What brought us together might remain unspoken
What held us together might be worn off and broken
Even if your way was different as I felt was mine
Now I want our paths to cross
Waiting for my time…... (Sic)
EOP (end of post)
26 Jun 2006
25 Jun 2006
Number 1 vs. number 10
Writing a blog after so many days is more perplexed than jotting it down in a more regular manner, the difficulty is in putting affairs into a preferential order. I think I have two favorites when it comes to blog writing, one being Himesh Reshammiya and the other is Haryana’s heartland.
This time it’s no censure of the raw“king” music director, it’s not even the heart land, but the community that makes the soul of the heartland.
I had a trip to Chandigarh a few days back , before joining my job, and since then it has been weekly to and fro to the “Sehwag land”. But the things that strikes most is the difference in the junta(populations) of two parts of the same state, and, it is so contrasting that its hard to imagine that you are in the same state.
The route to Chandigarh, i.e. national highway number one is one of the best highways in the country and has almost all the facilities to match the world standards (but its junta like me, who haven’t seen the highways of SEZs in China, who say so!). Driving on this highway is a pleasure in itself, but not only driving car, the bus journey on this highway is equally good. The state roadways service provides with an ample of option like that of ordinary bus, deluxe bus or the newly launched Volvo air conditioned buses. This gives an option of how much big hole you want to burn in your wallet. The crowd in the AC and deluxe buses is so called up market one (though I too have traveled in these buses, but then….)
The buses on the other route i.e. highway ten are only ordinary ones and traveling in these buses is an experience in itself. The crowd in these buses , (please forgive me for these explicit content!!!). I somehow cannot distinguish between jaat junta of this place. All of them (pagdi and moustache and all) look all the same to me, unless I have some other discernible parameters like height, or whatever and every body carrying a bunch of bidis with him, where as the bus clearly follows apex court’s order by writing DHOOMRPAAN NISHEDH which aims to ban smoking in public places, but then who cares and with a 2 day old stubble, they seem as if they could do with a bath. They usually stand on the footboard and a very interesting characteristic which distinguishes them is that these people have a very special interest in everybody else’s business and they try to or in fact actually participate in all the road rage or fight between conductor and fellow passengers regarding chhuta(change) or stoppage of bus. And the questioning of these people is as if they are some embassy people and the other one is a visa applicant.
Another significant difference is in the content of language. The language, here, mainly consists of expletives and one gets into very awkward position if he is accompanied by a female.
A little deeper insight into the community will clearly explain the things, the economic globalisation has definitely made an impact on the economic structure of this community, but talking in social terms they are no better to what they were half a century ago and the mismatch between their ideologies and that of literate generation is clearly visible.
This time it’s no censure of the raw“king” music director, it’s not even the heart land, but the community that makes the soul of the heartland.
I had a trip to Chandigarh a few days back , before joining my job, and since then it has been weekly to and fro to the “Sehwag land”. But the things that strikes most is the difference in the junta(populations) of two parts of the same state, and, it is so contrasting that its hard to imagine that you are in the same state.
The route to Chandigarh, i.e. national highway number one is one of the best highways in the country and has almost all the facilities to match the world standards (but its junta like me, who haven’t seen the highways of SEZs in China, who say so!). Driving on this highway is a pleasure in itself, but not only driving car, the bus journey on this highway is equally good. The state roadways service provides with an ample of option like that of ordinary bus, deluxe bus or the newly launched Volvo air conditioned buses. This gives an option of how much big hole you want to burn in your wallet. The crowd in the AC and deluxe buses is so called up market one (though I too have traveled in these buses, but then….)
The buses on the other route i.e. highway ten are only ordinary ones and traveling in these buses is an experience in itself. The crowd in these buses , (please forgive me for these explicit content!!!). I somehow cannot distinguish between jaat junta of this place. All of them (pagdi and moustache and all) look all the same to me, unless I have some other discernible parameters like height, or whatever and every body carrying a bunch of bidis with him, where as the bus clearly follows apex court’s order by writing DHOOMRPAAN NISHEDH which aims to ban smoking in public places, but then who cares and with a 2 day old stubble, they seem as if they could do with a bath. They usually stand on the footboard and a very interesting characteristic which distinguishes them is that these people have a very special interest in everybody else’s business and they try to or in fact actually participate in all the road rage or fight between conductor and fellow passengers regarding chhuta(change) or stoppage of bus. And the questioning of these people is as if they are some embassy people and the other one is a visa applicant.
