Sitting there in the dark room
Damp and stale air circulating in his lungs
Tired, dried and painful eyes
Adjusting to the solitary beam of light in the room
Bound by ropes since eternity
He had stopped struggling against them
But the light reminded him of what he could be
The light was where he wanted to get to
The flimsy ropes gave way under his gentle tug
He was free from all that was holding him from his destiny
His weak limbs carried him to the door
His face partially illuminated by the sunlight
He rushed into the thin wooden door
The cool breeze running through his hair reminding him what it meant to be free
His feet missing the familiarity of the damp ground
His mind scared of the uncertainty
The wind started hitting his face harder and faster
He was where he always wished to be
Only to realize he had been waiting for his end
He was found washed up on a beach a few kilometers from his light tower.
P.S. the title is from a Metallica song - "No Leaf Clover" - The soothing light at the end of the tunnel, is just a freight train coming your way.....
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Demon Barber
Sitting there with your life your barber’s hands, you wince when he says “Oh Shit”. You can feel the warm fluid drip from the back of your ear. You will have to live with it for the rest of your life. Your favorite white shirt will forever be tainted with the purple hair color!
:P what did you think happened?
:P what did you think happened?
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
For a cause
Thursday, October 02, 2008
Bird of prey
Another bomb blast. He will have lots of stuff to feast on. Ah! the perfect moment, A woman is sitting in the pool of blood and tears, wailing for her dead 6 year old. He has a smile on his face, a good day indeed. It is almost time, time for some more breaking news.
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Back to school
Some teachers make siting in class after a heavy lunch on a Saturday afternoon fun.
This was during our Macroeconomics class...We have a distributed class as in a part of the class is in Chennai. The prof saw that the Chennai guys were not participating in the discussion...the following happened:
Prof: Chennai....I hope you are with us...at least in spirit
Wise Ass: Sir, Spirits in the evenings
Prof: Is it...everyday??
Wise Ass: Between bouts of laughter...yes sir
Prof: I think I need to be in Chennai next week
-----------------------------------------------------
Most of us are shit scared of our Stats prof...anyway he is another cool guy...at least from his choice in music ;) ....the following is from his slides
Sing along with Bob Dylan...
How many deviations does a statistician fly
Before he can cross much of it [the data]?
The answer my friend is Chebyshev Theorem
The answer is Chebyshev Theorem
I know it is geeky....but still fun ;)
This was during our Macroeconomics class...We have a distributed class as in a part of the class is in Chennai. The prof saw that the Chennai guys were not participating in the discussion...the following happened:
Prof: Chennai....I hope you are with us...at least in spirit
Wise Ass: Sir, Spirits in the evenings
Prof: Is it...everyday??
Wise Ass: Between bouts of laughter...yes sir
Prof: I think I need to be in Chennai next week
-----------------------------------------------------
Most of us are shit scared of our Stats prof...anyway he is another cool guy...at least from his choice in music ;) ....the following is from his slides
Sing along with Bob Dylan...
How many deviations does a statistician fly
Before he can cross much of it [the data]?
The answer my friend is Chebyshev Theorem
The answer is Chebyshev Theorem
I know it is geeky....but still fun ;)
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Monday, September 22, 2008
Quick Tales
Got to know about the quick tales contest from Cynic. The following was my entry. Post is longer than usual...lemme know what you think...The theme given for the entry was Journal.
-38-
He couldn’t see much in the dark room. The eight year old wanted to play with the big boys. They wanted him to prove his worth. Now, he was stuck in this damp, uninhabited supposedly haunted cottage in the middle of the night for 3 hours. He could see a solitary bulb hanging from the ceiling. He felt the wall for a semblance of a switch. After 10 minutes of frantic search, the room was lit, albeit only partially. The room was barren. An old tattered journal was lying on the floor. Strangely enough it was nailed to the floor.
He tried to make himself comfortable on the floor. The light was just about enough to read the brittle yellow pages. The cover had 38 written on it. The texture however was lumpy and looked like the paint had dried long time ago. It was impossible to lift the diary off the floor. He could not fathom why anyone would nail a diary to the floor. The diary had a single entry. “Oh well” he thought, “The diary would help him kill some time at least”.
