Friday, October 15, 2010

11... 11... 11...

Human ignorance is really dangerous because it is not only about not knowing but also lacking the will to know.

I don't loathe people who keep "wishing" that I do better. I do wish they would shut the f**k up once in a while.

I don't take hints. What do you think I am? An Oracle PL/SQL Compiler? /*+ HINT+If Exist female admirer */

If you don't want your glass to be half empty... then STOP drinking from it!

Is it such a grave crime to have looked for affirmation once in a while?

Never question your subconscious. You may not like the answers.

Oppose me if you should. But before doing so, ask yourself a question. Is the cause I stand for evil? If the answer is no, ask yourself why do you really oppose me?

The biggest obstacle visionaries face is the gene pool of their own species which is geared to only tackle immediate threats and not mitigate long term ones. And this is also why saving the environment is such a dormant concern in most of the humans.

The difference between a masterpiece and a monumental failure is the perception of the audience.

The problem with people is that in their dictionary rights come before duties.

It is so improbable that the Infinite Improbability Drive should construct itself out of thin air right here any moment now.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Here comes the sun... err... umm.. no... the next 10

Be sure that there will be one person who doesn't cry at your wake and that be you.


Beliefs should be like wine glasses. They should be kept clean, protected, cherished and handed down as family heirlooms. But when the right wine and the right moment comes along, they should be consigned to the flames of the hearth in celebration of newly found ones.


I am the result of 3 billion lines of code.
P.S. Send all bug reports to God!


I refuse to be part of a movement. I wish to be the movement.


It doesn't matter how you got here. What matters is what your next step is going to be. What you choose it to be is going to define where you go from here.


It's not about the half full glass mate... It is about the whole beer fridge.


Just because I am not famous doesn't mean I don't have a story to tell.


People want others to believe that their values are constants. But they actually declare them as variables.


Space is the final solution to wars. Why? Because annoying neighbors are less of a concern for someone who has the ability to vacation in a foreign land.


There is a fine line between being naive and being delusional. I think I am on the right side of it.

Monday, August 02, 2010

Rise of the Über-Geek

Recently I was drawn into a discussion that I had managed to troll myself into. The subject (link here) was rather benignly interesting but turned out to be rather insidious as it triggered the organic growth of the discussion. At the end of it, which it finally did before having been put down about thrice (Cue the “Die! Die! Why won’t you die!”) I was left with a question. The answer to which I had a realization. A realization I’d like to now share.
Back in time when I was growing up, (and this was a really long time ago), the word ‘geek’ had a special meaning. A meaning which embraced a certain stereotype that fit the meaning and the lives of those who were forever affected by this tag. Even today Wikipedia lists the following definitions of geek
"A bright young man turned inward, poorly socialized, who felt so little kinship with his own planet that he routinely traveled to the ones invented by his favorite authors, who thought of that secret, dreamy place his computer took him to as cyberspace—somewhere exciting, a place more real than his own life, a land he could conquer, not a drab teenager's room in his parents' house."
“A derogatory reference to a person obsessed with intellectual pursuits for their own sake, who is also deficient in most other human attributes so as to impair the person's smooth operation within society.”
And the mainstream media has done little to not fit to this stereotype of a socially awkward, fashion derelict individual who would most often be found wearing glasses resembling the sawed off bottoms of coke bottles. This was the mainstream geek. He had one and one superpower and that was his obscenely extreme intellect, so well-endowed that most of the time his mouth would not be able to keep up with his mind. Forever shunned by the opposite sex in all forms of attractiveness he would end up being tormented by the athletic type of his own gender. All in all, there was no class differentiation between a nerd and a geek. All geeks and nerds were alike to a layman fun-maker, like penguins. Waddling in their own worlds there was no need to distinguish them apart as Emperors and Gentoos. Being called one was a slur and being one was not any kid’s dream.
But halfway across the world from where I was growing up, a change was happening. Four geeks aptly titled as “The Pirates of the Silicon Valley” were starting a paradigm shift related to the social view towards geeks. To that effect that one of them could actually go on to state, “Be nice to nerds. Chances are you'll end up working for one.” And the world took notice. Suddenly the intricacies of normal life like finances were realized to be merely easy puzzles that these geeks could solve on their way to untold riches. But in their deepest hearts these individuals were still the geeks, the old school ones.
Suddenly being a geek was cool and fashionable. This is where the genesis started. The new millennium, now a decade old, has a new class of individuals. These individuals conform to none of the old stereotypes of geek-hood. They proclaim themselves to be geeks. In their defense most of them do possess the superpower but lack the persona to fit in. That would be a fundamentally upsetting situation in case of (for the sake of example) superheroes. How would you react to Superman mouthing, “Up! Up! And Away!” while dressed as Bozo the Clown? And only a similar reaction comes to an old-school person when faced with individuals who could give Lily Cole a run for her looks (yeah that Lily Cole) and yet call themselves “geeks”! (In all fairness Ms Cole aced her tests as a student at King’s College, Cambridge). These individuals are well-adjusted to social nuances, less prone to social awkwardness, are never known to sport unkempt looks and all in all, still are the smartest lot of people around. Understandably they take it as a compliment when called a geek and an insult when not classed as one. This is exactly why the article, I referred to, got me into trouble. As an old-school believer of geekdom, it was impossible for me to imagine the context of relating the two titular entities of the article.
As with our understanding of life around us, we are sometimes required to coin new terms to refer to insights arising out of a deeper study. And in this case, I think it is no longer fair to either class of individuals, new or old, to be referred with the same name. And thus rises the uber-geek, a result of Darwinian evolution, having suppressed undesirable traits and enhanced the desirable ones, as a new species that is so splendid that being one could be every kid’s dream.