Another significant difference is in the content of language. The language, here, mainly consists of expletives and one gets into very awkward position if he is accompanied by a female.
A little deeper insight into the community will clearly explain the things, the economic globalisation has definitely made an impact on the economic structure of this community, but talking in social terms they are no better to what they were half a century ago and the mismatch between their ideologies and that of literate generation is clearly visible.
Times, are they surely changing.
7 Jun 2006
a tale of four brothers
I share a very close relationship with three (anku, minku, and monu) of my cousins, so close that we don’t cite each other as cousin; we are more like brothers, bhai!!!!! All four of have one thing common and that is we all had extrinsic factor of being intelligent types( meritorious)
All of us got birth into the right family. Our parents were pretty serious about our education and they wanted us to do well in academics.
They were financially capable of sending us to good school and we staye there for 12 long years
But all of us have something or other really great when it comes to our academic performances
Me and anku getting re appears three out of eight times in engineering
Minku cleared his class 10 and 12 with pathetic scores
All of us dropped an year to get admission into an engineering college
But the seeds of genious were within us from our childhood days
I and minku, since the very first day of school were considered “hopeless case” and that brought us even closer, although anku was admirable in his early days but he too became a part of our gang and relished the tikki, which so far was mine aand minku’s exclusive. Monu became a part of our alliance only after class 12 and left it to realize his dreams of becoming a respectable software engineer. Great, he succeeded in that!!!!!!!!!!
But there is always one aspect where I envy my brothers and that’s the department of kudiyaan!!!!!
Three of them always (from the time their relevance began) had a kudi or a good friend beside them, to befriend them, to cheer them, to console them but with me the things were a bit different (no pun intended)…………..
Due to certain behavioral mismatches, I was never comfortable with the girls in my class. They demanded I don't use foul language. They sprinkled any conversation with 'so sweet’, ' so cute' and such pink terms , which was in direct dissonance with the dude type metal head self image I fostered……….
And that continued during my graduation period too and eventually I lost the battle but God gave their luck ball in hands of Pakistani fast bowlers who with an absolute delight can make the old ball swing in right direction.
But koi baat nahi MERA NUMBER AAYEGA
Girls don’t fall for looks. They dig inner beauty. My intestines and kidneys are beautiful.
Kudi or no kudi what so special in us the never ending bond of sharing, caring…….
Small moments , moments of trust , moments of laughter , moments of teasing each other , a few moments of sadness , little moments………..
BANE CHAHE DUSHMAN ZAMAANA SAARA,
SALAAMAT RAHE DOSTANA HAMAARA
All of us got birth into the right family. Our parents were pretty serious about our education and they wanted us to do well in academics.
They were financially capable of sending us to good school and we staye there for 12 long years
But all of us have something or other really great when it comes to our academic performances
Me and anku getting re appears three out of eight times in engineering
Minku cleared his class 10 and 12 with pathetic scores
All of us dropped an year to get admission into an engineering college
But the seeds of genious were within us from our childhood days
I and minku, since the very first day of school were considered “hopeless case” and that brought us even closer, although anku was admirable in his early days but he too became a part of our gang and relished the tikki, which so far was mine aand minku’s exclusive. Monu became a part of our alliance only after class 12 and left it to realize his dreams of becoming a respectable software engineer. Great, he succeeded in that!!!!!!!!!!
But there is always one aspect where I envy my brothers and that’s the department of kudiyaan!!!!!
Three of them always (from the time their relevance began) had a kudi or a good friend beside them, to befriend them, to cheer them, to console them but with me the things were a bit different (no pun intended)…………..
