Go Figure

A part of me has always been a little peeved as to the fact that all my (attempts at) prose have always been in English. I have always marveled at people who write beautifully in Hindi making full use of the nuances of the language. So for all those times when I have wondered WHY I cant pen down something in Hindi:

Kabhi Kabhi (Sometimes)
Yaadein Aati Rahein (Memories kept coming back to me)
Fir bhi (Still)
Hum tum rahe (You and I remain)
Ajnabee (Strangers)

Two things come out very clearly out of the above. Firstly at least now we all know WHY :) and secondly I wont die wondering. Sorry for subjecting one and all to my first and last pathetic attempt at it.

Life is beautiful

Most of us have been brought up being told to respect the sanctity of life and that we don’t have any right to take away any individual’s right to live. However as a kid as I tried to grasp the complex issues of life, death and other issues in that ballpark I remember noticing many divisions created by man concerning this very simple rule for the sake of our convenience that have probably blurred as I have grown older. I used to wonder what gave man the right to consider the human life as the most important life form in the entire chain of species. I used to think if being at the top rung of development gave us a right to classify and rank life and say that the life of a person is more important than that of chicken, cow, deer or even an insect. How can we scream murder at the event of a death of a human being and still not bat an eye lid when announcing hunting seasons across the globe for pleasure, or squashing a bug or a mosquito in our living room or even while eating non-veg during various meals? How does the eating of plants after killing them place the vegetarians on a higher moral ground to read out lectures to the non vegetarians? How can a killing of bugs in houses by use of pesticides be differentiated from the mass genocides in various countries by a hate propaganda driven government? Should the killing of an ant squashed beneath some kid’s feet attract lesser attention that the death of some gangster shot dead by a stray bullet just because the former doesn’t stare us in the face? For that matter should the assassination of a world leader attract more of our attention span than say the death of a child after starving from hunger in a third world country?
Just some points to ponder over as I tried to get through my initial observation as to how we have placed the human life above all other life forms that have co existed with us for ages even though we all were probably treated to our share of lessons on how a life is a life no matter who it belongs to.

P.S. On a lighter note have any of you ever wondered that even though we are told that the soul never dies and its only the human body that dies, HOW the world population keeps on burgeoning by every passing minute?

Posers and Clickers

After the last post and an inexplicable global out pour of sympathy and pity (which is totally welcome btw) for me I have decided to stay away from writing any posts for a while which might be deemed as remotely relating to my personal life :).
For all those who think I am here to start a debate on digital cameras vs. the film cameras or the merits of a photo albums as against the digital picture library you couldn’t be more wrong as right now right here I will TELL you digital cameras are the best thing to have happened to the world of cameras since the invention of the ………camera. Also photo albums will always continue to hold an old school charm over the digital pictures. Now that I am very that we are on the same page with regard to the above issues I will come back to the 3 things that constitute the making of a photograph i.e. a poser, a clicker and a ….camera. What is that again…..we have discussed that before. Oh ok all the more better as I can go ahead and address some real issues with the rest of this post now. So returning to the real issues we all are familiar with the posers and clickers of our own treasured world of photographs. The posers are people you will invariably find part of every possible picture that you might possess provided that he was within a one mile radius of the pic being taken. It does not matter whether he/she is a 6 month old toddler or a 60 year old veteran, whether the picture is taken atop the Mt. Everest or under the depths of the pacific, whether they are dressed up in a tux or barely finding time to put on their birthday suits, they will always find time to make it to the picture and beam a 400watt dazzler rendering all you flashes redundant. These are people who have hypersensitive ears that prick up at the sound of a camera click and possess superhuman powers to put in just in time dives in front of flashing cameras that would even put Jonty Rhodes to shame. These people are often mistaken to be the birthday boy/girl at birthday parties, the most active and ever present member of vacations, what the hell they can even be often confused as the only ones celebrating New Year on those New Year parties. On the other hand of the spectrum are the clickers a breed who continued absence from all pics leaves them fielding questions on what they have doing all these years? They are the reclusive sort who would much rather prefer a behind the scene role wielding the camera. These people will hold a mysterious majority possession of all those dream cameras that you drool over after those commercials. They have all the possible concepts about lighting, camera angles and all other possible facets of photography figured out already. They will often to found in every tenth picture sporting an awkward face forming part of the foreground.
The lines between the posers and clickers are not very hard and fast and blur on a lot of occasions with not the best of results necessarily. A poser will avoid being a clicker at most times deliberately leaving behind his own camera home to avoid missing out on being part of pics. However occasions when a poser if forced to be a clicker via means of threat or emotional blackmail will result in a lot of deliberate out of focus and horrible set of pics to avoid any such future torture. In the case of a role reversal a clicker will show up in pics sporting a very very rusted and not so toothy smile and a general impression that he/she would have given his/her right hand off to be anywhere else other than the pic.
So in this world divided into posers and clickers which camp do you stand in?, unless of course if you are a camera ……….Sorry bad joke :)

