Another story

Its a pretty face on the wall
Coloured more than just black and white
Faking summer warmth and light
Until the shadows fall

Cant sing a pleasant song
For her heart is bleeding blue
Nothing seems right
Nothing seems new

Is the golden globe lost?
The one that moved her feet
Whenever she had to rise
And had a peak to meet

Serene and stony, she can’t face the crowd
While a want has just seen its end
She cares not for that misplaced
Whiles she ignores a legend.

A dense mind, she fights
An impassive perception, she clasps
She wants to be embraced by a distant orb
Where the little innocence rests.

Though the nature of her soul’s odd
Bringing sanity in angst,
A quiet night and a dull dream
While the roses wither away.

The World is alone tonight

The world is alone tonight
Under the power of those chimes,
The grey smoke and the sinister grin,
The lamp that burns in an over riding harmony.

It’s not the question of the universe,
So, it must be the maiden of truth
That which oversees the wooden path,
And forbids the distrusting tonight.

The foot is firm downhill,
When the sight yearns for the setting sun.
And the brook blazes and grimaces
It’s the allure life has to offer tonight.

The racquet of hell and the satanic might
Must be gentle to that dying will
For that which coerced it
Has left a scar tonight.

The power of good, no entity claims,
Nor the fortitude of the times of yore,
All that’s left is an earnest wish
That the mute whispers tonight.

Breaching the faith of the blind,
And extending the act of evil,
The self cannot bode,
It’s pure and it shall stay so tonight.

The world will survive alone tonight
Under the power of chimes,
The grey smoke, the sinister grin
And the lamp that burns in an over riding harmony.

Neverland

I look at this life of mine,
All this and more to cry..
Nothin' is ever gonna be fine,
Just everything to feel sorry..
Not that all this is a sign,
That i'm the one who made it awry..

I feel powerless and lost,
Like a ship across the seven seas..
Riding the weather at all costs,
Not able to surmount the waves..
Have nothing in me to boast,
Just a mind of obscurities..

Not here, not there
Not near, not far
All the things that i did do..
All the things i didn't...
I don't know where I belong..
Before I wave so long...

The doors I open to darkness,
No rays of sunshine to show the way..
Can't help but feel the loneliness,
Not even a spot of hope to pray...
I'm drowning in all my carelessness..
Not a place for my soul to sway..

All the memories that I have,
Makes me feel cold and numb..
The attention that I never gave,
I was just building my own tomb..
No goals and nothing to crave..
Looking not for that elusive crumb..

Have to fight my demons on my own,
Though i'm no gladiator..

I want to bury my past..
Just to start afresh..

I want live finding my mystic place..
Or die finding my neverland..

Black

Look up at night
Everything seems so black
vast space so infinite
And me, insignificant...

wandering out into the space
All I see is just black
Heavenliness on the surface
not a crevice not a crack ...

And then you feel
After all, you're not alone
Maybe there's
Life still to be searched.
Then you hope...

exploring the unexplored..
beyond the boundaries...
into the unknown..
past a point of no return..

Confined to space so dark,
epitomizing that what is blank
things around me look so stark..
with my mind very cark...

If given one chance
To turn around and go back,
it would lead to ignorance..
like the ends of the universe...

And then you feel
After all, you're not alone
Maybe there's
Life still to be searched
Then you hope...

exploring the unexplored..
beyond the boundaries...
into the unknown..
past a point of no return..

you would find the other world
the one you always hoped to see,
the place where you don't need to hide,
the anxiety growing within all the time..

darkness showing the way,
your soul ceases to sway,
upon seeing the distant light,
no one to explain your plight..

and as the speck of light fades away..
all i see is the sanctity of black..
darkness clouds around me ..
one last look into the unknown..

Reflections

What do you expect you will see?
Except for mirrors full of thee;
Don't have to look too far to reflect,
On all those thoughts you'd rather regret...

One fine day, I was jobless! :)

A day with the sun all so bright,
With my spirits seem so high.

I go do the thing I like to do,
hangin out at the basement,
playin my guitar all so loud!
Ahh, the day seems ever so nice.

We decide to go to the city,
the place we call home.
Destination all so unknown,
With everyone seemingly so happy.

Taking the tube for the race,
'gainst time, going so fast!
working away all so earnestly,
Will the day still seem so nice?

Looking up at the evening sky,
dusk beginning to set in !
The sky turning all so orange,
With everyone seemingly so happy.

Fade

Looking over the horizon,
All I see is the darkness.
Seeing over the city,
I see people schemin' n' planning.

Getting up every morning,
I realize the surprise that life is
The pain that I go through,
To be a symbol of hope.

You tend to be a short-lived hero,
Or be one long enough to be the villain.

Darkness
Absorbs me;
What ever happened to justice?...

Darkness
(Just) Haunts me;
Leaves me (without a trace)
Until I fade away.

Realizing my very self doubts,
Going through all the murky thoughts;
Fighting the many conflicts,
In a complex mind of hate.

The pain that drives you to
Be a man's worst nightmare.
The constant fear in my mind
With the conscience constantly drivin'.

Be the Hero
or the Villain.

Keeping the cards close to my chest,
The more mysterious I become...

The pain I see though,
Sorely hanging from a rope:
Which you hold dearly,
So that you can climb upon...

I was always the short-lived Hero;
And now, I am the Villain.

"Fish! Is that true?"

Today, I read an extremely interesting piece of speculative work. It goes something like this - imagine that there's this Amazonian electric fish, that is very intelligent, in fact as intelligent and sophisticated as you or I. However it has the special ability to perceive electric fields. It has this sense in addition to others such as taste, sight and so forth. Now, how does it communicate to us the way it perceives the world around it through the electric eyes? (pun unintended.)

If I were a superscientist from the future, I can study the entire process of the fish sensing the electric data, right from the sensors on its skin to the neural pathways in its brain.
I can map out the entire flow diagram and say, "Hey fish, this is what's going on in your brain."
The fish says, "Sure, that's what's going on. But I also feel electric field. Where's the feeling in that diagram?"
"What's that", I ask.
"That's part of the actual, ineffable experience of the field, which I can never seem to convey to you because you're totally field-blind."

We can study the neurophysiology of this fish and figure out how the electric organs on the sides of the body transduce electrical current, how this information is conveyed to the brain, what part of the brain analyzes this information and how the fish uses this information to dodge predators and so on. Fine, but we'll never know what it feels like to sense electricity. For us, it will always remain a third-person account.

For centuries, philosophers have assumed that this gap between brain and mind poses a deep epistemological problem - a barrier that simply cannot be crossed. Modern day devices such as the transcranial magnetic stimulator - an extremely powerful, fluctuating magnet that activates neural tissue with some degree of precision can be used to try out such experiments. People who have been blind from birth, and whose visual pathways in the brain haven't degenerated have reportedly perceived light through this device, even though their eyes are completely insensitive to brightness.

Consider now another possibility. Suppose there was some elaborate method by which the brain of the fish was directly linked to a strategic part of our brains, would we be able to perceive electricity? This procedure is theoretically possible. What then of the mind-body barrier that the philosophers were talking about?

Pink Floyd: High Hopes

Beyond the horizon of the place we lived when we were young
In a world of magnets and miracles
Our thoughts strayed constantly and without boundary
The ringing of the division bell had begun
Along the long road and on down the causeway
Do they still meet there by the cut
There was a ragged band that followed in our footsteps
Running before time took our dreams away
Leaving the myriad small creatures trying to tie us to the ground
To a life consumed by slow decay

The grass was greener
The light was brighter
With friends surrounded
The nights of wonder

Looking beyond the embers of bridges glowing behind us
To a glimpse of how green it was on the other side
Steps taken forwards but sleepwalking back again
Dragged by the force of some inner tide
At a higher altitude with flag unfurled
We reached the dizzy heights of that dreamed of world

****

Encumbered forever by desire and ambition
There's a hunger still unsatisfied
Our weary eyes still stray to the horizon
Though down this road we've been so many times

The grass was greener
The light was brighter
The taste was sweeter
The nights of wonder
With friends surrounded
The dawn mist glowing
The water flowing
The endless river
For ever and ever.