P.S. The author claims no affiliation to any of the species mentioned above mostly because his application for membership was denied with the comment, “Has no superpowers”

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Past 200...

Most people know that I go by the name True Realist. Very few know that my middle name is "Cynic and Bitter"

Such is the beauty of ideas and research, that tend to materialize at the most inopportune times, when all that may be at hand is toilet paper.

The most dangerous secrets that we have are the ones we keep from ourselves.

There are ways and then there are ways. It is not about the ways we choose but rather the ways we don't.

The light at the end of the tunnel is just a decoy. The hidden sycthe is what's meant for you.

There are stereotypes and then there are stereotypes. The one stereotype that has never failed me is that most humans, by themselves, are jerks.

We wear masks because all of us are afraid of mirrors...

Whoever suggested that when going through hell the best option is to keep going, clearly never heard about U-turns!

Copernicus proved centuries ago that the Earth is not the center of the Universe, much less so is an insignificantly minute entity residing on it. And by that, I meant you,

I swam through a sea of perfumed revelry, of sweet nothings, of happy endings & new beginnings, of gay abandon without the worry for tomorrow. I emerged onto the sands of my penance, arid & hot, blown not by a gentle breeze but that of the hot breath of fleeting time. I touch my brow, to wipe off an odd droplet, find none has clung to me and only chance upon a stoic realization, "Wow! God really made me water-proof!"

In a moment of astounding clarity, I dawned upon a question. What if the soul was still matter, just not bound by the Higgs field? The Higgs field is what makes matter as we know it, unyielding and unwilling to share the same space. If the soul was the matter free of the Higgs field, it could traverse anything and everything at the speed of light or maybe more? And that makes the ancient wisdom talking about freeing oneself of the materialistic plane of existence a lot more sensible. It asks the soul to be able to free itself, not unto death, from the matter that binds it within the body and thence explore a whole new universe of possibilities that lie beyond it.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

The unnoticed 200...

24 February 2010 was a landmark date in history of cricket. The most famous man of modern day cricket (Bradman was from a prior generation) had entered his name in the annals of history by notching up 200 runs in an ODI. Tributes and praises flowed like a flooded river on a rainy day. A few days later, something else happened too. Something that started out on 19 January 2007 and finally reached a similar numerical mark on the 9 March 2010. So while no one will quote that it took 1145 days to get there and while it didn’t garner so much attention, here it is anyways...

The 15 that bring me to my 200th quote:

A little fantasy is necessary for the sanity within reality. The trick is to know where to draw the line.

Edison is known less for the 2000 failed experiments with the light bulb than he is for the 1800+ patents he filed. Bottom-line is, it is ok to fail only if you eventually succeed.

Education doesn't teach us how to deal with the harsh realities of life. When faced with these, it teaches us that we ourselves are to be blamed.

I don't want to believe in life after death because I don't want to see God standing at the end of the white light with a smirk on his face that says, "You got it all wrong!"

I like real women. Unfortunately all the ones I've met so far are complex.

If you hit rock-bottom hard enough, you might just get lodged there.

It is never the end of the world, except unless it is actually the end of the world.

I've got all the trappings of a genius, except maybe the intellect.

Just because it has been all bad so far, do you think everything's gonna turn round and become positive? What do you think life is? An integer?

My pet peeve about smart-phones is that they fool some of their users into believing that having one makes them smarter.

Some describe a lifetime in a sentence. Others describe lifetime as a sentence. I wish to do neither.

The colour of an object is the one which the object rejects and reflects out. Even in nature you are best known by what you don't do.

The necessary conditions for saving the earth are that the process is either fashionable or economically profitable to do so.

What we are, is the sum total of all the hurts we've received.

When the grapes are sour, get into the vinegar business!

You cannot change the world. You can only change the world.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Than loose it!

There are people who have pet peeves about English grammar. There are people who are peeved by the desecration of English grammar by people. And there are others who are vexed by the English language itself. Then there is me. I am a non-native English speaker and refer to it as my father tongue. Unlike the native speakers, especially those who are less tolerant to others, I understand that this language can be hard to deal with. Though wait till you see French. But this is not about French. This is about English and my specific peeve related to it.

I find it easy to let people off the hook for mistakes related to tense. Ask the Chinese. Their concept of tense and time in language is very different. So when they are translating a thought in their mind to convey it to you in English, they might just falter with the tense. This is pardonable easily and necessarily. They are quick learners.

In the same vein, mistakes in construction of sentences or punctuation, is pardonable. That is only as long as the meaning is not changed to something incomprehensible or hilarious. “Eats, shoots and leaves” over “Eats shoots and leaves” provides comic respite instead of being a source of irritation.

The queerness of the language and the queerness of people trying to use it can be an endless source of entertainment. As a challenge, I would rather take it upon myself to understand the intended message instead of trying to throw off a speaker by ridiculing him for incorrect usage.

