Monday, April 05, 2010

Whatever They Say...

Its more than just about time I got this out of me. It’s been in me long enough that now it has to come out. Beliefs. What about them? Recently, I’ve been exposed to a lot of these “beliefs” that lacks any proper explanation but for the orthodox sake of it, a deed remains to be undone.

In some cases, Jatakas, by which some people swear by. Some astrologers read the prediction of one’s life from the alignment of the stars at the moment you were born. A rare talent, one must agree. But like any other skill, a lot of its techniques have been tampered with. And I can swear that I saw a book titled, “learn astrology in 30 days”… why? So the astrologer can write a beautiful script of a story and use his clients as characters in them? Every prediction is math. Based on current events and given inputs, there should be a definitive output. And if a result of math fails, it is bad math. Some results of math are based on approximation. And one can frankly say that not all marriages that have been performed after a proper jataka match have been a success and not all marriages that have defied its jataka predictions have been a failure. If this is the result, then the math here is an approximation. Things MIGHT happen, things MIGHT not. And conveniently, most of the cases say, Jatakas don’t apply to love marriages. What the hell is this statement? Did God create a being and place a condition before his future that solely depended on an “if”? If its math, and if it’s a result, it should be universal. If jatakas are truly right, then even for love marriages, the two people meeting and liking each other should have been a “meant to be” and their jatakas matching should have been the result. That when we can say the math has truly worked out.

Karma. Well well. I’m a firm believer of karma. Only sometimes, I got questions. The more good one does, the more good one receives in return. But then, anyone can deduce from what’s happening these days, classic example being our politicians, that the rule of karma is either failing or not immediate. The politicians, they rape anything that comes by, from their motherland to natural fuel to women and still, are men held of high status. And our people promptly say that “he will be punished…. One day… his deeds don’t go unnoticed”. I totally agree. His deeds don’t go unnoticed. They just go unaccounted. I don’t see the great flood coming either. All the while, the honest man’s day goes like he’s being trampled and squished by parade of elephants.

The time of Saturn or Sani. The lamest excuse one can give when things are not going right. Sometimes, people fear to do things when they are under the power of Saturn. According to the ancient beliefs, a particular time of Saturn upon someone is said to cause death. Hence people refrain from driving, flying, anger (sometimes can indirectly contribute to death) etc. What they have forgotten is that they can fall to their death by some water spilt on the bathroom floor or while descending a flight of stairs. But no, Saturn has a particular way of performing his duties. He indulges in skilled performances like traffic accidents and the likes. I got just one thing to say, Live free for a day instead of living a lifetime in fear.

The final call being, all three types mentioned above are interrelated. Out of the tree, anything can be used when there’s an opportunity to blame or use as an excuse.

With all due respect to a lot of beliefs that are genuine, a lot of them aren’t as they have just evolved from various other beliefs and convention systems. Beliefs can be used as a guide but not to steer people’s lives. Assume nothing. Question everything. Hope is what we strive with. Hope is what we have when we do something. Hope is what we have when we want something to happen. Carpe Diem is the formula of the day or die a sorry loser.

This post is a result of my exposure to things and my beliefs alone. The perspective may be different on the other shore.

Friday, April 02, 2010

Kadaa

Kadaa – Scapegoat.

You know you’re suffering from the Kadaa syndrome when…

1. When your dad asks you to shop for his clothes, alone, by giving you his shirt size but asks you to accompany him to the saloon even when you don’t need a haircut, you know you are a Kadaa.
2. When ONLY mom and dad are involved in a tiff, mom says something about dad to which dad retaliates asking 'WHAT DID YOU SAY?' to which mom coolly saves herself by replying 'I was talking about him' and points to you, you know you are a Typical Kadaa.
3. When your sister asks you to check on the firecracker she lit, that’s still smoking but not yet gone kaboom, you know you are a Classic Kadaa.
4. When your dad accuses you of being sloppy when you dropped the remote but later drops it himself and blames his old age, you know you are an Aattu Kadaa.
5. When your mom accuses you of just putting on unhealthy weight and that her requests are falling on deaf ears like a buffalo in the rain, you know you are a Yeruma Kadaa.
6. When your parents shout at you for sleeping all day like a log after filling your stomach with home food and spending your energy by playing your PlayStation, you know you are a Dhanda Kadaa.

