THE iNFINITY

The Bridge Over Untroubled Waters?

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 08 Jan 2014 21:55:00 +0000

"To see a world in a grain of sand
And a heaven in a wild flower:
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour."

- William Blake

The bridge was his favourite “my place” in the town. He loved to go and stand by its iron railings, whatever the weather. The warmth from pristine sun rays created a shade of chocolate to his black hair. However rare an occurrence, it was a memory he came to associate with warmth ever since. There was water, a vast expanse of it as far as one could see, and then there were trees, with

leaves of all colours and some without any – fall had set in. And every time he used his camera to take pictures of the place, he went back home to discover something new. Something that the unassuming gaze of his eyes had missed but the detail hungry viewfinder of his camera probably hadn’t. This time was no different. Browsing through his pictures for the day, he saw one, of

chains, locked in place, to the railing.

Andrew loved memories. Memories preserved in the chronological order of their occurrence. They grew vague with time, he tended to forget a few of them and added a few imaginary ones, and ended up with a rather interesting story of his own, but he loved them, nonetheless – memories. And that probably was the reason for his love for photography. The pictures were the method to his madness and helped him keep the “my stories” in order. Well, just about.

He was still staring at this particular photograph on his iPad when he saw the time. He had to call up his family back home. It was their weekly tradition ever since he had moved away. They waited for his call at this hour each Sunday evening; so that they could hear from him and ensure that he

was well. The chains reminded him of the family. They never wanted to let him go.

“There’s a lot of things you can photograph here.” They'd exclaim. “Nobody is ever going to stop you. And you can learn all you want over the internet. Why do you need to go to a foreign land to be a photographer, of all the things in the world!?”

But he was a free spirit, Andrew. In his mind, he had charted his path, the trajectory, the course, all the mathematics that a migratory bird figures out in its brain before it sets out for warmer

climates.

He called them up, exchanged pleasantries as usual and then let them know he was fine. His mother asked him if he was eating well, if he had made any new friends and if he was avoiding bad company. These were routine questions with routine replies that he had on the tips of his finger, like

the mud sticking out of his unkempt nails. They had been talking about ten minutes and at the back of his mind, he knew he'd be done with the ordeal soon, to go back to his pictures and the chains. Just when he decided to say goodbye and hang up, his father asked about his work. That wasn't a

part of the script! They hated his work for all that he did. It was the very reason for this call, which would not have happened otherwise.

“I’m doing well, Dad.” Said Andrew, in an exaggerated tone. “You need to be really creative with this stuff, think different, and give routine happenings a completely different perspective, but I'm trying my best.”

It was probably the first time he had talked to his father about work. His kind of work.

“I’m sure you are. You don’t give up easily, do you? I got a Facebook account now. Show me those pictures when you have the time.”

His father had never been that interested in pictures. His pictures. Andrew was about to say that he was a professional photographer and didn’t deem it right to share them over Facebook, but he was too overwhelmed to say anything.

“Sure thing, Dad. I'll share them all! Take care.”

As he disconnected the call and looked at the roof to soak in all that had happened, he looked back at his iPad. The chains. There were so many of them, and they all had different locks.

“Maybe it’s a cycle stand for the enthusiasts?”

But he had never seen a bicycle parked around that place.

“I should go back to see what it is!” Andrew thought to himself.

It was cold and dark outside. He stole a glance at the thermometer mounted outside his window.

“Four degrees below zero? Makes it all the more interesting.”

He wore that wry smile that had been missing for a while now; fastened his coat, picked up his camera, and closed his apartment door behind him as he left.

A closer look at the spot helped. But so did a different perspective. It was the lover’s point. How had he missed it of all the things in the world! The hopelessly-in-love had wished for their love to be locked up securely, away from all the troubles of the world. She ought to be here as well. With him. Ruby would love it. To be here; locking away their love for each other in a secure, safe, warm place.

Ten years down the line...

“So, can I take the blindfold off me now?” Ruby asked Andrew, as he finally made her stop and turn a little to her left.

She had been made to walk, blindfolded, for what seemed to her like an eternity. But it seemed like they were where he wanted her to be. Having waited for a reply to her question, she couldn’t be the patient one anymore, and pulled the scarf off her eyes.

“Wow! This is beautiful.” She gushed, as she saw the rusted chains and the locks tying them in place.

“Why didn't I ever see a picture of this?”

“This is where I realised how looking at things differently helps. And I wanted you to see it for real!”

“You could have at least told me about it. I don't have anything to tie here.” She didn’t seem to like the fact that seeing is all that she was going to be doing.

“But, I have this.”

He held a key in front of her puzzled face. Her hand mechanically opened as he placed it in the centre of her palm.

“Now all you need to do is look for a lock with your name on it.”

“You've already tied one on the bridge?”

“Yes.”

“What! Where? What colour is it then?” “I don't really remember the colour."

“Oh, gosh. Some love that is.”

“There were a lot less of these when I was here last time!”

“Sometimes, you're stupid.”

“I know. Now, make a wish and throw the key in the water.”

“But I want to see our padlock first.”

“I have another padlock.”

“Where?”

“In my bag.”

“Since when?”

“Since you called me stupid. Come on.” “What? Where are we going?”

“Start a love-lock bridge elsewhere.”

“Where?”

“You can choose. Well, from a few options that I have in my mind.”

“Crafty. But, why does your camera always have to come along with us, too.”

Listening to: Bridge over Troubled Water

Dedicated to: Simon and Garfunkel

Images Courtesy: asdClicks - that's what I plan to call my soon to be launched photo blog.

PS: The story helped me score a cent percent score in my creative writing course at JYU. Close to my heart? Hell yeah!

Thank You Sachin

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Fri, 15 Nov 2013 11:35:00 +0000

"It seems while Time was having his toll on every individual on the face of this planet, he excused one man. Time stands frozen in front of Sachin Tendulkar. We have had champions, we have had legends, but we have never had another Sachin Tendulkar and we never will."

- Time Magazine

I was listening to the lecturer talk about cloud based software when a customary glance at my phone gave me the goosebumps. India were about to start batting, because well, West Indies had folded yet again. More importantly, there was time, ample time, for Sachin Tendulkar to come out to bat. One last time, in all probability. And just like that, out of nowhere, the very nice Finn that my lecturer is, he told us he was done for the day, and we could go our ways and meet again next week. Actually, he said a lot more. But I probably wasn't listening that well. The universe had conspired to let me watch him bat - one last time?I grabbed my jacket and a zillion other winter accessories that you probably need to don before venturing into the cold and set home on my bicycle. Thinking about it on the way, took me back in time.

I used to be this chubby school kid who loved rushing home from school, on his bicycle to watch Tendulkar bat in one of those numerous day-night one dayers in Sharjah. Stopping on the way back to ask a shopkeeper the score and sighing with relief after hearing him say, "Tendulkar maar reha hai!". I still am a student. I still ride a bicycle. And if the Finns had arbitrarily planned shops around roads, I'd still have stopped by to ask if Tendulkar had come out to bat (I did that on my phone anyway). Sixteen years on, nothing seems to have changed. Time indeed stands frozen in front of Sachin Tendulkar.

I don't really remember when I started liking cricket. In fact, now that I think about it, I never quite did. It was Sachin that I began following and cricket was just a part of the parcel. There are various theories to why we Indians are so fond of cricket. We lack the stamina for real sport probably? And for a billion people believed to be good with numbers and mathematics, cricket offers all the statistics that let you take your mental mathematics to a different level altogether. My mother would absolutely vouch for that fact. But yeah, Tendulkar had me hooked on. So much so, that I valued watching him play more than India winning. A victory was just an icing on the cake called a Tendulkar century. Every season of my life that I can reflect back on, has a corresponding Tendulkar memory attached to it. Like the summers spent half-camping in Palampur, where a radio did it's best to explain to me how an emotional Tendulkar reacted after scoring a century, when he had just returned from his father's funeral. Or watching him flatten the egos out off Pakistan's famous pace trio during the '03 World Cup, a moment that gave me a much required inspiration to get out of the rut and finally pass my exams. And those hilariously predictable days when he'd get into the 90s and you'd know he's going to walk any moment now, teaching you how important it is to keep trying, every damn time, no matter what.

My Tendulkar memories are about his success and failures and not India's because for me he was the superhero that I looked up to. In a team sport, he came out as the self-assured figure full of calm and a quite will. There was this short period of time when Saurav Ganguly almost managed to discover the cricket lover in me, but he couldn't quite succeed. I sometimes question myself, why I couldn't come to like another cricketer if not cricket. It's probably because none of them have been such phenomenal show men, and the ones that probably are, are just too inhuman. The idea of a Virat Kohli pumping fists, after scoring a century before opening up with choicest of expletives just doesn't appeal to me. When did I last see Sachin pump his fists, if at all? Probably when he foxed a batsmen with his leg-spin. Bowling was something that he wasn't supposed to be good at, batting was a routine - not to be celebrated.

