Phagocytosis

After a grueling two weeks of unreasonably strenuous exams, it's nice to sit down and vent about something that has been bothering me for a long time.

McCormick and co. bought over MTR.

Simple enough on the face of it. Muliti-million dollar corporate giant buys over relatively small local leader in packaged foods. Amoeba engulfs food particle and grows. It's the way of the world and I understand it. In this case, however, it's a little difficult to accept.

Rooted though I am in the ideals of the free-market, it irks me that the US is slowly buying over India. It has already got a patent on Basmati Rice. Now, apparently, it has scored the Mavalli Tiffin Room. It bothers me that India is going through a cycle of events that in the past lead to the darkest period in its turbulent history. Perhaps I'm being a bit extreme, even irrational, but I cannot help but see a pattern. Could it be that the US, like it's European predecessors, will buy India and other developing countries and accrue a corporate empire that would equal or surpass the former Britannia? Could McCormick & co. be the twenty-first century East India Company?

I hope not.

Rejoice!

Rejoice! For the Lal's will finally have their vengeance. The Indian people shall finally see justice. Manu Sharma shall recieve his sentence tomorrow(probably a jail sentence, not hanging)!!

What say you? Should Sharma die?

Welcome to India :)

"Welcome to India" a parody by Mc Vikram and Luda Krishna
Adapted from "Welcome to Atlanta" by Ludacris.

Yaa, MC Vikram and Luda Krishna representing you,
That's right ... increase the volume please ... thank you.
Welcome to India, mango juices and lassi,
samosa crazy desisand little kids that are milking the bhainses.
Toothbrush in my pocket, what is that?
We use our fingers here to keep our teeth clean, who said that?
Luda Krishna here, Vikram owns the Tata gears,
and I'm sitting in the Maruti Supreme, with the cooling glass on no one bothers me.
because stars since the ever famous Mamooty.
Come with me to a place where we sip Frooties
and we eat the sweets while monkeys roam the streets.
Old uncle sits - big belly and very smelly (burp!)
Thank you Vikram, would you please pass the jelly
I mean the pickle, hand it down this way, no mistake.
We greet the people at the end of the day!
Sixty five people hanging out the door, sweat coming out the pores.
Therefore, please don't raise your hand, you are not sure.
I broke into the local corner-store,
bought myself a very nice looking carrom board.
My fingers get sore when I shoot and I score,
and the ladkis all scream coz they all want some more,
of the Luda Krishna and the Vikram MC,
Sweetest things to hit the States since Mango Chutney.
We keep the kundis shaking, you better trust me.
The name is Luda Krishna, but my friends call me thambi, what!? (burp!)
Ohhh, Vikram, is that you my friend?!
That is me my friend!
Oh, please enter this rap game!
Ok man! C'mon ... tell me where you are going my friend.
Welcome to India where the cows eat hay,
and we drive auto-rickshaws everyday,
Goat-meat, yummy sweets while monkeys roaming,
The roosters don't crow till five in the morning!
(2x)Now the kundis don't jiggle till I am rapping,
So please don't pass the gas when you are laughing.
Up the music charts like mango trees I climb,
With a smooth voice like mine, is it a crime
Representing rap music since ninety seven?
Rap maharaja, I don't work at 7-Eleven.
Throw your hands in the air if you've got facial hair,
Not just for the guys, c'mon ladies be fair!
I'm the MFCs most obvious player,
Wearing hot lungis, do you think I really care?
Monday night - computer club,
Tuesday night - at Akbaar rotary saying "Sweet thing, what is up?
"Wednesday - I'm out making Rupees
Thurday - On the lookout for Bharatnatyam queen
Friday - Everybody must know where I'm at,
coz I'm chilling on the field with my big cricket bat.
Saturday - my farts are breezy ... believe me,
so strong they will get you mad dizzy,
Sunday - Yaar, I cannot start weeping
because on Monday I will start the creeping .. Hallo!
Ohhhh ... I love that my friend!
Yaa dawg, that was funda-stic.
Hey thank you, you're fabulous!
Oh, thank you my friend!
Oh ...Welcome to India where the cows eat hay,
and we drive auto-rickshaws everyday,
Goat-meat, yummy sweets while monkeys roaming,
The roosters don't crow till five in the morning!
(2x)Oh, oh, Go Luda, go Luda.
Ah, its my b'day!
That is your b'day man!
Yaaaaah. You go boy!
Oh oh oh ... it's great!
Ah, Indian my friend.
Good night!
Alright, goodbye ... kiss my buttocks!!

Domestic Struggles

Gasp! November 11th? Has it been that long? The truth is that I have been drowning in the sands of wasted time. My own fault entirely.

The problem with a stainless steel plate is that it refuses to let you eat. It plays a cruel game of hard to get. As you lower your hand to tear off a piece of hot roti, it glints maliciously as it swivels away from you and comes to a stop right where your food is farthest from your hand. So you try to maneuver your hand, arm, body, chair, table and house in such a manner that you will be able to tear the roti on your stainless steel plate without it evading your every move. When this fails, you try to negotiate politely with it, offer reasonable terms for its co-operation during meals; a gentle, all-natural, lemon-scented cleaning liquid with anti-aging properties, its own personal rack in the kitchen pantry far away from all the ceramic riff-raff, a jaccuzzi. But all your offers fall to deaf ears. When temptation fails, you begin to threaten it; you will banish it to the puja room to live out its days in a thick, gooey paste of kumkum and sesame oil, or worse, you will give it to your little sister to use in her "indoor activities." But your ultimatums ellicit absolutely no response. Finally, you resort to underhanded methods. You cleverly pretend to be watching Grey's Anatomy, or reading about the antics of the revered CM and his progeny until your plate lets its guard down. Then you pounce. It doesn't work, believe me. The thair catori goes flying across the room, dal splatters all over the wall, pulav carpets the floor and the plate winks up at your stunned face in innocent amusement.

What then?

The wind has blown a sly calm over the sea.
The rays gently tinge the surface with gold.
It gives me a false sense of security.
For in my mind, the hawk still flies and the
regal grey wolf still serenades the moon.
Can my brave page have reached the shores of Neverland?

And yet in doubt, I must soldier on and
save for a rainy day. When the bomb is
dropped and in the rough lies not a diamond
but a slithering blue serpent....
What then?

The Old, The New

I am in a strupor...sooper...aargh..stupor. Self-imposed insomnia will do that to you.
Anyway, I thought I'd break away from tradition and put up a story that is strictly normal, though it is, in my opinion, one of the best I've ever written. I wrote it way back in the 9th standard, so it's a bit primitive. I think that contributes to its charm.



MADRAS MONSOON

It was the monsoon of ’73. It would have seemed to the beholder that a great hole in the sky had been unplugged through which buckets of water were pouring onto the streets of Madras. Thunder rolled overhead. Lightning flashed, illuminating the lone figure of Ramachandra Babu.

“Why me?” thought Ramachandra as he slowly squelched his way down 13th cross. Why was he not home, safe and warm, with his newspaper in front of him and a cup of hot coffee in his hand? Why wasn’t he at home in the front veranda with his wife fussing over him? Why was he the only person out on a Sunday evening in the torrential rain with an utterly inadequate broken umbrella ? “Life simply isn’t fair,” thought Ramachandra.

He trudged dismally onwards. Something small and dirty collided with him. Ramachandra staggered backwards with the impact and almost fell into a muddy gutter. He peered through the almost opaque sheet of rain and spotted a small, dirty, naked creature. The child just ignored him and rejoined a group of street urchins with whom he had been playing. They splashed around in the muddy gutter with screams of delight.

