Creatures

 

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,

as I make my way through the trees.

Stepping ever so lightly on the leaves below,

Lest anyone hears my breathing shallow.

Through the shrubs I stealthily move,

with a steady pace I tighten the noose,

the invisible rope with which I track the prey,

Tugging at which gently brings it close.

 

Driven with pure instinct I decide to pounce,

a quick rustle the prey hears and turns around.

Doesn't see me there and his fear starts to grow.

That it'll be soon over is such a terrible thing to know.

 

Satisfied I'm making my way to my bed,

But stories of the mysterious forest creatures

run through my head.

Who hasn't heard the tales of old?

from generation to generation they're greedily told,

the stories curdle your blood and chill your bones,

though always told in whispering tones.

 

They were always about someone distant you didn't know,

Suddenly it happened to someone you did know.

Young & careless, you still brush them away,

It's something that couldn't happen to you.

 

That while walking alone in the jungle

one must constantly be wary,

lest you encounter these abominations

once you're tired and weary.

Only when you venture far enough from your den,

where the jungle grows different in unfamiliar terrain.

Then you see them looking silently at you.

They look like you, only slightly askew.

 

Their bodies are slender with similar proportion,

fur is thin and bright, it's your perverted version.

As if meant to stand out in twilight, not hide,

everything about them seems unjustified.

Their eyes are a little too black,

face a little too long,

ears a little too sharp,

and their stench a little too strong.

 

My instincts twitch before my senses detect,

Today I've ventured from my den a little too far ahead,

After the kill proudly as I stood,

I see the monster in the woods.

Gently gazing at me from a distance, covered in pure white fur,

The eyes seemed like black Opals in snow,

Oh! someone for company I would prefer.

 

It opens its mouth, I hear it's garbled words,

Seems like a cacophony of a thousand birds.

It's trying hard to mimic your voice you feel,

But it's not your kind, a fact that 'it' can't conceal.

No matter how it tries, the creature is not true,

It is but a parody of you.

It has caught you now, you cannot go,

Oh! It is such a terrible thing to know.

A THOUGHT PROVKING DAY!

It was grey all around! I mean, the most perfect shade of grey anyone has ever laid their eyes on. It was perfect. By grey I do not mean that the heart of the observer was filled with so much sorrow, that his whole world had crashed and burned around him and that his heart had broken irreparably. No! I mean the overall view was so “heavy” and thought inducing that one could not help but think about the past. It somehow forced the reel of the tape to rewind with a pencil and forced you to live through your most thought proving moments. Your Top 10 Moments! 

The view from the sixth floor of the apartment building at four o clock that evening was indeed thought provoking. The rain had slowed down into a gentle shower, silent but persistent, like a very efficient employee letting his actions, rather than words, do the talking. Approximately 1.5 Kms towards the North West of the apartment building, the massive ‘Vidyasagar Setu’ across the Hooghly river had come back into view after the opaque rain curtain had slid back up into the clouds, with the iconic ‘Welcome’ sign on top of the bridge, still silhouetted but legible. The wisps of clouds immediately above the area streaking across the near-distance sky seemingly in a hurry to get home as though they too had been delayed by the preceding thunderstorm, not very unlike the vehicles that could now be seen on top of the bridge. 

The whole ground around the building, across the perimeter road, was saturated with standing water, not muddy and turbid, but brilliant reflective water hiding in plain sight between the perfect carpet grass. It’s presence only seen in places where the grass cover was thin and which were still being peppered with rain. The well pruned grass, which seemed disciplined in its bearing, was green, shiny and full of life. The whole area beyond the grassy patch was encircled with an area of thick, full trees. No half measures there. The trees, seemed old, quite old, and seemed as if they had made friends with the grass, which had now creeped and climbed it’s way on top of them to have a better view from ‘up there’. God knows how many ants, spiders and snakes hid behind those thick creepers, as though they were the dirty little secrets that any true and long friendship has. These secrets are generally well hidden from the world and only shared among each other when a bottle of scotch is opened, as aromatic and intoxicating as this afternoon’s rain. The tree cover seemed endless. It spread till the bridge and beyond with a different endless array of black water tanks, damp moss-covered walls of apartments, dark windows, high rise buildings, tin & plastic roofs of sheds of various solid colors, old white colonial era watchtowers and overhead tanks. 

If not for the heavy gloom that only a four o'clock thunderstorm and streetlights can bring to a city, one might have thought that this is a nice little part of the world to live in. Not this time, not today. On the other side of the apartment, down below, an old amma was carefully wading across the grass, across the remnants of a disused concrete badminton court, of which dirty blue paint had started to peel away, towards a mango tree, to collect the mangoes that were strewn about underneath, probably for chutney later. A partially constructed building whose foundation had just been laid stood drowned in muddy water along with heaps of fly-ash bricks, sand and aggregate, with its naked shutter-less iron rods sticking out of the water like sunken ships with their sails torn. 

The peculiarity about sudden late-afternoon thunderstorms is that it signals the end of the day quite early and abruptly, not giving the living beings enough chance to properly close out their day, which is generally at about six o clock. Therefore, in a sense, it does not give an appropriate closure to someone towards his day, the day that he had so carefully planned at the start. The day ends abruptly and quite suddenly, like the untimely death of a loved one. One is cold, wet and left stranded wherever he is at that moment, alone in his thoughts about what the day might have been. The colors of the sky are no longer seen, the birds go missing, the unnatural look of vehicle headlights, streetlamps, house lights all at a time seem very out of place and makes one wonder if he has suddenly been transported to a very different world that he can no longer recognize. Physically and superficially the world still looks the same, but the emotional connection, the warmth is suddenly lost. Quite like two lovers, together for years and then suddenly one falling out of love with the other. 