There is a lot I'd like to remember Tendulkar for. The drives, the upper-cuts, the smile, the weird short paced sprint, the awkward stance... and the list goes on. The slight raise of the bat with eyes saying thank you to the heavens, before coming back to mortal life and acknowledging the crowd. That, is the moment I'd like to take with me to sleep when looking for inspiration. They call him God, master, genius and a few other things. I don't know which of these I can actually relate to - he was fallible, gullible and pretty much human. Somebody who tried hard and harder than each last try. He was Sachin.

I got back to my apartment and managed to find a live stream, just in time to watch the on-drive unleashed. The stumps were drawn soon, and I set my alarm for the next day's start of play, Indian Standard Time. The alarm never rang, I never woke up to see him score a few more and walk back, and I'll not try to search for the highlights. As somebody who lives a life that relies heavily on Sachin Tendulkar moments for inspiration, I'd like to live the rest of my life thinking about the on drive - give it back to life as hard as it comes at you.

Listening to: Bonfire Heart, James Blunt

Dedicated to: Doesn't need mentioning

Images Courtesy: Google Image Search

PS: I finally got my act together to write a tribute. Just in time I believe.

Keep at It

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sun, 22 Sep 2013 09:55:00 +0000

"It is not wanting to win that makes you a winner; it is refusing to fail."

- Unknown

Let there be trees around,

Mighty, Dense, Shady.

Don't you dare beg for shade,

Not even a leaf's worth of it,

No, Never.

And continue treading your path,

The path of honesty,

The path of truth,

The path of fire.

Thou shall not tire,

Thou shall not halt,

Thou shall not regress,

Swear on thyself, O Warrior!

Swear that you will tread your path,

The path of fire.

There is none so colossal a spectacle

As, of the man treading his path,

Soaked in a sublime rain,

Of tears, sweat and blood.

And yet trudging,

Treading his path,

of truth, of honesty,

The path, of fire.

This is the translation, or to put it more aptly, my interpretation of Agneepath by Harivansh Rai Bachchan.

The original, written in Hindi in the Devanagari script reads as follows:

अग्निपथ

वृक्ष हों भले खड़े,
हों घने, हों बड़े,
एक पत्र छाँह भी
मांग मत! मांग मत! मांग मत!
अग्निपथ! अग्निपथ! अग्निपथ!

तू न थकेगा कभी,
तू न थमेगा कभी,
तू न मुड़ेगा कभी,
कर शपथ! कर शपथ! कर शपथ!
अग्निपथ! अग्निपथ! अग्निपथ!

यह महान दृश्य है,
चल रहा मनुष्य है,
अश्रु, स्वेद, रक्त से
लथ-पथ, लथ-पथ, लथ-पथ,
अग्निपथ! अग्निपथ! अग्निपथ!

English transliteration:

Agneepath!

Vriksh hon bhale khade,
Hon ghane, hoh bade,
Ek patra chhah bhi
Maang mat! Maang mat! Maang mat!
Agneepath! Agneepath! Agneepath!

Tu na thakega kabhi,
Tu na thamega kabhi,
Tu na mudega kabhi,
Kar shapath! Kar shapath! Kar shapath!
Agneepath! Agneepath! Agneepath!

Yeh mahaan drishya hai,
Chal raha manushya hai
Ashru, swed, rakt se
Lath-path, lath-path, lath-path,
Agneepath! Agneepath! Agneepath!

Listening to: Don't Stop Believin', Glee Cast

Dedicated to: All wannabe poets, who ended up translating the greats.

Images Courtesy: This one is from my camera!

P.S.: This is my second class assignment for XENX041 Creative Writing in English. And the assignment is - Translate a poem from your mother tongue into English. Also write in English a summary of the poem and answer these questions: What message does the poem convey? What emotions does it engender? What mental images does it create (including sound, smell, taste, touch, sight)?

The Patient Doctor

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sun, 15 Sep 2013 09:16:00 +0000

"There's an opposite to déjà vu. They call it jamais vu. It's when you meet the same people or visit places, again and again, but each time is the first. Everybody is always a stranger. Nothing is ever familiar."

- Chuck Palahniuk, Choke

I was standing at the bus stop when I saw her approach from the far end. Her face was red with cold and the brown eyes looked like a lake about to freeze. She was sneezing every now and then. Poor little thing. She opened her bag to pull out a strip of tablets from her rather huge bag. Looked like paracetamol. And then a bottle of water. But then she threw it away in a fit of rage. Yeah, they deliver bad luck in dollops these days, gift wrapped and all.

Just as she moved around to zip the bag up, this Greek warrior's helmet tumbled out of it and fell to the ground. Not an authentic metal piece really. But that wasn't the case with the mortar and pestle set that came out next. It looked like the one from my grand mother's kitchen. Maybe I could tell her a trick or two with the natural herbs to get rid of the cold?

As the bus arrived, and people began boarding, I began thinking of all the natural cures I knew that could be of any help to her. She boarded the bus and sat next to me. Destiny? No! Get on with the job doctor.

The bus came to a halt with a jerk bringing me back from my reverie. The seat next to me was empty. So was the whole bus. But there it was, right next to me, the big black bag.

Listening to: Waterloo Sunset, The Kinks

Dedicated to: My classmates at XENX041 - Creative Writing in English.

Images Courtesy: Google Image Search

PS: This is my first class assignment for the afore mentioned course. And the writing prompt was - Reconstruct the owner of this bag (and possibly their day leading up to this event). Also, how did the bag end up here in the classroom and where is the owner?

A Finnish Fall

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sun, 15 Sep 2013 08:30:00 +0000

In the dim background of our mind, we know what we ought to be doing but somehow, we cannot start.

- William James

How do I start? It's been way too long. Nobody probably comes back to the iNFINITY to read any more.

But I need to begin somewhere because I really want to. Come back and write i.e.

A lot has changed in the time gone by. And I'm not really going to elaborate here. I worked, gave up on writing and then decided to stop working to study some more. One last time maybe? Who knows.

And then I decided to join this creative writing class at the university where I'm studying. No, it has nothing to do with what I am studying, it's all what I've always wanted to do.

As part of my tasks in the class, I need to write and post it somewhere? That is when I decided to come back here. To the iNFINITY. Right. Nothing can be more interesting than writing blog posts for home work!

I plan to write frequently. Homework mostly, but other stuff at times, as well. If you readers do come back, you'll be able to connect with me as time goes by. And for the new ones, well, rewind in time and you'll probably know better.

Must go on to do the homework now. And until we meet again...
Moi Moi

(Yes. I'm in Finland!)

Listening to: Baker Street, Gerry Rafferty

Dedicated to: The Sun shining outside my window. Never loved it so much.

Images Courtesy: Google Image Search

Back to Bedlam

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 28 Jan 2010 09:41:00 +0000

To think the world therefore a general Bedlam, or place of madmen, and oneself a physician, is the most necessary point of present wisdom: an important imagination, and the way to happiness.

- Thomas Traherne

That, sums it up, I believe. I have lost count of the number of things / people / processes / results I have tried being during the time I have been away from writing in here.

There are those you believe genuinely care for you, of course there's no way of knowing unless you are good at looking trough the soul. So you either believe, or you don't. Then there are those who want to know, know it all. Like well informed citizens of the republic, just that you happen to be the subject of their concern, awkwardly, almost day in and day out. And then there are the paparazzi sans cool imaging devices, working for fancy little tabloids of their own mind. To their credit, they work hard, have a huge majority and coordinate and cooperate well for their numbers, and yes, they get you - all the time.

I fell prey too. To some of the above or now when I look at it, all of the above kind of people. Tried doing things. Nay, tried making them happen ahead of time, out of nowhere maybe. Of course the world goes by what it sees, and that notion gets to you every now and then. It did get to me.

It might get to me again.

For now though, I'm back to bedlam. So come on over all you foolish people. Those who need the therapy and those who don't. Because I, for one, am the master of me again, and for now, I'm doing things - my way.

Of course life is bizarre, the more bizarre it gets, the more interesting it is. The only way to approach it is to make yourself some popcorn and enjoy the show.

