After almost 10 years, I watched a cricket match from start to end, and I must say it was worth it. India won the world cup! I was literally jumping around in my room , and could hear "Jai Ho!" and the sorts from every window around. This means, I could tell my daughter when she grows up - "We won the world cup!". I used to feel envious of the generation before me, who used to boast about the good olden days of Kapil Dev, when India won the world cup. Not anymore.
I don't know why I got so carried away, but it was truly an emotional moment. This also set me thinking in a freakonomics way -- Will this explode the market for cricket consumables and "Dhoni" wannabes ? or has it already? It is said that the cosmetics industry boomed in India after Aiswarya became the miss of the world and Susmita became the miss of the universe. :-) This also means that kids now get to say something like "I want to be a cricketer". Ouch!
---- This post has remained in the Draft Mode for quite some time and must be published!
Although I intended to add "Turning 30" to this post, I forgot what I wanted to blog about. So, I publish the draft as-is :)
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Friday, April 08, 2011
My music. My curse.
Is it that I really like music or just that I am much more afraid of silence?
Do I really want to stay immersed in this unfulfilled threat of violence?
Every song I know has something that irks me in at least one minor way.
Maybe its my pursuit to find the perfect song that has kept my real world at bay.
Each time I come across something fresh and something new,
I abuse it relentlessly until I hate it too.
Looping tracks over time, I keep my earphones plugged in right.
Songs during daytime to drown my co-workers and songs to drown my thoughts at night.
Here take this phrase and twist it into rhyme.
Fit it to this situation as you do time.
Lamest bands with the most clichéd of lines.
I contort my brain for some connected vibes.
Still I post lyrics, videos and critiques
On social networks, quite anti-socially.
Hoping someone, sometime, shares mutual experiences
The only manner with which to bridge these distances.
Do I really want to stay immersed in this unfulfilled threat of violence?
Every song I know has something that irks me in at least one minor way.
Maybe its my pursuit to find the perfect song that has kept my real world at bay.
Each time I come across something fresh and something new,
I abuse it relentlessly until I hate it too.
Looping tracks over time, I keep my earphones plugged in right.
Songs during daytime to drown my co-workers and songs to drown my thoughts at night.
Here take this phrase and twist it into rhyme.
Fit it to this situation as you do time.
Lamest bands with the most clichéd of lines.
I contort my brain for some connected vibes.
Still I post lyrics, videos and critiques
On social networks, quite anti-socially.
Hoping someone, sometime, shares mutual experiences
The only manner with which to bridge these distances.
Saturday, April 02, 2011
Kryptonite for every superman
Wakes up at 6:30 and hops on to the treadmill.
The figurative kind. Imagine it, if you will.
Sleepwalking through the ablutions, until
Scalding jets from a shower head shrill.
Wakes you up for good. At least for now.
You pour a bowl of cereal, with milk in tow.
Distracted, unable to straighten your brow.
Time to commute and make it somehow.
Some days there's conversation on the way,
on others, just silence and mutual dismay.
On the automaton lives we live in this day.
Herded through paths without a say.
Yet in horizon, shining bright.
Like the only moon on a cloudy night.
You rise towards its dizzying height.
You embrace it even if its your kryptonite.
- Was sitting idle on my draft section for a long time. Finishing it felt necessary, though not satisfactory. Parts of it are fabrications. Most of it is untrue. But then you always knew that, didn't you.
The figurative kind. Imagine it, if you will.
Sleepwalking through the ablutions, until
Scalding jets from a shower head shrill.
Wakes you up for good. At least for now.
You pour a bowl of cereal, with milk in tow.
Distracted, unable to straighten your brow.
Time to commute and make it somehow.
Some days there's conversation on the way,
on others, just silence and mutual dismay.
On the automaton lives we live in this day.
Herded through paths without a say.
Yet in horizon, shining bright.
Like the only moon on a cloudy night.
You rise towards its dizzying height.
You embrace it even if its your kryptonite.
- Was sitting idle on my draft section for a long time. Finishing it felt necessary, though not satisfactory. Parts of it are fabrications. Most of it is untrue. But then you always knew that, didn't you.
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