Weirdolosophy :

I love writing(No, its not the name of my girlfriend!). I love writing testimonials. WOW...But WHY? Why do I love that? Now, as I am going to give the answer to that question, I have got this great opportunity to proclaim myself as Mr.Altruist who loves praising people asking nothing in return. I can give a self-obsessive answer to this why...and make myself an 'Epitome of Generosity'. But unfortunately(for my ego), I am going to speak THE TRUTH and don't worry, I know how to speak it(after all my blogs are not that exaggerated!).

So the truth is that 'I am SELFISH'(Like you all..:P). I write testimonials with just a prime intention to get something in return. I am not so generous to bestow people with testimonials all in free. I want them back and wanna be praised for my qualities THROUGH TESTIMONIALS. After all, who does not want an incentive for using his right hemisphere of cerebrum.

By the way, writing testimonials is not a bad hobby at all, because in this world of trouble and sadness, we are giving somebody our precious time just to make them feel special(sorry, please omit that 'just' in the last line). A surprise testimonial gives immense joy to the person receiving it(and also makes him/her aware that he needs to give something in return) and strengthen the bond of friendship. Plus you also have an opportunity to make it as beautiful and starry as you can, with numerous smileys giving a shape of a constellation(I have often seen testimonials having more smileys than the total no. of words in it). Actually, there is a philosophy behind it too, smileys are the best fillers - they occupy four characters each, fill space and lower the writing work for the lazy bones who are writing the testimonial.

Lets come back to me, I am very bad(na, not that bad as much as you're hoping but still), whenever anybody bugs me to write him a testimonial, I copy paste it from somebody else's profile. And I edit it with so much perfection that he could never get to know(So its a sincere advice to you, give me some time to get impressed by you, and gift you an original testimonial). But its not only me who is bad, others too are bad. What's most displeasing is - to see somebody accepting a forwarded testimonial over those of originally crafted ones.

But consider the personal benefits, they are innumerable in number.

• It makes your profile popular amongst the friends(especially girls!!!) of the person you gifted the testimonial, and as a result you get to be popular.

• You have a fair chance of getting a testimonial back, unless your friend is too lethargic or too insensitive.

• It makes that friend a closer friend to you(this does not mean ki kuch bhi bakwaas likh do!).

P.S. The article is highly disorganized just to give you a severe headache. Disprin waalo ne commission jo diya hai!!!
P.S. IIT wapas aakar arbit maarna shuru ho gya. This article is the most abstract of all I have written.
P.S. The moral of the story is : Those who got a testimonial from me, do get time to return me an original testimonial.
P.S. I love myself madly.
P.S. This is just a start in Delhi, I am gonna pour down strange and really original thoughts in my blog soon, just waiting for the right time.
P.S. I miss you Lulu, Mom, Dad, Ankit, Yash, Aman and my HCL desktop which burned my butt for the last two months.
P.S. The days here are interesting. Now, fachche call me SIR : heh. It feels big.

One Night Stand

It was 3:30 am, summer of 2006. My sleep had been lost and my heart was pounding in its full excitement. For the last 4 hours I was on my bed with her. It was like a long-cherished dream come true.

Her name was Eva, that's what I used to call her lovingly, and she was Spanish. She was my first love. I had been seeing her for the last ten months. That summer, she was very kind to me, for she agreed to unravel all her secrets to me someday. And that night, her kindness was par excellence as she dissolved all my moments of wait. I still vividly recall those moments, Eva was sitting on my lap, her very touch gave me an exotic pleasure. My fingers moved all around her neck, as rapidly as they could, trying to feel her with all my senses alive.

She was astonishingly beautiful and definitely very very sexy, but that night she was looking totally different to me, the curves of her body aroused my senses. Anyone would have lost his senses after grasping that. After hanging around with her for almost 10 long months, I finally succeeded in winning her. I could not believe that all my fantasies were being fulfilled. I used to spend countless hours with her on a daily basis to pursue her to let me someday have fun with her, but she took her time in gaining her faith on me. My perseverance at last won her and she agreed to divulge her secrets to me. With her on my congested single-bed, she made it easy for me by being very cooperative. I bolted the door from inside and shut the windows, and without any further delay I began. I did all kind of hammering and bending on her and she was still supportive. She too wanted somebody to love her with all his passions, and that day I fulfilled all her desires. Touching the curves of her body was a sensation out of this world. While fondling her, my eyes remained closed while my soul danced in the music of happiness. I sang all the romantic songs I knew just for her, while she swayed her body in the melody and accompanied me.

Our fun was short-lived(game over in just 6 hours), as at 5 ‘o clock, somebody knocked the bolted door. Terrified, with her still lying on my bed, stark naked, I dared to open the door, with my exhausted fingers, having no option for her to hide.

It was my Mom, banging me with a straight-forward question, “What the hell are you doing with your door closed?”; I tried to provide the best possible explanation to stop her at the door, but she pushed me aside and entered the room to be shocked at seeing Eva lying helpless on my single bed, and that too without anything to cover her bare body. I was caught red-handed, but still I could not hide the excitement of my first night-stand.

I blushingly exclaimed to my Mom, “Mom, I was having fun with her!”, pointing to the sexy five-feet Eva with her six-strings intact and her giraffe-like long neck slimy due to the continuous friction from my hand. She was lying naked on my bed with her cover lying on the floor. However, I could not resist to notice that she was looking sexier from distance with all her curves beautifully crafted. I was looking and longing for her when my Mom pulled my ears and said, “So it was you who was making all the noise! You didn’t care that others were sleeping?” I had no answer.

I looked at Eva, but her face faced my Mom, she kept looking at my Mom with her mouth open in a circle but alas she did not have a tongue to counter my Mom's scolding.

