cloudnine

[Anbu Kathegalu] On the way home

2011-12-24T02:09:00.014+05:30

Anbu opened the window, as Malvika watched on worriedly. They are on their way to Honnavara, Anbu's hometown. Malvika is new to this part of the country. She's going to spend a few days of her end-semester vacations at Anbu's place. The bus has halted somewhere near Sagara, for an early-morning tea/toilet break. It's freezing cold outside, especially by Malvika's standards, as it has always been towards the end of December, in this part of Karnataka. The cold air, that suddenly hit their faces, as the window was opened, literally sent chills down Malvika's spine. She got goose-bumps. On the other hand, the cold air gave Anbu a warm feeling. She's a child of this chilled air, after all, that envelops the gorgeous Western Ghats. She's feeling home already. She got goose-bumps, too, albeit for a different reason.

The fog outside is pretty thick, and hence the bus-driver has decided to extend what was supposed to be a ten-minute break. Malvika forced Anbu to close the window. But, she realized, yet again, how tough it is to be Anbu's friend. Anbu forced her to go out to have tea. Opposites, pretty much, are these two. A very stubborn and impulsive character, Anbu is known to be, in contrast to Malvika, who is quite balanced and well-composed, in general.

The tea there is made out of locally grown tea leaves, Anbu informed Malvika. Malvika thoroughly enjoyed the steaming hot, and what she thought was the best she ever had, tea, while Anbu had to have a barely warm cup of tea, as she was busy telling Malvika what the most interesting things about her homeland are, which she can look forward to.

As they got engrossed in the moment, sitting on the swaying wooden bench at the tea-stall, enjoying the beauty of the fog-filled, lush-green surroundings, the lingering taste and the refreshing odour of the tea, the final bit of warmth left in the tea-cups, and a conversation about wonderful things, a small kid, who looked like he could barely push through the thick fog, walked up to them, asking them if they would want to buy a newspaper. Anbu never reads newspapers. Malvika, though, checked what newspapers he's selling. The kid smiled, until she told him she's looking for an English newspaper, which he does not have. Malvika cannot read Kannada. The kid soon disappeared into thick fog again.

The driver got back into the bus. He started the engine and honked, signalling the passengers to get back on. All the passengers got into the bus soon, except Anbu and Malvika. Finally, they too, quite reluctantly, made a move. They returned the tea cups to the vendor. "Yeshtu amma?", enquired Anbu. Eight rupees, she was told. Anbu gave her the three two-rupee coins and two one-rupee coins she had with her. As they turned to walk towards the bus, Anbu spotted a jack-fruit vendor close by there, faintly visible through the fog. The driver started moving the bus, slowly, to bring it on to the main road. Anbu ran across to the jack-fruit vendor. She found out that its the kuzha type of jack-fruit - her favourite. After some keen examination, she chose pieces worth twenty-rupees. They made the bus wait for ten-minutes already, and the driver's fuming for that. Malvika briskly pulled out the required change and paid the vendor, and, with that, they ran out of coins and notes of denomination less than hundred, she thought. They quickly ran across, got into the bus, and occupied their seats. Within a moment, Anbu opened the window again, to have another glance at the lovely place, before leaving.

The kid, the one who was selling newspapers, is back there. He is standing at the tea-stall, looking for someone. As soon as he spotted Anbu, she understood whom he is looking for - herself! He ran upto their window. "Madam! Engliss Pyapaar!", he shouted across to them, and even before they realized, he rolled the newspaper and threw it into the window of the moving bus. "Driver anna! Ondu nimisha", he screamed across to the driver. It shocked Malvika, that that kid could shout so loud. The driver looked back at them, and his expression read "what now?".

"3 rupees madam" the kid said, and started wiping the sweat on his forehead. Yes, he's sweating in that weather. He had to do a bit of running to get the engliss pyapaar for them. Anbu understood that. She also observed that the kid considered the job done. He counted the three rupees in his earnings for the day. He's not even looking at Anbu and Malvika anymore. He's looking around, for more buyers. His mind's thinking of the next task already.

"Change ..", Malvika began to signal to the kid, that they don't have change, and held the newspaper out of the window. By then, Anbu already pulled out three rupees from her coin collection, which she is carrying with her, to deposit in the bigger repository she has back home. These are special currency coins released in India, commemorating various special occasions. Anbu has had a hobby of collecting those, right since her childhood. And, Malvika knows how serious she is about it. During their initial days at hostel, there were occasions when both of them ran out of money, and Anbu went to sleep hungry, and, even worse, made Malvika do that too, when she could have used a few of those coins to buy some food. Since then, Malvika has stopped considering those coins as usable currency. Hence, what Anbu has just done, came as a big surprise to her. Those coins were too valuable for her, to buy something else using them, she thought. But, for Anbu, those three one-rupee coins had never been as valuable when she had them with her, as they have become once she gave them away to that kid. She felt quite good about that.

Malvika began to wonder if Anbu has changed a bit in a semester's time. Three and half years of hostel-life ahead. Seven home-coming occasions. Malvika has begun to look forward to those, already. The bus whizzed past the little kid. Malvika couldn't get a final glimpse she wished to get, of him. She then looked at Anbu. Anbu, too, looked at Mavika, and smiled, very faintly, but with her eyes lit up. She couldn't make eye contact with her anymore, at that moment. She rested her head on Malvika's shoulder, holding her hand tight. Malvika let the window be open. And, their journey continued.

shall be

2011-10-25T01:04:00.003+05:30

I shall be me.

You shall be thee.

We shall be us.

Love shall be thus.

Could he be thinking so?

2011-05-03T17:32:00.014+05:30

Just when Triple H was about to smash Undertaker’s head, with the hammer, someone from behind closed my eyes with his/her palms. It was something I was dying to see and thanks to this clichéd act of announcing one’s presence as a surprise to another, I missed it. It made me angry. Furiously angry, I should say, like I almost considered being Triple H and that person to be Undertaker. But, the moment I realized who it was, I had to beam like I really was pleasantly surprised and follow the usual ritual of throwing some sweet-sounding greetings at them and giving those repeated hi5s and prolonged hugs, before I got back to watching television. I am asked to do so. My care-taker tells me they are the ones who helped us a bit, might help us ahead, and, most importantly, ‘can’ help us. So, we are asked to market ourselves by advertising our sweetness, obedience, innocence and the likes, that way. Some of these people come to us whenever they are free, to play with us and feel good, and sometimes I felt like telling them I was not. But, I couldn’t take that risk. Apparently, I’m too less privileged to do so.