The sixth 'dogma'

Now when I look back, though my semester wasn't one of the greatest, it is still a vivid recollection. It started off with a bang, what with my girlfriend and I going to movies bunking classes! And then, getting totally involved in my numerous projects, of which one of them being academic, the others being short term goals like finishing that next calvin and hobbes book! Then the trip to Chennai, for that national conference. This experience brought to me a whole world of academicians and their seriousness in their respective fields. Hmm... now coming to the bad, and the ugly parts of the last few months. The highlights must be placed on the terrible academics and the worse-still exams themselves, and not to speak, the spat with my girl. But as they say, all's fine when all's done. I happened to find myself with a job in hand. I got back my time and space, which I hadn'd had during my 'project days'. Now there's some time for breathing, not that I was stressed for time earlier, but yes, I was stressed about other things. But most importantly, i got my love, my life back. My hope, my feelings, my emotions... I got my 'self' back. This must be what they call "the armyman coming home" feeling. I am myself again. I can give, emote, laugh, feel and care for myself and my girl again. but look at the vagueries of life, all this I feel when she just returned back to Australia. That the sad thing though. Nevertheless, the number '6' has always had its effects on me ever since I learned that it is my numerological number (though I don't believe in stuff like that). Semester 6 has come and gone, my life had gone but has come back.

Torn Love

I fell in love with a precious stone,
Shared his sparkle and his ground.
Leapt with him on that wave we see,
And beckoned the cosmic black.

The bank was then, still and withdrawn,
And a silent river used to be torn upstream,
I lay beside my overwhelming love,
Unmoved by the shadowy goliath.

I watched one and then another stone pass,
Writhing and tussling the silent river
I bid adieu to such friends and foe,
As I lay beside my overwhelming love.

Soon the colors of the leaves changed.
They died and fell apart, as I gauged
The storm arrived and the sea fell prey.
And the lightning struck, making me a prey.

He watched me go, to the farthest land.
Where his eyes couldn’t sense his pursuit.
It was then he shouted loud, for no avail
He stretched to shoulder my pain, much in vain.

I emerged to pierce the oblivion,
To break- free from the demon’s dance.
It was an intense struggle against fate.
And all that I had seen in the past.

The nights now spoke louder than the days.
The fort of strength shattered across.
And I watched him go to the farthest land.
My faith and soul collapsed.

I bit the dust and tumbled down every rise,
I could only hang on to the memoirs of the spring.
When he had echoed the refrain of eternal love,
When his touch shielded the fragile sill.

How did the seasons change, so quick?
while I was raising a lovely castle at the edge.
I had pinned hopes and adorned it with life.
And I had pleaded him to be a part of it.


I lost a world, I blame the gem.
But the gem was after all, only a stone
He shared a magical stride with me.
And vanished ‘ere I could disagree.

When I'm gone

The murmur of the blooming bud,
Voices no silence when I leave.
The rains don’t stop.
No kitten cries, when I leave.

The land’s warm, reserves aplenty,
No love is scarce when I leave,
Amidst a tear and a half,
They say good bye when I leave.

The stream of thoughts, a bright blue,
Will soon seep down, once I leave.
They will caress what they have got
Once I leave

Then they will detect, a poster or two
Which says – ‘ I miss you’, once I leave
They will see another and notice a void
Once I leave.

Past that, they would accelerate their life
And gear it up, after I leave.
They would linger engaged, hear no song
After I leave.

Mono-sight’s a boon, while they bond
The oaths don’t matter after I leave.
Glory of their own is enough to spice it up
After I leave.

The prospects at the far end,
The celebrated past, triggers them, after I leave
They look baffled at the distant horizon,
And wonder whether they are bereaved.

They wander about, panic struck,
Wild about the soaring pitch.
They find my absence odd
And what they did wrong, long after.

Then they pretend that they see nothing absurd,
And claim life to be a roller coaster,
They agonize their present, offend the long-gone.
And reflect what they did wrong, long after I’m gone.

They play a game and watch the moon,
And parade that night, their triumph too soon.
While their heart thumps, and misses that beat.
Wishing profusely to be with the forlorn.

The crave cant wait, nor the lonesome sky
They want me back, long after I’m gone
The story does not end until I’m found.
Long After I’m gone.

Will be back!

After my last exam, I waited for the bus outside the Mac building, which was an intense hub of activity, much unlike the rest of Canberra.Students, mostly Chinese, hung about the place, discussing the exam paper. Their presence failed to have any affect on me. I stood dreaming about the next fifteen days. I was going back home after finishing one year at uni. I wondered if life would have been any different if i was studying one of the popular courses at VTU. I concluded that the difference is more than i can comprehend.

• After shifting off campus I had realized the difference between apathy and tolerance.
• I had known the power of silence and their different types.
• I had understood what it was to walk home alone at 11:30 pm in the night after a tiring day spent at the uni library.
• I had discovered the true 'fun' of hanging out at a coffee club.
• I had discovered that culture hardly plays a role between individuals when they have the same wavelength.
• I considered the importance of networking.
• I knew what it was to safeguard your true nature in the midst of emotional turmoil, stressful environments and lonely nights.
• I learnt the importance of internet banking.
• I habituated smiling.
• I was now used to environments characterized by cold winds, pollution-free air and non judgemental people.

I guess the list continues and so does the journey. But i still long to be back home, to listen to the 'lamest' of kannada songs on FM, meet friends and have extended conversations.

Emotions: Feelings to die for

A few millennia ago, due to certain ‘mistakes’ on the part of mother nature, sea-bound whales chanced upon land. The rest, as they say, is history.

A quick survey of the phenomena concerned with the surroundings and the development of nature around that time leads us to a chilling question – did the animals kill themselves emotionally? Did the animals, with their well developed brains evolve too fast emotionally for their own good? Did the plants and trees, with their lack of decision-influencing brains have an ‘emotional’ edge over the animals and insects?

Well, owing to the obvious absurdity on the scale regarding the questions above, perhaps not. But of late, socio biologists have come up with a new claim – animals unconsciously time their demise. This revolting statement manifests itself to many spheres of conclusions, some seemingly far fetched. Take for instance the salmon, which swims upstream and up waterfalls. A totally suicidal mission in the interest of a bizarre homing and nesting habit. A mistake in evolution. Or, consider the sad story of lemmings. Lemmings are known to actually commit suicide. Each 4 years there is a cyclic demographical boom of the lemmings (small arctic rodents) followed by a desperate massive migration during which many die throwing themselves into the rivers, lakes and seas. It has been regarded as a collective suicide, conscious or involuntary, caused by over-population.

The attention which I wish to draw is to be focussed on the emotion behind such decisions taken by animals. Even psychologists of today have agreed that emotionally weak people are medically the toughest nuts to crack, if an otherwise easily and totally curable disease afflicts them. Plants, which as such suffer few diseases when compared to animals, seem to get over them in the course of an evolution interval or two. Rarely does a particular species of plants suffer from the same disease years on end. They totally adapt to the environment, and quickly.

This draws us to another question – the role played by emotions in mentally advanced species of organisms in the ability to adapt to new environments. Here though, the answer is obvious. The better the brain better is the chance of survival over diverse environments. But the answer pertains to only a long term quo. According to noted socio biologist Edward O. Wilson, 85% of all organisms with a reasonably advanced brain structure showed signs of mental depression when something they liked, or were used to, were taken away from them. Which means, in a way, the more mentally (and hence emotionally) developed an organism is, the chances of its survival in a new territory or environment is diminished. Not just that, even a small change in the DNA structure in the genealogy of such organisms has wide spread changes in its emotions, as is explained by the case of lemmings.

Before we conclude, let us examine a few more cases of over-development of the emotional instinct has made the fauna seem like fools before the ‘brainless’ flora around us.

