AV beyond Wiztronix...

Happy Birthday to ME !!

2011-06-11T00:05:00.000+05:30

Today has been a fantastic build-up to a birthday. Multiple good news throughout the day really made me feel like God was giving me my birthday presents a day in advance. I know that I continue to be the blessed man that I have always been. :)

A warm thank you to all the folks who have wished or are wishing me right now or will wish me within the next 24 hours! I love you all!! (Yeah, even the ones I hate.. :P)

Luv-n-luck,

An interesting twist to FRIDAY !

2011-06-10T00:01:00.004+05:30

Roaming around in cyber-space, I just ran into something extremely intriguing. And what better day than today, to publish this?

THE SONG

THE ANALYSIS (unedited, NOT mine)

Rebecca Black’s song Friday is a work of unparalleled genius. Of course you retards don't see it you may never see it but I'm telling the truth. This is not a troll or whatever the kick you think it is. No. This song and its accompanying video represent one of the greatest works of musical art I've ever seen. ranking right alongside anything Radiohead. Neutral Milk Hotel etc has ever done.

Why do I say this? Because underneath its bubbly. faux-happy surface is a seething cauldron of existential dread and despair. You've all missed the forest for the trees, and while you've been busy mocking it you've missed its brilliance. So let me take you through the video step by step and maybe at least a couple of you will begin to see.

Remember that these are just my own observations. after only a few viewings: this video is so multi-layered that unraveling its symbolism and meaning would take years of careful examination

We open with a production card and some building synths. As the music continues. we see a sort of calendar with flipping pages. Before we get to the lyrics. there's a couple things in this sequence worth pointing out. because they set the tone for the rest of the video and establish its overarching motifs.

Firstly. Black appears here as a hideous moving drawing on the pages. moaning "yeah. yeah" in robotic. auto-tuned cadence. This startling image of the singer — and her voice -- both lie snugly in the very nadir of the uncanny valley. Ostensibly we are looking at a human. but it isn't close enough to what we recognize as human to inspire anything other than revulsion.

I think the director was trying to create a vision of the ''hyperreal" here. Like a sports drink with a flavor such as "blue mountain ice berry" that doesn't exist in nature. Black is a simulacra of something that never existed in the first place. Like so many American teens. she is attempting to live up to an ideal that's impossible to attain — outwardly succeeding in many respects. but never achieving self-actualization in any meaningful way. always feeling like an imposter. mired in a cycle of materialism and futile competition that serves no purpose She doesn't feel "rear and so in these opening frames she is presented as just that: an unreal monster. a horrible. ugly outside creation.

The artificiality of the music itself plays into this theme as well — I don't think there's a single real instrument in the entire song

Secondly on the pages of the calendar we see some words that we are supposed to assume Black wrote there. On the page for Thursday, she has written "I am Thursday's Child. :(" This is a very clever reference to a nursery rhyme that ascribes personality traits to people born on certain days of the week. The line for Thursday reads, 'Thursdays child has far to go."

There are multiple things going on here. As a young girl Black has far to go before reaching adulthood and the (largely mythical) freedoms she ascribes to it. She also has 'far to go' before she can accept herself for who she is.

She has 'far to go` before she can be the person everyone around her expects her to be -- very. very far -- and she will never get there. These are the main conflicts that are present throughout the song.

Finally, the lyrics start. The monstrous drawing of Black gives way to the flesh-and-blood Black, just waking up with her alarm clock. Her eyes snap open and she starts out of bed instantly, almost mechanically.

>7 AM waking up in the morning >Gotta be fresh gotta go downstairs 'Gotta have my bowl

>Gotta have cereal

Gotta She has no choice. She HAS to do these things As Black sings these lines, she gives a disdainful look to her alarm, obviously wishing she could sleep some more. but dutifully she throws her covers off (does this represent her urge to throw off the comforting but ultimately cloying shackles of childhood? Perhaps.) and we cut to her standing downstairs, dressed and ready to go, where she finishes the verse.

In the downstairs section she stands stone-still. her facial features unmco,ing as she tells us that she must have a bowl of cereal. This is her routine- to break it would be a horrible transgression. And what exactly happens if she breaks her routine? Well. nothing -- but she doesn't know that and she's too terrified to find out. She wants freedom but she isn't strong enough to give it to herself

>Seeing everything

>The time is going. ticking on and on And everybody's rushing

Behind Black, her family goes through their own daily routine in fast-forward. No one has time anymore_ it seems to her, and by extension to the viewer. Everyone's day is firmly regimented planned out months in advance and there isn't any room to allow oneself a peaceful moment. For success we have traded in our very identities Black is disgusted with her family and more importantly with herself

>Gotta get down to the bus stop >Gotta catch my bus

More gottas. Again. Black has no choice in what she does with her time We cut to her at the bus stop where suddenly she notices something off-screen and gives a painfully faked smile: ei sea my inenda

Her smile isn't real. As the camera reveals her 'friends' pulling up in a late-model car neither are theirs She cannot stand these people. Like her they're imposters, trying to live up to some abstract version of what a perfect teenager should be. and she hates them for it. But on the other hand they are nothing less than a mirror into her own empty soul — all the more reason to despise them

>Kicking in the front seat >Sitting in the back seat >Gotta make my mind up >Which seat can I take'

A verse absolutely pregnant with meaning. It's gotten a lot of derision. and that's a shame because it's one of the great little moments in this song.

Black surmises the car. Her friends are motioning for her to join them. Why would she do that instead of taking the bus? It's obvious that her friends aren't going to school today. And as she looks at them she realizes that she has to make up her mind: will she continue the daily routine that has become her own personal prison, or will she break free. skip school and taste independence?

Which seat can she take? Will she sit in the back, a passive bystander to her own life? Or will she sit in the front — wrest control of her own destiny and decide for herself what she wants to do?

>It's Friday. Friday

>Gotta get down on Friday

We cut to Black in the car with her friends. But she's in the back After all that turmoil, she's still a slave to others, doing not what she wants, but what is suggested to her by her peers. She may have rebelled against the tyranny of schooling but she's still imprisoned and acting without will

"Gotta get down on Friday? Not 'wanna get down on Friday: or "gonna get down on Friday: or any of a number of lines that may have worked Its another -gotta? She is as much under the control of society as ever. In fact, her minor rebellion may itself be part of the act she's been putting on her whole life. What teenager doesn't skip school?

>Everybody's looking forward to the weekend

>Partying. partying. yeah! >Partying. partying. yeah! >Fun, fun. hin

>Looking forward to the weekend

Horrible. No one in the car is happy. They bob their heads and smile through gritted teeth as they lie about how much fun they're having, but they all look so desperate, so pained. They look OLD. like world-weary soldiers. Their refrains of 'yeah' are delivered with unenthusiastic fist pumps. the veil on their false joy wearing alarmingly thin.

Black chants 'fun, fun, fun' not like someone who is enjoying themselves but like a Nazi in a concentration camp. She is ordering herself to have fun, as if simply saying the words will make it so. But its not so. and she knows it This isn't fun. This is hell.

>7.45. we're driving on the highway >Crusing so fast,

>I want time to fly

12 hours have passed in an instant. We cut to Black in a completely different car. wearing a completely different outfit with a completely different group of people What happened in the interim? That's left to the viewer's imagination but there is some imagery here that strongly implies Black lost her virginity at some point in the time gap.

Firstly, all the people in her company are noticeably older than the original group of friends She is with adults now, not children This suggests that she too is an adult she has stepped into womanhood.

Secondly in the morning she was wearing a bright purple shirt. symbolic of youth and innocence. Now she wears all black, symbolic of impurity -- and mourning. She has lost her innocence- and she regrets it The car, too. has gone from white to black — pure to impure.

Whatever the case. it's clear Black has had quite the day. But still she sits in the back seat — through it all. she is still not in control.

Why does she vvant time to fly? Isn't she having 'fun. in fun'? Of course not This has been the worst day of her short life and she wants it to be over as soon as possible. This is probably the only time she directly betrays her true emotions in the entire song. Her self-loathing over giving up her virginity — and over myriad other things — bubbles to the surface in that fleeting instant before she tamps it all back down again and continues the pathetic charade of enjoying herself

,Fun fun >Think about fun

Again. ordering herself to have fun. This is reminiscent of lie back and think about England,' the advice given to Victorian-era brides on how to deal with being raped by their husbands. Was her loss of virginity willing? Or did she 'grin and bear it' as part of the ritual she felt she had to endure to cross the rubicon into adulthood?

Now that she has crossed that rubicon. and nothing has changed. she is deeply ashamed Yet still she lies to herself, still she pretends to be having fun.

,You know what it IS'

>I gat this. you got this >My friend is by my right >I gat this. you got this >Now you know it

She smiles, but her eyes tell a different story. They're pleading with you to understand her, her plight. She wants you to understand why she's done this. and to forgive her. But she really wants something else. She wants to forgive herself of what has happened today.

Maybe she never will.

>Kicking in the front seat >Sitting in the back seat 'Gotta make my mind up 'Which seat can I take?

We come full circle. She knows that to become a truly free agent she will have to disavow her false friends and live for herself Will she be able to take this step? Will she summon the courage to strike out on her own? Immediately she answers for herself: she hugs her two 'friends' closer. She isn't ready to be her own person yet Not even the loss of her innocence could imbue her with the courage to move forward. She will be a slave to others for the foreseeable future.

>It's Friday, Friday

'Gotta get down on Friday

'Everybody's looking forward to the weekend, weekend

Black arrives at a party and waves to a boy about her age. He glances salaciously at her backside — perhaps this is the boy who took her virginity? The party is outdoors and it's pitch black except for the headlights from the cars there. Without her friends. without her peers Black would be in dark_ completely lost. The meaning is obvious.

Again, she's -gotta ° get down. The line has now acquired a disturbing sexual connotation given what has transpired, but its basic meaning is essentially the same.

-Friday Frets.

>Getting down an Friday

Watch closely here, this is around 1:50. Her smile completely drops for an instant as she says the second line. She hates herself

>Everybody's looking forward to the weekend

The boy from before walks up behind Black and makes an inappropriate sexually-charged grab at her. She swirls around in shock. but then fakes a smile at him. She cannot bring herself to admit how disgusting she finds him.

>Partying. partying yeah' >Partying. partying. yeah! >Fun, fun. fun

>Loolong forward to the weekend

Black walks backwards here. It's easy to read into that. She's not improving herself, but regressing. For all her bluster and pretending. she's worse off tonight than she was this morning. More of her false friends make unconvincing fist pumps. Once again, no one is happy.

'Yesterday was Thursday. Thursday 'Today it is Friday, Friday

We see Black again as the drawing-monster from the beginning. She recites the progression of the days of the week.

Yesterday was Thursday, today is Friday. This transformation and these lyrics validate the suggestion that her rebellions today have been nothing more than yet another piece in the larger act she's been putting on. of being the perfect teenager. The days of the week are set in stone. they always come in the same order. And Black's rebelliousness was equally predictable. It wasn't spontaneous at all.

>We, we, we so excited

'We so excited

'We gonna have a ball today

Black talks in broken English, but it's just an affectation, like everything she's done today. Talking like a stereotypical 'urban" (read: black) person is supposed to be °edgy " for this young white suburban girl, but it's not edgy if everyone in her peer group is doing it. just fired and cliched She's no bohemian or free-thinker or even common punk. she's a mindless drone doing what all the others do.

>Tomorrow is Saturday

And Sunday comes afterwards

The predictability of her actions are again hammered home as Black is shown directly turning from the moving drawing into her real life counterpart. The drawing-monster and Black are the same entity: a horrendous, unreal abomination, revolting yet pitiable.

.dorit want this weekend to end

But she does. She trembles with this lie and has to say it with an open-mouthed gape, as if forcing it out of herself.

How long can she go on like this before she cracks?

>RB Rebecca Black

>So chillin' in the front side

A grown man begins to rap. cutting into Rebecca's lyrics (symbolizing her powerlessness?) He calls her by name, then looks down at his crotch as he says the second line. More sexual connotations abound. Has this adult man victimized the young Black?

>In the backseat ›I'm drrving cruising

These lines have caused confusion. but it makes sense if you consider 'So chillin' in the front side, in the backseat' to refer to Black. and -I'm driving, cruising' as referring to himself. He's having sex with her (Black is 'so chillin' in the front sides ie being penetrated). but largely against her will (she is still in the back seat) Rather.

HE is the one in control — HE is in the front seat. driving 'Cruising" here takes on its sexual meaning as well as its more literal one -- he is cruising for underaged girls to abuse

>Fast lanes. sratching lanes >With a car on my side

>Passing by is a school bus >In front of me

>Makes me tick tack. tick lock >VVanna scream

Chilling. This man is a pedophile and the children aboard the school bus arouse him. But let's look closer. The fact that they're on a school bus is very meaningful indeed. Because if Black had followed her usual routine and gone to school, had failed to rebel — she may still have not escaped the fate that befell her tonight. Eventually she would have been sullied by the horrors of the adult world. For her, there is no escape, and there can never be

'Check my time. it's Friday

>It's a weekend

'We gonna have fun 'Come on. come on

The man looks in the rearview mirror but the position of the camera makes it appear as if he's looking directly at the viewer. And he says we gonna have fun: not "I'm gonna have fun.' This is an accusation, a recrimination. We are all complicit in the crimes this man commits. By forcing the image of perfection upon young girls. by sexualizing them, by turning a blind eye to their cries for help. WE are responsible for the -fun' this man has. We are no better than him.