Due to certain behavioral mismatches, I was never comfortable with the girls in my class. They demanded I don't use foul language. They sprinkled any conversation with 'so sweet’, ' so cute' and such pink terms , which was in direct dissonance with the dude type metal head self image I fostered……….
And that continued during my graduation period too and eventually I lost the battle but God gave their luck ball in hands of Pakistani fast bowlers who with an absolute delight can make the old ball swing in right direction.
But koi baat nahi MERA NUMBER AAYEGA
Girls don’t fall for looks. They dig inner beauty. My intestines and kidneys are beautiful.
Kudi or no kudi what so special in us the never ending bond of sharing, caring…….
Small moments , moments of trust , moments of laughter , moments of teasing each other , a few moments of sadness , little moments………..
BANE CHAHE DUSHMAN ZAMAANA SAARA,
SALAAMAT RAHE DOSTANA HAMAARA
6 Jun 2006
!@#$%^&*()_+|
When I started the blog writing, I always had paid an emphasis that on writing stuff which would makes the visitor laugh a bit or at least relieve the tensions. And probably that was the reason why I didn’t comment anything on obc quota like issue, but when my own mood is a bit upset it’s not that easy to write all nonsense, to cut a long story short the blog is not intended for every one but only for…….
Why is it that at times things happen in such a way that I feel totally helpless…? I'm just so helpless ....the matters are such that i cannot find a solution for them... and every time, hundreds of times a day, each time I come face to face with them i am again given a full blown account of those genuinely dumb problems.. What can I do except feel bad for them? Things can go so terribly wrong at times. They can be so miserable, so bleak, so…………
But enough is enough, no problem can be resolved without knowing the root cause and why is it that all the problems have so brainless reason………
But like a winner, I should fully comprehend that the troubles are meant to be gunned down and I firmly resolve that I will be bringing following changes in my life
A few materialistic replacements to start with:
Replace beer with juice (daily)
Replace sutta with fruits
The ones that will matter most
Replace the looser in me with a winner
Replace the pessimistic ass hole by an optimistic one
Replace short temper by patience
Replace casual approach by a hard working attitude
There wont be magic but things will improve.
I need a break. I need a break. I need break. I need a break. I need a break. I need a break. I need a break. I need a break. I need a break. I need a break. I need a break. I need a break. I need a break. I need a break. I need a break. I need a break.
Why is it that at times things happen in such a way that I feel totally helpless…? I'm just so helpless ....the matters are such that i cannot find a solution for them... and every time, hundreds of times a day, each time I come face to face with them i am again given a full blown account of those genuinely dumb problems.. What can I do except feel bad for them? Things can go so terribly wrong at times. They can be so miserable, so bleak, so…………
But enough is enough, no problem can be resolved without knowing the root cause and why is it that all the problems have so brainless reason………
But like a winner, I should fully comprehend that the troubles are meant to be gunned down and I firmly resolve that I will be bringing following changes in my life
A few materialistic replacements to start with:
Replace beer with juice (daily)
Replace sutta with fruits
The ones that will matter most
Replace the looser in me with a winner
Replace the pessimistic ass hole by an optimistic one
Replace short temper by patience
Replace casual approach by a hard working attitude
There wont be magic but things will improve.
I need a break. I need a break. I need break. I need a break. I need a break. I need a break. I need a break. I need a break. I need a break. I need a break. I need a break. I need a break. I need a break. I need a break. I need a break. I need a break.