5 Aug, 1938:
I can see this short, stout boy entering my room. The townsfolk still think my ghost haunts this place. Ignorant fools. I wonder why someone in their right mind will even look at this shattered place let alone enter it. I am sick and tired of these people. They have no right to barge into my space! I am going to teach them a lesson they are never going to forget. This kid is getting on my nerves now. He is planning to sleep on the floor of MY room. I can’t let this happen. He will pay for this…
The kid broke into a cold sweat. His knew it was just a prank by the older guys. He could hear the wind blow through the hollow walls of this godforsaken place. He thought he heard the wooden floor creak. It sounded like a rusted wheelchair. He turned around but the light went out. He could feel someone’s eyes on him. The last thing he felt was cold metal on his face…
The old crippled man moved his wheelchair next to the journal. He tore the cover off the book and replaced it with a new one. It had 39 written on it…In blood.
-38-
He couldn’t see much in the dark room. The eight year old wanted to play with the big boys. They wanted him to prove his worth. Now, he was stuck in this damp, uninhabited supposedly haunted cottage in the middle of the night for 3 hours. He could see a solitary bulb hanging from the ceiling. He felt the wall for a semblance of a switch. After 10 minutes of frantic search, the room was lit, albeit only partially. The room was barren. An old tattered journal was lying on the floor. Strangely enough it was nailed to the floor.
He tried to make himself comfortable on the floor. The light was just about enough to read the brittle yellow pages. The cover had 38 written on it. The texture however was lumpy and looked like the paint had dried long time ago. It was impossible to lift the diary off the floor. He could not fathom why anyone would nail a diary to the floor. The diary had a single entry. “Oh well” he thought, “The diary would help him kill some time at least”.
5 Aug, 1938:
I can see this short, stout boy entering my room. The townsfolk still think my ghost haunts this place. Ignorant fools. I wonder why someone in their right mind will even look at this shattered place let alone enter it. I am sick and tired of these people. They have no right to barge into my space! I am going to teach them a lesson they are never going to forget. This kid is getting on my nerves now. He is planning to sleep on the floor of MY room. I can’t let this happen. He will pay for this…
The kid broke into a cold sweat. His knew it was just a prank by the older guys. He could hear the wind blow through the hollow walls of this godforsaken place. He thought he heard the wooden floor creak. It sounded like a rusted wheelchair. He turned around but the light went out. He could feel someone’s eyes on him. The last thing he felt was cold metal on his face…
The old crippled man moved his wheelchair next to the journal. He tore the cover off the book and replaced it with a new one. It had 39 written on it…In blood.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Sound Of Silence
She had been waiting forever to get him in this position. She had suffered enough. This was her time for revenge. He was right next to her, sleeping peacefully. She knew there would be consequences. Her mouth was right next to his face. And then she screamed her lungs out “STOP SNORING YOU DUMB ASS!”
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Vision and Re-Vision
They met online. It was an instant connection. He could see her smiling as she was typing. He could feel her every little move. He wanted to wake up in the morning and feel her next to him, forever. She said you see me for what I am. She dumped him because he was blind.
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Trafficking Bangalore
Driving here is like playing a video game in suspended animation. There are so many things that drive me up the wall. Thankfully, the iPod keeps me calm. This post is dedicated to the various specimens found here.
Lets start with the pedestrians. I seriously feel dogs are better at crossing roads than some of these guys. No seriously, I don't mean it as a derogatory term. Dogs are better. For that matter cows are better too. Why you ask? When dogs cross the road they do ONE thing..cross the road. No cell phone, no chatting...when we humans do it is like we own this patch of land covered by my airspace! Now if you honk politely the dog will run to either side of the road, but the pedestrians? Nah, that will be too simple won't it. They will first freeze in the middle of the road. As you speed up to pass them they will take on step closer to you so that you slow down AND they will freeze again. I seriously want to get down from the bike and help them cross the road! BAH! BTW the cows are better as they don't cross the road at all. They just stand there and PEE!
Now the two wheelers. The sole reason for the chaos on Bangalore roads (I'm one of them). As soon as the traffic comes to a stand still we become like water. Every nook and cranny will be filled up by one of us. If the road doesn't have a divider we will flow into the wrong lane too AND THEN pick a fight with the guy coming the right way! The sole reason to own a two wheeler in Bangalore is to live for the moment between red lights, specially now that most of the traffic lights have a countdown timer! That is one moment when even Rossi will be put to shame by what we can do with our Scootys and TVS Champs!