>It's Friday. Friday

>Gotta get down on Friday

>Everybody's looking forward to the weekend weekend >Friday. Friday

>Getting down an Friday

>Everybody's looking forward to the weekend

We cut back to Black performing in front of a large crowd. This is really what she's been doing her entire life. of course: performing. None of them seem that interested even as she sways and smiles and shouts about how great everything is What's more. we continually see cuts to Black standing alone in a bizarre darkened room full of strange glowing smoke. where she moans in protest — at one point (around 2:55) yelling out "n00000" as the Black performing in front of an audience announces that everyone is looking forward to the weekend.

This is Black's inner dialogue_ and likely it's been going on for the entirety of the day — this is just our glimpse at it. Outwardly_ she's happy and ebullient but in her mind she's shouting out in horrible pain trapped in a fevered hellscape of her own creation

>Everybody's looking forward to the weekend >Partying. partying. yeah!

>Partying. partying. yeah!

>Fun. fun. km

>Looking forward to the weekend

>It's Friday. Friday

>Gotta get down an Friday

>Everybody's looking forward to the weekend. weekend >Friday, Friday

>Getting down on Friday

'Everybody's looking forward to the weekend

As the song draws to a close, we cut back and forth like this — the projection Black gives of herself and the torment within. Finally her inner self isn't even attempting to speak intelligibly. instead just yelling as loud as she can.

eyes wrenched closed. fists balled up. But in the real world she forges on singing and dancing for the crowd_ and the pedophile from before looks on approvingly his prey's spirit fully broken.

And when she stops singing, she looks down at everyone before her embarrassed, disgusted_ kill of nothing but despair.

Now that her performance is done. the crowd will disperse and forget about her and for everything she's endured she will have gained nothing. She has literally become the -poor player that struts and frets her hour upon the stage.'

She has realized that her life is a futile mockery of real happiness a hollow. meaningless simulation.

As Black's day draws to a close, she has stared into the abyss -- and the abyss has stared back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One might be tempted to cursorily dismiss this is some kinda over-the-top analysis, and maybe it partially is, but parts of it sure made me go "Holy crap! I didn't notice that before!"

What do you think?? Is it really a song about existential crisis??

Luv-n-luck,

Tere Bin Laden....

2011-05-10T02:19:00.001+05:30

Disclaimer: People incapable of impartially reading something without getting their opinions in the way are encouraged to NOT READ the following. Any angered/impassioned lambasting of my existence shall be met with the rudest retorts that my meandering mind can generate. Whether or not it coincides with yours, you can NOT boo me for having an opinion!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For the last few days since Osama Bin Laden was killed, I have been debating with myself whether I really want to write and publish this blogpost. I was not sure if my own thoughts were clear enough and whether such blatant opinions need to be made public at all. Today, I read something that convinced me I should. So here goes..

THE CONFESSION

I have never really hated Osama Bin Laden. Since I saw the live footage of the WTC twin towers and Pentagon burning, to this very moment, I have never felt that surge of anger that a lot of people feel or have felt against him at some point of time. I could never see 'evil' on his face. I could never bring myself to blindly believe all the labels and adjectives that were attributed to him. If anything, I almost admired Osama Bin Laden. I always thought that born under better circumstances, he would have made such a great scientist, sociologist or philosopher. There's good reason why I say so. While my opinion about his motives and the means of accomplishing them has wavered over time, there was and is no denying the tremendous genius of the man who stood right in the face of 'the greatest nation on earth'. The ten years gone by during which the US relentlessly pursued him and yet ended up with just dead ends have only served to prove this. I have often wondered how he managed to walk with titanium balls that big.

The above sentiments apart, unlike so many people in so many parts of the world, I am still in no mood to celebrate Osama Bin Laden's death, for multiple reasons:

THE ARGUMENT

1) What's glorious about the willful killing of a fellow human being, no matter who they are and what they did?

2) Its all a big game of perception management. In the media, we are mostly fed only one side of the story, which follows the golden rule: 'He who has the gold makes the rules!'. But sitting in the cozy safety of our homes, its genuinely difficult to appreciate what the people in some other part of the world are really facing on a daily basis. Try listening to this:

Makes 'One man's terrorist is another man's martyr' make some sense, doesn't it?

3) As the real happenings of 'Operation Geronimo' emerge as the White House 'revises' several key details, it is becoming increasingly clear that this was a planned political assassination. No attempt was made to capture the target alive. Keep in mind that there was no 'firefight', as Osama Bin Laden was unarmed, and also that he did not use any woman as a human shield. Obama's speech was just perception management eyewash.

4) The entire operation also stands in multiple breach of elementary norms of international law. Whats there to celebrate about the blatant breach of the sovereignty of any country by another? And who's to say that this will not happen to mine in the future? The US will undoubtedly get away with it too, simply because there IS no one to stand up to them. The disbalance of power only makes me worried, not gleeful.

The following assume the Osama was 'evil':

5) The vengeful repercussions of Osama's killing are bound to show up sooner or later, and your guess is just as good as mine as to what form they will show up in. Given the brilliant mind that he was, I'm willing to bet that he'd already chalked out a plan of action to be followed post his death.

6) Osama managed to pull the US into a dead-end ground war on multiple fronts, which cost thousands of lives and trillions of dollars. The hits taken by the US economy ever since George W. Bush declared a 'war on terrorism' show that it is a pyrrhic victory for the US, if at all a victory. Now with the death of Osama, the americans feel a sense of closure, and the war between the most powerful country in the world and a handful of terrorists, after ten years, can only truthfully be said to have ended on a draw. Really seems like a victory for Osama, if you ask me.

7) For a while now, Osama was being seen as more and more of a symbolic figurehead representing the multi-pronged extremism across the globe, with minimal direct operational command of Al Qaida. The world's most wanted and most dangerous terrorist, captured alive and kept rotting in a jail would have been symbolic victory to the US. The US could not have gifted a more 'glorious' and 'inspirational' end to Osama by killing him and making him a martyr dying for his cause.

And in closing, a quote from Noam Chomsky: "If this world believes in the Nuremberg Principles on which the Nazis were taken to trial for its crime against humanity through their tyranny post-world war II, all American presidents should be taken to trial following the same principles."

Tell me what you think.

Luv-n-luck,

POPS !

2011-05-07T01:56:00.002+05:30

Learn to live in the moment, they say. Without being weighed down by your past, or being pulled too fast by your future. Every once in a while, I have a moment in my life, which seems to have more life in the moment than usual. While the feelings possibly experienced in such moments encompass the full spectrum of human emotions, I believe what is common is that they irreversibly change the way you look at something. Such moments tend to stick out in your memory like bookmarks in your life. I call such moments Points Of Paradigm Shift, or POPS. Quite the appropriate onomatopoeia, eh?

So this is a song about a moment in time, when on a relatively secluded beach in Konkan, albeit in unthoughtful jest, I was down on one knee, holding a fused light-bulb and looking into eyes that were suddenly filled with a haunting blend of unexpected emotions.

LIGHT OF MY LIFE

I've never been the kind
Who go around searching for love
I've never believed love's blind
Or that happiness comes from above..

I've never believed in fate
Or that destiny is real
And all this talk of a soul-mate
Has always felt so surreal..

All my life, I've lived an illusion
And never dared to face my fears..
But I've broken free of this delusion
In this moment with you, right here...

Now I'm on my knees
And I can suddenly see things right
I'm begging baby, please
Say, you'll be the light... of my life...

Much as I would love to, I can't really elucidate upon 'see things right'. Not as a matter of intent, but as a matter of ability. Someday, I hope to be able to write in words expressive enough to really encompass the beauty of the moment and the depth of the realizations within it. Maybe then, I could call it an apology. From naiveté to hurt feelings.

Luv-n-Luck,
Av

Laziness is in our genes! Or is it??

2011-04-01T00:21:00.001+05:30

My primary motivation to go out and meet interesting people and talk to them is not limited to just what they have to offer to me as fully formed opinions in terms of intellectual exchange. While that is surely unique, a few days back I re-discovered, to my pleasant surprise, that the real dark horse of the interaction is the tangential thought process which the other person's thoughts trigger off in your own head. Now this particular conversation was about Global Warming, and here is the outcome, about Evolutionary Bio-psychology! Yes, I just made that word up.. :P

Anyway, here goes:

Where does Laziness come from?

They say a new-born baby is like a clean slate, and the first few hours and years of experience will mould the human being that they will be for their whole life ahead. Some people say the experience starts with conception, or as I like to call it, biological birth. Do we really learn EVERYTHING after we are born? Or is it possible that we hold something within us that comes from even BEFORE biological birth?? For example, its anybody's guess who/what teaches the baby to swim around or kick while in the mother's womb, or breathe after physiological birth.

Emotions are one thing precariously perched on the fence between numerous fields of research. So is instinct. A sceptic's view (read, MINE) begs the question: where do we pick up laziness??

For a moment, turn the clocks in your head backwards to a prehistoric point in time, long before human had trifle chores (such as blogging). The priority of the day was evolving into complete humans in the first place! One can easily see that there were two basic things that a prehistoric average guy on the (yet-to-be-invented) street would be concerned about, just like every other organism around him:

a. To survive

b. To replicate

Makes for a pretty short to-do list, doesn't it? What wouldn't I give for a situation like that. But I digress..

No matter what lofty goals humankind was chasing, surviving was and is obviously step numero uno. I'm pretty sure that just like modern society, endeavours directed in the direction of accomplishing 'task b' often caused the candidate to fail in accomplishing 'task a' ! Now consider the woolly mammoth and the sabre-toothed tiger competing with the girlfriend's father for shelf-space on the Rack of Mortal Dangers, and its obvious that EVERYTHING our protagonist would do would be basically directed towards survival at some level.

The point I am trying to make, in my admittedly laborious and tangential fashion, is that over a period of time, humans isolated and inculcated a set of behaviours and abilities which helped them accomplish these tasks. Complicated processes such as formation of society and hierarchy of social structure, development of languages, arts and indeed all science and technology have their roots back in this simple necessity. To survive.

Next, look at the basest necessity to survive. Energy. HUMAN Energy. Energy derived from the food we eat, but more importantly, energy saved by NOT exerting oneself. These are both two sides of the same coin, and are ingrained into the basest instinct. A lion knows that it must not over-exert itself in a chase when it looks like the deer's got a new pair of Reebok runners, simply because it will be too tired for the next chase, which it must anyway run if it wants to feed. Ergo, it should come as no surprise that man, with his developed (developing?) brain not only understood this at a gut level, but also found ways and means to proactively implement energy-saving strategies. Social hierarchy, barter trade, the discovery of fire, the invention of the wheel etc., are all means to this end. Some of these means are a way of utilizing another human's energy, while others are means of compensating human energy with another form of energy. This is a crucial difference, as expending someone else's energy to get your job done has the additional benefit of increasing your chances of survival against theirs.

Watch natural selection and human development stroll hand in hand on the beach of time for just a few thousand years, and the tendency to conserve human energy has already been hardwired into the human DNA irreversibly. This has simply occurred because the folks that managed to conserve their energy are the only ones that survived and replicated! Zoom in on the process and you see the drivers of technological advancement gradually metamorphose from the necessity of saving energy to the luxury of saving energy. Technology has bestowed man with powers far beyond the ones that could have evolved through a natural process. While flying in the sky or crawling on the ocean floor, the impetus is still on minimizing the human exertion. Minimizing the energy loss during a task that is anyway beyond natural human physical capabilities!

Wind the clocks back to the present day, and we have a natural tendency to not exert ourselves, and use sources of energy other than humans, without realizing that we are, at an instinct level, only saving our energies to run away from this sabre-toothed grin, which by the way hasn't been seen for a while now!

Anybody who doubts what I call 'DNA-hardwiring', or the ability of evolution to influence the actions of a species should do good to think why a domesticated dog sleeping on a rug will turn round a few times before settling in, just like its brethren in the wild. :)

What do you think? Tell me!

Luv-n-Luck,
Av

Don't give up on me, I won't give up on you...