So then, what is it that rankles me when it comes to English language? It is these four words: Than, then, lose, loose and all the associated use or should I say rather misuse associated with them. I don’t really know the history of origin of these four words, but whoever chose to give them a. similar sounds, b. similar spellings; is in my opinion the biggest moron of all time. And these happen to be used the wrong way around 9 out of 10 times they are used.

Nothing takes the edge off a message than the line, “If he can do it, than you can too.” (No I can’t because you and he are morons!). And then there’s the other one, “Than we realized our mistake.” (No you didn’t, you just made another). Even veterans tend to make this mistake then what can I say about the other not so fortunate ones?

I’d say that if I had a penny for every time I ended up losing my temper over the misused ‘loose’ I wouldn’t have to worry about having a job. A friend once wrote to me, “I think I am loosing her.” (Good for her, I wish you’d lose my email address too) Maybe I should loosen up a bit on someone asking me, “Should I carry some lose change?” (I don’t know. Can you carry something that’s already lost?)

Call it an esoteric allergy, like one to male cockroaches that gives you a nasty rash on the bum. But the misuse of these words is ever so prevalent like male cockroaches. And I hate rashes on my bum. To add to this, there are the consistent offenders who despite being corrected, continue to use the wrong ones in the same conversation. This makes them bigger morons than the person who made these words similar sounding. Alas, only the Queen of Hearts can scream, “Off with their heads” and have it seen to effect.

In conclusion, it is only fair to mention a trick for remembering the correct usage. Years ago Readers’ Digest put to rest any confusion that could arise around the two similar words, ‘stationary’ and ‘stationery’ by a simple trick. The ‘a’ in stationary stood for ‘action’. And hence, the pencil, ruler, clips had nothing to do with it. They would all be the loyal followers of stationery. In a similar way, here’s something to remember:

The extra ‘o’ in loose is the excess that makes your pants loose. With extra ‘o’ lost, you have no more ‘o’s to lose.

The ‘e’ in ‘then’ stands for ‘event’ and hence subsequently something else happens. The ‘a’ in ‘than’ stands for ‘another’ without which there can be no comparison.

Hope you have this memorized and tucked away in a handy corner of your brain. And if you happen to have any other misnomers about the usage of these four words, than please loose them right away! ;)

Friday, January 08, 2010

The first 10 for 2010

Being your own doctor is about knowing when to self-medicate on alcohol.

Fashion is not about beauty. It is about ugliness. For beautiful is perfect and doesn't need to be changed. Fashion on the other hand, needs to be changed every now and then.

I know the horizon is not real. Yet I chase it so that one day I'll be able to run fast enough to get past it!

I won't ask why it rains on me though I do want to know where I can find my umbrella.

It's unbelievable as to how people hope that the new year is going to be wonderful and great whilst they have just seen its predecessor beat all records of crappiness.

Never say no to an offer that will never be made!

Relationships are easy. Just like 5th grade maths. The only problem is that most of us aren't past the 2nd grade.

The easiest way to a man's heart is through is stomach because it is ridiculously hard to cut through the ribcage!

The trick behind being intelligent is about knowing when to be stupid.

Going beyond the obvious at times just requires a good look at the obvious itself.

Saturday, October 31, 2009

The new 10

These ones are here because someone pinged me and reminded me that I had not posted new ones for quite a while. So with a thanks to the follower, here goes:

If you want to run away from everything, then you gotta run towards nothing!

Adversity is God's way of telling you that having something is not a right but only an earned privilege.

Does someone continually pin-pricked by grief deserve it any more than someone shot point blank by it?

Evil thoughts need no welcome mats, good ones though demand a red carpet!

Give me the courage to speak up when speaking matters the most, the smartness to shut up when silence is what matters, and the wisdom to distinguish the one from the other.

If you are only as smart as the company you keep, then would it make Einstein dumber or his peers smarter?

Love is like a living velociraptor: despite your movie-fueled lifelong neurotic obsession, unlikely to be found in your environment even if you are at the Disney World's Jurassic Park ride.

There is always a great year ahead of you, just that it shifts ahead by a day everyday!

What do you do when you know that doing something is not going to make you happy and yet not doing it is also not going to make you happy.

When you think, "Am I the only one?" there are at least 1 billion people thinking just the same as you... creepily at the very same moment! http://www.xkcd.com/610/

50 kilos of Life

How much does one’s soul weigh? And since without the soul, there is no life, consequently how much does one’s life weigh? If MacDougall is to be believed for his work in 1907, it is 21 grams. The airline companies have a more definitive answer. It is 50 kilos if you are traveling economy class across the Atlantic. It is more if you are traveling business or first class. Since I am not someone born with a silver spoon in his mouth, it’s the 50 kilos that matter.

For the first 20 odd years of my life, I stayed in my home town. Travel outside to other cities was limited to short trips, with a definite return date not so far into the future. Then, I started on my first job. Ever since then, I’ve practically lived out of my suitcases. So after nearly five years now, I look back and wonder at the way this has defined my life. I have been to places, lived for considerably long durations in 4 cities and seen another 40 or so. And each time I moved for good, there always has been this dilemma about what to carry on and what not to.