Estranged

Here's a follow up post on acrostics.

Emptiness threatens to turn all encompassing
Subservient as a means to the end
There's no love lost
Ripples of a love that has been lost
And to think someone said it's all fair
Now one should look to the future they say
Ghosts of the past haunt me every second
Endlessly I would rather die trying
Definitely preferable than being eaten up alive

Toy Story 3

After surprisingly having made a lot of sense with my last post its time I pip the other end of the scale with some unmitigated kitsch.

One day the three of us decided to fly off the shelf
With great pride I present the adventures of I, me and myself
First on my way there was this duh called George Bush
He couldn’t even speak properly I screamed Shhhhhhh
Next on my way I saw this kid known as Harry Potter
He was worried though something abt all the competition from LOTR
Anyways I moved along till I saw this Aishwarya Rai
Must say I was dazed till I saw her pet monkey Vivek Oberoi
Heartbroken I reached some caves belonging to an Osama Bin Laden
Gosh he looked mean, I kicked is ass as he kept crying for pardon
This was all there was of my first adventure
However I shall be back if this journey finds favor
Your comments are the sponsors keep em flowing
So my journey around the world can keep on going

S W A D E S

I love that every second person on the street is a walking map quest
I love that the traffic cop round the corner let me off two days in a row for not wearing the helmet after checking the empty contents of my wallet
I love it when my mom cribs about my neighbors not returning her utensils
I love it when mommy makes sure she sends over the every bowl of new dish she tries out to my neighbors
I love it when my mom tells my maid she’s gonna cut her money for the days she doesn’t show up for work
I love it when she makes she adds a Diwali bonus on top of the complete maid's salary at the end of the month
I love that my neighbor’s kid spends more time in my house than his own
I love that everyone on my floor in my apartments is like one big family
I love it that everyone waves back to school kids waving from their school buses
I love it when every second car I ask a lift from stops over readily (even more when the driver is a pretty female)
I love that I can always run next door to ask for curd or salt or sugar with a small bowl in my hand
I love it that I’ve never missed a day of school the days I missed the bus and my dad was on tour thanks to my neighbors
I love that the owner of the house whose window panes we broke the previous day is playing cricket with us the next day
I love it that I have no idea how many friends of mine are Hindus, Muslims, Christians or Sikhs
I love it when I see crowds in the stadium give a rival team a standing ovation during their victory lap after a cricket match
I love it that the poor water vendor makes sure he gives out a free glass of water to the street side beggar
I love when the neighborhood ruffian makes sure he gives extra breathing room for the old lady standing by him in a crowded bus
I love it when a critical accident victim doesn’t always have to depend on the blood bank for a bottle of blood to live
I love it when I see this pony tailed guy with 6 piercings bends down to touch his elderly’s feet at the airport
I love it when the neighborhood toughie stand in a corner and feed stray dogs biscuits when no one’s watching
I love that I don’t need stupid excuses like thanksgiving and Christmas to get together and meet up with my family
I love it that even at 2 in the night standing alone in the middle of a lonely alley I feel at HOME

This post is inspired by all the above and a million other reasons which make India the best country in the world and Delhi the best place to be in the world, Pointy's latest post, all the emotions that come to the surface whenever I listen to 'Ye Jo Des Hai Tera' and the sickness that needs to be classified as the most communicable and fastest spreading one - homesickness.