Since the fifth afternoon thunderstorm of the week had died down into a steady rain, distant ambulances could now constantly be heard on the two main roads which were towards West and South east of the building. As the sky grew darker still with threat of more strong winds and rain, their Blue and white lights could also be seen streaking silently across the bridge, certainly carrying someone’s loved one for his yet another struggle of the day, this time at the hospital. 

The weather truly was Melancholy!

In the mind of a Writer

Bent over a book, cigarette on his lips,

a dull black light glows above,

slow swirling smoke forming overhead,

a pen moves swiftly in his hand.

His every stroke, as sharp as sword,

in every thought a revolution lies,

His every line is a drop of gold,

in every verse the humanity dies.

His mind is like a beast of burden,

His eyes have stopped to blink,

His gaze can pierce through a mask,

or so he likes to think!

Every so often he closes his eyes,

for an idea's conception or it's sad demise,

hunting for thoughts within his boundless soul,

to produce that which the world has never seen before.

He listens to Zepp, Sabbath, Lemmy and Floyd,

even reads Hemingway, Tolstoy and Freud,

Dissecting every line they sung

or every prose so beautifully strung,

in search for something to match his mood,

willing to forgo his drink and food.

Tormenting his mind in search for thoughts

and baring his soul in search for words,

Imagining the most convenient way,

for the vital subject he must convey.

At last his thoughts are vomited out,

in blue, black, red or grey,

through the paper they look up and shout,

A final draft so carefully written,

which shines among the drafts torn and stewn about.

Another work joins the rest,

as the writer sits back at ease,

where does this piece stand he thinks,

Is this what he could do best?

At the end it is not for himself,

he thinks his work can inspire the world,

He let's it out into the web,

hoping the world to do the rest.

But morons are many, he knows, thoughtful few,

for this piece will be discarded too.

Somewhere in the heart of the Valley

Covered in White, Yellow & Purple
and every possible hue,
Lies stretched before my eyes
a living, breathing paradise,
To some old devil someone owed a due,
turning every eye red and every skin blue.

Cloudy eyes hide the abyss of pain
as the wise old men calmly explain,
A whole generation was lost they say,
when a podium given to foxes had their way,
and the lovable fool of the mohalla went away.

Impact of every stone is a dent in a bone
Squeeze of every trigger was once somebody's treasure,
The bright flash and the smell of gunpowder
with every chanted slogan the ensuing silence grows louder.

Somewhere in the heart of the valley
Where the bloddy river flows uncheked
providing life to every cell, cleansing it in return,
breaking the banks ever so often,
healing every wound and burn,
Washing away saint and sinner alike
bodies washed ashore at every turn.

Somewhere in the heart of the valley
Where the chaos showers from above
washing away the slime and muck,
blowing away the sting from every cut
These showers cause the crimson river to swell
hearts to melt and minds to dwell,
A land of contradiction, land of harmony,
a place where hope lives and dies
Somewhere in the heart of the valley where every heart lies.

Journey to Utopistan!

     


       The first light at 0445 hrs started us off towards Rohtang. Pretty soon we caught up with the teaming traffic and started snaking upwards. All the treks I had been to, all the vacations I had taken to far off places, all the sights I had seen (save for one) could not prepare me for what the nature was about to unveil before me.

      The bare uneven and rocky vertical mountain range, alternating constantly to my left and right with every turn, was fully awash with the morning light. The lower slopes had a grassy albeit boulder studded surface. These grassy slopes with tall pine trees had spread themselves unevenly throughout its side wherever they could find a flat enough surface. This physics vs nature matchup looked as though it had time as the referee, one who had a slight soft corner for nature and was allowing it to silently win. On the lower slopes there was one, just one, palatial size house in ruins. Someone with a lot of money must've had a great idea of building his home in a paradise of a place but soon realized his folly when boulders from the mountain rained down on him. It was nature's way of saying he was not welcome there any more. And in places high above streams of white mist were seen which had a long conical shape but then disappeared midair. On closer examination they were found to be mini waterfalls.

      Ahead of me the sun had painted one half of the yet another mammoth mountain side golden, with bare granite areas all over it shining like small diamonds. The other half still in the shadows was made darker still due to the contrast. The mountains had clouds safely under their wings as if they were their secret masters and the clouds returned the favour by trying their best to hide how high the mountains really were. In places where the clouds did cross the top, it looked as if there were pillows of steam coming off the mountain where somewhere within its heart giant machines operated.

      In the vast stillness of the mountain a small, almost indiscernible but continuous, movement could be seen. Huge trucks, Army convoys, big SUVs were nothing more than a tiny spec on this vast canvass. With this as a brief introduction we began our trip proper towards the martian landscape of Eastern Ladakh.

The Final Nightmare

She glided down suddenly out of the deep nothingness. Using the vast labyrinth of my emotions as props to freeze me in my sleep. One part of my mind realized it was too good to be true while the other was busy being scared stiff. The angel of death had reappeared.

I saw myself climbing an old apartment block of some long forgotten utopian world. It was my first time there but I knew where I was heading to. I didn’t know what I’m going to find but I knew it would surface soon enough. Then I saw her, the object of my subconscious, the actuator of all my emotions, sitting casually behind an open door, on a carpet in a barely furnitured house. Both her legs folded behind her on one side and resting her body on one hand while the other was on her thighs. She sat there with another man lying a few feet away, resting on one side of his body, facing her and his bare back towards me. They sat there motionless, not speaking, as if made of fine china. Her expressions were all too familiar. Then she saw me.