I just smiled back at Mom because of the eternal joy I had with my first love : my first girl-friend, when she unravelled all her secrets to me. That was the time I realized that I could play any song on her as I won a special place in her heart !

I got my first real six-strings
Got it tuned and tried all the tricks
Played it till my fingers bled
It was summer of 2006
If I got the chance
I would always wanna be there
Those were the best days of my life

P.S. Dirty minds, what have you been thinking about while reading the article?
P.S. Hammering and Bending are guitar playing techniques. No need to misinterpret!
P.S. Eva is still my girlfriend, no fights and no break-ups for us : That’s what is called ETERNAL LOVE.

Rules of Composition in Photography :

With the decreasing price of digicam everyday, people nowadays are taking up photography as their passion. I hope this will be a help to the amateurs really passionate about photography.

Composition is the combining of distinct parts or elements to form a whole. In photography that thought is very important in taking good pictures. The following guidelines are just to be thought about though, it is not necessary to try to use them with every picture you take or there wouldn't be any creativity in your work. Once you learn these rules and strategies you will be more prepared to find great picture spots and opportunities.

The Rule of Thirds has been used for centuries and is probably the most important of all the composition techniques. The Rule of Thirds means that the frame can be divided into three horizontal sections and three vertical sections and therefore, where the horizontal and vertical lines intersect makes an ideal location for the more important parts of your picture. By locating your main subject at one of the four intersections you give the subject more emphasis than if it was right smack in the middle of the picture. This is also a good technique if you have more than one important subject, the intersections can still work even if there's a subject on more than one. The divisions can also be helpful in setting up a picture, they can for example, help you determine how much horizon you want.

Then there comes the Diagonal Lines : Using diagonal lines can be a very effective way of drawing the eye of those viewing an image into it and to the main focal point.The ‘lines’ need not be actual lines - they could be the shape of a path, a line of trees, a fence, river or any other feature in an image.
Converging lines (two or more lines coming from different parts of an image to a single point) can be all the more effective.

Simplicity is the method of keeping the information in a photograph relatively simple. If your main subject is close, then your background should be very simple to avoid distractions. You should try to keep everything not important much less interesting than what's important in the frame. Especially avoid lines or objects that lead the eye away from the subject.

Leading Lines are used to lure the eye deeper into a picture or to an important subject. Straight, curved, parallel, or diagonal lines are all good at promoting interest.

Good examples could be roads, rivers, streams, bridges, branches, or fences but there are endless things that could be used.

Geometry : Geometry is used to give a symmetry to the figure. Consider the photo of the Qutab captured by me, it has a geometry of an Isosceles triangle, which makes the Qutab look more majestic. Several paintings and ace photographs contain a sense of geometry in it.

Using Geographic Shapes in this way isn’t something that I’ve done a lot of - but it is one technique to get balance in a shot and if you’re clever, to lead the eye into it (in a similar way to the diagonal lines rule above).

Several geometrical shapes like semi-circular, oval and triangular give the shots a satisfying symmetry.

“Positioning key aspects of a landscape on points of a geometric shape help create a balanced composition.”

Rules are Made to Be Broken?

Of course while knowing the rules can be important - knowing when to use them and when to break them is a talent that great photographers generally have. Practice these techniques - but don’t get so worked up about them that they kill the creativity that you have.

Let me finish with a quote about Rules of Photography from Photographer Edward Weston to help give us a little balance on the topic:

“To consult the rules of composition before making a picture is a little like consulting the law of gravitation before going for a walk. Such rules and laws are deduced from the accomplished fact; they are the products of reflection.”

P.S. Use a high ISO to capture objects in low light situation.
P.S. Use a high shutter speed to make the image of a moving object anti-blur.
P.S. Digital zoom is just as good as real zoom and a lot cheaper.
P.S. Post processing is for people who are too stupid to set the adjustments in their camera.
P.S. Nikon is better than Canon.
P.S. Canon is better than Nikon.
P.S. Always flatter the subject, make them feel that they are the next Brad Pitt or Jolie.
P.S. Have a nice time with your camera. Care it as if its your best friend's gf.
P.S. Stop reading all these P.S.s, go and read the article!!!

A Relative Speculation :

Statutory Warning : Mature Subject Matter. Under 18 and in some regions under 21 please click here to exit. Rest of you who have enough grit in their mind can enter.

This article is not about the theory of relativity. But its about the basic fact of life : everything is relative to each other. If I am a good guitarist then its relative to somebody who plays bad guitar or if I am a bad painter its relative to someone better. Even places are also relative to each other such as Delhi is 1500 kilometers away from Calcutta and so on.

This relativity shows a common fact of life : Nothing is fundamental. Let us say, Napolean was born at Corsica, Greece. If we go to find the exact place where Napolean was born we would never be able to find it. Because if we go to the exact location where he bawled out on this earth, then relative to the solar system our earth would not be at the same position at the orbit; so if we go to Corsica exactly at the same time and that too on Napolean's birthday, still with respect to the centre of the galaxy Milky Way we would have drifted away from the center, for earth as well as the galaxies are continuously drifting away from each other. If we have got to go to exactly the same location where Napolean was born, then we have no other option other rewinding our time(That would require Harry Baweja to make another Love Story 1800, but please somebody tell him we don't want!). Still our dearest H.G.Wells' concept of time-machine has not come into being. This leaves us only one thing to satisfy our curious minds with and that is - Nothing is fundamental.