Life's Mastercard

Boarding the 10 am route no. 623 everyday: Rs.8
A bunch of flowers along with a box of chocolates: Rs.75
Bribing the girl's hostel guard for 3 years: Rs. 1,500
Small marriage reception consisting of friends: Rs.3,700
Honeymoon in the backwaters of the Venice of the east: Rs.42,000
Four months of court hearings for alimony settlement: Rs.5,00,000
Waking up everyday hoping to find her on her side of the bed: Priceless

Wats cooking !

I remember back in 3rd or 4th grade having made fun of this guy in my class when he went ‘My mom is a good cooker’. I must have hurt him real bad or something because I am sure he cursed me such that the words ‘My mom is a good cook’ (as he stood corrected thereafter) have come to haunt every passing day of my life for the past two and a half years. As I left the comforts of my home I discovered that I didn’t really cover myself in glory when it came down to cooking. I mean leave aside the fact that my mom really kick ass any day anytime anywhere when it comes down to cooking and that I even hung around the kitchen a lot more than my brother (ah ok I will admit it was for grabbing the first hot paranthas off the pan or to lick away the cake mix off the beater or something), the plain fact was that I just couldn’t cook to save my life at that time. I mean back in India I used to look at those cooking shows disdainfully as to how people could make a living just cooking up stuff on TV and then getting to eat it too. I mean what was all that, it was a literal TV telecast of the saying baking your cake and eating it too and well while you are at it please collect your paycheck on your way out too. Also I could never understand why they always would never give out the correct amount of salt to be put in the stuff they prepared on TV always going 'salt as per taste' (or swad anusar as I recall). I mean what was with that, there’s always a right amount of salt that needs to be put in any dish and that is exactly why you have the salt mixed in all dishes served to you at restaurant and nobody gives out salt pouches along with served dishes. Anyways I realized pretty soon that this attitude had not stood me in good stead as I set down to prepare my first meal after coming to States.
So I decided to take it easy with my first outing and went in for a real easy dish on the Indian cuisine – the khichri (for the uninitiated it is a simple steamed mixture of rice and pulses). So while you might think that I should have managed to pull it off without a hitch and set myself on the road to becoming the best cooks ever I just have one special tip. You never ever make khichri with something that physically resembles salt but is quite the opposite chemically and in taste. Well it wasn’t as bad as you are picturing it in your mind, I somehow managed to salvage the dish. Anyways after my baptism by fire I have practiced hard over the past 2 off years at this art (the trick is to always have a taster in place who is not really 'you' :) ) and I have gotten better at it. Unfortunately I realize most of my fellow men are not quite so blessed with that kind of time or manpower to bump away as testers, or even blessed with skills to pick up the tricks of the trade so fast. So I just thought it would be fitting if I ended this post with tricks leant on my journey on how they can recover their food in case they have thrown in an extra ton of salt in it. I know this may sound like a piece of cake too all you females out there but do you realize that there are millions of guys in this world cooking for themselves who go hungry for over 100 reasons (out of which none match the reasons for which ppl in Somalia go hungry and that in itself speaks a lot). Well so back to my master class you can always go for the tried and tested adding another ton of water and telling your room mates that you were extra considerate in preparing curry for them. Another additive that can be used in these scenarios is curd, it is absolutely undetectable in the end result and works like a charm. The third and my favorite technique is to add another ton of chili powder. Any person eating this dish in its eventuality goes numb in the tongue after the first bite itself and even in case he survives the first bite he always drinks tons of water, end result being a relatively appreciative room mate who feel pretty full (so what if it’s just on water).
Bon appetite ppl (pray I can get to the safe comforts of my Mommy’s cooking sometime soon) :(

Confessions

I cherish the moments when we stand with each other
I cherish the moments when we stand up for each other
I cherish the moments when we stand by each other
In fact you know what
I even cherish the moments when we can’t stand each other

World's first blog story (6)

You can read the complete rules of the blog story tag at Rohan's blog, where every tagged blogger adds his or her own twists to the tale, and the story progresses in this manner. Here's my bit in bold.