Ramachandra stopped for a moment to contemplate the simplicity of a child’s mind. Something as gross as a dirty gutter brought so much joy into a child’s world. The young mongrels reminded him so much of his own childhood. A time that seemed eons away ; before the responsibilities of adulthood had wrinkled his forehead.

A clap of thunder followed by another strong gust of wind broke his reverie. He took one last wistful look at the screaming children. With a sigh, he pulled his coat a little more securely around himself and took a firmer hold of his umbrella. Shivering, he continued to slowly plough his way through the muddy road.

Life has been surprisingly courteous to me over the past week. Nothing outrageous to report, nothing licentious to complain about. Infact, life at present is akin to a page full of .......s. But I'm not complaining.

I was recently alerted by a dear friend of the existence of a most intriguing and amusing piece of art.I hope to acquire it in the near future. If I do, I will be sure to put a picture up for all to see. Then I will proceed to dissect its many subtleties and tear them to shreds with entirely justified derision.

Can't wait!

Yours Truly

Something to think about, and hopefully do something about.

"Look at the cell phone. The phone has a little mineral in it called coltan. It is a capacitor that intensifies the energy that enables this little machine to send signals. Coltan is mainly mined in the eastern Congo, by thousands of people living and digging in the forest. They need meat. Therefore they eat gorillas and elephants. So your little cell phone helps kill gorillas. Then you had a cup of tea this morning. Somewhere rainforest is falling to plant more tea."


Source:
Interview with George B. Schaller, The Hindu
http://www.hindu.com/2006/09/23/stories/2006092305741100.htm

“First they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they fight you, then you win.”

- M.K. Gandhi

In the Land of the Free

It seems to me, that our nation's leaders read the constitution. They read it and promptly tore it, threw the peices on the floor of their beloved parliament house and walked all over them.

Our wonderful government; the one that celebrates Rajyotsava day with great pomp and splendour every year, the one that sits in the shade of Kanteerava Stadium sipping nimbu paani and watches as primary school children sweat in the noon sun waiting to dance, sing and entertain for their majesty's pleasure; the very same government has now proposed to ban all Hindi and English songs from the radio.

In the land that we call Karnataka, the land of the free and the home of the Digs, plans to build new roads and to conserve the city's greenery never make it past the omnipresent line of shoe-throwing, pot-bellied hypocrites, but plans to remove all semblence of good music off the radio will. Without a doubt.

This really is the last straw. It is one thing to preserve our indigenous culture and language. It is another to tie us down and force it down our throats.

Forget infringement of fundamental rights. Prohibition of non-Kannada songs would force alot of successful radio stations out of business. RJ's are already leaving Bangalore for more liberal, and I dare say, more reasonable states. Economic opportunities for all?

Dude, you're off your rocker!

The Experiment of Life

Objective:
To cross the bottomless pit that leads straight to Hell.


Apparatus:
A single swinging rope hanging from an unknown part of the sky.


Theory:
At the bottom of the bottomless pit { :) } lies all manner of pain and ugliness. On the other side lies the closest thing one can find to happiness.

Note:For true happiness, one must give up one's material possesions and live the life of a buddhist monk with a shaved head, dressed in a saffron rag in a mud hut bang in the middle of the Siachen glacier.


Procedure:
1. Pray a little before you begin.
2.Stand 10 feet from the ledge of the bottomless pit.
3.Wait for the swinging rope to come as possible to the edge of the abyss.
4. Take a running leap and grab hold of the oscillating rope just as it begins to swing back to wherever the hell it came from.
5. Ride it safely to the other side.

Result:
Happiness and satisfaction...or the closest one can get to it without actually giving up one's Ferrari (see theory).

Precautions:
1. Time your leap such that you don't drop into the abyss thereby sentencing yourself to burn for all eternity.
2. Do nothing to stimulate the sweat glands during the duration of the journey.
3. Do NOT look down or to the northeast.

Note: To the northeast lies the entire cast of Baywatch Hawaii.

Sources of Error:
1. One may make the mistake of reading this experiment.

Interesting

..and quite funny actually. The following is an extract from an article in The Hindu online.

"Change is unceasing. I am told that the thumbs of modern children are evolving into ordinary fingers. As their speech reverts to grammar-free neanderthal grunts, their preferred form of communication is the text message, requiring a new digital dexterity. As we slither back down the evolutionary chain we would do well to know where we are heading."

- Simon Jenkins

Read the complete article here.

My life is crap.

Madness

Ah blogger, it has been too long.

What I am about to tell you may shock you. It may leave you stunned. It may cause your parasympathetic nervous system to overload and your cerebellum to capsize leaving you twitching helplessly on the floor. I find that in such cases, a strong cup of chocolate flavoured coffee helps.

When I boarded the tiny bus to Woody's, I was aware of the risk I was taking. To board the small school bus is to sign your own death warrant. The driver is mad. Every few seconds, you will see passengers bouncing off the walls and hanging from the roof by their ears. Your body will undergo a series of Gibb's energy changes leading to the superimposition of waves in the pericardial fluid. Essentially, your brain will shoot out of your ears and will be instantly devoured by the screaming kids.

Those kids are scary.

After spending 20 minutes in what I have come to believe is Dante's fifth circle of hell, we got down at Woody's. Interestingly, it was here that we concocted the worst drink the world has ever had the good fortune never to have tasted (I think there's something wrong with that sentence construction, but as I am presently high on sugar and coffee, I am unable to put my finger on it.) For those adventurous enough to try it, the recipe is as follows:

1 cup citric acid
3 spoons coffee (black)
2 spoons of panneer butter masala
1 cup coke(alternatively, one can use an equal quantity of common pesticide)
2 spoons thaingai chutney

Don't say you weren't warned.

....not one of my best posts..but give me some time. I'm out of shape.

A letter to the Taras

Voluntary warning out of good intentions and decaying logical sequences:
The following matter may be innapropriate for children, the aged, those suffering from unmitigated nasal discharge and anyone whose name is Ugranarasimha Veeralakshminarayana Bin Tughlaq. Dirty supervision is recommended.

Hail oh alpha tambrahms!

I give you much thanks for your highly enlightening medium of communication which in all its insipid glory has thrown to light new vistas of hopelessness in the complex nature of our existences.

Why yes, I did get the point, which may or may not exist, and which by following logical thought (whose own definition remains unclear), proves that our existences as complex or abstract beings is in question. Ah...the infinitely confusing and rather boring depths of existentialism. It has driven the best of us mad. Infact, just this morning, a certain person A was going into involuntary spasms over the fact that her economy-sized ego consisted entirely of displacement reactions.

I seem to be rambling, which is definitely a good thing because it leaves my mind with infinite potential to focus. That I am currently not actually focussing on anything of note is besides the point(which may or may not exist).

From your confused, slightly crazy friend,
At a cerebral frequency of 435643 Hz,

Dhadi

sssshhh....

.....big brother is watching.

sigh..

It was a sad, sad day when what entered the world as a quart-sized premature baby decided to ponder on the complexities of a falling apple instead of eating it (like any sensible person would do) and single-handedly created the bane of high school existence.

Immemorialised on the covers of the most mind-blowingly boring textbooks in the world, he has cultivated my hate and abject loathing since the 8th grade.

Stupid man, I bet his wife left him and he turned into a bum on the streets of wherever it was he lived....Newton I believe. What nonsense!

.....contd

Day 3..............miscellaneous















The Dirties have the floor





















Courtesy of Bhavani ma'am

SEEK

My Dirties on Day 1



The proud Taras.

Pav Bajji-phrenia

Food was so bad, the only thing you could do was laugh.

Phenom - setting up for its mind-blowing performance

Pools of black have no depth

Pools of black have no depth.
I wish I could look into a sea that had shades of mauve and gold and blue and silver.
I wish i could see purity and experience what it is to be pure.
I wish I could hear liberty ring.
I wish I could smell vitality.

