n I m talkin

Of all the intermittent liaisons,

I have in my life,

The one which is the purest,

Is the one i have with myself.

Reason specified for this is the fact that I am at war with myself. 

I don't know why but there are fallacies in my way of thinking or the way of my conduct, at the end of the day I sleep with a grudge that I could not make it a better day, a better life. 

Riding along the wave made by the sudden gushes of luck. Learnt how to make out when the luck is by my side and how to exploit it. Someday I'll run out of it. That day there will be no wave. Now the question is do I really want to go towards the shore or anchor myself in the middle of the ocean. 

...contd...

time of my life

Its sad !

I have fever, I am defunct right now. 

just like that, I think

I am so completely judged and understood by 'the people' that I can't even exercise my right to say 'mis-judged' and 'mis-understood'... And certainly I am not enjoying it.

PS:

Need to be with mself for some time, or else I will do something funny.

A Good Day's Work..

The purpose behind this writing habit is not my habit but this realization that I can express myself without any interruption.


There is this fact file which I want you guys to know:

I am an extrovert person most time of the day.
And I love it.
When I am talking I need people to pay attention.
And, if I get slightest hint that they are not paying attention then I stop with sarcasm. Also I talk a lot about things which are of no importance. So I assume that I talk to bore people around me, so that one day they realize that they bore me with their sheer presence. It sucks to have boring people around and to make the matter worse for them I speak and I speak a lot.

Someone said in some movie about something that “Life is a box full of chocolate”. And I wonder if my life was a box full of ‘what’? Toys, dreams, day-dreams, girls, report cards, cigarette, chicken, I mean whatever it was filled with. It was full of something or the other. Who gives a rat’s ass to that?

Today I was thinking about this city.

Bangalore is not a city. It’s an industry at its best diversification. I see trucks carrying load, loads of people being carried away in cabs, buses, motor bikes etc. everyone is going somewhere. Software people work for other industries, I make clothes for these geeks, and then I earn profit and keep it in a bank running on their software. And those geeks keep their money in that bank too and then I make garments for those bankers too. Everyone is working for everyone, and I am working for everyone, putting their identity on their chest or sleeve or both (I am into customized apparel business).


At times I get great ideas and huge inspiration to write about something and then at the same time something happens, like getting a new work load or some good friend coming up online and I give a sacrifice. I don’t write. Other time I am on my way to somewhere and this chain of event entices my taste bud for writing but I don’t have any tool for that. (Trust me guys I am never going to fall for mobile blogging)

So here my blog is. A collection of rare permutation and combination (add some advance probability to that), when I have this urge, inspiration from nothingness of my life, and a computer, net connection, electricity, free time, free mind, good day at office, nice dinner, few good calls, no alcohol, dark room, silent night, my roommates not watching porn, comfortable chair, Simon and Garfunkel playing some classic rock for me. Almost everything is in favor.

Time to sleep.



Ps:
Today I was so happy in morning, I woke up just like I used to in school time. Eyes shut, preparing myself for the day in a trance, brushing, combing, bathing all in a trance.

Weighty Issues :)

I am not a fat guy by any means, but when I came to Bangalore then my weight started rocketing from sub-65 kg to 70+ kgs. Then in between I made two trips back home that added another few kilos. So when it seemed that I’ll cross that dreaded 80-mark (standing at 175 cms) then the alarm went off. I started keeping some control on my food habits. The reason why it started upscale in the first place is- I was studying down south for last four years eating all that canteen and bahar ka khana and with a limited budget. Then when we came to Bangalore we had ample money, a cook from Bihar and lots of reason to become lethargic. So we started gluttony. And I became a little over weight. Now and then it keeps coming back to my mind. I have reduced my self to 72 kg and I am trying get near the lean body mass. Happy me!

TARGET: again a 65 kg guy. ;)

ps:
I don't want to wake up early.
I don't want to go to gym.
I don't want to go for swimming.
I don't want to do yoga (hail baba)
I don't want to do anything after the office hours.
I love sleeping.
I love eating good food.
I need help (Loooser)

Dated: 27th of Sept. 2008 AD

Weight:                           70.5 kg

Mental condition:         Happy as ever (lazy as ever)

Why do dogs cross the road?

This question started haunting me after last Saturday. That night I was returning from a certain place ‘X’ and with a girl ‘Y’. The stretch of road is known as ring road. Usually ring roads are supposed to be like a ring but this ring has been mutilated badly to suit well the land sharks in Bangalore. The bike was at full throttle. And suddenly I spotted a petite dog some 100 feet away crossing the road. The thing with the dogs is, they are very shy and indecisive when it comes to crossing the road. That dog would have crossed it without a scratch but suddenly in the middle of its march towards the other side he decided to go back, the scene we see when Indian batsmen try to take quick single run and mess up in the middle. And they get out most of the time. So in this cross-or-not-to-cross or vice versa scene my bike travelled that 100 meters and the dog somehow missed my front wheel by inches. He was hit by my leg guard. All this time I tried not to be a ‘dog’ and I kept my grip tight on handle bar. Swaying either way was not going to change the direction of the dog. Yes, I applied my front disc brake and rear brake in progressive combination. So at the time of impact my speed was near 40-50 kmph range. I saved my bike (first), my girl, my ‘self’ and the dog too. One other interesting fact the trajectory you follow and the dog follows after seeing each other is going to cross at some point of time in all three dimensions at the same time. And eventually you both will be there too with your trajectory colliding.

But the question hangs there. Before miss ‘Y’ blogs anything about this I want to share it with my readers. Why do dogs need to cross the road?

1. They don’t belong to either side of the road.

2. They are not blind enough to see the traffic.

3. They don’t have any home at either side.

4. They can shit at any side of the road.

5. They cant get much to eat at either side of the road.

6. May be their bitches or dogs are at other side. But they are not so social.

Etc.

I am living with my senior and one interesting incident happened with him too. He and his friend were going somewhere after a booze party. There was a dog again in the middle of the road. But that dog was drunk too. He was taking his shit out in the middle of the road. We all know how a dog shits. So my senior who was the pillion rider saw the shit and the dog or whatever first. He told his driver mate like a proper wing-man in World Rally Championship that there is this dog unloading his shit in middle of the road. So his friend rallied towards the dog with a war cry and they hit the dog and the road at the same time. Afterwards my senior was explaining this event to me. He said if the dog is left and tail right, then he will go left. And if his head to the right and the tail left, then he will go right. But he was heading in the same direction they were heading. So he moved straight and they hit the dog from behind.

Funny planet.

ps: whenever you see a dog on road don't try to evade it. anyway you are going to hit it.

the same applies to the ladies driving any vehicle, or crossing the road.

the button !

The art of the artist never comes out from his head or hand, the motor functions are just the associates, actually it comes from his (rotten) soul :P . So here is a creation by my roomie, on pre-holi night. We were too drunk, may be that's why I agreed to be his drawing  board. Thank god, at that time he was not having a permanent tattoo machine. :D

ps:

NEVER GET TOO DRUNK

AND IF YOU DO, STAY AWAY FROM ARTISTS.

ARTISTS ARE NOT ALWAYS ARTISTIC, AT TIMES THEY ARE DRUNK TOO :D