He had always known that silence spoke volumes, unfortunately it was in a language he failed to decipher on most occasions. A long pause. He stared for what seemed liked ages. It made little sense. May be it wasn't meant to be. He shrugged and looked at his friend. The pregnant silence was ruptured by his friends intermittent sobbing. Today was Diwali, it was supposed to be the "Festival of Lights", but things were different tonight. "Lights out", yelled the Jailor. The lights went out and the virgin night was silent and dark again. But, then was he reminded of his lover whose murder brought him here. All of a sudden, the summer heat in the cell, felt dreadfully cold, when, every moment of his past life flashed in front of his eyes as he stared at the writings on the wall. It was scribbled all over, by previous inmates of the cell. Murderers, as they called them. But maybe there were not murderers, he thought, just like him. Maybe they were just misunderstood. After all, he had to kill her, so he could be sure, that she would never feel pain again.
He had loved her from the moment he gazed into those blue green eyes, he had loved her when those very eyes had looked at him beseechingly for the last time and he had loved her for every passing second in between. But all this was lost on the anti euthanasia lobby who had vehemently screamed murder as his case had hit the headlines.

Didn't realise the tag would find its way back home soon. The story is being actively tracked at this blog for all those who care to know. I also tag Sagnik to take on this story further.

World's first blog story

I guess we have all seen the power of the blogging community whose full force was felt recently during the IIPM fiasco. As I fully realized the reach of the blogosphere I thought that I should use it in a constructive fashion and combine it with the tagging phenomenon to come up with the world’s first blog story. Every member on the tag chain gets to pen down a line in this story after reproducing the text verbatim as it has reached him/her along with the name of the person that tagged him/her. Everyone after penning down their line gets to tag one person but make sure the person you tag is a regular visitor to your blog and doesn’t take ages to do his share of the story as in case a lax occurs in the chain the story gets held. This is not a one time only tag so any person on the chain once can be tagged again if desired. The end result should be a pretty big blog story which propagates around the world with everyone contributing their share of their creative juices. The great thing is that the chain can be easily followed forward or backwards from absolutely any blog that is part of the chain and is good fun coz everyone just has to write one measly line. Make sure you reproduce the above text whenever you add your bit so that everyone understands the whole concept behind this tag. So well here’s the first line.

He had always known that silence spoke volumes, unfortunately it was in a language he failed to decipher on most occasions.

And well I also get the honor of making the first tag. So Totti consider yourself tagged do write asap (its critical to this tag’s success remember).

Happy Diwali to all of you.

P.S. A blog reader could do with some help on the evolution and status of English slang. Ppl interested in helping out can go through the last 2-3 comments of the previous post and volunteer accordingly.

The story continues......

I had kind of forgotten about this piece of fiction I was writing until reminded of it recently so the story continues here.