But all I see are shallow brown pits,
Overflowing with hypocracy and deceit.
All I hear are malvolent lies.
All I smell is the dust of defeat.

I cannot help but feel shallow
Feel hollow
Feel pain
Feel desperation

How I long for pools of green.

Humming Under My Breath

Sunny days hmm hmm hmm
Hmmmmmmm hmm hmmm....
I'm on hmm hmmm
Nanana air daadaaaa....

Can you tell me haaanaa naaa
Naa naaa na hmm hmm hmm hmmm...
hmm hmmm hmmmh mmm mmmm......

Quick Conv III

Conscience: Hey! You should be....
Me: Oh shut up.
Conscience: OK.

Oh thank God I found you. I had the most horrible day today and I've been looking all over for an audience to whom I can pour forth my innumerable, unreasonable, illogical woes sans annoying interuptions.

It started out pretty much the same as usual; studying frantically for a bio test in the bus and deciding somewhere along the way to give up and pray that fate would kick in just this once and help me get a respectable score ( I hate fate). So far so good. But at around 10:00, after the bio test during which fate resolutely turned its back on me, we were told to go down to attend a lecture by the director of Amity Law School, Delhi. So we all traipsied down to the basement, which by the way smelled horribly of the stale remains of cabbage and month old gas, and stood looking expectantly at the entrance. We waited...and waited.....and..waited(during this time all three yoga teachers came in, fiddled aimlessly with the sound system, lights, their clothes and hair and left). Just when we started to suspect that the whole thing was an elaborate and remarkably idiotic plan to trick us into doing yoga, the director showed up. That was the beginning of the most uncomfortable hour of my life. It went something like this....

" Good afternoon boys and girls. Amity Law School in Delhi was founded in 1998. I also founded NLS in 1989....so as I said ALS was founded in 1998..."

Oh God...my legs are dead. Maybe if I just sat in a different way...

" So as I said...I founded NLS in 1989..."

OK, now they hurt, bad idea...maybe I could move back to my original position. Oh God, why is Shubha staring at me like that?? I am so hungry...my stomach is going to fall out.

" ...I founded NLS, and I am director of ALS..."

Great and now I have to pee.

" So any questions?"

Can I please visit the toilet , Sir?

Mercifully, the lecture ended at 11 whereapon I forcibly restrained myself from running to the lavatory. However, I went there only to find myself at the end of a mile long que consisting predominantly of squealing babies whose ground floor toilet had been roped off to ensure silence in the area around the conference room where a meeting was being held. So basically, 500 plus students were now expected to share 3 stalls, one of which wasn't functional, in the span of 10 minutes. It was ghastly. Puddles of water overflowing, screaming kids splashing in the puddles, the stench of human...ahem...and its derivatives permeating our very souls, unflushed toilets. Gaa!!

The rest of the day, to tell you the truth was bearably normal. So I'll leave you now to mull over the shocking inadequacies of our school and my brain.

Girly Men

Though unfair, it is one of the sad facts of life that girly men are objects of ridicule and shame whereas manly women are treated with courtesy..and in many cases, respect.

Beckam....rumoured to prance around his house in frilly pink lingerie, his apparently undecided sexual affiliation makes him the butt of rather mean jokes. I think it is very unfair that he should be made fun of for the reasons that he is. The man makes several millions of dollars a year. His athletic ability is legendary. To top it all, he has had four children...with a woman!! An even if he was bi, I don't think that that should be any reason to pay him less respect. Angelina Jolie is bi, and she has done worse things than run around in pink panties (though come to think of it, the thought of her doing something like that would probably be met with ecstatic approval). She has actually bottled her blood and gifted it to one of her ex-husbands. But everyone still respects and/or fantasises about her.

James Blunt...I like this guy. So his music sucks, so he has long blond hair, so his voice is high pitched and slightly off-key. So what? I think his girlish good looks work well for him.

Michael Jackson...Actually, in his case, I think the ridicule is justified...so forget him.

HK...Look, you can't help how you talk. Some people are just born with a nasal voice that sounds like the mating calls of varying avian species. HK has innumerable admirable qualities. He is smart, gets good grades, and can act very convincingly as a woman. I think his portrayal of Mrs Mani in his skit at Lit Fest was commendable. But most importantly, he is extremely tolerant. Where anyone else would blow up and start brawling, he takes alot of unnecessary crap from the class in good stead. I have alot of respect for HK.

Panique de chocolat

Où a tout le chocolat allé ? ? ? Je dois avoir quelque chocolat ! ...aah beaucoup de mieux. C'est la vie.

A Revised Divine Geaneology

I spent Friday night sitting in the temple of Doom discussing the relationships that the mother of all Asuras and her numerous proginy share. Confusing as it is, I think I may have just about worked it out.

Aditi: Mother of the Devas and Father of Asuras, she is the creator and destroyer, the male and female (seizures of laughter), she is her own antithesis.

Hema: The daughter of Aditi.

Tara: The soul sister of Hema, and therefore the step-daughter of Aditi.

Vasudha: Tara's alter ego. Tara and Vasudha complete each other's sentences and thoughts. So that makes Vasudha Hema's step-soul sister, and Aditi's daughter once removed.

Shruti: In a new development, it has been discovered that Shruti is Hema's twin sister. So she is Aditi's daughter, Tara's alter soul sister, and Vasudha's alter souls sister once removed.

Whew!

On Religion

I find the concept of heaven slightly confusing. See, heaven is pleasure of the senses. So, anything that tastes, feels, looks, hears, smells good symbolises heaven. However, the seven deadly sins contradict that very definition of heaven. Gluttony is supposed to be a sin, but food makes us happy. Lust is a deadly sin, but of course sex makes us happy too. Isn't heaven all about the ultimate happiness? Eternal euphoria? Atleast it should be. It's supposed to be the exact opposite of Hell...which holds pain and suffering. So at the very least, heaven should hold comfort. Food and sex are comforting.

Some religions claim that heaven is supposed to free us of all desire so we are at peace. But in the absence of desire, people fall victim to chronic laziness...which is another deadly sin; Sloth.

So untill someone can enlighten me with alternate solutions, the only thing I can conclude is that heaven either doesn't exist, which is the most probable explaination, or it simply follows earthly laws where the consequences of fornication and stuffing your face are no more serious than law suits and smelly gas.

OTH vs OC

It is time now to discuss a question that falls under my favourite topic of conversation. TV shows. TV shows are my favourite mode of escapism. TV is like a book that does all the thinking for you. It takes you to a parallel universe where nothing is ever boring. Anyways....here is the ever-baffling question. Is the OC a better TV show than One Tree Hill?

The OC is about a rich white world. What initially catches your eye are the flashy clothes, the over the top jewellry, the mansions. And while the drama itself is pathetic bordering on stupid, the riches make you want to see more. Again, it is all about escapism. Who wants to know about a poor kids life when they can watch a neighbourhood of mansions and chanel?

On the other hand, One Tree Hill has beautiful people and none of them are the feel-like-slapping-her/him baby-face beautiful...like Marissa. Tree Hill is like a town full of Summers, with varying degrees of attitude. It also has a great deal of the most fundamental emotion that is severely lacking in the OC ; friendship. And sure, there are glimpses of the Seth-Ryan, Summer-Marissa friendships, but not nearly enough, and not with enough intensity. All the OC seems to be about are deaths, trauma and love affairs. One Tree Hill actually has a reasonable, if not great story-line. More importantly, it is centred around a basketball team, so if everything else sucks, there's always the scenes with the basketball games to make it interesting. The thing that OTH lacks, is finer touches. The direction, the cinematography, and in many cases, the acting leaves much to be desired.