• In a natural reserve in Zimbabwe, chased from their pride, luck seemed to have encountered a pair of old hungry male lions. They cornered a warthog, but the animal escaped in the last moment in a den. One of the lions, pushed by the hunger, tried to follow it, but he got trapped in the narrow hole. His partner tried to help him, pulling him out with the paw, but when the trapped lion started roaring of pain, he stopped. The trapped lion died asphyxiated, and the next day, his partner hardly managed to pull out his corpse. Sooner, the second lion was found dead next to the body of the other. He had refused to go hunting, and died of hunger.·
• This case occurred in Ostiglia (in Italy): Franz, a German shepherd dog, was lying on the railways line, near the railway station. Workers always chased away with stones the dog, but soon after the dog returned, and one day, the dog met with the Verona-Bologna train, and was run over. Franz had lost his master, condemned two weeks before to one year in jail. Since she had disappeared, the animal refused food, haunting through the city, like a suffering soul missing a beloved one
• Some birds, with a more complex behaviour, can suicide, like parrots. In a pair of pet love birds, the male got an injury that killed him in one hour. The female, witnessing the sufferance of her partner till he died, imitated all his movements, like she would have suffered the same way like him. She kept on imitating this even after her partner died, and this had a harming effect on her inner organs. Her vitality dropped, and she died soon.
  

Drawing congruities with human behavior in the same light is too obvious, and unnecessary. As we are at the threshold of a vast era of new-age discoveries and inventions, much attention has been diverted away from the essence of man, and the human soul. For, examining within the deep insides of our spirit has wrongly become synonymous to emotional weakness. The not-so-mystic ‘mystic’ yogis of India have long held it that salvation can only be achieved with disillusionment of worldly entities, and emotions.

One step and then another

Claiming the universe to be mine,
I was born one day.

I hugged the land,
Some squandered thoughts, beliefs.

I belonged to the sun and the moon,
Yet, I yearned for more light.

Sane vanity I perceived.
I knew the picture was skewed.

Royal channels of faith,
I found scattered among the distressed

Appeal and Charm grew on me.
I shunned the stray.

I saw different worlds in an eye.
I saw different faces in the mirror

Breathes grew shorter, faster.
Solace ripened and wasted away.

Time healed the injured, the hurt.
They ran again.

They wanted to sleep
They wanted to rise.

It is an endless journey, I noticed.
It’s all about building the nerve.

It’s all about hugging the land,
Some squandered thoughts, beliefs.

It’s all about claiming the universe.
Like, it was, the day I was born.

The Glass wall

I felt it. It was strong,bold and certain of its existence. It glowed in the dark, making everything around it insignificant. It could move. It could obstruct.It could camourflage beautifully.
It was the glass wall.
It had been growing for a while, I noticed before it assertained itself in my path of life.
I had heard about it before. My pals had warned me, that it would be on a lookout for its victims every now and then. But, I failed to react in time. (I guess that's what happens with most people. They live their life as if it's protected in spite of the constant threat of an intrusion.)
After a while, I began to treat it like a disease. Something i needed to get rid of quickly to stop it from affecting other faculties.
I drained resources, tried various strategies, penalized the agents.
In this process of combat, just one concept triumphed. I call it, the ' the unbiased foreigner' concept. The philosophy I applied was based on five steps-

• Initiate a belief, that the glass wall does exist but can be handled.
• Identify patterns in its establishment and graph the growth. Pin point highs and lows.
• Clarify to the individual involved ( often to oneself) extreme consequences of rapid movements in the graphed chart and draw lines of protection against the glass wall.
• View the agents involved with a pinch of salt.
• And finally handle the situation as an unbiased foriegner.

Note : these steps can be understood and applied only when one realizes that the glass wall between two individuals has emerged and needs to be taken care of ;)

The Weird Springtime

What feelings do the first signs of spring inspire in you? Spring for most of us means the end of cold dreary days, the coming of warmth and sunshine, joy, birdsong, pretty flowers blooming, love in the air and so on. I can just picture romantic nature poets like Wordsworth or Shelley sitting under an oak tree, feeling the caress of a gentle breeze and smelling the heady odour of damp earth and pollen. They have captured nature at its best in their poems – its bounty, the playfulness of squirrels and lovebirds. But all that they saw was from a human’s perspective (which is natural of course). And what they and the rest of us fail to appreciate is, what nature as a whole actually sets out to do each spring. Summer is the only time of the year nature has got to propagate itself – to ‘Go forth and multiply’ as is famously preached by the Roman Catholic Church. So what the season really represents is each species’ struggle for survival.

Spring is not the carefree season of joy – for there is no time to waste. Every precious moment under the sun must be spent in searching for food, fighting for mates and nesting sites, feeding the young, protecting them from predators and storing food for the next harsh winter. All the fun and frolic is like the fearful excitement of a war zone: Will I survive to see tomorrow? Will I have the next meal? Will I find a mate in spite of my neighbour being a promiscuous show-off? Will I keep the raccoon from butchering my babies? (Are synonymous with: Will I survive to see tomorrow? Will I have the next meal? Will we lose the war and have our enemies kill our children and rape our women? ... which are quite often the questions that come to a soldier’s mind at wartime.)

One might wonder what prompted me to take such a morbid view of the whole thing. Well it was an article I read, since I am quite fascinated with birds, about the sparrow and the eastern bluebird. It said and I quote:

“Competition for nesting cavities between Eastern Bluebirds (Sialia sialis) and introduced species such as European Starlings (Sturnus vulgaris) and House Sparrows (Passer domesticus) is mentioned often as a cause of the well- documented decline in bluebird numbers in the eastern United States… implicate aggressive competition with House Sparrows as the cause. Besides direct observation, correlational evidence including records of House Sparrow occupation of nesting boxes and incorporation of bluebird bodies into House Sparrow nests associates traumatic death of bluebirds with competition from House Sparrows…that each day visited the bluebird nest and relentlessly pecked at the young bluebirds and any defensive adult till they succumbed to the contusions on the head and/or breast…”

I’m sure you agree with me that it sounds ghastly. I always thought of birds as small, beautiful creatures – at least the insect eating, nectar sucking ones. Not vicious, cruel and territorial beasts! I guess when Herbert Spencer used the phrase ‘survival of the fittest’, he wasn’t kidding! Surviving out there, in the wild, is not a joke; you and I won’t last a day in the jungle.

Apart from food and territory there is the battle for mates. Mallard, one would possibly know, is a beautiful duck; the males have a glossy emerald-green head. But they have strangely aggressive mating habits:

“Mallards have rates of male-male sexual activity that are unusually high for birds. In some cases, as many as 19% of pairs in a Mallard population are male-male homosexual^. When they pair off with mating partners, often one or several drakes will end up "left out". This group will sometimes target an isolated female duck — chasing, pestering and pecking at her until she weakens (a phenomenon referred to by researchers as rape flight), at which point each male will take turns copulating with the female. Male Mallards will also occasionally chase other males in the same way. (In one documented case, a male Mallard copulated with another male he was chasing after it had been killed when it flew into a glass window.)”

All of this probably makes me feel extremely glad that I’m human. And I also begin to understand what makes us humans different from other animals. Although there is an amusing movie called ‘The Mating Habits of the Earthbound Human’ in which aliens try to comprehend what drives humans to irrational behaviour when in love, I think we’ve achieved through evolution, a much longer reproductive period (not restricted to spring) and the ability to care for and nurture our children, physically, mentally and spiritually.

The purple Sky

My foot moves an inch,
I am propelled.

The friction ceases.
I stop.

The cold wind gushes.
The moon has disappeared.
I notice the purple sky.

I am enervated,
Yet illusion a sense of vague harmony,
I see the waters, deep and calm
I see the boat that’s got me here.

The fog dances in my mind,
It’s a vivid picture.
I nod to the matter
That I often passed by.

It’s the heaven, it seems,
There, where the verdicts are passed
I wait to be claimed
As I feel the stir of the soul.