And then the “occasion” types - these neighbors who come down whenever there is some birthday or some such thing of their kids and some once-in-a-year-philanthropists who turn up only around the Xmas time every year. We are supposed to sing the birthday song for those kids, loud and in a laudatory tone, or probably sing and dance to the Xmas-in-the-air songs, praising Lord Jesus and cursing the Satan, for the other set of people. They give us candies and other such stuff, that’s their investment, God’s blessings, the returns, and we, the medium, the market - to use a more discomforting word. I would have been pleased had the kid been my friend, who joins me at play, etc, and gives me that candy for he/she wants to give it to me, or had those Xmas visitors visited a bit more often and not just to repair their goodness-accounts maintained by Santa. I mean, I don’t quite know who that kid is and he/she doesn’t know who I am, though we are each other's neighbors! They don’t distribute candies in some random school, to some well-privileged kids, do they? That gives me a feeling I am being used, merely as that medium.

Also, by these people who run this place, I feel. A well funded religion theirs is, enabled to win people to practice it, I suspect, and we are easy pickings, I feel. I’m a believer, practicing their religion, as they kindly chose to take care of me - that’s the obligation, the deal. They preach religious stuff, day in and day out, through a thousand sermons and prayers. All that never interests me, as much as WWE and Tamil movies do. But, I don’t have a choice, like in most other cases. What’s worse is, I can’t watch the “super-hit” Tamil movies’ Sunday premieres on television, as we are made to sing at the Church during that time, probably only because it looks nice and cute to everyone there. That makes me angry, but I’m scared to be angry for I fear I’m sinning that way and will end up on Satan’s side – “the losing side” – though I’m quite doubtful about all such things they teach me. So, I atleast act I’m not.

Overall, I’m a good actor, am I not? Tamil movie superstar, I wish to be. Wonder if someone can help at that. Anyways, Triple H won. I'm happy for now.

This is how I heard it

2010-09-24T19:22:00.010+05:30

Don't look at me that way. I'm not born mad, darn bad or something. No, I am not!

Yes, I do scream, at the top of my voice, for this, that and everything. But, I do it particularly well only when I'm exceedingly frustrated, amongst other times when I do it for the fun of it or some silly thing of that stupid sort. Yes, it is kind of a matter of fact or the nature's lame and lousy law that I live with and, yet, I get psyched, that not that genuinely beautiful woman sitting next to you, nor the perfumed pervert sitting next to her, and not any ugly swan down the lake, nor any cute little pig nearby the gutter, none of you give a damn about me. As if I care, but, its just a way how I can make you feel my presence, though I quite hate you guys being scared of me to look cute to your girlfriends or acting brave for them when you are actually scared of me.

And please ask your girlfriends to stop feeding me the food they are supposed to have. It is cliched, and not cute anymore. I would make a sincere request to you all, to not even imagine of pitying me. I don't expect any warmth from your bloody breed-- the warm-blooded bodies with cold-blooded minds. You please be bothered about the warmth and wars amongst yourselves, in the first-place. And, yes, I can win my own food, the hard way that I've learnt, or die hungry instead, though I still do run behind your semi and super luxury cars, and I know that irritates you, like hell. But, that is how my screwed up head's wired, making me think anything that is running away from me is my Goddamn prey. But, its ridiculously easy for you to ignore my innocence, isn't it? You throw stones at me, and give bones to your belt-wearing bitch. Kindly continue doing that, sir.

I should admit, it indeed gives me an extraordinary pleasure when you are really scared of me, though. Go pray, for you ought to play prey to my ego, now on. And, shy off, you better, now. Another dirty look or a fuckless stone my way, I'm going to bite your ass off you, you son of a woman!

Goodbye

2010-07-21T12:11:00.004+05:30

On the other side,
of those glass boundaries,
they are all there,
the founts of my best memories.

Guess I am carrying
the passport, the passes,
and all I would need,
but not the willingness.

I can feel the vacuum,
all around and within.
What am I missing?
Well, everything!

They are all waving,
my memories' founts,
from there beneath,
those wide glass bounds.

I wave back to them,
and everything blurs out,
as my eyes get filled,
I can hear them shout.

I stand still, wondering,
'why cant we all be together',
as time and the crowd
go hell for leather.

Another look at them,
my best memories,
I can see myself,
on those glass boundaries.

Dear 10

2010-03-23T17:30:00.009+05:30

You drive me crazy
You cut me loose
You sweep me off my feet
Never let me choose

[..just unbelievably glorious stuff from the little master.. ]

I have a conscience,
I’ve learnt some science,
And theory of probability too,
In the time you let me to.
Yet I staunchly believe,
In an Almighty soul.
Who else, dear Ten,
You never let me choose.

[..like a rampaging river.. unnnstoppable.. Wooh! That's a wookie-pookie! ]

I neither know you much,
Nor owe you as such,
On personal fronts,
Or material grounds,
But, quite often, dear Ten,
May be moronic, and ironic,
That out of all, to me,
Ten comes before 9.

[Crowd roaring .. "Sacheeen.. Sachin..".. (3 claps).. ]

Coz you just drive me crazy
Cut me loose
Sweep me off my feet
And never let me choose

[..I run out of superlatives now.. can just say I feel absolutely privileged to be watching this.. ]

Wonder what I'm gonna be...

2009-10-05T16:01:00.005+05:30

Hoi-polloi are busy,
occupied, so to be,
I'm alone, n at sea,
Wonder what I'm gonna be.

[humming]

Like a sunflower, on a gloomy day,
my comrade in confusion,
that wonders what to look at,
I wonder what not to.
The noetic senescence
got only to nonsense.

The tiny star, twinkling all night,
my comrade in confusion,
it wonders whether to glow,
n I, where to go.
Wit and sapience,
hit no difference.

'm not a flower,
'm not a star,
as none can decipher,
a reference to a cipher.
n there's none of the humankind,
as my comrade in confusion.
I'm alone, and at sea.
Wonder what I'm gonna be.

The whole senescence
made no sense,
n all the sapience,
no real difference.
I've grown old,
I turned cold.
Is it a shame?
All the same.
I'm still a nobody,
Wonder what else I could be.

Hoi-polloi are busy,
occupied, so to be.
They wanna progress,
n they have a process.
[sigh] I can't follow,
I can't follow.
Can only remain cold,
and let my story unfold.
A tragedy, a lullaby,
Wonder what it's gonna be.

[humming]

I'm alone, n at sea,
Wonder what I'm gonna be.

