Long time ago..there was ME!!
Humph….ok…ok…got it..!! I know everyone had a complaint about this blog, it hasn’t been updated about anything for so long, almost 2 months now since the last entry. Sometimes life goes too fast that you hardly get time to catch up with yourself, simply that was the reason for me not have written anything here. Sincere apologies not only for this blog but also for the other two blogs which have not yet been updated, cant promise when they would be, but at least this one is being done right now. Its 4 o clock in the morning and here I am back in the insomnia, feels wonderful, reminds me of the days when I was a student and all I could do all night was to sit back and type something or the other on my notebook and post it there and then. This blog today would basically deal with what I had been doing for so long and what kept me going, or rather, busy for so long.
Had few seminars lined up and then a professional get together's, then few tours, and then few more trips, and then a professional changeover. Finally here I am today, joining something I never thought I would do but sometimes you had to take decisions based on your head rather than your heart to gain short term profits and not think ahead, that’s what I decided, and today here I am just a step away from joining my new employers in the big metropolitan, or as they say there, aamchi Mumbai. Everytime I sat down to write something or the other, I got hooked to some or the other work, and hardly got time to arrange my thought process. Don’t know how much of this may be truth for others, but it seems insomniac’s can not only work at nights but also think at nights, when the darkness all around them enlightens.
Today was just another day when I caught up with a few movies and a few other things like reading. Reading hasn’t been my cup of tea but then I finally read something that dint concern my profession, I read an inlay card of a new stain remover in the market, aptly named, Vanish, and by Jove I was stunned, it produces oxygen bubbles, or as they say O², might sound amusing, but I guess this is a wonderful discovery, every time an asthmatic falls short of breath, instead of taking a dose of regular drug, take a spoonful of Vanish, instantly, either you vanish, or asthma vanishes. Not only these, but to fight pollution, instead of pesticides, why not sprinkle Vanish all around, pollution vanishes. It’s a revolutionary product indeed, partly named, and am sure we can find many more uses of the same if we use our grey cells, wut says?
Now coming back to watching a movie, watches Omkara & Switch in Mumbai, where the former was an adaptation of Othello by Shakespeare, the other was utter rubbish, thankfully I was kept awake by my surroundings and hence I happened to thoroughly enjoy the two.
I remember a friend of mine called Imti Bhai, who once narrated a story about a foreigner visiting his village in Allahabad, people there new nothing about English, so once when this white man was thirsty, he died, not because there was draught, not because he had some fight, but simply because our poor village folks never knew English, sounds strange, but all the while this white man kept yelling “water…water”, none of them understood as to what he wanted, and he finally died thirsty. Rubbish, I bet Imti bhai would be able to give better reason for this rural legend. The very purpose of narrating this anecdote was to picturise what someone from a small town or village feels when he travels to big city like Mumbai or Delhi. Almost out of place, not that I was there for the first time, but then I could realize how miniscule I was in front of that waterlogged, seaside, bollywood city. Big malls, bigger chawls, and biggest dolls. It amazed me, and when I compare myself to my dear buddy Savishesh, I realize what went wrong with me, like that villager near Allahabad, I was too naïve to understand the ways of the world in big cities. But then that’s it for me, I am sure I know the formula to survival “when in Rome do as the Romans do”
Okie, now that’s it for today. I know this one is a little funny and a lot boring post, so don’t wait for the other one if you have something important to wait for, or else, see you soon from the big city.
Wham...Bomb...thank you Islam!!!
Before I begin with my unending rhetoric about the world around me, let me apologize for the Mumbai bomb blasts. No No….its not me who did it…the only bombshells I ever saw were on the TV sitcom Baywatch and the only canon’s I ever saw were the ones firmly placed without gunpowder in my school ( La Martiniere College for Boys, Lucknow), the apology is to the Indian govt. for the mistook me and my blog for being responsible for this act of terror. They blocked the blogspot on whole, and implicated my fellow bloggers along with me for writing them. The government needed a scapegoat, they took me for four legged mammal and took away my freedom. Now his highness bureaucracy has restored my freedom without an apology, so here I am expressing everything I could possibly could.
Bombay, the big city, always awake, and full of life was bombed 7 times more than a week back, apparently for reasons unknown, and by people unknown, killing unknown, and wounding unknown, in unknown numbers. Few of you who think it’s a serious issue and should not be mocked at, I beg you don’t read further, for am here to mock at everything from bomb’s to religion to government to democracy to myself and at you. Being born in early 80’s I hardly have an idea when the great beautiful valley in north was ever peaceful. Kashmir, the queen of valleys, and Switzerland of India has been the butt of jihadi terror ever since I learnt how to read and write. Earlier I never knew the reason behind the very purpose of terror, to me all that matters is India on whole. Being an Indian comes first and probably the last thing ever in my mind. To me Pakistan was and is yet an enemy state, not because of my cynical prejudice towards the country, but for certain reasons which I am here to discuss today.
