Archives from Rediffblogs
3:09 AM 3/19/2005
People say Sunday is better, Monday is manic. I say Hallday is the best.Why doesn't it come every week? But then it has its charm because it comes once. I don't think I have lived any better than this. The smiles I see today relives my heart with all the fear I had of not giving my buddies the satisfaction.
People say you need oxygen to live, you need food to live. I say you need friends to live. When I write this, I write in pride not of me but of all my friends who ensure that I don't need a girlfriend or rather give me support to live. I would have died much earlier.
Life is too short to be pissed off all the time. Hate is a baggage. I don't think
I will ever forget these lines.
There are no ends to a white man's design. One has to sweat hard and make his collar dark. It is not the first time I realise that designing is thinking. And thinking is tough. And tough takes time. One should really know why he is drawing a line on a sheet. Because an architect's line can be a 16 storey high wall. Maybe.
10:26 AM 3/13/2005
STATISTICS
It says
My Friends (129).
106 Scraps.
19 Fans.
4474941 connections.
80% Smiley. 70% Icecube. 60% Heart.
I wondered why as a child I was attracted to watching Cricket though I never played it. And when I have lost interest in it, I have come to know the truth.
Statistics. The human mind is an intelligent box and Statistics quenches its in-thirst. And there is an additional in-advantage. Being quantitative, it is open to comparisions. The quantitative spirit kept alive by games like cricket was also explored in an active gaming stint by ESPN. There was a game Super Selector
of making personalised teams which garnered points as the teammates performed in the international circuit. And although a few won in this widely popular event, I think most of them played for their own pleasure. The pleasure of keeping up with statistics.
Why have we tried so much to put a grading system to evaluation and failed? Because, our mind doesn't accept the world without statistics where quantitative comparisions are not possible. We like to live in a world of numbers. I also feel another strange thing though. These statistics have their own life of interest.
They lose their charm after their life cycles.
Orkut is a popular idea because of the interest it generates in statistics when one joins. People keep on adding new friends, making new friends, adding (s)craps. And till one loses interest, it does enough to keep connected. Statistics can be a powerful marketing strategy tool apart from the curses managers give to
the statisticians.
And who is not interested in vital statistics? Though they also lose their charm after their life cycle.
Happy Counting.
1:07 AM 3/9/2005
Once you get out of shell it is a different world. No problem. You live in wild and enjoy. No problem. You get used to the wildness around. No Problem. But with this transition from Novice to Expert, you develop a it-cant-happen-to-me syndrome. Once I was a little kid in my own small world. But as I tasted things, touched, my world grew and wilderness crept in. I never felt it but I generated a it-cant-happen-to-me syndrome. And then one day my growing world blew off like a balloon. And all which was left was a smaller world suffocating me. And there are moments one does not have an alternative.
Do I have an alternative? When was the last time I thought I was living? I dont remember. When was the last time I thought I was dead? I remember. And thats more important to me now. Remembering the day I died. When I live, I am more human to think about living. So I dont think about it. When I die, it strikes me that I was living till now.
People say I am krazie. Oh yes. People say a lot of things. They scream, they shout, they yell, they chatter, they whisper. What if they say I am krazie?
6:06 PM 3/7/2005
Oh I love this.
I probably wept after.. Dont remember how much time. But it has been years. Life was so smooth for me, I never knew it could turn bumpy. And god knows. When I will lie on bed tonight, I will remember all the moments I have wept in life. But those very moments are holding me now. Are they smpathizing with me. Probably. Probably I don't need their support and so I smile. And It would be unfair to me if I dont laugh. Because it is the time to laugh on me. I will remember this day as a point in my life I turned. Which way is still to decide. The only thing I can assure me is that I will not be the same. Probably. I have always written in glory. For the first time, I am writing in remorse but I feel proud. God is great and so is UKB. And the good thing is I am not frustrated.
I dont think it is life as we know it. And I will know it never.
Oh I love this.
11:28 PM 3/1/2005
Song Woh mera _________ meri ________ mujhe lauta do
Status Wherez punctuality?
Color Red
Object Sandclock
Chatting on a messenger with proxies is like talking to a dumb phone which asks the questions u hv answered to in the last msg. I never knew on a local train, people are not that local. They are more different. One can look to them so closely that they look different. When looking on a crowd from distant, they seem so local, they seem so common. But in a local train, they seem so distinguished. But one common character. Disinterest. Indifference. Period.