I always knew somewhere deep below in the ocean of my subconscious lurked a monster. I knew it was there hence preferred the vastness of the conscious  world above the still surface. I would occasionally take a dip but would come out fast, not giving it the scent of my blood. However I never dried myself. I loved the feel of the wetness of my subconscious in the cool air above and let it dry it out naturally. She was in my thoughts last night, more than usual, before I went to bed. It felt so good that this time I inadvertently stayed too far into the deep end not leaving enough time to come out.

As I saw her looking at me, I knew the monster which had been hiding for a long time had surfaced. It dragged me down effortlessly; I did not try to escape. I went down so fast that the light above me disappeared as quickly as turning off a bulb. She slowly got up and in an instant appeared just inches from me. I didn’t remember what she was wearing. It was just her face, her pretty face, clouding everything, my thoughts, my movements, my every cell. Seeing her stand so close to me again sent icy buckets of sweat down my spine. I suddenly felt my lungs sag inside my chest, my knees began to melt and my body began to crumble. I let out a scream as I fell straight down to the floor clutching my chest panting for a wisp of air to fill my deflated lungs. She just stood there over me, not talking, just looking at me with nonchalant eyes. It’s seeing that face and those eyes that I began to experience pure fear.

As I lay down convulsing like a snake all I could see was the monster’s face. Those eyes, not pretty anymore but dark bottomless pits. Her hair was like the web of a thousand spiders. Her precise nose, a vulture’s beak, her perfect skin seemed like white handcrafted plastic but her lips still seemed like rose petals, inviting me and her face, well…., my monster finally had a face.

As I lay writhing on the floor like a pathetic animal, I slowly began to loose consciousness, and as I did, I began to wake up. The deeper I went the more my senses began to stir. As I felt loosing the feel of the hard ground I started to feel the softness of my bed. As I began to loose touch of my dream I started gaining control of my muscles and started moving my limbs hungrily feeding on the feel of my soft pillow and quilt. But her face still held the final strands refusing to let me fully let go of my worst nightmare in years.

I finally heard a soft “What’s wrong daddy?” as I felt a hand on my chest. I could feel concern through the quivering fingers. I could feel heat spreading though my veins like a chain reaction. My little girl’s voice hit the final nail as it tore me away from her. Her face finally began to dissolve into the dark mist and, as I slowly opened my eyes, gradually took the shape of my daughter. I screamed and screamed. The monster was out.

The Tree

In the middle of the rainforest,
Stands a lone tree, proud and tall,
With naked branched reaching up,
waiting to be seen by all.

As if asking for forgiveness
from the thunder god,
For a long lost sin that
the world easily forgot.

As it proudly remembers the days of old,
Those mighty fires and biting cold,
Still in his heart, hiding the nests and burrows,
While the distant cousins were cut and sold.

Now having all it's greatness stripped,
The leaves, the bark, the fruits
and flowers, that it no longer missed,
It grew its arms
Still eager to touch the sky,
It tries to touch the untouchable,
It cries an inaudible cry

Until a day a swallow around it flies,
In gentle circles it glides,
Perches on a branch and begins to build,
Blade by blade and twig by twig.
It's on its branches and within its roots
Below the leaves and under its shoots,
The tree soon comes to realize,
Therein hides the true meaning of life.

The Zephyr

The sun woke me up with a brotherly hug,

Birds seemed to chatter more,

The wind had a leisurely stroll,

Hand in hand with the pine and spruce.

I think I should speak now.

They all quietly whispered to me,

"Be quiet now, enjoy the moment!"

I whispered back, "Why?".

Taking their own sweet time,

I was again told, "Be still", I listened.

The Lilies nodded as if in unison,

To the sweet fragrances of cherries and lime.

The shadow of the poplars,

The softness of tall grass,

A distant hum of single seater's propellers,

Just yonder the orchard of apples and pears,

They all gave a hint, but were not quite ready to share.

The sweet guitars of marooned

floated effortlessly in the air,

I listened, I stared,

To the marvel sitting next to me,

with the breeze playing with her hair.

Her eyes were closed with a smile curving her lips,

I looked around silently,

They seemed to be telling her something more,

Something they always held from me,

Was it the secret to bliss?

or it was her they, too, wanted to kiss.

I listened quietly, as I turned green,

Putting an arm around her, I started to lean,

I was held back gently by the wind,

As it finally told 'the secret' in my ear,

"You are but her guest here, and this is all for her."

Rage

When 'everything' isn't good enough,
And silent flows the rage,
Embers continue to smolder,
Though the inferno came of age.
This rage, both vague and conspicuous,
benevolent and mean,
unselfish and self seeking,
This rage is not hate,
It stems from your intense yearning.
As I sit gazing out the window,
Hoping to never see you again,
The rage is what tells me this elixir is the plague,
Hence i'm writing this, after it's too late,
When 'everything' isn't good enough,
then silent flows the rage....

दोस्त (Hindi)

ऐसा एक दोस्त है मेरा,

शर्माता हुआ है जिसका चेहरा,

कभी तो वो मुझसे दूर है भगता,

कभी भीड़ में भी बंद कर देता मेरा दायरा,

ऐसा एक दोस्त है मेरा .....