After coming to such a conclusion, we observe that God has played dice with this universe. He has provided us such a strangest thing that we can't help ourselves, because that is fundamental for all its observers, that does not change with time and is the most mysterious thing known to the mankind. Yes guys and girls, we are talking about the speed of light. Scientists were puzzled from the very beginning that how could there be only one thing so big that is beyond the comprehension of the entire humankind, that is constant relative to everything that obsereves it. So they decided that light moved through a special medium called 'aether'. But scientists have this common characteristic, they search for opportunities to prove any theory/hypothesis wrong. As most of them are not able to discover anything till their face hangs in its own wrinkles, so instead they focus on disproving some theory already accepted. Our physicist duo Michelson-Morley were even awarded the Nobel prize for proving this hypothesis of aether wrong! So scientists began to think what this speed of light is constant to? It might be constant to such a thing that is very fundamental to the whole universe.

Some clever scientists eventually applied his mind to serious thinking (instead of disproving old theories) and suggested that the fixed point must be the point which is constant through all the space and time and the speed of light is relative to that thing. They came to the conclusion that the singularity that existed at the time of Big Bang must indeed be that fundamental point. But despite all the efforts for about three years our able scientists(including that dishevelled haired freak called Einstein) were not able to locate that point of the BIG BANG. So scientists developed an idea(which was really cool); as they could not find themselves what they went to search, they blocked the way for the forth-coming generations by providing a strange yet very sound hypothesis(which has not been disproved till now) i.e. the singularity can never be comprehended by us because it happens to exist in the fourth dimension. Now people get frightened after seeing this word "fourth dimension" : No need to be frightened(you haven't got frightened reading this article till now assures you that you won't be scared by this word too). I will explain this fourth dimension vividly in full detail.

I will use two dimension for explaining this fourth dimension. Suppose there is a two dimensional surface. On the surface there are many villages which inhabitates two dimensional beings in their two dimensional houses(Don't worry about them, they manage to live, just suppose!). They have two dimensional torches and the torch light follows the surface instead of spreading in all the 3 dimension. To the two dimensional beings this world seems flat. One day, what they observe is that the faraway villages are running away from theirs as the light takes more time to reach their village than before. That made them think that initially all the villages were clustered into a singularity and from that all of this emerged. If the people on that two dimensional surface try to comprehend that singularity, they will never be able to do so because they are actually on a very giant and highly elastic balloon with air continuously being blown into. They can't comprehend whether this balloon has a beginning or an end. They can't comprehend this balloon even as the singularity represents the time when this balloon was inflated completely and that singularity is out of their dimension. Strange yet amazing explanation, isn't it?

This balloon is a simile for our universe(with its galaxies running away from each other) and the singularity represents the point of the Big Bang which happens to be incomprehensible.
So scientists believe (and even I do!) that this speed of light is the only fundamental thing of this universe that will never change with time, because this speed of light is relative to something that is in itself fundamental yet incomprehensible.

The Universe is the biggest mystery for us, and with this biggest I really mean to say "The Biggest". If in our lifetime, we are not even once fascinated by it, then we have certainly missed something. The end of the film Men in Black puts this idea in a very beautiful way, that our whole universe is within a marble and there are several such marbles in thousands of lockers. And several octopuses are playing football with it.

P.S. I was unhappy this afternoon but again I am happy. Ab to aadat si ho gayee hai mujhko khush rehne kii!
P.S. I played my synthesizer today after 2 months.
P.S. Those who have read this article click here.
P.S. Song of the Day : Somebody's Me - Enrique Iglesius
P.S. Late surfers, see this. If you could not understand then Good Night!!!

The Origin

The very moment I decide to write something, the first question that bangs my head is what to write. The days here at home are uneventful; I get up late and stick to the computer. After waiting for an hour without any single scrap, I begin reading others’ blog and formatting my own blog to make it more lucrative to the visitors. The visitor counter of my blog contains 70% of my hits only. I read other peoples’ articles, some of them are really very touching and interesting. Then I come back and read my own articles(Not surprisingly, they too seem interesting to me). I begin thinking how can I write many more articles, for there are no happenings during these vacations, the days pass on quickly and boringly. Sometimes I write something that happened years ago, any emotion or a thought that occurred to my mind or just write my views on a particular area of interest. And if I never get a topic, I begin by criticising any actor, author or attitude.

But coming to the origin, I wonder what made me passionate about writing? I used to write diary but that too occasionally with no more than some weird happenings of the day. That was all. But this 'writing for others to read' was a hobby that was inspired by one of my closest friends.

This passion of writing started from writing a simple article on an ordeal that we undertook on the insti-top in my institute itself (The Ordeal). By chance, I made it a bit humorous and by another chance my room-mate Akshay happened to read it. For the first time he read such a long article completely without getting bored, otherwise most of the time he would get bored of and quit reading these kinds of long articles. Akshay is a big miser in appreciating anyone(yes that‘s true), and that time, for the first time he appreciated my writing. His appreciation was like a new hope for me. It gave me tremendous confidence to write.

Thanks a lot Akshay, if you happen to read this writing, I want to say you that your one word of encouragement inspired all my forth-coming writings. Thanks for being a true friend by not doing any insincere flattery. Your appreciation means a lot to me.

Orkut does not have so many demerits because for me it gave me my best friend.

Can there really be a Two-Dimensional World?

People have been using two dimensional world for explaining different phenomenas of this world. Suppose this 2-D world really existed, then imagine how funny it would be. People of two dimensions will have two-dimensional scooters and bicycles, while there would be no taxi-drivers or rickshaw-walas as rickshaws and cars(being three dimensional) would not be possible. How would any couple marry because they could never take 'saat phere' around the fire. The life would be much like 2-D computer games like Mario and Dave(with guys eating 2-dimensional mushrooms to grow and jumping on owls and ducks to achieve their goals). So the question is, "Is this kind of world really possible?" The answer to many people will seem to be yes, but infact considering our biology this speculation is not possible. Here is the explanation.