The cold wind gushes
The moon has disappeared
I sense the purple sky

Candles are lit, sober and warm.
I see the four seasons pass.
The lure of the world- it smiles
The flames’ are burning in my heart.

I witness the angel’s words.
Of one good deed and another.
She wants me back.
I promise.

I cry as I lie under the purple sky
Though I am not alone.
I have a bag of gold and an intense will.
A mountain of desire and the God within.

(Un)orthodox

I have always wondered how it would feel being old. Studies show that the human spine bends by a noticeable extent, making one seem fatter and broader than he actually is, but my musings aren’t all oriented towards the physical depreciations. It is a given that mental agility worsens to a degree, and at a rate, which might shock an alien life form not used to human ‘intelligence’. But my musings aren’t all on this aspect as well.

Let’s take for instance something unrelated to our era. Rational thinking often has got confused to not thinking out of the box, for centuries. Of course, thankfully, there were exceptions. But when is the line drawn between wanting to think out of the box, but not being able to? Or not even realizing what the box is? I assume those questions didn’t make sense, so let me try again. Humans are remarkably able to adapt to a new environment, and at will. But out greatest weakness is contrary to this strength, which is that we have a tendency to stagnate if the stimuli lessen in time-rate. This holds true in numerous facets of our behavior, like the ability to understand our own children, or the willingness of professors to try out their students’ ideas.

But, irritatingly, my musings aren’t all on these aspects as well! I have noticed many people blaming aged people for their deteriorating skill for judgement, and to understand things on the go. They may be slower than their prime, yes, but there’s a larger fact looming in that the world has plain changed to their experience! They simply haven’t had inputs to many of the things for which they may need to make their decisions! The generation gap is just plain too much! The fields of general interest have more than become greener pastures!

Reflections

I can no more see the broken glasses
No more the fear of breaking them.
They are hidden where none can find,
The chambers of the dark den.

When the lights come back,
I delve into the past.
I cry over the weak mind,
The then, weak mind.

I pity the existence,
Whose pictures are engraved on my walls.
They stand by and watch,
Where the new girl might run.

I don’t want to see behind the pensive smiles.
I don’t care anymore for them.
They are hidden where none can find,
The chambers of the dark den.

Self Help : The anti-motto of a student assistant

Finally, it’s off my back. The constant state of apprehension, of nervous fear, it’s all behind me now. With the air of a murderer who’s just buried his crime, I heaved a sigh of relief as I placed the phone on the hook. It’s been two months, two months of conflict in my mind – Should I continue with my SAP (student assistantship) work or not? Well, today was the day I finally made the inevitable ‘choice’; I outsourced my work to a friend.

I’m not so much of a work shirker as I probably sometimes ought to be. But this is different, it’s just sheer patience testing. To type out dud programs and make presentations for someone else, a teacher though it may be, is maddening. I’ve struggled long enough, not with the magnitude of work, for I hardly did anything, but with the feeling deep inside that I was taking advantage of my teacher’s patience with me. In short, I knew I wasn’t doing justice to the job.

There just had to be a way out, and work shirkers don’t usually find it easily. I could just walk out anytime, but such brute is not my way of battling with life. Moreover, I need the certificate which comes with completing one semester of this job. So I spoke to a friend, asked him to do the work for me, whereby he’d get a major portion of the money, with enough for me for my immediate needs. Anyhow, this settlement is for the last month only, so I had already made my money in this job; not that I’m a person who cares much for money.

So there it was, the solution worked fine, so far at least. Reminds me of a line in H2G2:“If discretion is the better part of valour, cowardice is the better part of discretion. So Zaphod sneaked away and valiantly hid himself up in a closet”. A perfect example of how not to lead life. The teacher hasn’t noticed this subtle change of working hands, rather the typing ones; yet. As long as my friend keeps up his word, I get to sneak away, and with the certificate. Well, if he doesn’t, he’ll just lose his right to the money, and I can keep what I get. Ahh, salvation at last!

The Niceties of Procrastination

They say that all Pisceans should be fired from jobs, for no other reason but procrastination. I’m a Piscean, so you can expect this blog to be delayed!

90% of the people polled by Readers' Digest last November reportedly felt the need to put off a piece of job for later. This 'need' was such that they knew they'd be in a soup if the job was delayed, yet they didn't so much move a muscle in the direction of work.

But how nice it is to just lie back, and watch the sun go by! Only we forget that it is on the journey around to come up and catch you from behind the next day. My fellow procrastinator in school once said, "The nicest way to watch a person work is over the rim of my coffee cup!" This more than goes a long way to fix the link between procrastination and plain old 'lazy-bum' syndrome.

Take me for instance (again). I know that I’m a goner if I don't write up my record today. Or if I don’t sit up and do my assistantship work. Or if I don’t wash my toilet, fill water in my bottle or take out the garbage. all i want to do is just sit by, glancing at the clock in a cursory way every now and then, and forever re-scheduling my work to fit my eternal putting-off habit.

The best part, though, is the way people like me handle the repercussions. I sometimes live under the false mask of a "responsible and mature" Sumanth, as oft referred to by my peers and teachers alike. If only they knew! Last Tuesday (which was a half-day); I convinced my friend Anudhan that doing C++ programs isn't a bad idea. He ended up doing my SAP work for me! The glory of chance, of good fortune! But the just principle-ist that I am, I decided to pay him for his work.

This, and a lot of the usual and more articulate Murphy’s laws cannot have done a better job of driving this point home - "Don't put off till tomorrow what you can put off till day-after tomorrow!!"

That mind!

Incorrigible mind, that is
That resides in your soul
It’s sharp, it’s conscious
Yet it longs for what they call love

It senses the world that is beyond,
It sees the lack of order in the perfectionist,
It sees an unending desire to reason
Yet it longs for what they call love.

It overcomes with passion,
The difficulties that the inanimate bestows,
It climbs over pride,
Yet it longs for what they call love

It blends with the environment,
It plays the thief,
It commences the unnatural saga,
Yet it longs for what they call love

I detest that incorrigible mind,
Which can see and cannot,
I detest that incorrigible me,
Which can see and which cannot.

The Desert Song

Under the sun and the shade
That reverie could once be dispersed
Into a million colours of joy
Such was the benevolent desert that day.

Nothing barren could ever wreck,
No grey could alter the untainted,
And the brave remained so.
Such was the benevolent desert that day.

The drops of gold lingered,
Even after the palace was no more.
No wealth, no malady strained the thought
Such was the benevolent desert that day.

The men of sorts joined the run
To fix the broken limb
The sand and the learned could tell the story
Such was the benevolent desert that day.

But I can see, now I can see…. the lovely mirage,
Blurred with passion and revolt.
The clear skies have now shown
That there was no desert after all, to say
‘Such was the benevolent desert that day’

When I can be beautiful again

The roses in sin,
The matters of the heart,
The brevity of unknown pleasures
Blind the seeking eye.

An inch of pain,
The touch of assurance,
The conceit of love
Blind the seeking eye.

I quote in silence..

Then rises the penitent storm,
That none can see
It confers upon the great will,
The grant of truth and more to sense.

I still quote in silence..

The roses in sin,
The matters of the heart,
The brevity of unknown pleasures
Blind the seeking eye.

An inch of pain,
The touch of assurance,
The conceit of love
Blind the seeking eye.

Pebbles in the air

Pebbles in the ‘air’
What are they worth?
Their life is meant to end on the sand
Much like it began.

They exist and continue to
until the blue light annihilates
They wait and seek the destructor
For it doesn’t matter

But it must hurt to be buried.
Even the golden caress is no lure
For they can see no soft – voiced maiden
Calling out, embracing the lost matter

They see the waves dash across, sometimes
Leaving a scar behind
The cold, sometimes ignites
Sometimes, just burns them out

They feel unusually complex on a rainy day,
When the damp roots pull within
They gather what they can
And run towards shelter

Wretched songs they manage to hum,
The tunes that the winds abhor
They sing in ignorance of their true self
They sing to forgive.

