"To die, would be an awfully big adventure"
- Peter Pan
"A man without hope is a man without fear"
- Kingpin, Daredevil
"Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering."
- Yoda , Star Wars
Doesn't it worry you that the bravest of all people you have come across, are fictional?
Real people are cowards. Real people love their lives. Real people are always afraid to die. Real people are only human. Does that make the concept of absolute courage a mere figment of our imagination?
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
"To die, would be an awfully big adventure"
Monday, December 11, 2006
Quick ones on the las three movies I have seen:
The Departed - 9/10
It's been a while since I have seen such a brilliant movie with direction that deserves a standing ovation. Matt Damon and DiCaprio rise to the occasion to steal the limelight from an out-of-form Jack Nicholson. A fast paced narrative packed with surprises and a great musical score to keep the pulse racing will ensure that this is one movie which you won't forget that easily.
Leonardo deserves a special mention for his efforts which, having been on the rise with 'The Aviator' and 'Catch me if you Can', made me respect him even more. The plot revolves around two young men, a cop and a gangster loyal, who infiltrate the other camp and their inevitable clash. Must Watch.
Update: Discovered this brilliant song after watching this movie:
I'm Shipping Up To Boston - Dropkick Murphys
Casino Royale 7/10
Not bad at all. I really didn't expect Daniel Craig to fit in the Bond Image, but he did sufficient justice to the role and added a new touch of realism to it. The story itself isn't the usual stunt caper but more of a background on James Bond and his origins as a double O.
I really liked the way the movie started. No clichéd extraordinary action sequence, but a rather terse dialogue in a black and white background made me actually sit up and take notice. Eva Green looks gorgeous without make-up and isn't all that bad but somehow leaves much to be desired. No gadgets and more suspense make this an interesting watch.
Dhoom 2: 3/10
One point for Hrithik. One point for cool gadgets which are way above regular Hindi action flicks. One point for Uday Chopra's dreams, particularly the Baywatch one.
Bipasha: Still trying to figure out what her role in the movie was.
Uday Chopra's character(Ali) and his 'Why Munmmy?' rant: *$&^&%*%^*^& *&%E^#$^##
Aishwarya: Pretty hot till she open's her mouth.. as most of my friends would agree.
Overall: Not even worth paying for the pirated CD. Watch Dhoom again.
Friday, December 01, 2006
As most of my friends know, I love profiling people (Example: This, this and this). Character profiling if you would call it, but it is this hobby that gives me reason to believe that higher questions like 'What is life?' don't need to be answered.
This brings me to the most interesting set of people that I have known : Lit Junta. The absolute crap that this title brings with it can be measured by how silly 'Literary Junta' sounds (try saying it ten times 'I belong to the Literary Junta'). This is a breed of self proclaimed uber-intellectuals who lay claim to the right to being worshiped for their prowess to give five synonyms to every English word on our humble planet. Yes, they have read more books on alternative literature than you, listened to Pink Floyd more than you, Kafka is part of their staple diet and with all probability, you will find them postulating as to how Hindi Music died with R. D. Burman (with all due respects).
They expect women to burst into orgasms at the very mention of Goethe.
Lit Junta Alpha male: " To be or not to be.."
Dream girl of Lit Junta: "Oooh.. true! Size doesn't matter! Give me Hamlet!!!"
Lit Junta have a penchant to do things differently. Sharing the opinion of the masses is an insult, so they will go the extent of saying that the economic imbalance of the South East Asian region is due paradoxical existentialism. Just like that. 'Cos it's different. They refuse to read bestsellers to such an extent: you can bet your soul that any critic of 'The Da Vinci Code' is Lit Junta. This is part of their affirmative action where they need to prove their point, not by writing books that sell, but by complaining about the lack of a modern day Homer.
I Plan to write more on this, but first let me go read some more Freud.
Monday, November 20, 2006
Khwabon mein muskurata ek hoor ka chehra,
Jaagta hoon to woh chehra koi aur hai..
Kasam khayee thi ki bhulaa denge tumko,
Aaj jaana ki nibhane waala koi aur hai.
Yeh nazm padh ke itna na itra aye dost,
Tere liye nahin badhti shayari meri..
Woh jo dhoondta hoon main dar-badar,
Mera humsafar koi aur hai.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Apparently being the First Lady of The USA is a serious job but being The Queen of England is an invalid occupation for powerful women (NA = Not Applicable, right? ) according to the Forbes list of The Hundred Most Powerful Women.
I can imagine the people compiling this list thinking, "Yeah, she's not supposed to be here. If only she wasn't worth more than 500 million pounds .. Damn! " .
The same applies to Queen Rania of Jordon, who I find particularly hot!
Could NA mean 'National Asset' then?
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
WTF ('why' version) would Kareena unbutton her coat from the bottom??? I mean, any vamp/ vixen/ Item number dancer worth her salt knows that it's what's on top that matters and not what's inbetween!! She could as well learn from better/hotter videos.
And what's with the rubbing-soap-on-each-hand dance of hers? Ugh!!
Other than that I think Don was a pretty good timepass movie. An excellent soundtrack saves it on several occasions. A decent sense of humour is always welcome:
De-Silva: Tum mujhe yahaan CD dene aaye ho?
Don: Nahin, tumhara pyaar mujhe yahaan kheench laya!
Friday, October 27, 2006
Yup! For the next THREE MONTHS! Absolutely alone. You would think I'm having a ball. I mean, I can get loose girls home at night, walk naked in the house, not clean the beds, skip breakfast, play loud music, late night drives, and plenty of non-saas-bahu TV. But no, it's not as easy as it sound mi amigos!
Hostel was great because even though we used to gloat about independant living, we were still a pampered lot. Food prepared at mess, cleaners coming to sweep our rooms, teachers, wardens and all that.