2011-03-15T13:32:00.002+05:30

Michael Franti - Hey World (Don't give up)

tell me why the grass was greener
years ago
I swear it used to grow here
but no more here

tell me why
on this hill
all the birds they used to come to fly here
come to die here

and tell my why i need to know
sometimes i wish i didn't have to know
all you show me

hey world
what you say
should i stick around for another day or two
don't give up on me
i won't give up on you
just believe in me like i believe in

tell me why on the corner
all the kids that used to come to run here
load the guns here

and tell me why
it's okay
to kill in the name of the gods we pray
tell me who said it's okay
to die in the name of the lies we say

tell me why there's child soldiers
tell me why they closed the borders
tell me how to fight disease
and tell me now won't you please

the only thing i want to do
is to be in the arms of someone who believes in me
like i believe in you
i try try try try
i try try try try for you
don't give up on me
and i cry cry cry cry
i cry cry cry cry for you
just believe in me
like i believe in you

Of Chapters and Discontinuities...

2011-03-08T00:18:00.004+05:30

Hi All,

It has been 558 days since I last posted something here, and after gargantuan measures of procrastination spread throughout those 558 days, as I finally sit here to write a fresh blogpost, I am fixated upon the concept of continuity.

In the chapters of a book, the author strives to maintain a delicate thread of continuity (or atleast context) to string together the whole piece of writing. As I think about what to write, I realize that although this is like the 2nd chapter of my blogging endeavours, there can be no continuity.

There can be no continuity, simply because the person who wrote the last blogpost and the person writing this blogpost are separated by a discontinuity in time, wide enough to ensure that there is but very little common ground between the two. The schizm between me and me is emotional, intellectual, experiential, and attitudinal. However, like an Alistair MacLean novel, I hope that the successive but apparently unrelated chapters shall converge to a singularity as the novel of my blogging adventure progresses.

So what do I write about? See the next blogpost for that!!

Love-n-Luck,

Its not perfect.. but its mine..

2009-08-28T23:00:00.005+05:30

Wandering around in cyber-space, I just stumbled on something so poignantly simple in its beauty that I can't even wait to come up with some nice words to describe it, before I share it here. This just cant wait. The song is by a stand-up comedian called Tim Minchin. This song is like the 'doosra' in his repertoire. Listen to it. Till the end.

Luv-n-Luck,

P.S. - You can find the lyrics here.

Coders Only!

2009-08-18T13:07:00.005+05:30

Warning: Very long geeky post!

/* This post is written to share a few laughs */

In the light of my recently celebrated non-anniversary of my mindless IT coder job, I wanted to share a few coder's jokes, compiled from various sources. People who do not plead guilty to the tags of coder or geek are encouraged to NOT read the following in interest of their continued sanity.

The rest of my brethen, join in for a few smiles, giggles and laughs!

Here goes..

1) Q: Whats the object-oriented way to become wealthy?

A: Inheritance

2) Q: how many programmers does it take to change a light bulb?

A: None, that's a hardware problem!

3) Q: How many hardware engineers does it take to change a light bulb?

A: None, it'll be fixed in the drivers!

4) Q: Why do programmers always mix up Halloween and Christmas?

A: Because Oct 31 == Dec 25!

5) If you hold a Unix shell up to your ear you can hear the C!

6) C++ is a modern language: your parents can't touch your privates, but your friends can!

7) Ascii a stupid question, get a stupid ansi!

8) if(!this.Kill(me))

me.Strength++;

9) There are 10 types of people in the world. Those who understand binary and those who get laid.

A) Q: How do you keep a programmer in the shower all day?

A: Give him a bottle of shampoo which says "lather, rinse, repeat."

B) "Knock Knock!"

"Who is it?"

Very long pause...

"Java"

C) Programming is like sex. ONE mistake and you have to support it for the rest of your life!

D) The Programmers' Cheer:

Shift to the left, shift to the right!

Pop up, push down, byte, byte, byte!

E) Eight bytes walk into a bar. The bartender asks, “Can I get you anything?”

“Yeah,” reply the bytes. “Make us a double.”

/* Rajnikant Fact Collection (RFC) */

1. When Rajnikant throws exceptions, it’s across the room.

2. All arrays Rajnikant declares are of infinite size, because Rajnikant knows no bounds.

3. Rajnikant doesn’t have disk latency because the hard drive knows to hurry the hell up.

4. Rajnikant writes code that optimizes itself.

5. Rajnikant can’t test for equality because he has no equal.

6. Rajnikant’s first program was kill -9.

7. Rajnikant burst the dot com bubble.

8. Rajnikant can write infinite recursion functions…and have them return.

9. Rajnikant can solve the Towers of Hanoi in one move.

10.Rajnikant doesn’t bug hunt as that signifies a probability of failure, he goes bug killing.

11.Rajnikant’s keyboard doesn’t have a Ctrl key because nothing controls Rajnikant.

/* End of RFC */

/*~~~~~~~~ Start of Jokes Section ~~~~~~~~~*/

A guy is standing on the corner of the street smoking one cigarette after another. A lady walking by notices him and says "Hey, don't you know that those things can kill you? I mean, didn't you see the giant warning on the box?!"

"That's OK" says the guy, puffing casually "I'm a computer programmer"

"So? What's that got to do with anything?"

"We don't care about warnings. We only care about errors."

/*~~~~~~~~~ Joke Seperator~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*/

A Cobol programmer made so much money doing Y2K remediation that he was able to have himself cryogenically frozen when he died. One day in the future, he was unexpectedly resurrected. When he asked why he was unfrozen, he was told:

"It's the year 9999 - and you know Cobol"

/*~~~~~~~~~ Joke Seperator~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*/

Jesus and Satan have an argument as to who is the better programmer. This goes on for a few hours until they come to an agreement to hold a contest with God as the judge. They set themselves before their computers and begin. They type furiously, lines of code streaming up the screen, for several hours straight. Seconds before the end of the competition, a bolt of lightning strikes, taking out the electricity. Moments later, the power is restored, and God announces that the contest is over. He asks Satan to show his work. Visibly upset, Satan cries and says, “I have nothing. I lost it all when the power went out.” God says, “Very well, let us see if Jesus has fared any better.” Jesus presses a key, and the screen comes to life in vivid display, the voices of an angelic choir pour forth from the speakers. Satan is astonished. He stutters, “B-b-but how?! I lost everything, yet Jesus’ program is intact! How did he do it?”

God chuckles, “Everybody knows… Jesus saves!”

/*~~~~~~~~~~ End of Jokes Section~~~~~~~~~~~~*/

/* And to wrap it up, a beautiful poem, a-la Dr. Seuss: */

If a packet hits a pocket on a socket on a port,

And the bus is interrupted as a very last resort,

And the address of the memory makes your floppy disk abort,

Then the socket packet pocket has an error to report!

If your cursor finds a menu item followed by a dash,

And the double-clicking icon puts your window in the trash,

And your data is corrupted 'cause the index doesn't hash,

Then your situation's hopeless, and your system's gonna crash!

You can't say this? What a shame sir!

We'll find you another game sir.

If the label on the cable on the table at your house,

Says the network is connected to the button on your mouse,

But your packets want to tunnel on another protocol,

That's repeatedly rejected by the printer down the hall,

And your screen is all distorted by the side effects of gauss

So your icons in the window are as wavy as a souse,

Then you may as well reboot and go out with a bang,

'Cause as sure as I'm a poet, the sucker's gonna hang!

When the copy of your floppy's getting sloppy on the disk,

And the microcode instructions cause unnecessary RISC,

Then you have to flash your memory and you'll want to RAM your ROM.

Quickly turn off the computer and be sure to tell your mom!

/* End of post. Hope you enjoyed it! */

/* Users are encouraged to leave comments on my comments! */

/* Luv-n-Luck, */

/* Av */

A curious co-incidence..

2009-08-16T01:46:00.006+05:30

Today is the would-have-been 2nd anniversary of me taking up a job in the alternately flourishing and floundering IT industry. While I am extremely happy to be not in a mundane developer job anymore, I was surely contemplating posting something about it.

A few minutes back I opened my old acoustic guitar cover, and it has yielded a poem I had written way back in early 2005, when I was saying my good-byes to my graduate college. Corny and clumsy as it is, I wanted to share it because it brought a flood of memories back to me.

The poem is in keeping with the theme of a farewell, and while it was untitled back then, I've thought of christening it as

NOT A FAREWELL

When tomorrow starts without me
I'll not be there to see
If the rising sun would find your eyes
All filled with tears for me..

I wish so much that you wouldnt cry
The way you did today
While thinking of the many things
We didn't get to say..

I know how much you love me
As much or more than I love you
And each time that I think of you
I know you'll miss me too..

So when tomorrow starts without me
Don't think that we're far apart
For every time you think of me
I'll be right here, in your heart...

Ta-daa! Its ok, don't take my case over it. :)

Luv-n-Luck,

Blind Faith..

2009-07-15T12:00:00.006+05:30

I helped a visually-impaired person cross the road today while I was on my way to the lab. This is one opportunity that I always jump at. In retrospect, I must admit that I primarily see it not just as an opportunity to reach out and help somebody, but an opportunity to take the time out to count my blessings. When I re-realize how often I take them for granted, I really wonder whether actually I am not the blind one. Sometimes you need to close your eyes to really open them.

All said and done, helping someone leaves a warm feeling inside me, and it just makes my day. Every person, in the moment of complete faith on you, responds differently to the guiding touch of your hand, and every time is a different experience that escapes words.

Today's experience reminded me of a quote that I just had to share:

"Be good to people, not because they are nice, but because YOU are nice.."

Luv-n-Luck,

MJ : A Flash Mob Tribute

2009-07-13T23:00:00.006+05:30

This was done at Stockholm, Sweden just a few days back.. Check it out!!

Information on flash mobs can be found here.

Oh hell yeah! I SOOO wanna be a part of something like this. Anybody in Pune game?

Let the music play on in our hearts..

Luv-n-Luck,

Anagram fun!

2009-07-09T00:45:00.001+05:30

"All the life's wisdom can be found in anagrams. Anagrams never lie."

ASTRONOMER = MOON STARER

ASTRONOMERS = MORONS STARE

RADIOASTRONOMER = MOON RAIDER'S ROAST

GUITARIST = I TUG SITAR

ROCK GUITARIST = OUR TRAGIC SKIT / AORTIC GUT RISK

Maybe its time I took another look at my potential career choices!

A piece of HIStory..

2009-06-27T00:45:00.002+05:30

The world was somewhere in the dying weeks of the year 1995. In one of the forgotten bylanes somewhere in Mumbai, walking alongside his mother, was a little kid, oblivious to the implications of both the time-frame and space-frame. Something caught his eye, and in an era when the word 'window-shopping' was probably yet to be invented, suddenly the little child was transfixed, staring at something through the display pane of a shop. Navigating between the twin storms generated by the newly discovered overpowering urge to own it, and the stark reality of the price of the object of desire, the kid reached the shore of compromise, trying hard to convince himself that it wasn't nearly worth all of the 250 Rupees of his hard-saved money, and walked away from the window.

They say God made mothers because He couldn't be everywhere. And God knew, albeit a jiffy after the mother, that the kid wanted it. Wanted it badly. Twenty feet beyond the shop window, mom's love asserted itself in the form of insistence. Half-resisting, the kid was practically pushed into the shop, and a small cardboard box pushed into his eager hands. The mother even pretended that she was 'lending' him the 250 bucks, and that he was to pay her back from his savings when they reached home. The kid could never figure out how to tell his mother how much he loves her. But that's what makes mothers such a good substitute for God. They don't need to be told.

Two whole days later, the ten-year old was nearly dancing with anticipation when he finally arrived home, a few hundred kilometers away from Mumbai. He tore through the plastic packing, and with shaking hands, held the two cassette covers, neither anticipating, nor fully comprehending what was to come. Out came the cassette and went straight into the cassette player. And as HIStory played, history repeated itself, as it already had, millions of times around the world. The boy would never be the same again.

The first piece of music that transfixes your soul is like the first teacher who holds your hand and teaches you to write, suddenly empowering you with a new paradigm. Through the years, you meet a number of teachers who open your eyes to numerous other things, but the first one will always hold a special place in some corner of your heart.

Fast forward to 15 years later, and it has been about 9 years since the kid has heard from the cassette. He often contemplates pursuing a serious career in music, but he has moved to other genres and expressions of music. He plays the guitar now, propelled towards a musical direction that so very often mocks at the very genre of the music on the original cassette. But today, suddenly, he is vividly cognizant of the debt that he owes to the person who created the music that taught the boy's heart to sing.

Rest in Peace MJ.

Playing for Change

2009-06-14T03:00:00.006+05:30

"The only difference between a rut and a grave is the depth.."

Every once in a while, blogwise, I get into one of these ruts (and given the above line, closer to the grave). Then comes along something that kicks me out of the rut and steers me clear of the grave.

Every once in a while, I also develop a(n extremely undesirable) feeling about what I'm doing in life being superior to what most other people are doing. Then comes along something that makes me literally stop dead in my tracks and re-examine how much value am I adding to the world in terms of things that really matter.

And once in a while, there comes along something which does both of the above, and I just have to share it with all of you. :D

Playing for Change is a worldwide multimedia project aimed at bringing people together through the all-pervasive power of music. Each of the tracks embedded below have been performed by multiple musicians, geographically separated by thousands of miles across five continents, The ensemble of extremely talented musicians includes musicians who are members of a choir or structured music group alongside musicians performing on the streets around the world, working towards a common dream.
You can find a more detailed explanation here.