Listening to: Anyone Else But You, Juno OST

P. S. No dedications for now but a small thank you to James Blunt. Yup, that blog post title is stolen :)

_

One for the cause

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 18 Jan 2010 14:46:00 +0000

Of late, I have been looking for excuses to get back to blogging. Yesterday, a good one arrived in my mailbox. Here's what a mail i was forwarded via indiblogger.in says:

One of India’s most trusted and credible NGOs, GiveIndia is taking part in a competition on Facebook to win a US$1 million grant. The winner will be the NGO that gets the highest number of votes from Facebook users. The prize of $1 million will help put or keep 40,000 children across India in school for one year!

Voting in the competition is for one week only, from Friday, January 15 – Friday, January 22, 2010. Can we make a difference in the next 5 days? We sure hope so!

The link for voting, where you can also see more details of the competition is

http://apps.facebook.com/chasecommunitygiving/charities/338730

Something you can easily take time of for while online for one of your countless social networking session... GO VOTE!

Listening to: Back Home Again, John Denver

P. S. Hell yeah! I'm back for sure :)

A momentary lapse INTO reason

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sun, 25 Oct 2009 14:36:00 +0000

All our reasoning ends in surrender to feeling.

- Blaise Pascal

As it slides across the frame each morning,
While I am still asleep, snoaring
It sure does get my thoughts bowling,
as I toss around in the bed moaning,
swearing at, what, of late, has become,
My window to the world.

Fowls have got food to gather
Yet another day for mutts to fight the weather
cabbies readying to tain their patrons
The teacher readying to play the matron
The milkman, the guard, even the garbage guy
are kings when balancing the lemon on their spoon.
Why me, just me, did you single out O stupid fireball,
to burn through on thy wheel of fortune?

Ain't there a code of misconduct you ought to say?
Ain't there a game to play afore your prey?
Is that how plain you get to decide my destiny?
Shouldn't your ways be the cause for my mutiny?
Questions fly around in disarray - questions absurd,
as I finaly sit up and look out to the horizon,
far and out, through my, window to the world...

Listening to: Let's Make a Night, Bryan Adams, The Best Of Me

Dedicated to: Sitting in my room today, I just realised this huge sliding french window is something I have never really noticed, although I've been rotting in here for like five months now. The post by the way, is dedicated to Jaadoo, someone who loved sliding windows... :P

My DD moment

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sun, 20 Sep 2009 12:25:00 +0000

India's grand old entertainer, Doordarshan celebrated it's Golden jubilee last week. Yeah, it's celebrating fifty years of it's existence as India's official broadcaster. No, I don't watch Doordarshan or in fact much of TV for that matter... I came to know about it from a private FM channel again.

The radio jockey was going all praise over DD turning 50 and asking listeners to phone in and tell everyone about their favourite DD moment. The faint first memories that I have of myself watching DD are glimpses from the everybody at home assembling in front of the TV for watching there favourite Buniyaad go a step farther. [Yes, Ekta Kapoor neither invented nor discovered family dramas.] Of course I remember Shanti too, Mandira Bedi never got tired of coming back on to the screen every afternoon, day after day after day. [UTV again beat Ekta Kapoor to daily soaps] And then there was Sports Broadcasts, whether it was the Hero Cup, The 1996 Wills World Cup, Leander Paes's bronze at Atlanta Olymics of '96 or Zidane's moment of glory at Fifa '08. DD was here there and everywhere, juggling time and resources pretty efficiently I'd say.

Having a 'Cable Connection' was considered something elite and taboo at the same time at the lunch break conversations of us 7th graders.

And then things began to change. Cable TV became as much about Discovery, BBC and National Geographic as it was about Star World and AXN. You just had to have it to have a taste of 'The World'. WWF(E) was never a DD trademark and so wasn't Prannoy Roy's NDTV. And the good old terrestial antenna caught in the web of cable signals carrying coaxial wires, slowly lost it's esteemed place atop the rooftops. You had to have 5 different Sports, News, Family Entertainment, Movie and Foreign channels to complete a TV viewing experience. [I do love cable TV for ESPN, HBO and WB though.]

And slowly, DD was left to be that official broadcaster of the nation that nobody had the time to see.Of course it isn't anywhere near with regards to quality of the content or presentation that we have on the Satellite channels. And who needs to be blamed for that, is anybody's guess..

So what's my favourite DD moment? Quite a few come to mind when I think of that...

One fine afternoon, you could only see the pictures and not hear anything. I later got to know that Rajiv Gandhi had been assassinated. Don't know how, but I happen to remember that.

Of course being home on Sunday mornings to watch Jungle Book, Duck Tales and Tales Pin is something I can't forget. I still cant find a Cartoon channls that airs those shows.

Some of the really well presented social service messages that were aired after every hour or so. Remember "एक चिडिया - अनेक चिडिया" and "मिले सुर मेरा तुम्हारा" ?

Watching the friday night movies that went on for about 5 hours thanks to the plethora of advertisements that DD used to get back then.

Buying a Radio that broadcast DD so that I didn't miss '99 WC during my summer sojourn at Palampur, where we didn't have a TV.

Remember the "Sorry for Interruption - रुकावट के किये खेद है" screen that used to pop up so often? It became a part of the Indian legend and folklore for ever. Modern day satellite channels hang up too, it's just that they aren't courteous enough!

Well none of these happen to be the actual DD moment for me. It's way too recent, when I lamented India's early exit at ICC WC '07 and decided to do something about it. So I got a TV Tuner card from my uncle's and we built a special set top dipole antenna, that could easily catch the free-to-air DD terrestial signals. And sure enough, I witnessed India's triumph at the ICC World T20 right there in my room, without a cable wire. And to this day, I haven't been able to decide what satisfied me more...

So what's you DD moment? Come on, say!

Listening to: Feelin' Way Too Damn Good, Nickelback, The Long Road

Dedicated to: That big terrestrial antenna that once brought home Doordarshan. Gosh I miss you :P

All about WEIRD analogies

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 03 Sep 2009 06:44:00 +0000

Analogies, it is true, decide nothing, but they can make one feel more at home.

- Sigmund Freud

Life's all about analogies they say. Comparisons with the past, living up to the present, planning the future - it's all about analogies. Peers, who's who, role models, siblings all set examples for you and sometimes maybe, you want to give it back to them.

What if the examples come from weird sources. What if you need to read a handbook or manual when a certain analogy or it's premise seems to be way over the top? Surveys show responses might vary. [Yes I've conducted a thorough survey of my own, alright.]

You might do one of the following -

Ridicule the whole thing, abuse and move on.
Ridicule the whole thing and move on.
Don't feel like wasting your precious time even though you find it interesting.
Go buy and lookup that damn manual, because you so want to get to the root of it.

If you do belong to the one of the last two crowds - chances are you might just want to check out this new storehouse of weird analogies on the www.

winZoo's own home on the internet, he calls it, Living Like Windows.

Happens to be a self confessed techie's foray into the market of troubleshooting [hold you breath...] people's lives, the geek way.

I do have some more inside scoops on the supposed next big philanthropic help site on the www. [That was the customary spoiler alert.] But winZoo hasn't paid me enough to advertise his new venture that well. So this is where I leave you wondering.

And by the way, the launch is tomorrow evening - Friday the 4th. Do pay a customary visit to enhance my chances of a fat commission check. And No, you needn't blast me in here on my blog if you don't like what you see in there. I'm just a shrewd businessman making some money for myself. (Did I tell you I share my birthday with Bill Gates?) :P

Listening to: I'm a Liar, Bryan Adams - A Day Like Today

Dedicated to: winZoo... 'coz I'm being paid to do it!

P.S. This is an advert and philanthropy is the subject matter of the solicitation. :P

Heartbreak at it's very best.

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Fri, 21 Aug 2009 17:22:00 +0000

When I'd planned on a comeback posting schedule with my previous post, this was not where I'd decided to start. But some things are best done unplanned, and this seemed one of them. [Don't ask me about the others ;)]

It all started a day before, I guess, when I read an article on the Bomaby Times front page, by, errrr... Saif Ali Khan. It was about a childhood friend, who happened to be a cute girl. The kids never saw each other because Saif's parents shifted base and the poor boy had just a photograph of his friend as a memory...

Brought back memories of my childhood. Lotsa friends in the town that I was born and the next one, where I grew up, whose names I don't really remember and faces i faintly do. But I'd surely love to give it a try to go see them after like, 20 odd years...

Anyways, back to today, when I was watching Neil Patrick Harris, the How I Met Your Mother star [well for me he's a real life guru, that all senti guys should have] , on Star World, when this advertisement for Airtel Digital TV went on air.