So, does the good script, beautiful people and awesome basketball action beat the world of the rich and famous, good acting and direction and excellent music? It is an answer that I may never arrive at.

Illegitimis nil carborundum.

Don’t let the bastards get you down!

Depressed??

It seems to me that my generation seems to have sunk into inescapable self-made grey clouds of gloom. The clouds appear to be custom made to suit each individual; the colours of individual justification for low spirits may vary greatly, but the essential features of this "depression" seem to be mass manufactured. Here are some of my thoughts on why this is so.

I find it interesting that whenever a child draws a "happy" picture, it invariable contains a shining yellow sun, trees, birds and two or more people smiling...possibly holding hands. What it never contains are skyscrapers, cars spewing noxious fumes, and infact no sign of industrial development or any other sort of mechanization. At most, the picture may contain a cheerful brick house. I think that to the human mind, the drab shades of a metropolis represent complications, responsibilities, anxiety, and ugliness in every form; something that we all strive throughout our lives to escape. A large income provides us the means to create artificial serenity. It enables us to surround ourselves with the calming, invigorating colours and sounds of nature; the blue of the backyard swimming pool, the green of the front garden, chirping birds in the birdhouse hanging from the porch roof; the essentials of a natural environment while we still retain complete control. We strive to acquire money to be able to escape the ugliness that surrounds us because it dampens our spirits and gives us a discomfiting sense of foreboding. That's why people prefer the suburbs to the city.

The self-absorption of the me generation may also contribute towards "depression". Self-professed depression could merely be a way to grab attention. Alternately, it may be a way to confirm one's coolness. It is very unhip to show happiness, or to display emotion in any form. Again, it may be that depression is confused with outright boredom, something that seems to have gripped the present generation. What is interpreted as depression may simply be the widespread lethargy, listlessness, incompetence and total ineffectualness that seems endemic in the me generation.

A Mindless Conversation

Concience: Really! You have gone too far this time!
Me: What?
Con: An OC Marathon? You wasted 5 hours straight. You didn't even get up to pee. That kind of computer time is bad for you. BAD!
Me: Whatever. I'm gonna go get some icecream now.
Con: Now, if I was in imminent danger of losing my eyesight and the use of my brain, tell me how getting icecream would help me.
Me: It wouldn't. It would make you fat.
Con: WRONG. It would make YOU fat.
Me: Bitch.

The Colours of My Life

I haven't really written anything of note lately for which I do not apologise. For the past week or so I have had a horrible sense of foreboding, though I have no clear image of what may happen to me ( the things that can go wrong at this point and ruin my life are innumerable ). I felt like writing would only serve to heighten the feeling because the things I write about are usually so inconsequential. I think it also has something to do with the colour of my blog page. Blue, especially that shade, seems so calm and innocent. So much so that it mocks me. Yes, that has to go.

In other news, I have no other news. My life seems to have taken the semblance of a grey wall. There is of course the odd spot of red, a few dashes of blue, green and yellow, but these are conspicuously infrequent. Ah well, I suppose it's better than a wall of black.

On football. The enthusiasm boys have showed in the past for football seems to have escalated to near fanaticism. It's effects are pasted all over the web, newspapers, conversations and status messages. But what confirms my belief in the level of zealotry that has claimed boys is the fact that they seem to have replaced pictures of bikini-clad women with pictures of ... well, I don't really know enough to match most faces with names... soccer players. The entire male population seems to be consumed by World Cup Mania.

On family. My brother has convinced himself that he has abs. He infact treated me to an exclusive glimse of his "abs" which turned out to be .... his ribs. My sister insisted on joining horse-riding lessons again though she is scared of going faster than a slow trot. The rest of my family is not applicable for discussion the reasons being a) they are older than me and hence, have the power to punish me. b) I suspect they read my blog and while I am not entirely sure, I would prefer not to take a chance by releasing potentially lethal information.

I seem to have missed something out. No matter. It is almost certain that it is of very little importance and very probably mind-numbingly boring.

A quick conversation with my conscience...

Conscience: What are you doing on the net again. Get back to work.
Me: What work? I have no work.
Conscience: Word lists, records, bio tests...
Me: OK OK. Fine, I have work. I'll do it later.
Con: You said that and hour ago....and an hour before that..and..
Me: Later hasn't come yet, OK? Now leave me alone.
Con: I will just say one thing...mother.
Me: I HATE YOU!!!
Con: Likewise I'm sure. Now what are you going to do now?
Me: Get off the comp.
Con: Good. And then?
Me: Get some chocolate.
Con: ....OK. We'll work on that.

Random thoughts..

Who am I? ........ I'm Spiderman.

I LOOOOOVE GREY'S ANATOMY. Meredith and Derek are soooo cute!!!

I want Elliot Yamin to win American Idol.

Ten out of ten for a race already run
Bleeding the world cause you can't figure out what's wrong

So come back down from your daydream high
Lost for words when you sympathize
There's a million ways to believe you tried
Well I'm Unsatisfied

Unsatisfied
Just sick and tired of all I've tried
Unsatisfied

I hate grammar. Grammar sucks! ...and English is hard!

Misunderstood

As I was looking around for music yesterday, an interesting thought struck me. Most of the songs with so called meaningful lyrics were about depression, drugs and being misunderstood.

Firstly, I don't think dark lyrics necessarily qualify something as meaningful. I think lyrics based on the singer's experiences are meaningful..and they don't have to always be so morbid. It could be about love or the nice things in life.

Secondly, maybe its just me, but being misunderstood has become something of a fad lately. I guess it just satisfies rebellious feelings on some level. Makes us almost feel like we belong to a cult. The darkness, the gloom, just makes us feel....cool. While I certainly don't deny that there are artists whose lives are exactly as such songs portray, I am far from convinced that all of them are. This is just the kind of music that sells. That's why they make them. Likewise love songs.

Let me give you examples of songs that are based on life but not necessarily love or depression.
I'm never speaking up again by John Mayer is about an uncomfortable date. It's quite funny actually. Daughters by the same artist is about neglectful parents. Most of the Coldplay songs are quite astute. Photograph, which is immensely popular, is reminiscent of childhood.

My Computer

I finally got a cd writer. Now i will be able to rescue my computer from the excesses of virtual memory that I have dumped on it.
You know the saying, you will appreciate the full worth of something only when you are threatened with its loss? Well, interestingly and disturbingly, as I watched the computer person dissect my computer, it dawned on me just how much I love it. It was like watching someone operating on a loved one. I winced everytime he removed a part. And I forceably suppressed a sigh when he put in the writer and closed up the pc (? is that what its called? my knowledge of technical terms is not extensive by any stretch of imagination).

Which brings me to a related question. Is it wrong that we are now as attached to electronic media as we might be to a pet? That we would miss our computers as much as we would miss a departed friend? Or is it simply evidence of our sophistication? Is our emotional detachment from the human aspects of our life of no consequence?(by emotional detachment I am refering to extreme cases in which the subject lives and breathes virtual reality). Though a growing cause for concern, I think it is merely a side-effect of the life we all strive for. A life of sophistication, information, globalisation. It was bound to happen. One cannot be expected to give up an ideal to avoid a side-effect. Especially since it is an ideal that cannot be modified, a packaged deal; the addiction is a necessary part of it.

Another interesting thought...this could be (or perhaps already is) a potential source of income for psychologists. Not to mention philosophers (sardonic grin).

Essentially, as computers take over the planet, we will be sucked deeper and deeper into a world as wide as a plasma screen. Where the living and breathing will be pictures and downloadable media.

Dadadadaaaaaaaan.

Troy

Once again, it is 1:00 am, and I have just finished watching another "classic". Only this time, instead of screaming men, dwarves, hobbits, elves, trees and other miscellaneous creatures, I watched screaming men only (quite good-looking ones I might add) for around 3 hours. This is perhaps the 3rd time I have watched Troy. The first two times were great. I came away singing praises in the name of all things associated with Eric Bana (who played Hector). But somehow, this time, it failed to impress me.