In the world of learners and teachers

As a child, I remember how possessive I was about my polished, evil looking, wooden scale. When my mother used to be busy in the kitchen and dad used to be out for work, I would passionately hit the sofa seats pretending they were my students.
Yes, as every other child, I wanted to be a teacher. A teacher personified power, poise, knowledge - a conglomerate of attributes that i wanted to pursue.
My grandfather was a Math Professor. His sister, worked as a science teacher in a school and my aunt is a head of the department for math in a well established school in Delhi.They are gifted with patience and skill, I have gathered. This sort of a background might have influenced me to think so highly of teaching, as a profession.
I also happened to have some of the best teachers at school, who were not only knowledgeable about their subjects, but were also passionate about helping their students to attain great heights. They instilled in me, the values of hardwork, respect and ambition, which have shaped my life.
However, the best teacher I have ever had, is my dad.
When i recall those moments, I have spent with him, crunching numbers into my calculator, learning about fractions, discussing economy, I am filled with pride, for no particular reason. He used to be as passionate about getting an answer right, as i used to be, as a high school student. He used to be as nervous as I was, before an exam. We would plan out work, for a week and stick to schedules, then.We would cling on to difficult problems for ages, sometimes. We used to fight over methods. We used to engage in long discussions about math exams, once i was done with them.
When I became old enough to call myself,an adult, I realized, I have gained much more than problem solving capabilities and I crave to be what my father has been to me.

EVIL

Guarded by the know-alls,
This world’s so beautiful
Flickering hope and discovery
And fire blazing through.

Here, the craving mind finds the altar,
Roars with pride, yet in symphony
Visualizes the pinnacle that none can see
And uplifts spirits and fancy.

Yet, in this path of the ultimate,
Crippled is the self
Subdued and assaulted
By the image of the righteous.

Then I wonder in horror- Is the evil in me or around?

Vicious thoughts then encompass my fragile mind
Sodden and lost- by whims,
It struggles to win ‘thee’
And everybody!

But they identify me, just as matter,
Pretending their values to be absolute.
They negate the existence of the ‘other’,
While their poverty stricken soul watches aghast.

Then I wonder in horror- Is the evil in me or around?

I dig up the graves of ugly wounds
Just to stare and gasp..
Load it with some more ‘red’
And watch the pain in motion.

Then I wonder in horror – Is the evil in me or around?
Then I wonder in horror – Is the evil in me or around?

Nothingness

An abyss I see at a distance,
Mocking at the beam of light.
It knows not the splendid dream
It surrenders to the crave, within.

It nods in approval to the failed saints
Their penance count only in the heaven.
They rush, they pray, they give away in dismay
It’s poise strengthens the will to depart.

An abyss I see at a distance
Watching scornfully, the saga of survival.
It cares for its reign and so shall you see
While it provokes the serene mind.


It gathers dust and smoke under the sun,
And lauds the martyrs with contempt.
They reach the crest and fade away
So, it dances for the rueful song.

I stand and stare at the abyss
As it triumphs over me.
It is no more at a distance
It’s now fueling its glory.

The Time Traveller

Through the flood of wanton sight,
he soars past the stars.
The one who challenges the might
of those who laughs at his scars.

He sails the vast blue skies,
free of space and time;
Desolate fury and fright he fights
to clean the seas of their slime.

Rays of light he strings in his bow
and battles against every chance,
Riding the void and every hollow,
to fill them with the shine of his lance.

The savior of fate and glory is he,
beholder of respect and fame;
He was, he is and he is to be:
The time traveller, or so is his claim!

Life, the Universe and Everything

If you are an atheist over the age of thirty, this article is not for you. This is because I believe that once you are thirty you have passed that critical age beyond which your opinions on matters such as these are so full of conviction that new ideas just bounce off you without causing so much as a dent.

Why do men today choose to not believe in God? We have these so called ‘rational thinkers’ and ‘men of science’ who publish papers after analyzing what they observe using the complicated process of absurdo ad reductum! This is a reasonable approach as far as the sciences of everyday occurrence go but when applied to something people witness after several lifetimes of devotion (or determination) it fails miserably. Again we come to the question - Why do men today choose to not believe in God? They think it is a problem in statistics. They ask half a billion people around the globe – Have you seen God? And they reply – No. There you have it – QED! No one has ever seen God: hence he doesn’t exist. It is, in fact a statistical problem. The sample space is too small; you need to ask this question to all humans on earth for several centuries before you get a reasonable number of people who say they have. The ratio will still be astonishingly small (No small thanks to the atheists).

The argument they propound has such a gaping fallacy. It is like wondering if a star of a certain brightness and mass exists somewhere across the universe. It is impossible to prove its existence unless you spend two billion dollars and thirty earth years in a spaceship. But suppose there is a willing astronaut and funding from some rich fool. The man travels across space, sees the star and returns when he is ninety. He proclaims to the world – I have seen the star; it really exists! Hardly anyone is ready to believe him. Where is the proof? How can we be sure his descriptions are to be trusted? The pictures he has here may have been taken in any other part of the universe. And so on…He gives up trying to convince them and says – If you want to know the truth, go find it yourself! Of course no one bothers with the effort. They are content with not believing. Today, we lack men of faith. Just have faith and put your heart and soul into it and you will achieve what you desire. You will see God - that’s what our forefathers said. It is well worth the effort.

Thief!

"The chill is in the nightly air", he mused
though t'was his heart that was cold,
As he set out on a forlorn path unused
towards that cursed house so old.

Two and forty years of age was he,
a good thirty more were they;
His masters were the village couple;
he was their servant by day.

Now upon his agile toes he slunk,
for the lighted window he made;
There by the lamp sat she
polishing the golden idol of its fade.

Smitten by greed was he at this
blinded by malign was he;
The thief in him leaped in joy
Now a murderer he was to be!

He raised the shaft and drew the knife
forward still he crept,
But alas! he missed his hold on it,
when onto the window sill he leapt!

Maybe it was the noise, or god above
that woke up the old man in the hall.
He snatched up his bow at once,
and thus at the traitor he shot, knife and all!

With a noiseless scream of pain he fell,
down to the realm of remorse he flew
Into dark, fading shades of hell;
as the world around him withdrew.

Under the Australian Sky

I met a doc- an Indian- Australian, in 'Canby'.Her husband, a researcher at my uni, works with AI,which is well beyond the boundaries that my commerce brain can take me.
This association, to say the least,has brought me
-close to the life, i have been curious about...
-brought me to understand 'bogons' ( somebody who is dressed pathetically, only good enough to drink n make merry) and 'cozzie' ( a swimming costume!!)
- appreciate the dark forests n scary bushes
- be conscious abt the running tap n the bushfires
- and most importantly, to be INDEPENDENT
Yesterday, I learnt how to fill up petrol into a car and wash it - something I would have never learnt in Bangalore.
I was also introduced to the concept of barbeque.. we went to the river side, paddled in the water, cooked food in the dark, ate without having the slightest clue about the bread, salad, tofu n cooked vegetables.... under the moonlight(while incessantly spraying the mosquito repellent.) The drive back home was absolutely refreshing but got me very very nostalgic. I quietly prayed and struck a deal with the moon. I promised him a rendevous with the one i love under the same sky.
I like the light that the first dawn is bringing in. I hope the warmth, does not turn into heat, though.

A high school essay: Mini Forest

There is a park near my house called 'mini-forest'. Having 4 sub-parks in all, mini-forest stretches from the outer ring road to the inner ring road. It has proved a boon for the residents of the J P Nagar 3rd phase locality, which is an otherwise not-so-green area. I have lived in this locality for most part of my life, yet never have seen a change so diverse in anything here, but this park.

The virgin park is one which had scores of eucalyptus trees. This version of the park is long gone now. The first hint of change came with the change of management of the 'tree-gardeners'. The new staff were better, and they had benches installed, a swanky green fence, and gates too. They cleared the park of the weeds, and cleared the ground for kids to play and cycle around. One could smell the fresh eucalyptus oil from the trees. This fragrance drew many old people and morning joggers. There was a time for kitty parties amongst the ladies, and a fun competition every month. We had won a rangoli competition once!