This is different. Try preserving milk in a non-curdly state for more than a day, living in a constant state of paranoia where you don't know which door you may have left open while you're at work, or which bill you have forgotton to pay. Apparently my dustbin doesn't just atomise the garbage and needs to be cleaned everyday. The tray collecting water below the fridge has to be cleaned regularly to avoid mosquitoes infesting your house. To top it all, when you've got to collect the rent, you know you are done for! I think the most embarrasing form of social communication exists between a tenant and the owner.
AAAARRGHHH... Damn thee, bacholer life!
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
In a recent episode of The Big Fight on NDTV, a bunch of studnets from the Lahore University were pitted against a few indian students and were asked present their own views on the current turmoil regarding both countries and the terror situation of south east Asia.
I was surprised, that on accusations of fostering terrorism, some of the Pakistanis strongly defended them (terrorists) as freedom fighters! As the show continued questions were raised about India's clean image in the whole scenario. "What proof do you have that Indians were not involved in the bombings in Pakistan?.. What exactly are the reasons for India having five consulates in Afghanistan?", were among the many queries put forward by them. From our side was the usual assault on the Pakistani president, the motives of the ISI, so on and so forth.
On being questioned what was the difference between a terrorist and a freedom fighter, they retorted that one man's freedom fighter is another man's terrorist as seen accross borders. This might just be how political leaders would want people to think and exactly why there still exists a level of discomfort on how different people handle the issue.
What if we could arrive on common terms and definitions for terrorism and freedom fights? Maybe then we could actually come together in combating terrorism and perhaps even help out those struggling for their freedom. So what are these universal definitions? My humble opinion:
Use of force and weapons on any human or civilian in particular, who, in every obvious way, is not responsible for the plight/suffering of the perpetrator, in order to harm physically,economically or mentally as an act of vengeance whether the original root cause of this vengeance is authentic or not. These weapons could range from anything between the pocket knife to an F16 bomb. Also, the intended victim would usually have no knowledge of the attack that he faces, unarmed and would in no way be prepared to defend himself. Even if the victim is capable of defending himself, attacking him, without reason, is still an act of terrorism.
Also, the terrorist's claim that the people killed were responsible for higher powers that were the actual enemies is hogwash. There is no single nation where elected representatives actually represent a nation. The terrorist will go any lengths to enforce his irrational beliefs and ideals to his victims.
Examples of terrorists that would fit the bill:
LeT and JeM in Kashmir.
Carpet Bombers killing thousands of civilians in Iraq and Afghanistan.
Rioters in post-godhra Gujarat.
Mohammed Afzal. (yes, he needs to be hanged)
A fight against oppression, with the oppressors or their agents directly in combat or through various forms of protest. This combat/protest would take place in such a way that there are certain globally accepted rules of engagement followed and no civilian, innocent third person would be harmed in the process. The oppression could be in any form and can broadly be defined as the violation of basic rights and freedom such as the right to live, right to practice one's own faith, right to own property and freedom of speech.
Hizbollah during the recent Israeli invasion.
Defenders of the Jessica Lal case.
I'm somehow running out of examples.
We know this one pretty well, don't we?
Which brings me to the actual question: Do terrorists give rise to freedom fighters?
Friday, October 13, 2006
Monday, October 09, 2006
I tried this online personality test and here's what I got:
|You Are An ENFP|
You love being around people, and you are deeply committed to your friends.
You are also unconventional, irreverant, and unimpressed by authority and rules.
Incredibly perceptive, you can usually sense if someone has hidden motives.
You use lots of colorful language and expressions. You're quite the storyteller!
You would make an excellent entrepreneur, politician, or journalist.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Shakira has a conscientious physiology. Why else do you think she has Honest Hips, Humble and Minimal Breasts, and humble breasts again?
She also intends to make your 'territory' hers to keep, confesses of an Oral Fixation and wants your eyes. She'll even race Brian Adams to be your underwear.She accepts that she has a perfect 24-inch waist. Her charity association is called Bare Feet.
So whats with this woman?
Speaking of body parts, here's a pic I took of the washroom doors of a restaurant called 'Take 5' in Indiranagar, Bangalore:
Friday, September 22, 2006
Lalbadshah's Domain turns one today - 22nd Sep. Although my first post was on the 23rd, I created the blog this day. Its a day of mixed feelings. Oh heck, no feelings, Im just writing this since it seems to be a ritual to do atleast something perfunctory on these occasions.
Well, what can I say.. hmm.. I've written a lot a shit. 32( + this) posts of shit to be precise. And to say that my page has been blessed with 1467 unique hits gives an indication that some of it might not have that bad (kind of shit). Shit happens eh?
I think such occasions call for Grammy level shit like ' Yo yo yoa all you b e yutifull people!! I love ya! I love ya all ma' niggahs' ! Id like to thank ma pappy.. mah mammy.. and all my brothahs' ...'
Not good? Ok, lets get serious. Blogging is indeed an experience. If not much, it has taught me this:
1. People write so that other people read. Its all about recognition. Basic human impulse. All that crap about writing for your own pleasure is pure... shit.
2. Its really hard to impress readers out there who are already busy trying to impress-out other readers. You know, Darwin kind of shit.
3. Blog-whoring is a very popular practice. you will find comments on a post about a 10 year old's wheezing symptoms saying "Interesting post, but do visit my blog http://renegadeintrepid-andother-gre-words.blogspot.com/". ive done this shit a couple of times too. What, I need an audience ok?!
4. Humour is a big hit. We love shit being written about lovely people.
5. Girls are born with an extra quota of regular readers and comments.
6. Porn on blogs has its own niche audience and they love that kind of shit.
7. Not many are bothered about your tag-posts unless you are a girl. So abandon making a fool of yourself by ranting about your love for bikes and other shit.
8. Writing love-rants and shit about failed love hoping that someday, ANY girl might just sympathise with you doesn't work.