In a two dimensional world, everything would be fine, only our digestive system will cause a problem, and that too a big problem. No, I am not talking about indigestion or loose motions, but a problem more serious than that. If we notice carefully, the digestive track will divide our whole body into two halves. The picture displayed below shows the two halves in two different colours to elucidate the point.

God really is very clever, he planned very carefully before putting down the recipes for this universe. Hats off to His Brain !

P.S. From now on I will be writing P.Ss(It stands for postscripts)
P.S. I got to know that Microsoft Paint is very difficult, it took me 15 minutes to get the above picture.
P.S. I am exceptionally talented in bad drawing.
P.S. I have decided to start a new blog on vignettes of physics and strange speculations of science.
P.S. I am exceptionally happy, wont tell you the reason though.
P.S. Don’t forget to comment you lazy bones!

Think Twice

Why should you think twice?

Criticism of Criticism

Criticism, we all never miss any opportunity to do that. Whether we know about the thing or not, when it comes to criticising, it becomes a bull’s eye case where we could never miss our target. The joy it brings in criticising anyone is so cosy. From politicians to the condition of the country, from western culture affecting the Indian culture to how Dhoni should have played the shot, passing opinions is the favorite pastime of the current world. Even I love this pastime. Without any second thought, sarcasm is my favourite genre in writing. Interesting thoughts start flowing in my writings when I am upto criticising somebody.

The real fun comes when this game of sarcasm, satire and criticism comes to our place and says, “Knock knock” at our door. Criticism can spoil the life of somebody with a mild heart or it can make a man with conviction to rise to stardom. It all depends on how we take the criticism. I, being too much self-obsessive, want to make all my critics shut their mouth. Whenever somebody says, “I don’t agree by what you said or what you wrote.” I reply, “Wow, its so nice that you didn’t agree. If you had agreed then how boring this world would be! I am glad to see that we are so different from each other.”

Taking the criticism constructively requires immense grit and will power. The outer world shoots at every opportunity it gets to start its regular job of leg-pulling with full dedication. One needs to be witty to make the critics shut up. There goes an incident : There was an organization against Einstein named “100 authors against Einstein”, one reporter once enquired Einstein, “What is your reaction on this organisation?” What Einstein replied was one of the wittiest lines that ever came out from the human tongue. He replied, “If I were wrong, only one author would have been enough.”

Critics are those people who know the cost of everything but the value of nothing. And I am also in that category. But I am a proud member of this society because knowing the cost in itself is an art, as there is no MRP on people and places!

I am Special

I always searched outside for people to see my beauty, my inner beauty. I seeked their attention to make them appreciate me in one way or other. I did not feel beautiful from inside, I did not like my face, my crooked teeth or my spectacled eye. I wanted for somebody to make me feel special, to make me feel beautiful. But no one turned up.

It was not until I myself fell in love with Harsh that the whole world realized my essence. When I accepted myself as the way I am, the whole world accepted me with open arms.

The world treats you the way you treat yourself.

What a Passion!

The Summer of 2008
Place : Dhanbad, Jharkhand(my hometown)

I dropped a ten rupees note in my pocket and left home for meeting my friends in the ISM campus. I entered the campus thinking about what, that I also don't remember. I observed the sky and noticed the trees surrounding the roads. I peeped into the Ruby hostel(That's a girls hostel by the way) but to my disappointment there was no one to please my spectacled eyes . I moved ahead, being somewhere lost in my daydreaming and turned according to the road. An ambassador was circumscribing the campus with a popular Himesh song rocking the surroundings in great volume, perhaps somebody was learning driving. A brief stroll over, still lost in thoughts I opened the gate to the house of Gautum and found myself amongst a nice bunch of people : all of them being holiday returns. Its always heartening to look new faces as we often get bored to see the same faces all the time, much like that I got bored of seeing my own face in the last 18 years. I met Karthik, his stylish new look looked good. I heard his college stories and found it almost similar to mine. We started for the ground to play cricket.

"How many cigarettes you burn daily?", he asked me.
"Zero", I replied.
"Really? Not even in college? Though it looks from your face that you have become a chain smoker."

I got a strange feeling inside, I wanted an immediate plastic surgery for sure. There was a part inside me laughing at the joke, which was pathetic, and another part STUMPED. Come on, my face is not that bad. He related proudly that he smoked a dozen cigarettes daily. That made me ask myself, "Am I missing something? Is smoking so necessary?". It had been almost 19 years since I bawled out on this planet and I have still not experienced one of the best feelings(as they say!) available on this earth. I recalled every gone moments when I was offered that luxury, or when I could have grabbed the opportunity of putting those slim paper-cylinders in between my lips and feel like Sharukh Khan. I lost one year of my college life where I could have enjoyed that luxury without any restrictions.Can you think how big part it is in a smoker's lifetime? I was feeling that I lost something vital.

I remembered the first time when I was offered a cigarette, just to taste(not exactly taste, u may call it 'feel') in a friend's birthday party in the hostel in a great festive mood with the song SUTTA - dedicated to the smokers in the background, making the atmosphere more congenial. It was perhaps the best 'muhurta' for starting this new hobby, many of my friends were initiated into it that day only. And to my bad luck, I refused that offer. Had I not refused the offer, I would have gathered an year-long experience of smoking(which would perhaps add to my CV) & to all my tyro smoker friends I would have been a 'role model' kind of thing.

I thought about the previous week, something else struck my mind adding to my misery. In the previous week, the newspaper 'The Telegraph' conducted a survey called 'What girls like most about men?' and the results were astounding showing that SMOKING stood at the prestigious Rank 6. This thought intensified my feeling of losing something much more(har taraf se gaya!).

Dad's repetitive words, "Opportunities gone never come back" echoed my ears. Sudden vibration in my mobile phone tickled my legs and brought me down to the present moment and I found that I had reached the cricket ground.