Then came a stage when the gardeners and the management got tired with the general noise. The children broke fences, some broke windows of nearby houses with their games of cricket. Vandals snapped up twigs and branches and set them afire. The paths were strewn with eucalyptus leaves, and the management had the situation out of their hands.

With the change in Karnataka's political scene came the much needed breath of fresh air for the residents of J P Nagar. Kumaraswamy's house is close to mini-forest, and his wife is an avid naturalist. She was approached by a troop of J P Nagar housewives, and thus money was sanctioned for the improvement of the park. New fences were planted, old trees cut down, ground leveled and engineered for walking, lawns grown, cobblestone pathways built, keep-off-grass signs erected... this park had had a sea of change compared to its first humble beginnings.

One fine day, the park was thrown open to the public, with an inaugurating function hosted by the residents. Cakes and lemon squash were distributed, and the children never stopped smiling. The whole area was lit up with the newly installed lamps. Since then, there has been no looking back. Innovations were continued, and the park now has a yoga-area, a gym corner, a mini stage for small functions, a well maintained lawn cover, paths with benches and well maintained signs and a children's play area.

I too go jogging there every now and then with a friend. I hope this park continues to become better every year. Maybe some day in life, I will come here with my kids, take them to the play area. Sit on the bench there with my wife, and talk of old days, when I used to go jogging with my friend, talking about all the insane topics in our lives, and fighting about Mercedes and Bentleys and iMacs!

My Grandmother: A 'Simple' Woman

There is freshness in old wine too. Take my grand mom for instance. Her ideas have always been out of the box, mainly because she had not a clue what the box was in the first place. A new saree for the bride- ask granny. Decoration of the 'green-room' at the wedding hall- granny's responsibility. She is older than most other grannys, with reference to my age of course, but I guess it's me that feels young when she's around.

But this has all changed. Granny has not been well for some time now. She had a violent attack of dehydration following a stomach upset, and she's never gotten better. This had even thrown the doctors into a spin, because there was little they could do to get such an aged body back on track. But miraculously, after struggling through stages of 'life' when she couldn't even crawl let alone walk on her own, she is healthy now.

My granny is the best. This I do not just say in the tone of any man who'd of course feel that his own granny is the best. It is a matter of acute disbelief to the doctor who treated her, that my granny has reached a stage of health she is in now. Not going into details of her medical progress (which I do not know properly myself), I'd say it was her habits that came to her rescue. She was never a one who had skipped a meal. She always brushed her teeth, though toothpaste was unheard of in her time. She kept matters of life just as she felt they should be- short and simple. She had had several children, but never went through a lean phase even during her menopause. She was always a person who one could count on to cheer him up, because she liked to talk things in the light of God, and actually convince a person of things like that through sheer innocence of belief.

If I am asked to sum up in a line what I have learnt of life through my granny, I'd say its 'simplicity of thought'. Never complicate things if they can be solved through simple means. This alone can lead to peace of mind in our old age, and keep us from feeling guilty of having done something wrong, long after we have lost the means to correct it.

MaNaGE as a MANAGER

Carlson, a Spanish researcher and a pioneer in management came up with a study to understand managerial behavioral patterns.He documented several aspects of a manager's functions and their impacts.

I found that his study and those of his colleagues were extremely relevant to what i had observed in my work environment.

Researchers have observed that there is a gap between that which the classical management theories advocate and what is practical and routine for a manager. For example, there is more to a manager's functions than just planning, organizing, coordinating, directing, staffing, controlling and coordinating.It is more like pilot training, where job training is essential, inspite of the involvement of the theoritical aspects.

Carlson talks about the number of interruptions that a manager has to face during his work and the nature of the work load. I can easily link this phenomenon with the manager of accounts in SBT. He had very little undisturbed time to carry out his routine activities ( daily transactions), thanks to the number of people lining up in front of his desk for various payments. This meant, he had even lesser time to direct people around him, monitor or allocate resources effectiently.
I completely agree with Carlson where he mentions how this could affect the job as well as the individual. As per his analysis, this phenomenon could lead to 'intellectual isolation' and affect his family and personal life.

Managing is more about being responsive, rather than analytical -Stewart, another management guru mentions. But i believe, it is all about multitasking. It is about being able to compartmentalize not only resources, but one's brain to accomadate several aspects of the work in an organization.

In fact, this ideaology could be utilized in daily lives as students, or mothers, or while carrying out different responsibilites in differenct chairs.

Pink Floyd

There is a certain magic to music. It speaks what words cannot. It says what the heart says, and not the brain bullies the mouth to!

It also adds that extra kick of adrenalin to express the most severe shocks of life. Period. This has always been the most popular genre of music. Yes, my favorite too. There's Pink Floyd, Metallica, Pink Floyd, Iron Maiden, Rammstein, Pink Floyd, System of a Down, oh, and did I mention Pink Floyd?

Below is a song from the masters of Rock, the Fathers of 'Psychedelic' music; Pink Floyd's "Time". The music is weirdly haunting..... wakes you up inside sort of. One cannot 'like' a Pink Floyd song. He is a devotee of the band. The lyrics in this one bring tears to my eyes everytime I listen to it.

Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way

Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain
You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today
And then one day you find ten years have got behind you
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun

And you run and you run to catch up with the sun, but it's sinking
Racing around to come up behind you again
The sun is the same in a relative way, but you're older
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death

Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way
The time has gone, the song is over, thought I'd something more to say

Home, home again
I like to be here when I can
When I come home cold and tired
It’s good to warm my bones beside the fire
Far away across the field
The tolling of the iron bell
Calls the faithful to their knees
To hear the softly spoken magic spells.

The mood is set perfectly in the first minute, where ticking of clocks is heard. Followed by gentle guitaring. Glorious.

jokes apart!

10000 dinars and a sentence was what a guy in Morocco earned after he posed as King Mohammad IV's brother on facebook.
The judge seems to have been mesmerized by what the virtual world can offer... and so am I.
Human rights activists from Amnesty International are saying, the sentence is inappropriate. The false image is a joke and is played by many.
Looking at the other side,
Does this kind of deceit in revealing one's identity, cause any harm to the society in general? Is there anything wrong about the new fantastical world that provides room to become 'another' , with a click on the mouse? Can one really 'network' through a false identity?
When we observe the number of relationships that internet can foster.. it is truly amazing. But what happens when the person you know does not know exist in reality? I believe, such a situation is just more than a dissapointment. I think it is equivalent to a feeling you get sometimes when you feel, this world we live in, is not real.
The way it looks,this sentence may soften one's appetite to be a celebrity by adopting another's identity in Morocco, though the punishment is harsh and difficult to digest.

A creed, some thoughts!

Australian resident Indians - confused, riches- loving, uncaring, wretched souls???
Not really. Of course, they are a creed of varied nature, like any. Yet, some characteristics are worthy of note.
My analysis reveals that they are still bound to India- each individual clinging to a different string. They take interest in sports, like the natives- to the extent that they personalize activities like fishing, camping, skiing, sailing- that which are unheard of, in India. Some even
follow rigid timetables which includes an ealy dinner ( 7:00 PM!!).
They are mostly hardworking. They do more than 1 job sometimes, to keep the big bucks rolling in. The women in the families face very little barriers. But the responsibilies do not depreciate. They are effecient, part- time homemakers, socializers and career- oriented individuals.
The kids, with their Australian accented English often overwhelm their parents with questions. Fortunately, the internet is at their disposal!
Thats a short description of the indivduals...nothing more!

Little daunting errands!

The other day, my mother needed me to buy her medicines. This of course isn't a tough task, given that i have a bike, and there are half a dozen medical stores within a stone's throw of my house. But here's the catch... she needed "womens' medicines" and she also wanted sanitary napkins. Now that's downright embarrassing for a guy of my age to walk up the steps of the shop and demand such things! Wearing my heart on my sleeve, like Gandalf in LOTR, I set out with firm resolve, quoting in my mind different versions of the dialog I'd have with the chemist. Well rehearsed, I strode purposefully up to him and made my request. Shockingly, he wasn't the least nonplussed with this, and treated this situation like any other. So much for all the fish!