9. Writing in bullet points, like in exams, makes for good presentation.
10. Putting in a pic or two to make the post more attractive definitely increases the attention span, so here's to the woman of my dreams.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
George Bernard Shaw's plays carry the most potent mix of humour, sarcasm and bare naked truth that I have ever come across. A selection of his plays that I picked while visiting Blossoms with a bookworm friend of mine, brought back to me the genuine pleasure of reading which I thought had been long forgotton.
Take 'Man and Superman' for instance:
A brilliant play where Shaw compares two sides of the male psyche and its helplessness when inevitably subjugated to the female will. An breif description of the superman is given here:
THE STATUE. I remember: he came to heaven. Rembrandt.
THE DEVIL. Ay, Rembrandt. There is something unnatural about these fellows. Do not listen to their gospel, Señor Commander: it is dangerous. Beware of the pursuit of the Superhuman: it leads to an indiscriminate contempt for the Human. To a man, horses and dogs and cats are mere species, outside the moral world. Well, to the Superman, men and women are a mere species too, also outside the moral world. This Don Juan was kind to women and courteous to men as your daughter here was kind to her pet cats and dogs; but such kindness is a denial of the exclusively human character of the soul.
THE STATUE. And who the deuce is the Superman?
THE DEVIL. Oh, the latest fashion among the Life Force fanatics. Did you not meet in Heaven, among the new arrivals, that German Polish madman? what was his name? Nietzsche?
THE STATUE. Never heard of him.
The fundamental premise of the play would be the battle of sexes where man is tricked into believing that he has the upper hand.
The Don Juan play, however, is to deal with sexual attraction, and not with nutrition, and to deal with it in a society in which the serious business of sex is left by men to women, as the serious business of nutrition is left by women to men. That the men, to protect themselves against a too aggressive prosecution of the women’s business, have set up a feeble romantic convention that the initiative in sex business must always come from the man, is true; but the pretence is so shallow that even in the theatre, that last sanctuary of unreality, it imposes only on the inexperienced. In Shakespear’s plays the woman always takes the initiative. In his problem plays and his popular plays alike the love interest is the interest of seeing the woman hunt the man down. She may do it by charming him, like Rosalind, or by stratagem, like Mariana; but in every case the relation between the woman and the man is the same: she is the pursuer and contriver, he the pursued and disposed of. When she is baffled, like Ophelia, she goes mad and commits suicide; and the man goes straight from her funeral to a fencing match.
The play takes a dig at everything despicable in the human world. Mendoza, a brigand speaks to his politically inclined band:
MENDOZA. But I am well aware that the ordinary man—even the ordinary brigand, who can scarcely be called an ordinary man [Hear, hear!]—is not a philosopher. Common sense is good enough for him; and in our business affairs common sense is good enough for me. Well, what is our business here in the Sierra Nevada, chosen by the Moors as the fairest spot in Spain? Is it to discuss abstruse questions of political economy? No: it is to hold up motor cars and secure a more equitable distribution of wealth.
THE SULKY SOCIAL-DEMOCRAT. All made by labor, mind you.
MENDOZA [urbanely] Undoubtedly. All made by labor, and on its way to be squandered by wealthy vagabonds in the dens of vice that disfigure the sunny shores of the Mediterranean. We intercept that wealth. We restore it to circulation among the class that produced it and that chiefly needs it: the working class. We do this at the risk of our lives and liberties, by the exercise of the virtues of courage, endurance, foresight, and abstinence—especially abstinence. I myself have eaten nothing but prickly pears and broiled rabbit for three days.
THE SULKY SOCIAL-DEMOCRAT [stubbornly] No more aint we.
MENDOZA [indignantly] Have I taken more than my share?
THE SULKY SOCIAL-DEMOCRAT [unmoved] Why should you?
THE ANARCHIST. Why should he not? To each according to his needs: from each according to his means.
THE FRENCHMAN [shaking his fist at the Anarchist] Fumiste!
MENDOZA [diplomatically] I agree with both of you.
THE GENUINELY ENGLISH BRIGANDS. Hear, hear! Bravo Mendoza!
It is hard to describe genious because if you could, it would cease to be. These plays aren't just about global issues and problems faced by the world but of personal issues in a world of crisis and the silly causes of these problems. After reading this I came to the conclusion that all men were born as supermen but very few manage to remain so. We aspire to do many things but in the end we are tied down to do what everyone expects us to do.
I think the best that we can do is to atleast accept it:
RAMSDEN [very deliberately] Mr Tanner: you are the most impudent person I have ever met.
TANNER [seriously] I know it, Ramsden. Yet even I cannot wholly conquer shame. We live in an atmosphere of shame. We are ashamed of everything that is real about us; ashamed of ourselves, of our relatives, of our incomes, of our accents, of our opinions, of our experience, just as we are ashamed of our naked skins. Good Lord, my dear Ramsden, we are ashamed to walk, ashamed to ride in an omnibus, ashamed to hire a hansom instead of keeping a carriage, ashamed of keeping one horse instead of two and a groom-gardener instead of a coachman and footman. The more things a man is ashamed of, the more respectable he is. Why, youre ashamed to buy my book, ashamed to read it: the only thing youre not ashamed of is to judge me for it without having read it; and even that only means that youre ashamed to have heterodox opinions. Look at the effect I produce because my fairy godmother withheld from me this gift of shame. I have every possible virtue that a man can have except—
And finally, to end with, the clincher:
That the real Superman will snap his superfingers at all Man’s present trumpery ideals of right, duty, honor, justice, religion, even decency, and accept moral obligations beyond present human endurance, is a thing that contemporary Man does not foresee: in fact he does not notice it when our casual Supermen do it in his very face. He actually does it himself every day without knowing it. He will therefore make no objection to the production of a race of what he calls Great Men or Heroes, because he will imagine them, not as true Supermen, but as himself endowed with infinite brains, infinite courage, and infinite money.