I always felt that the world is full of selfish people, people here care for only themselves; but to my pleasant surprise, I found a world of smokers, who are not at all selfish. All my misconceptions are cleared : Smokers are selfless, they never care about themselves, despite reading in every second advertisements and on every cigarette pack that 'cigarette is injurious to health', they untiringly pursue their passion. I may never become like them, though my face resembles them, but I adore them for their utmost devotion and passion. If I had the same passion for my country, I would have worked wonders!

1000 smokers quit smoking everyday,

by dying.

(Written at 12:47 am, 23rd June in Dhanbad)

The future is boring!

Three days in Patna, not enough time, but still wanted to have a glimpse of the Miss World of the past and star of the future(Though to criticize her boyfriend was my prime intention). Two days after the release of Harry Baweja sci-fi movie, I happened to encircle the Regent cinema hall. Tickets had been sold two hours before the movie, and it left me no choice other than paying the double price of the ticket. After purchasing a coloured ticket in black (God knows where the hell this word ‘black’ for ticket came into being), I entered the hall in great optimism. Films started in a regular fashion, with the hero doing heroic deeds on his Dad’s car, the cinematography trying to make the entry of hero as rocking as possible. First glimpse of junior Baweja made me think twice whether he is a lost brother of Hrithik Roshan, his striking resemblance with Hrithik was astonishing. His cute smile couldn’t stop girls adoring her (Nice choice Priyanka!). Then the story goes on a smooth track, with hero in the prime scene all the time: a general debutante centered movie. When Harman began to dance, people went crazy; the hall was clustered with whistles and claps. Superb break dance (inspired by Mai-ka-lal Jaikishan), newest of its kind in Bollywood made it clear that this guy is going to be a star. Several moonwalks and waves made the dance a ‘WOW’ material for the audiences. But, the entrance of Booman Irani as a crazy scientist brought a big jolt on all the viewers’ expectations. His appearance like Einstein and his behavior like Charlie Chaplin were in contrast with each other. The gravity of a scientist was sucked up in his character (Really gravity sucks!). He danced (neither like Archimedes nor like Harman) with “EUREKA EUREKA!!” after discovering the formula of the time machine. The dialogue writer tried to include some funny remarks but that could not bring more than a giggle to the viewers. Transporting ourselves to the future, 2050 had some nice technological marvels, nice animations I must say, with flying cars and whale-sized LCDs. Tata Indicom, Sun Microsystems and Ceat tyres were showed to be the best brands of the future (paise ke liye log kuch bhi advertise kar dete hain). The villain was more like the villain of Nagaraj Comics with a mask and superpowers. But our hero had the power of love, with which he easily defeated the villain. The fighting action could have been better. After the interval, the crowd really became desperate; several people left the cinema hall half an hour before the film ended, as the film became too slow. The film was inspired a bit by the blockbuster ‘Krish’ for the mad scientist destroyed the time machine before dying.

Anyways the film had a nice concept, the children would like it more. But its ironical, a love story for class-2 going children (lol!). As a love story, it was too boring and too slow. The film clearly showed what it was intended for: To give junior Baweja a bumper debut. And he might succeed in it. Though I went to criticize him, I couldn’t find too many faults in him and I became a fan of his break-dance. Still, his break dance could not compensate for the double price I had to pay for the ticket!

India

It was 29th Aug, 1989 when I bawled out on this planet. From that day only, a stamp of being an Indian was embedded in my nature. Times passed by, India continued to be responsible for quite a lot of my actions.

The early childhood had in me immense love for my motherland. Every time Tiranga flashed on the Doordarshan, it would give me goosebumps. I unconsciously stood up in attention position and rejoiced while singing our national anthem in full volume. There was a song called ‘Mile sur mera tumhara’ telecasted every now and then on my small Salora black and white TV which had many maestros of music singing for the peace in the nation, of which I never ever got bored off. Every year I would wait for the Republic Day to see the nation’s power showcased during the shows. Every duels and quarrels with friends faded away at the time of any cricket match, when we used to dance together every time Sachin hit fours and sixes. Films like Roja and Border stirred my soul from within. A TV serial called ‘Yug’ referring to the Indian Freedom Struggle was telecasted on DD-Metro and each and every show brought immense patriotic fervour in me. I could not even hear a wrong word against my country. I remember a fight I had with a friend of mine when he said, “I hate this country.” That was the time India was the driving force for my life.

As I grew older(as well as more mature and more sensible, as they say) that early enthusiasm was lost on the way. Being an Indian didn’t bring that pride that it used to bring. India has been lost in the dust of the cricket grounds of my childhood. When elders asked me, “What do you want to do?” I replied, “I want to graduate from the IITs and settle in US.” Time had reached when there was not a single thing that I liked about my country. The pollution pinched me hard, I hated walking on roads that had spits of betel on it and I felt all the mythology as mere rubbish, all the politicians as gamblers and somewhere felt that the world outside India as much more beautiful. Before every cricket match, yet another loss was what consistently hit my mind. I began thinking twice before standing for our national anthem, and in school at the time of national anthem I used to do lips-ing as if some playback singer was singing the anthem for me. I remained asleep on 26th January as it was nothing more than a holiday for me. Indians looked more superstitious and narrow-minded than ever before and I wanted desperately wanted to run out of this country. The only thing which I liked about India was Aishwarya Rai (who also broke my heart by marrying the guy who does “chiki-chaka-chaka-jung-jung” for motorocker).