Moving from one city to another takes its toll on certain individuals. Especially me. There are some I’ve seen, who don’t really seem to be affected by it at all. While I would agonize in a Shakespearean ‘to or not to’ take a certain item along, these people are packed and ready in a backpack not even 10 kg in weight. These are the people I envy, and yet I have never been able to get them to divulge their secret of their life, er, packing. For them, life weighs as much as a small backpack can fit in it. They are, what I call, birds. Light, free from the baggage of life that I tend to collect so easily. But this is not about them.

For the less fortunate souls like me, the 50 kilos, so grudgingly allowed by the airlines, is not enough to hold everything that I need. And I don’t even get started on what I want to take along. In each city I’ve spent long enough, there is with someone, tied only by the fact that this someone knew me, a potted plant which once adorned the window in the room I stayed in. Then there’s this chest-drawer full of small odds and ends lying in the place I started out from. Its material value is probably nothing. But with each of those small things is a memory associated. Maybe the memory is something trivial in the grand scale of things, but profoundly touching enough to make me hold on to it for this long. And yet when I set out to travel to a new city, that chest-drawer is the last place I look for stuff. Over time, I’ve noticed that it is not just that chest-drawer back home. In each place, I’ve called home long enough; I’ve managed to collect a similar chest-drawer full of stuff. Just that when it is time to leave, that gets left behind.

The crazy part of all this is that every single thing in the bags is, more often than not, easily procurable at the destination. Neither have I been to a city which doesn’t sell toothpaste to its travelers nor one which doesn’t have clothes or utensils on offer. Yet instead of carrying along that chest-drawer full of memories, I pack in an umbrella. It is simple practicality that always wins over everything else.

50 kilos of stuff is not much. Not when it is not gold. Not when it is not something as precious as memories. Still when it is time to choose what should go along and what should be left behind, it is the not so precious that wins. We leave many of the things, which mattered, behind hoping that somewhere in our mind, we have made the space for the memory about them and the time associated with them. If all these memories are the sum total of our life and we end up leaving behind some of these memories just like the objects, how much of our life do we end up losing by the time we get to the end of the journey? And how much of it do we really carry beyond? 21 grams doesn’t seem a lot of baggage as a soul. And what do I pack? Does the place where I’ll spend eternity need an umbrella? Will there be a shop round the corner which will sell me the stuff I might need? Do I get to carry on the memories of a lifetime or is there a traveler class distinction that says 21 grams worth of memories only? I can almost hear a ghostly whisper saying, “We are sorry, but only Pharaoh-class travelers are allowed to bring along a pyramid full of stuff.”
We all need memories to remember who we are. Even if eternity or the next birth is supposed to be a clean slate, I do hope that I’ve a big chest-drawer full of memories to leave behind.

--Though it might seem odd, this blog-post is dedicated to my two suitcases, the vessels of the 50 kilos of my life over the numerous trans-Atlantic hops and other travels, holding on to their precious cargo with unwavering grit, at an occasional cost of a wheel or handle and checkered with countless baggage tags, each one as a proof of a journey successfully completed.

Friday, August 14, 2009

10 in 5 months...

Blessed are those who only see one side of the truth. It leaves them with very little to contend within.

Calling you honey is not a term of endearment. It is my way of calling you the excrement of an insect!

Just because you don't fit in doesn't mean you were meant to stand out.

My doc wants me to stay off anything sweet, even sweet dreams.

Reading a book is like getting a tattoo, even if you hate it later, it still identifies you as who you are.

Some times the best thing to do is nothing at all. Knowing those times is the only thing I need to learn.

The only advantage of bullshit is that as it matures, it becomes manure!

The only reason, why I tread an oft trodden path, is because its harder to see the trail of destruction I leave behind!

The reason why reality always wins over illusions is because it pretty much well lasts longer.

The world accepts genius with the same enthusiasm as a 110V bulb accepts being plugged into a 220V source.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Any interaction with me always involves a little bit of Google. It is when I'm doing the Googling, that I enjoy the conversation more than usual.

Because there are no happy endings, just an illusion of the ones which were and the ones which were not.

Bugs are immortal. Programmers unfortunately, arent.

Definitive proof that 136 is less than 36: A pair of 36Ds dangling in front of a IQ: 136...

God probably invented the Devil to hide the fact that life is an autocratic regime!

I reject the concept of religion because it fails to separate faith in God from fear of God.

It is amazing to see how complicated lives people live. I find it hard just to handle the lite version of life itself.

No matter how much you say you are right and I ain't, I know this is the way up and you are standing on your head.

Not all adhesives can hold up against the vagaries of nature and the vagaries of destiny alike.

The mathematics of life doesn't care about the divisor or the quotient, only the remainder

The only thing standing between me and a billion dollars is an idea!

Your manager is like a hot air balloon. Stoke him well, he'll take you to dizzying heights as an underling. But don't forget, you are ballast, the first to be cut when he starts sinking.

Are you a non-vegetarian?