कभी पास बैठा कर बाप जैसे समझाता,

कभी माँ की तरह सर पे हाथ फिराता,

कभी बहन की तरह गुस्से से चिल्लाता,

तो कभी भूखे भेड़िये की तरह है कटता

ऐसा एक दोस्त है मेरा .....

कभी बिन कहे ही आ जाता,

तो कभी रूठ के पास ना आता,

कभी लता अपने साथ मेरी कहानियों का पिटारा,

तो कभी खाली हाथ ही आ जाता,

ऐसा एक दोस्त है मेरा .....

मैं ना जानू कहाँ है वो जाता,

पर हमेशा लौट के मेरे पास ही आता,

हर बार सुनाता है मुझे मेरी ही कहानियाँ,

आँखों में आंसू ला कर कुछ सबक सिखा जाता,

ऐसा एक दोस्त है मेरा .....

वो ना तो है कोई इंसान, न रूह, न जानवर,

वो है घनघोर अंधेरे में एक धुआँ ...

जो  रेहता मेरे ही अन्दर,

उसकी ना तो है कोई जवानी, ना है बचपन,

वो है मेरा दोस्त 'अकेलापन'!!!

Melancholia

Welcome to Melancholia,
where the skies are ever grey,
an enchanting place where the shrubs grow wild,
a place where wind cries perpetual dismay.

Feel your heart sink down,
as the night and day become one,
and see the souls of your past float around the moon and sun,
"Don't come in with a heavy heart", reads a warning,
for you may have been forgiven, but respites are none.

We know you are two people,
remember all the things you wanted to do and say,
also remember how,
as one pushed you in, the other pulled you away,
Welcome to Melancholia,
where the skies are ever grey.

"You knew you would end up here, then why'd you do it?"
whispers her voice as she looks you in your eye,
and you see that familiar smile fade away,
Your tears don't stop however hard you try,

"I knew that too and It's never going to get any better,
You'll always be with me,
and this is the only place we can ever be together"


Welcome to Melancholia! we say,
where the skies are ever grey!
a magical place to smother your soul!
a place where wind cries perpetual dismay!

A Funny Song About a Funny Man

The joker silently stands still in the rain,

drenched from head to toe,

looking around for someone....

the paint running loose, he wipes his face,

Up in the far east, dawn nears,

He's happy, no one's around...

how can anyone see him like this,

He puts a grin back on, before he's found

The joker smiles in the rain, he tried very hard today....

the audience was receptive, lights good....

there was a lot of self-humor involved

in the middle of the stage he stood....

The show was a success...again....

he had the audience in splits....

while they were wiping tears from their eyes....

to backstage quietly he slipped....

Back there he was alone, no one by his side....

he didn't know what to do next

no one one to talk to....

no one to confide....

He sits there, maybe an hour, maybe two.....

I'm really not sure

waiting for someone to come in....

someone to give HIM a cure....

Its been a long time, since he had a laugh,

a long time indeed, since he laughed his guts out....

a long time since someone understood what he wanted...

long since he met someone, he couldn't do without....

After 3 long hours, he packs his things....

puts it in a gunny bag, over his shoulder which he slings....

He walks towards the door, never to return again...

turns off the lights, and walks out into the rain....

But little did he notice the dark corner of the hall....

the silent silhouette of someone sitting still...

not afraid of the quiet and dark...

she is prepaid to wait until

Following him around, attending his every show,

unknown to the joker, she has been his forever....

as the joker walks out into the rain, never to return

she still sits there, with the candle,

prepared to meet him....

Waiting. Leaving never.....

One year since....26/11

Every Indian knows what he/she was doing when they first heard the news break-out on national TV.

     On the morning of 27/11/2008 i returned home from my University office in Belgaum after taking my provisional degree certificate and was immediately greeted on the door by a worried look on Guddy's face. I could see she was really upset and in the most serious tone, i've ever heard from her, she simply told me "Bhaiya, Mumbai mein terrorist attack re!!!!". For a moment i didnt believe her and then heard the the unmistakable voice of Deepak Chaurasia, loud and clear, emanating from my TV set in the living room, covering the attacks for Aaj Tak.

     My reaction was shock, anger, helplessness, pity and disgust, mixed in one complex emotion. All these emotions mixed to form a slow moving, high viscosity fluid in my head which kept me from immediately going to my TV to 'check it out'. Rather i simply walked straight to the bathroom to freshen up after my 2 day trip to belgaum. Needless to say, later i spent the next three days shifting channels from Aaj Tak to NDTV to BBC and CNN. 

Meanwhile, mom was worried a touch more than us, as one of my mausi lives in Mumbai and my mama, who is in NSG, was scheduled to be in Mumbai on 30th, if the situation could not be brought under control by then. Thankfully, it was!!!! Dad, who was at the National hockey camp in New Delhi, also got repeated safety alerts from mom.

After Kasab was caught and and the whole incident was done, there were many things which were screaming to be brought to public attention.

1) Failure of Indian Intelligence: Indian intelligence failed on may fronts here, again. Starting from failing to predict the attacks, to failure in cooperation with foreign Intelligence. Our intelligence has failed us time and again, be it the parliament attacks, Numerous bomb blasts in Mumbai, Bangalore, Jaipur.... Its easy to loose track of these over time!!!! Just a look at MOSSAD and CIA, and one can understand how intelligence services should be!!!!Apart from Munich '72 massacre, there have been no attacks on Israelis, even though Israel is THE MOST hated country in the world. And of course, how many terrorist strikes have occurred in the US after 9/11. One can debate about US being geographically far from such 'hostile centres', but Israel is surrounded by countries which want to eradicate it from the face of this earth and don't mind saying so in public.