1:21 AM 2/23/2005
Shisha shisha ho gaya, har dil yahan par toot kar,
Fevicol ki zaroorat hai, barobar barobar
Mit gayi rahein tamam , manzile –jafa ko hasil kar.
kuch ek lakeerein reh gayin, accha nahin tha eraser
Us dil ko tanha kar diya, kisi ne dil hi todkar.
gham toh is baat ka hai ki
doosre ke bill se khareedi gayi mere pyaar ko chhorkar
Zindagi ne ashk apne, khusboon mein guma diye,
jab lost and found mein report likhaayi toh mallu ke paas mile
Har who daman, jo hai mahka, ashk se hai tar-batar.
Ashk ke mahek ki kya bisaat Jovan Musk ho saath agar
Sab ke hi dil, ab nadil hai, sab jeena chahte hain bhulkar.
kyun jeena chahenge bhala bhul kar
kyunki mushkil hoga jeena, bhul ho gayi agar
Hum thahre par ik kashti par, kaise badle apna samandar.
badalne ki koshish na karen ghalib, aane wala hai bawandar
when the going gets tough, the tough gets going....
me going home....
6:40 PM 2/22/2005
Is it freedom
or rather freakdom
this world rusted with.
But it seems
She did enjoy
the red colour of rust.
Girl, Interrupted.
Are you Interrupted?
Sorry for the Interruption.
1:16 AM 2/22/2005
Door dikhaai parte hain,
manzil ke aashiyaan
Ek shaam dhalne ka intezaar
aakhir kya kar paayega
Kya parajay sweekar nahin
Is swabhimaani manav ko
haar kar bhi
jeet ki bhaasha nahin jaanta
Ek woh the jo
haar mein bhi jeet ke geet gaya karte the
1:04 AM 2/22/2005
.:o Morphogenesis of Forms o:.
Form is an envelope around the functions it stores and affects. The Genesis of Forms can only be realised through functions.
Functions
I never doubt em
Coz they don't come by themselves
shouting and screaming
in pain.
And they are.
Tortured by Architects
Mishandled by Programmers
they have their own stories to tell.
Do they need attention?
Yes. Do they want?
No. Thus the problem.
4:35 PM 2/21/2005
To be is difficult, not to be is still more. To be an addict may be related to Addiction. Period. Is To Pretend related to PreTension? It is a time in my life when the idea of pretending is offensive to my own self. Not Understandable. This is the philosophy of gamut of life. People pretend to live in a different shell than their self, that has so many reflection maps on its surface, u can never know what lies beneath.
12:43 AM 2/22/2005
Bulbs. They can give light or they can give food. But a slight altered version Blib can also control fluid or rather a Bachelor Course in Library Science. B.U.L.B.S. Before U Light, it Burns Superb. After that, no one knows. Fuses. Having Few Uses.
1:28 AM 2/15/05
Valentines O Valentines
Why dont I fall in love?
Coz love is not a ditch
but Amos Perros (Lovez bitch)!!
To be loved is not strange.. rather to love is strange. Is Love a feeling or rather a feel in. Whatever it may be, presently
it has got more a meaning feel out. Correctly said, it can lead to a fall out. And Love is divine. Ah yes, for some people,
love is not d wine but wine is d love.
5:09 PM 12/20/04
Things are pretty curvy here. If I like it straight, Do I deserve it? My mind is a Shawshank, I have to find a tunnel to freedom from inside of my prison.
Shawshank Redemption was a pretty decent movie. The sequence of Brooks' life after his release from Prison was made just too good. Prison is a home to him. World feels like an alley of confusion that tortures him day and night. Yes, Brooks was here and so was Red. The Statistics: It takes 16 years and 500 yards of shit to freedom.
The semester has been tough and tiring and lonesome. With others it wouldn't had been that difficult for a lazy person like me. Spring semester is always fine with the celebrations of spring.
All but its true
what I do is not what I want to do
Sometimes.
I have grown rugged
things don't flow smooth on me.
It causes turbulence
Sometimes.
Shapes of future taunt me
I revert to make rough lines in sand.
A wave gently rolls making it smooth
Sometimes.
People say Sunday is better, Monday is manic. I say Hallday is the best.Why doesn't it come every week? But then it has its charm because it comes once. I don't think I have lived any better than this. The smiles I see today relives my heart with all the fear I had of not giving my buddies the satisfaction.
