Flying High Rant... Overwhelmed

There are so man things I want to write about right now. There is so much happening in the world around me and well even though I might not get much time to sit and reflect, I know I’m excited.. But there is this emotion, this awesome godlike force that becomes a realization, an enlightenment in my most silent moments. There is this emotion and I can finally put a word to it. Overwhelmed.

For me, it starts with the end. The end will always be that one universal bind, the calmness of knowing that this will all end for us the same way it began. The moment of our birth, the first nanoseconds of our existence, it was exactly the same for me as it was for you. There was no judgment. There was no personality, no boundary, no thought except for one. Breath.

And at the end, at that last breath, we are united again on a sweet harmonious chord like the crescendo of a six billion-piece orchestra.

The in between of these two epitomes of states, the present, it is both tarnished and garnished by an illusion created by appearances and heavy words, swaying your thoughts with ideas of control and power and understanding. You are forced to an opinion, forced to choose your identity. There is no peace, no resonance no oneness.

And then in that confusion, there is this emotion. It is like a massive wave that swallows you, and at that instant you feel nothing. There is no confusion because there is nothing. Just a slow, calm, deep breath. You do not have control over anything. You do not have control over your identity. You do not have an identity. Your skin is washed away by the wave and all that is left is a breath.

But we can’t do that forever. We can’t sit around in nothingness.

And in a moment, everything comes back to me in a rush of confusion. I fall nicely back into my illusion. My soft warm cocoon…

And I wait to be overwhelmed again.

List Rant... Whats Up?

I rarely update just out of the need to update, but its been a long time, and well even though I've sat down to write here on many an occasion, I just haven't been able to find anything interesting. So here is a list of stuff that might or might not interest you, but well I'm going to write them down anyway...

1. I'm in the middle of finals(exams) week. Can't stop thinking about switching out of dreaded engineering.... any ideas for a career path?

2. I have the most awesome mum dad Tara and shandy in the world. I'm itching to go back home and give them a hug.

3. It snowed the other day for the first time this winter, and that proceeded with an insane drop in temperature. Makes me appreciate the warmth of my room.

4. I have too much stuff in my room, but somehow, I end up needing all of it... that must be a genetic thing.

5. It has been a long long semester, and for the first time, I regret not knowing what to expect next year.

6. I miss being able to play basketball every night and being good at it. All I want to do right now is go to the gym and work on my jumper....

7. My ankle is up and running again, but it still hurts randomly. Wonder if it will ever be the same again.

8. Played tennis the other day. First time i've played all year. It reminded me how much I love the sport.

9. Which brings me to the Grandpa's advice of the blog-post-day: Even if you need to grind out your day, doing things that you need to do rather than things that you want to do, don't let go of your passions, and when you get a breather, spend some time doing things you want to do. It feels good :)

10. I realize that I have been single for the longest time. I've come to the point where I don't really see myself with anyone at all. I don't know whether I like being single or not... It can get lonely sometimes...

11. So much of what you do is where you are or need to be to do it. I don't want to distance myself from home, but what if I want to get out of the coop*? It's a scary thought, but can't help but think about it.

12. Which brings me to question... what qualifications does it take to become a statistician? Hmm.. what qualifications does it take to become a pro-league Referee?

13. The NBA is a melting pot of an insane number of stories and journeys... I've got to stop spending so much time on their blogs...

14. Sticking to fruit diets is very hard.

15. I am on twitter now... I never thought the day would come, but well, I'm riding the fad and lets see how it goes. I hate their 140 word limit though. It forces you to drop vowels and what not. I was inspired after following Shashi Tharoor's tweets. Although I contemplated getting in touch with Steve Nash as a legitimate skirmish, before I realized that even twitter cannot make that possible. Follow me here if you care to that is... and I will follow you, I think thats how it works.... *n()()b*

16. Coffee goes well with snow.

17. I really enjoy maths.... when I understand what the effin hell is going on.

18. Intellectual property rules are nullified when they are enforced upon you. I think its only fair to leave the decision of whether or not you would like to share your information with someone up to you-the owner of the content, and not to some third party board member rubbish.

