The best soundtracks i can think of , are credited to James Horner!
Brave Heart, Titanic, Apollo 13, The Mask of Zorro, The Legend of Zorro* , Jumaji, Aliens, Iris , Jade, Casper, I love you to death (and i .. will always love you...), Commando, Star Trek - II
Check out the complete list here
<< Who did Terminator 2 ? >>
Saturday, October 22, 2005
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Religion
NOTA BENE: If you are reading this, read it to the end. A little knowledge is dangerous :-) I am deeply indebted to Harish for his thoughtful insights, guidance and source material in my quest.
Ram once remarked , "Hinduism is a free religions. There are no obligatory rituals. Infact, its a generic code of life. Islam and Christianity on the other hand give importance on umpteen rituals, the church/mosque and the priests.. why so ?"
A few days back, I was back in office after Iftar (break-fast ?;-)) and browsing without any directions, what so ever. I happened to visit a site called www.free-minds.org. The article I read was Theft . Its about the so called punishment of 'chop his hands, if he is a thief'. In 15 minutes flat, I realized , the horror of Interpretation. Whilst the Quran means 'Cut his resources, and make him work to repay the stolen property', todays Islamic governments blindly follow 'Chop his hands!'. A little more research and I found out that most of the rituals followed today are baseless and never mentioned in the Code Book of Islam!..
1) Prayer, its format, its timings .. (5 times ? Arabic - NO!!)
2) Punishment for theft (cut his hand ? - NO!!)
3) Punishment for adultery (stone to death - blasphemous!!)
4) Dress code (black veil ? - Never .. )
and many more ... What i realized was that every little thing which had poked my consciousness when i did them was a man made rule .
How did these rules come into existence ? By a clever technique called Hadith or Sunna, which is supposedly the life of the prophet. Start reading any hadith .. anyone would be immediately filled with doubt .. (Mr X friend of Y, the follower of Z, heard from Mr A, that he saw Mr B telling to Mr C, that Mr C saw the prophet ...) See the lineage ?! This is because such rules never existed during the time of the prophet and was thought up the Religious leaders almost 7 generations after his death ! What a mind job ?! People follow it blindly today without any questions ....
Any story of unbelievable acts / magic / warewolves ... or special effects are human additions, be it to the Quran/Hadith , the Bible or the Bhagavad Gita ...
Then I came to know about something , which struck me like thunder. It is widely believed that there is only one version of Quran and that God himself has vowed to protect it. Are there actually two versions - Hafz and Warsh ? with minor changes in letters ,words .. There are also other versions like Tashkant Quran.
The Bottom line is .. there are different versions of all religious books, they are only aimed at making the world a better place, but making people do the right thing. ie as long as you dont cause any hardships to your fellow beings and live in harmony with nature! The rest is Man created propaganda about GOD , Heaven , hell and all.
Heaven is a concept which i was very confused about from the very beginning. If i have everything i want, would i be happy ? How do we define happiness without sorrow ? Quote from MATRIX
AGENT SMITH
Did you know that the first Matrix was designed to be a perfect human world? Where none suffered, where everyone would be happy. It was a disaster. No one would accept the program. Entire crops were lost.
If you argue that my state of being in heaven would be quite different from what i am now, how do i then relate my present being to that state ? I mean how would i remember or recognize my previous state in this worldly world ? Interesting , Quantum Physics seems to have a much better definition of heaven. I have mentioned this at the end of this blog.
I think that Islam and Christianity have been affected by a common plague - The glorification of their messengers (jesus/mohammed) and power of attorney for the church/mosque/priests! Just like what the protagonist in STIGMATA writes on the wall in hebrew , and further speaks out when possessed.
Frankie [in the Italian voice of Paolo Alameida, a dead priest]: The messenger is not important.
This message has been repeated over the ages ! The messenger is not important , the message is !! Religions are , but for peaceful coexistance . Its not for glorification of messengers, priests, rituals or god himself!
One dialogue from the Matrix makes most sense -
MORPHEUS:
You have to understand that most of these people are not ready to be unplugged and many of them are so inured, so hopelessly dependent on the system that they will fight to protect it.
And I have experienced this personally. Any questions on rituals ... they debate for some time saying Quran is a book of signs and need further human explanation !