People say you need oxygen to live, you need food to live. I say you need friends to live. When I write this, I write in pride not of me but of all my friends who ensure that I don't need a girlfriend or rather give me support to live. I would have died much earlier.
Life is too short to be pissed off all the time. Hate is a baggage. I don't think
I will ever forget these lines.
There are no ends to a white man's design. One has to sweat hard and make his collar dark. It is not the first time I realise that designing is thinking. And thinking is tough. And tough takes time. One should really know why he is drawing a line on a sheet. Because an architect's line can be a 16 storey high wall. Maybe.
10:26 AM 3/13/2005
STATISTICS
It says
My Friends (129).
106 Scraps.
19 Fans.
4474941 connections.
80% Smiley. 70% Icecube. 60% Heart.
I wondered why as a child I was attracted to watching Cricket though I never played it. And when I have lost interest in it, I have come to know the truth.
Statistics. The human mind is an intelligent box and Statistics quenches its in-thirst. And there is an additional in-advantage. Being quantitative, it is open to comparisions. The quantitative spirit kept alive by games like cricket was also explored in an active gaming stint by ESPN. There was a game Super Selector
of making personalised teams which garnered points as the teammates performed in the international circuit. And although a few won in this widely popular event, I think most of them played for their own pleasure. The pleasure of keeping up with statistics.
Why have we tried so much to put a grading system to evaluation and failed? Because, our mind doesn't accept the world without statistics where quantitative comparisions are not possible. We like to live in a world of numbers. I also feel another strange thing though. These statistics have their own life of interest.
They lose their charm after their life cycles.
Orkut is a popular idea because of the interest it generates in statistics when one joins. People keep on adding new friends, making new friends, adding (s)craps. And till one loses interest, it does enough to keep connected. Statistics can be a powerful marketing strategy tool apart from the curses managers give to
the statisticians.
And who is not interested in vital statistics? Though they also lose their charm after their life cycle.
Happy Counting.
1:07 AM 3/9/2005
Once you get out of shell it is a different world. No problem. You live in wild and enjoy. No problem. You get used to the wildness around. No Problem. But with this transition from Novice to Expert, you develop a it-cant-happen-to-me syndrome. Once I was a little kid in my own small world. But as I tasted things, touched, my world grew and wilderness crept in. I never felt it but I generated a it-cant-happen-to-me syndrome. And then one day my growing world blew off like a balloon. And all which was left was a smaller world suffocating me. And there are moments one does not have an alternative.
Do I have an alternative? When was the last time I thought I was living? I dont remember. When was the last time I thought I was dead? I remember. And thats more important to me now. Remembering the day I died. When I live, I am more human to think about living. So I dont think about it. When I die, it strikes me that I was living till now.
People say I am krazie. Oh yes. People say a lot of things. They scream, they shout, they yell, they chatter, they whisper. What if they say I am krazie?
6:06 PM 3/7/2005
Oh I love this.
I probably wept after.. Dont remember how much time. But it has been years. Life was so smooth for me, I never knew it could turn bumpy. And god knows. When I will lie on bed tonight, I will remember all the moments I have wept in life. But those very moments are holding me now. Are they smpathizing with me. Probably. Probably I don't need their support and so I smile. And It would be unfair to me if I dont laugh. Because it is the time to laugh on me. I will remember this day as a point in my life I turned. Which way is still to decide. The only thing I can assure me is that I will not be the same. Probably. I have always written in glory. For the first time, I am writing in remorse but I feel proud. God is great and so is UKB. And the good thing is I am not frustrated.
I dont think it is life as we know it. And I will know it never.
Oh I love this.
11:28 PM 3/1/2005
Song Woh mera _________ meri ________ mujhe lauta do
Status Wherez punctuality?
Color Red
Object Sandclock
Chatting on a messenger with proxies is like talking to a dumb phone which asks the questions u hv answered to in the last msg. I never knew on a local train, people are not that local. They are more different. One can look to them so closely that they look different. When looking on a crowd from distant, they seem so local, they seem so common. But in a local train, they seem so distinguished. But one common character. Disinterest. Indifference. Period.