Might of the Mirage

Behind their hooded faces of lies,
There is a facade of an evasive smile.
Can this their mirth idealize?
Life and lies they deem facile!

False hope they foster within;
The spark of light is no more bright
than the chance of fate; Ever in sin,
Yet they don't give in without a fight!

Thin lipped satire never awakens
to the need of want and lust.
The looming towers of greed and might
belittle the urge to lie beneath the crust!

Feigning death and glory they strive
to swallow the darkness of dismay;
Yes, darkness they need to bury their dread
More than they need the mirage to light their way!

LOTR: A descriptive dream

The Lord of the Rings is an exceptional series of books, which have long captivated peoples' fantasies. These were written decades ago, but still holds everyone in awe. JRR Tolkien has indeed created a masterpiece, which can never be imitated even, let alone paralleled.

Below is an excerpt from "LOTR: The Two Towers". Gimli is a dwarf, Legolas an elf. Dwarves and Elves were at war for a very long time, but these two are good friends. Elves are extraordinary beings, with long lives, fair skin and quick magic. Dwarves on the other hand are geniuses at handiwork. They are very good diggers, and own many of the world's precious stones and gems in their possession. They carve out entire cities from mountains, burrowing into the ground to create magnificent caves and tunnels,all richly decorated. I have picked out a slice of the book, which clearly places Tolkien above all others in descriptive imagination.

'Then that is the most perilous wood in Middle-earth,' said Gimli. 'I should be grateful for the part they have played, but I do not love them. You may think them wonderful, but I have seen a greater wonder in this land, more beautiful than any grove or glade that ever grew: my heart is still full of it. 'Strange are the ways of Men, Legolas! Here they have one of the marvels of the Northern World, and what do they say of it? Caves, they say! Caves! Holes to fly to in time of war, to store fodder in! My good Legolas, do you know that the caverns of Helm's Deep are vast and beautiful? There would be an endless pilgrimage of Dwarves, merely to gaze at them, if such things were known to be. Aye indeed, they would pay pure gold for a brief glance!'

'And I would give gold to be excused,' said Legolas; 'and double to be let out, if I strayed in!'

'You have not seen, so I forgive your jest,' said Gimli. 'But you speak like a fool. Do you think those halls are fair, where your King dwells under the hill in Mirkwood, and Dwarves helped in their making long ago? They are but hovels compared with the caverns I have seen here: immeasurable halls, filled with an everlasting music of water that tinkles into pools, as fair as Kheled-zâram in the starlight.

'And, Legolas, when the torches are kindled and men walk on the sandy floors under the echoing domes, ah! then, Legolas, gems and crystals and veins of precious ore glint in the polished walls; and the light glows through folded marbles, shell-like, translucent as the living hands of Queen Galadriel. There are columns of white and saffron and dawn-rose, Legolas, fluted and twisted into dreamlike forms; they spring up from many-coloured floors to meet the glistening pendants of the roof: wings, ropes, curtains fine as frozen clouds; spears, banners, pinnacles of suspended palaces! Still lakes mirror them: a glimmering world looks up from dark pools covered with clear glass; cities. such as the mind of Durin could scarce have imagined in his sleep, stretch on through avenues and pillared courts, on into the dark recesses where no light can come. And plink! a silver drop falls, and the round wrinkles in the glass make all the towers bend and waver like weeds and corals in a grotto of the sea. Then evening comes: they fade and twinkle out; the torches pass on into another chamber and another dream. There is chamber after chamber, Legolas; hall opening out of hall, dome after dome, stair beyond stair; and still the winding paths lead on into the mountains' heart. Caves! The Caverns of Helm's Deep! Happy was the chance that drove me there! It makes me weep to leave them.'

The Pleasures of Gardening

‘Darelle, thank you so much!’, aunty exclaimed. Fidgeting with a pin in my hand, I smiled graciously.
‘ That man is very hard working’, she continued.

Darelle was mowing the lawn, a few minutes earlier, while I was discovering the garden.

When I stayed in Banashankari in Bangalore, I had had a huge garden too. I remember a very talkative gardener unloading large amounts of fertilisers to enhance productivity. I also remember my parents incessantly complaining how the coconut tree would never grow in spite of the nourishment.
Except during the times when I had spent time holding a pipe, watering and removing jasmines or hibiscus flowers from the captivity of their parents, I had no emotional attachment with the vast space in front of my house.

Ironically, today, I spent admiring the lemons, mangoes and strawberries magnificently growing in their space in aunty’s garden. I helped her remove weeds, shift pots and jumped on the soft grass enjoying the rain. It was splendid.

Talking of Mr. Darelle now – He is not a gardener. He had not received any money for his work. Just respect. He works with uncle and drives a truck. Yet, he holidays abroad frequently and is apparently, a multimillionaire!!

I was stunned when aunty told me his story. He had worked for the government for forty years and after retirement, had received a lot of money. He did odd jobs, not for money, but satisfaction.
She told me, he even spends time in the church working in the garden there, when he is free.

She concluded her story with the most suitable conclusion – ‘ What he does, is truly, a form of worship!’

Jaggesh!

This is the man. The man with a tan. The man with fans. The man who can. The man who ran. The inimitable Jaggesh at his best! Ladies and gentlemen, here's a cut from the movie 'Shivanna'.

Speed

Adapting to speed has never been man's problem. Or creating it. Pushing the limits of processor clock cycles and internet connectivity have been two of the main contributions in creating a faster and closer world. Perhaps we can learn a bit from this, comparing the phenomenon with life's philosophies.

The situation now is such that we have reached such heights in technology that processor speed is no longer a hindrance for computations. In fact, we are yet t think of applications for these super-fast yet cheap processors. The focus of late has been on the development of 'dual core' processors, which better manage data, without further pushing the speed limit.Thus too in life, we sometimes feel that time just flies by. Things happen too fast, and what's more, we can push them even further. But we must pause and think, "Hold on a second, am I going in the right direction? Perhaps I have built enough momentum, now I have got to channelize it in the right direction."

Likewise, the internet connections are more than sufficient for our daily use, there is no point making the speed better in most cases. But no, we always a faster and more expensive connections, without regard to the use. What a waste! An analogy to life would be, "Maintain a reasonable scale between the resources used to the output produced. 'Fuel efficiency' is the motto of the day!"

The Political Turmoil in Karnataka

Source: www.viewspaper.com, Author: Nanda Kishore

The political scenario in Karnataka is dominated by 3 parties: The Indian National Congress, Janata Dal (secular) and The Bharatiya Janata Party.In the 2004 election results, no party held a simple majority in the house. Though the BJP had the most number of seats, the Congress and JD(s) obtained a majority through a coalition. It was headed by the then chief minister Dharam Singh (Congress) and deputy CM Siddaramaiah (JD(s)). This coalition ended in 2006. When the BJP and JD(s) formed a clever coalition, on a power sharing basis, taking over power for 20 months, each. Each party would have its candidate as the CM for the specified duration. The coalition started off with Mr. H.D.Kumaraswamy from JD(s) as the CM with B.S. Yedyurappa of the BJP as the deputy CM.All was well for the first 20 months of the coalition tenure, until time came for the power to be transferred to the BJP. The JD(s) refused to hand over the reins to the BJP, alleging it to be a ‘communal’ party. The JD(s) supremo and ex-PM, Mr.H.D.Devegowda, was quite obviously the person pulling the strings for this power struggle.Meanwhile, President’s rule was imposed.The credibility of the JD(s) started falling by the day. The BJP demanded fresh elections as this was the only way out. Meanwhile, trouble started brewing within the JD(s) camp, as some members were clearly distraught with the selfishness of H.D. Devegowda.This rebel faction led by Mr. Prakash, ex-deputy CM, threatened to leave the JD(s) camp, and enter into the Congress fold. With the BJP hankering around for a new mandate, and its credibility at an all time low, it would have been impossible to gather as many seats as the last time, so the JD(s) resorted to a ‘U’ turn in its stand, and agreed to support the BJP, despite the said allegations.Yeddyurappa was sworn in among much fanfare, with the south receiving its first BJP CM. However, the BJP’s happiness was not to last.The father-son duo of Devegowda and H.D.Kumaraswamy refused to support a floor test for the BJP in the State parliament. And with barely a week having gone by, Yeddyurappa resigned preferring not to face the floor test which would have turned out to be humiliating. It resulted in the imposition of the President’s rule yet again.Fresh elections were speculated to occur before May, but the Congress has objected to it as they feel time is not enough to woo the people who, after the fiasco, have their sympathy towards the BJP. The JD(s) is struggling hard to stage a comeback after being responsible for the mud-slinging and their selfish intentions, but with the Prakash faction, which recently joined the Congress, the JD(s) has received a serious blow.The citizens are hoping for elections to occur soon, but with the Congress and JD(s) trying their best to postpone them, the possibility seems bleak. The BJP, however, riding high on their success after the elections in Uttarakhand and Gujarat, hopes to continue the trend in the south by obtaining a clear cut majority.