While Quran says its complete, clear and simple !
and then they give up, saying .. "I am not the all knowing, i follow what my forefathers did!", Which exactly is rebuked by the Quran -
And if they are told to follow what God has granted, they say ‘nonetheless we follow what we found our forefathers on’ What if their forefathers do not understand a thing and are not guided (2:170)
They are so hopelessly dependant on the system that they will fight to protect it!
Ram once remarked , "Hinduism is a free religions. There are no obligatory rituals. Infact, its a generic code of life. Islam and Christianity on the other hand give importance on umpteen rituals, the church/mosque and the priests.. why so ?"
A few days back, I was back in office after Iftar (break-fast ?;-)) and browsing without any directions, what so ever. I happened to visit a site called www.free-minds.org. The article I read was Theft . Its about the so called punishment of 'chop his hands, if he is a thief'. In 15 minutes flat, I realized , the horror of Interpretation. Whilst the Quran means 'Cut his resources, and make him work to repay the stolen property', todays Islamic governments blindly follow 'Chop his hands!'. A little more research and I found out that most of the rituals followed today are baseless and never mentioned in the Code Book of Islam!..
1) Prayer, its format, its timings .. (5 times ? Arabic - NO!!)
2) Punishment for theft (cut his hand ? - NO!!)
3) Punishment for adultery (stone to death - blasphemous!!)
4) Dress code (black veil ? - Never .. )
and many more ... What i realized was that every little thing which had poked my consciousness when i did them was a man made rule .
How did these rules come into existence ? By a clever technique called Hadith or Sunna, which is supposedly the life of the prophet. Start reading any hadith .. anyone would be immediately filled with doubt .. (Mr X friend of Y, the follower of Z, heard from Mr A, that he saw Mr B telling to Mr C, that Mr C saw the prophet ...) See the lineage ?! This is because such rules never existed during the time of the prophet and was thought up the Religious leaders almost 7 generations after his death ! What a mind job ?! People follow it blindly today without any questions ....
Any story of unbelievable acts / magic / warewolves ... or special effects are human additions, be it to the Quran/Hadith , the Bible or the Bhagavad Gita ...
Then I came to know about something , which struck me like thunder. It is widely believed that there is only one version of Quran and that God himself has vowed to protect it. Are there actually two versions - Hafz and Warsh ? with minor changes in letters ,words .. There are also other versions like Tashkant Quran.
The Bottom line is .. there are different versions of all religious books, they are only aimed at making the world a better place, but making people do the right thing. ie as long as you dont cause any hardships to your fellow beings and live in harmony with nature! The rest is Man created propaganda about GOD , Heaven , hell and all.
Heaven is a concept which i was very confused about from the very beginning. If i have everything i want, would i be happy ? How do we define happiness without sorrow ? Quote from MATRIX
AGENT SMITH
Did you know that the first Matrix was designed to be a perfect human world? Where none suffered, where everyone would be happy. It was a disaster. No one would accept the program. Entire crops were lost.
If you argue that my state of being in heaven would be quite different from what i am now, how do i then relate my present being to that state ? I mean how would i remember or recognize my previous state in this worldly world ? Interesting , Quantum Physics seems to have a much better definition of heaven. I have mentioned this at the end of this blog.
I think that Islam and Christianity have been affected by a common plague - The glorification of their messengers (jesus/mohammed) and power of attorney for the church/mosque/priests! Just like what the protagonist in STIGMATA writes on the wall in hebrew , and further speaks out when possessed.
Frankie [in the Italian voice of Paolo Alameida, a dead priest]: The messenger is not important.
This message has been repeated over the ages ! The messenger is not important , the message is !! Religions are , but for peaceful coexistance . Its not for glorification of messengers, priests, rituals or god himself!
One dialogue from the Matrix makes most sense -
MORPHEUS:
You have to understand that most of these people are not ready to be unplugged and many of them are so inured, so hopelessly dependent on the system that they will fight to protect it.
And I have experienced this personally. Any questions on rituals ... they debate for some time saying Quran is a book of signs and need further human explanation !
While Quran says its complete, clear and simple !
and then they give up, saying .. "I am not the all knowing, i follow what my forefathers did!", Which exactly is rebuked by the Quran -
And if they are told to follow what God has granted, they say ‘nonetheless we follow what we found our forefathers on’ What if their forefathers do not understand a thing and are not guided (2:170)
They are so hopelessly dependant on the system that they will fight to protect it!
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Blast from the past
This below is heavenly!!! Neo at his fertile best. For non CET folks, Soorji (affectionately known as Garbhu) was my roommate in first year and the sole reason for the coining of the masculine gender of 'garbhini'.