Hmmm... Saif Ali Khan's article, it turned out was a gimmick (which I had kinda guessed) for this very add. But that's where it becomes rather touchy. He somehow finds the girl thanks to the photograph, a locket, and Airtel Digital TV and serendipity of course. But, just when he's about to rush to the girl (who apparently anticipates something exciting too, given the look on Saif's face), Kareena Kapoor enters the frame. (yes, from nowhere!) Poor loyal [?] lover boy Saif quietly slips the photograph of his childhood sweetheart into his back pocket and moves towards Kareena... while the girl he had been searching for so long, too curbs her excitement and moves away... the whole scene ends with the background jingle... Dil Titli... Dil Titli Sa. (The heart's a butterfly) [the translation because I believe my blog does have some readership abroad! lol]

I don't really want to comment more on the advertisement. How I felt about it? Well, I haven't really written about an advertisement here on THE iNFINITY, so you can probably guess. Watching it I felt that I won't like to go through it all ever, although deep inside I know I make similar choices everyday, thanks to my heart that flutters like a butterfly, all the time.

Though there's one thing about he advertisement I can't stop myself from saying. Kareena Kapoor in the role of her life, as the evil vamp! She should do more such roles... looks good in those. [She still remains one my favourite on screen actresses for her role in Jab We Met.]

This post was never meant to be and I still end up writing a truly boring autopsy for an advertisement... hmmm. Dil Titli... Dil Titli Sa.

Listening to: The title track from Dil Bole Hadippa. How does Titli Bole Hadipa sound like?

Dedicated to: The Titli that our hearts are.

P.S. The blog entry is in no way an endorsement of Airtel Digital TV. I could have used a generic name, but that would have spoilt the fun. I still watch TV through my good old cablewallah by the way...

Images Courtesy: Google and deviantART

Update: My post was quicker than even youtube. Anyways, found the video for this advert on youtube just now... check it out if you didn't already see on TV.

I guess I'm not done... just yet.

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 17 Aug 2009 14:21:00 +0000

and you thought I had hung up my boots after the century? No grudges in here for thinking such weird stuff, because these past few days, that's what I've been doing and thinking as well... weird.

Why I've not been posting anything on THE iNFINIY all this time? Well, a combination of lame and not so lame excuses - have been lazy, haven't been well, had to undergo a nightmare (they call it surgery in medical terms), have been speculating a lot, haven't been thinking that much, have allowed my jobless tag get to me, have been listening to lots of people instead of just hearing them...

In a nutshell, I've been screwing and letting life screw me...

And then I remembered I certainly had things to do... probably a lot better than what I've been doing. This ain't really something worth reading... just a reminder to all my readers that I'm still here... and gonna be back writing soon... I do believe its better than most things I do.

Don't think there are many regular readers left on THE iNFINITY. But, asd's willing to do whatever it takes to get them back...

No bangs, but yes, I'm back! :D
[Silly punchline to end with, I know, but you know, I'm outta form]

Listening to: Ye Dooriyan, Kaminey. Courtesy: Radio Mirchi

Dedicated to: The hapless radio jockey on the same station. Man! I'm a fan of their stamina and shameless stupidity.

P.S. The preview pic that I put up was t attract more readers... nothing to do with a movie review as you must have realised by now. Ya kamina... dazz me!

Gone, are my whiskers :(

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 29 Jun 2009 18:06:00 +0000

A man without a moustache is like a cup of tea without sugar.

- Read in an old Reader's Digest a few days back. Can't recall the personality they attributed it to. So for now, attributed to Anonymous.

So out of the blues one day,just like that, I decided that I'll heed my doctor's advice and won't shave for good. He had been telling me to avoid it until I got rid of my summer supply of pimples, but being presentable in college constitutes a huge chunk of any dude's check list. And so I'd been shaving each alternate day to keep looking like the gentleman that I am.

And then the stubble, which slowly grew into a much heralded beard. "Impressive growth rate", I complimented myself.

Then one fine day, they told us it was time to bid farewell to the college, with of course an official farewell from the college, that sadly had, an official dress code. Yup! I had to shave.

Going through the routine, a shimmering Gilette Mach3 in hand, I checked out my face with a moustache. Just a moustache. The shaving cream smeared on the rest of the face. It looked... errr.. impressive to say the least. "Does a moustache violate the term clean shaven? " I asked myself. "Probably it does. Probably it doesn't. But well worth the risk all the same."

"Let's do it". I told myself.

So there I was at my official farewell party with a big black moustache. It did earn me a lot more photo opportunities than normal, apart from, of course, the glares and stares.

And to this day I'd been sporting the same bushy black moustache. Just that some (mis)happenings tell me it's the wrong era to be going around showing it off...

Friends were generous in showering accolades. How much they ridiculed my latest 'experiment with my looks' is something I'll never really get a masure of. Kids tried calling me uncle. Girls came forth with their particularly unappealing smiles. And some were blunt enough to do away with the smiles, altogether. And to top it all, my own mother seemed perturbed with me, the moment I set foot, in my new home.

So, with a heavy heart and even heavier hands, that seemed more like the butcher's hands, making the lamb say it's final prayers a million times, before they actually do it in, I chopped off my prized possession of the past few months.

"The Mumbai clime made it impossible to maintaion one, and I wasn't one to trim them off", is what I tell people who ask me the whereabouts of my face's bookmark. For the record though, I had to do it out of compulsion. A compulsion called keeping your near ones happy - at whatever the cost!

They say a man without a moustache is like a cup of tea without sugar. But then, isn't that what the doctors prescribe us for a healthy life these days? Hmmm... consolation enough.

Listening to: Mean Mr. Moustache, The Beatles

Dedicated to: Nathulal. That legendary guy with whiskers to die for...

P.S. I happen to be too modest a guy to post my own picture sporting the moustache on my own blog. :P Check out my Facebook badge down below to get a first hand view of the look.

A hundred, a bit down BUT not out :)

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 24 Jun 2009 12:16:00 +0000

If I need a cause for celebration

Or a comfort I can use to ease my mind

I rely on my imagination

And I dream of an imaginary time.

- Billy Joel

About the same time last year, home for the summer break at the end of the third semester in college, I ran into this brilliantly done up article in the Sunday express about the new phenomenon in online advertising. It went gaga over how google was helping small website publishers substantial sums. In a nutshell, the article was all about Google AdSense.

Having gone through the piece, I began weighing my options...

I'd always believed I could write alright. And more often than not, I did. Lots of useless scribbling at the back of my notebooks, that, more often than not, ran me into trouble. Here was a chance to put it to monetary use I thought. I'd earn my own pocket money and make it big in life [Okay. A bit of exaggeration here and there never killed a human being. Bear with me. Please do.]

So there I was, setting up THE iNFINITY in about a week, without researching deep into everything concerning the so called enterprise. So when I should have gone for a niche blog ['cos apparently, that's what pays] I was busy setting up a general 'free for all' sorts blog. And when done with that part, I began to think myself smart, way too smart, when I began clicking on my own advertisements hoping that Google won't know. The rest as they say, isn't history. It's still a bittersweet memory, when instead of getting a notification for a payout check as I had been expecting, I received a mail saying that my AdSense account was being shut down for 'Invalid Click Activity' in a no questions asked / answered manner. And just like that, I was on the streets again.

So much for the melodrama...

Friends who had earned and earned big, suggested making a new account and blog, with of course the advice that I ought to consider google the smartest the next time round. Call it height of laziness, or sheer love for something I thought belonged to me, I decided to persevere. And so, iNFINITY continued on it's turtle pace, to reach a small but significant milestone a few days back.

I wrote my hundredth post. Within a year. And my blog marked about five thousand unique hits within that period too. A Google PR of high of 3. And to top it all, some dilligent followers of whatever crap I may dish out. [Of course, I have to keep doing things to bring them back, when I go absent for my ever so frequent short sojourns...]

Without too many celebrations [that's becaue I'm jobless and broke as of now :P] I move on to the next milestone(s), with some interesting goals in mind. Also, I thank from the bottom of my heart [no puns intended] each and everyone, who stumbles by my blog, every now and then, and cares to read or even comment sometimes.

And while at it, I ask you all, the readers, to put forth some suggestions to make iNFINITY better. [Save the 'blog's too big, takes ages to load' comment though, I'm working on it and haven't got anywhere].

For now, as I see the Mumbai rains through my balcony, and think of interesting things to write home about, there's just a small reminder every now then in the form of the flickering modem LEDs - "Do something about the dough dude, you're still broke." :P

Listening to: Hai Junoon, New York - courtesy some stupid FM station.

Dedicated to: Google and AdSense, that insensitive pair of Americans.

P.S. : Individual comments would be rewarded with a link back to their blog(S) in the same post. [That's how I plan to bring readers back this time]

The Moving Chronicles - Final Farewell...

