tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-163172032026-04-04T11:44:40.302+05:30<p> <em> "Sometimes I get to feelin’, I was back in the old days - long ago <br/> When we were kids when we were young, things seemed so perfect - you know <br/> The days were endless we were crazy we were young, <br/> The sun was always shinin’ - we just lived for fun <br/> Sometimes it seems like lately - I just don’t know, <br/> The rest of my life’s been just a show."<br/> </em><br/> --Freddie Mercury, <em>These are the days of our lives</em>. </p>Hydehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16255735286083056447noreply@blogger.comBlogger389125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16317203.post-66045621507293115132024-12-28T00:43:00.001+05:302024-12-28T00:43:25.935+05:30

I see my life in two distinct phases- Before Corona, and After Corona.&nbsp; But something happened in the During Corona phase. It was when I was first struck by an until-then-unknown feeling called the paternal instinct. I do not remember how it started, and Anna strongly feels it was hearing the news that Edwina brought home two pups and COVID ensured I did not go home for some time.&nbsp; I

Hydehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16255735286083056447noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16317203.post-31878811394917363582024-12-05T19:05:00.001+05:302024-12-20T20:21:00.655+05:30

"Tell me, who are you? Who is Edward Hyde?", she asked me. "I am ..." I began to rattle off about my work, what I do, how I like doing it , and the problems I face when she interrupted me. "No, I want to know who you are, not what you do"I paused, trying to find the right words to describe myself. And found I did not have any. "You are identifying yourself with what you do, now who you are" she

Hydehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16255735286083056447noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16317203.post-24091064541456960582022-03-18T16:10:00.001+05:302022-03-18T16:10:37.320+05:30

It is 4 days and roughly 4 hours since I heard of your accident. The grief comes in waves. I thought the message I posted to the group would help, but it hasn't.I hear your favourite song, the one you use as your caller tune. On any other day, I would have called it a song of innocence, of teenage naivete, and listened to it with a smile. Today, I cannot hear it without breaking down. Pehla nasha

Hydehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16255735286083056447noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16317203.post-54317300695741880632021-06-12T01:19:00.001+05:302021-06-12T01:19:46.505+05:30

Dear S, I liked you a lot I know I am the last person you want to hear from, and I respect that I would like you to know that if I could go back in time And change how things ended between us, I would And I do not know what else to say * * * * * Dear M, You were plenty self-destructive for my taste at the time But I was sure I could pull you out of the mess you were in The truth is

Hydehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16255735286083056447noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16317203.post-91249467779690313172019-12-13T19:26:00.000+05:302019-12-13T23:20:40.764+05:30

You shared with me a Wilco song About fighting when one's alone I heard that song you shared, a hundred times A hundred times A hundred times A hundred times A hundred times A hundred times I must have heard that Wilco song, a hundred times I played one I played two I played three I played four I played that song five hundred times When I heard that you were gone, I must have played that Wilco

Hydehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16255735286083056447noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16317203.post-15749938039963603582019-12-05T23:37:00.002+05:302019-12-05T23:45:08.533+05:30

Frasier: Splendid! Gives me a chance to debut my Limoges coffee set — a series of six unique cups, each one representing a different wife of Henry VIII.&nbsp; My antique dealer just found an "Anne of Cleves" to complete the set! When I first moved to an apartment I wanted to buy a coffee cup for my daily cuppa. It is another story that I hardly made a daily cuppa those days and when I did get

Hydehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16255735286083056447noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16317203.post-5952920866401629992018-12-18T00:45:00.002+05:302020-12-14T13:10:19.945+05:30

Dear Mo, Remember how we became friends? Way back in 2009, you had DM-ed to me a link to a video clip in which Aruna Irani breast-fed a cobra. And I took “revenge” on you by asking to “make fransipp with you”. Mo: why did you get it? i forgot. Hyde: we were discussing on twitter, and you DMed me with the link i didnt even ask Mo: you did ask we were discussing you asked i sent and hence i

Hydehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16255735286083056447noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16317203.post-48152886198095525172018-12-13T22:32:00.001+05:302018-12-13T22:32:14.068+05:30

Somebody dies. Someone's father. Someone's mother. A singer. An actress. An actor. An uncle. An aunt. A friend. Death is a fact, a known truth. Yet, it is not welcome when it happens. It has been a bad year. Because Death has made a lot of new friends.

Hydehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16255735286083056447noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16317203.post-86342884310578274162018-05-24T00:03:00.003+05:302018-05-24T00:07:26.850+05:30

I had a simple objective when I moved to Bangalore in 2006: to find accommodation within a 5-kilometre radius of the workplace. So I found one a few kilometres south of the office. But I was also aware that there were plans to consolidate all offices into a single complex on the eastern edge of the city and that I would have to move soon. A year later, I moved to an apartment and within 5

Hydehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16255735286083056447noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16317203.post-86452198587775624072018-01-30T14:00:00.001+05:302018-01-30T14:07:56.751+05:30

Will you remember the dress I wore? Will you remember my face? Will you remember the lipstick I wore? This world is a wonderful place To the girl who came on TV with gold make-up and angrily sang Zombie to me.

Hydehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16255735286083056447noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16317203.post-5977414662748152662018-01-29T00:40:00.001+05:302018-01-29T19:17:32.132+05:30

'Your photographs have become different, the way you take them has changed. You used to spend time figuring out which angle to take, how to compose them and things like that. Today you whip out your mobile phone and click for Instagram. I miss the photos you used to take using your camera', Anna lamented. That was what I got for feedback. Most of what she said was true, and I knew it too. But

Hydehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16255735286083056447noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16317203.post-85438400559439681842017-09-15T21:58:00.001+05:302017-09-15T21:58:24.908+05:30

personal space noun the physical space immediately surrounding someone, into which encroachment can feel threatening or uncomfortable. For the longest time, I have had plenty of personal space. I think I was 10 when I got a room of my own. I remember being cooped up in my room, hunched over a keyboard either writing code or playing a computer game when I wasn’t reading a book. And when I moved to

Hydehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16255735286083056447noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16317203.post-72213802891759145632017-07-17T17:02:00.004+05:302019-12-05T23:40:25.686+05:30

mid-life crisis: A transition of identity and self-confidence that can occur in middle aged individuals. It is a psychological and behavioral observation that commonly occurs with individuals between the ages 45–64. It's observations differ in a diverse manner for each individual. While some individuals may experience feelings of depression, remorse, and anxiety, others may experience feelings

Hydehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16255735286083056447noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16317203.post-44010694819097281382017-06-07T00:28:00.004+05:302017-07-17T16:47:16.792+05:30

Once I wanted to be the greatest No wind or waterfall could stall me I do not remember when or how it started. I just remember that I wanted to be the greatest. With great ambition comes great responsibility, a superhero once said. But I was too young to understand what I was asking for and what it would demand from me. Every time reality did not match hopes and dreams, there was a temporary

Hydehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16255735286083056447noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16317203.post-26994180159963305852017-05-12T02:44:00.001+05:302017-05-12T02:51:08.325+05:30

Tewksbury: Alright, refresh my memory. Wasn't it your mother who first sparked your interest in psychiatry? Frasier: Yes, it was. I remember the exact day. I was eight. I'd come home crying because one of the older boys had thrown my copy of "The Fountainhead" under a bus. My mother explained to me it wasn't because he didn't like the way I walked or because I wore an ascot to school, it was

Hydehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16255735286083056447noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16317203.post-23794081451597295362017-01-14T02:54:00.001+05:302017-01-20T00:06:05.228+05:30

For once, Hyderabad did not suck. Even though I had included Hyderabad in my grand plan of touring Orissa, and was keen to see Golkonda again, I was always unsure how it would go considering my previous two experiences there. How did I not go postal after enduring a day of driving in that city! In Bangalore, one has to switch off the engine and wait for the lights to change from red, to green,

Hydehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16255735286083056447noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16317203.post-13788246883670264982016-11-01T00:53:00.000+05:302016-11-01T01:40:32.025+05:30

Bloodshot eyes Clenching jaws and gnashing teeth Hands curling into fists Tensing muscles Slowly breaking out into cold sweat The mind swaying wildly to beats Hands and feet trembling Thrashing, struggling This is bitterness, accompanied by sharp intakes of breath and a constant drumming in your head every time past memories take hold and mentally slam you against a wall of anger and despair.

Hydehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16255735286083056447noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16317203.post-12173785267933709892016-09-09T20:25:00.004+05:302016-09-09T20:55:33.505+05:30

'He is going to get his superannuation from that company', my classmate from college remarked. I laughed. It was a practice for a lot of people at this company to retire after putting in several years of service. One of the managers that I had worked with, had joined after he finished university and worked here for 39 years. When I put it in perspective, he joined a few months before I was

Hydehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16255735286083056447noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16317203.post-29462108208803470002016-08-23T22:39:00.001+05:302016-08-23T22:42:03.497+05:30

A recent practice is to host a party after the end of a motorcycle ride spanning a few days, ostensibly to relive moments and share those memories that the others had the misfortune of missing. Some make excuses to avoid relatives or other social engagements to mingle here. As is wont with us these days, a lot of photos are clicked of people who are a little less inhibited after consuming

Hydehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16255735286083056447noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16317203.post-49856658226808919592016-07-28T17:13:00.001+05:302016-07-28T17:20:56.223+05:30

When I was at high-school, I was asked 'What do you want to be when you grow up?' I always replied 'I want to write programs'. A commonly-asked question in job interviews those days were always 'Where do you see yourself ten years from now?' I would reply 'As an architect'. That means, I saw myself working as a software architect while in my mid-30s. Three years ago, when I was in my mid-30s, I

Hydehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16255735286083056447noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16317203.post-58178346567875132652016-06-14T22:46:00.000+05:302016-07-28T16:51:16.944+05:30

'So what made you quit?' the doctor asked me, as he pulled out his instruments to do what he called a voice-box test. 'This lump-like feeling in my throat that just wouldn't go away, and the squamous cell carcinoma that they diagnosed on my father's vocal cord', I replied with practiced ease. 'Hmm..., this will hurt a little' he said as promptly yanked my tongue out and began pushing down the

Hydehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16255735286083056447noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16317203.post-57390107157239547852016-05-04T19:08:00.003+05:302016-05-04T19:08:49.804+05:30

I never thought that it would re-appear so starkly, so soon.

Hydehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16255735286083056447noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16317203.post-38916695822446306852016-03-25T01:00:00.000+05:302016-03-28T23:28:25.454+05:30

There were so many expectations of the Royal Enfield Himalayan motorcycle ever since the first pics were leaked. It was like waiting for the release of a long-awaited album by a favourite artist, or a long-awaited book by a favourite author. When I saw the prototype for the first time, I remarked that it looked like a jugaad made in the streets of Shivajinagar. It did not inspire me, and I

Hydehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16255735286083056447noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16317203.post-5161065837146861662016-03-09T22:51:00.000+05:302016-03-28T23:30:03.616+05:30

‘It is your baby! How can you just abandon it like that?’, she had demanded. I had just finished a session where I explained the code I had written in the last 3 months to the team that I had moved out of just a week ago. I grinned and made a typical, almost flippant, remark to shrug off the ‘responsibility’. ‘The two ladies here will take care of the baby’, I had said. I had taken myself out

Hydehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16255735286083056447noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16317203.post-82576447726032947562016-02-24T23:03:00.004+05:302016-03-28T23:31:20.800+05:30

When I look back at the events of the last 12 months, I see changes. Lots of them. I gave away the much-loved Baleno and got myself a Linea. I was sure I would not buy a new car, but the test drive all changed that. But when I had to hand over the key to the showroom as part of the deal, a part of me lingered with it before asking the salesman to take a photograph of us with the car. He was

Hydehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16255735286083056447noreply@blogger.com0