The maturity that came with the ageing childhood had caused the loss of the vigour for my country, but at the same time brought a new side of the country (this was the phase when real sensibility came in me). The country with so many colours, traditions and rituals, and every tradition having a heritage as well as history of its own; became fascinating for this matured soul. The beliefs of people here on the idols of Rama and Krishna who they have never seen, different sects of people living in the same area with harmony and unison, the innocence of the villagers, the perseverance of farmers, the bliss of sages, the melody of Indian music, the happiness on the face of every child, the marvellous brain of India and creativity of artisans suddenly became visible. My indifference to India faded as soon as I saw it being a conglomeration of every beautiful thing here on earth. The same things which I despised became strikingly beautiful for me. The stamp that was laid on me at the time of birth showed its essence then. Life changes its course, maybe I will leave this country one day, but that does not lower my respect for this nation that has provided me a heritage to be proud of and many beautiful people to enrich my life.

We say we don’t love this country, we criticize the system, we point out flaws but in all of these we don’t see what feelings we have that has made them to criticize it. I mean to say that Why don’t we criticise Somalia or Ethiopia? It’s because we don’t care about them. But for India, we care. We know that we are responsible for the condition of our country and we can bring a change ourselves. We want our country to be the best; we want it to be a superpower, to be developed, to win all the cricket matches it plays and to surpass every nation with its values and beliefs intact. We are, in one way or another, linked to the nation. After seeing the English movies and the kind of language they use, a sudden pride pops up amongst us because we are more civilised, we are more respectful to our parents and more cultured. We must be proud to be born in such a country where the people have discovered all the arts and sciences at a time when the guys and gals of the rest of the world were killing animals for their flesh to make their underpants!

A Living God

Its 11:12 pm, we are sitting and watching TV, suddenly Mom stood up and says, “I am now going to sleep”.

She picks up the dirty plates and takes them to the sink. She brings Bournvita for us. She sits down to write a leave application for my sister. She clears the mess on the bed, arranges the bed-sheet and knots the mosquito net to its keys. She switches off the light of the drawing room and pulls the grills of the main door. She prepares for her lectures to be delivered in her college the next day and presses her salwar suit. She puts a water bottle and a tumbler near every bed and puts the mobile phones on charging. She greets us, "Good night", which we don‘t even reciprocate having been absorbed in an Arnold's action packed blockbuster. She sets the alarm to 5’o clock in the morning and sits for her night prayers. Finally, she puts on the anti-ageing cream and moisturizers on her face. With a sigh of relief, she goes to her room, turns off the light of the room and retires to bed.

Its 12:04 am, I, tired after finishing the movie, get up and announce loudly, “I am going to sleep, Good night” to which there is no response. I go to my room and blindly slide under my mosquito net and see that there is no pillow. I complain to myself, "Nobody is concerned for me, I hate this world.”

A Ten Years Gap

It was 1998. I was sitting in front of the TV and watching Dexter’s Lab. Suddenly the power was cut, I cursed the electricity board with great enthusiasm and lied down on the bed still in darkness. There was no one in the room. My newly bought radium watch showed me the time was 9:30 at night. The main door was closed and I could see a faint moonlight creeping through the crevices of the door. The light pulled me towards it, and within a moment, I slid towards its birthplace : The Moon.

“I saw myself hanging in between the earth and the moon, being closer to the moon. I found several dark craters and numerous volcanoes scattered on its bright surface. My imagination took me to its surface which was a conglomeration of everything I saw in the cartoons, discovery channel and of course my imagery. I, being still dressed in my favorite trousers, saw beneath my feet impenetrable depth of light, so radiant that it dazzled my eyes. I looked at the sky and found the most beautiful thing I had ever seen : I saw my earth, all of its continents in perfect balance and my motherland India looking as if it had been crafted deliberately yet most beautifully by the Master Craftsman.
"My imagination instantly moved me to a rocket(much like Dexter‘s) which was traveling at limitless speed. Vicariously, I toured the whole solar system. I could see the Jupiter and its four moons dancing around it in circular orbits and I saw Pluto, looking much as a purple colored ‘Cadbury Gems’. I could see myself amazed by the deep blue colour of the Neptune. Within a moment, my super fast thoughts arranged my exit from the solar system. My thoughts unknowingly drifted from the zigzag motion of the planets, crossed the milky way and steered towards the periphery of the universe. The end of the universe was much like the horizon on the sea, as it drifted farther the more I tried to reach it. My mind gave up but my imagination didn’t(it had no bounds), it kept moving away from the universe to finally find a vantage point. And to my utter amazement, from the vantage point I observed that the universe was contained in a small seed and millions of such seeds were contained in an urn in a familiar seed shop in a remote village in northern India...(a sudden ‘wow‘ feeling came at my imagination)"

Sudden bright lights from the bulbs dissolved the dim moonlight from the crevices. The ‘noise’ in the TV brought me back to the world and I was still in awe. After two minutes, I came back to my senses and found that Dexter’s Lab was over, but that time it didn’t hurt.

Ten years later(21st June, 2008), summer holidays on. I was watching TV and this time not a cartoon but a movie. Suddenly, grains struck the TV screen with great intensity and lights flickered, I realized that power got cut and the inverter had taken charge(times have changed, you know). My newly bought watch showed me the time : 12 o’ clock in the night(My matured mind grew up for the radium watch this time). Nature could not interfere my thoughts this time because the moonlight became much less bright for me to notice. I shut down the TV, lay down on the bed and switched off the lights. My thoughts started to wander(not wonder).

“I thought about my school, where the very first thing that struck my mind was how badly my chemistry teacher once ridiculed me in the class. I tried to move my thoughts to my college whose insurmountable academic pressure punched me hard. I consciously tried to think of my future but, to my shock, I could find numerous doubts and dilemmas. My self-belief started to tremble. I heard a wailing sound of a child from somewhere in the neighborhood and this carried me back to my childhood days - where dreams were always meant to come true, where the whole universe was in my fist and I could twist and turn it in my own wish, where I could drive rockets with saucers, where the word “limitation” was never in my dictionary, where every morning was brand new and filled with enormous energy, where I was like ‘wind’ with enough power to smash every obstacle that stood my way. My thoughts soon merged with my dreams and simultaneously my childhood merged with my present scenarios. The tough realities haunted me with their true face and I realized how time had changed. I had matured but somewhere on the way I lost that innocence and that freedom. I longed for the same blithe of my childhood.”