5 Jun 2006
koi shaque
Already aware of the fact that is my last free week before I set into new venture of life, I resolute to take a complete break and enjoy my life to the fullest,two things i decided to exploit completely are my 21" tv and 17" dabba and with these two stuffs, I made sure that I wont gain any piece of knowledge or frankly speaking, frustrate my self, by watching news channel( bharat aaj west eendeej mein apna pehla test khelegi….) or reading newspaper and pledged to quench my thirst of entertainment by watching music channels all day and in that regard I would like to mention a special thanks(from the bottom of my heart) to my cable operator who has started broadcasting channel [v] and zee music after a long recess
After aching my fingers through the numerous buttons of the remote and arraying all the music channels in a row after eliminating atleast dozen tamil, kannad, benagli channels, what all I got was some great hindi music, with one thing common….. himesh reshamiyya…..from 36 china town to phir hera pheri the music director turned singer turned super model turned heart throb is surely raawww”king”
The singing capabilities of the singer are, I believe, ossuuummmm as he can turn any blasphemous lyric into a super hit song in a single go. Already too much has been said about his voice but a factor which has been long overlooked is the lyrics. A recent hit “I love you sayonee, koi shaque, wassup!!!!” is pathetic beyond imagination and is more common on music channels than rahul mahajan is on news channel.I suppose the lyricist had some stupidity pills in the lunch before writing this song. And then I came across another song, which I would like to mention, its “ye taara wo taara” from the movie swades. The song is equally beautiful as inspiring; I tried to recollect some of the lines from the song
Tumne dekhi hai dhanak to
Bolo rang kitne hai
Saat rang kehne ko
Phir bhi sang kitne hai
Samjho sabse pehle to
Rang hote akele to
Indradhanush banta hi nahi
Ek na hum ho paaye to
Anyay se ladne ko
Hogi koi janta hi nahi
Phir na kehna nirbal hai kyon haara
Hoomm taara taara
Boond boond milne se
Banta hai ek dariya hai
Boond boond sagar hai
Varna yeh saagar kya hai
Samjho is paheli ko
Boond hai akeli to
Ek boond jaise kuch bhi nahi
Hum auro ko chodo tho
Mooh sabse hi mode tho
Tanha rah na jaaye dekho hum kahi
Kyo na bane milke hum dhaara
Hoomm taara taara
Jo kisan hal sambhale
Dharti sona hi ugaaye
Jo gwala gaiyyan paale
Doodh ki nadi bahaye
Jo lauhar loha taale
Har auzaar tal jaaye
Mitti jo kumbhar utaale
Mitti pyaala ban jaaye
Sab yeh roop hai mehnath ke
Kuch karne ki chaahat ke
Kisika kisise koi bair nahi
Sab ke ek hi sapne hai
Socho to sab apne hai
koi bhi kisise yaha gair nahi
Seedhi baat hai samjho yaara
Hoomm taara taara
That is the only happy part of the story
After aching my fingers through the numerous buttons of the remote and arraying all the music channels in a row after eliminating atleast dozen tamil, kannad, benagli channels, what all I got was some great hindi music, with one thing common….. himesh reshamiyya…..from 36 china town to phir hera pheri the music director turned singer turned super model turned heart throb is surely raawww”king”
The singing capabilities of the singer are, I believe, ossuuummmm as he can turn any blasphemous lyric into a super hit song in a single go. Already too much has been said about his voice but a factor which has been long overlooked is the lyrics. A recent hit “I love you sayonee, koi shaque, wassup!!!!” is pathetic beyond imagination and is more common on music channels than rahul mahajan is on news channel.I suppose the lyricist had some stupidity pills in the lunch before writing this song. And then I came across another song, which I would like to mention, its “ye taara wo taara” from the movie swades. The song is equally beautiful as inspiring; I tried to recollect some of the lines from the song
Tumne dekhi hai dhanak to
Bolo rang kitne hai
Saat rang kehne ko
Phir bhi sang kitne hai
Samjho sabse pehle to
Rang hote akele to
Indradhanush banta hi nahi
Ek na hum ho paaye to
Anyay se ladne ko
Hogi koi janta hi nahi
Phir na kehna nirbal hai kyon haara
Hoomm taara taara
Boond boond milne se
Banta hai ek dariya hai
Boond boond sagar hai
Varna yeh saagar kya hai
Samjho is paheli ko
Boond hai akeli to
Ek boond jaise kuch bhi nahi
Hum auro ko chodo tho
Mooh sabse hi mode tho
Tanha rah na jaaye dekho hum kahi
Kyo na bane milke hum dhaara
Hoomm taara taara
Jo kisan hal sambhale
Dharti sona hi ugaaye
Jo gwala gaiyyan paale
Doodh ki nadi bahaye
Jo lauhar loha taale
Har auzaar tal jaaye
Mitti jo kumbhar utaale
Mitti pyaala ban jaaye
Sab yeh roop hai mehnath ke