19. Most of the bloggers that I started out blogging with have kind of faded away. So if you are reading this right now, and you see your blog on my blogroll, and you see that the last time you updated your blog was in 1935, click on your link, sign in, and UPDATE!!!

20. I have 3 exams in the next 5 days. I should get back to my books.


*Read The White Tiger. You will like it.

Catching Up

its 4pm now and I finally got my program working.... little bit happier now

Finality Rant... Playing Catchup

This is an unhappy post, because right now I am sad and tired and unhappy and also because I can.

It's nearly 6:30am in the morning and I'm sitting in the computer lab. I've been sitting here since 5pm yesterday. I'm updating my blog now because I've more or less given up on my program.

It's probably my fault that I don't know how to do it. My prof, he tries to explain stuff in class, but nothing sticks. Not for me at least. I flunked the midterm. Probably my fault again. I catch myself doodling during the day, calculating the marks I need to pass. If not scribbling on the table, my mind is always on it.

I look at the people around me. most of them have dark circles, receding hairlines, slumped shoulders, stressed and scratched skin. Many are wearing the same clothes as they did yesterday.

And then there are those who look fresh as ever. Sharp haircuts, calculated expressions, positive body language, relaxed. I try to imagine what they do when they are not at school. Probably hard at work doing their homework and figuring out labs. And they still have the time to come to class.

There is no peace in my mind. Always turmoil. Calculating how far I've fallen behind in maths or when the next project is due. I knew it wasn't going to be fun, but I didn't think I it was unmanageable.

I'm sitting here in the lab, nearer to 6:30am, and I wonder. I wonder why I'm the only one sitting here. The only one with his work undone. Out of two hundred and eighty students, why am I the only one here? I know it's probably my fault. I shouldn't have skipped those two lectures last month.

It all happens so fast. before you know it, your midterms are over, and now the pressure is on for the finals. Maybe if I can stop calculating how much I need in the finals, maybe if i can stop... I could get some work done.

When I was around 10 years old... and that's pretty far back for me, I realized something about myself. I was competitive. When it came to tennis, I would put my heart and soul into it. But as soon as I fell back in a game, all of that fiery spirit just fizzled out. And if i ever lost, it took me the longest time to bounce back, if I ever did manage to.

That's the same feeling I have at the beginning of September. My eyes are set on the goal, and nothing is going to stop me from getting a perfect score this year. And then the first test happens. I study humbly for it. Do all the questions and all the papers. The question paper is simple, but i choke. 60% on something I should have aced. I stumble on the next paper and the next and the next.

I know its probably my fault. Maybe i should have put in some more effort.

And now I'm here. At the lab at just past 6:30am. I probably won't get this program to work by 5pm. Not without some divine intervention and sleep.

And so I give up.

I want to keep writing, but I'll spare you the words. That is, if you got this far.

Crash

There are words, there are sounds, there are actions and there is you and me. With my words, I persuade you to believe in me. With my sounds, I make you feel for me. With my actions, I make you succumb to my illusion.

I am every cliche you hear. I am every truth you believe. I am standing next to you, always. Even when I am oceans away, you will feel me, breathing down your neck.

There are words, there are sounds, there are actions, and there is everyone. Dressed in flowers and painted with makeup, they are ready to take the stage. They are ready to put on the show of your life... the show that is your life.

Sometimes I feel like I am not real. Sometimes I feel like each step I take is unimportant. So I convince myself that I am relative to you. I am what you make of me.

Paint me a picture, write me a song. Fill me with your touch. Fill me with your reality. And I will fill you with mine. Tread carefully though, for there might be gaping holes for you to see through. They are because of my downfalls. They are the birth of new knowledge. Knowledge about you through the eyes of me.

There have been many before you, and there will be many after. And you may come to wonder what the point of these lead words are. You may wonder why you smile for me everyday when I walk past you in the hallway. You may wonder how it is possible to fill an empty basin with more emptiness. You may wonder about the reason for this reality.

I cannot give you the answer to that in words. I cannot give you the answer in sounds. I cannot give you the answer in actions. But look at me. Concentrate on me. Look at yourself. Close your eyes and look at everyone. Touch them.