Friday, September 15, 2006
Monday, September 11, 2006
Was tagged by pollyanna into this:
I said : Fine, anything to oblige a pretty lady! After all this is just a post.
I am thinking about : 20 ways to get back my lost hair.
I want to : Quit my job and start robbing people.
I wish : This whole world was wiped out leaving only me and Angelina Jolie to start again.
I hear : My mother saying - 'I wish you could be more serious about life.. Do you really need to buy that car now?'
I wonder : If I should actually publish this post.
I regret : Not going for the prefect selections in school. Damn I loved those flaps they get to wear on their shoulders!! :(
FYI: Not showing off but the vice-principal blasted me for not going for the selections.
I am : 22 year old, 1/5th bald, easily bored, run-of-the-mill software engineer who speaks too much for his own good.
I hate: Being called a Techie when I'm not really one.
I dance : Real bad. Embarrasingly bad. But yes, I still do. :)
I sing : Well enough to pass the first round of Indian Idol. But simply can't match my pitch with my guru, Himesh Saheb.
I cry : When I have nothing to do. I have these periods where I can't think of what to do and then cry about it. Literally.
I am not always : Joking and dumb.
I make with my hands : My own pockets of pleasure.
I write : Here.. to grab as much attention as I can.
I confuse : Many people. My boss rates me as 'Technically Suave'! Yeah, I know. Time to start the ROTFLMAO routine.
I need : Could do with more money right now.
I Tag: De-scribe, Underground-man, Chandan and Rajatupadhyay.
Monday, September 04, 2006
There was a time where a soldier's job was considered to be one of great honour and prestige but 21st century media has torn down facades of honorable behaviour that are supposed to uphold and protect the highest interests of personal freedom and security. Crimes ranging from War Room leaks to War crimes behind closed doors and more have brought to us the new face of our military prowess.
In a period of global chaos, a country's army is supposed to rise above petty issues and stand for the honour of its motherland. Which they do. But these not so isolated incidents force us to shed a large amount of faith instilled by slogans of Jai Jawan, Jai Kisan. Wars, even when necessary, are being fought in our backyards rather than in the battle feilds and this further fuels the inner rage. It is time the men gaurding our borders and those commanding them to do so, begin to clean up their records before its too late.
Afterthought (5th Sep):
I don't think the root of the issue could be the various problems that the soldiers face. It's more about the amount of power yeilded by a man with a gun and the responsibility that entails it. Military, in any land or age, is always glorified because the country needs them to lay down their lives for us. Had it been a cheaper commodity like money or clothes, the powers that be would just ask for them. But here you are asking more from a man. To die for his land and for a cause that is not his. This, obviously, as any PR expert would agree, requires incentives and motivation which come in the form of sentiments of dying for their motherland. As laymen citizens, we are highly inspired and respect these sentiments but those within the system clearly see through whats actually happening. The result? They lose that necessary motivation and seek other pleasures and means necessary to survive which come in the form of access to forbidden sins of greed, lust and sadism.
Ken falco, in this piece, gives evidence that warfare is more about mindgames than one would have thought.
And I see no Bravery in your eyes any more - James Blunt
Monday, August 28, 2006
Maut to ek kavitaa hai,
mujhse ek kavita ka vada hai milegi mujhko,
doobti nabzon mein jab dard ko neend aane lage.
zard sa chehra lekar jab chaand ufaq tak pahunche,
din abhi paani mein ho, raat kinaare ke kareeb,
na andhera na ujaala ho, na abhi raat na din.
jism jab khatm ho aur rooh ko jab saans aaye,
mujhse ek kavita ka waada hai milegi mujhko.
- From the movie 'Anand' .
Roughly Translated as:
Death is but a poem,
And I have a promise from a poem that I would meet her.
While pain sleeps in slowly sinking veins,
and a scar faced moon reaches its peak..
While the day is yet in the waters and the night at the shores,
It would be neither too dark nor bright, not yet day nor night,
When the body ends and the soul breathes its first,
I have a promise from a poem that I will meet her.
The fantastic thing about Hrishikesh Mukherjee was that most of his movies were about the ordinary Indian in an ordinary day to day life facing extraordinary circumstances and this made his genre of movies very endearing to the masses. A genre that is lost today in exaggerated grandiloquence, designer clothes and NY locales.
Anand was probably the one movie which brought the biggest lump in my throat while watching Rajesh Khanna smile in the face of death. Milee, Golmaal and Chupke Chupke had a pristine sense of humour and Abhimaan was a brilliant musical that doesn't lose its authenticity on the silver screen.
Now that Hrishi da is gone, I wonder if the newer generation would even know that such fantastic movies were ever made. I belong to a generation that has watched these movies at the behest of my parents whose time these movies belong to. Would movie goers 20 years later ever know there was something called Eastman color? Would they know about Guru Dutt? Will they ever see the beautiful faces of Waheeda Rehman and Madhubala in black and white? Or is it our duty to make sure they do?
I believe we all act as historians in all aspects of life. Our views, opinions, memories and biases are a legacy that has been given to us for refinement and preservation. It will be given to those willing to listen in due course of time.