To begin with, lets identify the area’s going through jehadi violence Chechnya (Russia), Czechoslovakia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Somalia, Kashmir ( India), Malaysia etc…etc..etc. and the list keep going on. apologies for the poor general knowledge and lack of memory, but then there is one thing that’s common in all these countries, Jihad. What is this Jihad? To those who are Non Islamists, commonly referred to as Kefirs’, it simply means a crusade. Without being prejudiced to any faith or religion, I am compelled to think about Islam. Does Islam teach massacre? I have no answers, and don’t look for them too. Saw this documentary on National Geographic about Hajj pilgrimage, where it is customary to sacrifice a lamb to please Allah. Has anyone ever questioned this bloodbath? Does Islam consider living beings other than human’s inferior? If the answer is No, I think and believe most of Islamic scholars need to bring reforms. Being a staunch vegetarian, I may be a little biased, but then bloodbath of any kind, whether human or animal, is condemnable. No religion can ever grant immunity to any kind of killing, and if it does, it’s satanic.
Even Hinduism had yajna’s and rituals where animal or human sacrifice was considered sacred, and even today some tantric rituals take place only with animal sacrifice, but none of them can be sacred, those who offer animal sacrifice or blood in Hindu rituals are always destined to be heretics, for in Bhagwad Geeta, Krishna himself claims to be omnipresent and every living or dead being part of that higher soul. Lord Buddha and Mahavira themselves advocated non-violence or ahimsa. But now the moot question is, does non-violence exist in Islam? If it does not, it’s not worth being a follower, and if it does, I urge clerics to issue fatwa’s against Hamas and Lashkar instead of issuing it against Salman Rushdie or Tasleema.
Islam today needs radical reforms, and Islamic scholars should seriously think on the terms of bringing those reforms at the earliest, or else, Islam is bound to be doomed, it’s bound to be termed Satanic Verses, sooner or later.
Hackers...Soccer...etc...
I had been longing to write something for days but unfortunately never got any decent matter to write upon. Not that today I have something interesting to write or I can weave a good story to tell, it’s only my unshakable habit to write something that has bought me back to my favorite playground.
Monsoons have arrived in this part of India after unleashing their fury in Mumbai. I wonder how and when did man learn to fight nature, unconvincingly, the whole of human race has done that except part of the world like India and some other African countries. This time again, monsoons bought overflowing drains and flooded streets in the western metro. It was no way different than what happened almost a year back. Tall promises were made to an extent that puppet in the centre even dreamt of making Mumbai a replica of Shanghai, seems like just another
santa-banta Joke. After all our puppet also inherits those jeans of most funny tribe of Indian society. But Mr. PM, nothing was amusing this time too.
A friend of mine from Calcutta messages me about a wish to have winters all round the year. A kid at heart, she refuses to believe that Indian subcontinent has the best climatic conditions ever to be found all round the world. India not only has all the four seasons in the optimum levels, but also shows its fury now on then. What we term as fury is nothing but corrections made my nature for human follies.
This was all about monsoons and politics over the rains. Coming back to FIFA’06, German’s couldn’t make it to the finals and neither did the Portuguese. Instead we have France and Italy in the finals, and my best bet would be on the Italians, not because they are better players, but for the single fact that they have the stamina to make it as champions and they play as a team, which French lack. French are essentially centered around Zizuu and Henry, take these two out of France and they don’t stand a chance. Secondly, I don’t remember a team playing more than two strikers in a game ever, and that’s what Italians are up to. In their game with Germans they had four striker in the extra time, and that yielded results. That was an awesome game, with the first goal of game coming in the last minute of extra time and second goal within 30 seconds of the same. For the books, Germans lost two nil, but in reality, it was one nil for the second goal was nothing less than aftershock, even before the time keepers could see their watches and announce the end, the goal was done, and even If you loon in the records, the second goal is shown in the 121st minute, which simply means that the second goal is outside the purview of records even. But to conclude, Italians played some good soccer and won their way to final, but one shouldn’t underestimate the German grit and determination. They showed some real tough guy attitude right since their first match, which has not been seen even in other teams playing for the cup.
Another issue that made waves in my head was hacking. I had come across so many people including close friends who have often described themselves as master hackers on the net, but going a little deeper into their knowledge base, I have realized that those were fake claim. To begin with, hacking into a web based mailbox is next to impossible unless someone knows your details to the precision like birth date, anniversary date and foremost the answer to the secret question. So if some of you think your mailboxes have been hacked, change these details as most of the mailbox providers provide facility for changing these details in some form or the other. Where
rediffmail provides for change in zip codes and address details,
Yahoo! Provides for change in all these details excluding the secret question. So in case any of you have any suspicions regarding mailbox hacking, before alleging it on your friends and near ones, and spoiling your relations, change these details and call up the toll free nos. of these service providers. Or better still; switch to
Gmail for in this retrieving of password happens only by way of email sent to your alternate email id. Now the most important answer to one of the queries put forward by an old friend of mine, IP addresses, these are protocol addresses which are assigned by your service provider as soon as you log on to the net using their services. It’s a misconception that any one can trace your IP address and find out your precise location, that’s practically impossible for it needs specialized software and hardware modules. Secondly, even tracing is restricted to a certain extent, it can not reveal the precise city or part of the city you are located in. so if someone tries being smart in front of you, threatening to have your IP address, be a little cautious, if its you who has been a little naughty, then you may land in soup, but if its not you, be brave, kick that asshole, you need not worry at all. And if you still have suspicions, get your hands off the net, net isn’t for incorrigibly suspicious individuals.
