Blur

Your heart pounds, your ears throb, you eyes are almost closed, you can feel the wind making you feel light, heady. You don't know what's left, right, right ahead or what you left behind. You forget the past, the present, future. You forget all about classes. About the lectures you've bunked, about what you want to eat, about the cigarette you smoked, the whiskey from last night, the chick from 3 ks behind, the girl you broke up with, the place you're going. All you can concentrate on is nothingness. It's obscure. It doesn't exist. The very fabric of life unfolds in front of you. You see god, you feel the glory of heaven and the fury of hell all at once. You want to think of a song to sing, but nothing comes to mind. A movie to remember but all goes blank. You become an ascetic, everything is a blur and yet so much more clear... Everything is oblivion. Reality as you know it, ceases to exist.... On a bike beyond the 100 barrier.... :)

Darkness.......

It exists,

in life and in death

darkness in life hath no name,

t'is never spoken of, never known

in death it is but death itself..

What an age we live in, where foes,

can do nothing but smile and pose..

Where concealment is now a virtue, never a sin.

Where the truth and lies live together as kin...

Evil and goodness, are now in the same mark,

my question to you is, in the light or in the dark?

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:P, a random collection of words.. it's exam time, go study....

This is Freedom of Press?

Journalism:- The occupation of reporting, writing, editing, photographing, or broadcasting news or of conducting any news organization as a BUSINESS.

This is a country where truth counts for nothing anymore. This is one of those countries where no-one knows what really happened, where journalists who shed tears win awards, where opinions are treated as final word, where the media is a primetime soap opera. We live in a society, biased and opinionated, where the media is the new law. Broadcasting sentiments, it is simply a new way for television to lease advertising space. If we live in a society that is truly by the people, for the people and of the people, let the people decide for themselves what to ascertain from the facts. Is it possible that freedom of press is going too far? When the press endanger lives, invade privacy, form sentiments based on which side they support? How can we even decide anymore what’s right and what’s wrong? When we live in a hypocritical society that is “free” and is still spoon-fed opinions by “leading news channels”? Do we really need this anymore? It’s all just a business, run by corporates only hoping to get trp’s, making us live in this zeitgeist. India, and all the other countries in the world, wake up! This is the information age, this is an age where some goon sitting in the USA knows when a Chinese guy’s searching for tank man, relays it to china who promptly make him disappear to work in a paddy field for the government. This is an age where terrorists from “Third world nations” can access technology, get a map of Washington DC and blow it up. Do we really need this anymore? Do we need media moguls governing our actions? If this is a democracy, where am I? A small plea to every budding journalist out there. You’re job is simple, relay facts, let people decide for themselves. We’re sick of sensationalization, of suicide cases of 15 years ago, of journalists giving commentary of anti-terror operations and endangering lives. We’re sick of all of you messing with our lives, our privacy and our sense to deduce things. We don’t want you to try to rule our lives, we don’t want you to tell us that Sania Mirza’s engagement was broken off in the headlines of the newspaper. We want to know the news, not the drama of the lives of people that actually have them. To every anti-communist that exists in the world, congratulations, you’ve just woken up to your worst nightmare. This time, it isn’t Mao, Che or the CPIM. Welcome to the media!

Ah, the hypocracy of democracy...

"What do you do, when you're world opens up?

What do you do, when you're free to express yourself?

What do you do, when you feel empowered enough to represent the people?

What do you do, when you know in your words, there lies strength?

What do you do, when you have the power to change what you need to?

What do you do, when you have a voice, the power to be heard?

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What do you do, when it's all taken away?

What do you do, when the same people that gave you that voice, stab you in the back?

What do you do, when you're closed, shut out from the world?

When you're constrained, and can't write for what you believe in anymore?

The sheep cries to alert the others against the wolf, not to lead the wolf to the sheep's den....

R.I.P.

I am "The Procrastinator"

Astala-XP baby!! For those of you who did not understand that lame attempt at humour, it ws supposed to be a take on the Terminator and his most famous line. Yes, holidays are here again, and as usual, i am stuck in a conundrum of what to do. That's when I came upon a suitable epitaph. And for those of you who are querying my sudden use of high fangled jargon, it is merely due to the fact that i'm extremely bored, and trying to find out the meaning of words using google as my dictionary. As you can clearly see, I am but the very definition of procrastination itself. Given below are the top 10 things you can do to wile away your time on one of those lazy one month vacations.

1.) Throw a ball and watch your canine companion run and fetch it, then throw it again marvelling how easy it is to live a dog's life.

2.) View a cinematograph that you have already witnessed umpteen number of times not because of it's feel good factor, or academic/social relevance, but because it has a gratuitous serving of violence and language that isn't particularly well-received at su casa, oh yeah, and for some reason, the movie is also shit funny.

3.) Saw wood, feel a stupor for the sole reason that you slept too much, and then saw wood again.(for those of you who didn't get the Saw wood part, refer a thesaurus)

4.) My personal favourite, go ring your neighbour's doorbell and run away, if your gods are with you, you'll overhear him expostulating/execrating/"having an interesting discussion" with your household telling them to beware the psychopathic "door-bell ringing loony on the loose".