When I first stumbled onto this project while rambling around in cyberspace, I was stunned to hear the performances of varied origin merging seamlessly into each other to create musical entities of such infinite beauty. When the street musicians perform, calling out to a new world of hope, you can see the moisture in their eyes, and feel the years of experiences peeking through the quaver in their voices. The emotions in the voices and instruments all around the world have been beautifully captured in a way unparalleled by anything else known to me, that has been produced under constraints of this nature.

Stand by Me

Chanda Mama
(No that's not a typo, try out the vid!)

No More Trouble

One Love

Don't Worry

Please help spread the word around by putting up a banner on your blogs like I've done on mine. More of us need to hear of this endeavour.

On a pensive note, rather than write equations and programs, I yearn to write this melody of hope, love, brotherhood and acceptance across the lives of people. To me, THAT is making a significant difference. This is really the kind of stuff that I really want to do with my life. I shall. To quote one of the tracks, A Change is Gonna Come... :D

Luv-n-Luck,
Av

Happy Birthday to Me!!

2009-06-11T03:44:00.002+05:30

I'm a quarter century old today.. :D
Luv,
Av

P.S. - Blogposts coming soon..

Ascension

2009-02-18T16:00:00.009+05:30

The above image is courtesy Jason Evans from The Clarity of Night. He held a story writing competition, with stories inspired by the photograph above. The challenging part was, the story had to be limited to 250 words. I came to know of the contest with only a couple of days left for submission. I could not come up with anything within that time-frame, largely, I suspect, due to the self-limiting belief that I haven't done any story-writing before. So I ardently, if passively, followed the contest and I must say, it was an absolute pleasure.

Weeks later, after the winners have been chosen and applauded, my meandering mind has finally generated something, so here is my take. The first story I've ever written. Try not to be brutal with your comments. Here goes :

The Irony of FILE

"Wherever and whenever we are together, always hold me to your left" she said. “So I wouldn’t interfere with the purpose of your life.”
Did she know that she was contradicting herself? I wouldn't ever know.
But I still sleep on the right side of the bed, alone, smiling at the irony.

We bought exactly identical denims on our shared 18th birthday, to mark our metamorphosis from boys to men.

“18 till we die” we decided. Did we really comprehend those words? I'm not sure.
But I still wear those denims on the day only I grow older every year, alone, smiling at the irony.

One of my earliest memories is one of him sitting pillion on my tricycle, facing backwards.
One day, years later, he introduced me to her, bringing her to me on his bike, seated backwards, so that I could not identify my promised "hot date" from afar and backtrack with nervousness.

They both used to say that too often in life we miss what we have and will have, because we are too busy looking at what we have left behind. And then we used to laugh at the irony. They were both veterans at dyslexia. But was their’s the only kind?

Some people fear the slits at the bottom and the top of the elevator. I fear the invisible crack that runs down the middle, causing the two sides to ascend at different speeds.
I still ride the elevator backwards, alone, smiling at the irony.

P.S. - Just for the record, its EXACTLY 250 words. :D

The girl at office..

2009-02-14T23:59:00.019+05:30

In the dying hours of another V-day spent alone, I can't help but reminisce about her..

So much for not dipping your pen into the company ink. Here goes..

I see her often at office. I wish I could say I see her everyday. But history bears testimony to the fact that fate has long been the tormentor of love. Sometimes we talk, and sometimes we don't. But I hardly notice that, because she speaks to me beyond words. Her very presence speaks to my soul. When I can see her, I don't just see. I observe. I hear. I smell. I taste. I feel. She makes me understand what John Denver was referring to when he sang "You fill up my senses".

The gal who struck up the conversation with me on the first day, when I was still gathering courage to smile at her.

The gal who used to pretend she didn't notice when I walked in through the door of the training room, only to check me out later when I was busy with my work.

The gal who was unsure of exactly how far I would allow someone while having a personal discussion.

The gal who was genuinely concerned more about me cracking the acceptance test than herself.

The gal who tries to be by my side in a group photo, even if it means me holding a couple of fingers as horns behind her head.

The gal who smiles assuringly at me when someone opposes my opinion over something.

The gal who likes to say "thank you" or "sorry" to me once in a while, for reasons that generally escape me.

The gal who likes to pretend that she didn't really care, when I open a door for her, or walk on the outer side of the street.

The gal who keeps track of how long it has been since we had a photo taken of just the two of us.

The gal who blushes and lowers her gaze when I just look into her eyes without smiling when she wishes me goodmorning.

The gal who pauses outside the music room and listens to me pounding on the drums, or strumming the strings, without coming in because she thinks it would distract me.

The gal who sometimes gives me big, warm smiles for apparently no reason at all.

The gal who reads up on some topics on wikipedia, that she knows I'm currently high on, just so that she can understand what the blabbering is all about.

The gal who assures me that it makes her feel good when I am protective of her, when I express my doubts about how far people should interfere in each other's lives.

The gal who gives me the whole box of traditional sweets sent to her from home, because she knows I love them.

The gal who sends me meaningless messages over chat when she can't think of anything to say to start the conversation.

The gal who calls me names, or pretends to be angry at me, if she feels that I haven't been giving her attention for the last few days.

The gal who I can compliment just by smiling at her and nodding my head in silent approval.

The gal whose cute nose wiggles ever so slightly, acting as a give-away sign, when she disapproves of something.

The gal who pretends to be not very hungry and asks me to finish her tiffin, as she knows I crave home-cooked food.

The gal who wears a new accessory to office and then waits patiently for me to take notice.

The gal who puts up with my wierd ideas and numerous offshoots in the course of a discussion.

The gal who sometimes stays back late because my work is not done, just so that we can go back in the same bus.

The gal who then lets me sleep on the bus, even though she wants to talk.

The gal who holds my hand just a jiffy too long when we shake hands.

The gal who learns the crazy handshakes I teach her and agrees to do them everytime we meet.

The gal who pauses a moment before we part everytime, evaluating the possibility of a good-bye hug.

The gal who gently snuggles up to me when I place an arm around her, and sometimes lays her head gently on my shoulder.

The babe with the beautiful hair.

The hot chick with the long legs, AND high heels.

The enchantress with the mesmerizing eyes.

I could go on and on.. But there's just one thing I'd like to say:

I really wish all of these were the one, same gal!

Hahaha! Valentine's fool!!

But on a personal note, a big, warm hug to all my female friends who can relate to something above. You are indeed special to me, and in my own quirky way, I love you more than you'll ever know.

Keep the faith,

A knot in time..

2009-02-04T01:00:00.008+05:30

This is a thread of thought that emerged in the course of a very "no-souls-barred" discussion that I had with one of my close friends in Pune. I thought I would like to share it with everyone else. Here goes:

Once in a while, everyone tends to have a really deep, meaningful discussion with a friend, a parent, a spouse or a total stranger. In retrospect, a great conversation feels like a great moment that you share forever with that person. I like to think of it as a little private isle that the two of you discovered in the middle of the ocean, hidden from everyone else.

On the surface, a great conversation seems to be all about two people sharing a moment. But dive underneath the surface of momentary perception into the waters of continually observing consciousness and the paradigm changes. To me, a conversation is like a game of chess. At every point, there are numerous ways in which it could develop, depending on what you say, or how you percieve what the other person has said and what thoughts, feelings or emotions it triggers inside you. And vice-versa.

In this perspective it is quite obvious to conclude that the way one reacts to something is not governed by causes which are ephemeral. Rather it is governed by your whole life. By your perceptions of all the experiences you have had, the subconscious co-relations that you have made, and the inferences you have drawn from them. It is about the fact that when you really speak from the heart to someone whom you trust with your real emotions, you are bringing your whole self, your complete existence to the table, to that ONE moment in time.

Secondly, when you really open up to someone and share with them the very core of your feelings, and the other person does the same, both the persons are in a place where they are quite vulnerable. The beauty of that moment always outlasts the momentary, and the warm fuzzy feeling inside oneself that you take away is most certainly far from evanescent.

I like to think of a two people sharing a great conversation as two long threads in time, intertwining for a brief moment before flowing off in different directions again. It is like a reference point that you can mentally re-visit at will, and it will remind you of all the warmth that you have in your life. Quite contrary to Mr Schopenhauer's theory, eh?

On a lighter note, is that why they say that love is a knotty affair??

Luv-n-Luck,

When Love kills Love

2009-02-02T22:37:00.007+05:30

Since today morning, I have been listening to a single song on infinite loop so I thought that I would share it with everyone. The song is called When Love Kills Love and its by the band Scorpions. Scorpions has always been one of my favourite bands for their uncanny ability to strike an amazing balance between intensity and sensitivity. Then, a few weeks ago, I bought a DVD of their concert Acoustica and life hasn't been the same ever since. The concert was performed inside a monastery called Convento do Beato in Lisbon, Portugal. The DVD was shot using 12 cameras and needless to say, is breathtaking. The ensemble included a piano, a cello and an extra percussion section other than the regular band members. They performed a nice mix of their all time hits, a few new songs and even a couple of covers, totalling up to 21 songs. The most amazing part is that the music arrangements for all the songs were completely re-done for the acoustic instruments setup. Absolutely a must-check-out piece of rock music history!

The lyrics for the song are also superbly written. Listen closely!
Here's the song:

This is probably the first and only acoustic song yet to which I have head-banged like I did today morning. I just couldn't resist its groovy feel. Also, I thought that it would make an interesting follow-up to the last post, giving the Hedgehog's Dilemma a new, intriguing twist!
In closing, here are my instantaneous thoughts on the topic:

When love kills love
Its just love gone blind
For true love never dies
Lingers on in heart & mind

When love kills love
Its no more than suicide
I thought I had you killed
But it was me who died..

Luv-n-luck,
Av

A picture, a story, a song, a theory, a thought and a poem!

2009-02-02T22:35:00.004+05:30

Once upon a time on a very cold winter night (unlike what winter pretends to be, here in Pune), a group of hedgehogs was shivering in their little hole in the ground. Misery written all over their little snouts, they were praying for the first sign of summer and huddling together for some warmth. This was when an interesting situation presented itself. When they were apart, they would feel cold, and when they came closer to share their heat, their spines would hurt each other. So they had to choose either cold over pain or pain over cold.

Kelly Rowland and Nelly collaborated on a totally awesome rap/hip-hop song called DILEMMA, that I absolutely love. It won the 2003 Grammy Award for Best Rap/Sung Collaboration. Its one of the most groovy songs I've ever heard and makes me wanna dance every single time I hear it. Check it out!

But I'm sure you wonder why am I talking about this odd combination of a creature and two crooners?? Well, that needs yet another pic, and here it is!

This (not-so-friendly-looking) gentleman was named Arthur Schopenhauer. His work has influenced people right from the composer Richard Wagner to the psychoanalytic psychiatrist Sigmund Freud. Mr. Schopenhaeur was the first one to refer to a social psychology phenomenon called the Hedgehog's Dilemma, in his book called Parerga und Paralipomena. The theory basically refers to a metaphoric situation described in the story above, with the argument that even with the best interests in mind, intimacy in human relations can not occur without harm to both the persons involved. This leads to over-cautious behavior, which is directly responsible for fragile relationships. A corollary to this, also proposed in the same book is that if one posses enough internal warmth, one can avoid society and subsequently the psychological discomfort (argued to be) inevitable from social interaction.

To me, the paradoxical part of the theory is that such behavior is actually in the interest of both the people involved, because it protects them from the risk of getting hurt. Another funny part is that the behavior occurs inspite of sharing a goodwill and intention of a close relationship.

Secondly, the corollary is used to explain introversion and isolationism. I might be wrong, but somehow I just can't bring myself to believe that most of the people who exhibit these characteristics are really 'internally warm'. To make things complicated, I myself display traces of both the behaviours (though I've managed to tone things down over the past few years). I can surely vouch for the fact that a lot of times, it is not because you are feeling "warm enough' or for self-protection, but just because you are in a brainspace where you don't want your thoughts to be disturbed. Sometimes it might also occur because you dont psychologically percieve the interaction with or the company of a set of people (or society in general) as a high-value proposition. Then again, is that exactly what Mr. Schopenhauer refers to as "warmth"? Am I contradicting myself? Tell me what you think about this. I would love to hear your thoughts.

Just in keeping with the theme of this post, I want to end it with an anonymous poem titled

The Dilemma

To laugh is to risk appearing a fool.
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental.
To reach out for another is to risk involvement.
To expose feelings is to risk rejection.
To place your dreams before the crowd is to risk ridicule.
To love is to risk not being loved in return.
To go forward in the face of overwhelming odds is to risk failure.
But risks must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing.
The person who risks nothing does nothing, has nothing, is nothing.
He may avoid suffering and sorrow, but he cannot learn, feel, change, grow or love.
Chained by his certitudes, he is a slave.
He has forfeited his freedom.
Only a person who takes risks is free.