A sudden call early in the morning from my aunt woke me up the next day. She asked me to come and teach her 5th grade son some Mathematics when I wondered, “Is it he or me who needs to be taught?”

The Three Mistakes of My Life

I got really excited when I saw Chetan Bhagat’s new book in Big Bazaar. The cost(Rs.95 only) too did not made my wallet frown. I bought that book within a blink(The first mistake of my life, I realized later).When I met my friends, I proudly asked them, “Dude, have you seen Chetan’s new book?” My friends negated to which I proudly replied, “I have got it buddy” and my shrewd smile increased its curvature to form a perfect semi-circle and made me more flamboyant. I loved winning over them in ‘atleast’ one thing for the time being.

My pomp trickled me down to a slippery path of exaggeration(Its so very slippery that it can cause a dumb person to become an RJ or a little talk with a girl to be called as a date, and still we all love doing that!). Having read just the prologue and the first two chapters of the book, I told them the book is stunning with great storyline and blah-blah(Yes, you got that right : The ‘second’ mistake). It is not surprising because Chetan’s writing style especially at the beginning of his writing always looks marvelous(C’mon, he isn’t that bad!). The next few days somehow things didn’t workout, I could not get enough time to complete that book(Got tired of orkutting the whole day!) but that couldn’t stop me from giving free publicity to the guy who thanked Bill Gates in his acknowledgements. I recommended this book to every teenager I came across. Chetan must be getting hiccups everytime I advertised his book. Why shouldn’t I publicize? Its my fundamental duty to give a guy moral support who sat through the same tortures in the same lecture theatres as I am doing presently.

God was ‘a bit’ kind on me. My mom gifted that book to somebody(poor he!) for which I had a nice fight at home because the book was incomplete and I thought I would read it someday. The main problem was that I couldn’t complain to any of my friends about the lost that book because they were knowing that I had finished the book(courtesy to my exaggerations). Fortunately, my resentment faded away soon with incoming 200 scraps and numerous ‘gtalk’ conversations. Internet is a panacea, it can cure all your ailments. Days went by as fast as guys score runs in IPL(sorry for that dumb simile, I couldn‘t find anything better conveying my feelings).

I had a trip to Shirdi in the second week of June. I had taken two books(Paulo Coelho‘s stuffs) for the journey to provide my mind some philosophical entertainment(sounds weird, eh?). But the non-stop chatter of a 7-year old overenthusiastic “kid” brought me down to read some fiction(How could he understand the value of concentration, until he would need to fry his bottom to prepare for the competitions!). So I considered it a right time for finishing off with the incomplete book. At Jabalpur station, I committed the third biggest mistake of my life and nobody stopped me, not even my intuition.

I got down the train and purchased that book once again, and to add icing on the cake the shopkeeper told me, “Saheb, ye book bahot bik rahi hai”. My ego knew no bounds and a sudden pride sprang up : The book that I had suggested to my friends is gonna be a best-seller, “I rock!”. I came back happily on my seat and ‘dated’ the book for the next five continuous hours(Fortunately or unfortunately, that kid got down at the next station). The book provided me more jerks than the train. It was the same : filmy, melodramatic, repetitive, monotonous and non-sensical, in short disgusting. I could dream of continuous jeers from my friends, about this book, targeted at me with great force after they read it. The scenes from the film “The Butterfly Effect” flashed my eyes where I could go to the past and craft my future according to my own wish. Only in dreams I could save myself from my friends, who would leave no stones unturned in pulling my leg. Perhaps that’s why I am tall.

Book Analysis :

In the cup life of a Gujarati businessman, Mr.Bhagat added the spice of cricket, calamities, financial bottlenecks, friendship, romance, eroticism, emotional dilemmas, religious fanaticism and also maths(not to forget Mr.Bhagat ought to be good at this stuff). In a way the recipe for the script of a typical Indian movie could be found in that 95 rupees book.

Mr.Bhagat has gone somewhere wrong, he started writing out of his passion and now I believe he has drifted towards enriching his bank accounts. His books, save the stunning 5.someone, were a complete shit. He tried to do every kind of experiment on those, he tried to send us a message through God or tried to bring out the extremism of the religious fronts, but amidst all this he has forgotten to take care of the readers. He has become highly repetitive as his writings are always revolving around 3 to four friends of which one is stud, one is dull and the third, the narrator, is a guy suffering from ‘superb’ inferiority complex. The repetitions in the storyline tickles my small intestine and makes me uncomfortable. His writings claim to be true, but it is hard to find it in this real world of ours, ‘which moves around the sun if he notices’, so many coincidences are ‘beep’ impossible. If what he has written is true, then I am desperately expecting Ali to come out of nowhere in our Cricket team and replace Sachin and oh my jesus, I haven’t heard of that guy called Fred of the Australian team to be counted among the ‘Legends’. Comparing him with the legends like Naipul, Rushdie is inappropriate because he is not yet versatile, he needs to grow.
This is purely critical analysis, my views put in words. Every sentence describes my feelings and if this hurts anybody then prove your point to me or go to hell. Being a fan is the easiest thing in the world, just follow the herds of people who blindly follow a person. But one should apply one’s mind before carrying on someone else’s beliefs. Chetan Bhagat is undoubtedly very successful and his writing style is cool, but this monotony pinches me hard(and also tickles me, if you remember) and makes me comment on it. I would love to have your views on this book and also on Mr.IITian-IIMian husband of Mrs.Bhagat.