Basically, the movie is about an epic fight between Greece and Troy. The battle of of all battles. Fought over the hand of the most beautiful woman in the world, Helen. Helen is the wife of the Greek king's brother. She runs away with the handsome playboy prince of Troy, Paris (played by Orlando Bloom). So, obviously, Greece goes to Troy to bring her back, and in the process, to add Troy to their vast empire. But to defeat the Trojans, they need the greatest warrior in known world, Achilles, who is played by none other than.....Brad Pitt. So, for all practical purposes, Achilles leads the Greeks into war against the Trojans who are lead by Hector; warrior prince and heir to the throne of Troy....confusing?

Which brings me to the actors. My favorite character by far was Hector. I think it is commendable the way Eric Bana managed to maintain his sex-appeal even while delivering all those cheezy dialogues. Hector had my sympathy and admiration through the whole movie. Achilles, Brad Pitt's character, only managed to give me an overpowering urge to reach into the tv screen and whack him over the head. Achilles is supposed to be the hero...someone the audience roots for. Apart from trying but failing utterly to talk in a British accent, Brad wears only one expression throughout the entire movie, and it isn't even a good one. Paris was simpering, and talked in a nauseatingly affected manner, but that was the way the character was supposed to be, and I think Orlando Bloom did a good job with that.

Ok..outstanding moments..well, there weren't too many. But I particularly liked the conversation between King Priam(of Troy), played by Peter O' Toole, and Achilles. Also, Priam's expression when he sees Troy burning and when he is stabbed to death by Agemmemnon, the Greek king. Hell, I loved all the Priam moments. But the best part was at the very end. With the background of a haunting, soulful Arabic mourning song, the following was said...

....let it be said that I lived in the time of Hector.......

....let it be said...that I lived in the time...of Achilles.

Bloody Dialects!

I find it very interesting how the same emotion is expressed in so many different ways in different places. For example, and unpleasant surprise in..

England it's Bloody Hell!
US it's Oh crap! or God!
India its invariably Shit!
In Italy it's Mama mia...(My mother) and so on.

The wierd habit of insulting people with refences to their blood...in what context i don't know, has of late been of interest to me. Presumably the amount that covers their exterior, but I can't be sure. I mean, how is that supposed to be offensive? Bloody idiot. In my book, being called an idiot would be offensive. But the prefix.....not so much.

For those who procrastinate as often as I

The World Spins Madly On
by The Weepies

I woke up and wished that I was dead
With an aching in my head
I lay motionless in bed
I thought of you
And where you’d gone
Let the world spin madly on

And everything that I’d said I’d do
Like make the world brand new
And take the time for you
Just got lost
And stepped right through the dawn
And the world spins madly on.

And I let the day go round
And I always say good bye
I watch the stars from my windowsill
The whole world is moving
and I’m standing still

I woke up and wished that I was dead
With an aching in my head
I lay motionless in bed
The night is here
And the day is gone
And the world spins madly on

Thought of you
And where you’d gone
And the world spins madly on

Before you die music updates

good morning! im arundhati murthy and here are today's music updates...

forty foot echo - drift
smashmouth - peace frog
modest mouse - the ocean breathes salty, 3rd planet
jason mraz - 0% interest
the weepies - world spins madly
carlos santana - just feel better
zero 7 - destiny

thank you for looking at today's music updates. this is arundhati murthy for random thoughts.

The Lord of the Snores

It's 1 in the morning and I just finished watching the third part of The Lord of the Rings Trilogy. I'd just like to say, that it may be a little slow watching the first 100 hours of the Lord of the Rings; your eyes may slide out of focus and you may start to drool a little...but towards the end of the 789th hour, things actually start to pick up. For me, the most outstanding moment was when the ring finally drops into the fires of Mordor. It symbolises how ultimately evil catches up with itself; it burns in the fires of a self-made inferno.
But seriously, this thing won a record-breaking 12(?) oscars. I mean, sure, the elf-princess looked a little cross-eyed, not to mention retarded, Frodo was made out to be some sort of glorified Achilles towards the end, and the humour was...well...let's just say that I have made better jokes than that. But all in all a good movie. Although if I had to pick between the book and the movie, I would pick the book every time.

And now, I'm sitting here and wondering why I took so long to make another post. I typically have a new one up atleast every other day. And I realize that its become a chore to make myself think of new things to write about. That suddenly, the neverending source from which I draw my sarcasm seems to be running out....maybe I should discontinue this blog? Gasp! Think not such treasonous thoughts my young friend. Do you not see yon light that shineth so brightly? Take hope in the novelty of a new day. Let that light shine apon you like a beacon of divinity that it may strengthen your weary mind and .....ok that's enough. For those of you who didn't get the satire, that was a play on the dialogues from The Lord of the Rings.

Haha! You thought you could actually escape my daily (almost) incomprehensible humour? NEVER!

The Kite Runner

Written by Khaled Hosseini, spread over a span of 35 years, The Kite Runner is about the life of Amir, a young Afghan. Young, motherless Amir longs for his father's affection. In an attempt to finally win his father's approval, he enters a kite-flying contest. Aided by his Hazara friend, Hasan, Amir wins. But that day is the day when Amir and Hassan's lives are to change forever. For that is the day when they comes face to face with evil, and leave childhood behind.
The Russians invade Afghanistan and Amir and his father flee to America. But the memory of what occured on that fateful day continues to haunt Amir untill he returns to Afghanistan to face his fears.

Through the eyes of a spectator, Hosseini tells a tale of betrayal, guilt, love and redemption. He strikes a perfect balance between fact and emotion. He describes the socio-economic conditions in Afghanistan by example rather than directly. I admire his direct approach to the ugly side of human nature. I especially liked his interpretation of the Taliban - the fanatics and extreme patriots.

An awesome book - a real page turner. While reading it one experiences a depth of emotion similar to that felt while watching RDB. It will bring a lump to your throat, tears to your eyes, and a smile to your face. A tremendous story.

Trivial Ambiguities

There are a few things that confuse me.

Like where Aditi fits in the equation of divine geaneology. Aditi is supposed to be the mother of Hema, and the father of the Gods...which means that Hema is the Gods' first cousin and Aditi is Hema's uncle. So it follows that Aditi is her own brother...or sister depending on where you're starting from.
And apparently, she's married to the mother of the asuras who's gender is as yet undecided. So that makes the poor demon mater Hema's uncle, aunt, step-mother and step-father. Like-wise the Gods.

.... Chari's educational qualifications. She is supposed to have passed her MSc but she's incapable of doing 12th standard physics. She can't teach. She can't control the class. She can't even buy opaque blouses.

.... the school bus timings. Theoretically, the buses are supposed to leave at 1:00 when our classes end. But today they were supposedly waiting on teachers who were still working in the Comp Lab. Teachers who neither came nor existed.

Not in the mood to really write...

....so I'm going to make one of my boring lists. But not music this time, I promise. I am going to make irrational comparisons between our teachers and other animals(notice the conspicuous use of the word "other".)

1. Bio Lady...reminds me soooo much of a grass hopper. Because she almost always dresses in some shade of green or brown and also because her eyes are always so cold.

2. Chari....a cow. If you tilt your head to one side and close one of your eyes, you can almost see her chewing cud.

3. Math Lady....a pumpkin. Don't ask me why. The list is supposed to be irrational.

Hmm...actually I can't really think of anything the Chem or English Ladies remind me of, so I'm gonna end the list here.

Oh, I have to share this with the world. It had me in splits (actually, it had me in seizures, I don't think I am physically capable of doing a split. I've tried and it hurt) when I first heard it(from, guess who? Tara.)