Bapu Bommalu

2009-08-28T14:29:00.005+05:30

Bapu Bommalu [of another kind]
Location: Ramakrishna Beach, Visakhapatnam
Soundtrack: Vaishnavo Janato from Water, by A.R.Rahman
(Hugely) Helped by: Jyothi Tetali [Rather, I helped her, I should say. ]
Thankful to Chandra Bose Baabu and Gandhi [the two kids]

Cogito, ergo sum

2009-07-11T22:58:00.100+05:30

I am Thin King. I decree the decryption, deduction, decorum and deliberation of the chemical chaos, sounds stupid, but, ironically, called intellect, in this completely complex component, human brain. It's not just a component, though. As they say, the world is a perception, just how an individual perceives it, and hence is all in his/her/its brain. That way, I am the King of this (human's) world. The Thin King reigns the big fat world!

Everyone's is wired weird, the brain. There are an enormous number of those, on the face of the earth, each one wired weirder than the other, apart from myriad other things, making the world an incredibly complicated and amply eventful (sample) space. And all the world's in the brain, and the world has all those brains again. Legion things in one region. Alas, I'm the king of it.

There's an awful lot for me to take care of, that I often fail to. Inspirations, influences, interests, emotions, ethics, calculations, facts, intuitions, illusions, logic, learning, laws, ideologies, opinions, ideas, rules, memories, reasons, beliefs, obligations, obsessions, sense, nonsense, order, not in any order, are a few nameable things that, quite literally, sit on a human's head. Hence, like hell and heaven, the Thin King has got a lot of work to do. And like in this case, I will have to be selfish sometimes, and think about myself as well- thinking about Thin King.

All worlds have sections and so does the brain. Highly dominated by the right wing, always has been, my kingdom, which means I am bound to give a lot more time to the emotional front, rather than the logical and reasoning. The reason for this, I do not know, or, rather, I haven't sought, as yet, may be for the very reason that it is right wing dominated, and I don't give much time for reasoning out things.

By the way, my kingdom here is a female's brain; that is, her past, present, future- to an extent- and her world. Pressure, beyond measure, to say the least, was what I've been experiencing all the while. I always failed, miserably, to manage my kingdom. She was never peaceful under me. She had to face suspicions, her interests got distorted and battered, she was only an entity, without any identity, like heck fell upon the hecklers on whatever she did, the naysayers always had their say, the renegade brigade constantly on the offense, and to top it, the society was shamelessly, matter-of-fact-ly sexist, that even I'm calling myself Thin 'King' while ruling a female's world. The big fat world has ruled the Thin King.

To add to the defeat, only humiliation I see all around, not any humanity. I cant take it any more. I've decided to put an end to the agony. "Ee life naaku nachchaledu!", I made her write, leave the note on the bed, walk to the top of the building, and jump down. Within no time, she hit the ground, with the right wing hitting head on. The left wing, still with a modicum of life left, raised it's voice. "It's senseless, remorseless and (left)brainless to kill the kingdom for the king's shortcomings. This Thin King could have given way to another", it said. But, wasn't it too late?

["Ee life naaku nachchaledu" wrote a young girl and did as mentioned. Was wondering what she was 'thinking'. ]

La' footpath

2009-06-08T16:25:00.004+05:30

La La La.. La La La..

HOoowls of loud horns,

Bowls of cloud corns,

Traffic seize, a terrific breeze,

Rising dust n falling dusk,

A month too soon

are the monsoons.

Headin’ home is the city,

We’d stay here, show no pity,

Ramblin’ on the footpath,

Gamblin’ on all we hath.

Some more rum n come and hum!

La La La.. La’ footpath!

Rolling stones, strolling clones,

Some lazy folk n lousy smoke,

Oozing gutter, booze n stutter,

Eager sellers, meager dwellers,

N evening jogs of starving dogs.

Dear O dear, all that’s here,

Is either bad, or so sad,

Yet we sing, a cheerful song,

N we have, the skies to bong,

Bring it on; come sing along!

La La La.. La’ footpath!

Enter the buzz, bus and bustle,

The grumbling crew, in the tumbling dew,

Seeking havens, cursing heavens,

They all got wet, and all upset.

But a pretty lass, liked the jazz,

Pushed the fuss, came to us,

Took a peg n shook her leg,

Like her swirling gown could shade a town.

“Fool O fool; life’s beauteeefooool!”

The dancing doll, says to all.

That multitude can hardly infer,

N we can only hope, that it were.

Yet, boy O boy, buoy the joy!

La La La.. La’ footpath!

La La La.. La La La…

లోకులు కాకులు!

2009-05-20T19:37:00.002+05:30

కాకిని.

ఏ కాకిని?
ఏకాంత లోకపు ఏకైక కాకిని.

ఎక్కడా లోకం?
మదిలొ ఓ గదిలొ.

ఎందుకా గది?
కాకులకు, లోకులు కాకులు. శోక మూకలు.
వాటి కేకలకు లేవు బ్రేకులు.
అందుకే,
నావి కాక ఏ కాకి కేకలకు నా మదిలోని ఈ గదిలోకి లెవు రాక పోకలు.

ఏమైంది ఆ కేకలకు?
కావు కావు మని గావు కేకలు.
ఆ కేకలు నాకోసం కావ్!
ఆ కాకులు నాకు ఎమీ కావ్! కావ్! కావ్!

నేను కాకిని కానూ? నావి కేకలు కావూ?
అవును కదా. ఇప్పుడె కావు కావు మన్నా కూడా!
అయ్యూ! confusion గా ఉంది.
ఎదైన కాకి దొరికితె బాగుండు,
కాస్త నా బాద పంచుకోవచ్చు.
అయ్యయ్యొ! నా మదిలొ ఈ గదిలొ నేను కాక ఏ కాకీ లెదే!
నెను ఏ కాకికీ ఎమీ కాకుండా పోయింది నేను కట్టుకున్న గొడల వళ్ళెన?

కాకిని.

ఏ కాకిని?
ఏ కాకి కాకిని?
ఏకాకిని.
ఏకాకి కాకిని.

Off ease!

2009-05-12T18:51:00.006+05:30

I am a stranger,
to this place- the strangest,
amidst a mist,
of an irrational rationale,
and unaddressed aims,
of these well-dressed souls,
who are homeless,
though not house-less.
They are all going somewhere,
but never coming.

They run a race,
for no place,
as its against the time,
and the time one takes,
is what the time takes.
There they go,
runnin' way into the future,
shunnin' away from the present.
They are all going somewhere,
but never coming.

They run miles,
tossing false smiles,
and stupid tepid wishes,
The reasonless yet relentless
retention of pretention.
There they go,
runnin' to be someone,
shunnin' away from themselves.
They are all going somewhere,
but never coming.