Read on...
Copyright Neo Films 2003
Note: The Reader may search and Replace all occurences of 'Bala'
with 'Ram' according to his convenience.
Bala Couldnt Sleep
``````````````````
Couldn't Sleep... What the heck ? you would say .. thats a problem everyone has these days. The only difference would be the reason. And thats what this is about ...
After 3 hours of non-stop grilling session with Electrical Machine Design , and Metallica ringing in his ears , a tired peed Bala went to the T.V Room in the middle of the night. It was all eerie with spiders and stuff to his company. Soorji was snoring loud at one of the corners. Bala was a little surprised at the emptiness of the room. It was only 2.30 and everyone was sleeping. (Its said that MH never sleeps). Bala had been waiting for this one moment the whole of his lifetime ... he had spent at MH. He looked at the tool of his desire ... The long... black .. beauty lying just beside Soorji .... With one swift leap , he took it in his hands....
The REMOTE. The yellow glow from the ring on the Ftv model's titties glew in his eyes. " Now I am the king! The TV's mine! ", he must have said . From there, the story was similar to what a 16 year old would have done during his first night. Bala scurried (is that a right term?) through the entire frequency range searching for the show of his desire ... and Finally he got it Mtv-ICON-Metallica ON STAGE-whatever. 15 minutes passed and then suddenly... (SCROLL DOWN)
There was a loud Crack and Boom...
The TV Went off ...
It was as if a meteor had landed. It was all dark ...
In a split second,Bala was out of the room and ran to the middle of now where... That was a foolish decision, because he thought he had made a 180 degree turn, whereas infact he had only made a 90 degree turn...and he rushed into one of the prohibited toilets.... P-L-A-C-H-K-U ... that was exactly the sound ...he was splattered flat on the wall of the toilet, his leg in the little watery toilet with some dry shit and his leg twisted. It took him a whole 30 minutes to recover and our dear hero found his way through the dark to the Cooler, only to find that it was empty. He had to do with some paper and the three drops that trickled every 7 seconds. At that very moment ... Bala's brain began to work .. and he thought ... "What had happened in there?" . Soorji.......?! "
The warrior instincts in Bala awoke and he darted to the TV Room. Midway, the only foolishness he did was to get strangled by the Asianet Cable. He peeped into the dark TV Room.
" Su.. su.. su.. Soorji ..."
A loud grumbling was the response.
He could also hear the whirring of the fan. The power is back, Bala's detective instincts told him.
Bala stepped inside the TV Room, and let his hands find the Switch on the wall. He found the switch alright and turned it on.
The sound was...
" Pzzzzzzzz.. zzwip "
Three of Bala's nostril's hairs burned. (A Small short circuit effect on the Experienced-High-Voltage-Electrical-Engineer). That was all that happened. No lights.. But by now, Bala's eyes had accustomed to the moon light in the room.
And then he saw it .... THE HORROR ... THE HORROR ....
There was more moon light in the room , than there had been before. And there was a strong-disgusting smell of urine. (Though this was usual in the TV room, as the urinal was very close to it and shared a common air duct).
And then he saw in awe and respect... A whole circular piece about the size of table, of concrete Roof had fallen!!! This moment was heavenly .. The moon smiled through the new found hole in the roof and seemed to say .. "It was not me .. Bad Contractors.. "
Slowly .. in bullet time , Bala's opened mouthed face looked where the piece had fallen...
"bluhu hoo " --- Bala cried like a little baby.
It was right on Soorji's tummy. (That explained the extra smell of urine in the room). And there Soorji was .. still snoring his way to the 7th stage of sleep.
For a moment, Bala didnt know what to do. Then deciding that it was his duty to help his friend from such distress, he decided to help...
But How...Poor Soorji was sleeping , and did he know that 5 kilos of concrete roof was lying on his tummy?.. Maybe he did have some wierd dream of being crushed by an elephant... But he was still asleep.
Bala's neo-cortex came up with a plan. He used his talent in tickling Soorji to the right position, (whence he discovered where the source of the loud grumbling he had heard before), so that he could knudge the concrete piece .
By 4 am, he was all done...
Though nothing happened to Soorji (infact he didnt even know), Bala was really affected/effected by the incident.
Bala Couldnt Sleep anymore.
The moment he closed his eyes... All sorts of wierd images would creep up.