Apparently, a year or so ago, some rowdies started creating trouble in front of our school. I think one their wives who was working at Kumarans and had left him, or some such thing. Anyway, they started spewing out colloquial curse words like a fountain (which I think were aimed at our beloved and most revered principal) and started throwing stones at the walls and stuff. All of this went ignored untill it had attracted a sizable crowd of students who proceeded to cheer them on as a nation would cheer its freedom fighters. It was at this juncture that Sundherkantha stepped in. Like a bespectacled Mahatma, she came, hand raised in a gesture of peace...and one of the guys knocked out her teeth.

Hahaha. She wore a hanky tied around her head to cover the front of her mouth for a week after that. It used to flutter when she spoke. I had seen her during this bandit queen phase, and I had heard of the local uprising...but I hadn't known the two were connected till now.

Typically American

Was looking for the lyrics of Numa Numa by Ozone, and I came across the English Translation. These were the comments that were written under it which i found hilarious. (Numa Numa is from the Chicken Little Soundtrack by the way.)


what the hell langugage was this in to begin with?

helloooo what language was it in its killing me

This song is in Romanian.

it is italian

tell me the lang.

plleeeeeeeeeeeesssssssssssssseeeeeeeeeee eee

is it spanish?

hey! i dont understand a bit also but i still like it.Its coooooooooL

PAKISTANI!!!!!

its in f***ing Romanian u mindless idots!!!!

Its Romaian my coaches are Romanian and yah its that

ITS ROMOANIAN!!!!!

**ROMANIAN

i really want this song downloaded. Anyone wanna help me out? lol

i downloaded it using iMesh

in spanish this song is call pluma pluma gay =S

i can sing the song for real i just dont feel like typing it up on here -_-’

^_^ i totaly love the song!

What ever language its in its still fucking brill!

ITS GERMAN RETARDS I TAKE GERMAN

i heard dis song before. wit da fat dude singing

i heard dis be4 wit da fat dude singing

fat dude

btw, its roman dudes

Who sing this song

ITS FUKIN KILLING ME WHO SINGS THIS!!!!!!!

WHATS THE ARTISTS NAME!!

O ZONE AND THEY ARE ROMANIAN..YOU ALL ARE RETARDED!

Latest Additions

and they are

Drops of Jupiter - Train
The Scarlet Tide - Alison Krauss

And I quote...

from this reeeeaallly awesome episode of One Tree Hill. I swear, I love these lines. I know I've sent this to everyone I know already, but they are just so meaningful. It's what they say in the background when Jimmy shoots himself and Dan shoots Keith.

Does this darkness have a name?

this cruelty, this hatred?

How did it find us?

Did it steal into our lives?

Or did we seek it out and embrace it?

What happened to us?

That we now send children into the world like we send young men to war,

hoping for their safe return,but knowing that some will be lost along the way.

When did we lose our way?

Consumed by the shadows, swallowed whole by the darkness.

Does this darkness have a name?

Is it your name?

Human Greatness

Martin Luther King, Gandhi, Beethoven...these are names that inspire. When you hear their stories; their pain, their suffering, and how in the face of so much adversity, they overcame, you cannot help but bow to their greatness. But these names, and so many others, are but names in a book of history. In this world of rage and apathy, are there still those to whom we can look up in awe? Is there someone who can inspire a people ruled by the gods of marijuana and alcohol?

Human greatness is supposed to be a reason for us to believe again. A tiny light in a in a sea of futility and despair. It is now, however, simply a product of commercialism.

Today, you are what the media makes you. You are as great as the products you endorse. Wanna feel as great as Scholes? Wear Nike. Yeah dude, like..just do it and stuff. Yeah, Lance Armstrong's my idol, man. I wear a Livestrong band.

That's our tribute to human greatness. Creating and propogating a lifestyle.

Successfully Spliced

The chains that bound me to my chair were stronger than iron, my very essence throbbed with the futility of escape, and try as I may to ignore them, the horrid faux eyebrows caught my eyes and held them in a vice-like grip. I was stuck in the physics lab for another hour....

But let's not waste time on mere details. I have been advised by many to learn the art of separating the essentials from the irrelevant. Indeed, my mother tells me often enough that everything I claim to need is irrelevant...but again, I digress. This is a summary of the most significant of today's events in chronological order.

(none)

OK. That was relatively easy. My life expressed in a word. But more on that later. Now, I would like to make a few additions to my must listen to music list. They are as follows...

Love is only a feeling - The Darkness
Jesus of Suburbia - Green Day
Africa - Toto

And for those of you who may be interested, which I am guessing is no one, a new OTH episode will be showing today. The entire town reverberates with the deaths of Keith and Jimmy.
That was the episode summarized in a sentence...I am improving!

until next time...

Picture Perfect

and aren't they just? Just looking at this pic puts a smile on my face.

The Day the Music Died

Music...real music is an abstract projection of human life. Alot of people think that the kind of music I like is crap. But I think GOOD music, is something that brings out your most primitive emotions. Just listening to it will make you smile, or make you feel empty, or make you ache. Sure, Linkin Park and Guns and Roses and similar bands make COOL music. But those songs never make me suddenly feel free carefree, like The Remedy..or make my hair stand on end like Unwell...or make my throat clench and fill me with an inexplicable sadness like Yesterday.

Dunno why I'm writing this really...I guess I just really want to share that feeling. The feeling you get when you fall in love with music. When it becomes more than a tune and some lyrics. When it becomes a sort of concentrated emotion. I was just listening to Norah Jones..and well, you will probably laugh, but I just got that feeling again and I felt like I had to write about it...
I really hope you find it.

Here's the song I was listening to. It's called Nightingale by Norah Jones.

Nightingale
Sing us a song
Of a love that once belonged
Nightingale
Tell me your tale
Was your journey far too long?

Does it seem like I'm looking for an answer
To a question I can't ask
I don't know which way the feather falls
Or if I should blow it to the left

All the voices that are spinnin' around me
Trying to tell me what to say
Can I fly right behind you
And you can take me away

A Five-sided Farce

I don't really have a good picture of all of us to put up here (don't think the stupid thing would work even if I did). But I think I can safely say that most of you that read this would have seen us and know reasonably well what we look like.

So..let's go in alphabetical order(which I think is soo much better that what the Von Trappe family did, I mean, numbering children? There is something seriously wrong with that sort of psyche...so does that mean that roll numbers are proof that the educational establishment is deranged?).

Aditi...wow, I really admire this girl. She's just so dedicated to what she does. She knows exactly who she is and what she is about. She would never change for anyone or anything. There's something very stable, constant about Aditi (this obviously excludes the times when her mind unhinges and she proceeds to have apopoleptic seizures over the simplest of rhyming words..let me give you an example...dum and bum..). Unfortunately she also seems to obtain a particular pleasure in projecting liquids from various parts of her face onto innocent bystanders ; milk through her nose, water through her mouth, there was even an instance of tomato soup.

Hema...you know, I have always nurtured a very small feeling of jealousy for Hema. She's got it all. Brains, and alot at that, looks (please don't take this the wrong way), talent, and she is inspite of all this, in contradiction to popular stereotype, an extremely nice person. She's a romantic at heart, like me. She also has astonishing emotional volatility. She will be laughing her head off one minute and be crying the next (this is FYI, mostly in theatres, don't get the wrong idea..). Seriously, they should do a research project on it or something on it..

Tara...she's the glue that holds this dysfunctional group together. She's the one you go to when your feeling down. I think three-fourth of the time we spend together goes into laughing at her jokes. She just has this natural affinity towards people. Wherever she goes, she unconciously draws a crowd. It's like she just has to look at people and they're her best friends. I don't know what it is she uses, but she should bottle it and sell it.