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 16 Jun 2009 08:18:00 +0000

For ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace: the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.

-Bible (Old Testament)

Part IV

continued from Part III

It was about the same time four years back that I receieved my rank sheet for the JUIT entrance test. It said I was eligible for counselling and had to be present in flesh and blood (the pun is intended, indeed.) on the given date. That started a heated round of arguments at home.

Having spent about four years at Shimla prior to this, I obviously didn't want to go back to a place I thought I had left for good. But then, I hadn't done too well in any of my other competitive exams and I still wanted to be an engineer. And as Papa put it, "Beggars can't afford to be choosers".

In about a month, I was trying to make myself feel at home at JUIT, Waknaghat. [yeah queerly named location for a college you'd say, and I agree...]

More or less, the four years passed about in a jify. And for all their memorable moments, I'd probably like to forget the four years as fast as I lived them. Living in the moment was one of the better lessons that college probably taught me.

I passed out of JUIT a week ago. (yeah! I'm an engineer finally, and the grades weren't all that bad :P) Tomorrow I leave Shimla, JUIT, the hills and all the memories far behind as I move to, what I'd like to believe are, greener pastures. And though I've never quite liked the hills as a place to live - you need to walk a lot (and yet you don't sweat!), the weather changes like girls's prefernces, life's slow, a bit too slow for my liking, and to admit it, I find driving here hell lotta difficult, there's just a bit of nostalgia that I can already feel.

But, for all my reasons for being disenchanted with the hills, living here during the past eight years made me realise something really important... - if there's somewhere that I belong, it's here.

And as Ruskin Bond put it in one of his stories that I read in one of my C.B.S.E. books - "Once you've lived in the hills at some point in your life, you come to belong to them, and wherever you go, your heart keeps tellling you to go back to them."

Until the hill dweller or Pahadiya in me makes me come back one day... it's a sweet bye bye to the Hills.

For now, it's Destination Mumbai!

Concluded.

Listening to: Here Without You, 3 Doors Down

Dedicated to: Shimla. They call it The Queen of Hills...

P.S. This happens to be my One Hundredth Post. Something I had in mind when I began with THE iNFINITY a year back. Bit busy packing right now, so celebrations later... cyao.

The Moving Chronicles

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 13 Jun 2009 17:50:00 +0000

A person is neither whole nor healthy without the memories of photo albums. They are the storybook of our lives. They provide a nostalgic escape from the tormented days of the present.

Patrick Garry

Part III

continued from Part II

We left Hisar the very next day, having put our 'home' and its wares on the move. There were bound to be some emotional scenes, but the real scenes surpassed anything that I had ever imagined. We were not just saying goodbye to a place but something that had become pretty much a way of life in the past four years or so.

The lovely Haryanvi dialect and the typical accent, which I, would rather describe as intoxicating. The way of life in the Jat heartland, where people can follow just about anything and everything except for rules. The ever so helpful neighbours. Mummam's daily routine of dusting the home twice and the frequent sandstorms putting paid to her efforts every now and then. Seeing the boys go after the girls on their bikes showing off their 'macho', perched on the roof with guitar in hand, which the old timers around described as tuntuna.

The AIR tower, Hisar

One of the many shots during my daily landscape photography sessions from atop the roof. Oh yes - I developed my love for photography here as well.

Living in a comparetively small town has its virginal charms. The roads are immune to traffic hold ups, driving is indeed a pleasure, you find the cost of living rather low, and if I were to believe Papa's inputs who has been puting up in Mumbai for almost a year now, "at the end of the day, you do get time off for yourself."

For me Hisar was all that and more... much more. I fell in love with kids. (previosly defined as 'altogether unfathomable creatures, that I just couldn't stand, come what may', in my life's dictionary.) And that happened, thanks to this cute little angel called Kanan that I got to know from the day she was born, and watched as she grew up to be the smartest two year old I've spent my time with. You really made me look forward to my holidays from college sweetie, even if it meant having to go to a place where they think supplying power for eight hours a day during summers is a big obligation. And I got that unforgettable high of life when Chunmun topped her CBSE boards. Seems just like yesterday...

that's her :)

Of course, there were other interesting things that I learnt during my brief, permanent stay in Hisar. Not everybody in the world is meant to gate crash into IITs. And life looks much more liveable when thought of and tried to live, the easy way out.

This was the whirlpool of thoughts that flooded my mind as I drove out of Hisar, for what seemed like - the last time. Mummam could afford to cry, being the female that she is, while I had to control myself. Gosh! I never bothered to find what Papa's face looked like. But for a change, no one looked at the speedometer while I was at the wheel that day, and in a flash, we had come faraway from another of our nomadic bases...

to be continued...

Listening to: Streets of Philadelphia, Bruce Springsteen

Dedicated to: Err... The cute lil' kid you see in the pic - Kanan

The Moving Chronicles

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 09 Jun 2009 10:40:00 +0000

Part II

continued from Part I

On to this particular round of moving...

Packing stuff is something I've just about been OK with ever since papa taught me the right way to go about it, a long time back. [Yeah, that goes to mean I hate it all the same.] Of course there is more to it than just stuffing cartons with things that you come across. If you know you're going to be shifting from your present home one day or the other - you tend to preserve the original packing for anything that you buy. And if it's a small house that you have, those cartons are going to be seen all around the place, much like ugly mantel pieces. Then you need to grade the stuff as fragile / handle with care and OK / throw it around and pack it likewise. Of course the prospect of stuff getting mixed up and never showing out of a carton for a long long time doesn't help either. So I decided to innovate the whole process this time round by putting my digicam to use. Each carton had a unique ID and the contents of that paticular carton were all clicked and labelled with the unique id. [I love to make things seem damn important, don't I? :D]

Slowly and steadily the stuff kept disappearing into cartons until one day I could feel that nothing much was left to do. Elementary, my dear Sood.

But this time the job was just a bit longer than usual. Having lived in the north of India for the past ten years, we'd stuff that Mumbai just didn't want. Woollens, winter ware et al. So we needed to dump all that at our place at Palampur. The mini truck ride through the night with all those horrible bumps and jolts and ruthless mosquitoes is something I won't forget for a long, long time.

But someone gave the mosquitoes a beating at sucking the blood out of us. It was, hold your breath... the royal constables (or whatever rank they were) of Punjab Police. Every 15 minutes, a policeman stopped us in the dead of the night flashed a strong search light at our dreary eyes and told us that he wanted to frisk the truck (when it wasn't even covered.) And when given the go ahead, not one was in a position to do so, given their inebriated state. All they were interested in was some chai - pani bakhshish (though I still wonder when was the last time that any of them had ever tasted liquid and not liqour)

We passed through some of the worst roads and unbuilt bridges, which the driver told me, were under construction for the past ten years or so. And yet, the same MLAs and MPs had been winning the elections in the area over and over. So much for the informed voter!

Palampur was a delight as usual in the summer heat and so was my own village where I got to meet my grandparents.

The same way back in the middle of the night, the same Punjab Police personnel who wanted to frisk an EMPTY truck and I was back home for the bigger job.

In two more days, the truck slated to leave for Mumbai arrived and soon all of what we called home was on the move for a destination about 1500 kilometers or three days away. I had to leave back some of my favourite potted plants, my cute (yes cute) bicycle. Papa said there wasn't any place for them in the new place. Too bad. :(

Continued Here

Listening to: Superman, Lazio Bane - The Scrubs title track.

Dedicated to: Err... I worked damn hard on this job, so Me. This one's dedicated to me.

The Moving Chronicles

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Fri, 05 Jun 2009 13:25:00 +0000

FLASHBACK:
July '08:
Papa receives an envelope at office carrying his transfer orders. He's has been officially transferred from Hisar to Mumbai. mumBAI? Don't they think of the word 'feasible' when asking employees to shift base?

Anyways... "Time to move papa", I tell myself. Why myself? Because more often than not I'm the one in the family who gets the most excited at the prospect of moving to a new place. I quickly begin enlisting the pros, my own reasons that make me think interestingly about moving... of course, again, to who else but, myself.

"Come on you've already grown bored of Hisar. Yeah it's an easy paced city, but it's rather boring to live at that pace in the initial phase of your live. BOMBAY! Just think of it man... you'd go home from college in a TRAIN! No more hurting your knees around in those state transport buses. BOMBAY! It'd be like a dream come true. More opportunities for a 'your kind of job' when you pass out. (Why I thought that back then, is still a mystery... even to me.) But most important and interesting of all, you'd be going to Yes! Bombay. What better place to start looking for ways to meet Tanniji than the city of dreams itself."