They were specifically.... things that could fall on him, while he was asleep.
Concrete Roof .. ? Fan ..? Bulb ? Tube Light.
As a remedy , He decided to sleep in open space. When a dog peed on him, he decided to conquer his fear of heights and sleep on the terrace.
But that only made things worse...
He found new things to worry about.
(THE AIRPORT WAS NEAR)
(THE MILITARY FLY BASE WAS NEAR).
Airplanes .. Jets... Tired Flying Birds.. Unconscious Flying Birds ...Clouds , Moon .. Stars .. Comets ....
He couldnt find a place ... where nothing would fall on him.
He even thought of sleeping under water (in our famous tank) with a pipe to breath...
But after a few minutes , he would surface ...
So thats why Bala Couldnt/Cant Sleep.
If anybody has a solution please contact him.
C 219
Bala
Men's Hostel
CET.
Copyright Neo Films 2003
Read on...
Copyright Neo Films 2003
Note: The Reader may search and Replace all occurences of 'Bala'
with 'Ram' according to his convenience.
Bala Couldnt Sleep
``````````````````
Couldn't Sleep... What the heck ? you would say .. thats a problem everyone has these days. The only difference would be the reason. And thats what this is about ...
After 3 hours of non-stop grilling session with Electrical Machine Design , and Metallica ringing in his ears , a tired peed Bala went to the T.V Room in the middle of the night. It was all eerie with spiders and stuff to his company. Soorji was snoring loud at one of the corners. Bala was a little surprised at the emptiness of the room. It was only 2.30 and everyone was sleeping. (Its said that MH never sleeps). Bala had been waiting for this one moment the whole of his lifetime ... he had spent at MH. He looked at the tool of his desire ... The long... black .. beauty lying just beside Soorji .... With one swift leap , he took it in his hands....
The REMOTE. The yellow glow from the ring on the Ftv model's titties glew in his eyes. " Now I am the king! The TV's mine! ", he must have said . From there, the story was similar to what a 16 year old would have done during his first night. Bala scurried (is that a right term?) through the entire frequency range searching for the show of his desire ... and Finally he got it Mtv-ICON-Metallica ON STAGE-whatever. 15 minutes passed and then suddenly... (SCROLL DOWN)
There was a loud Crack and Boom...
The TV Went off ...
It was as if a meteor had landed. It was all dark ...
In a split second,Bala was out of the room and ran to the middle of now where... That was a foolish decision, because he thought he had made a 180 degree turn, whereas infact he had only made a 90 degree turn...and he rushed into one of the prohibited toilets.... P-L-A-C-H-K-U ... that was exactly the sound ...he was splattered flat on the wall of the toilet, his leg in the little watery toilet with some dry shit and his leg twisted. It took him a whole 30 minutes to recover and our dear hero found his way through the dark to the Cooler, only to find that it was empty. He had to do with some paper and the three drops that trickled every 7 seconds. At that very moment ... Bala's brain began to work .. and he thought ... "What had happened in there?" . Soorji.......?! "
The warrior instincts in Bala awoke and he darted to the TV Room. Midway, the only foolishness he did was to get strangled by the Asianet Cable. He peeped into the dark TV Room.
" Su.. su.. su.. Soorji ..."
A loud grumbling was the response.
He could also hear the whirring of the fan. The power is back, Bala's detective instincts told him.
Bala stepped inside the TV Room, and let his hands find the Switch on the wall. He found the switch alright and turned it on.
The sound was...
" Pzzzzzzzz.. zzwip "
Three of Bala's nostril's hairs burned. (A Small short circuit effect on the Experienced-High-Voltage-Electrical-Engineer). That was all that happened. No lights.. But by now, Bala's eyes had accustomed to the moon light in the room.
And then he saw it .... THE HORROR ... THE HORROR ....
There was more moon light in the room , than there had been before. And there was a strong-disgusting smell of urine. (Though this was usual in the TV room, as the urinal was very close to it and shared a common air duct).
And then he saw in awe and respect... A whole circular piece about the size of table, of concrete Roof had fallen!!! This moment was heavenly .. The moon smiled through the new found hole in the roof and seemed to say .. "It was not me .. Bad Contractors.. "
Slowly .. in bullet time , Bala's opened mouthed face looked where the piece had fallen...
"bluhu hoo " --- Bala cried like a little baby.
