesome, fucking awesome” ;-))

(“Brothers in Arms” playing in the background and this horribly addictive vial of “slipping mickey” in my hand….why isn’t this my everyday life?)

“There are so many different worlds
So many different suns
And we have just one world
But we live in different ones

Now the sun’s gone to hell
And the moon’s riding high
Let me bid you farewell
Every man has to die”

872 : The pink side of life

Picture this, I am on a NY subway. Standing, leaning on the centre pole, the one which is almost in the middle of the car.

I see this dapper of a guy, well dressed (isn’t that what dapper meant???) and brown curly hair. Definite European (I hate to say this, but an average American has no sense of style).

He is now talking to his daughter in German (European confirmed…). Daughter is this petite little thing, perfectly perked up in dainty pink, complete with pink stockings, a golden fairy like shoe, and two tiny pony tails using orange ribbon.

Daughter and father enjoy an animated conversation in German + English. Father has a book teaching her to spell in English. They are spelling words like car, grape…and so on.

He removes the subway ticket and helps her spells T I C K E T too.

I am on the E line which has a electronic display of the next approaching station. Father tells daughter that the next station is 34th Street Penn. She is like “how did you know?” types. He points her to the electronic display right above the seating on the opposite side of where they are seated.

She immediately gets up and rushes closer to the other side, an attempt to gaze closely at the display.

The train is still moving, and she instinctively  lunges for my hand, actually my wrist, using it, as if it were some sort of supporter. She is unaware, unabashed.

Though I have been watching this whole scene intently with the eyes of a voyeur, the thorough spontaneity of this still shocks me…..almost as if, I am suddenly part of a movie scene, which I always thought was just a movie.

It amused me, that if this girl was any older than 5 (which is what probably she was), she would have never held onto any “stranger” she would have rather awkwardly fallen here and there…..even if she would have held my wrist, she would have quickly retracted, probably apologized and then moved onto holding the center bar….none of which actually happened in my story….she continued holding onto my wrist, until she was satisfied with the display and walked back to her dad.

Is growing up supposed to be a process of losing this innocence of the pink?

871 : So far away from me

I have an unbelievable version of “So Far Away From Me” by Dire Straits sung live at Sydney. Its acoustic and you can hear the whole crowd sing (and hum along) with Mark Knopfler, throughout the song.

Its truly a goose pimply experience….I promise you, if you already like the song, you will drool on it, on the other hand, if you dont, you will fall in love with the genius called Knopfler.

If you cannot lay your hands on this, let me know, if I am around, will share this with you :-)

(My recent resolution – if Knopfler ever comes back to India, even its Bihar, I am driving down to their concert).

870 : A colored state of mind (yellow, red, maybe…orange :-))

Is melancholy a state of mind? Of course it is.

Is that good? I don’t see anything wrong with it, especially if it does not drag you down in its whirlwind spiral.

What it lends you is a 5-prism (like a SLR), an almost inverted lens and filter to examine the life around you with a cloistered gaze. HowTF does that help?

It helps if you want to peel the world like an orange, layer by layer…(Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess, anyone??? the hyperlink could not have been more apt)….especially if you want to.

Actually, not just melancholy, and strong emotion does. Love, despise, anger…..its just that how much will you allow the emotion to possess you….or will you fight it like a Clockwork Orange? 

869 : My poison

At 2am in the morning, having a large (is that venti…starbucks, you have screwed my habits up) cup of chai, and listening to “Tunnel of Love” by Dire Straits. I must have heard that song at least 500 times before, but never enjoyed it as much as today.

In  my head, these songs remind me of myself from 15 years ago, all uncomplicated and happy…..primarily these are the songs I used to listen to all day then, all the time during college days and 24 hours at office (though we did not have mp3 players then, you tugged along heavy discmans around).

“Girl it looked so pretty to me, like it always did,
Like a spanish city to me, when we were kids….”

And on a day like today, I yearn for that muscled discman and the music of the 90s….of course, thats figurative, what I yearn more for, is that completely unbridled state of mind.

As I have said before, sometimes its perfectly fine to mourn for the living…..

“And I have been riding on a ghost train, where the cars they scream and slam
And I don’t know where I will be tonight, but I’ll always tell you where I am”

(Like I was telling spousey the other day, the only reason I understand some poetry is because of the music I heard in my formative years. I owe those times a little something which I can never square off. )

Tuesday, November 03, 2009

868 : All in one conversation !!