They run down,
draining their lives,
honing their knives,
and when they hang-up the boots,
they won't have the fruits.
There they go,
runnin' hard to earn a life,
shunnin' away from the one they have.
They are all going somewhere,
but never coming.

This is so bad.
I am going mad.
Not a moment I can stay,
let me run far away.
I run to a station,
"Which one?" I ask one,
"Work-station!" he says,
seemed a familiar face,
"what about the place?",
"its your work place,
wake up sir", he said,
and offered the tea.
The time is just three,
'm not yet free to flee.

మేఘ సం"దేశం"

2009-03-14T18:53:00.019+05:30

ప||
హరివిల్లు ఇల్లుగ.. పన్నీటి జల్లుల.. స్వర్గమేన
జడివాన నీడలా.. కన్నీటి కళ్ళకి.. స్వప్నమేన
అ ప||
వెలుగు-నీడల వెర్రి యుద్దము..
..............................పెను తుఫనుగా మారేన
వెండి పూతల నీలి మేఘము..
..............................కాంతి క్రాంతినే ఆపేన
ప||
హరివిల్లు ఇల్లుగ.. పన్నీటి జల్లుల.. స్వర్గమేన
జడివాన నీడలా.. కన్నీటి కళ్ళకి.. స్వప్నమేన

చ||
మల్లె అంచును విడిచి వెళ్ళిన..
...........................మంచు జాడలు తెలిసేన
నింగినంటిన వడగల్ల గర్వము..
..........................పూల కాడలే తుంచేన
నీటి గూటిని కొల్లగొట్టి..
........................(కుర్ర)కారు మబ్బులు ఎదిగేన
చల్లగుండు మరు చొటికేగి ..
........................కుండపొత కురిపించేన

ప||
హరివిల్లు ఇల్లుగ.. పన్నీటి జల్లుల.. స్వర్గమేన
జడివాన నీడలా.. కన్నీటి కళ్ళకి.. స్వప్నమేన

ప||
అనుమాన నీడలు.. వెన్నంటి ఉండగా.. సాద్యపడునా?
జబిల్లి మెల్లగ.. మబ్బుల్ని వీడగా.. సత్యమగునా!
అ ప||
వెండి పూతల నీలి మేఘము..
...........................కాంతి ఉందని ఆశేన
వెలుగు-నీడల ఐకమత్యము..
...........................హర్ష వర్షమై కురిసేన

[Inspired by a tune made by Ringo.

The tune started of with a rain-theme, and suddenly Ringo came up with a music bit, which, we all thought, was patriotically oriented. Hence, this came up. This was lying incomplete for a longtime and hence the song never got completed.
The standard patterns, usually followed to write songs, weren't followed. I couldn't. There is only one charanam, and I'm not sure if the part called anu-pallavi by me can actually be called that. Please point out mistakes if you happen to find some. ]

You and I

2008-07-01T10:31:00.015+05:30

"There she goes! High up in the air and goodness me! She bruised her brow and tamed the beauty of that dame out there in the Grandstand. ( Another voice:) She was the only one around who is more beautiful than this shot, Tony. Sadly, not anymore. Shes off for some medical assistance..".. the television blared out of that window. The window through which he saw me for the first time when he was 5 years and a few months old. The window on the other side of which i saw him resting in peace, every night. The window which is now rusting in peace, day and night.

"This day and night fight might not catch the sight of the night as this light began to show its might. Its Yousaf Pathan!".. He was fondly called You, by his grandparents and friends. It was this place, where he batted, and battered the ground underneath him. That little trench still vacuous to testify the test innings he played then. My job was just to stand behind him, subbing the stumps. That wall, hit by the ball, turned ruddy and muddy for this pixilated kid frescoed every pixel of it. His granma was kind enough to let him whitewash his mischief, but only by whitewashing the wall. Now shes watching him on TV and would be recalling, yet again, how it all began when his granpa, a philosopher-gentleman, first taught him, only when he was asked by You, the quintessence of the gentleman's game one day.

"One day cricket has not seen this before! Seven sixes in an over and the English skipper is at sixes and sevens now while the crowd are in the seventh heaven. (The other voice: ) Wonder if his bat is the eighth wonder and there you see the Indian camp on cloud nine. (The former voice: laughs,) Its all numbers out here. Each of those whopping number of sixes made us number to our senses. Did he have his sixth sense helping him?.. (louder laughter).. "......

"I, like my granpa, like batting. "Batting is battling with eleven at a time" he said. He admired the views of Ramu Gandhi ji, a fellow philosopher and cricket lover, and believed in the love of wisdom and the wisdom of love. " .. was what You had to say to the newspaper his granny is reading now, sitting here in the lawn, awaiting You's return from England. She is happy to know that he personally met the lady he hurt and saw her in wellness. She is probably recalling now, how You, like Ramuji, wished God was a cricketer and knew about the second innings, when his granpa was out in the uncertain nineties.. ..

Not that I can't talk for silence is gold. Not that I can't go places for I would only find my motherland is the best. Not that i thought about having a sex and having sex when I helped You see his love by allowing him to climb upon me and jump into the next house. Not that that species dominates the world. Infact, I hate them for what they do to us. But I have to admit that, sometimes, I wanted to be You for trees rarely make their countries proud. Human innings is such a fascinating play of passion and love, ain't it? And I fail to explain or understand what the two are but can only be passionate about and love them.

Thereafter, I never lost again

2008-05-26T15:39:00.013+05:30

Kuan-Yin

copyright (c) Kuan-Yin, 2031

To my parents and the world of friends who helped me.

Prologue

Me, the starter of that nonstarter debate. Dad, my resister and mom the conductor. I was a punter who always lost. Meanwhile, a plane i thought. One could guess its still at a distance as the shadow did not pass by the window yet, though the sound was strange and the quiver was queer . 'Boom!' dad said. Sonic boom, i thought. 'IT boom' he continued 'Never the planes flew past, in the past, at this hour, at this place'. 'Wait! The debates on?' asked mom. 'Yea boy' dad said quickly 'Tell me whats the name of chapter.. errr.. one.. Of..aa.. the most recently read novel'. 'Thats too easy to test ones memory man!' said mom. I thought it is not, until I thought of it again, a bit harder. Well, how can one forget the very memorable first line, 'WTF!' I said. As I said that and the sound got louder and stranger, Dad the 'pun'ter said 'Aww! What a take off!' and all broke into laughter!

Seconds later, i remember its their wedding anniversary. Hours later, I could only wish I could wish them a happy anniversary. I lost and not just the debate.
Fate was the fiend, great were my friends. Thereafter, I never lost again.