Sometimes I am bad, and the problem is that ‘sometimes’ happens too often.

(Written on 12th June in Shirdi)

Faith :

I think that I am losing something, thats a vital component of existence and thats faith. The moment I enter a temple or any religious place I begin to question my belief, I am not able to believe in an idol. I really want to, but just the flow of faith is interrupted. There is always a doubt accompanying me at these times.

On analyzing carefully, Faith in a supreme power is necessary as well as spiritually good because :

• It shatters the ego a big deal.
• It makes one grateful for everything one gets, whether good or bad.
• It marks a beginning in the power of prayers in our life. Prayers can do miracles.

These three points are totally out of my experience with people who firmly believe in GOD. I am not an atheist, rather am an agnostic, a "mean" agnostic, who does not believe in anything without logic; but I am a peculiar kind of agnostic who wants to be a Theist but can't do it. I am helpless, Can anybody suggest me a method, a course : a crash course kind of thing in FAITH Development?? Help me..

(Firm believers of God are welcome to share their experiences, I would love to read them)

Scattered Thoughts :

A strange feeling slid inside me when I peeped down the roof. It was just a four-storied building and this fear of losing myself caged me from within. Coming back to my senses, I wondered for a while, why I got that eerie feeling? The fear of falling down made me so scared that I suddenly realized my existence. For the last 18 years, I never cared for my existence, I took it for granted. The bizarre thought of death never ever struck my mind. How could I die? I am here to live, to achieve, to pursue my interests... was all that I could think of...But suddenly, something more powerful than my existence, which can shake the roots of my very existence became visible i.e. DEATH. I get an abnormal sensation when I think about it.

My point is why there is much fuss about it? Are we doing such great things that death will cause some loss to the world? Nothing is indispensable. Our very existence is mere an illusion, just as someone has dipped his finger in water and the moment he withdraws his finger the water fill that space instantaneously. We are special but impermanent mortal species. Death is bound to come, its waiting for the right time. Instead of running away from it, if we welcome it with openness our lives would be the most fulfilling : because we will die happily.

Lock Unlocked :

There is a gift to the mankind which I have been made to realize once again by the Master. That gift can be put in the following words :

If you become passionately involved in anything for a long period of time, the lock to that thing will be made open to you.

It happened to me earlier, it happened to me from time to time, just because I passionately devoted my time to that thing. The first realization came when I was in class 2. My Uncle gifted me a globe and within two days I memorized all the countries and their capitals (just because I gave up my video games for those two days). Then came the synthesizer which I had tried my hands upon from class 8 to class 9 and suddenly one day I was astonished to see myself reproducing any song I heard. Then came the flute, it took me 3 days of gasping deep breaths to unlock its code. This gave me a confidence to pick up yet another instrument i.e. Harmonica and I unlocked its code in just an hour. But my confidence was brought to the ground level by guitar, which took me 1 year of arduous "arbit maarna" to unlock its code. In the midst of all this, something happened : I was in class 10th, and I was terrified with the subject sanskrit. I could score only 69 out of 100 in the first term examination, I started devoting much of my time in it, and then suddenly one day I fell asleep while studying it and that too for just 15 minutes. When I got up miraculously sanskrit seemed easy. It seemed somewhat familiar and simple. I don't know what exactly happened but yeah that day I became a close witness of a big mystery of nature, i.e. the key to the treasure of knowledge and learning is gifted to those who persevere in search of that treasure.

And today once again, I have unlocked a lock, that is typing rapidly without seeing the keyboard with a considerable accuracy and I am happy :).
(Why shouldn't I be? Having 4700 scraps on orkut is no small thing)

A forthcoming revolution :

Let us join hands to create a movement :

• People afflicted with physically disabilities should not be called physically handicapped but rather we should call them "Specially-abled"
• It has already been accepted that the word "blind" has been replaced by "visually challenged".
• The art of making a sad person happy is the best form of art possible. It is above any prayer and above any deed.
  
• Being judgmental is the worst way of wasting time. It can't persuade other people to correct themselves and neither can it help ourselves, just we get to improve our vocabulary by some 5-6 bad words.
  
• Sometimes, just being there means a lot more than saying something. Silence speaks louder than words.

When the power of love overcomes the love for power, the world will know peace.

I can create a difference in their lives :

Compassion, one of the greatest virtues is intriguing me once again. This morning, this particular feeling has started pinching me, for I remember myself being judgmental for many deprived people. I remember myself getting irritated by the beggars, by the kids asking for money to feed themselves, by a malnourished 5 year old cobbler in tattered clothes who annoyed me continuously asking me, "Sir, poliss kara lo" and me chiding him,"Bhaagta hai ya maarun?".

Being in educated class, it is our duty to have a place in our hearts for these heart-swirling happenings around us. We need to be touched by all this, we cannot be so heartless and so indifferent that we don't pay attention to these. The cause of this deprivation is nothing more than their fate, they had been born to poverty-stricken family and this is not their fault at all. If we can't help them then atleast by being compassionate we can treat them as human beings. Why are we so adamant to draw boundaries between ourselves and them? Before anything to categorize us, we all are a subset of a universal superset of "Human Beings" and after that we all are citizens of the same motherland. If we help them, then it will be indirectly helping our nation to break the boundary and class divide. We have the best tool to fight this penury and deprivation and that is "LOVE". Love can win all the wars and can bring radical change in the society. Only if we respect everyone's existence on this earth, we can make our existence worthwhile.

Just a simple pledge can make a difference :
"From this day, I will not only understand the pain of the poverty-stricken but also feel that pain. My eyes will reassure hope in every needy who comes to me."