We spoke of a few things with melancholy (things we had almost surely forever lost), we spoke of the future with gusto and hope (picture a life which was seemed wafting into our way), we spoke of the becoming with joy and love (those little things which come and attach themselves to you), we spoke of "then and them" with nostalgia and a non-requited longing.......

Thats when it occurred to me, "nostalgia" is a strange but very necessary emotion. If not for it, how else would be grieve and mourn for the living?

867 : When two kids meet...

My brother and I had a blast, recently, making fun of all the things, like we used to in the past, e.g have sneers at the expense of - my parents for example. We racountered and idly whispered those tiny little "growing up"stories, which we seemed to have an infinite supply of, in our stashes.
I realised why the adage "Boys will be boys..." means. Good fun.

Monday, November 02, 2009

866 : Forbidden Tales

As we got talking, she marvelled at the tale, and she voiced, “Wow, such a lot happened, and you never ever got around to telling me this story. How did you manage to keep this to yourself for all of these donkey’s years? You must really be a safe shutter.”.
(a sidey joke, read “donkey’s years as donkey’s ears”….and the sentence might still make some sense!!)

I thought about it, and was (really) very tempted to sing, “Well, you now know (at least) one of the stories from my past. There are quite a few other stories, many of them did not (even really) happen, but, I still have a stash of them hidden, somewhere close, probably here. What about those, dear?”

865 : Et tu, Moron !! (cheating is…..)

Okay, I would never (ready my lips, N E V E R) ever offer a clarification on any my posts, especially if I did not want to, but today, only for today, I am breaking my rule.

A lot of folks, read my post 852, on cheating, and asked, some with genuine concern and care, others with the eyes and ears of a voyeur - "Is everything ok in marryland?".

Look my dearies, (both concerned types and gossipy types), if I ever "cheat" in marryland (and to me that is not entirely unthinkable.....what!!did someone fall of the chair again...holy cow!!), I am definitely not daft enough to put it on my blog, and secondly, my spousey would have to be the first to know.

Sounds idealistic...not really if you read it in order....1. I can cheat, that's a possibility 2. I will let the trusted party involved know as soon as I can.

Finally, for the record, "life in marryland" is as good as  fairyland, but there are a million other stories in my life where things are getting out of control, and I can easily fall into the temptation to cheat.

The post was related to one such conflict, completely and totally un-related to conjugal bliss. ( I can bet, a box of you reading this, by now, would be sweetly sighing and solemnly saying “Oh, buddy, then its ok. You almost gave me the creeps”…..and my point, why is cheating in marriage any worse than cheating at an exam, or at work, or at poetry…..why…. think about it….any dilution of values should be equally undesirably, especially if it impacts what you constitute as an important pillar in your life… an example, for me, marriage, poetry, my work, my friends….all constitute extremely important pillars)


Whew!! That really felt horrible. I hate clarifying. (Don’t ever ask a poet to explain his poem line by line, go only as far as conversing about the theme, that is, if you get the it…else even avoid that).

Swipe (wiping beads of my forehead!!)


(Added as an afterthought)
Don't hate me for sounding condescending in this post….its just that I really abhor ever having to explain, to backtrack (not just on my blog, but even in real life). So the process got the real worst out to me. All and sincere apologies (as you have seen so far, I rarely, if at all rude).

Sunday, November 01, 2009

864 : Hearing so much of Google Wave

Have requested an invite, lets see, if I get one. Till then, I can only read about those waves and hope to ride them someday soon.

863 : On borrowed time

Have been posting today, using the laptop of a friend. Its a brand new HP HDX 16. I have used over 20 laptops so far. This has to rank as one of the best (save a VAIO I was very fond of). Its got killer looks and outstanding build quality.
Its a different matter, that when and if, I actually buy a laptop of mine, its definitely going to having a half bitten apple on its lid.

862 : Hits of Pink Floyd, by Royal Philaharmonic Orchestra

I used to own this album (on a tape) in the early 90s), and then it used to be called "Orchestral Maneuvers". I have searched online, tried to buy it, but have never again lain my hand on that album.

Today I found, "Hits of Pink Floyd" by The Royal Philaharmonic Orchestra. (Sounded different, looked similar, had the same set of songs). Nowhere does mine say it was conducted by David Palmer....