So I shall speak of the passing of a Legend.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Was bored to death at work and hence started this exercise in blog-statistics:
On http://blogsearch.google.com/ :
Keywords entered ----------- Number of results
reservation india OBC ------- 3,158
mallika sherawat ------- 6,039
blogs ban india ------- 12,658
india sex ------- 130,508
Arjun Singh ------- 7,596
terrorism ------- 868,264
terrorism in india ------- 44,177
Bin Laden ------- 280,755
viagra ------- 440,419
Mahatma Gandhi ------- 32,269
George Bush ------- 492
Angelina Jolie ------- 293,809
Shah rukh ------- 23,234
nihilism ------- 27,396
libertarianism ------- 14,924
multiple orgasm ------- 32,362
greenpeace ------- 69,020
threesome ------- 354,093
virginity ------- 172,145
9/11 ------- 868,125
Fountainhead ------- 16,782
kamasutra ------- 28,502
Sigmund Freud ------- 30,860
Sonia Gandhi ------- 12,160
Monica Lewinsky ------- 14,183
implants ------- 300,128
Picasso ------- 126,528
Communism ------- 130,811
Communalism ------- 2,471
Lesbian ------- 1,639,241
Gay ------- 10,666,095
Sex rules. The average blogger writes about philosophy, terrorism and Angelina Jolie quite often. The Kamasutra isn't as popular as we thought it would be. Women are highly anxious to get implants and men love it. We rather write about multiple orgasms than worry about George Bush. Picasso is the only artist most people have heard of and they write too much about him. Too many people wrote about reservations with absolutely no results. Most men prefer threesomes (with two men or women? that I don't know) and most of them rely on viagra. Global terrorism isn't only about Kashmir. Mahatma Gandhi hasn't yet been forgotton. Indians prefer writing about sex to actually doing it. There are more gays than we thought there were while others fantasize about lesbians.
PS: The above verdict is mine and mine alone. I merely want to share it with fellow bloggers and have no intention of imposing it on anyone nor does any of it have to be necessarily true. So, up yours.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Yeah I know.. too much Pearl Jam.. but then again.. so what?
Dunno why, but I can't stop listening to this song non-stop for the last couple of weeks.
Pearl Jam - Black
and now my bitter hands cradle broken glass,
of what was everything.
all the pictures had all been washed in black, tattooed everything...
all the love gone bad, turned my world to black
tattooed all i see, all that i am, all i'll ever be...
i know someday you'll have a beautiful life, i know you'll be a star
in somebody else's sky, but why
why, why can't it be, why can't it be mine?
Among other things, I watched Corporate - Paisa, Power and Politics. Funk and I came to this unusually rare mutual agreement that it should have been : Corporate - Sex, Sex, Sex... Sex, sex,sex and More Sex. What a way for him to depart from Oracle!!
I also feel extremely fuck'all working for an MNC whose taxes contribute to the power yeilded by those supporting the rocket that killed 35 kids while they were dreaming of another morning.
The design of the new Pulsar 220 somehow reminds me of LML Adreno. It's fake and it sucks.
I miss quake3 and final block :(.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Yes. It's true. I have shaved my head. And I blame it on the escalating petrol prices.
No really! I do.
You see, increase in the petrol prices caused me to tune my bike for better mileage. This as many bikers would know, reduces the pick up and maximum speed as the bike loses torque drastically. And me, being the speed demon that I am, who could never compromise on anything less than 24kmph on my former Kinetic Pride - 73cc vario drive, ripping through Koramangala-Indiranagar ring road at blinding speeds (yes, I have touched 57 kmph) during my good old Christite days, could not take this blasphemic demotion of a Pulsar 150cc DTSi.
Hence, riding on a tremendous brainwave, I decided to introduce aerodynamics in my analysis which led me straight to the barber in front of my house. I explained the situation. He didn't ask any questions. Being an avid biker himself (TVS champ, the best that India has produced), he asked me to sit on the holy chair. The rest, as they say, is history.
I have increased my average speed by 2kmph since the last two days (did I mention the add on effect of the french beard?). Sure, I don't exactly get too many compliments. But then, neither does Rakhi Sawant. Both of us are too comfy in our state of bliss to notice any criticism. I'd like to meet her, you know. Over coffee or something like that. I'd tell her not to worry abt this cruel cruel world. That I understand. That I like what she wears with me as long as she likes what I do to her. About the pain I would give to people like Mika Singh/Hakkinen.
Sigh.. if only.
Friday, May 19, 2006
(Best enjoyed when you read the lyrics given below while listening to the song above)
Im ahead, Im a man
Im the first mammal to wear pants, yeah
Im at peace with my lust
I can kill cause in God I trust, yeah
Its evolution, baby
Im at piece, Im the man
Buying stocks on the day of the crash
On the loose, Im a truck
All the rolling hills, Ill flatten em out, yeah
Its herd behavior, uh huh
Its evolution, baby
Admire me, admire my home
Admire my song, heres my coat
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
This land is mine,
this land is free
Ill do what I want but irresponsibly
Its evolution, baby
Im a thief, Im a liar
Theres my church,
I sing in the choir: (hallelujah hallelujah)
Admire me, admire my home
Admire my song, admire my clothes
cause we know, appetite for a nightly feast
Those ignorant indians got nothin on me Nothin, why?
Because, its evolution, baby!
I am ahead, I am advanced
I am the first mammal to make plans,
yeah I crawled the earth, but now Im higher
Twenty-ten, watch it go to fire
Its evolution, baby (2x)
Do the evolution
Come on, come on, come on
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
There are several occasions where I have found myself desperately searching for a hero/model/ideal to look upto. Perfectly normal I guess. Everyone does.
What pisses me off is that fact that I know too many people who deify these role models to such an extent that they mould their frame of mind and attenuate their thought process to blend into that image. They stop thinking. They only believe. A belief that while some actions are justified, others can never be forgiven. They look at people as sets of properties/talents/resources. Those who fit in the image of their demi-gods(or themselves) are the ones they will consider discussing their borrowed thoughts with. "Stereotype and Reject" is their motto. Their points of view are suddenly facts and those of others are fiction.
The level of arroganceof the slave/god here surpasses any ordinary sense of superiority. These guys have a constant snicker going on inside represented by a perpetual smirk on their face. Bah!
I've come close to becoming 'these' people on several occasions and maybe I have. But each such occurrence makes me even more resolute about my convictions.