2) Mindless Indian media: Though it was very informative for us, as viewers, to keep ourself updated in real time, but media should've kept restraints on the material that they were airing, because they apparently forgot, they are after all airing it on national television. These channels also air in Pakistan right to the dug outs where the handlers were seated and remote controlling the operation. Here Ministry of Information and Broadcast should've censored the material first before it was being aired or simply the police should've cordoned off a much larger area, which also would've kept the news hungry reporters out off harms way!!!

and yes, after the whole incident, one particular News channel aired an 'exclusive' 1 hour program on the shaheed 'pigeons' outside Taj hotels...yes thats right.... 'pigeons', as in birds!!! I almost ripped my TV socket from the wall!!!!

3) Weapons used by Mumbai Police: Probably, this should've come first. Our cops were using weapons like .303 Lee Enfield (Older than World War I) and  7.62 1A Self Loading Rifles (As old as .303) against AK-47s, AK-56s and Grenades. And to add to their woes, they used plastic helmets and the bulletproof jackets which were all but 'bulletproof'. These things resulted in the death of some of the best cops in our country!!!! and the sad part is that these things are making some 'skeptics' believe that these attacks were staged!!! :x ..."What the FUCK!!!!"

4) Work of NSG: Indian commandos are considered to be among the elite in the world and certainly the best in Asia and they proved it during the attacks. Some people keep groaning about the fact that NSG came-in 10 hours after the attacks began, and that their operation was painstakingly slow. These 'people' aren't aware of the facts. NSG was alerted at midnight, in under 2 and a half hours of the attacks and inside another hour they were in palam airport where they reached by ....TRUCKS.... yes, trucks, because the helicopters they possess at manesar, don't have night flying capabilities (and also their request for as fixed-wing aircraft has been held-up by the Home Ministry). The fiasco doesn't end here. They had to wait for another hour at the airport for the plane, which was called from Chandigarh, to take them to the 'war zone'. All in all, almost 3 precious hours were lost. According to NSG DG Jyoti Krishan Dutt, “By the time we reached (Mumbai), most (hostages) were dead."

Their operation took 59 long hours. Why so? because there just weren't 10 terrorists to kill.... there also were 100s of lives to be saved. Analyzing the overall stats of the attacks, we officially lost 183 people, but around 700-800 people were rescued, in which 600+ were from Taj, Oberoi and Nariman House. This shows the excellent work done by the Black Cats.

5) Attitude of Pakistan Govt.: The flip-flops done by our neighbors were classic during this period and made me laugh on numerous occasions, both at their level of stupidity and their belief that someone actually buys that shit. Initially, they flatly denied any pakistani involvement in the attacks. Then as and when Kasab shared information with the police about his home in faridkot, that village was suddenly cordoned off, surrounded by the army and entry of any media person was prohibited. But apparently someone did manage to sneak in and get a shot of his home and an interview with his neighbors. They then wanted India to share evidence with them regarding any pakistani involvement, and when they received a shit load of it, which included VoIP IDs of the pakistani handlers, they rejected it saying it wasn't conclusive enough and wanted some 'real evidence'. "You are laughing too right??? [:D]" Then, they pretend to house arrest a few members of Jamaat ud-Dawa, under US and UN pressure, (No surprises as to why. MONEY!!! AID!!! CHANDA!!! BHEEK!!!) but those guys were found to roaming freely after a few days. "I could probably write a lot more on this topic, but it would probably bore a few readers away, if i haven't done so already!!!! and which i fear i have!! [:(]"

On the morning of 29th when the 9th terrorist was killed and Kasab, caught, I heaved a sigh of relief and thanked the security forces for saving countless lives, esp Assistant sub-inspector Tukaram Omble (for the people who don't know who this great man is, please Google his name). I, initially, was very happy that he was receiving a fair trial, as thats the sign of a true democracy, but gradually this trial is becoming a farce and has all the traits of an Ekta Kapoor 'Potboiler'!!!!

It all started with Advocate Anjali Waghmare (the defense lawyer) being publicly fired on the grounds of 'professional misconduct', in April, as she did not inform the court that she is also representing one of the victims of the attacks file for compensation.

The appointment of Abbas Kazmi as the defense lawyer against the public prosecutor Ujjwal Nikam also caused a flutter as these two were also involved in other high profile cases like '93  Mumbai blasts and Gulshan Kumar murder case. Then, out of the blue came Kasab's guilty plea. But Nikam sensing a ploy to have the trial ended early without Kasab facing all charges, pleaded the judge not to accept the plea until he had rested his case. Yet another twist came when Abbas Kazmi was also fired from the case, late last month, with 'Non Co-operation' being the reason cited this time by Special judge Tahliyani. I feel, he is more relieved to be out of this case, as he kept complaining about how tough it was getting for him and he was getting peanuts as salary for this and could not take up any new cases.

And now, to add to the drama, Kasab again back-tracked on his statement and plead not-guilty for all the charges against him and claims he came to Mumbai as a visitor and was promptly arrested by the police. He also claimed that the person who was caught on camera during the attacks, looked a lot like him. "Yeah, u moron, Mumbai police knew what the attackers would look like, 5 days before the attack!!!!!"