Listened to "Hey You", and it sounded just the same, and just as magical. The album is a must have for every Pink Floyd fan. Its a fantastic piece of musical genius.
Its taken years, but it feels worth the wait !!

861 : The glass palace !!

I spent aeons of my glassblower breath, and constructed this palace....I gave this dream a life. They told me "bad idea"....if it were not, would we not at least see one kingdom of glass from the past...albiet a smothered relic.
Days have gone, hours have been spent, and now, as I look upon on this magnificient occurs to me, its not going to survive, "they were afterall, right"....
Its a merciless litany....looks like I will have to hammer it down with my own breath.

860 : We are like this only

I talk in Telugu, so do my children...I watch only south Indian movies, I hate McDies and other options....I listen to only Thyagaraja Krithis, my children dont celebrate haloween....and I live by the Hudson Bay.

859 : Music 55 : Delhi Destiny from 99

Delhi Destiny from 99, is a really well composed song. A very freaky melody, sung in a unsual voice by Raja Hassan.

Its an unusual choice for a theme song, but fits so damn well, with the movie, and the overall sense of where the story is going.

Go listen to it, if you can. Its a difficult to get song, though!!

I dont have it yet, but will eventually lay my hands on it.

Song : Delhi Destiny
Music : Shamir Tandon
Lyrics : Vaibhav Modi
Singers : Raja Hasan

Ba- Adab
Ba- Adab

Here Comes The Delhi Destiny
Marzi Awaara Dil Ki Aisi Thhi
Kucch Boriyat Aur Kucch Zaroorat Thhi
Peeccha Jo Kiya Pehli Sadak Ka Toh
Aa Pahunche Hum Yahan
Aa Pahunche Hum Yahan

Haq Se Chaurahon Pe Naam Likha
Raste Mein Ruk Ke Ailaan Kiya
Bade Naseebon Ka Sheher Hai Yeh
Jo Isski Kismaton Mein Hum Hain Likhe
Aaye Hain Baadshah
Aaye Hain Baadshah
Yahan Ke Naye Naye Baadshah

Ba- Adab
Ba- Mulahiza

Here Comes The Delhi Destiny
Kissi Se Poochha Na Naseehat Lee
Gussa Na Aaya Yeh Ganeemat Thhi
Varna Jo Bhi Aaya Koi Saamne Toh
Bakhsha Hai Humne Kahan
Jo Bhi Chaaha Farmaan Padha
Masti Mein Kaha Kabhi Takhliya
Gustakhiyon Ko Bhi Maaf Kiya
Dil Ko Jo Koi Bhala Sa Laga
Aaye Hain Baadshah
Aaye Hain Baadshah
Yahan Ke Naye Naye Baadshah

Ba- Adab
Ba- Mulahiza
Here Comes The Delhi Destiny
Ba- Adab
Ba- Mulahiza
Here Comes The Delhi Destiny

858 : 99 the movie

I saw 99, Cyrus Broacha, Kunal Khemu and Boman Irani.
A clean, decent movie, hilarious in bits, but never really boring. Imminently watchable. Was mentioning this to my brother, turns out , it was made by someone I happen to know.
That was slightly freaky.
I would go as far to recommend a watch, even worth probably a DVD buy.
Overall 8/10.
(BTW, the name comes from the fact, these two small time crooks (Kunal and Cyrus) are always almost there, but never there competely, stuck at 99, but never scoring a century. I thought thats a nice tongue in cheek name (and game)).

857 : Daily Show by Jon Stewart

Okay, before I start, must admit, I have always liked the Jon Stewart show, so in some sense I am biased.
Have been watching it, while in NY, almost daily...and it continues to be really funny. I love it, even as an alien, I could relate to the items being spoken about on the show.
Why can't we replicate this model in Bombay ( Shekhar Suman....!!)

856 : A life lived between the deep blue sky and the red earth, (apparently) an incomplete life !!

Have been linking up to quite a few friends (some very dear to me) and brethren out at NY.
Found it very strange, everyone seems to be in the hunt for something (Not that I am not, but...). When looked from afar, their lives would seem picture perfect, almost made to order...and yet, the little here, and extra there, seem apparently missing (and these are their feelings, not my assessment of "them").
Makes me wonder, when will this infinite little race end, and do we all know the goalpost? (I dont think I know it at least....just keep jumping from "problem" to "problem"....almost unreal...aka Mario Brothers!!)
"Kabhi Kissi Ko Mukammal Jahan Nahin Milta,
Kaheen Zameen, Kaheen Aasman, nahin milta"
(No one ever inherits a perfect life, (invariably) either a piece of their sky has gone missing, or the ground is slipping beneath their feet!!)