It was right on Soorji's tummy. (That explained the extra smell of urine in the room). And there Soorji was .. still snoring his way to the 7th stage of sleep.
For a moment, Bala didnt know what to do. Then deciding that it was his duty to help his friend from such distress, he decided to help...
But How...Poor Soorji was sleeping , and did he know that 5 kilos of concrete roof was lying on his tummy?.. Maybe he did have some wierd dream of being crushed by an elephant... But he was still asleep.
Bala's neo-cortex came up with a plan. He used his talent in tickling Soorji to the right position, (whence he discovered where the source of the loud grumbling he had heard before), so that he could knudge the concrete piece .
By 4 am, he was all done...
Though nothing happened to Soorji (infact he didnt even know), Bala was really affected/effected by the incident.
Bala Couldnt Sleep anymore.
The moment he closed his eyes... All sorts of wierd images would creep up.
They were specifically.... things that could fall on him, while he was asleep.
Concrete Roof .. ? Fan ..? Bulb ? Tube Light.
As a remedy , He decided to sleep in open space. When a dog peed on him, he decided to conquer his fear of heights and sleep on the terrace.
But that only made things worse...
He found new things to worry about.
(THE AIRPORT WAS NEAR)
(THE MILITARY FLY BASE WAS NEAR).
Airplanes .. Jets... Tired Flying Birds.. Unconscious Flying Birds ...Clouds , Moon .. Stars .. Comets ....
He couldnt find a place ... where nothing would fall on him.
He even thought of sleeping under water (in our famous tank) with a pipe to breath...
But after a few minutes , he would surface ...
So thats why Bala Couldnt/Cant Sleep.
If anybody has a solution please contact him.
C 219
Bala
Men's Hostel
CET.
Copyright Neo Films 2003
Monday, October 10, 2005
From the past by bala-2
FLIGHTLESS
Brought to earth, upon a broken wing,
crawling with ants, lowly, slithering,
looks above to see comrades fly
a few feet above, but it felt like sky.
Waiting for a speedy end,
adapting, he begins to pretend.
like an ant he scrounges around,
hoping to hear death's stealthy sound.
Came bouncing along that cruel child,
twinkling eyes with merry wild.
He tore away the moth's last vestige,
ripping apart his cloak of insectly prestige.
Reduced to just another ant,
with no wings to rave and rant.
Brought to earth, upon a broken wing,
crawling with ants, lowly, slithering,
looks above to see comrades fly
a few feet above, but it felt like sky.
Waiting for a speedy end,
adapting, he begins to pretend.
like an ant he scrounges around,
hoping to hear death's stealthy sound.
Came bouncing along that cruel child,
twinkling eyes with merry wild.
He tore away the moth's last vestige,
ripping apart his cloak of insectly prestige.
Reduced to just another ant,
with no wings to rave and rant.
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Cell from hell
The music fires on all cylinders, shrill metallic and craving instant attention.
I let it hurt my eardrums and then I steel my resolve to turn it up a little more.
Now it has begun to really hurt. I like this. Am I a masochist? Am I empty?
Maybe yes. Maybe yes. A little louder please.
YES. now I have reached the point where I cannot hear myself speak anymore.
Ha! so this is what it is like to be like you...
No wonder you like it so much.
Now let us try closing the eyes. Sensual overload. the one single sense stimulated to
exhaustion has borrowed the other unused 4 sensory amplifiers. Is there something left in
Winamp's tank to test this barrage of parallel amplifiers? Apparently yes.
Now I can hear the scratches of fingers on fretboards of distant guitars. The screech of
mikes hissed upon at close range.
And then silence. Changeover. The next track is anti-climactic in its mellow lilt. I don't
like it.
Hit J and jump to the next track. A gradually escalating song which had once been my 48
hour loop track. As it escalates, I brace for the assault. Now the volume is at the max. My
neighbour looks at me stunned at the fact that my headphones are interrupting her
conversation on the phone. At the periphery of my vision I see her mouthing the word
P-S-Y-C-H-O to her unseen friend on the other end of an Airtel connection.
Like I care.
I let it hurt my eardrums and then I steel my resolve to turn it up a little more.
Now it has begun to really hurt. I like this. Am I a masochist? Am I empty?
Maybe yes. Maybe yes. A little louder please.
YES. now I have reached the point where I cannot hear myself speak anymore.
Ha! so this is what it is like to be like you...
No wonder you like it so much.