Of course in the middle we kept hearing Kasab wanting to be treated like everyone else and wants good food, daily newspapers, permission to roam about freely in jail. He talks marathi, says he fears for his life in the prison and he even has the cheek to carry a sample bowl of rice to court as an 'evidence' of food being given to him being laced with drugs (Obviously, it was tested and was found to be just that, a bowl of rice).

Reading about these things in the papers, daily, tend to take the shine, seriousness and importance off the case. It makes one feel that our judicial system is being mocked and which in-turn feels like a mockery of us as Indians.

Well, I do not promise to keep this post updated on a weekly or even monthly basis, but i will continue with it as when i find time and an urge to empty my brain off sensible things to concentrate on more insignificant things in life!!!! 

The New Life....

The Night's bright again
flowers in full bloom
you stare at the sun
without making your eyes squirm....
you're surprised at the turn of events
Sun set a few hours ago, Hot
things don't make much sense
but you're happy to get another shot....

You close your eyes, breath big
tilt your head back
look at the strange floating heads
with Knives, Needles, Scissors & Bottles on the rack....

Thinking of escaping?
Oh! I think not
you're in my hands now
I turn you around and give a little spank....

The lights are bloody dazzling
Air never so fresh
You are relieved of your suffocated life
Oh! You like My sweet caress....

Night...Lights...Heads...Knives....
things still don't make any sense,
that's a lot of information to take
esp when your brains like dead weight....
then, you try to speak to me
but hardly a noise escapes, hmmm well
I anyways wouldnt've answered back, except to say,
"WELCOME TO HELL!!!!"

PS: For best results, read this with 'Question!' by 'System of a Down' on the background!!!!

The shit i love!!!!!

        Its been a century since i last grazed the holy screen of my blog to say something..... Not that i wasnt thinkin about it....but i had no topic in mind to write on..... except for some crazed old romantic themed songs.....(thers only so much of em u can write). Now recently, going through a friend's blog...i relaized why dont i write about sumthing i know a fair bit on, and am actually good at!! lets see.... Formula 1, Books, movies and Music....
I guess we can loose 'music' from the list, temporarily, as i'm stil a novice in that field....thrs a lot f music i must "listen" to before i can even think about commenting on it.... (but there's 1 thing i can tell u for certain, Rock & Metal are the only types of music worth listening to or discussing about...worst music is Rap(except eminem & snoop dog) closely followed by pop.....so, rap/pop hardcores, kindly get ur 'tashreef' out of here!!!!

       So, first up, i'll start off with formula 1..... as its my first love!!!! i must warn the readers that i might, at some places, get a bit technical. So, novices to F1, please dont get dishartened if there are somethings you cannot understand(u can always google it, cant u!!!). After all F1 is an Elite sport, enjoyed by the raja-maharaja....hahaha....
chao!!!!!

Tera hi khayal....

Dus logon ke beech Khada main,

apne aap ko akela pata raha,

hoton pe hasi aayi, to

tera hi khayaal mann mein aata raha...

College main kitab khole bahar takta raha,
thandi hawa bahi lekin be-asar chalta raha,
sukhe patto ko udte dekhka to ,
tera hi khayaal mann mein aata raha...

Kahin bhi dekta to tera chehra nazar aata,
tera chehra dekh main mann hi mann muskurata raha,
kisi ko pata nahi tha lekin ,
tera hi khayaal mann mein aata raha....

Dus logon ke beech Khada main,
apne aap ko akela pata raha,
hoton pe hasi aayi, to
tera hi khayaal mann mein aata raha...

Bina tere kuch bhi nahin mein,
gham ke aasoon chupchap pita raha,
Chehre pe khushi thi lekin,
tera hi khayaal mann mein aata raha....

Andheri raat hai, tera saath nahi,

Raat bhar ke toofan mein, siskiyan leke darta raha,
Daar ke saaye ko dil se nikal pheka to paya,
tera hi khayaal mann mein aata raha....

Dus logon ke beech Khada main,
apne aap ko akela pata raha,
hoton pe hasi aayi to,
tera hi khayaal mann mein aata raha...

Tujhse yeh sab kahne laga to,
dil ko jor jor se dhadakta paya,
Tujhe dekha to teri aankho mein bhi wahi paya,
Tu sharmaati rahi, main ghabrata raha,
aur tera hi khayaal mann mein aata raha....

YESTERDAY......

It's the same evening,

the same place,

the same time,

waiting for you again,

but this time its different,

there is no you.....

I close my eyes and mind wanders to yesterday,

when you were here too.....

Life seemed so different, so simple, so sweet yesterday,

and today, its the same, so complex, so painful,

how can one day change it so much.....

yesterday i could see you how ever long i wanted to,

but today all i have is that frozen smile of yours,

captured in my camera and heart......

There are so many things i wanted to say yesterday,

only couldn't,

instead i just stood there watching you,

watching you talk, watching you move, watching you laugh, watching you play.....

yesterday you looked prettier than ever,

prettier than the evening sky,

prettier than the butterfly....

Look its the same breeze blowing,

which yesterday made your hair fly,

and blew it right across my face....

Why did yesterday not go on a little longer,

for me to tell you what i felt,

what I've been feeling for the past fifteen years,

what i wanted you to know desperately....

Today I'm standing right here,

where we were yesterday,

there seems to be a cold spot in my chest,where my heart used to be,

and instead of warmth, a chill is spreading through my veins

and I'm looking for a quantum of solace.....

In the morning i saw you leave,

you saw me standing there and smiled,

as if you knew something, something i hadn't told you,

your steps were faltering and a glint of guilt in your eyes,

and something told me it wasn't over, not just yet.......