I had a hard time getting decent sleep that night. And the next day, I was already discussing packing and of course MOVING with Mummam. "It'd be done as soon as you pack your stuff and of course mine", said Mummam. I could already feel adrenaline jets tingling the inside of me. "You'd probably come back home for Diwali at your new home", She sure knows how to get work done out of me.

The packing began that very day itself. YES, it did.

But, B U T... There's just a peculiar little twist to the story that says that Papa couldn't get the company accommodation before April this year and that's when we ACTUALLY shifted. Dreams come true. They do. It's just the time. You never quite know when they'll begin. Yeah! probably they are lazier than I am.

I've been shifting bases from the age of 3 (or so I'm told). The first time around, probably I wasn't involved in the packing bit. Ever since then, I've been the one to commandeer (trust me). There's this interesting facet to kids whose parents keep moving.
We probably make more friends in our lives than other kids do. We know a lot more places by experience than most other kids do. And yes, we change more schools than most other kids do. I've often been asked in schools during my first week... "Why did they turn you out of your previous school? Yes, some stupid kids never got the whole point of moving from one city to other - lock, stock and barrel. There are some ugly sides too, to the supposedly interesting activity. Just when you thought you had your room set up the way you'd always wanted it, Papa came in to break the NEWS! You couldn't do some things with the house, the room, because more often than not, it's not your OWN house. Just when the teacher's mind had the fancy idea of making you sit with that girl that you always wanted to sit with, you were exchanging farewell gifts the next week. The list could go on, I'd leave that you people... Fill in the comments box!

And, that's why kids who keep moving have this sympathetic undertone connecting them to others' their creed. Check out SS's comment to my previous post... (No she ain't a kid anymore, and so ain't I. But you know the undertone...)

continued here.

Listening to: Alvida, Junoon

Dedicated to: The Moving kids :)

Letting go...

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 02 Jun 2009 09:35:00 +0000

All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on.

Havelock Ellis

When you stay away from your blog that long, coming back is an exciting yet difficult thing to do. Right now, I've got so much to say, so much to tell, and so much to express (yeah! all three mean different things to me) that I can hardly contain my dancing fingers. (The keyboard being their stage) I have got news to break (No, sadly, I'm not going around with Tanniji, in fact I haven't even met her yet.)

It's just that I'm over with the final semester of my engineering, which effectively means that I'm done with college, which effectively implies that I've joined the cadres of our country's jobless youth (until one of the company's that picked me up during campus placements decides to call me, which right now, seems a distant dream)

Off late, I have had to deal with the rather difficult proposition of parting - taking leave off friends, things and off course places. My dad has recently shifted base from Hisar to Mumbai, and that is where I'll be going too, soon. I've left JUIT, Waknaghat for good, for ever (hope so with fingers crossed) and I left back a few (or lot is it?) friends both at Hisar and college. Things? Well, when you move, you are forced to throw away a lot of things that you'd probably have loved to keep. More on that later.

Seeing that I have so much to write about, I have decided to go low and slow. And you can trust me to share each boring detail of my life from the past month or so. So keep coming back for what I promise is going to be interesting stuff. Till then, this is yours truly signing off... cyao.

Till we meet again...

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 13 May 2009 09:42:00 +0000

I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next.

-- Gilda Radner

A day to go before I start off with my finally final exams of the final year...

and then, (in all probability) I'll be an engineer.

[OMG! what rhyme man...]

It's been four long years... and yet, when i look back, feels like just, yesterday. For the umpteenth time on my blog, and probably the last, I reiterate - "I hate my college." I hate the place, I hate the climate and I hate most if not all the people, I met (or not). In short, I hate everything that is there to be hated and everything that there isn't.

But, this isn't about hate you know... This is about thanking people who made this journey - an experience of a life time. People whom I grew up with (at least I'd like to believe that) people who taught me so much in so little a time that I have problem storing the treasure (And that doesn't really include the teachers... Most (I say most and not all) of them were nothing but pretentious jokers who came nowhere close to being fit for the noble profession. And above all, it's about Friends.

Now, you keep getting on terms of good friends, better friends and best friends with your friends, but all the same, they remain friends.

People, whom you could tell something at some point of time that you didn't feel like telling anyone else in the world. Faces that came to your mind first, when things gave the slightest hint of going awry. The certain someone you could share a drink or two with and still be at ease. Someone you could make fun of and rest assured you didn't have to ask if it was going overboard. The blackmailer, you could share your dreams and fantasies and of course crushes with. That certain someone you wouldn't wait for a second to call up before you broke news about the latest in your life. The names you looked for, first up, when signing into chat. And yes, someone you could count on to get you through your exams, when the day arrived, by hook, or by crook.

A few of my friends tell me I write long, too long. Their curse! I'm not getting more words to fill up this post with...

So I'd do probably what's the best thing to do in such circumstances... leave you with a song and some memories. I heard some people in my college say that the official college farewell documentary didn't make them cry. Ridiculous! Go watch the numerous other things that can make you cry, sweet memories are things to be cherished and smiled upon, if you think otherwise... go get a life!

Now since I didn't want any of my friends who watch it to cry, I chose precisely this theme and song... and added another stanza to the original... Hope Greenday don't sue me for that!

[ Check link if you can't see anything up there ]

On a parting note,

A sunbeam to warm you,
A moonbeam to charm you,
A sheltering angel, so nothing can harm you.

Good Bye, Good Luck and errr... Good Riddance!

Listening to: Are We The Waiting, American Idiot, Greenday

Dedicated to: Friends and Friendship, yeah! Just that...

_

The Mama's Boy...

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sun, 10 May 2009 13:39:00 +0000

To tell you the truth;
because when I'm confiding in you,
I can't really lie...
I've always loved you so much,
and yet, without acting coy,
I must say, I've never been a mama's boy.

You always had my tracks laid out,
and yet, the deviations were allowed.
So was it a fear of loosing faith?
Or a skeptical attitude to the bait?
The reason, I barely know,
But proudly and rarely did I venture off thy tracks.

The styler, the merchant, the chef;
or the counselor's queue,
Never really felt the need,
to look beyond you.
Crying together, sitting in your lap,
Yeah! it's been the best part...
of my thus far, life's map.

Some of the best moments that I think of,
bring you to my life's memory dorm...
Please tell me what else do I do,
to be a Mama's boy?
Please tell na! Oh dear Mom.

I wrote this about two years back in my fourth semester, during a DBMS lecture. It's been one of the most boring series of lectures, I've ever attended, and my notebook bears testimony to the fact. This is the unedited version of what I thought up and wrote for Mummam, on her birthday then. Found that note book in an old pile some days back, and I've been searching for the right occasion to post this. And today, it arrived...

Mothers are the best gifts God gives us on our first birthday. Treasure them and their love while you can... To all your mothers and mine - A Very Happy Mother's Day! :)

Listening to: Mumma, Dasvidaniya, Kailash Kher...

Dedicated to: My Mom... (and desperately hoping that she reads this sooner than later.)

Karachi Valie

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sun, 03 May 2009 08:17:00 +0000

I still remember the time when I entered the JUIT (that's my college campus) 'Welcome Gate' in our car, when my dad had come to seem me off for my first year in colege for that damned B.Tech. degree. We had Rabbi Shergil playing on the car stereo - Bullah ki Jana - from his debut album, a recent, runaway success.

About three years down the line I came up with the idea of THE iNFINITY. And one of my first posts was a review of Rabbi's next album - Avengi Ja Nahin. It wasn't that big a success - the media had blasted it all through, and had even gone to the extent of branding Rabbi - "A saint turned failed lover"! [How I hope we bloggers aren't included in the same category - the media. I mean, I hate them]

Anyways, this is my all time favourite Rabbi song - one that holds a real beautiful meaning and no message - sometimes limitations tend to get the better of you, and infinity comes to mean some vague term that becomes stuff that dreams are made of.

It's Punjabi folk, with a Bryan Adams undertone to the music, so I had always wondered how many of my readers would actually understand if I posted the lyrics...

So, just like that, I decided to post the song and translation, of course with some help from Google.

Do write in to say what the song meant for you... whatever you came to understand of it...