Luv-n-Luck,
Av

Rendezvous with Excellence!

2009-01-22T23:45:00.012+05:30

Today was a special day indeed. I had a rare opportunity to meet, listen to and personally interact with somebody who has made India proud at the highest level in his chosen field. Its was a wonderful privilege.

The first impression that Pullela Gopichand leaves on your is the absolute inner peace that reflects from his demeanor. That is just moments before you realize that he is a very quiet man outwardly too. A few minutes into the talk, and he unravels the mystery: "If you have a legal[sic] vent to all the energy inside you, it makes you peaceful at all other times".

What I liked the most about Gopi, as he's fondly called (but apparently dislikes), was that he has struck the fine balance between being humble, but being unapologetically proud of his accomplishments, without trying to play down the price he has paid for them. Being soft-spoken, but at the same time, being able to verbalize his love and commitment towards the sport, in an infectiously passionate manner, that left the whole auditorium awe-struck.

When asked what sacrifices he made on the demanding road to success, he stumped everybody with the elusively obvious, simple reasoning of: "If you love what you are doing, nothing else that you give up feels like a sacrifice" .

And finally, I asked him what he thought about Malcolm Gladwell's 10,000 Hour Theory , and if out of his experience as a player and a coach, he could quantify success. He just gave one of his soothing smiles, and as the picture inset above was taken, said the words that will stay with me for the rest of my life: "I know only one number for success. 100. Give it your 100% !".

I Will!
Av

P.S. - A load of thanks to my friend Sayo for the timely snap!

Stuff I'm listening to..

2009-01-19T00:01:00.003+05:30

I thought that I would share with everyone what I've been listening to throughout all weekend. The inset vidz are actually only audios, so that you don't get distracted from the music.

Lets start with some hip-hop (yes, this is still Av posting!)

This one's by a Toronto based nu-funk band called GOD MADE ME FUNKY! Its called LUV T'DAY and is on the OST of American Pie: Beta House. It plays during the pool party in the very last scene. I love the groove. Check it out!

This is a heavy one by the immensely skilled band Necrophagist. Their genre of music, believe it or not, is called Technical Death Metal.

This last one is by DEEP PURPLE. Its called SOMETIMES I FEEL LIKE SCREAMING, and its what I've been listening to the whole last week, not just the weekend. The lazy-sounding leads by Steve Morse are addictive!

There you go. My musical palette for most of the weekend, spanning three musical styles, laid out for you. Hope you like it!

Luv-n-Luck,
Av

Genius!!

2009-01-17T00:56:00.012+05:30

As you can see on the right, I have added a fresh new widget to the blog. Its from the CriticsRant blog readability test. According to it, you apparently need to be a genius to read and understand this blog. So for all the folks who have been happily following the random ramblings in this tiny corner of cyber-space, CONGRATS! You are all Geniuses!

I tried a number of blogs in the link, and no other blog gave the same result as this one. For a while, this massaged my bloated ego to great comfort. Then, suddenly sense raised its logical head. If a blog required the reader to be a genius to understand it, then given the statistic of only about 2% of population being geniuses, most people would not be able to follow it! Hmmm.. that kinda explains the dearth of comments. :D

Speaking of geniuses, Malcolm Gladwell's latest book has stirred up quite a hornet's nest by its unique take on the idea of genius. He argues that if you dedicate 10,000 hours of your life to ANYTHING that you are "just about okay" at, you shall get "world-class" at it. Now that offers some hope, doesnt it?

The argument presented is on similar lines of what one great polymath, Herb Simon proposed many many years back, saying that to become an expert required about 10 years of experience and internalizing about 50,000 chunks of information. One of his students called Anders Ericsson took it a step further when he developed the Theory of Skilled Memory. (Warning - pedantic link!!)

Probably to spice up the other end of the spectrum, Mr Gladwell also presents extensive statistical data to suggest that "making it big" is also a function hugely dependent on luck, principally in the form of where and when you were born. The data he has researched and put together is quite compellingly varied and hence comes dangerously close to destroying the idea of the self-made man.

Book reviews on the net fire away at how the arguments are not watertight, and indeed the 10,000 Hour criteria can surely not be heralded as a Necessary-and-Sufficient condition for success. Neither necessary nor sufficient, actually. The Beatles surely did not jam around for 10,000 hours before they made it big. Nor is every guitarist who has been playing for 20 years in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

But everything else apart, I really believe that the author's strength does not lie in presenting impeccable arguments. His forte is writing about abstract concepts, through the use of anecdotes and everyday examples, to arrive at a way of conveying slippery theories, that is at once vibrant, riveting and memorable. That is something he has always succeeded admirably at ever since his first book. Which is exactly what makes him dangerous. A gullible reader runs the very real risk of believing ideas which may not be that firmly rooted in reality.

In closing, a humbling quote by the great critic George Bernard Shaw, who has had something to say about practically everything under the sun:
"Common sense is instinct. Enough of it is genius."

Luv-n-Luck,
Av

FINALLY!!!!!!

2009-01-01T22:55:00.019+05:30

What better way to kick off 2009? This is a something that I've waited and waited to post. God-willing, the time has come. I can almost not believe that I am finally doing this.

For days, weeks, months and years now, I'd been planning on getting a guitar rig. I just didn't want to compromise on any count, and so the process of evaluation and selection was becoming tediously long. Add to that the numerous times the plan got cancelled/postponed, and you might begin to appreciate why I can't believe that I've finally done it. As of now, I can proudly say, that sans the amp, I've finally got what I was looking for. In a long pre-planned display of self indulgence, I got the following during the last few weeks that I was away from the blog.

First came the processor, the LINE 6 POD X3Live :

And then the axe, the IBANEZ RG-420EG-SBK :

I was actually planning to brag about my brand-new equipment, but I'm feeling unusually modest and humble. It can probably be attributed to what a wise man once said :
"With great power comes great responsibility."

So I'll just close with yet another quote I live my life by:
"My tastes are very simple. I like the very best."

Luv-n-Luck,
Av

P.S. - Happy New Year people! May this year be the healthiest, wealthiest, most peaceful year of your life.. yet. :D

Cyclic Expressionism contd...

2008-12-04T10:14:00.003+05:30

Thoughts from today morning:

"Child is the Father of Man"
"Father is the Man of Child"
"Man is the Child of Father"
"Child is the Man of Father"
"Father is the Child of Man"
"Man is the Father of Child"

All of these seem to make sense too!!!
Alright, no more.. this is getting weird..
:D

Necessity is the mother of invention..

2008-12-03T10:56:00.010+05:30

"Mothers are the Necessity of Invention"
I had used this corollary of the famous quote while referring to birth-control measures, en-route to winning a debate competition a coupla months back. Quite a few people got that one after they went home. :D

It got me thinking of all the other corollaries..

1) "Mother is the Invention of Necessity"
2) "Invention is the Necessity of Mother"
3) "Necessity is the Invention of Mother"
4) "Invention is the Mother of Necessity"

All of them seem logical in some context or the other! Funny isn't it??
Cyclic Expressionism!

RIP Mumbai

2008-11-27T17:27:00.008+05:30

Through a curious turn of events, I was right on Nepean Sea Road, South Mumbai when the two blasts occurred in the vicinity of the area last night. For the first time in my life, I actually heard the "boom" of two bombs going off. The first blast was a moment which escapes definition by me. In one split second, for the first time in my life, I felt first-hand, what terror feels like and how it can cause cataclysmic disturbances in the peaceful life of people far removed from the actual cause; physically, mentally and opinion-wise. More importantly, I could realize how the horror is not even remotely close or even similar to the "harbinger-of-doom" phrases used by our idiotic media to grab eyeballs. They just dont "get it".

Case in point, an instance where somebody trapped inside the TAJ hotel (in which the militants had held up hostages) gave one of the News Channels a direct call. The poor soul was repeatedly saying in English that they need help and that the commandos should rapidly advance to the higher floors. At this point of time, the News anchor was stupid enough to utter,"Kya aa hamaare darshakon ko HINDI (sic) me bataa sakte hain ki wahaan ki sthiti kya hai??"
I rest my case.

On the other hand, big-time respect to all the army/police/commando officers who rose to the call of duty and did not flinch to lay down their lives in the process. The nation, even though shaken, stands proud. Peace to you.

What really got to me was the after-thought that the people in terror-affected areas around the country (and indeed, around the world) live in this dark shadow all of their lives. 24X7. And still manage to smile. Kudos to them all, in the wake of the realization that sitting inside an AC room/office, one can never "get it". No amount of News Channel coverage can ever hope to make you feel it. You have to experience the clutching feeling in your own chest. Your dreams, your aspirations, your memories, your grudges, your plans, your vision, your abilities, your very existence suddenly gasping for breath. The sudden realization of how easily and unpredictably it might all come to an end for no reason or cause, for you or against you.

On a optimistic note, as I made my way back to Pune this morning, I saw Mumbai trying to creep back to normalcy, even though the crisis was not yet over. Just one word came to my mind. Resilience. Salaam Mumbai..

But the events of the past 24 hours have triggered a chain reaction inside me, which forces me to re-think, re-consider, re-define and re-arrange the priority order of my life. I think it should indeed be a periodic exercise to examine if the things that we give the greatest part of our time, energy and our very lives are really worth it.

I want to close this post with a quote that I hold very close to my heart:
"The true measure of a man's wealth is what he has invested in eternity."

Peace to the departed souls,
Av

Quote of the day...

2008-11-26T15:03:00.005+05:30

“Some scientists claim that hydrogen, because it is so plentiful, is the basic building block of the universe. I dispute that. I say there is more stupidity than hydrogen, and that is the basic building block of the universe.”
- Frank Zappa

"Not only is stupidity the most abundant element, it is also the lightest. It seems to make people rise up in an organizational hierarchy faster than anything else."
- Av's corollary
(derived through experience in the corporate world)

Glimpses from Sinhagad

2008-11-24T10:35:00.010+05:30

Hi Everyone!

Incase you are wondering where I got that lovely snap from the last post, let me tell you I have taken the shot myself! On an otherwise would-be non-descript friday, I had gone biking up Sinhagad with a few of my KPIT cronies!

Presenting, the gang!

The moon reflected in the waters of the Khadakwasla Dam, en-route to Sinhagad!

The mesmerizing view from atop..

Some random photography..

When life and dreams collide!

And finally, as you can see, I have an almost unhealthy penchant for shooting bugs!

It was fantastic to take some time out and slow down for a while. I was feeling all relaxed even after two days! I guess the little trip really soothed everyone's nerves a bit.
It was a pretty creative time. While I was running around taking snaps, "shighra-kavi" Sudip composed a poem! Even I composed half a poem, but was too taken up by things begging to be photographed to complete it. I did have a good conversation with a certain Mr Tanaji Malusare, though!

All in all, it was a great time! Even though we had to ride straight back into office after that!

Luv-n-Luck,
Av

Stand in my Shadow

2008-11-18T10:17:00.009+05:30

Stand here in my shadow,
Stay safe under my wing,
Fear not the many struggles
That tomorrow shall bring;

Take some time to introspect
Just a moment's silent repose,
Learn to smile under the rain,
If you aspire for the rainbows;

Take life along where you go
Be dragged not in life's wake,
All that your life will ever be
Is what you decided to make;

Leave behind all your regrets
Break free of your every guilt,
Brick by brick, hope by hope
Is how your life shall be built;

Live each moment to its fullest
Heed the old words of the wise,
Whether you be tiny or be huge
Remember to live life king-size!

Av

A small spark..

2008-11-17T16:28:00.008+05:30

There is something cool about saying - "I come from the land of a billion sparks!"

This sentence, spoken by Chetan Bhagat a few months back at Symbiosis College here in Pune, has somehow stuck in my head. Yesterday I saw one possible interpretation of it.

I was riding along the road, when I saw a spark. Or I thought I did, cause it was something really bright. Turned out to be a smile. A bright radiant smile. It was serene, and not even remotely defiant, but it almost seemed to mock at the countless scowls that surrounded it. Maybe that contrast was exactly what made it stand out so starkly. It was the best smile that I've seen in weeks. It came from a soul. It came from a heart. The heart of a man who was happy.

A man who was carefree.
A man who was living in the moment, without the past weighing him down, or the future pulling him ahead too fast.
A man who was either completely oblivious or absolutely immune (or both) to his surroundings.
A man at peace.
A man, who was standing on top of a heap of waste-bags loaded into a garbage truck.

Surrounded by busy, "successful" people with "respectable jobs", holding their handkerchiefs to their noses, but trying to go around the garbage truck, acting as if the truck itself did not exist, leave alone the man perched on top of it.

A single smiling human amongst a wave of mindless rat-robots... That's a spark for you!

Av

Hibernation Update - 2

2008-11-11T19:53:00.005+05:30

Hi everyone,
The suspense is over. The results are out!
I am now a certified Nutrition & Wellness Advisor.
Get over it. Its true.
:D
Luv-n-Luck,
Av

PS - Oh btw, I scored 95% on the certification exam.