Chapter one: WTF!
Walking through fire .. .. ..

WTF: Write the future

..

Ek nazaria

2008-03-21T10:18:00.008+05:30

The fourth co-ordinate is barely a concern to many at university level. Myriad minutes of madness. A, late and after, teen story of umpteen jaw dropping moments, but most, only to yawn. What cannot be done and what is done slimly differ, which is strangely strange enough, both being nothing. A positive, if not the only one, is the dazzling genius shown to find most astonishing ways to kill time. Prompts the presence of potential?

If I can feed an aim to one of my pastimes, what am I waiting for?Let the nation see lesser sorrow on the morrow only by you and me doing a little better. Let me live here like i would live long.... when my last second here breaks to nought, my vision would not.... as my spirit would live..... as an ignited mind!

Small aim is crime.. and less is the time..

sense, recalling 'Charanam'

2007-12-21T19:49:00.000+05:30

:I see azure blue
I get a tiny clue
of the falling in grey
water on the pallet, I pray
heavens break a jot of a drizzle
I never knew how birds whislte
A duet sung by breeze and pond
can only wish I can respond
odds be anyway
even grey is gay
I am colour
the timbre of music

:I can take heed
a soul is all i need
I can speak
a hearer is all i seek
i see the beauty
and i do the duty
I am heart
my beat rhythmic

:wondered what the evening had to show
as the breeze eased past kissing my brow
and brings me that sharp note
plucking nerves left remote
can't say it was bright
for all i see is the night
wet, now, is my tear pit
for it sounds like I've seen it
be it aught
blurs me not
I am word
set the lyric

[ A lil one, an entry to a 60 secs short film contest at the Ability-Fest '07 conducted by the Ability Foundation, Chennai. The theme was "celebrating diversity", primarily looking at diversity in terms of ability. We couldn't make it to the final screening, nevertheless one of the better things we did las sem. Should prolly dedicate a post to thank all, if i can do it on this blog. ]

The beginning of the end

2007-11-10T16:26:00.000+05:30

Its flat with flattering illusions. My story, a plot built two dimensionally. The leads of the story are Man and Time. Woman, a deserving lead was relegated as a law, never made, existed. A flaw in disguise. So, this stuff never so distaff. I am called The Mankind and my story, "The Male Chauvinism".

The innumerable amateur livers of the delusively glorious society are the terrific authors of my story. The story was equally terrifying at a time. It was when there were almost nothing called rights to that sector, wrongs were called the rights and fools made the rules. But gradually, by natures law, after years and years which saw living practiced, they learnt the art, the simplest one. Nevertheless, amateurs still exist.

2007 A.D and in circulation is a magical drug which claims that one would give birth to a male child on consumption after conception. Less ironically, people also seem to be getting carried away by the claims of the “doctor” and more deplorably, a professor I know went for it. No social evil is as bad as the bad.

Audacious should I say, those who were just normal to go off path of an abnormal social club. I should, may be because I should see it the other way round. Thanks for the twist in my tale. Nevertheless, amateurs are restless and being perfect is at some distance.

Traveling distances that way is boring. One would say "bus!". Hyderabad to Goa.
I am as bad at times that id listen to conversations which don't have me involved. I was traveling alone with everyone in the bus. Two young women, each one new to the other and to me, reserved those seats which were special as were meant for ladies. Their conversation built up so well that even Chacha Chowdary couldn't tie me up. "Wait a bit old man! Two young women there!". Both Goans and working in hyderabad. One a techie in siemens and one in- "thaili"- the conductor interrupts. Seems like a call center. After talking about the regular shit and usual crap relating their jobs, in short one had a benign boss and the other a crooked HR, they moved on to talk about lifestyles- dress, consumption, entertainment and they live alone. Acculturation evident as the traffic-jams dint get them frustrated, road accidents dint see them frightened, security checks not a big issue and they neither slept nor ate- can call them hyderbadis. But there was one thing which had them uneasy. Those who were adequately expressive, as their lines of work necessitates, seemed lethologica struck suddenly, as they talked on it. And its absolutely disheartening that the problem was so obvious that each one knew what the other said silently or rather was not willing to say.. i knew it too..
My friends tell me, they don't like public transport,etc. And some of them are still freedom fighters at home.

Hopefully, the story is quickly approaching its end and certainly the last lines would read, "Long live humankind. The end of the male chauvinism".

like a diamond in the sky

2007-08-31T18:59:00.000+05:30

not for the briefest of moments it seems to be still.. sad.. glad.. wish.. will.. i see the seasons into which each second, that lasted for eternity, was divided.. wonder if its just a spec in a universe of human thought.. and yet those breezy runs called lives.. wonder how brief they were..

I went up to Him, up above the world, so high, and questioned.. "why art Thou so confused?".. He smiled as if he wasn't... moved on.. stopped...looked back.. and said.. "you are still alive my little friend.. and I cant kill you now.. "

Charanam.. enchanting,Thy verse

సష్టిపూర్తి

2007-08-15T01:32:00.000+05:30

ఆ ఆరవయ్యి ఏళ్లు వెనక్కి తిప్పగలిగితే??
(if u can turn back those 60 years of time??)

How similar and how different you want the happenings to be from then on??

Bhopal gas tragedy... white revolution.. Gujarat quakes.. Pokhran tests.. Ayodhya.. China war.. world cup 1983.... green revolution.. emergency.. tsunami... Kargil war.. world cup 2007.. economic liberalization.. bombay riots.. .. assassinations.. software revolution.. the partition.. .. .. ..

You liked the song sung by time??
What if you were to write the saahithyam for the desha raagam??

♫ జన காண ಮನ.... ♪

Powerful Madia

2007-07-28T22:48:00.000+05:30

Saturday.. holiday.. bored.. what to do?? how about fm radio?? o yea..

<))) hi hello people.. this is PEEya ur GJ (genuine Jockey) for tonights show freedumb clinic's 'Saala'brity only on Radio Pity 99.9 fm .. watte watte watte what a pun.. Radio Pity watte pun.. just switch-off maadi!!. Todays saala(1 tiktik 2 tiktik)brity is Mr.9 who came down to B'lore for an internship kinda thing. We'll hv a chat right after this break. brb. Keep listenin to Radio Pity 99.9 fm .. watte watte watte what a pun.. Radio Pity watte pun.. just switch-off maadi!!