The Big people, read car wallahs. The most jealous people ever. They usually drive in formation. Slow enough for you to tear your hair from your helmet (Ha ha err sorry), but the space between them is just enough for that dog to cross the road but not for you to overtake them. YOU ARE SCREWING UP MY RACE!! but noooooo the oldies just don't get it! Why jealous you ask? well when they bought the care they did not realise that even a cycle wallah can easily overtake them in Bangalore. So now they just want you to follow them!
BTW we have our own language too....Honking..
1 short burst - be careful you are backing into my front tyre
2 short bursts - Coming through! move your ass!
One long continuous blow till the traffic starts moving - My ass is on fire/ I wanna PEE!
P.S. - The best bumper sticker I have seen - "Honk if you are constipated"
Lets start with the pedestrians. I seriously feel dogs are better at crossing roads than some of these guys. No seriously, I don't mean it as a derogatory term. Dogs are better. For that matter cows are better too. Why you ask? When dogs cross the road they do ONE thing..cross the road. No cell phone, no chatting...when we humans do it is like we own this patch of land covered by my airspace! Now if you honk politely the dog will run to either side of the road, but the pedestrians? Nah, that will be too simple won't it. They will first freeze in the middle of the road. As you speed up to pass them they will take on step closer to you so that you slow down AND they will freeze again. I seriously want to get down from the bike and help them cross the road! BAH! BTW the cows are better as they don't cross the road at all. They just stand there and PEE!
Now the two wheelers. The sole reason for the chaos on Bangalore roads (I'm one of them). As soon as the traffic comes to a stand still we become like water. Every nook and cranny will be filled up by one of us. If the road doesn't have a divider we will flow into the wrong lane too AND THEN pick a fight with the guy coming the right way! The sole reason to own a two wheeler in Bangalore is to live for the moment between red lights, specially now that most of the traffic lights have a countdown timer! That is one moment when even Rossi will be put to shame by what we can do with our Scootys and TVS Champs!
The Big people, read car wallahs. The most jealous people ever. They usually drive in formation. Slow enough for you to tear your hair from your helmet (Ha ha err sorry), but the space between them is just enough for that dog to cross the road but not for you to overtake them. YOU ARE SCREWING UP MY RACE!! but noooooo the oldies just don't get it! Why jealous you ask? well when they bought the care they did not realise that even a cycle wallah can easily overtake them in Bangalore. So now they just want you to follow them!
BTW we have our own language too....Honking..
1 short burst - be careful you are backing into my front tyre
2 short bursts - Coming through! move your ass!
One long continuous blow till the traffic starts moving - My ass is on fire/ I wanna PEE!
P.S. - The best bumper sticker I have seen - "Honk if you are constipated"
Friday, September 05, 2008
Live and let die?
She knows he will show up here. This was supposed to be the target. He can’t be allowed to take so many innocent lives. She can see his nervous face. Their eyes meet. A tear rolls out of his eyes. She blows herself up. She couldn’t let him make such a grave mistake after all.
Monday, September 01, 2008
Kashmir
He lies on the footpath
immaculately dressed
undeniably ready for success
but something is not right
Half of his head is hairless
The rotting skin no longer productive
He can't move his head any longer
The headache is excruciating
They said they can cure him
He will have to let go off a part of him
The part of his head that won't let him shoot for the stars
That part of him that may lead to his slow decay
The choice is his,
let the rot free as it wants to be
or wait for the his end
and the end of the part of him he did not want to give up
P.S. I did not want to write on what was going on in Kashmir conflict as my understanding is inadequate and I thought it will be insensitive. But I found a lot of people think the same way. The part that troubles me is that are we ready to leave people behind because we are doing well? Would this arrogant question have come up if our economy wasn't doing well?
immaculately dressed
undeniably ready for success
but something is not right
Half of his head is hairless
The rotting skin no longer productive
He can't move his head any longer
The headache is excruciating
They said they can cure him
He will have to let go off a part of him
The part of his head that won't let him shoot for the stars
That part of him that may lead to his slow decay
The choice is his,
let the rot free as it wants to be
or wait for the his end
and the end of the part of him he did not want to give up
P.S. I did not want to write on what was going on in Kashmir conflict as my understanding is inadequate and I thought it will be insensitive. But I found a lot of people think the same way. The part that troubles me is that are we ready to leave people behind because we are doing well? Would this arrogant question have come up if our economy wasn't doing well?
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Redifining Electronics
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