"It's the sense of touch. In any real city, you walk, you know? You brush past people, people bump into you. In L.A., nobody touches you. We're always behind this metal and glass. I think we miss that touch so much, that we crash into each other, just so we can feel something."

-Paul Haggis, Crash (2004)

The Mask I Wear

Don't be fooled by the face I wear
For I wear a mask. I wear a thousand masks-
masks that I'm afraid to take off
and none of them are me.
Pretending is an art that's second nature with me
but don't be fooled,
for God's sake, don't be fooled.
I give you the impression that I'm secure
That all is sunny and unruffled with me
within as well as without,
that confidence is my name
and coolness my game,
that the water's calm
and I'm in command,
and that I need no one.
But don't believe me. Please!

My surface may be smooth but my surface is my mask,
My ever-varying and ever-concealing mask.
Beneath lies no smugness, no complacence.
Beneath dwells the real me in confusion, in fear, in aloneness.
But I hide this.
I don't want anybody to know it.
I panic at the thought of my
weaknesses
and fear exposing them.
That's why I frantically create my masks
to hide behind.
They're nonchalant, sophisticated facades
to help me pretend,
To shield me from the glance that
knows.
But such a glance is precisely my salvation,
my only salvation,
and I know it.

That is, if it's followed by acceptance,
and if it's followed by love.
It's the only thing that can liberate me from myself
from my own self-built prison walls

I dislike hiding, honestly
I dislike the superficial game I'm playing,
the superficial phony game.
I'd really like to be genuine and me.
But I need your help, your hand to hold
Even though my masks would tell you otherwise
That glance from you is the only thing that assures me
of what I can't assure myself,
that I'm really worth something.

But I don't tell you this.
I don't dare.
I'm afraid to.
I'm afraid you'll think less of me, that you'll laugh
and your laugh would kill me.
I'm afraid that deep-down I'm nothing,
that I'm just no good
and you will see this and reject me.

So I play my game, my desperate, pretending game
With a facade of assurance without,
And a trembling child within.
So begins the parade of masks,

The glittering but empty parade of masks,
and my life becomes a front.
I idly chatter to you in suave tones of surface talk.
I tell you everything that's nothing
and nothing of what's everything,
of what's crying within me.
So when I'm going through my routine
do not be fooled by what I'm saying
Please listen carefully and try to hear
what I'm not saying
Hear what I'd like to say
but what I can not say.

It will not be easy for you,
long felt inadequacies make my defenses strong.
The nearer you approach me
the blinder I may strike back.
Despite what books say of men, I am irrational;
I fight against the very thing that I cry out for.
you wonder who I am
you shouldn't
for I am everyman
and everywoman
who wears a mask.
Don't be fooled by me.
At least not by the face I wear.

- Author unknown

The Abstract

You seem so peaceful and calm. I cannot understand you but yet I want you. You are my existence, you are my emotions. You are everything i fear and everything I love.

You make me cry in the dark, and keep me up at night. You are the endless possibilities of anything and everything.

You are my music. You are my unheard voice.

The sound of my guitar has gone unheard for too long. The skins on my drums are bored and dusty. My words are few but important.

So hear me now, but don't try to understand.

Random Rant... Sleepless

sleepless nights
darkened lights
tiresome confusion
and comfortable illusion
reasonless thoughtlessness
ignorance innocence
joyfully naive
this reminiscence i leave

Why Worry - Dire Straits

Baby I see this world has made you sad
Some people can be bad
The things they do, the things they say
But baby I'll wipe away those bitter tears
I'll chase away those restless fears
That turn your blue skies into grey
Why worry, there should be laughter after the pain
There should be sunshine after rain
These things have always been the same
So why worry now
Baby when I get down I turn to you
And you make sense of what I do
I know it isn't hard to say
But baby just when this world seems mean and cold
Our love comes shining red and gold
And all the rest is by the way
Why worry, there should be laughter after pain
There should be sunsh ine after rain
These things have always been the same
So why worry now

People (sorta reader rant...)