'Ad'verse
girl: hey.. 12:30.. gottu go.. boy: hey.. the police arent around.. the pub isnt closing yet.. n we jus into the third round.. whats the hurry?? girl: a personal girly thing.. is ter a need to mention?? boy: yep.. girl: i need to bla bla bla.. aakaashvaani: such problems ?? don worry.. we have a permanent solution.. call .######.. freedumb clinic!! .. ...... ... ...
bla.. bla... blaa......

we r bak on saalabrity.. Mr.9 , as u knw.. we hv a rapidfire round.. the q's may depend on ur answers,barring the first one ofcorse.. here we go..
GJ: u ready? 9: no.. GJ:?? 9: all andhrites r not reddys.. GJ: nut.. forget.. engg is all about?? 9: report writing.. btw.. im only 1/2 an engr now.. GJ: if not an engineer??
9: doctor.. GJ: if not a doctor?? 9: lifes waste.. btw. IM FROM AP,INDIA GJ: wat do u see after.. ? 9: a good job in my field obly.. apart from tht.. wanna coach a schools krikeet team.. a photographer.. wanna make 'a' film's'.. .. wanna direct plays.. wanna be working, honrly, for doordarshan and AIR.. and other lil things lik krikeet commentary and.. wanna be a wedding planner for two weddings, one Hindu n one Christian,marriages i mean.. not bride n bridegroom, one shud be of somone who is quite close to me.. and the other of a stranger and wud also like to be a fashion designer for one of those and .. and.. and.. and..
GJ: dude.. u r frm AP,INDIA.. 9: oops.. sry.. watelse then.. a 'saaf'tware professional.. 9 hours of work each day including lunch hour.. a bank-a/c-filling package.. weekends off to dirty discos and pathetic parties.. 'cool-ie' GJ: India/Outdia?? 9: outdia.. GJ: India's strenth..? 9: more than 60% of popu below 28.. figures may be incorrect but r somewer near to exact... GJ: weakness??
9: ditto GJ: most wasted resource?? 9: youth.. either on jobs or joblessness.. GJ: define joblessness..
9: (10 secs lapse..) to ask for, to think for and to listen to the definition of joblessness defines joblessness.. GJ: k.. here comes a song for u people out there..
<)))X

ahh crapp.. the same asskicking remix.. or preethi/prema/kaadal/pyaar/love/bakwaas.. how abt 90.0.. <))) GJ: ms. mandhamathi.. from 'Paagal'halli.. u may win ur tickets for mungaaru male.. if i get a witty answer for this.. most heard thing on fm radio?? ms.m: noise.. <)))X 96.9.. <))))Q: radio-activity is??
A: dangerous- if u r in Japan.. weapon- if u r in US..fundsless- if its AIR.. senseless- if its an fm-r .. <)))X 99.9.. <))) freedumb!!! aazaadi.. beeeeep ki.. <)))X

thu radio.. lemme pick up the newspaper...

'Bad Times',daily
page 3

"the project is in the 'PIPE'lines"
June 31st(?!?!),B'lore...
Mr.9 is in town. But he always ran away from the media. One of a reliable source from among his freinds.. informed BT( note: donot take it as B'lore Times.. ) that he would grace the friday night party thrown by GE.. BT rightly caught up with him for a chat.. in the.. hmew.. hmew.. toilet. He cant runaway for sometime aleast. When asked about the status of his project.. he says.. 'Unzipped' a very important file right now.. wud try and get as much 'data' as i can from it(?!?! ).When asked about the KEY words.. he said.. .. 'open' 'source' 'conent'(?!?! ). Meanwhile BT noticed that his innerwear had no tags... may be due to lack of sponz.... we made it public! ab yeh andar ka maamla nahin hain..

yes.. media is powerful.. son!! fetch me that medical kit please.. btw dint they show something else in lageraho munnabhai.. and dint the newspapers play a key role in the Indian freedom struggle.. why wud i want to know about Bips' hips and lips.. cant deny the fact that they are doing a respectful job in a wonderful way.. but they r littering their own field.. anyways.. no one compels me to them, thankfully.. n hey.. guess tht engg. guy had to say something..

<)) chisshh .. chisssh.. aakashavaani visakhapatnam kendram .. meeru vintunnadi Madhuragaanam..
thadupari paata.. Akkineni Nageswara Rao gaaru natinchina.. Bapu- Ramanala "Andaala Raamudu" chitram nundi.. gaanam: Ramakrishna..

"edhagadaaniki endukura thondara.. edhuta bathukantha chindara vandhara.."

pur(d<->)vah nahin

2007-06-21T10:48:00.000+05:30

the recent controversial remarks by one of the strong contestants to be the first citizen of this secular and the largest democratic state, just reminded me of what i saw wen i was traveling back home from Goa.. was in one of those Lalloo's magic boxes.. it was as hot that the water bottles were steaming for carrying them with us.. and were steaming on our faces as we opened them up..it was damm hot and the box was jam-packed... and yet we, me n frens, were enjoying as it has nothing to do with all these..

i couldn't look out to see which place it was, but then came to know it was Londa.. two ladies were screaming in a language i failed to understand, also may be because of the slang or may be because they were taking quick breaths as they came down running... but then we understood that a frens package was badly placed and was obstructing the movement of our co-passengers.. we quickly moved it to see them silent.. the women were in burqas..

sound of bells which seemed more pleasant than that made by my school bell, was the sound of dozens of bangles.. a tone which struck optimum frequencies very much like the train's whistle.. and eyes were more brilliant than a brilliantly made false diamond, a pair of best carved ones i've ever seen.. and an extravagantly made hand bag as if it was made to beat all of the above, but how can extravagance beat elegance??... these are all that i could notice about that girl, in burqa, who delicately pushed through the crowd to find herself little place to settle down... i guess shes the daughter of one of those two women, who cursed only the weather, after us, for causing a lot of discomfort...

though was pretending to be busy with my frens and those games within us.. i managed to keep observing everyone around, specially the special one.. i could see only her eyes, for she should see the rest of the world, and they were thankfully expressive that i could make out what she felt, at least i felt so.. they dint glitter all the while,but they did sometimes like when she was with those children around, and seemed like she wasn't comfortable with the curtains over her.. suddenly onto her feet.. the women were angrily saying "nahin", if i could get them right.. the girl just said "purvah nahin"... off went the burqa..the women kept watching, their lower jaws lowered..

well ordered teeth as if they were taking some military training.. lips short in length but too high on wavelength of the color they reflected.. a chin which would tempt one to plead her a lot.. nose, knows no bend... brow, quarter of an a4-size white sheet.. and hair as silky and dark as her burqa was.. this beautiful, i expected her to be as the act of breaking bonds, of the burqa, was in progress.. she wasn't so, instead the deed made her look even more beautiful, the beauty of being bold..
she dint give me much trouble as the observing feet, stealing looks?!, was only till we reached Dharwar, where they left..

but then thoughts kept running, along with the train.. isnt the world dispossessed of many beautiful things, just because we are very possessive.. and as a result the thing is deprived of the whole world.. protection, seclusion, prevention all seemed senseless when compared to freedom, to me.. there are thousand and one better relations that can be made...

she just said... "purvah nahin"

Dress_code

Criticism_of_Purdah

help!!