It is fun to see the diversity of cultures when it comes to food. While most of my friends would give me black looks for ordering Chicken Tikka back in India, here that’s considered almost vegetable. And then again, I’ve seen so many give up their ‘errant’ ways and return to being a ‘pure’ vegetarian. So when I am asked, “What are you?” It is always hard to give a straight answer. So for the convenience of my friends spread over the spectrum of gastric tendencies, here’s a handy handle on what’s not vegetarian.
I define consumption anything of animal origin as a definite sign of non-vegetarianism. Going by this postulate, no person in this world is a vegetarian. Not anyone who has, Hindi film-istyle, “aapni maa ka doodh piya hai toh”, claim himself (ok you feminists) or herself to be a vegetarian. Milk is NOT a vegetable. Given that each one of us has in past or the present, guzzled copious amounts of milk, cannot consider one to be a ‘vegetarian’. Also, going by the research I read years ago, if you ever have had chocolate, you have ingested a minimum of 3-4 insect legs. Egregious? Not so far. So having accepted that all are not vegetarians, it’s time to segregate the boys from the men. So here goes.
Class-1 Non-vegetarians : All you whiny lot talking about how vegetables can’t feel (being fried in 400 deg C oil) and don’t bleed (ketchup isn’t red enough for you?). If all you ever lived on was honey (which is again stealing someone’s food) you might excuse yourself from ever having killed or maimed for your own sustenance. Else quietly accept the class-1 designation.
Class-2: These are the ones who think eggs are not ‘meat’ and because most of today’s eggs will never turn into a chick, the most ‘humane’ (sic) way of eating food. Good people to take along for breakfast.
Class 3: Lots of people here so we break it down, but generally, “as long as it moved and not moving now” lot. Note to the Class 1 people: The tomato is very much alive when it enters your mouth as a part of your salad. And being eaten alive is not fun, I guess.
Class 3a: These are people who are ok with the concept of meat but are restricted by religious constraints. That would be the “can’t eat pig”, “can’t eat cow” kind of people. Mildly irritating when all you want to have is steak… medium rare please!
Class 3b: These people only limit their edible species spectrum by taste or medical reasons. You might not really enjoy buffalo tongue because it is too chewy or shellfish because it might send you into an anaphylactic shock. They are fun to be with as long as you know how to plunge an epi-pen straight into the heart.
Class 3c: These are people who don’t believe in religious constraints or don’t follow restrictive religions and are not averse to stuff by taste or medical reasons. They eat anything not alive at the time it enters their mouth. Fun too especially without the epi-pen.
Class 4: The ‘even if it moves lot’: Not an easy group to deal with. But you can make silly faces as they try to gulp down a live octopus that is trying its best to come out of their mouth. The grub eaters also fall into this category. As a kid many of you have been here. Remember the shiny beetle that went into your mouth much to the horror of your momma?
Class 5a: The “I eat my own kind” lot. They are a very dangerous lot to be with. Hannibal Lecter is the most famous representative of this kind. You might get invited for lunch and you might be on the menu. So beware!
Class 5b: This is an interesting lot and a very interesting discovery. In some cultures, the placenta is eaten! It is also considered to have medicinal/nutritional properties. While it is argued that this is same as class 5a, it gets it own category. Oh! by the way, if you ever had the habit of biting your own nails or bit your own tongue hard enough to taste the blood in your mouth, you might consider yourself up here in Class 5b.
That said and done, next time, someone asks, do ensure you talk right about being a ‘vegetarian’ or not. Wear your colors proudly and correctly refer to yourself as a class x non-vegetarian.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

The Photographer

An eye behind the lens, that rarely takes stage on the other side. That’s what I consider myself. More often than not, this is because the lens might not capture me as myself but as someone else. And yet again, when a person happily agrees to allow me to click their picture, I sweat. For photography is not about the fanciest camera and perfect subject. It is the window of the mind. And as it opens onto a world that cares less than little for what goes on around it, it has a job to do. In the commonest chaos of life, it sees a pattern, a momentary arrangement of color and an unconscious glance, which it has to capture, untainted by the mind’s own inadequacies, present it in the simplest manner and yet have it tell a story of a thousand words. A story told in a flitting second that stops a person, walking past the picture, right in their tracks and knocking on the window of their souls with a question. A simple question which keeps them going but with a new emotion, a feeling of longing to see what others so easily missed and yet was worth having observed and captured for posterity. And as this feeling grows from person to person, mind to mind, we start to breach the boundaries of our pervasive dogmas and start to see beauty in everything. To do all this, and in the short attention span of the subject, is hard work. But hold, be still, tilt just a little to the left and say, “Cheese!” because, I’m ready to paint that story.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

The new batch

The time people take to warm up to me is exceeded only by the it takes me to warm up to them.

I live life on Absolut terms. One part Absolut and three parts water!

I am ready to take life as it comes, but it seems life doesn't want to take me as I come.

You cannot get to the unimaginable technology of the future without imagining it today!

I dont know about your purpose on earth, but I guess mine is just to make up the numbers.

Addiction to substances is best prevented by addiction to the stuff that buys the substances!

Plants remove the nasty CO2 from air. Animals eat plants. Non-vegeterians eat animals. Vegeterians eat plants. Pray tell me who are the better environmentalists?

Whenever a girl says she's looking for character, I hand her a keyboard and leave her to find it herself.

I don't have the answer to every question. Guess God knows I am not Google.

The biggest lie taught by our society is that the good always triumphs. More often than not, it ends up with visitation rights to triumph.