Good Morning ... Radio!

After the government began to provide licenses for air time blocks, the radio has become an essential part of our cosmopolitan lives. The auto wallah, the college- goer, the commuter and the shop keeper- all indulge their time in the spice of music and endless chatter.

Our RJ’s, keen to hold the attention of their listeners, don’t ever seem to lose their enthusiasm. They babble into their mikes in zest- stricken voices about the city, hold contests, entertain callers and offer advices. That is the kind of entertainment that has gained tremendous popularity and approval among the masses.

When I had attended a conference by A P Parigi, CEO and MD of ENIL (handles radio mirchi) about two years back, he had announced with fear, the entry of his competitors and its probable consequences. He had talked about the research that was carried out every week, by his company inorder to understand the needs of the listeners and thereby maintain the audience for their channel. He had presented a chart outlining what people in the cities, would mostly do at a particular time. These studies, supposedly, had helped the company to stay on its toes and offer programs that were suitable to a wide section of the society.

What I learnt through this was that -Music is big business, and so is any other form of entertainment. To know the extent of the radio raj, all we would need to do is change 12 channels ( in Bangalore) on our radio sets.

Brand ' rationalism' or feeling blue?

When I was in Australia, I spent the last few months just before the exams, buying clothes and accessories. It's anybody's guess that i had taken enough of them when i had left my dear land. But what was so unique about this expedition of mine, was the fact that this act is explained by ' misery not miserly' phenomenon.
That's exactly what an artcile on NDTV's website reported. It is believed that during depressed times, buyers are ready to pour more money than usual on shopping. It is believed that sadness has the ability to trigger different emotions that drive one towards being a spendthrift.The growing self- focus is considered the primary reason. And advertisers and psychologists have documented this phenomenon, much for their benifit.
Mc Donald's jingle ' You deserve a break today!' in the 1970's can be quoted as an example.
It is amazing how one can relate to Consumer behaviour ( a branch of marketing). Now, when i think of it, I realize that i have always known my friends to indulge in cosmetics or bags or slippers, especially, when they are feeling blue. One of my very close friends always told me ,'When you see me getting depressed, remind me to go and have a hair cut!!'
In fact,unaware of this phenomenon, while i was budgeting for my stay this time, I had a different category included-' the depression easer'!

There's this things about mothers. 20 years of careful observation has had me believe that the maternal instinct is so strong, its almost capable of telekinesis! Just yesterday i remembered to shut the back door, even without my mom having told me to. Coax, cajole... this is maternal instinct. Freakishly, though I just got up, even now my thoughts are on "Oh boy, how'll I manage to talk on the phone when I get back home?" or "Sumanth, why haven't you finished up breakfast?"

But we all love our moms. At least i love mine :). The ever-sacrificing, ever-watchful, ever-ready race of motherhood is never out of vogue. The goddess beyond all religions. The person who personifies 'Mother' in 'Motherland'. The person who cries when she's sad, and cries harder when she's happy.

"Let's Make A Deal"

There's a game show called "Let's Make A Deal". The game is very simple. There are three doors: door #1, door #2, and door #3. Behind one door is a million dollars. The other two doors contain worthless joke prizes. All you have to do is pick which door you want to open, and you get whatever is behind it. But you only get to open one door. By simple math, then, you obviously have a 1 in 3 chance of picking the correct door and becoming an instant millionaire.

You pick a door. As soon as you tell Monty (the game show host) what door you want to open, he stops and says, "Okay, you've made your choice. I'm going to open one of the other two doors for you that I know has a booby prize." And he does so. Then he asks, "Okay, now, would you like to stay with your original guess, or would you like to switch to the other door that's still closed? You only get one shot, so do you want to stay with your original choice, or switch?"

Here's the question: is there any compelling reason to switch doors?

To be clear, there is no trickery, and Monty is not cheating. Furthermore, the money has not moved, will not be moved, and if you open the right door, you win the cash. Money is either behind the door you first picked, or behind the remaining unopened door. Should you switch?

Logically speaking, this seems obvious to anyone: you can switch if you want to, but it makes no difference. Monty has just eliminated one of your choices. Now you're down to two. You didn't know what was behind the doors before, and by opening one of them, you still don't know what's behind the other two. Your odds are 50/50 no matter which door you choose. So, switch or don't, it makes no difference.

Perfectly sensible, right? Absolutely. But it's dead wrong.

The surprising answer is that you should switch doors.

You are probably reading this and nodding--and then you're thinking to yourself, "No, that's not right. There really is no reason to switch. You can if you want to, or if you think there's cheating going on, but in a pure game, it's 50/50! You've gotten rid of one of the doors is all!"

But if you try it empirically, you'll find that if you stay with your original guess, you'll lose two times out of three. If you switch, you'll win two times out of three. By showing you an empty door after your first choice, Monty's given you information. Your original choice had only a 1 in 3 chance of being right. Odds were 2 to 1 that the money was behind one of the other two doors--and he just showed you which of the other two doors was empty.

It's not my cup of tea!

Relishing hot bondaas ( veg patties?), sipping an intoxicating cup of filter coffee and listening to a romantic number from the latest bollywood flick - was the way I would spend a cool, rainy day in Bangalore. ( yen maja!). My cushiony sofa would just add to my comforts on such a pleasant day.

My mom would cook other delicious eatables while I watched from a distance. Her patience or interest in culinary activities didn’t affect me much.

When I descended on a foreign land, spectacular changes took place.
To say the least, I could enlist my ‘Discoveries in time’ after about two months of my stay in Australia.

I recall with splendid clarity, the way I had entered the kitchen in my hall, for the first time - ripe with anticipation and longing to engage in food preparation. Even the stench of raw meat failed to deter my spirits. What I didn’t care to process, was the fact that I would not only have to cook but cook, mighty well, to keep my spirits high.

In a week, I learnt, that I had failed terribly at this activity. I would not get the number of chillies right or the precise amount of sugar or salt to be added. I would sometimes make the upma soggy and uneatable, sometimes end up making the sambar too watery.

Thankfully, before I starved myself in the pursuit of making delicious food, I began to be mentored by some friends. During these sessions, I would involuntarily recall my mom’s warnings of how I would suffer if I didn’t take enough interest in cooking.

The learner in me would emerge in the kitchen (expertly chopping onions) on certain days. On other days, one would see me slouched in a corner soothing my stomach with milk and corn flakes.

Such was the saga of an inexperienced cook in the midst of academic and social pressures – a saga that extended for about three months.

When I saw the first ray of hope, I had had a pan full of sabji, carrying an aroma in all directions in the same kitchen, at about midnight. The relief was paramount. I had finally learnt to cook.

It turned out, after all, that I could never utter ‘It’s not my cup of tea!’ again!