Je aunda maen kadey hor

Ki mulaqat hundi

Je hunda maen changa chor

Ki jumme-raat hundi

Je aunda jhoothh maenu kehna

Tan vi ki parda eh si rehna

Hijaban vali

Karachi Valie

Kujh khali tere andar si

‘Te shayad mere vi

Ik paase khahishan si kharhian

‘Te dujey haddan si

Ni haddan terian si nerhe meri door

Ki karda maen si majboor

Mijajan valie

Karachi valie

Thhande sahan valie

Rukhe valan valie

Thorha kasoor si mera

Thorha si tera kasoor

Par dasso dil uthey kiven jit sakdai

Jithey rehndian ne mattan vadhoo

Tun tukdi si rakhdi si bujhdi si machdi di

Jhakdi si kardi si gallan

Munhon dilon hor

Maen takda si rah, kadey takda si daa

Kadey farhda si banh teri

Aakhar maen si chor

Asan lai ik sann kurhey

Vehna kinna chir khaloni eyn

Vaddi kandhan valie

Karachi Valie

Thhandey sahan valie

Rukhey valan valie

And , The English Translation:

Had I come another time

Would we have still met

Had I been a good thief

Would tonight have been a ball

If I knew how to lie

Would this cover have still remained

O veiled one

O Karachi girl

There was something hollow inside of you

Perhaps inside of me too

On one hand stood desires

On the other limitations

Yours were too close and mine too far

What could’ve I done I was helpless

O sassy one

O Karachi girl

Your sighs were so cold

You hair were so coarse

A bit of it was my fault

And a bit yours too

But tell me how can heart win

Where mind holds forte

You nibbled, cast aside, got doused, got inflamed

Hesitated, spoke one thing from your mouth and

Another from your heart

I waited in your path, waited for a chance

Grabbed your arm

I was after all a thief

I’ve made a breach

Will see how long shall you stand

You and your big wall

O Karachi Girl

Your sighs were so cold

Your hair were so coarse

Listening to: Karachi Valie, Avengi Ja Nahin, Rabbi... (since morning :)

Dedicated to: ummm... let's leave it for the moment.

_

My reason for celebrating May Day :)

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 30 Apr 2009 19:55:00 +0000

It's your birthday and I can't be there
But I'll send you a special birthday wish and a little prayer
Have a happy birthday
I hope that all of your birthday wishes come true
May you have a great time today and find happiness in everything you do.

It happened on a Christmas's evening...

Yeah, I guess it was that very day, when all of a sudden my sister decided that we just had to watch the latest SRK movie... whatever the reviews...

So off we went to the only multiplex in our town. I had never been to that particular place before, given the fact that I spend most of my time at my college, back in Waknaghat, Shimla hills. More importantly, I had never been to a multiplex! So I didn't want my first real experience of a modern day cinema complex to be something that I'd have to associate with a flop when I reflected back. Yes, I never wanted to watch Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi, after whatever I had read and heard about the movie.

But family outings are something you have to adhere to... good manners you see. So, off I went, with Mama, Papa and the planner in tow.

I didn't even feel like giving the movie's promotional posters a look... Aamir Khan with his eight pack abs, had been splashed all over the walls... and seemed like a more interesting option to train my eyes on. Soon I was in... and...

... watching her. "Who's the gal?" I asked my sister.

"You think I 'll know? There's SRK to contend with... now stop disturbing."

The movie wasn't as bad as the critics had made it seem like. SRK did well in his forced double role. And showed glimpses of his near future with the mustache and wrinkled faced. But that's not what I was really watching. No. It was Tanniji I was beholding and admiring.

She was - of course cute, seemed gracious, with that charming and captivating smile of hers. And her dancing skills, were just... amazing. And the most striking thing - "What height man!". Somebody get that idiotic jumping jack of an imposter out of the frame. PLEASE!

All through the way back, I ridiculed the movie - it's very logic, when I hadn't actually seen the movie with that seriousness.

Two days later I saw her again... "Man! What smile." Such talent and all of - [Oh no! I won't talk about Tanniji's age here, I'm trying to be that gentleman that she might want to consider :)]

Some days back, I found out that May Day is also Tanniji's Birthday.

Here's wishing you all the happiness and success in the world, may you never again feature again in an SRK movie [:)... I'll be there cheering for you when you go up the stairs to recieve those numerous awards that are going to be coming your way! (I hope you'll oblige me with a date after that.)

Hope lovely surprises are coming your way...
To make your Birthday a Wonderful day.

Happy Birthday Charmi!

[Just in case, you've been wondering, it's Anushka Sharma's birthday today... and though the above piece seems a bit odd and ridiculous on a second read... I'm going to post it anyways... Happy Birthday Anushka... ]

Listening to: Haule Haule, RNBDJ

Dedicated to: Stupid question! Tanniji... who else?

P.S.: I've even shifted base to Mumbai for my latest crush... more on that soon...

Festive times...?

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 13 Apr 2009 19:26:00 +0000

If there's something like loyal readership to THE iNFINITY (going by my number of followers and RSS feed subscribers, I have to say there is one), there's good news for the readers.

I'm back.

OK. Enough of the antics...

What kept me away for the days that I did not post was my annual college fest - The Le Fiestus '09. This being my final year in college, I wanted to be a part of the fest as much as possible, and hence decided to to send THE iNFINITY into standby mode for good. And finally, I'm glad that the fest, is over.

The annual fests in our college have been an altogether boring experience for me at least. Characterized by mundane events that clash at the wrong time, mismanagement and some weird terms (ever heard of something called the 'mixed DJ nite'? It happens to be the question of utmost importance in my college!)

This edition of Le Fiestus sucked like any other, just that it did so, a bit more than the others that I happened to attend. We (me and my buddies) literally had to run form pillar to post, in order to find some interesting event or activity that we could be a part of... of course, there weren't many (read any). It was like some frustrated souls in search for the said oasis that never happened to spring out of nowhere.

Hard core Rock music is still not big with the best of Indian Music fans. We had 15 bands performing live, back to back in a Rockathon sponsored by some little known Indian social networking startup... and the crowd and audience (I've always believed there's a different undertone to the two) just kept dwindling as the event progressed. The fact that they didn't give our own college bands the liberty of performing more than two numbers didin't help the event's cause either.

And for the final night, we had KK (sorry, but I forgot the bloke's real full name again) singing his heart out. I'm not a big fan of KK's. And though he got the crowd on it's feet for most part of his performance (me included), I still won't be, a fan. I mean, come on, what idiot, starts off with senti numbers to make your mood and activities hilariously hysterical. It was good to be able to catch up with friends in that mood though, for what looked like, one last time.

Every cloud happens to have a silver lining(okay that's more of a cliche than a saying now), but the fest did have a sliver lining to it... from my own point of view, that is. After some fifteen years or more I went back on stage to... (hold your breath)... DANCE! Yes, thanks to some of my friends who got together to co-ordinate a grand event for the final yearites and one buddy in particular,(he'll comment on this post with the same name, mind you.) I was a part of a formal dance sequence on stage for which I worked my ass off for like, one huge week!

And as Tanniji (did you just say Tanniji who? STOP! Go search Google for Anushka Sharma a.k.a. Tanniji of RNBDJ fame, and come back to read this piece. You don't deserve to read me if you don't know Tanniji!) has said, "Wo Banda Hi Kya Hai, Jo Naache Na Gaaye..." I guess, I'm finally eligible as a bachelor... (I sang at the last edition... or was it the one before that?) Anything for you Tanniji...

The fest is over, and so would be my college in about a month more... Do forgive me if my posts in the next few days turn out to be nostalgic tosats from a half drunk's closet... probably I'm left with nothing better to do as I move into the twilight of my JUIT day(s)...

Till I come back with something better... this is yours truly, signing off.

A Century of Lies - !00 Truths

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sun, 05 Apr 2009 12:55:00 +0000

DISCLAIMER: This post has been done under intense peer pressure and (friendly) fire. The author of this blog, in no way confesses these as his own views in full or part. This is being posted because the author hates breaking promises and (seriously) had nothing else to do, once he got over with the torture of exams.

So I've been tagged, yet again. And I forgot to mention in the disclaimer, the responsibility of this kind act, lies with, Akansha again... So sit back and enjoy my hundred, weirdest of truthful lies!

1. Last beverage: Instant Coffee
2. Last phone call: Received: Sud Dialled: Sud
3. Last text message: AirTel - to inform me that I'd missed calls. So people do actually miss me, sometimes.
4. Last song you listened to: Yellow, Coldplay
5. Last time you cried: Yesterday... not today... hmmm no. Yeah. Sure about that.

HAVE YOU EVER...
6. Dated someone twice: Does a no suffice?
7. Been cheated on? Nah... never.
8. Kissed someone & regretted it? No. Wait... does a teddy bear count?
9. Lost someone special? No.
10. Been depressed? Yeah. That's like perennial.
11. Been drunk and threw up? Nopes.