2007-05-06T15:31:00.000+05:30

the world is at its evening..
needs some 'even'ing..

'nick'ed it.. held at the '9'th slip!!

2007-04-14T00:22:00.000+05:30

"y r u '9'???"

every third person: ur lucky no.??
plain thinkers: ur bday on 9th??(and other such q's)
fgot who: planned sumtin for 2k9??
bachi: ur height..??
shakee: ur crush's lucky no. or the no. of crushes u have or may be she... ..!!????
kush kar: ur dream gpa??
octavia: ur A.I.R??
hacta gatee: mathmatical magic??
rupee: y not 10 or 8??
an old fren(also a fren who is old): according to Indian sculptures it corresponds to lord Brahma...!!
arghh : to b placed high wen arranged in alpbtcal order?? (then i wud vry well go for 1 or sum other char.. )

and and and...

well.. wat if i say.."jus lik tht!!!" .. :P

but u may try this.. sometimes u may end up knowin wat pple think of u or how they usually think.. !!

damm: seen tht mr.9? all our 9 coins on board.. boku!!
vandith: 9.. u wud get bday bumps atleast 9 times a sem!!
ringo: thu u!! nick on dc also 9!! !@#$ wid 9..
nitin: asalu 9!!(kind of callin sumone phodu bla bla..)

alls fine.. wid 9..

(jus came across it.. cos of punch.. and thot i'd add this today.. i mean 21st of april..

Douglas Adams was asked many times during his career why he chose the number forty-two. Many theories were proposed, but he rejected them all. On November 3, 1993, he gave an answer on alt.fan.douglas-adams:

The answer to this is very simple. It was a joke. It had to be a number, an ordinary, smallish number, and I chose that one. Binary representations, base thirteen, Tibetan monks are all complete nonsense. I sat at my desk, stared into the garden and thought '42 will do.' I typed it out. End of story.

--->According to The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, researchers from a pan-dimensional, hyper-intelligent race of beings constructed the second greatest computer in all of time and space, Deep Thought, to calculate the Ultimate Answer to the Great Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything. After seven and a half million years of pondering the question, Deep Thought provides the answer: "forty-two." The Answer to The Ultimate Question Of Life, the Universe and Everything is a fictional solution in Douglas Adams's series The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. )

andharu mahaanubhaavule.. andhariki vandhanamulu..

2007-03-24T01:13:00.000+05:30

around 16 years passed by.. probly the first meaningful sound i made, other than those i made while weeping,sneezing or farting was
as sweet as it cud be.. "amma".. gottu confirm it with amma though..

since then this has been my support to build a rapport with the environment.. i saw, explored ,recognized , discovered, understood, and misunderstood the world through it.. but in the way.. i cudnot..**did not** explore the way, that led me to the center stage, as much as it can be mentioned..

the wake up call.. prayers to God.. mom's berating.. dad's wishes.. frens gossips.. playtime screams.. hunger shouts.. n bedtime stories.. all had one thing in common.. the toungue.. the Mother..

its the shape my feelings took... and the way my expressions expressed themselves..

She showd Her love to me.. i just got it widout deliberately learning it.. and in turn i shud do the same.. by deliberately learning or teaching more of it.. if not i shud atleast respect Her.. for She is my Mother..

i promise U Mother.. i would be Ur son.. and wud save Ur breath in the intense smoke of globalisation..

(shud ter be any reason to scribble sumtin?? -->
none of us understood wat the host talked today,at our regional cul-fest, as he spoke wholly in our mother toungue.. and the poor chap was 'boo'd off... isnt it stupid..

as part of our exercises to put some time off the clock, we were listening to the songs from sirivenella and swatikiranam for the nth time in ringo's room today.. and seeing nutty passing by.. i wondered wat wud be my answer if he comes to me and asks me wat the song meant.. the most appropriate answer i cud possibly give wud be "i dont know..".. and if someone who knows the language asks me the same.. i wud say "lite teesko.."... abject surrender..

mr.a was thot only swear words of my language by mr.b

it was Ugadi,the telugu new year day, wen i scribbled this.. :D)

when i dreamt the the reality..

2007-03-04T13:21:00.000+05:30

when baba n bablee r banging the boxes off the floor at this hour of the day.. and my bed is tappin its feet to the rock cracking rock..
and shaking my ass off it..
i wish i had the patience to listen to the nonsense.. or the license to demand silence..

but i do something which im very good at..
ask the leisure to sit with me.. and the work at hand,hope to c it later..
cos i dont have time.. my clock isnt working..

i think at leisure.. i think deep..
no more pressure.. i fall asleep..

i quickly jump into a dream to get away frm the rash reality..
the curtains open up.. welcome to the dream world..
i c myself sleeping real peaceful.. and then i slowly slide into a dream...
and again.. the curtains up.. welcome to the dream world..
this time i dont c myself sleeping.. cos i sometimes do something other than this too...

i c myself swimming across a silent sea, the sea of silence..
clouds din move.. as the breeze wasnt blowing..
noise supposdly drowned in te sea..
the sea n the sea is all i cud see..

it isnt earth.. it was silent..and not violent..
though im crowned with silence here..
but if im drowned??!!i fear..

how far is the shore..
as much as i am from it...
so i guess it isnt far now.. as im on it..
an island..
i wishd i shared the moments wid baba n bablee..
but im happy they arent here...
everything around at thy service ..i told myslelf
selflessly giving everthing i found, to whom i talked to...

it isnt earth.. it is silent ..and not violent..
though im alone and in peace here..
but if anyone sees this place??!!i fear..

this wud be under my dominion, i sighed to the heavens..
im not gonna share the shore..
ter i see some movement.. in the unmoved oceans..
"dont dare to come hither" i screamed..
the sea of silence broke into ripples..
as the man came onto the shore.. i ran down to him..
"leave the place" was my command..
a huge smile on spottin me.. was his way to respond..
widout a thot.. i got down to the war..

it isnt silent.. ter is violence.. its another earth now..
i thot tht was the way to my destination..
but thts the way away frm it!!i fear..

and..

all of a sudden im down to earth..

the alarm jumps on me.. i wake up to c baba awake..

bablee knocks my door.. to c me awake.. this time not in dream..

my least busy schedule always gives me time to interpret my dreams..
and i wonder..
how people lik me ruined the serenity..
n im not alone in the race to be alone..
and to gain nothin..
fightin wars to find peace..
unhealthy competitions in way to all healthy causes..
arent we caught in chaos..

vandith says "world is a group of frens..
n so is the best place to live in.. "
how wud i njoy a cric match widout bablee n who wud teach me basketball lik how baba does..
its jus the way i c it..

save the spirit of sharing.. cos someday i may be in need.. or may be u..