I spent today, mostly very angry. Most of this anger was directed at well, mostly everyone around me, not outwardly, but well, inwardly. This anger, its a new side of me, or rather a renewed side of me that well i had worked very hard to get rid of.

I grew up around Indians. I quite like Indians, mostly because I am one. Then there were the westerners on the tele, and obviously at college. At college I met the Internationals. There were the Asians, the Africans, the South-Asians, the Americans, the Jocks, the Jews, the Christians, the Britons, the Scottish, the Hicks. I met the Indian-Canadians, who looked Indian, but thought Canadian. I went back home and I met the infamous "Locals". I met the gays and I met the hippies.
And I managed to meet everyone in between too...

People fling the word 'diversity' around like its a chipmunk on crack sitting on a windmill... and people seem to carry their culture on their skin. You know how in school they tell you that 'everyone is special in their own special way', diplomatically using the word special instead of different...

Well the truth is that everyone is different. Their circumstances are different. And throughout the course of my "anger day", I noticed only one thing. I was angry because all of these people around me were not like me. They spoke differently, they walked differently, they had a different body language, they wore different clothes... and I kept wondering why. Why can't they be more like me.

But then it comes to me in a rush of epiphanyness...

The problem isn't with the people around me....

*aah cliche bullshit to follow... cant think of nice words to put it in... so just fill in the last bit yourself... *

i feel better now... less anger... lighter....

Last night...

The world is so much bigger than me....

The music, the living, the thoughts, the perfection... we strive to believe that which we have achieved... that which we have not discovered, has been discovered. Our eyes have been deceived by the intoxication of the upheld. The qualms of the public have raped me of my identity and of my choice. There is no identity left here.

On the risk of turning into a cynic, i shall criticize the minuteness of myself in this world. I shall criticize the minuteness of my voice and of my person. Why do I think the things i do. They are because of you. I fucking hate you.

But I touch you. I touch you and i feel magic. I feel the electricity run through my fingers and into you. I feel you feel me. I feel your voice penetrate me. I cant find the words... I just can’t find the words....

My world is different from yours... but my heart is intertwined with yours. I feel what you feel. But i must leave my ego at the door to hear your voice... i must let go of myself to let you in... you will be forever lost in the noise of my silence if i don’t hear you... I must hear you... i long to hear you...

I, Me, Myself... when does this story leave me... when am i free from myself... when can I see me in your light, in your eyes, in you...Now, I feel that i am you. I feel that you are me. My voice comes out of you... you cannot say anything that will harm me... you are in sync with me... I cannot help but break down in tears when i am reminded of you. I need to stop here and remember you... pure... sweet... like thick, intoxicating honey....

I am lost because i cant find the words. So i will borrow them. I will try and then i will err. I will search the deepest corners of my soul... Don’t hear my words... hear me feel.. hear me suffer... hear it in my voice, but don’t hear my words.

Bombay? What's that?

And so my July finally comes to an end. In short, the trip was hectic…. Delhi was ‘chiller’ as they say, and to a certain extent, a decent eye-opener of sorts. I remember snatches Lok-Sabha TV afternoons and reading about Munna – The White Tiger… chilling with Rhea and Rohin… breaking my ankle at that bumpy half-court game (still hurts ☹)… shopping for rubbish at Janpat with mum n Tara… chilling with the Grandparents…. Getting repeatedly lectured for my hair… you know how it is….

And then there was Mumbai…. Where oh where do I begin… First some common misconceptions to be cleared up… They say that there is no place equivalent to the madness that is Mumbai. I beg to differ. If not as chaotic, Delhi definitely gives Mumbai a run for its money… The roads are lawless, the people are rash, everyone does whatever the hell he or she wants to and still, miraculously, the city runs with steaming fervor….