5.) Give your puppy whose teeth are just growing(ouch!) a newspaper and watch that little sucker go! (Particularly enjoyable for those who like to watch rampant destruction)

6.) Try to hypnotize yourself, get bored that it isn't happening and then fall asleep. Upon waking up, brag to your friends that you were successful, but forgot that you're supposed to give a command which you couldn't have done because you were asleep.

7.) Scheme up plans for getting treats from friends who unfortunately try to do the same thing.

8.) Try to play a very difficult guitar solo even though you know it's hopeless. (More time gets wasted on this than any other activity i swear, it's been 7 months at least, and i still can't play stairway to heaven's solo properly... Or for that matter, any solo properly!!)

9.) Write a blog, google up difficult words and then substitute them wherever possible.(At least till point number 5, then get bored and write point 10)

10.) Enjoy people's comments.

Till the next time i procrastinate, cheerio..

Farewell.

Two days ago, i suffered the biggest loss of my life. I had lost someone to me that was a protector, a friend and a part of the family. I still remember the glee with which 13 summers ago i saw her, a mere puppy of 5 months, as black as soot and quivering with fear at her new surroundings. Never once will I forget the words of my mother, "Look under the sofa.". And so it began, a closeness that will never ever be lost. At first sight, i fell in love, with those big brown expressive eyes of hers. The way she used to express her love for all us, and a love as unconditional as any mother can give her child, a love untainted by the impurities of the outside world, one free from corruption and evil. She simultaneously in one life-time acted as my sister and mother. In her early years, combatting for my mom's attention with me, it was almost like a kind of sibling rivalry. Slowly, as dogs always do, she started to age much quicker than me and eventually considered me like a son. She used to actually try to protect me from the servant when she used to sweep the room when i was sleeping in. The family itself went through many changes. One change that affected her the most was the arrival of the car. Her special treat used to be a ride in the car. The way her eyes used to light up at the mention of the word "Chengala" (malayalam word for leash), and following which she used to run after my dad to work her magic with those expecting eyes. She had her share of mischief in her as well, while earlier, she took a particular liking to shoes, plastic covers and enjoyed "marking her territory" in places she knew I'd step on. Later on, she took to turning the dustbing over and eating chicken bones, which were actually bad for her. It's funny how on my last trip home, she started living out a second childhood because i remember at least 2 instances where I stepped into..... Never mind. One of the biggest regrets, i think, of her life was that she could never have any pups. She used to sometimes climb into dark corners as though pretending that she was going to give birth. She would have made a fantastic mother i'm sure, the way she used to try to take care of me was enough proof of that. She died two days ago, from an un-known sickness after 3 hours of excruciating pain. Because i'm in hostel right now, I don't think the enormity of her death, nor the void that it has created in my home can be understood quite fully yet, but it has affected me deeply enough to write this blog post, the only one that really means something to me. This is to you Tinku, farewell.

The Fine Line between genius and insanity.

"This is the end, beautiful friend the end"
-Jim Morrison(Song The End)

"The killer awoke before dawn, he put his boots on
He took a face from the ancient gallery
And he walked on down the hall
He went into the room where his sister lived, and...then he
Paid a visit to his brother, and then he
He walked on down the hall, and
And he came to a door...and he looked inside
Father, yes son, I want to kill you
Mother...i want to...fuck you"
-Jim Morrison(Song The End)

Never in history have there been more flawed geniuses than in the western Music Industry. Madness, insanity, dementia, depression, alcohol and drug addiction, early deaths, but in common with each and everyone of these people was sheer genius. Jim Morrison will probably be remembered among his contemporaries as one of the most powerful songwriters of all time. Songs from the doors defined a new breed of psychedelic rock. Where Pink Floyd was all about the Music, the world had never quite heard lyrics as captivating and mesmerising as the ones in the songs of the doors sung by the Lazy Drone of Jim Morrison. But there was a hypnotic power in that voice, one that transcends generations and even today inspires many followers. But behind this genius lay troubles far greater than any of us ever could imagine. Morrison had a life full of conflicts, and in his last days was nothing but depressed. Till date no-one knows how he died. Murder, suicide and an accidental overdose the only possibilities.All 3 suggesting a life of great troubles. With him, we explore the possibility. Was the reason he was such a great artist, his troubles with life? He is but a small name, in a list full of such people. One of the most notable being Nirvana frontman Kurt Cobain. In all his songs, he seemed like a man who was on the very brink. Stoned with every performance, his drugs almost formed the basis for his songs. Anyone who's heard "Milk It" can safely say that no human being in his right mind would be able compose it. The whole song "which is just an ensemble of shrieks and moans" just sounds like Cobain in fits of agony. And IT WAS A HUGE HIT! That's right, no questions asked. It was impressionist, the same way picasso used to spray colours on canvas, the public liked it, it was a hit. Cobain, after a life battling addiction finally chose to end his own life by shooting himself in the head leaving behind a wife and child. The list is endless, Jimi Hendrix, John Lennon, Bon Scott.. So i'll leave you guys hanging on this one. Do you think it's their insanity, that made them musical geniuses? Ciao guys, have a nice time thinking about this one....