2007-01-24T19:52:00.000+05:30

He sees everything for me.. i see him through everything..
He listens to the silence.. that is when i talk..
He talks his mind out.. i hide something in the heart..
He cant feel me.. i sum up his feelings..
He tries to make me happy.. i pretend im not..
He is the way world sees him.. i am the way he sees himself..
He is me.. i am mine..
He is ravi .. i am nine..

ravi.. the rejected kavi.. wah

2006-12-29T22:47:00.000+05:30

writin to the school magazine is a gud thin to do, was wat my dad n sis told me.. so started thinkin of sumtin jus for the sake of magazine n was not an automatic outflow of words.. was starin at the opens on top of my house.. a full moon day.. a baby cryin nex door.. yesss.. got my thing.. i thot it was poetry!!!!! it goes this way..

this poem is written by derivin inspiration frm the words of small children.. (bla bla.. truely i wrote this at the beginnin.. almost the same.. some strong words used ter)

why, why the moon is only in the sky..
why, why the moon is only in the sky..

why cant u come here..
i think u have fear..
i dont think u'll hear..
my litle stupid tear..

why, why the moon is only in the sky..

n continued wid some more lines as gud as those.. n also had a specific style, tune kind of a thing to recite this thing.. hmm.. n this work of mine was rejected.. (was 9 or 10 yrs old then.. don ask me y im mentionin this here).. many copy paste works were selected but not mine.. originality was rejected.. (infact a stupid poem was rejected).. but i never felt bad n instead im happy wid the freedom i have.. i can publish this anywer i want to.. no fear ( though i fear tht pple may kik me for the thing is so gud).... above all.. tht work of mine is very close to me.. it depicts 'the me'(my stupidity).. the first time i wrote sumtin wholly out of my grey.. n may be the last time i presented sumtin so very neatly to my teacher(thnks to my sis).. color pencils, pens, rulers, stencils all comin to the party.. how gud it cud have been if it got published.. no.. im not feelin bad!!!!

'coin' the future

2006-12-21T22:01:00.000+05:30

16.26 degree celcius (yes im doin my BE) for a vizagette is 'quite cold'.. and we thot of goin around tht evenin..
first to the temple as i was with my parents.. a complex one may call it.. one stop for devotees of all Gods n also to ones who r devotees of all Gods.. and hence it was obvious tht ter wud be many of those who r less previleged waitin for those valued metal disks of the least thickness u may possess at tht moment.. an old man, badly shiverin, managed to come up to our scooters.. a two rupee coin was all i found in my pocket apart from the empty walet.. and i gave tht to him which made a younger one(mid 30s probly) go to him and ask him how much i gave him... my sis managed to put him away.. wen she askd him wats wrong wid him, as nothin seemed to be externally.. he dint bother to answer..
and then to the beach.. was glad my dad dint fget to carry some money.. a ten was wat i tuk from him.. and again was left wid a two rupee coin... after gettin myself some boiled groundnuts.. this time a kid, a head worn out jus for a stay of 7 yrs under his cap and the legs weakened for being in his shoes.. can call it a monkey cap on his head.. he for me lukd jus lik Chiku of swades.. a bit darker in complxn and weaker in appearence.. had nothin to eat all through the day was wat he had to say.. enquired him abt his studies.. not into it now n not in the future either as he had to earn for his family he said.. Arjun was his name if my memory is ok.. n wen enquired him whether hes workin nywer.. his backbone straihtened n kin of proudly said he wud be into a job from the day after tht day.. a hakka noodles center on the beach was wer he cud find a job.. his work is to clean the vessels,n also the tables n chairs which wud be carelesly dirtied by someone or me may be.. and again a two rupee coin was all i cud...
the past,present n future of my place i saw on one evening... probly i can giv up a saturday's icecream(70 bucks) to get him, or another arjun, a set of books(wonder how much wud the set of books of the ssc board wud cost).. n giv up the time wen i wud be starin at this box countin numbers, wen a download is goin on, to do this .. as the future alone is wat can be altered.. to change the state of the state..

"Each one,teach one"... A.P.J.Abdul Kalam

those coloured papers do have some value..

2006-12-21T19:42:00.000+05:30

"In India, one in 10 children die before the age of five and almost half of the infant deaths occur within the first week of their lives, but you can make a difference."....................................................

react and present a future to the present...

pic stolen from the UNICEF website.. rate this pic 10/5

http://www.supportunicefindia.org/donation/SupportUS.aspx

2006-12-21T18:48:00.000+05:30

"I admire him for everything he goes through daily.. its tough when u know tht a fifty thousand pple r waitin for u outside the stadium.. a million advices per day.. thousands of expert comments mocking u.. on top of everything.. u r the top player of the world.. "
Shane Warne on Sachin..

we love u warneee (not jus for sayin the above). we love u for the way u look at the sport.. we miss u now on.. we miss a challenge.. a sportive challenge.. a champion.. hope there wud be no more 'awkward turns' in ur life.. good bye warneee.. c u off the green..

encouragement

2006-12-16T22:48:00.000+05:30

this ..ment meant a lot... thks to my dear frens rini,punchagan,voodoo.. they keep encrgin n inspirin me..

When Prongs was killed for the last time

2006-12-16T15:19:00.000+05:30

October 2nd,2006... any year on this day,an Indian wud think of the great Mahatma.. and his priceless contributions to the nation... on this day the common man also celebrated Dusserah in this secular state.. the tenth day and the grand ending to the celebrations which the country had, all these days of festival..

the day left many people great memories.. life all around in pink.. but for us.. it left only memories.. n life turned grey scale.. it was an end to our celebrations which we had for two and a half sems.. an ending which we neither expected nor accepted..

Prongs luvd beaches.. he livd at the east coast before he came here to the west coast.. n probly the sea inturn luvd him n so took him in..
four of us were always together.. be it physically or be it on opinions.. n also virtually together wen we playd the game czero for our clan "klan".. people always wanted to kill prongs.. n wenever he was killd it was like a hounour to them..but He wont be granted with this.. cos He playd the game wrong.. He killd Prongs for one last time..