How to Score an FCD!!!!

Well, first of all lemme tell you a FACT..... thers no easy way to score an FCD nor any particular formula..... This is Just what i thought about... Following this might give you an Idea as to what is to be done for an FCD......

Ok.... we assume you are i 2nd year or higher...with totally 900 marks up for grabs.... and one needs 630 for an FCD....

Out of these 900 marks, 200 are from Internals and a further 100 from the Ext. labs.... so totally 300 marks in your control....
Try scoring at least 23 in all ur 6 theory and 2 lab internals.... which gives you.... 23x8=184 believe me getting 23+ is easy in internals, just study prop. for 2-3 hrs for each paper.....better ints. than ext. i always say....(23+ in any internal is a bonus and will definetly help you)....
That leave one with 630-184=446 to get....
Now comes your External labs....getting 42-45 is not that tough....(i'm talkin about Mechanical labs here, but holds good for other branches too).....Just prepare well for the viva and 42 will be a definite possiblity.... Ok...42x2=84....[184+84=268 out of 300]

So that leave you with 446-84=362....marks to get out of 600 to score FCD..... so on an average....362/6=60.3 marks in every theory paper.... dosent seem so scary now does it.... the remaining 10% comes from ints. and labs.... the more you score in those 300 marks the less you'd have to score in externals.....

Going further.....Out of 6 papers 1-2 papers will be tough and 1-2 will be easy...the rest will be average papers.... Try scoring 70+ in at least one of the papers, even better if you totally nail the 2 easy papers and score 70+ in both...as they will compensate for 1 or 2 tough papers you will get and try scoring 40-45 in the tough papers..... it will be easy to score 60s in the remaining average papers....

Trust me this thinking has helped me.....as one knows which subjects to conc. more in and how much to study for each paper.... For the tough papers....try doing more half questions chapters...esp. the first couple and last couple.... studying those will definetly help you score around 45-50 in those papers.....
This is Experience talking....i scored FCD frm 2nd-7th sem as of yet.... and always in the region 70-73%..... even in super tough 4th nd 6th sem and also in easy 3rd and 7th sem.....

If any further questions regarding this....plz DO NOT ask me...i have made myself pefectly clear.... One can bug one's Proffs. for those questions..... after all they are just stupid slobs... sitting on thier asses all day long..... CHAO!!!!

Engg Days....Part 1

Well, final year comin to an end....i'm in 8th sem now......god knows, how time flew by!!!!
It seems only yesterday that an out-of-sync, overwieght boy, saw, those broken windows of the sports room frm the bball court down below with his papa, a bunch of tall sporty lukin ppl play the hoop game, a bunch f scary lukin seniors stare hungrily at him, a couple f wierd proffs walkin around, a group f freshers like him already in a group f their own chattin away...... all this was too much to grasp for him during the short time they were in (apparently) the parking lot......and he quickly took his fathers hand and rushed him inside the building toward the office thinking "holy shit, how am i gonna survive here?"......
Then............... that guy met ME in the office...............

First year was, simply put, torrid......i hate meeting new people and there was a whole bunch of em(actually 90).....i knew the old frnds were gone, Anik, Akshaye, Sandeep, Ravi....i would never meet em again(it never happens, once u go to diff. colleges...thats it, the thread breaks)..... the whole 'bhai-chara' had to be started again....
well it wasnt as if i didint know anybody in the class....i had met this thin wiery guy in the seat selection process in CET cell... he went by name Anuj..... we were as if destined to be in the same coll(long story here)..... and the big burly Koushik a.k.a demon-domon(no i idea what a domon is)...... me and koushik went to the same tutions (Seetharam Sir)......
On the first day i remember i went striaght to the last bench seeing the only familiar faces thr.... Me and anuj wernt the only ppl thr....present were some really strange faces....there were some customary "cool guy" handshakes as all of got each others intro....
present were (as we now know as....)

1) ANANTH a.k.a GOD (He is claimed to have a Mystical smile, aur "jab bhi ananth ko gussa aata hai...kahin par jwalamukhi phatta hai", and a whole civilization gets destroyd,i know its sad. We all understand he was the one who destroyd Atlantis. He's a problem solver) Apne pure project ka completion iske majboot kandho pe hai.... His place is like my 2nd home...if im not at my place, i'll be found at either his or Harsha's place....

2) ANUJ a.k.a Anuj itself.....(luvs his BBall, he shoots frm any angle...he calls me "RIMI" during our bball sessions, If one thinks hard its easy to understand why, 'RIM-i'...) All the makings of a Event manager.... Organized our "coll. fest" almost single handidly!!!!

3) ARJUN a.k.a KOPPA (Its his surname....not sure how that nickname caught on + he has a funny way of saying 'chutiye'!!! nd he lives by his name, during online pool he sumhow manages to sink the black no. 8 frm anywhere anytime........even when not needed... he nd me together got hooked to rock, virtually at the same time....Like me a massive fan of Pink Floyd nd Led Zep) co-wrote some graphic symbols on ma fav. shirt with Rakshat.....

4) HARSHA a.k.a GURUJI (speak to him for 30 secs. and u'll know why. We actually call him Brain nd Guruji behind his back...nd he did'nt know it until now.... he is definetly worshipped in our class by our fellow comrades, including me, koppa, god and a few lecturers too (who go to him for tutions).... but all this said...definetly NOT a nerd)...and since after some 'events' have come to my knowledge recently..... his image has taken a further hike.....nd i have found my "guruji" in him!!!!