Ok… so back to Mumbai… wow… I am exhausted… Mumbai is MASSIVE… and it always helps to have a local to show you around. So due credit and big ups to my very own Nikhil Bhaya for showing me some of the most awesome faces of Mumbai. The first thing that I discovered was the local music scene. That in itself is another post altogether; maybe my next Indian Reverb update =) Anyway, brilliant musicians with an awesome sense of camaraderie and respect in a very tough and stubborn industry. I have a bunch of new bands to check out and I’m quite excited to put it mildly…

And then there was Toto’s Garage…. And then there was The Ghetto…. And then there was Ghokul… and then there was The Blue Frog… and then there was The Crazy Auto Guy with mothers of speakers that took up half of his little tricycle… and then there was India’s Got Talent…. I can go on and on and on and on… but in this post… I want to talk about my two favorite places in Mumbai

The first, and probably the most clichéd, is Marine Drive… Marine Drive is probably my most favorite place to chill out at in the world…. The wind and the sprinkles of water from the rocks…. The plain simplicity of feeling the wind running through your hair and the sound of the waves thrashing against the breakers…

There are two states of mind that you could fall into. One is that of complete blankness. All I can think about is the water, and all I can feel is the breeze in my face. In the distance I pick out a wave and see it swim towards me and then collapse into a nothingness. The second is a state of utter confusion - thoughts from all directions entering my mind, none of them complete, just ideas for the coming days and flashes from random moments in the past, and this present stands frozen in a daze…

It begins to lightly drizzle and now you are completely in a trance with these exotic sensations, feeling the rain peck against your skin… whiffs of the gobar smell entering your nose… the wind playing with your body as if you were a feeble kite made out of twigs and newspaper… that’s Marine Drive….

My second favorite place in Mumbai is the 6 inches of foothold on the edge of the local trains. Actually, the whole ritual of pushing and shoving for a place on the train, then hanging out of the train or being mulled by the stink and sweat of other fellow hairy local-train using Indians and then getting flung out of the train whether or not its your stop is probably one of the most fun and at the same time, physically exhausting things I’ve ever done.

However, if you do manage to get onto the right train that is going in the right direction and you are fortunate enough to be on the edge of the cabin with enough foothold for one and a half of your feet, you will be in for a journey across town like no other ☺. Such a simple traveling act can become sooo dramatic because all of a sudden, you are holding on, literally, for dear life… and lets not forget the metal bars on the side of the railway tracks that come coolly close to separating one half of your body from the other…

To top it all off, you can add the incessant chugging noise of a stubborn machine that should have retired 25 years ago but refuses to give up. And then obviously, some ‘hip’ commuter will be blasting old RD Burman and Asha Bhosle tunes from his Nokia N95 or his iPhone.... And you can smell nothing but the dirt and sweat that has been embedded in the clothes of all the people that surround you over years and years of train-usage, like a legacy passed on from one generation of commuters to the next.

Sheer Brilliance

Rebirthing... the slow, painful, and cheaper way :)

I think I’m over the traumatic loss of my last week’s update… maybe I will blog about the loss of a memoir some other time…

Right now I’m on my way from Delhi to Mumbai on a plane, again… Maybe I should just fly around on planes for literary motivation because I always feel compelled to write when I’m flying hiiiiigh (literally speaking of course…) Just noticed that there is a fly on/in the plane… haha…. The irony :D …. I wonder if he knows he is going to a totally different world…. And he gets to fly completely free of cost…. Aaah… what a sweet life :D

Anyway, the first few minutes of this particular trip were quite fun…. I’m at a window seat and I just RE-realized how amazingly awesomely fun and cool it is to just stare out of a plane’s window as it takes off… as the huge trucks become tinier and tinier until they are miniature plastic toys… and you get all excited when you see a swimming pool or a golf course….

And as you get higher up, you can see the crop fields…. Huge rectangles and squares with perfectly straight borders….
And then you can see the cluster of houses and how all the roads seem to be radiating from them like little earthworms crawling away from each other
And then you are enveloped by soft cotton puffs of water…
And then you float on them for a while, as if the plane is not a plane, but actually a boat…

And you imagine this to be what heaven must look like….

How I long to get on the other side of this double glazed oval glass window and be swallowed by the fluffy white candy floss....

Shit happens.....

i had written a bunch of shit on the fifteen hour plane-trip to India about a week ago and had it ready to upload as soon as I could... It has now disappeared from my computer and I'm guessing, from existence....FML

oh well...