Kuch karne ki chaahat ke
Kisika kisise koi bair nahi
Sab ke ek hi sapne hai
Socho to sab apne hai
koi bhi kisise yaha gair nahi
Seedhi baat hai samjho yaara
Hoomm taara taara
3 Jun 2006
Last Word on Exams
52(6×8+4) theory subjects
3 hours each
A total of 156 hours……
Imagine this happening to a piece of coal at such a high pressure…..according to what I saw in one of Disney cartoons where uncle Scrooge made a fleet of elephant run over coal, transformed the entire coal deposit into diamonds, so now I can consider my self a diamond………. Kohinoor or just noor is what I am now ;)
The schedule of almost every exam was more or less the same
Set alarm at 0245 hrs, start studying by three and by the time it was six and most of my batch mates were making a final revision, I cherished gazing the little sparrows and butterflies. Finally when those caveat signals stop blinking and I became confident that I will be able to attempt enough questions that would prevent me from flunking, the notes closed and that was the time to bid a final adieu to my notes. And that was the time when the photographer in me sprouted and I would waste hours taking the pics of hostel and little bird from different angle and show them to every body, who instead of praising them commented “padhne de zaleel, tune to fail hona hi hai….mujhe to pass hone de”
Scene at examination hallI used to be among the few first ones to reach the college, even before sitting arrangement was put up, but I was never the first one, as I always found some laila majnus where top five most non cute girls of the universe were busy explaining their jaanus ….. jab yarn mein twist badhta hai….. to mere dil mein crimp badhta hai….
And then a trip to comp lab and library, the two most happening love zones of college, where a few more twists were being untwisted.
And then the exam time…………………..
Wrote non stop for 3 hrs, gosh!!! the paper simply refused to end!!!!! and the answers simply refused to come out and in between their tussle I was the one who was losing the battle, these exams are a waterloo for me!!!!! Not just once or twice, it happened six times in a fortnight. But the good news is that the hectic life is over as I don’t have a camera to click all those birds again and no more exam to watch the pyaar mein doobe yaar!!!!!
Finally over…will become a full time blogger for next few days before I start a new chapter of laziness and depressing nonsenses......
3 hours each
A total of 156 hours……
Imagine this happening to a piece of coal at such a high pressure…..according to what I saw in one of Disney cartoons where uncle Scrooge made a fleet of elephant run over coal, transformed the entire coal deposit into diamonds, so now I can consider my self a diamond………. Kohinoor or just noor is what I am now ;)
The schedule of almost every exam was more or less the same
Set alarm at 0245 hrs, start studying by three and by the time it was six and most of my batch mates were making a final revision, I cherished gazing the little sparrows and butterflies. Finally when those caveat signals stop blinking and I became confident that I will be able to attempt enough questions that would prevent me from flunking, the notes closed and that was the time to bid a final adieu to my notes. And that was the time when the photographer in me sprouted and I would waste hours taking the pics of hostel and little bird from different angle and show them to every body, who instead of praising them commented “padhne de zaleel, tune to fail hona hi hai….mujhe to pass hone de”
Scene at examination hallI used to be among the few first ones to reach the college, even before sitting arrangement was put up, but I was never the first one, as I always found some laila majnus where top five most non cute girls of the universe were busy explaining their jaanus ….. jab yarn mein twist badhta hai….. to mere dil mein crimp badhta hai….
And then a trip to comp lab and library, the two most happening love zones of college, where a few more twists were being untwisted.
And then the exam time…………………..
Wrote non stop for 3 hrs, gosh!!! the paper simply refused to end!!!!! and the answers simply refused to come out and in between their tussle I was the one who was losing the battle, these exams are a waterloo for me!!!!! Not just once or twice, it happened six times in a fortnight. But the good news is that the hectic life is over as I don’t have a camera to click all those birds again and no more exam to watch the pyaar mein doobe yaar!!!!!
Finally over…will become a full time blogger for next few days before I start a new chapter of laziness and depressing nonsenses......
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