Sunday, February 08, 2009

Confession of a Mass Murderer

She looked at me with a steely stare. She knew there was nowhere to run. I had her cornered. Had I not been blinded by my staid resolution to kill her, I’d have probably noticed if it was something different. It could have been a gaze filled with a plea for mercy or a gaze of defiance. Either ways she would have found no mercy and her defiance was of little deterrence to me. As she cowered trying to shield her children, I took aim and fired. Unfortunately for her it was not a quick death. As she lay on her back, gasping for air, her children ran for cover. I didn’t expect much resistance from them. Having never been out in the world on their own, they had been taught only to do one thing in case of danger. And that would be to run to their mother. They had never been taught what to do in case their mother was dead, as she was now. I took my time, methodically, bringing down one after another. Unlike their mother, there was not much struggle for life. They went down quickly. After having killed the last one, I realized I had to cover my tracks. So I dragged each one over to the drain hole and dropped them into it. It took some time but I was done.
I thought I was done with the act, but I remembered that it was necessary to check for inadvertent witnesses to the crime. I looked around. To my horror, I saw my soon to-be wife standing some distance away. It was obvious from her position, that she had been witness to the whole heinous act. I looked at her with a guilty look as a hundred questions rose into a tumultuous blizzard of emotions. Would she accept me after having witnessed what I had just done? Would she feel safe to bear me children after what she had just seen me mercilessly slaughter the innocent infants? If not, would she turn witness against me? Did I need to silence her too?
As I stood mute, overwhelmed by the thoughts, she walked over to me and said, “Thank you honey. You know how much I hate them!” With those words, all my fears were laid to rest. I didn’t have a witness to my act I had an accomplice. And I would never be arraigned for it. As for justice for the family, I don’t think there has been any recorded instance in the history of mankind, that a man has been convicted for killing cockroaches!

P.S. : Fictional...

Monday, January 12, 2009

Betwixt a job and a book...

As long as there is land and man to walk upon it, there will be strife to possess it.

Awe and genuine surprise are essential for vitality. If nothing amazes you, you are all but dead.

Every nation can sling something at its enemy.That 'something' being muck or missiles determines the efficacy of its message and intent.

Everyone has a right to be a jerk. Its the ones, who make it their duty, I dislike

Her love for me was a benign growth easily plucked out. Too bad mine for her metastasized.

I code, therefore I am... programmer!

I've learnt nothing from life because I never learned how to learn from life.

Life so far: All gall no glory

Stressed spelled backward is desserts. When combined, they annihilate each other in a burst of
pure happiness!

The greatest human weakness is that we can be convinced too easily to kill or be killed for the flimsiest cause.

The only complaint against the computer age is that it removes the simple age old distinction of black and white, the bad and good, turning it into a 24-bit grayscale with 8 bits of transparency.

What's wrong with the world? Its spinning... How do you expect humans to think straight with all that spinning...

You are like a single malt whiskey, classy, smooth and unique. I guess God just wants to play the master blender with us here :-)

Your love is like a breeze of fresh air. Too bad, my gills can't stand it.

Thursday, November 06, 2008

Being Icy Cool

There comes many a time in your life when you try to burst forth from the drabness of reality into a world of literary fantasy...
I did too... and the result was a book... an effort 2 years in writing... and another 2 years in publishing...
So without much ado... here's "Being Icy Cool" my maiden novel...
It's a worded picture of a collegian's life, his fears and aspirations, victories and failures, not held together by the glue of slapstick humor but possibly poignant contemplation of the smallest emotion in comparison to the vastness of everything around it...
Read more about it at: http://abek42.blogspot.com/

Monday, October 20, 2008

The dozen that took a 100 days (almost)

Tolerance is a virtue when exercised in moderation.

Howz life? Like an electron between the 's' and 'p' shells.

Life is a one way street with a dead end!

Every great man has failed once. But it is not a sufficient condition for greatness.

Life of a corporate... tottering 1,2,3... a perfect 10 and then chapter 11!
(on Lehmann's collapse)

She found happiness in the 'e'.. guess she was the true mathematician!

The stock exchange of life rates me as a sleeper scrip...

I agree that everything science tells us is wrong. But I strongly disagree that it can be attributed to the current concept of god.

The problem with today's world is that there is too little incentive to be good and too few consequences of being bad.

God may be in the business of running the Universe. But I'm willing to bet he's not into quality control.

So... is it time to buy guns, gold, bullets, canned food and water? Maybe not... but surely go lookup the places where you can buy those in a hurry!
(on the current financial crisis)

I am involved in a big study on the effects of exercise... I am the control group!

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Tryst with ignominy

Three score and a year more ago we made a tryst with destiny, redeeming a pledge to will for a nation conceived on the principles of democracy and equality of men and their religion. At the stroke of the hour, when the world watches, India awakens not to freedom and life, but to its darkest hour as a test. It is a test that others have stood through and barely passed before us. A test of whether a nation, so conceived on ideals can long endure the vagaries of human vice like the greed for power. It is a test for a nation to endure thus and still stand true to its commitment of common good by a handful few. A moment comes, which comes but rarely in history, where we bear mute witness, the end of an age where the keepers of the bastions of the nation were dedicated to its upkeep, and watch hapless as the soul of a nation, thought to be free, finds suppression without remonstrance. It is fitting that at this solemn moment we take the pledge of dedication to ensure that the keepers of our nation’s bastions are in their basest interests only dedicated to the service of the country and her people, free of hunger of power or money, unhindered by their prejudices and aligned without question to the only cause of our nation’s progress.