Well I do have a few words for these suckers : Get a life. Form opinions. Don't borrow them. Noone is perfect. And you definitely are NOT. At the same time, just because someone is not your ideal, he is NOT just another loser capable of nothing. Avoid being so predictable. If something impresses you, be inspired.. don't fuckin try to copy!!
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Abandoning the idea of writing a seemingly hortatory but rebarbative travelogue on my recent trip to Dandelli with my friends, I'd just like to say that this trip helped me immensely by giving me a much needed break from the SSDD routine. Awesome trip. Great Company. Feeling much better now.I feel good :D
Check out the pics here.
But before you leave, do read this poem that flashed my mind while staring at two pairs of fiery feline eyes probing us at night with only a 100 meters of forest ground seperating us..
TIGER, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?
Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
Saturday, April 22, 2006
One time in an airport a guy accidently called Chuck Norris "Chick Norris". He explained it was an honest mistake and apologized profusely. Chuck accepted his apology and politely signed an autograph. Nine months later, the guy's wife gave birth to a bearded baby. The guy knew exactly what had happened, and blames nobody but himself.
Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know when Chuck Norris is going to kill you.
If at first you don't succeed, you are obviously not Chuck Norris.
At birth, Chuck Norris came out feet first so he could roundhouse kick the doctor in the face. Nobody delivers Chuck Norris but Chuck Norris.
Thursday, April 20, 2006
Monday, April 17, 2006
Aamir Khan. Narmada dam. Deforestation. Trees. Sandalwood. Kannada Film Industry. Rajkumar. Veerappan. Sandalwood. Deforestation. Forest. Black Buck. Salman Khan. Andaz Apna Apna. “RajKumar” Santoshi. Khakee. Aishwarya. Salman Khan. Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam. Ajay Devgan. Kajol. DDLJ. Shahrukh. Pepsi TV. Priyanka Chopra. Blackmail. Sunil Shetty. Khel. Jadeja. Ganguly. Nagma. Baagi. Salman Khan.
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a bygone vexation stands vivified, and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin vanguarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition. The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous. Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it's my very good honor to meet you and you may call me V.
Style. Something the Wachoski brothers have mastered in the process of the making of The Matrix trilogy. Attitude. Something Hugo Weaving has fine-tuned and carried over from the deadly Agent Smith to the deadlier V. Revolution. A never-say-die theme that has been resurrected after decimation into a million Che T-shirts by other albeit less compelling media and events. Together, it is poetry.
Let us remember the 5th of November.
Guy Fawkes had attempted to blow up the British Parliament on the 5th of November, 1605. He failed. More than 430 years later, Britain, the new global Superpower has been turned into a totalitarian regime under the insane High Chancellor Sutler. Natalie Portman of the Star Wars fame, plays Evey Hammond, an assistant in the government controlled BTN Television Network. She is rescued by V, a stranger in a Guy Fawkes mask, in an incident at night when she is accosted by unfriendly ‘fingermen’. He provides her with the introduction given above and shows her the perfectly orchestrated destruction of the Old Bailey building.
He goes on with his saga of destruction letting people know who he is and what he wants to do. Slowly the story behind V and his dark painful past uncovers as he settles old scores in poetic elan leaving behind a Scarlet Rose as a symbol of his presence.
In a recorded tape which he broadcasts to the entire London, he urges them to join him in his revolution and lets everyone know that in the coming year, on the 5th of November, the British Parliament would be blown up. The rest of the movie is how he goes about executing a perfectly laid out plan, in between which, a struggle between ideologies, within everyone, is explored beautifully. There is a breathtaking scene with dominos falling in the shape of V when Inspector Finch realises that ‘somehow, it was all connected’.
A revolution without a dancing is a revolution not worth having.
The dialogue is exceptional. Shakespeare and Voltaire are heard in numerous places in the movie. V is not just an extraordinarily strong man blinded with hate, he is a master cook and loves listening to classical music and definitely knows how to dance. He sure is well read with all the classics and other tomes found in his ‘Shadow gallery’.
Beneath this mask there is more than flesh. Beneath this mask there is an idea, Mr. Creedy, and ideas are bulletproof.
I haven’t seen Rang De Basanti. But I believe there are more differences between the two than anything remotely similar like the idea of revolution. V is darker. Way darker. It is about oppression, revenge, tyranny and against all these, the element of hope. Sure, there are unbelievable parts here. But wait! This is based on a comic! And I believe that such issues should not be considered worth an argument just like radioactive spiders were not questioned in Spiderman.
There are several ideas in V that are highly relavent like the influence of media on the common man and its manipulation by people in power. The principle of peace, which is lost in the trials and tribulations of the oppressed. A feeling called vengeance, which is the by-product of never ending hate. The fact that no matter how scarred one gets, there is still something human. The idea of revolution, and placing this idea above everything else.
V for Vendetta is beautiful. Brilliant. Classy. Watch it.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Wolverine: With those sharp 'fingers' and even sharper wit, he is a treat to watch.
There is a point in superman history where he actually campaigns for Lex Luthor and makes him President.
This is how the sketch actually is made. The colours are filled in later based on the greyscale gradient.
Frank Miller can make kids look scary. And this is spawn.
Neat Effects. Frank is known to create superb effects with very few colours.
Spidey has been tried with various costumes. Needless to say, the original is the best.
You simply HAVE to love The Joker's guts.
Any guesses who the rider is?
Know what the difference between him and the Lantern is? He makes this look GOOD.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Been tagged by Minnie and Ranade. Here is a list of things I’d like to say about myself..
I am a proud Saggitarian and fiercely defend the associated traits.
I hate hypocrisy though I can be a hypocrite sometimes. I guess we all are.
I can be annoyingly happy. Being perpetually cheerful is something that comes to me naturally and I wudnt change it for the world.
I do have mood swings though. Noone has probably noticed because I go sulking in some vague corner.