Hibernation update..

2008-10-24T09:28:00.002+05:30

Hi everyone,

Especially everyone who has been pestering me to post something. :P
I am presently on intellectual hibernate mode, but having said that, I do have something up my sleeves that I shall be posting soon.

P.S. - For all the people who are wondering about my Orkut line (Exams Rock!), the result of my exam should be out VERY soon, and I'll be posting it here.. :D
Watch this space!

Luv-n-Luck,
Av

Blogging on the "FLY"!!

2008-07-14T13:58:00.012+05:30

For a few days, I was thinking about what would be a good follow up to the last post. Then it struck me that yet another one of my compositions is in a similar vein to the last one, in terms of the hope, possibility and anticipation. Also the theme of this one is also loosely based on the idea of rising to the next level. What is interesting is that this composition also plays upon Death and Life using the word "fly". However, in juxtaposition to the last post, the word "fly" denotes going away from Death, and not closer to it. These two compositions were written by me as an exercise in twisting ideas and words around to suit one's intentions. (Its not actually as evil as it sounds.. Hehe..)

The real story behind the curtain is that ever since the first time I read William Wordsworth's and Robert Herrick's contrasting poems on daffodils in fifth grade, I always wanted to compose about something from two points of view. With these two compositions, I have not exactly done that, in the sense that both the compositions are in a optimistic vein. However I have endeavoured to treat a single word in two exactly opposite contexts. While the last song dwells on the absolute, unchanging finality, this one talks about

WINDS OF CHANGE

You've lived this life
One moment too long,
Just leave it behind
With me come along,

You're trapped in your world
You're trapped in your mind
Its time you wake up and
Leave this illusion behind.. (1)

Take off your masks
Shed off your skins,
Get out of these
Cities of ruins,

Lets sail to those lands
far beyond the sea
And when we reach there
You'll be glad you came with me.. (2)

Fly with me my friends,
Fly with me tonight..
Fly high my brothers,
Fly by my side..

Lets fly..
To where the children of tomorrow spread their wings,
Lets fly..
To where every moment new joys brings,
Lets fly..
To the world which yet seems out of our range,
Lets fly..
Gliding along the winds of change..

Now its time, to move ahead,
Now its time, to leave the pain,
Now its time, to come back from the dead,
Now its time, to live again...

Just as a sidenote, this was the song that I'd sung for my first-ever public performance with the guitar, and that after about 5 years, I sung it again for my guitar students last sunday. :D

Luv-n-Luck,
Av

ITS TIME..

2008-06-19T10:08:00.010+05:30

I woke up today morning inexplicably humming a little something that I'd composed years before, and it took my mind back to the that time, which was a very uphill, learning period in my life. It also made me ponder upon the importance of keeping your core, your integrity, your hope and your belief in yourself intact in tough times, because that is the only thing that will see you through.

I wish I could make it sound "celeb" by saying something like Lars Ulrich says ("That was a time in our lives when me and James used to be very obsessed with death") about the song Fade to Black, on the Metallica documentary. However the real deal is that I was not obsessed with death when I composed this, I was just terribly low because I was going through a period of growth and learning the hard way. Having said that, I also must say that while the composition talks about death, the song is about hope, and not despair. I had originally used the word "die", but it sounded too negative and absolute. So I substituted it with "fly" to give it a sense of possibility, hope, freedom and eagerness towards what is to come. Here goes..

ITS TIME

Its that time of my life,
When my eyelids feel heavy.
Heavy, with the weight of life,
Heavy, to the pull of death..

It’s time for me to fly…

Its that time of my life,
When my life’s time is shrinking.
Shrinking, to the point of no return,
Not that I really want to return..

It’s time for me to fly…

Its that time of my life,
When my soul is ready to embark,
Embark, upon a new journey,
A journey to eternity,
A journey to immortality..

It’s time for me to fly…

Its that time of my life,
When I can hear the humming
Of the wing of death
The wing of death, as it comes to me,
Comes to take me along,
Comes to take me away..

It’s time for me to fly…

Its that time of my life,
When i can feel myself submerging
Into a cocoon of darkness
The darkness of the brightest eternal light,
The light emanating from my creator..

It’s time for me to fly…

Its that time of my life,
When i feel weary,
Weary, of dying a thousand deaths
A thousand deaths, in every breath,
Every fleeting breath of life..

It’s time for me to fly…

It’s time for me to fly to my maker,
It’s time for me to take refuge in his arms,
It’s time for me to merge with the one,
It’s time for me to join the company
Of the lost souls of the netherworld..

It’s time for me to live...

This is the only song that I have written till date that does not rhyme, but the repetition of the words within the verse creates an internal sense of rhythm and combined with the single line refrain, it opens up extremely interesting musical composition possibilities.
The composition is loosely about Life after Death, but some of my closest friends who have read it before have come up with very interesting perceptions of individual lines, right from carnal to spiritual. I would like to hear of more from everyone who is reading this. Please write back to me.

Luv-n-Luck,
Av

Birthday Cakes!

2008-06-16T10:14:00.004+05:30

My birthday this year was very special. It wasn't meant to be. Infact I had no real celebration, no huge birthday-bash. It was pretty low-key. But then again, that was just my plan.

My friends had not intentions of it being low key. So it happens that my birthday has stretched over 5 days, in which I have cut 4 cakes, have been given birthday bumps 2 times and have had my face covered with cake thrice! So for the next coupla posts, i am gonna post a few pictures of all these happenings. The first one is

THE CAKES!!

I want to express a very big thank you to all the people who have made the occasion very special by wishing me in person, over telephone, email, sms, telegraph, morse-code whatnot! I want everyone to know that I take your love and best wishes straight to my heart.
Each and every one of you is very special to me, in your own unique way.

For all the idiots who forgot my birthday, I still love you guys, but I shall not hesitate to kick you next time we meet!
:D

Luv-n-Luck,
Av

A post long due..

2008-06-13T11:05:00.012+05:30

Many moons (and posts) ago, I said the following;

"While composing this poem, I have affirmed an interesting comparison I have believed in for quite some time now. Expect to hear about it soon!!"

And finally, after a bazillion posts, today happens to be the "soon"!

So here goes..

Composing poetry (or music), as I've long felt, is very much like delivering a baby, and here are Av’s TOP TEN REASONS why!

1) You can plan for it all that you want, but a poem will always take shape at the most unplanned moment.

2) It is really hard to make one, when you really feel like having one. On the other hand, if you take your mind off the task and relax, it is much easier to conceive. An idea, that is!

3) Sometimes after you have composed a poem, you are not really sure who or what caused it in the first place.

4) Sometimes you do not want to, or can not afford to write the poem at that point in your life, and you have no choice but to abort the budding inspiration inside you.

5) An idea/inspiration has to linger around in your head for a certain period of time before it is ready to become a poem and during this period some ideas will die prematurely before they are ready to take form.

6) Sometimes if a poem emerges before the idea is fully formed, it will not survive. (Read as, Av crumbling up the paper and throwing it into the wastepaper basket.)

7) After an idea is done with its gestation period inside your head, it will start struggling to come out, and you have no choice but to let it.

8) It is always easier to compose a poem if you are in a comfortable position and place.

9) It hurts like hell to do it, but it’s the most beautiful experience, and you couldn’t be any happier after it is done.

10) Years later, when the same words/melodies lend themselves to varied meanings, you look back at them and wonder, “Did I really create that??”

How is that for a creative analogy!!! However, poets are not given half the credit that mothers are! So here is a poem I composed a couple of years back, to highlight the brave deed that composition is!

POETRY CAN BE DANGEROUS!

To all my friends and even my foes
I have a word of advice,
If you are thinking of composing poems
Make sure you think twice!

Writing poems is something nice
Or that is what everyone thinks,
But very few actually do notice
The problems that it brings!

The gift of putting words in rhyme
And rhythm is considered rare,
But no one thinks of all the trouble
The poet has to bear!

For one, when you feel poetic
Nothing else can you contemplate,
Everything else except your poem
You have to procrastinate!

It’s always at an awkward time
When by this impulse you are hit,
You drop your work and start composing
Under a violent poetical fit!

You compose lines upon lines of verse
And see your poem through,
But if insatiated, you still compose
Yet another poem or two!

May god forbid, but if it so happens
That your poem remains uncomposed,
The inspiring idea will hammer your brain
Till you start to feel quite dozed!

And if your poem remains halfway
Then the situation is even worse,
The half-ghost of the half-poem continues
To haunt your every new verse!

So make sure to think twice about
Becoming a poet before its too late,
I just decided to write in verse once
And to this day I can’t talk straight!!

Hahahaha! Like always, I'm eager to hear some feedback from all you folks, and as I suspect, quite a few of you will be taking the list further too! What the heck, I might do it in one of the posts myself. Get me started!!

Luv-n-Luck,

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!

2008-06-11T10:36:00.002+05:30

Thats it!!

Inspiration!!

2008-06-10T10:47:00.007+05:30

A lot of my friends who recently discovered my blog have asked me what the title of my blog means. I thought the explanation below the title would be sufficient, but it apparently is not, so here goes..

My blog is an effort to keep aside my geeky self and dig deeper. It is an excuse to dwell upon things sometimes mundane, mostly abstract, and decidedly always beyond definition by formulae. Hence, my process of posting a blog is a quite an interesting one. It is a process of passive response. I never pro-actively try to come up with stuff to post, because doing that involves too much of the brain and not enough of the mind!

Generally it is something I read, something I listen to, or an unexpected conversation that triggers my thoughts. However, nothing of the sort has happened since quite a few days. Well over a month infact, to be precise. Meanwhile quite a few of my friends had been kind enough to send me multiple reminders that I hadn't posted since quite a while, and a new post was due, but I told them off saying that I didn't have anything to post about. For quite a while now, I've been waiting for some sudden inspiration to burst upon me, so that I would post something on the blog. Sure, there were a few stray thoughts and ideas, but they are yet to materialize into blog-worthy stuff. Then this morning, I just looked at my outdated blog-page and an interesting thought struck me.

It was all wrong!! When has looking for inspiration OUTSIDE of yourself ever been the right thing to do??? The truth suddenly dawned on me as i remembered a few lines from the book I was reading this morning :
"No matter who patted you on the backside when you came struggling into human life, you took your first breath alone. When you take your last breath in earthly matters, you shall take it alone. How then is it, that somewhere in between, in that time we call LIFE, we expect someone else to do our breathing for us? No-one else can ever live a single moment of our lives for us. That we must do ourselves. That is responsibility."

So hereby declared, that I, Av, assume responsibility of pushing my mind to creative output, without the necessity of any external stimulation! Speaking of which, here's a poem that I JUST composed! Right after typing that last line!

ITS ALL MINE

Its all mine, my every breath
That I shall breathe, from life till death;

Its all mine, my entire life
That I must live, through joy and strife;

Its all mine, this moment here
When I must learn to face my fear;

Its all mine, this mine of gold
This is my life that I must mould;

I am the foe that I must face,
I am the friend I must embrace;
I am the change that I must make,
I am the shackle that I must break;

I am the truth I must believe,
I am the victory I must achieve;
I am the record I must set straight,
I am the success that I must create!!

How's that for no-pressure, no frills, spur-of-the-moment creativity!! I'll close the post with another awesome quote that I read somewhere, which is so relevant to what has just happened;

“Life, like a mirror, never gives back more than we put into it.”

Luv-n-Luck,
Av

I CAN!!

2008-04-23T11:50:00.008+05:30

Again, I'm posting after nearly a month. Wonder if there's some internal clock ticking somewhere within the structure of my life which triggers blog-worthy stuff at a regular time interval. :D
Before I come to the real intention of the post however, let me just mention that I'm completely high on Joe Satriani's latest album
"Professor Satchafunkilus and the Musterion of Rock".
Trust Satch to come up with a name like that, which is cool, wicked, funny and mysterious, all at once! And don't even get me started on the music! Not only is the tonality which he gets from those custom Ibanez guitars mouthwatering, but his incredible chops on the Axe leave others in the dust and reaffirm what has been known for long. Satch is the guitar.
Satch has recently also come out with a new distortion pedal. Check it out!

Now I surely don't promote piracy, but I couldn't find the album in stores in Pune, so I downloaded it. Hehe..
But PLEASE, go out and buy the album when you can if you like it. I am gonna!!

Now to turn toward the monthly-trigger of the internal clock, I read a poem this morning and its so inspirational, that I simply can't resist putting it up for anyone who cares to read it.

Equipment

Figure it out for yourself, my lad,
You’ve all that the greatest of men have had,
Two arms, two hands, two legs, two eyes,
And a brain to use if you would be wise.
With this equipment they all began
So start for the top and say “I can.”

Look them over, the wise and great,
They take their food from a common plate.
And similar knives and forks they use,
With similar laces they tie their shoes,
The world considers them brave and smart,
But you’ve all they had when they made their start.