Vasudha...she and I go back a long way. A long, rather emabarrassing way, that would best be forgotten, but none the less. We've sat together in the bus for 6 years. And the best part about that is, there is never any need for forced conversations or uncomfortable silences. I'm not a very conversational person at the best of times and she understands that, and accepts it without judgement. She's the one I make up silly stories with, and bitch about, certain people I would rather not name, with. Our latest venture has been "The adventures of Pretty Girl and Dream Boy" and its sequel, "The further adventures of Pretty Girl and Dream Boy".

We all hate each other, which is I think, the reason why we love each other so much (no I'm not crazy). Some of my best memories in the school have been with these four. So I guess, this is for you guys...don't know what I would do without you. I love you all so much.

Kumarans sucks?

Kumar recently posted an article on the general worthlessness of Kumarans. The long and short of it was this - we are paying the school to kick us out of classes and threaten us with expulsion.We shouldn't take all that crap. We should emulate rang de basanti and rebel.

With all due respect, I beg to differ. Our school's management is based on the principle of profit and loss. Their system, when broken down into black and white, is simple. We pay them for quality education, and we expect to see results. Now, if students refuse to co-operate in class, they won't learn. If they don't learn, they won't get results. If they don't get results, they would lose their customers, namely, our parents. Consumers aren't interested in the reason for the school's failure to teach their children. What they are interested in, is whether or not their child is finally performing or not. And if Kumarans cannot meet their demands, they will find another school that can.

No one who has been in one of our classes can honestly say that there is no need to threaten us to make us settle down and listen. At the end of the day, the school is just trying to do what they are paid to do. Make us learn.

As to the reason why we pay them...it's simple. As long as they're giving us what we want, we will continue to pay them. As soon as they stop, we will too.

It's nothing personal KR. This is just the way I see it.

Humour, ripped and burned

Here are some funny quotes. Aditi, you'll love this..

I will not eat oysters. I want my food dead. Not sick -- not wounded -- dead."
Woody Allen

"I love children, especially when they cry, for then someone takes them away."
Nancy Mitford

"Never raise your hands to your kids. It leaves your groin unprotected."
Red Buttons

"A child of five would understand this. Send someone to fetch a child of five."
Groucho Marx

"If only God would give me some clear sign! Like making a large deposit in my name in a Swiss bank."
Woody Allen

"I tended to place my wife under a pedestal."
Woody Allen

"Whenever I see an old lady slip and fall on a wet sidewalk, my first instinct is to laugh. But then I think, what if I was an ant, and she fell on me. Then it wouldn't seem quite so funny."
Jack Handey

"I think a good novel would be where a bunch of men on a ship are looking for a whale. They look and look, but you know what? They never find him. And you know why they never find him? It doesn't say. The book leaves it up to you, the reader, to decide. Then, at the very end, there's a page you can lick and it tastes like Kool-Aid."
Jack Handey

"Once had a rose named after me and I was very flattered. But I was not pleased to read the description in the catalogue: "No good in a bed, but fine up against a wall."
Eleanor Roosevelt

"By all means marry. If you get a good wife, you'll become happy; If you get a bad one, you'll become a philosopher."
Socrates

"My luck is so bad that if I bought a cemetery, people would stop dying."
Ed Furgol

"What's the use of happiness? It can't buy you money."
Henny Youngman

"I never drink water because of the disgusting things that fish do in it."
W C Fields

"I had a terrible education. I attended a school for emotionally disturbed teachers."
Woody Allen

"I am thankful for laughter, except when milk comes out of my nose."
Woody Allen

"I can remember when the air was clean and sex was dirty."
George Burns

Normal Day

Today was your average run-of-the-mill day. Nothing out of the ordinary...Tara dissed a few people...the Bio teacher ground us under the Senior's pedestal...gt burned in the Chem lab...some of the guys narrowly escaped death by concussion a couple of times while playing cricket without helmets...Spent an hour trying desperately not to look at Chari's underwear...wasted an entire evening downloading One Tree Hill episodes worth a rat's ass at the speed with which Soughandhica sprints..

Hmmm...I wonder if tommorow will be as uneventful. Maybe a certain "Pura's" bottom will finally surrender to the forces of gravity and fall off?

But i suppose that's too much to hope for.

Apparently, this site has been forbidden to me and everyone else, so i'll take this opportunity to attempt another visual blog. This one however, I'm gonna dedicate to Kunal Kapoor...because, just looking at him gets my heart racing.

My List of Music that You Have to Listen to Before You Die or You Wouldn’t Have Lived a Full Life:

Warning: The kind of music that does it for me is the stuff with real melody. I like bluesy, jazzy rock, its derivatives and sources. So if you’re the kind of person who likes metal, punk rock, gangsta rap or any other kind of badass music, maybe you shouldn’t be reading this list.

No Such Thing, Why Georgia, I’m Never Speaking, 3x5, Love Song for No one, Neon, You Body is a Wonderland, 1983, Daughters – John Mayer
Chariot, I Don’t Wanna Be, Chemical Party, Overrated – Gavin DeGraw
Dare to Move – Switchfoot
Starcrossed – Ash
My Immortal – Evanescence
Hey Jude, Yesterday, I’m a Believer – The Beatles
Yellow, Swallowed in the Sea, Fix You – Coldplay
Wonderful World – Louis Armstrong
Hero, Shake it off, We Belong Together – Mariah Carey
All I Need, She Will Be Loved – Maroon 5
Heaven – Los Lonely Boys
La Tortura – Shakira
Everyday is a Winding Road, The First Cut is the Deepest – Sheryl Crow
The Remedy – Jason Mraz
All Star, And then the Morning Comes – Smashmouth
When I’m Gone – Eminem
Let's Get it Started - The Black Eyes Peas
And of course, the Rang De Basanti Soundtrack.

This is all that I can think of for now.

Clarifications

I just wanted to make it very clear that I am NOT an atheist. Not in the least. I just don't believe in some of the rituals that Hinduism deems necessary to do. I don't believe that its necessary to go to a temple to pray. I don't believe that one shouldn't eat meat because one belongs to a certain caste. I don't believe in, and can't help being a little grossed out, by the Hindu practice of sprinkling kumkum and flowers and stuff in rice and then eating it. I believe there is a God, or some higher power that controls what happens to us. And I think that one should pray to God. I just don't think that one should have to do it in a particular way. Its all about believing, right? Shouldn't one be able to worship the way he or she believes it should be done? Religious Freedom, that's what I believe in.

Another Attempt

Going to try this ONE more time...so wish me luck. Let's see if this site decides to post my pictures this time. .......AND SUCCESS!!!!! OK, the first guy is James Lafferty, best known for his role as Nathan on the tv show One Tree Hill. The second two are of course from Rang De Basanti...I don't think there is any need for an intro.

Just thought I'd give all my straight female and gay male readers a little treat for the eyes.

Celebration?

I'm sitting here wondering how relevent the word "celebration" is right now.

On this most holiest of days, whose name I have temporarily forgotten(which doesn't even matter because I wouldn't have been able to spell it even if I remembered), I have been made to "celebrate" some religious event(which again I have either forgotten or never knew in the first place, not sure which) by touching a pathetically small flame and prostrating myself in front of the picture of a God. Then, a particularly vile - smelling flower was tied around my neck by means of a string of the most horrible shade of yellow. Apparently this is supposed to protect me and my future family from harm. Even after stretching my considerable imagination to the very limit, I am unable to accept that a flower that will wilt and die and probably induce an allergic reaction before the end of the day will be able to shield me and my hypothetical future family from death and poverty and similar misfortunes.