Now let us try closing the eyes. Sensual overload. the one single sense stimulated to
exhaustion has borrowed the other unused 4 sensory amplifiers. Is there something left in
Winamp's tank to test this barrage of parallel amplifiers? Apparently yes.
Now I can hear the scratches of fingers on fretboards of distant guitars. The screech of
mikes hissed upon at close range.
And then silence. Changeover. The next track is anti-climactic in its mellow lilt. I don't
like it.
Hit J and jump to the next track. A gradually escalating song which had once been my 48
hour loop track. As it escalates, I brace for the assault. Now the volume is at the max. My
neighbour looks at me stunned at the fact that my headphones are interrupting her
conversation on the phone. At the periphery of my vision I see her mouthing the word
P-S-Y-C-H-O to her unseen friend on the other end of an Airtel connection.
Like I care.
Sunday, August 28, 2005
Darkness in Dubai
Nair and his gang of 40 plus are discussing religion and boozing, whilst i am typing my first blog after 2 months. A lot of things have changed. Phase 3 of life has already begun. Under the watchful eyes of my relatives, i am beginning to relive life, as i used to .. 10 years back, in the bliss of ignorance. Nair is a very interesting nasty character. He is a manager in the sea foods division of some company called Akira. He has his family in Mumbai. A true vagabond, he visits all night clubs and says "they forced me !!". No matter how much he boozes, he makes it a point to wake up at 5.30 and play "kausalya supraba...." he then dozes off and wont let me reduce the volume.
After 4 rounds, they have now started eating . Nair and his friends are very particular about food. "We should never have food from hotels! god knows how old the oil is!!". Nair smokes a pack of cigarrete between 6.45 am and 7.45 am. I am not sure, how many he smokes during the day. All the CD's he own are devotional ones. His wake up drink is one glass of tea and one glass of liquor.
Thanks to Strings and their songs, ... I can drown myself in the magical world of music.
The boat driver is sweating like hell. The everyday boat-ride back home is a soothing one. People dont talk that much on the boat. Everyone seems to be enjoying the waves, or rather trying to forget everything for 15 minutes , before they get into the thick of the things, be it be the room with 14 people, or the office where you are looked down upon. If someone bathes 5 times a day, he should be really clean.
Work is exciting. One fine morning after my first production patch went live, i was summoned to the main branch. Customer A wants to open a current account, the branch user, an arab lady clicks on the first few screens and `DiSHum!` HTTP 500 Error. The system analyst watched the scene with horror, the customer blinked, and the branch user screams .. 'wallahi @#% 4$@ $#!'. I went near him and whispered "Bring down the system immediately, downtime 30 minutes'. He repeated it and soon, 23 branches were down for 30 minutes.
The water in the tub was really warm. I lay there for about an hour. felt really good. The sweltering heat of 50 degree celsius had knocked me out. Residence Deira, by Le Meridien. My home for 20 nights. Renjith and Prabhu (at the reception) were my only friends during the time. 63000 rupees... bloody hell! The bank has a policy of showing off... to let the world know where a new employee gets to stay, though temporarily.
'Finding Neverland' was the last movie I saw, about a month back. Abode : Qatar Airways. Kate looked beautiful. Johny Depp was amazing.
The drunkards (3 nos) are still discussing some crap "Money will come and go, relationships are important".
Dubai : the land of extremes. It has changes so much. On one side, i can find people who are better than angels, and on the other, there are russian whores knocking on your doors at just 6.30 pm!
Optra is doing a smooth 120 km/hr.. and i feel it like the 40 km/hr back in india. The tea cup doesnot shake. My uncle is finding it hard to keep it under 130.. the max speed limit on the Dubai-Abudhabi highway. Maybe because the road is too wide .. I cant sense the speed. Pull down the window... and the desert wind gushes . .yup.. really we are not static! Cost of petrol : 8 rupees per litre.
14 people in a room! double decker beds. A small paper sticked on the kitchen door "donot enter.. between 10 pm and 6 am. we are sleeping here, and are tired from work". Room rents increase by 100% or more every year!
Uppma... aah! the good old breakfast from hostel, chennai , bangalore and now in dubai. Lunch : Chicken sandwich + flavoured milk. Evening : snacks. Dinner : kerala poratta (not paratha or parantha) and veg curry.
Zeus, You might find some lousy spelling mistakes, which might irritate you. Sorry man, I cant spell ...