You can triumph and come to skill,
You can be great if you only will,
You’re well equipped for what fight you choose,
You have arms and legs and a brain to use,
And the man who has risen, great deeds to do,
Began his life with no more than you.

You are the handicap you must face,
You are the one who must choose your place,
You must say where you want to go.
How much you will study the truth to know,
God had equipped you for life, but He
Lets you decide what you want to be.

Courage must come from the soul within,
The man must furnish the will to win.
So figure it out for yourself, my lad,
You were born with all that the great have had,
With your equipment they all began.
Get hold of yourself and say “I can.”

-Edgar A. Guest

May you derive the inspiration that pushes you to reach the next level in your life.
I know I've found mine.

Luv-n-luck,
Av

Dont know what to name this one...

2008-03-24T13:34:00.008+05:30

I have logged into my blog after over a month's time, after that last Valentine's Day Post, thanks to the loads of stuff I needed to finish at work. Infact I'm posting this at 3:45 AM from my office work-desk. :D
To follow up on the last post, I originally planned to write about another day that is celebrated on 14th of February. Its called the International Quirkyalone Day!!
You can find all that you need by following the link given below. Check it out!! http://quirkyalone.net/

And the reason I was going to write about it is because I thought that I fit pretty well in that quirkyalone description:
"A person who enjoys being single (but is not opposed to being in a relationship) and generally prefers to be alone rather than dating just for the sake of being in a couple."

I took the above to mean that a quirkyalone should not mind solitude, on both the short and long time scales, and I know myself to be of the off-beat kind who not only enjoy solitude, but even go looking for it.
(What a paradox.. looking for solitude. :D)
But the iconoclast that I am, I should have suspected the symptoms of getting so voluntarily classified into a category!! Hehe.. Because an experience I had on Sunday has changed it all. :D

You see, like a good teacher and friend, I left my guitar at one of my student's place on Friday evening, asking her to practice for the guitar class on Sunday, as we haven't been able to find a good guitar for her to buy yet. What I didn't realize is that for the next two nights, I would have to go to sleep without my customary 30 minute fretboard workout and the subsequent(addictive) pain in my hands..

And so it happened that I woke up on this Sunday morning with a weird feeling in my heart. I got through my morning chores feeling a bit low, and wondering why. Some unidentified gloom seemed to have settled on my existence even as I went about devouring a 250-page Ebook on my laptop. Apart from the insidious, under-the-surface sadness-like feeling, it had been a normal Sunday on every count. It was only hours later that I realized what it was. I was feeling the exact "withdrawal symptoms" generally associated with a break-up!! I was feeling all "bluesy" and sad inside, and I realized I was missing my guitar!!

Alexz Johnson crooned "I'm in love with my guitar!" to my brain as I struggled to look at the situation in the absolute perspective. It was seriously quite an effort to break out of the trance and reach a brain-space where I could shake my head and smile at my own predicament.

The little experience has stirred quite a few off-shoots of thought in my teeming brain. For starters, being fine without people around but missing a guitar can mean either of two things,

1) Finally, I am musically able enough to start taking repose within my own music and depend on it to take me away to somewhere I have never been before.

2) As expressed in a couple of posts earlier, I am so stone-hearted, practical-minded and selfish that all I need is a inanimate instrument rather than people to keep my sanity.

I know that second option is gonna raise a few hackles again, and more than one of my close friends shall surely threaten me with murder.. Hehe.. But then,

WHO CAN DECIDE WHAT THEY DREAM?
AND DREAM I DO...

Luv-n-Luck,
Av

CRUSH.. Part II

2008-02-13T19:19:00.012+05:30

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!!!!

After I went home last night, my thoughts were more or less fixated on
it being the Valentine Day's eve and I was thinking of all the Valentine Days
in the years gone by. Also (probably because I love to dwell on the "irony" aspect of things in general these days),I was thinking of how my ranting and raving in the last post has probably left me looking like a completely hopeless UN-romantic.
In the time-honored tradition of true-blue Geminis, I hate to be categorized into so extreme a sect, so just to mix up things a bit, and because today's the day of love,I decided to post a mushy little poem/song that I had composed a few years back. Although I'm sure she'll not read this, but if she does, a certain female friend of mine would smile to reminisce of a particular Valentine's Day, the singular high-point of which was she screaming
"I love you, Av!!", in public, at the top of her lungs, because she thought I'd written it for her.
(Which I'd not, just to set the record straight!)
Life's crazy sometimes.. But anyway, here goes!

Tonight

Tonight as I watch
The lights across the skies,
Feels like I'm gazing
Deep into your eyes..

Reminds me of the days
When my life was just as bright,
As my heart burning for you, tonight..

Tonight as i walk
Down the streets of my heart,
Feels like the place
Is falling apart..

It's paining since the day you went
And it puts me in a plight,
To feel my heart aching for you, tonight..

Tonight as i dream
Of you in my sleep
I know you will return
You have promises to keep

I'll take you in my arms
And hold you close and tight
As both our hearts melt into one, tonight..

Damn!! I wish I hadn't posted this. I could have actually used it with some good effect today!! Hehe..
But after all is said and done, more is actually said than done!! So I guess posting this has been a good choice after all.. :D

Luv-n-Luck,
Av

CRUSH.. Part I

2008-02-12T19:09:00.003+05:30

I suspect this is going to be the first post where I am gonna give away more than I would like to. Of course, poems offer a view into a person's inside like nothing else can, but thats not so obvious to most people. Anyway, here goes...

As one grows up, one's opinion of the world apparently grows less and less rosy, compared to the carefree thoughts of childhood. Ever since I can remember, I have been wondering about the beauty of the English language. However, it is hardly surprising that in recent times, I have been thinking more about the irony of it. Take the word CRUSH for instance; isn't it really ironic how it can mean two exactly opposite emotions? The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines crush as

Crush [1,Verb]: to suppress or overwhelm as if by pressure or weight
Crush [2,Noun]: an intense and usually passing infatuation

Now to me, its really interesting how the failure of Crush(2) can sometimes lead to an experience of Crush(1) on one's heart!! What is really ironic to me is that I have not experienced EITHER of the two crushes. Never in my life ( and I am REALLY thankful for this part) have I experienced an intense instantaneous sadness that has been heavy enough to crush my heart. Also, never in my life ( this part, I'm not that thankful about.. :D) have I felt the sudden and sometimes momentary rush of feelings for a single special person that is generally associated with Crush(2).

This can mean two things.
1) I have been really fortunate to not experience any major tragedies, and I have been a bit unfortunate on the count that I have not yet run into anyone who really rubs me the right way cause she kind of fits my idea of a crush instantly.

2) I am too practical-headed and stone-hearted, too disconnected and aloof, to experience any emotion in an extreme state.

Both these possibilities shall probably be pondered upon aloud in the subsequent posts, but I'd like to close this one with a interesting observation..

"DONT TRUST REALITY; AFTER ALL, ITS ONLY A COLLECTIVE HUNCH.."

Luv-n-Luck,
Av

Dedication..

2008-02-11T14:15:00.002+05:30

Today's post shall be blank, as an expression of respect towards
Gaana Saraswati Smt. Kishori Amonkar. It is also an expression of disgust at and protest against the humiliation that she had to bear at the Vasantotsav last night.
I am near-certain that this post would not reach her, but I do not know another better way of telling her that I cried my heart out for twenty minutes after reaching home last night and that I found myself absolutely incapable of ingesting anything that could remotely be called my dinner. This is my way of observing "two minutes of silence" in cyberspace.

Explanations in the next post. (Optional.)

Av

Strange flavour to this one...

2007-12-12T14:42:00.002+05:30

The poem in this post is one of the earliest poems I've written, that you can categorize under "poems" at all... Hehehe.. I wrote it while sitting in the back of a sanskrit class in my class 12... The poem follows the thought that "a terrorist doesn't necessarily take up terrorism as a career" and is sometimes pushed into it due to various reasons. Since I had just begun to write poems, the flow and the meter of the poem is a bit stiff. Try not to take my case over it. Hehehe...

After all these years though, I have no recollection of why I chose to write a poem about a gun. The AK-47, as we know, was invented in 1947 by a man called Mikhail Kalashnikov, and hence it is sometimes referred to as

THE KALASHNIKOV

Born In The Vale Of Heaven On The Earth
Youngest In My Family, Dearest Since Birth
Born In The Refugee Camp, Hidden Even From The Sun
Unknowingly Hearing The Kalashnikov, The Life-Saving Gun.

I Grew Up Under The Flying Bullets, Zooming Right Above My Head
I Didn’t Know Why It Was Then, But The Ground Was Wet And Red
One Day All My Toys Shattered, And I Was Made To Run
Away From The Kalashnikov, The Life-Threatening Gun.

When I Was Ten, My Father Was Shot Right Before My Eyes
I Saw Death Face-To-Face; I Saw How A Human Dies
And Then I Knew, The Sounds Which I, Till Now Had Thought Were Fun,
Came From The Kalashnikov, The Life-Ending Gun.

At Fourteen, I Saw My Brothers Die, Shot At Just Like Dad
And Then I Saw The Killers, A Sight Which Drove Me Mad
Determined To Take Revenge, All Caution Did I Abandon
And Picked Up The Kalashnikov, My Life-Taking Gun.

Its finally a welcome change to post something that pertains to an emotion other than love, but I dont know if the poem really addresses other emotions in a way which really conveys them. Tell me what you think.

Love-n-Luck,
Av

Third Bottle of Wine..

2007-12-10T14:12:00.003+05:30

Like my friends know very well, I am a true Gemini, a man of extremes.. Hence, after that blatant mushiness in the last post, comes another dose of anguish, called..

ALONE

With you i share my joys
And sadness i bear alone
Cause you can’t feel my heart
Beneath my flesh and bone..

You say we have been friends
Right from the start
Then why can’t you feel
The ache inside my heart?

You never tried to explore
The side of me you’ve never seen
You never ever gave a thought
To the friends we could have been..

You never thought about me as
A person on the whole
Then how could you have ever felt
The void inside my soul?

I’ve reached a point in my life
Where i can clearly see
The one thing you could never do
Was to believe in me..

Now i talk to myself
Cause it makes me believe
That i’ve got atleast one friend
Who would never leave..

You left me alone
Every time my heart was blue..

You left me alone
Every time i needed you..

You left me alone
Crying in the rain..

You left me alone
In my hours of pain..

You left me alone..

This is another song that I'd written at a time when I couldn't play it. Not even the verse chords I mean, leave along the heavy power-chords in the chorus. All the same, its a testimonial that music composition and technique with an instrument are more or less independant entities, both ways.

Post your thoughts!

Luv-n-Luck
Av

Second bottle of wine... :D

2007-12-06T14:27:00.001+05:30

Here is the next installment of the old wine.. :D
Since the last one was a "break-up-ish" song, I decided to post something a bit mushy this time.. so here goes..

YOU AND YOUR EYES

When i am feeling alone and i can’t find my way,
When i’m feeling like it just isn’t my day,
When the storms in my heart just won’t abate,
When tomorrow seems to come twenty minutes late,

When i’m feeling deserted, i’m feeling left out,
When faith seems to have given way to doubt,
When i’m feeling too down to keep up the pace,
To you and your eyes, i turn for solace.

You bring me joy, and take away my pain
You make me feel complete yet once again.
There’s nothing else that brings me such peace,
As gazing into your eyes, as deep as the seas.

When over the edge of sanity i bend,
My head speaks a language i cant comprehend,
When i can see the sky but can't feel the ground,
When the world seems to spin the other way round,

When everything is wrong and nothing seems right,
When i have half a mind to give up the fight,
When everyone seems like death in disguise,
I turn for comfort to you and your eyes.

You bring me warmth, you keep me alive,
You give me faith to fight and survive,
Gazing into them fills my heart with love,
You eyes, as eternal as the endless skies above…

Like always, I'm eager to hear of the first thoughts that the verses above stir up in your minds..

Luvn-Luck,
Av

Old wine in a new bottle!!!

2007-12-03T14:01:00.002+05:30

This time that I'd gone home, my mom put me through the torture of actually digging up and re-arranging my old cupboard... which actually proved to be a blessing in disguise, because I unearthed quite a few of my earthly posessions that I'd forgotten about.. One object among them being an old diary full of completed and incomplete poems. Over the next few days I'll be posting stuff from that diary, which contains quite a few old memories and sentiments. Whats interesting is how I can relate quite a few of them to the now completely changed circumstances of my life...
This is a song I wrote quite a few years ago. Infact even after I had composed it, I still couldnt play it myself on the guitar.. hehe.. so here goes..

HOLLOW

I Was Used To Walking Alone
And I Was Used To Being On My Own
But That Was Before The Day I Met You

I Was Used To Walking In The Rain
And I Was Used To Ignoring The Pain
But That Was Before I Felt Your Love So True

And Now You’ve Gone
And Left Me Where I Began
And I Can’t Live Away From You,

Cause Now I’m Alone
Trying To Do What I Can
To Save My World From Going Blue,

I Try To Break Free,
But I Can Clearly See,
Baby You Took Away My Soul With You...
Baby You Took Away My Soul With You...