Im better known for my patience among friends, especially when it comes to being pushed around. But I DO lose it sometimes. Seriously. Ask my family and they’ll tell you.
I can be brutally honest with people. I simply don’t seem to know what to tell and what not to. My foot is constantly in my mouth.
I love to travel. Don’t like the trekking part of it much though. Would love to go Himalayas some day. I find myself more at home in cold temperatures.
I hate being tagged “average “ or even above average. But I am simply too lazy to fight it.
I am NOT a flirt. I just don’t see why people think that I am. Including my mother!
I believe in love and other associated sentiments but I don’t think of it as a once-in-a-lifetime thing. I can’t stand chocolaty people. I like chocolate :) .
I LOVE CHICKEN. Balls to bird flu!
Music is a must for me. I cant work/study/travel without it. I can even bear heavy metal (the music) but I can’t stand heavy metal fanatics.
I am a communist at heart. I harbor strong anti-western feelings. I hate the mall culture, though I visit multiplexes quite frequently. If confused, refer point #2. It hurts me to watch people eating corn worth Rs.4 but bought for Rs.35 just because it comes in a paper cup. I hate the fact that people visit expensive restaurants just because they are expensive and with no concern for how the food may be.
I hate it when people refuse to give alms to beggers just because they are not handicapped. If it is against your principles, do something about it.
I hate people who take credit for others’ work. I respect their talent in doing so, but I hate them.
I feel that I am duty bound to answer to people even when I have no clue about what they are asking. This might have caused me to throw a lot of crap in the past.
I am king of all that I own. I hate sharing my stuff. Very finicky about it.
I love gossip. As long as it is genuine.
I share a love-hate relationship with Ekta Kapoor soaps.
at 2:07 PM
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Due to anonymous threats from opensource fans i had to include this apology here. The information in this article is not relevant anymore. Mozilla is now an independent entity. The information that I used from the net for this article turned out to be outdated. Im sorry :)
How does Mozilla make money?
An innocent question at coffee time made me investigate this fundamental question and the answers were quite surprising. Following are some facts I have accumulated from the net:
The Mozilla browser started when Netscape, the maker of the once popular browsers Navigator and Communicator, gave its code to mozilla.org. This "donation" was done so that Netscape would no longer have to spend millions on the drudge work of coding its browser. This drudge work was now to be done by unpaid enthusiasts.
Netscape is owned by the mega-congolmerate AOL-Time Warner (AOLTW). Thus, the original code that started the whole Mozilla project from Netscape is the property of a once $165 billion corporation.
Now, the licensing agreement that outlines to what extent Mozilla is open source shows that something fishy is behind the scenes. This license states that any code added to Mozilla is also open source (Section 3.2. Availability of Source Code). This assures that all new improved code that is ever made off of the Mozilla source, always goes back to Mozilla. This is a very tricky situation since the commercial Netscape browser is still downloaded and used. This new breed of Netscape browser (version 6 and the new version 7) is based SOLELY on Mozilla's code with extra commercial features that further AOLTW's grip on the Internet!!
Let's turn our attention to a browser named Komodo. While it is based on the free code done by the free programmers at Mozilla, it sells for $300 (yes three hundred) per copy. From an open source browser that obviously is free, a private company changes a few things, and viola!, a $300 browser is born!
Earlier, if AOL was used as the ISP for PCs in the US, the browser was IE which didn’t look so good. So they very conveniently shifted to the gold-mine at hand – Mozilla. What unsuspecting ‘volunteer programmers’ don’t realize is that AOLTW will sweep the code from them and use it in AOL. Let's count AOL's total subscribers: one, two, three... 34 million. At a simple $20 rate per month with the 34 million subscribers, that's $680 million dollars a month. That's at least $8.16 billion per year. Sure AOL does not use Mozilla code yet, but it will with AOL 8.0 or 9.0.
This means AOL is/will be making at least $8.9 billion per year off of code done by unpaid programmers. This figure does not count any money Netscape makes, any money that is gained by Netcape's influence, or how much third-party products such as Komodo rip off from Mozilla.
BTW, the official Mozilla statement is “Firefox generates most of its money through a tool that lets users search the Web with various search engines, and also search for products at Amazon and eBay. Firefox takes a small share of revenue through contracts with those partners.”
Mozilla makes 30 million a year like this: everytime someone does a Google search with Firefox and clicks on an Adwords ad, Mozilla gets money. Google calls this "Adsense for Search" and you can find more info about it on their website.
30 million vs almost 9 billion! Hmmm…
I guess as long as I have good looking tabs on my browser, I’m quite happy. ;)
For more, visit here.
Friday, February 17, 2006
I hate taking sides. I don’t think its polite. Its really rare for me to root for any cause. I like to wear this superior air about me smug in the knowledge that I have the power to swing both sides and even look wise in the process.
There are those who don’t listen to music and and those who do. There are others, who listen to metal. Again, let me refer good old Wikipedia:
I have nothing against metal. Infact I do like most of what Metallica and Iron Maiden make and am not quite sure if they fall into this category. But then, Children of Sodom? I mean.. even BEP’s ‘My Humps’ sounds like music before what ‘Spinter Pelvic Fury’ makes! Oh yeah.. they ARE a band and that IS their name!
There was this guy in our college who was a couple of years senior to us. His batchmates called him ‘metal’ and he used to like that. You could watch him swinging his head to and fro in all concerts in our college and screaming “AUZZZZYYYY” and “SYMPHONEEE OF DESTRUCKSHAAAANN”. I couldn’t help but pity him for the number of times his perverted neighbor would have abused him as a child.
I could never figure out the reason for headbanging, which was the reason I abandoned this primitive ritual just as soon as Metal had started showing symptoms of Psychotic Hypertrophy of the Meningial Fluid with Spasms. He would often stare blankly at requests for ‘Brain Yadams’ or ‘Wotel Caalifornia’ with sheer disbelief at this act of blasphemy and enter into a series of violent spasms of verbal abuse that would, at one shot, bring down generations to shame… even when he was not stoned!