We need not meet on a battlefield of a war fought amongst us or against invaders, for this battle is to be fought in our hearts and minds. The brave men, living or dead, who struggled to achieve our nation’s freedom, have consecrated with blood and sweat this nation, far above our poor judgment of selecting the people to lead it forward. The world will little note, nor long remember what is said here, but it can never forget what they did. It is for us, the people of the nation, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to remind ourselves of the unending quest of a nation through trackless centuries to strive in face of countless odds, emerging victorious or failing, yet never losing sight of the quest or lay down the ideals of peace, equality and oneness with nature, which are her strengths.

In a global arena, we stand at the start of a period of ill fortune, wrought with problems of poverty, population, global warming, energy crisis and inflation. These problems are not the result of divine wrath upon humanity, but brought upon ourselves by our thoughtless pursuits suiting our selfish interests and behavior contrary to our ideals. This should provoke us to will the end of this era and rediscover ourselves as individuals capable of doing the right thing, to be wanting to awaken our real conscience and no longer take pride in the ability to break the rules and get away with it. And so listening to it, we strive forth not alone, willing others to fall behind, but as one state, one country, hand in hand, towards the quest laid down by the founders of this great nation. The achievement of such unity will only be a step, an opening of opportunity, to the greater triumphs and achievements that await us.

Are we brave enough and wise enough to grasp this opportunity and accept the challenge of the future? The service to India no longer means the service of the millions who suffer. It is no longer prudent to aim to wipe every tear from every eye. It is a larger effort of uplifting each one and in the process, each mind, to want to not bring a single tear to any eye. We need to labor and work hard, walk a path potholed with our own desires, asking us to shy away from sacrifice for a greater good, asking us to be morally weak just because someone else was too. And yet we may falter, succumb to our inborn weakness momentarily, we need to remind ourselves to rise above it and make amends.

Let us not give to the future generation the reason to add from our generation people to the ranks of Jaichands and Mir Jaffers and instead rejoice in the fact that we as a generation went on to rebuild the foundation of a nation aimed at becoming the most revered nation that led and not just aimed to lead the progress of humanity. Once committed to such a cause, let us remind ourselves to purge ourselves of the sins committed by putting the future of our nation into the hands of people who believe not in its progress but only their own. Let us ensure that we do not rejoice the existence of a government and its opposition who hold amongst their ranks convicted criminals. Let us not rejoice in the fact that scammers are in charge of the decisions that affect the progress of a nation. Let us not rejoice in the fact that the leaders we elect are ones who only espouse the cause of fragmentation of the nation by creed or language or caste, or those who hold dear the progress of a community instead of the whole nation. Let us for once put the ‘we’ before the ‘me’. Let us awaken to a future we would promise to the future children of this nation.

Only when we start on this arduous journey, shall we hallow our respect for the ones who gave the last full measure of devotion to this nation and thus solemnly resolve that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not only not perish from the earth, but shall be the greatest one ever conceived.

P.S. This 'speech' is totally inspired from the 'Tryst with destiny' speech by Pt. Jawaharlal Nehru and the 'Gettysburg Address' by Abraham Lincoln and is a result of the events that unfolded in the hallowed portals of the Parliament on and before 22nd July 2008.

Sunday, July 13, 2008

Wondering 2050

Ever got that feeling? The one wherein you say something and instantly know that it is going to turn out the other way? I get it all the time. The most recent one was this Friday. While leaving early, (6pm is early by my standards) I was listing the benefits of bus travel to a colleague. The fact that I get the same seat every time and I can book just days in advance flew fine. Then there was the detail about the bus completing the 486 km Mumbai-Ahmadabad journey in 9 hours. Something in my mind tingled, a mark of an ill omen, soon forgotten. So when the bus started at 11pm, 2 hours late, I gave the in-bus movie a pass in exchange for some much needed sleep. So this article is not about ‘De Taali’ (a few scenes of Ms. Takia cooking something, strangely did register in my mind, more because they seemed too unreal)


Beep! Beep! 6:00 a.m. seemed determined to break through my sleep. Just in time to see the Volvo bus hit the Ahmadabad-Baroda expressway. The Volvo bus makes short work of this 100 km stretch, so it is fun to watch. I have the ‘cockpit seat', so the only thing, that I always catch myself waiting for, is a takeoff. Sadly Boeing 747s need to get to at least 180 km/h to do that and Volvo buses don’t seem to fly. I looked out of my window to check the NHAI signboards. None were around. Instead a tiny milestone said, ‘Rajpipla 59 km’


The jet engines, waiting for take-off in my mind, ground to a painfully screeching halt. “Where the hell is Rajpipla?” 4th standard geography kicking in, (yeah, I probably am 'Panchvi Pass'that was a town 100 km due south of Baroda. Ahmadabad is 100 km due north of Baroda. The driver confirmed. Somewhere in the night, they found that there was a big traffic jam on the regular route. A traffic jam, that is 22 km long, is certainly a big jam. So here I was on an unfamiliar 2 lane road instead of the 6 lane expressway and a movie to contend with. This time it turned out to be 'Love Story 2050'