I Was Used To Holding Your Hand
And I Thought I Could Understand
Every Little Thing Deep Inside Of You

I’d Seen Loneliness Up Close
Thought I Understood The Way Time Flows
Never Thought I’d Go Back To Being Lonely Too

But Now You’re Gone
And At Crossroads Is Where I Am
Trying To Find A Road To Somewhere New

But How Can I Walk
Even A Step Without Your Hand
When All My Roads Lead To You?

I Try To Break Away
But This Is All I Have To Say
Baby You Took Away My Soul With You…
Baby You Took Away My Soul With You…

In the face of my better abilities on the guitar now, lets see if I can perform this and put up a video or something.. Tell me what you think of it, though.

Luv-n-Luck,
Av

The blog is alive!!!!

2007-10-03T12:43:00.003+05:30

I AM BACK!!

After about a bazillion days since I wrote my last post, my meandering mind has generated some stuff with enough words within itself that rhyme amongst themselves, for me to call it a poem!! I’m sure that it will mean very different things to different people.. I’d love to hear about what it means to you.. So get back to me, folks!! Here goes..

ONE

Seek me in the young son clutching his mother’s hand
Seek me in the brave soldier dying for his motherland

Find me in the absolute freedom of an eagle’s flight
Find me in the enslaved fear of a tyrant’s evil might

Seek me in the bejeweled crown on an emperor’s head
Seek me in the torn fabric of a pauper’s makeshift bed

Find me in the momentary gratification of a sexual sin
Find me in the hollow left when something dies within

Seek me in the brutality of a murderer ending a life
Seek me in the benevolent cruelty of a surgeon’s knife

Find me in the stark reality of a dying man’s last sigh
Find me in the common miracle of a newborn’s first cry

Seek me in life and in death and everything in between
Seek me in all that you can see and all that is unseen

Seek me at last within yourself and then shall you see
Find that I am one with you and you are one with me..

This is probably the first poem I’ve written that I’m not entirely sure what it is about. But rather than admitting that I’m too dumb to understand what I write, I’d prefer to say that the poem has “emerged from my subconscious and my conscious is not immediately perceptive to the voice of my sub-conscious!!"
Hehehe… do I sound high-nosed enough??
Also, while composing this one, I have affirmed an interesting comparision I have believed in for quite some time now.Expect to hear about it soon!! But let me know what you think of this one first..

Luv-n-Luck
Av

Love: Deconstructed!

2007-03-23T14:24:00.003+05:30

First (and definitely the most), i would like to appreciate the time and effort everyone has put in and posted the comments.. and yes, i have to agree with what Sankalpa said (although i too didnt get in one reading what he meant to say in his post!) I do rather love to hear what thoughts my thoughts provoke into people's brains. People who have no clue of what i'm saying are requested to read the comments.

But i'm posting something that serves to justify Sankalpa's point and illustrate how your thoughts can provoke new thoughts in my brain too! Its a poem i finished today morning. I was thinking along these lines since coupla days, but Sankalpa's descriptions of the "sexy girl" sure took my thoughts in a new direction! I was thinking of making this into a song and had taken up my guitar too, but it seemed the "poem-ish" types! So here it is!

Since it was just a few hours back that i've finished this, i dont have a title for it yet. Suggestions for titles are encouraged in your replies, folks! Even if they are longer than

"Walking on the fine line between love and crushes!"

I cant deny i love her smile
But would that change after a while?
And i long for her every touch
Tomorrow would i feel just as much?

And every time i see her face
It takes me to that special place
But would i stay there all my life?
Would i want her to be my wife?

There is no doubt, i find her cute
But i'm not sure that wont transmute
And she's hot, that i'll concede
But is she all that i'll ever need?

Just thinking of this femme petite
Makes my heart always skip a beat
Would this feeling last all my life?
Would i want her to be my wife?

At the crossroads of love and life
I'm face to face with this odd choice
Yet after all this joy and strife
I just can't seem to find my voice..

How can i say that this emotion
Is nothing else but love for sure
For i am not certain if my notion
Can live up to the word's grandeur..

When i'm not sure of what i feel
A name for it then how do i find?
With matters of heart how do i deal
With arguments born inside my mind?

I guess the poem says it all and so I have nothing more to say about it except that this is one of my EXTREMELY rare, open ended poems, in the sense that I have not drawn it to any conclusions. Tell me what you think of this.

On another note, my fortunate friends who attended the IRON MAIDEN concert have told me that it was fabulous, and BRUCE DICKINSON said that they'l be back soon, and if it gets really awesome, the'd be having an annual EDDFEST in India every year!!!
\m/ hell yeah!!!

Av

Life's measurands..

2007-03-22T14:18:00.002+05:30

Coming back to the earlier thread of thought, whats really important in life is perfectly illustrated by this poem, which is one of my favourite short poems..

WHEN first my way to fair I took
Few pence in purse had I;
And long I used to stand and look
At things I could not buy.

Now times are altered: if I care
To buy a thing, I can;
The pence are here and there's the fair,
But where's the lost young man?

To think that two and two are four
And neither five nor three;
The heart of man has long been sore
And long 'tis like to be.

A.E. Housman

reminds me of a hindi couplet..

"chaahe jitne ikatthe kar lo
sona, chandi, heere, moti
yaad rakhna aye yaar mere bas
kafan ko koi jeb nahi hoti.."

The little verse aptly ilustrates the point that materialistic achievements are only short-lived.

Measure your life, with not the number of breaths you take, but with the number of moments that take your breath away!
Measure your life, with not the dreams that you see when you are asleep, but with the number of dreams that don't let you sleep until they are achieved!
Measure your life, with not the number of times you stumbled and fell, but the number of times you got up and fought your way to victory!

Drawing from yesterday's post, when one thinks on these lines:
Is it WRONG to choose any of the three lives?
Or is it wrong to CHOOSE any of the three lives?

Av

WEEKEND getaway!

2007-03-21T16:06:00.001+05:30

I forgot to mention that on Sunday, me and 11 other colleagues of mine had gone for a ride to and trek up sinhagadh. As you can see in the pics, we had a helluva fun!!

dont even ask me what i'm doing in the last one!!

Life: deconstructed..

2007-03-21T14:18:00.003+05:30

Continuing with my reflections on life..

Like i mentioned in my last blog, Einstein said you can live your life in two ways.. I say you can live it in three..
When all is said and done, you can look back on your life and you realize you have lived either of these three..

1) A life of SURVIVAL
You are born, you live because you are alive, you wander about aimlessly, direction-less.. Like the scent of a flower wafting on the breeze.. Only in this case there is not beauty involved.. You are passive existence personified. There's hardly more to this life than not dying.. And then someday you die..
The general person comes under this one.

2) A life of SUCCESS
You are born, you live because you have a mission. And that mission is to climb as high, walk as far and fast and to be the best that you can possibly be. Every waking moment of your life, you are thinking about your agenda, only your agenda generally contains only one word, "ME". People generally would remember you with anecdotes of success.. (and sometimes bottled feelings of hate and resentment). Personal success is all that there is to this life.. And then someday you die..
Most celebrities and successful industrialists come in this category.

3) A life of SIGNIFICANCE
You are born, and you live because you only feel truly alive when you are helping others lead a better life. You sacrifice personal progress for the cause of a greater common good. Inside your heart and mind, you believe that the progress of people around you is a direct indication of your progress. Your agenda is to make a difference, however small, to the world, so that people remember you with gratitude. You live for the betterment of others and it is through their happiness that you experience contentment and happiness filling your life. And then someday you die..
Men generally accepted to be "great human-beings" fall in this category.

We have all undoubtedly known people from all three categories. Some we feel proud of, some we feel jealous of, and yet others we feel a pity towards. We ourselves seems to live all three ways though out daily lives. And we all know that just trying for one of the three is sometimes not the only way to ensure we can actually live that life.

Which one do you choose?? Do you choose passivity because you have to die someday anyway? Do you choose to make the best of your life just because of the fact that you have so little time here? Or do you rather sacrifice immediate pleasures for a stake at immortality?

or is it that an unknown entity called "fate" decides and its not your choice at all what your life is??

Av

Beyond the materialistic..

2007-03-17T13:01:00.001+05:30

"THE MOST IMPORTANT THINGS IN LIFE ARE NOT THINGS.."

that is what a t-shirt of one of my most enthusiastic colleagues at the department says. The simple piece of clothing speaks more than a quite a few books on philosophy and life put together.. :D

It reminds us of what is really important in life, and how we give importance to whats really trifle.. Reminds me of one of my favourite quotes by Albert Einstein:

"There are two ways to live your life, one is to live as if nothing is a miracle and the other is to live as if everything is.."

Another little anecdote comes to mind :

A group of students were asked to list what they thought were the present "Seven Wonders of the World." Though there were some disagreements, the following received the most votes:

1. Egypt's Great Pyramids
2. Taj Mahal
3. Grand Canyon
4. Panama Canal
5. Empire State Building
6. St. Peter's Basilica
7. China's Great Wall

While gathering the votes, the teacher noted that one student had not finished her paper yet. So she asked the girl if she was having trouble with her list. The girl replied, "Yes, a little. I couldn't quite make up my mind because there were so many." The teacher said, "Well, tell us what you have, and maybe we can help".
The girl hesitated, then read: "I think the 'Seven Wonders of the World' are:

1. To See
2. To Hear
3. To Touch
4. To Taste
5. To Feel
6. To Laugh
7. To Love
The room was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop.

The little story aptly illustrates what we forget to remember through our lives.. :D
There is much more to life then not dying, and its emotions and feelings are what keep us separate from the lower life forms. I believe its most vital for us to keep this gap!!
" The most precious things in life don't have price-tags"

Av

The Gods are here!!

2007-03-16T10:29:00.001+05:30

D-day Dawns!!
\m/
Iron Maiden, the gods of metal are finally in India and slated to perform at Palace Grounds, B'lore tomorrow.. and from what i hear, they've brought more than just a plane-ful of their gear along! people said that the costs involved were so high, we'd have cactuses in our homes for Christmas trees before Maiden would ever perform in India.. the paramedics are gonna have to come in to get those people's foot out of their mouths now.. cause guess what, IRON MAIDEN ARE HERE and they are gonna BURN THE FRIGGIN' STAGE DOWN tomo night!!

on a slightly more sedate note, there's two things i'm not happy about..

1) Being the good student i am supposed to be, i have to stay back in Pune and give a project presentation that is so vital, I'll fail my post-grad if i don't give it.. other than that there was nothing that could possibly stop from going to B'lore to watch the Gods in flesh!!

2) one of the band from INDIA thats gonna open for Iron Maiden is called FtN. the band is from Delhi and they won the Campus Rock Idols '07. i'd been to the finals, cause they were held at Elysium, Pune and i've listened to them play live. i have to admit they are decently tight (and i've been listening to an mp3 copy of Provoke Me for the last three days continuosly.. hehe). i mean if they won the CRI07 they gotta be good, right? and they are!

but then again.. they are a nu-metal band. oooooohhh! that changes the equation terribly doesnt it? they played KORN and Rage Against The Machine Covers at the CRI..
then again, look at the other opening acts..

a) laureen harris, the daughter of steve harris, the bassist of Maiden ( and i have NO idea what kinda music she's into, but then hey, look at the lineage!)

b) parikrama - no comments, except " is this some kinda joke??"

is an amateur nu-metal college band with just two original compositions, and a rock and roll band, all that India has to offer to the absolute GODS of HEAVY METAL?

ps:
poster of the concert
http://bp1.blogger.com/_eP3Fy6YdM2o/RdjZUwW43oI/AAAAAAAAADI/9VyPaNSN7_g/s1600-h/india_poster.jpg

A journey of a thousand miles.... begins with a deep breath!!

2007-03-14T14:33:00.002+05:30

This is the inaugural post of my blog, and what better way to start off other than with a poem i wrote last night at 3 A.M... here goes..

Kaleidoscope of Pain

I look through my inward eye again
To explore deep within me;
Peer through the kaleidoscope of pain
And decipher what i see..

With every nudge that life does give
The colours rearrange;
The emotions and thoughts i feel and live
Take forms new and strange..

Sometimes i feel that pain and pleasure
Are illusions, and no more;
That guard the elusive priceless treasure
Locked behind perception's door..

Pain proves itself a beautiful thing
That reveals a new paradigm;
The notes of sadness frequently ring
Across the melody of time..

Pleasure, although feels good to feel
Is poison to the mind;
Shrouding our eyes from what is real
Till perception goes blind..

Its sadness that lends us its wings
To rise above the mundane;
To us what glimpses of truth brings
Is the kaleidoscope of pain..

Yet withing this constant change somewhere
Myself i try to find;
I essay to seek the truth, and dare
To break the bonds that bind..

My inwards quest for truth shall sustain
Till i can open my eyes;
And not need any kaleidoscope to gain
My first glimpses of Paradise..

Av