Headbanging is a self-proclaimed art form particularly popular with people who are not very good at more advanced dancing, as the dance, which many would not call a dance but merely stomping very hard at something, while nodding fiercely for no good reason at all, is not all that hard to learn. In fact it was the only dance form I could ever master. But reason convinced me to preserve the last few traces of gray matter left in my head before I could shout ‘TRAAAAIIIN OF KONSEEEKWESAAAS’ again.
Then again, I love music. Any genre will do as long as it appeals to me. Unless it is, like my IITian friend would call it, “Slisha Cuppax!”.
Monday, February 06, 2006
Before I start, I'd like you to very carefully read this shocking piece of of information from wikipedia :
"The term amor platonicus was coined as early as the 15th Century by the Florentine scholar Marsilio Ficino as a synonym for "amor socraticus". Both expressions signify a love focused on the beauty of a person’s character and intelligence rather than on their physical charms. They refer to the special bond of affection between two men Plato had highlighted in the dialogue, and exemplified by the affection between Socrates and his young male pupils, and in particular to the one between Socrates and Alcibiades."
Among the list of related articles was:
Then as I grew older, I realised that girls take this to their advantage by turning down every guy they don't want to get too close to with "I don't want to spoil our friendship" or a very innocuous "Why can't we just be good friends?" to which the guy smiles and says "Of course! thats how it has always been, hasn't it?" while his heart melts right into his bottom. There are several variations like "I respect you a lot", etc..
I'm not saying that the only reason guys start a friendship with girls is because they are sexually attracted to them or their friends, it's just a lot more complex than that. I believe that if you have a set of friends with mixed sexes and you hang around together for long enough then you are bound to be attracted to one of them. In due time. It's quite natural.
Disclaimer: this is not the only clause. There are several if's and else's involved. Like I said, Its quite complex .. even to blog about.
Rest assured, Plato has given the world the best excuse and a weapon of unparalleled simpicity.
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
I've had enough. Enough and more hatred has been spread in the name of religion.
"Currently the stereotypical muslim, as perceived by many in Europe and America, is a fanatical suicidal maniac who insists on keeping his wife locked up and who would cheerfully execute anyone who disagrees with his viewpoint that Islam is best. The reaction to the cartoons by protesters in Palestine, Pakistan or Iraq where they threaten death to the cartoonsist only reinforces this stereotype."
I am a Muslim and proud to be so. I have friends from other religions with whom I share my deepest secrets I wouldn't dare to tell anyone else and I don't hate them. I'd bet my life on the fact that they don't hate me too (atleast on the basis of my religion). Religion is a way of life that everyone chooses to follow. In my opinion every religion has something good to say and I follow mine simply because I choose to. Choice, is something that can never be taken from me. I choose not to hate. I chose to ignore. I choose to be happy. I choose to live and I choose my beliefs.
"No religion teaches violence" is a statement that, inspite of its frequency in usage, should never be considered a cliche and I as a Muslim definitely know that Islam belongs to this set. And I do not consider a Muslim anyone who thinks otherwise. A vast majority will agree with me.
I never get into arguments about religion simply because I don't know much about any other than my own. So before you start hating someone based on his beliefs, please make an effort to study those beliefs in an unbiased manner.
There is no point in hating when we have an alternative. There is no end to it. Coexist.
We all come in peace.
This is my first and hopefully one of my very few attempts at social messaging.
Monday, January 16, 2006
I distincly remember the first time I read a comprehensive comic book. I was 6 yrs old and was about to be 7 in a couple of days. Till then, the cartoon strip in newspapers was all I knew of cartooning and never pictured that there could be books full of them. It was the first edition of ‘Tinkle’ which cost Rs. 6 and was reluctantly financed by my mother in exchange for not watching a movie which apparently wasn’t made for my age group (I’d kill to remember which one). I bought it at the newspaper stall right next to our place which remained my library for years to come. I lapped it up within an hour, which btw, should be an accomplishment for a kid who was not yet 7 :) ! Then I moved up to Archies, Chandamama, Jataka Tales and very soon into the streets of Gotham City and Metropolis.
I was lucky to have had prior introduction to Superman through the movie which I watched at my uncle’s place… my first movie on the VCR. I was blown away! I used to simply stare at the comic book cover for hours together dreaming of wearing that holy red-and-blue suit and ripping through space at unimaginable speeds (I din’t know the speed of light then and hence couldn’t compare). Slowly I became an even bigger fan of the Dark Knight aka Batman. The best part of him was that he was human. Just like any of us but bigger than all of us. He was vulnerable, yet infallible. Dark, yet a Hero. That day on, I was a Believer. Every day after school I used to come straight to the newspaper stall, pick up the latest comic and read till I could hear my mother screaming at me from the balcony. I swept the entire range. From Mahabali Shaaka, and Nagaraj to Phantom and Mandrake to Justice League and later on Tintin and Asterix. Years passed by but I still hold on to those stories.
Its not that I haven’t grown past them, I’ve grown with them. And come to think of it, I never want to let them go. I don’t want to sound obsessed like Samuel L Jackson on a wheelchair in ‘Unbreakable’, but those comics were the building blocks of some of my principles and ideals. They were to me the perfect example of what my mother used to call the ‘Win of Truth over Evil’. The pristine thought process of sacrificing your personal life, fame and fortune to help the less fortunate was too priceless for me and still is. In this era where life in its shades of grey has been accepted as the norm, we need to turn back to something everytime there is conflict of choices available. Fairy Tales probably have more significance than we think.
Its probably why such tales are classified as ‘Fantasy’ .. ‘cos in this world, they would never fit in.