Let me be forthcoming. I am not a Hindi movie fan. After ‘Saavariya’, which I would recommend as an excellent torture device, I steer clear of Hindi movies. Still the sci-fi fan, the concept of a futuristic love-story (sic) had its attraction. I knew what the story was. Guy and girl fall in love in present day. Girl gets bumped off; guy teleports to future; finds the girl’s clone and falls in love all over. Pretty boring. I thought the sci-fi would make it interesting. So I watch on. Starting is pretty slow. Then we get to the boy meets girl. He sings a song. ‘Woo you’- ‘woo me’ sequences follow. My mind screams, “Can we get onto the sci-fi part? Hello? Ever heard of the fast-forward button?” Nope. This still continues. I get distracted. I look out. I spy a sign. ‘Rajpipla 42 km’ The movie is slow, so is my journey. Then I notice something else. The milestone also says, 'SH-64'. State Highway? You call a 1½ lane bumpy road a State highway? I cringe. Powers Ferry road in Atlanta is 3 lanes at worst and better surfaced. I don’t even start thinking about the I-285 and I-75 Interstates. These are 2050 A.D. away.


That brings me back to the movie. Still there is nothing. The song and dance sequences continue. Can the girl capitulate please? And get onto the part where she dies? Then something outside catches my attention. The road meanders into a village. There’s a cart. But this one is different. The ones I am used to seeing, in the semi-rural locality that I grew up in, are ones with neoprene truck tires. This one has wooden wheels. Then another one appears. Last I saw these, was when I went to a rural themed restaurant. I wonder if I just did a ‘Back to the Future – 3’ to be teleported back in time. But we were not doing 88 mph on that road. No way we could have gone that fast. Then we passed a group of small school children. They waved and whistled at the bus as if it was a stranger to their part of the region. Back to the movie, the girl is still alive. Is this movie about 2050 or 2008? But then Boman Irani is introduced. Wearing a ridiculously funny wig, he does a bad imitation of Doc Brown from ‘Back to the Future’. I silently run the second movie in my head, till we finally get to the point where we are almost at Rajpipla and its time for the gal to die.


It is time for a 'Physics+medical' lesson for the story writers. A bus (or dumpster if that what it was) travelling at a velocity enough to kill a person will always cause a good amount of external injuries. If I recall correctly, the gal dies an unimaginably badly acted death (sorry P.C., need to do better!) It was so bad, that the VCD player decided to strangle itself and died too. I guess there are other things than Vogon poetry that can kill a machine and I just had discovered one.


Luckily that spared the rest of us from the movie’s actual sci-fi part. Apparently, they did copy 'Back to the Future-2' to end up in the future. It is said that copying from one source is plagiarism. From multiple sources is research. So yes, the people who made this film deserve an A- for research. An F for the report though. Basing my understanding of the sci-fi from the song cuts and movie trailers that I saw, they decided to copy 'The Fifth Element' Note to the casting team. Mila Jovovich is Mila Jovovich. When she is cast as the red head Leeloo, she looks fantastic. P.C. doesn’t even come close. Also, New York 2263 A.D. is not Mumbai 2050 A.D. And we are not going to see flying cars, except if they are flying off the flyovers. But we are doing that already!


The robot friends of the latter day gal are mindlessly culled from other flicks. AI’s brown teddy looks cute. The pink one looks like a cheap Chinese imitation with lead based paints. Did that actually cause the red-head syndrome? The other robots look straight out of 'The Day the Earth Stood Still', the 1951 version. And I was talking about Gort not Klaatu. You would have seen it if you watched ‘Independence Day’ (the kid was watching the movie inside the RV). Bicentennial man was better rendered and it was Robin Williams behind the mask.


Frankly put, I have seen Indian television come up with better sci-fi way back in late 1980s. Those of you who remember ‘Space Station Sigma’, (yeah, it was a Star Trek rip-off, but a better worked out one) had way better robots. Oh also ‘Indradhanush’ had better stories of time travel than LS2050. Next time Bollywood wants to do a sci-fi flick, please take out the time to move out of the Film city and trek to IIT Mumbai across the Powai Lake. Spend a few hours in their first year hostels. They will give you better designs of robots than the clank-jobs you came up with. And yes, theirs’ will be remote operated with a full facial expressions suite.


Back to the road, a torturous journey completed, we finally head out of Baroda with signs saying, ‘Ahmedabad-Baroda Expressway 1 km’. The jet engines in my mind start rolling again. As for the movie, (since it is customary to rate it with stars), just go pick as many you want from the ones the viewers would have seen after stepping out of the movie theatre. The last thing you are going to see in Mumbai 2050 is a flying car. Fortunately there won’t be any reporters reporting that 2050 is here yet the redhead star with a stupid pink teddy isn’t. That is better left to the Orwellian 1984. Fortunately, Leeloo would be another 113 years into the future then. Else she’d have not bought into Korben Dallas’ words that ‘Love is worth saving’ Not after Love Story 2050. Or maybe she’d have just slapped P.C. and the makeup artists saying, “Senno Ekto Gamat” (“Never without my permission”)