855 : Worlds, coins and twins

So, you still dont believe the world is like 2 face harvey ? (WTF are we talking about, read post 854).
At the same mall (Mall of America), at the food court, I saw 2 girls (must be around 9 years of age), and looked like twins (not identical, but almost there).
One of them was suffering from muscular dystrophy (looked like it) and the other looked perfectly normal.
They were definitely sisters, and were together, and of the same age. One of them, what the world would consider "perfectly normal" and the other "specially gifted".
Ironies run deep and wide, dont they?

Convinced, about the 2 face theory?

854 : The world is like a coin, has 2 sides

When I was at the "Mall of America", a young girl stood at the entrance of the mall (all alone), and wore a T-shirt saying "hugs for free". There is a "hugs for random strangers" movement and I though maybe she was part of that.
Turns out that she was 16, geeky (she definitely looked it), was not working for any movement, and this was just her way of making the world feel "good".
Young lady, take a bow...."joanna, give me hope, before the morning come!!".

Do you now believe, the world is like a coin?

853 : Dad, I will always "Remember two things"

We always make fun of dad, his favorite starting line is either "Remember two things" or "I want tell you two things"....his "two things" then invariably run into a multitude.
I just realised today, that DMB (Dave Matthews Band) one of my favorite bands, has an album called "Remember Two Things".
According to wikipedia, DMB, referred to "love your mother" and "leave only footprints" as the two things.
Sounds like good advice (and timing could not have been better!!)

852 : Cheating and the psychological backdrop !!

I came close to cheating (or did I...., whatever...., WTF). So?
In that sense, I am a quintessential, "Iyer" dharma is defined by myself, and its usually very non-negotiable....My redeeming factor is, I have little of dharma actually.
Excuse me, where is this post going? dear friend.
I have a dharma, and I almost cheated....get the joke?
No (well, neither do I...hee haw!!)

In the process, I did think hard, what would prompt me to ever cheat, or let a trust run bad. It usually would have to be, that that particular pillar (to which the trust is tied) is wasting. Its a pillar hollowed out by entropy, and "I" have given up that the pillar can ever the restored.

Two points to note, the "wasting pillar" and "my giving up" on it.
Neither are things I particularly enjoy as a process.....but once you get over "both", you might as well get laid (guffaw!!)

851 : It still "Sting"(s) !!

I am an alien, I am a legal alien, I am an Indian (am I?) in New York.....oh oh....(and the song continues!!)

850 : Here comes the sun (again), the sky is no longer blue !!

I have never been a sucker for emotions, really....usually the feedback is reverse, that I am stony and coldfaced. Yet, everytime, I paced past 745, I could not get myself to stare the blue facade.
(Even to me myself), it felt very unlike me. It felt odd, and slightly melancholic, as if, the wound had still not healed completely - which is unfortunately, not the case, we all have moved on, and yet....
Is this what a heart bruise is?

849 : Does Hudson make you feel older?

I was on the banks of the Hudson for the past few days. At least on 2 days, I spent time gazing into the distance, staring at the "Colgate" clock, and 70 Hudson (nostalgia?), with a large lazy cup of my favorite Starbucks chai lattle.
Usually, I cant stay still and nature am very nervous. Yet, in those moments, felt like stretching, and lolling around. I looked around, unfamiliar faces, all trying to capture the moment on their digicams. I could not, but marvel at the subtle irony, life throws at me.
I felt like taking the laptop down and sitting and writing. I also felt nostalgic, for a place and time, which had never actually (even) existed for me.
And in that moment, I also felt older.

848 : Travel and introspection

Invariably I end up travelling alone on business, which means obviously no family, but usually no colleagues either.
Its a brilliant time to recharge, connect back with myself. Invariably I end up thinking about life, career, family, relationships (and not necessarily in that order).
It always amazes me how much of a perspective can change, when you try and "unwind" your mind. Like the famous grouse, "the debates of today, (will) seem so far away and aloof 30 years from now."....its true, at least that works for me.
This time around though, my travel was different, I not only had the usual "aloneness", but I also had pressing personal challenges to resolve.
The debate rages in my mind, the fire dances in my belly. Who will win, who will lose?
Time will not only "tell", but also take a "toll".