After 4 rounds, they have now started eating . Nair and his friends are very particular about food. "We should never have food from hotels! god knows how old the oil is!!". Nair smokes a pack of cigarrete between 6.45 am and 7.45 am. I am not sure, how many he smokes during the day. All the CD's he own are devotional ones. His wake up drink is one glass of tea and one glass of liquor.
Thanks to Strings and their songs, ... I can drown myself in the magical world of music.
The boat driver is sweating like hell. The everyday boat-ride back home is a soothing one. People dont talk that much on the boat. Everyone seems to be enjoying the waves, or rather trying to forget everything for 15 minutes , before they get into the thick of the things, be it be the room with 14 people, or the office where you are looked down upon. If someone bathes 5 times a day, he should be really clean.
Work is exciting. One fine morning after my first production patch went live, i was summoned to the main branch. Customer A wants to open a current account, the branch user, an arab lady clicks on the first few screens and `DiSHum!` HTTP 500 Error. The system analyst watched the scene with horror, the customer blinked, and the branch user screams .. 'wallahi @#% 4$@ $#!'. I went near him and whispered "Bring down the system immediately, downtime 30 minutes'. He repeated it and soon, 23 branches were down for 30 minutes.
The water in the tub was really warm. I lay there for about an hour. felt really good. The sweltering heat of 50 degree celsius had knocked me out. Residence Deira, by Le Meridien. My home for 20 nights. Renjith and Prabhu (at the reception) were my only friends during the time. 63000 rupees... bloody hell! The bank has a policy of showing off... to let the world know where a new employee gets to stay, though temporarily.
'Finding Neverland' was the last movie I saw, about a month back. Abode : Qatar Airways. Kate looked beautiful. Johny Depp was amazing.
The drunkards (3 nos) are still discussing some crap "Money will come and go, relationships are important".
Dubai : the land of extremes. It has changes so much. On one side, i can find people who are better than angels, and on the other, there are russian whores knocking on your doors at just 6.30 pm!
Optra is doing a smooth 120 km/hr.. and i feel it like the 40 km/hr back in india. The tea cup doesnot shake. My uncle is finding it hard to keep it under 130.. the max speed limit on the Dubai-Abudhabi highway. Maybe because the road is too wide .. I cant sense the speed. Pull down the window... and the desert wind gushes . .yup.. really we are not static! Cost of petrol : 8 rupees per litre.
14 people in a room! double decker beds. A small paper sticked on the kitchen door "donot enter.. between 10 pm and 6 am. we are sleeping here, and are tired from work". Room rents increase by 100% or more every year!
Uppma... aah! the good old breakfast from hostel, chennai , bangalore and now in dubai. Lunch : Chicken sandwich + flavoured milk. Evening : snacks. Dinner : kerala poratta (not paratha or parantha) and veg curry.
Zeus, You might find some lousy spelling mistakes, which might irritate you. Sorry man, I cant spell ...
Friday, August 26, 2005
From the past by bala - 1
WHEN I HAVE FEARS THAT I CEASE TO BE...
when i have fears that i cease to be..
i look for help,i look to the sky and sea.
cornerstones questioned and icons destroyed
i stand numb with fear unalloyed.
i don't fear death, sickness or physical pain
nor thunderclaps puntuating the driving rain
no fear in my heart for bird or beast,
which may strike, but with reason at least.
neither do i fear the single man,
who fights & throws at me all he can.
i am not afraid of mistakes, for from them i learn.
nor fazed am i by just punishments, i earn.
but when groups of narrow men come my way,
preach brotherhood and make me pay
for the fact that i don't conform.
to their mediocrity and their norm.
when i am asked to sacrifice my all
for the common good, to be another brick in the wall.
a wall to stall the tides of genius.
a wall to defend the will of ignoramus.
this is done with refreshing ease.
as the drugged masses hold their peace.
all men are equal, they proclaim,
but talents differ, and we are not the same.
yet they ask a share of the sweat of my brow,
for men who don't even know,
what it takes to work with two hands
and leave blood and tears on time's sands.
brushing aside my claims to my right,
painting their faces of woe and plight,
mouthing,'blessed are the meek...'
while of hypocrisy their breath reeks.
all of this i will fight
even if darkness claims the last light.
i will wake each morning in constant fear
of someone who will push, someone dear.
someone who in the name of love,
will deal the final blow from above.
in my darkest hour, if i gave away my key,
its then, that i fear i may cease to be.