1:21 AM 2/23/2005
Shisha shisha ho gaya, har dil yahan par toot kar,
Fevicol ki zaroorat hai, barobar barobar
Mit gayi rahein tamam , manzile –jafa ko hasil kar.
kuch ek lakeerein reh gayin, accha nahin tha eraser
Us dil ko tanha kar diya, kisi ne dil hi todkar.
gham toh is baat ka hai ki
doosre ke bill se khareedi gayi mere pyaar ko chhorkar
Zindagi ne ashk apne, khusboon mein guma diye,
jab lost and found mein report likhaayi toh mallu ke paas mile
Har who daman, jo hai mahka, ashk se hai tar-batar.
Ashk ke mahek ki kya bisaat Jovan Musk ho saath agar
Sab ke hi dil, ab nadil hai, sab jeena chahte hain bhulkar.
kyun jeena chahenge bhala bhul kar
kyunki mushkil hoga jeena, bhul ho gayi agar
Hum thahre par ik kashti par, kaise badle apna samandar.
badalne ki koshish na karen ghalib, aane wala hai bawandar
when the going gets tough, the tough gets going....
me going home....
6:40 PM 2/22/2005
Is it freedom
or rather freakdom
this world rusted with.
But it seems
She did enjoy
the red colour of rust.
Girl, Interrupted.
Are you Interrupted?
Sorry for the Interruption.
1:16 AM 2/22/2005
Door dikhaai parte hain,
manzil ke aashiyaan
Ek shaam dhalne ka intezaar
aakhir kya kar paayega
Kya parajay sweekar nahin
Is swabhimaani manav ko
haar kar bhi
jeet ki bhaasha nahin jaanta
Ek woh the jo
haar mein bhi jeet ke geet gaya karte the
1:04 AM 2/22/2005
.:o Morphogenesis of Forms o:.
Form is an envelope around the functions it stores and affects. The Genesis of Forms can only be realised through functions.
Functions
I never doubt em
Coz they don't come by themselves
shouting and screaming
in pain.
And they are.
Tortured by Architects
Mishandled by Programmers
they have their own stories to tell.
Do they need attention?
Yes. Do they want?
No. Thus the problem.
4:35 PM 2/21/2005
To be is difficult, not to be is still more. To be an addict may be related to Addiction. Period. Is To Pretend related to PreTension? It is a time in my life when the idea of pretending is offensive to my own self. Not Understandable. This is the philosophy of gamut of life. People pretend to live in a different shell than their self, that has so many reflection maps on its surface, u can never know what lies beneath.
12:43 AM 2/22/2005
Bulbs. They can give light or they can give food. But a slight altered version Blib can also control fluid or rather a Bachelor Course in Library Science. B.U.L.B.S. Before U Light, it Burns Superb. After that, no one knows. Fuses. Having Few Uses.
1:28 AM 2/15/05
Valentines O Valentines
Why dont I fall in love?
Coz love is not a ditch
but Amos Perros (Lovez bitch)!!
To be loved is not strange.. rather to love is strange. Is Love a feeling or rather a feel in. Whatever it may be, presently
it has got more a meaning feel out. Correctly said, it can lead to a fall out. And Love is divine. Ah yes, for some people,
love is not d wine but wine is d love.
5:09 PM 12/20/04
Things are pretty curvy here. If I like it straight, Do I deserve it? My mind is a Shawshank, I have to find a tunnel to freedom from inside of my prison.
Shawshank Redemption was a pretty decent movie. The sequence of Brooks' life after his release from Prison was made just too good. Prison is a home to him. World feels like an alley of confusion that tortures him day and night. Yes, Brooks was here and so was Red. The Statistics: It takes 16 years and 500 yards of shit to freedom.
The semester has been tough and tiring and lonesome. With others it wouldn't had been that difficult for a lazy person like me. Spring semester is always fine with the celebrations of spring.
All but its true
what I do is not what I want to do
Sometimes.
I have grown rugged
things don't flow smooth on me.
It causes turbulence
Sometimes.
Shapes of future taunt me
I revert to make rough lines in sand.
A wave gently rolls making it smooth
Sometimes.
Comments
Kya yaar kya tu architect ban raha hai.. Lekhak ban jaa hit ho jaayega
Anyways good job.. bas yaar mera pic thoda change kar ganda lag raha hai.
waise...about ur blogs..... really gr8 yaar ....tere paas skills ki kahin koi kami nahi hai....
waise...about ur blogs..... really gr8 yaar ....tere paas skills ki kahin koi kami nahi hai....