The King of Pop

MICHAEL JACKSON
(1958 - 2009)

The person that I am

There is this state of self knowing. It is something so ineffable because it is purely that. A state that you might be able to empathize or sympathize with or whatever, but you will never be here....never truely because it is mine and my own... I can try to share it with you but you will never understand... its like a place that i can push you to but you will never reach. Its that candle that burns in the distance. That glow that I long for you to see.... its warmth I long to share with you.... but you will never feel it. And in that solitariness, lies my downfall.

So then what is left? Where is that resonating space where you and I will thump to the same beat. Where our rhythms converge in this delightful swirl of melody and harmony and beat. My path is not perfect. I might not hit that sacrimonious note. But neither is yours. Your voice is as polluted as mine is. It is as corrupt and selfish. So then I ask of you. Where is that resonating space?

I know the person that I am.

Then the only question left to ask is this.

Do you?

Anything

there is this emotion....i see it in her eyes.. i hear it in her laugh... i feel it in her smile....

when do you see it? when do you see that raw emotion, no thought, no complication, just feeling? I saw it tonight. I felt it tonight. I know you will probably never come here so I can write this now and feel safe. You gave me freedom. In that one moment, in that one swift sweeping of my feet, I belonged to you.... you belonged to me.

I will probably never meet you again, but you were my lightning in that dark room. You were my purity through the intoxication. In that one moment, you gave me more than I could take in any lifetime to come. The scene was cliched, but you were your own. You discovered me with your eyes and your smile. I dissolved in your arms.

And then you were gone. As swift as you were to arrive, you vanished behind this curtain of complete anonymity. Complete anonymity.

Where am I now? What changes now? I know you will never see this and that is why I'm not scared of who reads it.

That feeling. That touch. It lingers on my skin. It lingers like an addiction being born. I can see your face but I don't remember it. I can see the blue in your eyes even now. If only I had something. Anything.

The Indian Reverb is born!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Well as most of you might already know, I LOVE Indian rock music! The only thing is, I don't really get to listen to much of it. So saying that, I have initiated what might be the most awesome musical journey/ blog experience that I will ever go on, and I want YOU to be part of it!

And so, I give you my new blog - THE INDIAN REVERB.

Drop by, leave a comment. Not here, HERE. Thank you. :D

Cookie Jar + Its Ok! Music Video!!!!!!

oooooohk... so I have been lazy... I know... I'm going through some serious blogstipation, and a bad case of mind-fucked-ness... so here is something that you, my beloved three readers, can chew upon for a while...

Also!!!! The video for Junkyard Groove's Its Ok is finally DONE!!! Check it out HERE or just scroll to the end of this post :).

"Cookie Jar"

I would turn on the TV but it's so embarrassing
To see all the other people I don't know what they mean
And it was magic at first when they spoke without sound
But now this world is gonna hurt you better turn that thing down
Turn it around

"It wasn't me", says the boy with the gun
"Sure I pulled the trigger but it needed to be done
Cause life's been killing me ever since it begun
You cant blame me cause I'm too young"

"You can't blame me sure the killer was my son
But I didn't teach him to pull the trigger of the gun
It's the killing on this TV screen
You cant blame me its those images he seen"

Well "You can't blame me", says the media man
Well "I wasn't the one who came up with the plan
I just point my camera at what the people want to see
Man it's a two way mirror and you cant blame me"

"You can't blame me", says the singer of the song
Or the maker of the movie which he based his life on
"It's only entertainment and as anyone can see
The smoke machines and makeup and you cant fool me"

It was you it was me it was every man
We've all got the blood on our hands
We only receive what we demand
And if we want hell then hells what well have

And I would turn on the TV
But it's so embarrassing
To see all the other people
I don't even know what they mean
And it was magic at first
But let everyone down
And now this world is gonna hurt
You better turn it around
Turn it around

- Jack Johnson

Its Ok, Its Alright, We're the same and there's no need to cry!

Spring Rant

Spring is here. I don't think I have ever seen anything as beautiful as the first sign of leaves growing back onto the trees. Its something that i have never noticed before. Beautiful.