when i have fears that i cease to be..
i look for help,i look to the sky and sea.
cornerstones questioned and icons destroyed
i stand numb with fear unalloyed.
i don't fear death, sickness or physical pain
nor thunderclaps puntuating the driving rain
no fear in my heart for bird or beast,
which may strike, but with reason at least.
neither do i fear the single man,
who fights & throws at me all he can.
i am not afraid of mistakes, for from them i learn.
nor fazed am i by just punishments, i earn.
but when groups of narrow men come my way,
preach brotherhood and make me pay
for the fact that i don't conform.
to their mediocrity and their norm.
when i am asked to sacrifice my all
for the common good, to be another brick in the wall.
a wall to stall the tides of genius.
a wall to defend the will of ignoramus.
this is done with refreshing ease.
as the drugged masses hold their peace.
all men are equal, they proclaim,
but talents differ, and we are not the same.
yet they ask a share of the sweat of my brow,
for men who don't even know,
what it takes to work with two hands
and leave blood and tears on time's sands.
brushing aside my claims to my right,
painting their faces of woe and plight,
mouthing,'blessed are the meek...'
while of hypocrisy their breath reeks.
all of this i will fight
even if darkness claims the last light.
i will wake each morning in constant fear
of someone who will push, someone dear.
someone who in the name of love,
will deal the final blow from above.
in my darkest hour, if i gave away my key,
its then, that i fear i may cease to be.
Saturday, August 13, 2005
the brothel with a wooden balcony
Men were sitting with their legs stretched on the wooden balcony, and a woman was entertaining them with her talk. We were all waiting for our chance to cuddle with the woman, and cuddle means cuddle. I was sitting on the side railings, with my legs stretched, and comfortable with the whole situation. Beside me sat two little girls, daughters of the our host. I tried to talk with one of the girls, but she was not interested. She ran away. I thought of the whole cuddling thing, the soft white bed on the floor, all fluffy, and the fluffy woman. I felt a little naked in my shorts and the short dress that i wore over it. The wind was getting a little chilly. But my mind was calm. I dont know whether i got my chance or i just got what i wanted , but i started to leave. I walked down the nicely crafted, wooden stair case and entered the corridor which leads outside. While i was walking along the corridor, i got a glipse of whats going in the next house connected to the same corridor. A woman was teaching another woman the right demeanor for her honeymoon time. She was acting shy, and she was dressed nicely in a white dress , and was practising different expressions. I walked on silently.
An old one
Buried in the sands of time I strain to hear the voice within the noise.
Worried and infected by the touch of crime, I fear I have no choice.
Head full of heavy metal and searching for peace.
Dreaming of blue skies and sleeping under the trees.
The shadows deepen and summer sings.
Melting the joy and other such things.
Hoping that each new step is not another mistake.
Praying that destiny is mine to make.
Watching but not seeing, running but not fleeing.
In circles I go, painful it is I know.
Friends watch and so do foes.
I can’t see the enemy within me.
Should I buy a gun and blow my brains out?
That is a question still resting in the shadow of a doubt.
Friendless and endless, I rest in unease.
Desolation destroyed desperation described.
The solutions dissolve,
The corroded remains of the iron resolve.
Thoughts in chaos, brain cells in quantum disarray.
Fragments of me watch the whole in dismay.
Mathematics violated, the summation of the parts results not in the whole.
Theophysics ridiculed, I indulge in the fragmentation of the soul.
The atom of creative thought consistently broken.
Kilotons of epic yield pass by unspoken.
Words that could change the cosmos,
Evade the membrane that captures it, almost.
Endless summers raining on my mental forge and anvil,
Reduce the crude ore of thought to nothing, null, void and nil.
Within the calm vortex of my storm, I mock my peace.
Something that i wrote so long ago that I have forgotten its context...Some of it still is good, though it is mostly sick rhymes thats all...
Thursday, August 04, 2005
reborn
This has a dejavu feel for me. After weeks and months of boring life, suddenly you are dropped into a nice world for a limited amount of time. And then you see a lot of nice thing, nice unknown people, nice unseen places, and then you are taken to a calm cozy place to sleep and a moment to think whats happening. And you feel, that you were born today morning, though you feel like having the wisdom of atleast a 10 year old, and you remember that you have family and friends whom you care about. But there are just no memories before the start of this adventure. You try to retain the dementia and savour it as long as possible. And to your surprise it lingers.
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