On the other hand, I will not be able to "celebrate" Holy tommorow, because the school and its management, tyrants that they are, have not declared it a holiday tommorow. And my parents, though the wisest of the wise in many aspects, refuse to understand the need to bunk school once in a while to have some good old-fashioned fun. For that matter, they never understand why I should be allowed to bunk school for any reason. I think it is a very sorry state of affairs when one as young as I is forced to prefix the word fun with an adjective like old-fashioned.

But of course, I am exaggerating, as I am always inclined to do when I plonk myself down on my backside in front of a computer screen. I think it has something to do with my complete lack of movement with the exeption of my fingers. My thoughts tend to get excessively magnified while being transfered into text. It's one of my better faults...but I'm working on it.

Sorry

i tried to make a wholly visual post, but this stupid site keeps claiming to have uploaded all my images when none of them are. i am utterly hopeless at figuring out stuff like this. So if anyone would care to help me out...let me know how to make this worthless site add my images. And also, all my posts have been displayed under the same date even though i have written them over the span of a week...so if you could let me know how to rectify that, i would be grateful.

I wanna make a visual post today instead of the usual boring text. i have do theme in particular, so im gonna add anything that i like (which will mostly include eyecandy and scenes from my fav tv show, one tree hill)

Lazy Hazy Days

Today was exactly what a Sunday should be. Woke up at the shameless hour of 11:30. Ate lunch and slept again. Woke up at 5 feeling faintly euphoric. It's rather sad really....it seems like days like this come my way so rarely. And when they do, I get to enjoy them for precisely as long as my brain remains static. As soon as I start thinking about why I'm not thinking, I start thinking about what I should be thinking and guilt sets in. Which triggers my most fundamental reflex which is to make my self stop thinking....which makes me think some more. And the upshot of this confusing mess of neurological synapses shooting around my head is a level 10 headache.......and that's the end of my perfect day.

Siiigh....but let's save that for later. Right now, my stomach is full and I am well-rested. My thought processes follow no logical pattern as they meander through my brain at an improbability level of 58769357384930 to 1 and falling. It all feels like a John Mayer song.....calm, mellow, never faster than a butterfly, always erratic.

Wow..I'm almost in a zen state of mind. Feeling nothing but bliss. Huuummmmm....huuummmm....breathe in.....breathe oouuuuttt....slowly...now childrens, we will be doing the shavasana.

Ok, ending on a spiritual note, this is another great song by Gavin Degraw called Chariot.


Chariot

Staring at a maple leaf
Leaning on the mother tree
I said to myself we all lost touch
Your favorite fruit is chocolate covered cherries
And seedless watermelon oh…
Nothing from the ground is good enough
Body rise
Look whats over me

[Chorus:]
Oh chariot your golden waves
are walking down upon this face
Oh chariot I'm singing out loud
To guide me
Give me your:
Strength

Remember seeing moons rebirth
Rains made mirrors of the earth
The sun was just yellow energy
There is a living promise land
Even over fields of sand
Seasons fill my mind and
Cover me…Bringing back
more than a memory

[Chorus]
Oh chariot your golden waves
are walking down upon this face
Oh chariot I'm singing out loud
to guide me

Give me your strength…
You'll be my vacation away from this place
you know what I want
Holding that cup,It's pouring over the sides…
Make me wanna spread my arms and fly

[Chorus]
Oh chariot your golden waves
are walking down upon this face
Oh chariot I'm singing out loud
To guide me
Give me your strength

Today, I saw something extraordinary. It left me stunned, speechless. Today, I caught a glimpse of Pura ma'am's abnormally large behind. Pura ma'am, I believe, must be atleast as old as Methuseleh. She has seen the rise and fall of civilisations. She was there when Egypt invented the orgy, when England made fornication legal, when Madonna was still a virgin. And it is widely believed among the Kumaran student community, that Pura ma'am's behind grew to its record biggest during the last years of the iceage causing an imbalance in the distribution of mass on the earth's surface. This, infact, tilted the earth about its axis of rotation by 22 1/2 degrees leading to a large scale climatic shift. Thus ended the iceage.

The body of a mammoth was recovered recently in Greenland, frozen inside a block of ice. After extensive paleantological analysis, it has been concluded that its dying words were,"I will see you in the portals of Halifax, oh derriere grande!"

Rang De Basanti

OK...I know that this is a little played out, but MY blog HAS to have something on this movie because it is only THE BEST movie that I have ever seen.

It's epic, moving, powerful. It has the 3 essential components of a landmark production; good music, good script, good acting. Bonus points for the black and white parallels and the hot actors. ...Seriously, if for nothing else, watch it for the hot actors. And make sure you bring a couple of tissues because if you have an ounce of human emotion, you will be weeping by the end of this movie.

I know this review sucks, so for a really good review, go to http://theunforgivenme.blogspot.com Pranave's review really does the film justice. I can't begin to describe just how kickass AWESOME it is!!!

Dreams

All my life, I've dreamt of becoming a successful person. I dreamt that one day, when i grew up, I would know exactly what I wanted to be, and I would be the best at what i did. I would grab life by the horns and twist it to my will.
It all seemed so simple when success was just a shadow in the distant future. Blurry around the edges, filled with possibility.

But now, that future is no longer a shadow. It looms in front of me, no longer simple but infinitely confusing. I have so many decisions to make, so much to do, and so little time in which to do it. I feel like life is being thrust upon me before I am ready for it...

Unconquerable

This is my absolute favorite poem. I get all shivery everytime i read it. Its called "Invictus" by William Henley. Invictus is the latin word for unconquerable. Henley suffered from tuberculosis of the bone. He was hospitalised for most of his life. Infact this poem was written from his hospital bed.


Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud,
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

- William Ernest Henley

I Just Wanna Be Me

"you can be whatever, whoever you want to be...as long as you are what we think you should be."

it seems like the whole world lives by this principle. if you step outside that 3x5 image that the world makes for you, you're an outcast. sometimes i wonder if anyone knows me for what i really am. even my friends. because in my head, im so different from how the world sees me...or chooses to see me.

this song, "I Don't Wanna Be", by Gavin DeGraw, just about sums up how i feel. Its a great song, so if you get the opportunity, listen to it.



I DON'T WANNA BE

I don't need to be anything other than a prison guard's son
I don't need to be anything other than a specialist's son
I don't have to be anyone other than a birth of two souls in one
Part of where I'm going is knowing where I'm coming from

I don't want to be anything other than what I've been tryin to be lately
All I have to do is think of me and I've peace of mind
I'm tired of looking 'round rooms wondering what I gotta do
Or who I'm supposed to be
I don't want to be anything other than me

I'm surrounded by liars everywhere I turn
I'm surrounded by imposters everywhere I turn
I'm surrounded by identity crisis everywhere I turn
am i the only one to notice
I can't be the only one who's learned

I don't want to be anything other than what I've been trying to be lately
All I have to do think of me and I've peace of mind
I'm tired of looking 'round rooms wondering what I gotta do
Or who I'm supposed to be
I don't want to be anything other than me

Can I have everyone's attention please
if you're not like this and that
You're gonna have to leave

I came from the mountains
the crust of creation
My whole situation made from clay dust stone
and now I'm telling everybody

I don't want to be anything other than what I've been trying to be lately
All I have to do is think of me and I've peace of mind
I'm tired of looking 'round rooms wondering what I gotta to do
Or who I'm supposed to be
I don't want to be anything other than me
I DONT WANT TO BE...
I DONT WANT TO BE...
I DONT WANT TO BE.... ANYTHING OTHER THAN..

hi! i'm arundhati. i'm 16 yrs old and i just passed my 11th math final by the skin of my teeth.....and now i have a blog!!! so all you sorry readers, get ready for some serious teen angst....for you have just entered a parallel universe where the satire never ends. welcome to my world.