The leaves start out as shoots, like little buds ready to explode, and then one morning you wake up and those little buds have exploded into an awesome neon green eruption of colour.

The leaves make me reminisce on the past winter. I can now say I too know what it feels like to live through those long, cold winter nights. But the long wait for warmth made spring so much more sweet. It made me enjoy and appreciate such simple things, like sitting out in the sun. Just sitting.

I can feel it now. I can feel the energy from the sun enter me. Such a beautiful feeling that I had never noticed before now. And whats amazing is that its always been there, but now I know. Maybe this is what living is about. Maybe 'life' is just a process of appreciation. In our youth, we grow up intoxicated with materialistic attitudes and our desires end up blinding us. And then with time we age, and understand the people and things that really matter and what we have consciously or subconsciously gained from them. And with that realization, we begin to appreciate the incredible-ness that is this living, breathing existance.

Its a nice thought. It comforts me. This post kinda drove this idea. Its wierd, because i wrote it :).

p.s. I know i contradict myself and my ideas quite frequently, but i dont really care. Everybody is allowed to have an opinion, but i want to have em all :D.

Gossip Guy (ha!!) New College Edition

Well, its that time of the year again... Loyal UofTans have left their socks out to dry and have retreated to the confines of the NB4 study room, but that hasn't stopped the hot and happening to do some moving and shaking *winks wildly*

In recent news, a certain tall blond South African has hit an all time low since the infamous 'first ECE quiz incident'. Sources report that this particular tall blond South African did in fact consume a gross amount of energy liquid (any amount is gross), and was indeed able to complete his quote " FUCK CUNT BULLSHIT MOTHERFUCKER " individual portfolio. He was last seen moving towards the SF library, but was found a few minutes later, passed out on the second floor GB corridor.

In other news, the two Davids have been up to their usual lust-filled mischief. Last night, one of the Davids was spotted in the NB4 corridor, sporting a comfortable looking "speedo". Sources confirm that this unique look was intended to show off his bulging abdominal muscles. However, he ended up displaying certain other protruding bulges.

The NB4 male rezzies are on high alert after the other David has been spotted, offering Thai horror movies, popcorn and some TLC, and we all know where that's leading. In his defense, he claims that he was just "joking around", but us men are still on the look out.

It has been reported that a certain hairless Woodside was found abandoned in the NB4 study room, staring for hours on end at java script. Apparently, he was left to write the bulk of a program code by himself due to unforeseen incompetence on the part of certain twin sisters. The Chem Eng girls were confuddled by the workings of a computer, and chose to do calculus instead. Woodside was later found in the study room, playing strange games with sticks and balls.

In business news, the infamous Korean Grill House has had to shut down one of their Downtown branches, after a group of twelve New College rezzies spent an entire evening consuming enough food to feed.. well.. twelve New college rezzies. Apparently, the restaurant was not prepared to satisfy the culinary needs of the students, due to an unforeseen preformed New College Caf mentality. The group was spotted on their way back to rez by a squirrel with a camera.

The squirrel reported that the group did not proceed to break into the GB building and the MSE common room.

Over the past few weeks, a certain Josh Gill's presence has been missed on the floor. Rumor has it that on a particular visit to the Caf, Gill, 18, was a victim of Todd-rant-itis. No further details are available due to evidence that "May or may not be consistent".

All in all, life isn't half bad here at 45 Willcocks... :)

Until next time

X X X

picture rant...home?

That's the Sh. Zayed Road skyline from the shipyard.... Home is going down the tubes.... it was for a while... now everyday it gives new meaning to the phrase 'rock bottom'

im tired

Never Meant To Be Part 2.. And Then There Were Some

This was the second essay i wrote for the University of Texas... its supposed to be on a personal/political/school related/local/international issue i think is important and the relevance to my society/community/family/generation... i wrote on indifference...

I was at a train station. We were walking towards our platform when I spotted a lady dressed in rags sitting on the floor. She held both her hands in front of her and looked from one to the other. When I looked more carefully, I realized that she was holding a blade in one hand. Shocked, I silently passed.