Recently I came across fabulous website having a still database of sketches, both in nudes and landscapes. These sketches can be found on my alternate
blog under the photo stuff category. Few of the entries have been password protected and the password for the same can be had by way of
email to me. Most of the photographs which have been compiled there have been done from various websites often found through various search engines. This blog also has a compilation of some classic love letters written by greats like Lord Byron; Edgar Allen Poe etc. have a feast of literature there.
Some Important Links:
Trace your own IP Address
My IP Address
Male Hormones...
Do I have something to write? Absolutely not. Then why am I here again on my blog? No idea!! Sounds confusing? Yes it does, even to me. There are few days when you have absolutely nothing to do and nothing to make your brain run across the miles. As Pink Floyd once sang, you are comfortably numb. You hate being pinched yet wait for those little nutty gritties. You purposely shove those files away from you, only to procrastinate things. Tomorrow never dies, it’s bound to come tomorrow, if not tomorrow, another day past tomorrow and so on. You try finding reasons, but you have none. Even if you had any, you simply shove them in the corner and look for others, for these reasons are too old to convince your own thought process. You are haunted, but you are not scared. You are happy, but you are sad. Something similar to male hormonal overflow, a PMS of a sort. You itch to move, but moving itches your legs. You bend to scratch, but your back pains. You feel impregnated by your own sexual experimentation, but you hate being pregnant. Those days come more often to man’s life then a woman’s days.
Sometimes when I try finding answers for my own confusions, I am left dizzy. It’s philosophical, but least adaptive. You can’t live your days and nights are lonely. You wonder around your alleys, and yet you shoot nothing. You seduce your own brain to commit to your felony, but the guilt within you leaves you gasping for breath. You hate yourself, but you love the girl next door. You wish to end it all, but then you find reasons for not doing so, and would settle for anything and everything including the fact that your cigarette is half lit. You procrastinate again. Your head spins, you take a pill, and then semiconscious you decided to puke it out. You look up, and you find its dark, you carry strike your Zippo only to find you are out of fuel. You look in the pack next to you, you have a greater disappointment, and your cigarettes are gone. You run down the stairs, and you find your lift man half asleep, you look into his pocket, find useless pieces of paper and some currency crumpled. You are ready for a cheroot but you don’t deserve that. You curse your stars, and it’s already raining. You mount your car, only to find that you forgot the keys. You run back, get the keys, but car won’t start, you forgot the mechanics appointment. You ask yourself, why does this happen to me, don’t I deserve my cigarette? And your prayers are answered, the parking guy comes checking, you borrow a couple of cheroots and give up the idea of driving a mile. But now you have something more intriguing, your car won’t start early morning, you have a client waiting for his financial figures at 9, it’s already half past three at night. You yell “I am screwed”, run to the kitchen to make a cup of black coffee, only to realize that your local home delivery guy called you to let you know that deliveries can’t be made and you need to pick up the stores, you don’t deserve that cup either.
If that wasn’t enough, the dinner you had last night starts yawning in your belly, you light up a cheroot and sit on the commode, but you ran out of water. Suckers forgot to fill the overhead tank, you search for some toilet paper, you clean your ass and decide to call up the house keeping and make them fill the tank. Its already 6 by then, your breakfast is gone, you dint even deserve a comfortable commode. When the taps starts running, you take a shower, use a deodorant, and comb your overgrown hairs, you hate your looks and you forgot to shave. You don’t panic; you use your auto shaver. Reaching the car you recall the last night, so you look under the hood, the plugs are dirty, you clean them and dirty your hands, you don’t bother, you use tissues, and you drive. Reach your office; only to find that client is gone holidaying to goa for a week, does that please you? No, it doesn’t, you have another client next week, you ask your secretary to call up the damn client, he picks up the phone only to tell you that his wife needed a break, you scare him with the tax rules and authorities, he doesn’t budge, you advise him to pay, he agrees, you are happy, but you soon realize you got to pay your credit card bill, the last date is tonight. You again yell “I am screwed”.
The moral of the story, you are screwed on the days like these. So get back to your desk, sit back on your lazy bum, and think, did you ever deserve a life like this? If not, then wait for your hormones to relax, and your PMS (Pre Marital Syndrome) to get over.