Sally: So what do you do other than ask waitresses to join you for breakfast.
Harry: Oh that's just a thing on the side, only for Mondays you see.
Sally: Impressive the resume keeps on getting better by the minute.
Harry: Add my immunity to sarcasm to the list by the way? Anyways how was your weekend?
Sally: The usual laced with all the mundanities of my life. How was yours?
Harry: Nothing too exciting, went camping with a bunch of friends.
Sally: Hey that sounds likes fun, I've actually never gone camping.
Harry: I uess its ok, hey what have you been drawing on that napkin, looks like we have quite an artist here.
Sally: Ah its nothing
Harry: No really you are pretty good. I suck at art, I used to be one of those kids who couldn't even draw that house beneath the mountains from which the sun is rising drawing properly
Sally: Everybody has their own thing, you have the survival instinct from that camping thing. I personally could never survive the jungle.
Harry: Well you could mebbe hunt down some prey with your paint brushes and pencils
Sally: Aww but I am vegetarian.
Harry: Well then mebbe you can do portraits of lions and bears and ask them to repay you in kind with fruits and vegetables then.
Sally: Yeah sounds like an idea
Harry: You better be good, I have heard those bears are kinda touchy :)

The Century

As any self respecting cricketer will tell you the century is a very important landmark in the history of well......absolutely anything. So as this blog turns a 100 posts old I shall give you all a rundown of the history of this blog.

It all began inspired by a tree of thoughts in the rundown shambles of rediff blogs where it was battle of me against my self. All this while loads of people had continued unnoticed and as I read through their thoughts and confessions that I asked myself who is sane after all? Anyways I started penning down my random thoughts from a confused mind in apparent zero noise. My initial writings were as random as a spider on a keyboard but slowly but steadily my random thoughts I moved onto a pattern discussing the days of our lives as life means drama. That’s when the blog became a chimera like monster spewing off opinions and thoughts questioning times when things didn’t make sense or did they? I gradually began to thread the broken verses of life and things seemed clearer as I began to enjoy it all. I had to it was jus’(so much)fun. So many people joined in with their stimulating vibes along the way and soon I was on cloud nine. And even though I fall into my bouts of blogger’s blocks (U should know that the lazy shall inherit the earth btw) the writing is on the wall this blog is here to stay.

"Main akela hi chala tha janibe-e-manzil magar Log sath aate gaye aur karavan banta gaya" ('I started all alone towards the goal/ (but) people kept joining and it began to turn into a caravan')
By Majrooh Sultanpuri

My sincerest apologies to anyone who frequents this blog and whom I might have accidentally missed out in that collection.

The sequel

Even thought I wasnt so big on the 55 word poem tag I did an off the cuff bit in the comments section in response to this post , later decided that I might as well as put it up on my blog.

Buried my emotions
Returned to my life
Some things aren't meant 2b
She was my brother's wife

Soon the spark went out
They were constant fights
And we made a connection
Though I knew it wasnt right

They frown upon us
My brother calls me a rogue
I know I've found the one
Anyways lesbianism is in vogue

There's my shot at 55 with a twist :). Shall not be tagging anyone, ppl visiting this blog are welcome to come up with their own versions.

An excercise in nothingness

Its was all around there was so much talk
It sent me thinking what if I fell prey to the blogger’s block
If you got pressing matters you better head your way
Coz in this post I must warn you I have nothing to say
Would I waste a post discussing the ‘phenom’
Or would I just hit back with loads of posts packed with venom
Would I like others hope to bag a tag
Would I just spew crap and just get my first flag
Guys I know this is heading nowhere you need not read any further
Get back to your important lives before you scream murder
May be I will discuss a favorite movie or a song
Mebbe just write some crap and hope ppl play along
Guess I could compose some prose
Or just give all those cricket fans their regular dose
This is a post about nothing, nothing’s new
I had warned you, guess curiosity got the better of you
Don’t blame me my drafts were out of stock
So this was the one way I could overcome the blogger’s block :)