Glossary:
Kadaa – Scapegoat
Aattu Kadaa – Scapegoat (younger version)
Yeruma – Buffalo
Dhanda/ Dhandam- Jobless &/or Good for nothing

Lessons learnt: None. Whatsoever.

image courtesy : Google images - http://anxietypanichealth.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/07/scapegoat-cartoon-sm.jpg

Sunday, March 28, 2010

Colors of the G Spectrum

India saw the advent of the G spectrum which is a good sign. Considering our tax money paid for the extra commission for the king as well is... ahem...

Here is the simple commission formula

For 2G
2X 100 Crores = 200 Crores = Commission
For 3G
3X 100 Crores = 300 Crores = Commission
For 4G
4X 100 Crores = 400 Crores = Commission

Where 2, 3, 4,... are Generations,
And the commission is an accumulated figure of a Swiss Bank account.

The general representation becomes

For GenerationG
GenerationX 100 Crores = Amount = Commission

You are brainy enough to guess the rest of it.

Now that’s what I call a GenerationX spectral series.

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Saving Stripey



What are these? Prized processions? Trophies? Or just a part of a cadaver scaring you to the core if seen in reality? Will you display this proudly in your home? No? I thought so. I don’t think we can accept what was once a magnificent life form to be killed and hung as a trophy to showcase man’s skill’s with a gun. Of course, I don’t think this has ever happened in the case of homosapiens.

But what of this?


The population of India in the last 10 years has increased by 15 crores. It’s not the same story when it comes to our national animal.
There are just 1411 Tigers left. Don’t let it become a fading portrait

is always better than

Join www.saveourtigers.com . Make a difference today.


* all photos used here have been taken from Google Images.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Beasts of Destruction

Shadows of phantoms and nightmares for dreams
The cry of your soul in the midst of the screams.
The stairway to heaven now broken and scarred
The end as we feel it as words from the bard.

The crazy old man with just one eye to see
Foretold his time and the future to be.
The madness, the mayhem- a life’s conundrum
Begging the angel that’s blessed you to drown.

Red skies and lightning bolts taking on dawn
The hopes of survival all dead and forlorn.
Beasts of destruction emerge from the sky
Burning the ground as they’re watching you die.

The advent of blackness, a sacrilege tomb
Psychics and lunatics spelling this doom.
The Gods with their powers got nothing to do
To condemn the mortals, a prophecy true.

Living today is to postpone the end
The haggard man laughs and rebukes your defense.
Hallucinations thats chasing you fast
Run from the future and run from your past.

The wake of a man as he walks on four legs
The mortals bow down and for mercy they beg.
Deliverance to seek and Deliver the weak
So reload your guns and kill or be killed.

Thursday, March 04, 2010

Jolly Rogers

Based on a True Incident.

Hiding in the Dust
4:00 A.M.

It was long shadowy night. Dead silent. Not a sound, except the rattling buzz of the cicadas. None but the soldiers could feel the tension and the pressure mounting. Every pound of the heart as heavy as a quake in all its annihilating glory. Victory promised Honor and it wasn’t farfetched. They waited. A lone drop of sweat made its way in a defined path between the eyebrows to the chin like it knew where it was heading. It was slow. Just like its decision to let go or not because once it hits the ground, it could mean information for the opposition. Deafening silence.

The soldiers looked like positioned gargoyles in stealth. Not one movement. It was a tunnel with light at one end of it. Literally, as it was covered from far. Then the inevitable happened. A sound. It lasted for just a fraction of a small moment. Nothing thereafter. Sometimes even a whisper is all that’s needed. The Major looked at his comrade and motioned that he had heard a sound. He received a ‘roger’ in return for they knew that there was just that one left. The one could mean a battalion if he was heavily armed with both firepower and strategy.

The opposition was planning. Planning well.

The Showdown
4:13 A.M.