5) RAKSHAT a.k.a RAIKAR (again a surname...but this was started by Mr. ******* (he taught us electricals in 1st sem) who we now know as 'Digambar'....anyway he's apna very own connection to the west....he's frm Dubai.....nd apparently has a lot of contacts in the middle east (if u know what i mean).... oh did i mention he's our coll. stud..and i can say is a 'fruit' for all the 'fruitflies' of our coll, a 'sugar lump' for all the 'ants', a piece of 'sugarcane' for 'elephants', a 'grain of wheat' for the 'sparrows'......u get the picture right!!!! Sorry for the wierd examples.... just wanted to drive my point home....

6) RAVI a.k.a RAVI BHAI (This dude scares me sumtimes...he freakinshly strong...has a fast growing bald patch and is a huge fan of Homeopathy.... I have seen him popping those pills for ages without any increase in his hair-line... One of the most laid-back guys i've ever come across)

Engg Days....Part 2

First year went by very slowly thanks to our Physics nd Maths lecturers...not only were they a terrible bore but....ah dont feel like writing about them...really i've better things to write about......
Ah..we also had Mr. Digambar.....as we called him... he took Electricals for us in 1st sem. He had poor english nd used to get tensed seeing the girls (then 2 in no., now none)..... his english was so good i still have his notes preserved.... We also had a maths guy called R****** aka Mad-Dog... he single handedly got more than half our class a backlog in Maths-1...our very first engg. exam...because of his notes.... still hate him for that... btw i cleard it!!!
and in chemistry lab we toyd with our lab instructor.... he still runs scared seeing us..... This was also the time when i got all lyrical and was pelting down songs after songs and not to mention Shyaries.....wah wah!!!! After the debacle of 1st sem results(no backlogs here)....the condition improved in 2nd sem....

The second year started with the impending gloom parly cuz of startin of with 'MECHANICAL' subjects.....like BTD, SOM, ATD, DME-I...etc... nd partly bcuz no girls were left in our class as they jumped ships to greener pastures like IS & EEE......this also meant that we didnt have our conversation starter with the girls of other branches...as we would start of by swearing on our common lecturers....This required some improvisation of tactics......which i shall not go into right now...... The lecturers were lousy at best save for a couple of em...Mr. Jagdish/Jagga for ATD, Mr. Vishnu Prasad, the rookie, for BTD were the most 'influential'..... This was also the time when our class was split and Rakshat and Ravi went to B section. If the third sem papers were scary we were in for hell in 4th sem..... The pace of 4th sem papers started with an easy Maths-4 and Metrology & Measurment, then came the monstrous papers of ATD and KOM...the pace broke with a light Fluid Mechanics paper.... and then our worst fears were realised when we sat for last Design of Machines-1..... those were the most tormenting and shortest 3 hours of my life, It felt as if the exam got over in 5 minutes..... after the exam all were silent (i knew all were saying their fav. prayer)..... All of us after calculating were only sure of 5-10 marks (10, if the guy had done well) the rest of 25-30 would have to come from sumwhere and all were wonderin which questions would those be. The magnitude of damage done by 4th sem would only be evident after a couple of months, sumwhere in the 5th sem.

If we thought the worse was over with 4th sem we were in for a rude shock as 5th sem too had some crazy subjects in the form of Fluid Machinery, Dynamics of Machines, Design-2(yes, continuation of Design-1 frm 4th sem) and Control Engg...... we also had 2 massive theory subjects CAD/CAM and MP-2....
We were already struggling to cope up with turbines nd Pumps in FMS and crazy circuits in CE, & Anuj had practically stopped coming to coll.(in the fear of the results) when the 4th sem results dropped..... It was a bloodbath... close to half of our class had perished..... the culprits being ATD, DME & surprisingly KOM..... Me, Ananth, Harsha, Arjun, Rakshat escaped unhurt..... We were more than happy to clear all the papers, but anuj was the most ecstatic as he had cleard all except KOM..... Ravi had it in FM.... In all there were only about 15 left in class without a backlog (including me) & we were kinda feelin like royalty. Seeing the results of 4th sem...the HOD had no choice but to rejoin but the sections..... Rakshat was back in the middle, but it would never be the same again (not between me and Rakshat).... As we were reaching the end of our sem.... i was serously getting some bad vibes from CE and CAD/CAM.... their chapters had seriously gone from bad to worse....no ammount of concentration in class was giving us any idea about the subjects, and add to that an avg. of 2-3 movies in theatre a week wasnt helping either..... Me and Koppa decided to get together and started preparin for the papers at my place about 3 weeks frm the exams..... CE and FMS were a major head-ache right until the exams started..... Then all lights went red...and our 5th sem exams were underway....It started with a shockingly easy FMS paper..... We were all happy but were hoping for tougher papers for DOM, MP-2.....as the odds for getting a tough paper for for DME-2 and CE would decrease, as we had only completed 40 marks in DME-2 and it was only a couple of days before the exams that we got the notes of Mr. Swamy (a Lecturer) through Rakshat..... but as it turned out the next papers of DOM, DME-2 were a blow-off...i think this was the longest VTU had gone with a string of easy papers.....we ere expecting the worst now and that is what we got... MP-2 was tough but for the few questions that me Harsha & Ananth had decided and prepared but then came CE and swept us off our feet.... All of us were hangin by threads (again)....The results came midway through 6th sem...and as expected the main back papers were CE and MP-2......with a few geniuses getting even in FMS and DOM....