Better and Best

Have you wondered why there’s this extra bit of magic in all those good things when they happen to us the first time around. Picture your best friend dreamily recalling his first love over a coffee, or your mom as she gets all animated when she talks about the first steps you walked as a toddler, or your colleague at office recalling the time when she got a promotion, or even things as trivial as the time when you recall your first snowfall or the first time when you went home to your overjoyed family holding a trophy in your hand. All these occasions always seem to hold a special place in your life and whenever you remember them the cobwebs somehow seem to disappear from your memory and the flashbacks always seem so much less hazy. For a lot of us these things will happen again for some of us they won’t but the point is these things that hold a special place in our life give us most joy and are the best the first time around and no wonder they sit on such a high pedestal in our collection of memories.
On the other hand all the bad things in life be it the time you had your first heartbreak, or the first time you left home for the first time, or even something as extreme as the time you heard about the death of a near one hurt so much the first time around. They give you most grief because they catch you unprepared for such an adversity as you wallow in your grief. But note how much better you handle such situations the second time around. I don’t know if its something about your mind that steels you the second time but its always better the second time around.
This leads me to conclude that the good things in life are the best the first time around while all the bad things that happen to us are better the second time around.

College tales

He sat there in his hostel room playing what he decided would be last game of cards before he called it a day. As he was mid way through the game he heard his cell beep announcing a new message. He lifted his phone half expecting to see some stupid fwd but what he saw was to change this night into one wild ride.
This is Sxxxxx here I m msgin u from my new no. there’s big trouble at the girl’s hostel need help
He checked his watch that ticked a lil over 1 in the night as he disbelievingly checked the msg again. He had secretly nursed a crush on this female for years and mebbe this was his big break. He made a quick exit from his room telling the guys present there that his brother had had an accident and he had to rush out. As he rushed out from the boy’s hostel he texted back.
I am on my way wats the big problem
As he trudged towards the girl’s hostel a kilometer away he got a text back saying.
A big bitchfest has broken out at the hostel and my room’s been locked from outside.
On receiving this message he quickened his steps hoping no physical harm would come to her. He called her up but his calls were unanswered for some reason. As he tried to send another message he got a call from her but it got disconnected before he could answer it. Stupid networks he thought to himself. He texted her anyways saying
Keep calm I am halfway there just stay inside your room.
He got another call from her but that too died out before he could answer it. He was getting really concerned about her as she hadn’t msged back. He decided to msg her back.
I cant pick ur calls, getting disconnected after just one ring.
As he reached halfway he crossed a bunch of potbellied guards who he knew would be nothing but trouble. The girl’s hostel had a strict curfew policy for guy’s venturing anywhere nearby after 10 and this was already 3.5 hours past curfew. He however walked upto them hoping he would calmly explain the situation and then let himself pass through them eventually. However they seemed in no mood to listen and they just grew more agitated with every passing minute asking him to return to the guy’s hostel in no unclear words. Just then he got another message.
I thought I could bank on you but I don’t think u r gonna make it
This just made his resolve stronger and he got into a big argument with the guards which eventually ended with him getting some series ass whooping from the sticks with which the guards zealously guarded the hostel. Sore assed and heartbroken he eventually beat a retreat back to his own hostel after sending in one final message.
I really tried my best to come over but the guards just wont let me through. Do you want me to call up your hostel warden or the Director or something.
He got a hasty reply to that message which said
No no don’t do that, that wont be necessary we’ll try and work something out here
So he trudged back to his hostel and stayed up most of the night thinking about he have been a real hero tonight to the one that mattered had those stupid guards not interfered. Anyways he got up in time to catch breakfast in the mess with his friends. It was then that he heard a remark that made his ears perk up.
“You know what I think they should put some cushions up on these mess chairs, it would be a lot easier on some sore asses.”
An all knowing smile broke out at the table buried in
“Wtf Rohan that was really underhanded. You are going to hell for this you @$##$$####@%$%%^^^^&%$%#%##%%$”

This was easily one of my most memorable days of my hostel days when we made this guy in our block walk all the way to the girl’s hostel using just a stupid cellphone while tailing him all this while with a big bunch of ppl hidden behing the trees and shrubs on the college campus. Sure it did cost us some money on those msges but it was worth every penny and eventually we had quite a story to tell backed up with all those text msges we had on our phone as evidence. Don’t feel too sorry for the guy he would never have spoken to her anyways, he probably did get to talk to her once or twice recounting this very incident for all you know :)

Passing thought part trois

Make sure you know what you are running for so as you know to stop in case you just happen to stumble over it sometime.