The Major slowly sent out command, ‘Location zeroed in. Repeat. Location zeroed in.’
No response from the fourth man. He was dead.
One down. Three to go. One left.
They had waited too long. It was time to finish it. Once and for all. The soldiers nudged a step forward.

Just then a grenade flew from a diversion of the tunnel, as the soldiers looked, having expected but not prepared for it. They knew it was over. But then most unlikely of things happened. It was like divine intervention. The grenade on its upward projectile, hit the nearby wall, deflected and went back home. There was nothing the opposition could have done.

A BIG Boom!

The soldiers walked towards the place where the explosion had taken place and confirmed the body of a dead terrorist.

And we all roared with laughter as the scoreboard read


And that’s how the terrorist known as $p@rrow killed himself in the final game that night in a session of hectic counter strike.

It was 5:00 A.M. We switched off the lights and went off to sleep while the early morning sky still carried the echoes of our laughter.

Credits

$p@rrow - Vivek

$c@rf@ce - Vibushan

P@dfoot - Sriraj

Dumb - Siddharth

H@ckO$ -Vijayakrishnan

IdOnTKnowHowtoPLY - Anandh

Shot - Prashanth Goel

BACKSTABBER - Vikas

Tuesday, March 02, 2010

Defiance, Illiteracy or plain Dumb

I know it's been a loooong time since I went blog-trotting and since I contributed something to my blog. The twins are sleeping still.

Anyway, I happened to stumble upon this in Chennai (a lot of my whereabouts are in Chennai of late. You'll soon know why :) ) and I just wanted to post this.



The board reads "Please DO NOT dump Garbage here".

Now you can actually compare my post to Garbage, saying "Hey, wasn't that the garbage post?", and the answer might be "Which one?"...


Thursday, January 07, 2010

Neology Therapy

Hi,
This is a mail that I received recently and after reading it, I couldn't resist sharing it here. This is solely borrowed and not my work and trust me, it's worth reading every word of it. Enjoy!

Neologisms...

Once again, The Washington Post has published the winning submissions to its yearly neologisms, in which readers are asked to supply alternate meanings for common words.

The winners are:

1. Coffee (n.), the person upon whom one coughs.

2. Flabbergasted (adj.), appalled over how much weight you have gained.

3. Abdicate (v.), to give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach.

4. Esplanade (v.), to attempt an explanation while drunk.

5. Willy-nilly (adj.), impotent.

6. Negligent (adj.), describes a condition in which you absentmindedly answer the door in your nightgown.

7. Lymph (v.), to walk with a lisp.

8. Gargoyle (n.), olive-flavored mouthwash.

9. Flatulence (n.), emergency vehicle that picks you up after you are run over by a steamroller.

10. Balderdash (n.), a rapidly receding hairline.

11. Testicle (n.), a humorous question on an exam.

12. Rectitude (n.), the formal, dignified bearing adopted by proctologists.

13. Pokemon (n), a Rastafarian proctologist.

14. Oyster (n.), a person who sprinkles his conversation with Yiddishisms.

15. Frisbeetarianism (n.), The belief that, when you die, your Soul flies up onto the roof and gets stuck there.

16. Circumvent (n.), an opening in the front of boxer shorts worn by Jewish men.


The Washington Post's Style Invitational also asked readers to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting, or changing one letter, and supply a new definition.

Here are this year's winners:

1. Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.

2. Foreploy (v): Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of getting laid.

3. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period.

4. Giraffiti (n): Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.

5. Sarchasm (n): The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it.

6. Inoculatte (v): To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.

7. Hipatitis (n): Terminal coolness.

8. Osteopornosis (n): A degenerate disease.

9. Karmageddon (n): Its like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's like, a serious bummer.

10. Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.

11. Glibido (v): All talk and no action.

12. Dopeler effect (n): The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.

13. Arachnoleptic fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after you've accidentally walked through a spider web.

14. Beelzebug (n.): Satan in the form of a mosquito that gets into your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.

15. Caterpallor (n.): The color you turn after finding half a grub in the fruit you're eating.

And the pick of the literature:

16 . Ignoranus (n): A person who's both stupid and an asshole

Monday, December 28, 2009

Pet Debt

I am a Jobless guy sitting at home
Talking to myself when I strum, play or roam.
So I figure I'm in need of a pet
One that says 'bow wow'
And one my folks can let.