LIST FOUR FAVORITE COLORS:
12. White
13. Green, Blue (it said four up there... right?)
14. Black

HAVE YOU:
15. Made new friends: Yes, always.
16. Fallen out of love: In... probably, how does falling out feel like?
17. Laughed until you cried: hmmm... maybe yes. Don't remember though.
18. Met someone who changed you: Not really. I'm back to being me of late.
19. Found out who your true friends were: I guess I'd never be sure of that.
20. Found out someone was talking about you: ME. Yeah! 'twas like... who's he? never seen him before!
21. Kissed anyone on your friend's list: No.
22. How many people on your friends list do you know in real life: Many... Some... relatively... quite a few.
23. How many kids do you want to have: At least two... :)
24. Do you have any pets: No. Dying for a labarador... as soon as I'm on my own.
25. Do you want to change your name: No ways... My blog would go so meaningless if that were to happen!
26. What did you do for your last birthday: 'twas Diwali... the world burst crackers and ate! And, I cut a cake for only the second time in my life...
27. What time did you wake up today: Woke up 10.30AM, and I tried yoga!!!
28. What were you doing at midnight last night: Watching Scrubs Season 1... chatting.
29. Name something you CANNOT wait for : This stupid engineering thing to get over and a doj from TCS. I desperately wanna work!
30. Last time you saw your father: It's been about 4 months :( miss you dad.
31. What is one thing you wish you could change about your life: hmmm... errr... OK... forget it! Wish there was one!
32. Most visited web page: Gmail

WHAT's YOUR:
33. Name: Aseem Sood
34. Nicknames: aZoed... I know that sounds stupid :) They did call me Ashu too, once. asd as in asdscribbles
35. Zodiac sign: Scorpio
36. Male or female or transgendered: Male.
37. Elementary: St. Joseph's Convent, Bhatinda. St. Joseph's Convent, Hoshiarpur.
38. School: St. Joseph's Convent, Hoshiarpur, DAV Amritsar, DAV New Shimla.
39. Colleges: JUIT, Waknaghat, Solan.
40. Hair color: Black with lotsa grey.
41. Long or short: Keep changing. Short for good, right now.
42. Height: 5'8''... add another half inch to that for my convenience! :)
43. Do you have a crush on someone? I can't say a no to that...
44. Ever been in love? I guess... yes. Though I believe a one sided thing is more like a tale of heart breaks! :)
45. Piercings? None.
46. Tattoos? None.
47. Righty or lefty: Righty.

FIRSTS:
48. First surgery: 'twas something minor... Thank God!
49. First piercing: bola na... NONE!
50. First best friend: We never called each other that... but he was one for sure - Naitik.
51. First sport you loved: Cricket of course! And I was damn serious about it back then.
52. First pet: I secretly gave shelter to a stray puppy once. Too bad, mama found out and that was the end of it.
53. First vacation: Dunno... camping in our unfurnished house at Palampur... THE best days of my life.
54. First concert: Is that supposed to mean when I performed? Class 4th... a romantic solol! Group: Engg. 2nd yr. Le Fiestus '07, main stage.
55. First crush: How do you define it? The cute girl 'cos of whom I was sent outta class almost everyday in class 7? Or, the other one seeing whom everyday makes me *^* (see stars and the moon) :) Of course, I'm not gonna name her! Right aks?

RIGHT NOW:
56. Eating: Nothing
57. Drinking: Water (Aquaguard eBoiling Plus wala)
58. I'm about to: Break this monitor into two, if this tag doesn't end soon!
59. Listening to: Are We The Waiting, Greenday... My CPU fan humming away... some welding noise in the distance... wait... the fly's saying something too... kya? you think you love me? OUT!
60. Waiting for: Change of mood. It swung the wrong way, sometime back!

YOUR FUTURE:
61. Want kids? bola na... HAAN!
62. Want to get married? Aren't kids out of wedlock like... a problem?
63. Careers in mind? Journalism... Marketing... Designing... OK maybe Coding too!

WHICH IS BETTER WITH THE OPPOSITE SEX?
64. Lips or eyes: Eyes
65. Hugs or kisses: Kisses
66. Shorter or taller: I'd say taller. Not too much though!
67. Older or Younger: Doesn't matter. But I'd prefer older.
68. Romantic or spontaneous: Both.
69. Nice stomach or nice arms: Difficult to decide. OK. Both.
70. Sensitive or loud: Sensitive.
71. Hook-up or relationship: Relationship.
72. Trouble maker or hesitant: Neither. There should've been a third option to that!

HAVE YOU EVER:
73. Kissed a stranger: No.
74. Lost glasses/contacts: No
75. Sex on first date: Did I say I haven't been on a date yet. Ever!
76. Broken someone's heart: Me? You kidding right?
77. Had your own heart broken: I'm your perennial heartbreak kid. Or guess I was born with a broken one!
78. Been arrested: No
79. Turned someone down: No. (What does that really mean?)
80. Cried when someone died: Yes
81. Liked a friend that is a guy? Yes. In the most unDostana way possible, though. To put it straight - I'm straight.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN:
81. Yourself: Yes, more than anyone probably. No wait... there's omeone else too.
82. Miracles: Damn yes!
83. God: OK. I confess it. This is big and breaking NEWS! Aseem Sood still does believe in God. You smiling up there... haina?
84. Love at first sight: I'd say yes... But that does fade into more of an infatuation sooner than later. But you know, she's cute... damn cute! ;)
85. Heaven: My room - that's heaven and hell both!
86. Santa Clause: I've run outta socks. So, No.
87. Kiss on the first date? If I do connect... OK.
88. Angels: Yes, they do exist.
89. Devils: I exist. So more might be around too!

ANSWER TRUTHFULLY: (So even you know I'd been lying till now... How candid is that?)
90. Is there one person you want to be with right now? Yes. Chunmun.
91. Had more than one boyfriend/girlfriend at one time? Not even one! OK?
92. Wanted to kill someone ever? No. I believe in Gandhigiri.
93. Among you blog mates, whom would you like to kiss? All... None... Weird question!
94. Committed a blunder and regretted later? Everyay!
95. Wanted to steal you friend's boyfriend / girlfriend? No.

Associate with someone you know:
96. White: Me. That's my colur!
97. Black: First yearie! Dark Circles! lol.
98. Pink: The Pink Orchid. She also happens to be my junior from one of my schools! I'm so excited on catching up with her.
99. Red: Me again. Mom thinks I'm the only grown up guy who wears so much of red! OK. Meri marzi!

100. Posting this as 100 Truths? Sure as shell. YES

yippeee! I did finish it... FINALLY! I'm am a good samaritan, so I pass the torture on to nobody... Do it by yourself, if you find it that interesting... I've got things to do... so tata!

Dedicated to: aks, who somehow coaxed me into doing this. And... my first crush! :)

THE iNFINITY

The Bridge Over Untroubled Waters?

Ten years down the line...

Thank You Sachin

"It seems while Time was having his toll on every individual on the face of this planet, he excused one man. Time stands frozen in front of Sachin Tendulkar. We have had champions, we have had legends, but we have never had another Sachin Tendulkar and we never will." - Time Magazine

Keep at It

"It is not wanting to win that makes you a winner; it is refusing to fail." - Unknown

अग्निपथ

Agneepath!

The Patient Doctor

"There's an opposite to déjà vu. They call it jamais vu. It's when you meet the same people or visit places, again and again, but each time is the first. Everybody is always a stranger. Nothing is ever familiar." - Chuck Palahniuk, Choke

A Finnish Fall

In the dim background of our mind, we know what we ought to be doing but somehow, we cannot start. - William James

Back to Bedlam

One for the cause

A momentary lapse INTO reason

My DD moment

All about WEIRD analogies

Heartbreak at it's very best.

I guess I'm not done... just yet.

Gone, are my whiskers :(

A hundred, a bit down BUT not out :)

The Moving Chronicles - Final Farewell...

The Moving Chronicles

The Moving Chronicles

The Moving Chronicles

Letting go...

Till we meet again...

The Mama's Boy...

Karachi Valie

My reason for celebrating May Day :)

Festive times...?

A Century of Lies - !00 Truths

"It seems while Time was having his toll on every individual on the face of this planet, he excused one man. Time stands frozen in front of Sachin Tendulkar. We have had champions, we have had legends, but we have never had another Sachin Tendulkar and we never will."

- Time Magazine

"It is not wanting to win that makes you a winner; it is refusing to fail."

- Unknown

"There's an opposite to déjà vu. They call it jamais vu. It's when you meet the same people or visit places, again and again, but each time is the first. Everybody is always a stranger. Nothing is ever familiar."

- Chuck Palahniuk, Choke

In the dim background of our mind, we know what we ought to be doing but somehow, we cannot start.

- William James