An uneasy truce

Remember the times when we as kids used to fight, a fight in which we used to give our all clawing away with our puny paws thinking you were just one knockout punch away from ending the bout when the fight used to be imperceptibly stopped by an over anxious teacher or parent. You very invariably made part of a begrudging handshake or a hug during which you pressed so hard hoping to show the other who was the boss. Even though the things ended amicably according to the ‘pokey nosed’ teacher or parent wit both engaging parties claiming moral victory most bystander somehow knew the real fight was just around the corner with this just being the lull before the real storm. One couldn’t help but come off with the same feeling as one watched the events unfold over the scene of Indian cricket earlier this week. As Greg Chappell (GC) and Saurav Ganguly (SG) squabbled like two schoolboys both claiming to be aggrieved parties in a war of egos that threatened to blow away the future of an already struggling Indian cricket team. I shall no be discussing the lead up to the turn of events as enough has been said and written about it already. However it would hurt to mention that this excess of media insight into the discussions of a dressing room is what had led to this scenario in the first place. The media was used a weapon of choice by both sides to gain new allies (read Harbhajan Singh and other team members and other former cricketers) and that eventually led to a showdown in this week’s BCCI’s review meeting. Now for a mute spectator and passionate Indian cricket follower and well wisher this was a highly anticipated event as it would decide the direction in which Indian cricket would be going because in the view of the evidence on display one of parties would be right and the other one wrong. It was more a question of deliberating who was right and who was wrong thus doing away with the wrong party. Therefore what eventually prevailed with the BCCI mediating on an uneasy truce between GC and SG saying that said the Board asked the coach and captain to work mutually and maintain a working relationship. The board added that after discussions with the two both agreed to do for the betterment of the game in India. Personally this was the worse thing that could have happened in the light of the situation. I personally was hoping that Ganguly would be sacked in the light of his recent record and lack of ability to maintain discipline asked by GC and either Sehwag or Dravid be appointed in his place. I would have even swallowed the other scenario in which GC was sacked and another search begun for a replacement coach so that SG and the new coach could begin afresh. But what happened was something that had not been imagined in my worst of nightmares with a compromise situation being worked out between the two parties. It is very hard to imagine that they ever will be able to work in a comfortable equation with each other considering the accusations they leveled against each other recently. Also considering their egos (and remember we are talking superstar egos here) they probably will never forgive each other for what has just happened. I can almost imagine the two wanting to jump for joy after the next big Indian victory and rushing towards each other. Then suddenly in the wake of a rush of bad memories their joy will be blocked out as they will just utter a few congratulatory notes and end with a civil handshake instead of a more spur of the moment joyous hug. And I as a bystander know that the real fight is probably just around the corner and this is just the lull before the real storm.

Reactive prose

Awritee the sequel to Reactive prose has finally arrived. So all those who have been waited with bated breath (I can almost imagine a chorus of ‘yeah right’) read on, and those who haven’t you can read on too because it just lends credence to the theory that sequels are never quite good as the original thing :)

A: it’s been an odd sorta day
B: I wish it were a holiday
A: but then I wish that all the time
B: if I could drown myself in wine
A: wine doesn’t solve any problems but so doesn’t milk
B: and she looked lovely in silk
(after this line I laughed so hard that I almost fell off my chair and so any lines hereon don’t have any kinda accountability to its composer)
A: how is that ever supposed to make sense
B: y is it making u tense
A: this doesn’t look half as good as the first time
A: mebbe coz u r coming up with the 2nd line
(Even though that was outta turn I just couldn’t miss out on adding that, but anyways the gentleman that I am I let B have the last word)
B: oh u are so divine (???????????)

For those of you unfamiliar with this style of post it happens to be another line by line reproduction of a chat session I had with a friend of mine recently as we tried to engage in some poetic ‘jugalbandi’ with yours truly playing ‘A’ this time.