"Dad!" I called and hugged him
Promptly came the reply
"Do you need Money to go to the gym?"
"No..., But I kinda have a request :)"
"Oh dear God! Don't put my patience to test!"

And then I place my request
For my poor dad to hear.
Told my need for company,
"One that walks on 4 legs- one that's like a dog,
Which I can take for a breezy stroll or a quick jog"

Anyone can guess what came the reply
"No", it was, though well worth a try.
"Dad, I promise I wont be no prat
I'll clean, wipe and vacuum the house
And settle for a pet, even if it was a cat".

A small putty thing, jumping around
Chasing its own tail round, round and round.
"I'll Have fun and frolic, dad!"
"And you'll bring the house down
while your clumsy li'l pet tatters grandma's gown".

Spray, wipe, clean and shine.
I cleaned the house spotless
Worked my lazy bum off.
And I waited for a 'Yes'
though an 'Ok' was good enough.

And one fine morning,
Finally dad gave me that gift.
Something that had four legs
And something that's like a dog.
Something I didn't expect- a spongy doggy doll.

All that's left is, I'm bored
while I still wait for a pet,
One that's got four legs and says 'bow wow'
I still have my spongy foofy doll
And closest to an inch to put my fist through the wall! Ouch!

A last desperate request to my dad to get me a pup.

Friday, November 20, 2009

Spit Happens

This happened on my recent visit to Chennai. And i'm kind of vouching that this happens only in India.

Yeah.. Like you've travelled to every other part of the world
Thanks Evil bugger... all the support I need!
And what's with the title?
For god's sake have some patience!
For all what's worth your rambling, i need a genie to grant me some
Again, thanks!
Go on!

Anyway, I got into an autorickshaw
Me: I want to go to the Lemon tree building, opposite the..
Driver: 250 Rupees saar..

Dude, I havent even told you the entire destination location yet!
It was like a kind of a reflex.

Me: opposite that police station, chetpet?
driver: Oh andhaandaya (roughly translated into "Oh, there!") , appo..mmm... 200 rupees saar..

Man! where do you have your account in? the Swiss bank?

As usual, like every other indian would do, i started bargaining and brought the fee down to 150. I know i've been cheated. Dont say it.

Evil twin: Ha ha ha! Not the first time bud
Me: I said! DON'T SAY IT!

I got into the autorickshaw and off we went.
Traffic Signal 1. The driver looked to his side and spit a huge blob of his saliva on the road...

Man! Yuck!

... and gave a reaction like he had escaped from alcatraz.

Frankly speaking, that reaction should have been given by that sorry spit that was fortunate enough to have escaped from his pan filled filthy factory producing stinky secrete.

Anyway.. i ignored what happened like I never saw it and like the other people on the road with a smirking face pretending nothing happened.

Signal 2. The guy looked down to his left and spit again.

Hello!? Don't you swallow your own saliva!? Is it poisonous? No? let me guess... Radioactive?

I thought the poor guy didnt know his way back and hence was making his mark so He could find his way back a'la Hercules Vs. Minotaur.

Now thats what I call a literal herculian comparison!

Ahh wait!.. I forgot to describe the post-action. Immediately after he spit, he took a cloth and cleaned his windshield.

Dude! You spit on the road! You ought to be cleaning not your windshield!

spitting, I guess, has become more of human secretion rather than a voluntary or a cult action.

Its not worth contemplating anyway...

Finally, i reached my destination. I took a couple of seconds before I could get down and you know why. I didnt want the driver's filthy sloppy projectile to have its bull's eye on my ankle. And yes, he spit and then I got down and paid him instead of paying him back. I paid him cash. The lumpsome he had robbed off me.

I was happy and walked cheerful towards work because all that could go wrong had already happened during my "delightful" journey.

Is that it!? Is that your post!? Oh genie! please grant me deaf ears instead of good patience!
I guess I made a point... ?
really? arrkkhh.. thooooo...
well... ahem... spit happens... I guess.