I’m in a car on a main road in Delhi. When I take a look around, I see a countless number of fruit carts that are the livelihood of the people standing behind them. I see rickshaw drivers, toiling in the afternoon heat. Those same rickshaws serve as their beds for the night.

When I reflect on these images and countless others that have made an impact on me, I do feel moved. I read articles and I hear politicians talk inanely about the fight against poverty and the eradication of hunger, but I feel that we have strayed from the real issue. I don’t want to talk about poverty. I don’t want to talk about hunger and struggle because I know that these are issues that have almost become trivial and mundane in today’s world. I want to talk about myself. I want to reflect on my reaction to these social issues. Why did I silently walk past that lady at the train station? Why didn’t I sit down with her and talk to her? What made me react so indifferently? Here lies the real issue.

The problems with society do not root from an inactive government or an irresponsible president. The problem lies in the grass roots of the individual. Why have colleges made social commitment a requirement? Has that innate sense of humility and modesty perished to such a state that society must demand it from today’s youth? The fundamental issue is this: we have all been given the opportunity to make a decision. However, we would rather be disillusioned by a false imagery of a perfect world rather than contribute to our local community. Social service has become a burden rather than a personal choice.

I have come to the realization that nobody can be blamed for inaction. What does not affect us directly becomes immaterial to us. We see the struggle within our own local community and persist to ignore it presuming that either it will take care of itself, or the government will fix it.

The significance of such an attitude to me, my family, or my generation is in itself the crux of my point. I feel that as a potential change agent and leader, I did not move to action until I was provided some motivation by either my school, or my seniors. At that time, the idea of social service to me was to a certain extent an obligation, but it is only now that I realize the intense emotions and connections that can be experienced when I do work for social change, however small the change may be. This has made me feel much more spiritual about community service.

There was no motivation for Mother Teresa to have the same supper that she gave to the people that she sheltered - a crust of bread and a banana. Why must I be any different?

Extreme rant... A Boy Girl Thing....

first, a couple of updates....

1. Brushing my teeth is a lot more important to me than i thought it was.
2. Junkyard groove has finally released what is called a bootleg...i don't know how it's different from an album.... but they have... and i cant have it because they are only distributing in India....doh!
3. The Suns are making an impressive late playoff push, but they seem to be falling a couple of games short... i hope they make it...
4. I can tie my hair into a ponytail :D its the funniest shit i have ever seen :D
5. THIS is my new favourite song... i wish they would frekin get serious and make some frekin albums :(

Ok... thats done... umm.. what comes next... aaah yes the post... lets do that :D

So boys and girls... its a simple concept... there are boys... and there are girls... and when they are young, boys hate girls and girls hate boys and then when they get older, they can't get enough of each other, and then a little older... well you know the routine (coz i really don't)

I'm sitting on my bed... trying to do homework(?) or something of that sort... and i have my itunes on shuffle... its scary the amount of songs that have to do with boys and girls... songs about falling in love, about the one that got away, about that one magical night, about more or less anything to do with boys and girls... and it was then that it became apparent to me that love, relationships and well, boys and girls are more or less all that we live for...

And because i love to talk about how it feels... i delved into the questions that we all can answer in our own little way....

What does it feel like to love somebody? What does it feel like to be loved by somebody? To know that you are wanted... to know that there is someone right now who is thinking about you... What does it feel like to be alone? What does it feel like to love someone and know that they don't even know you exist? What does it feel like to sit next to a person that gives you the hiby-jibys, but to never have the courage to ever speak to him/her?

Whoaa.. hold on... that word is so awkward... love... wow... it has a kind of animation about it.. it dances around in your mouth, does a back-flip on your tongue and it kind of awakens the snoozing butterflies in your stomach...

so anyway... here i am... in this kind of i don't really know where i am phase, wondering to myself.... people make such a big fuss about boys and girls, and sometimes boys and boys (and vice versa), but what if there was just the boy and just the girl? what if for now, love *cue hiby-jibys* doesn't seem that big of a deal...

i guess im just trying to justify my laziness when it comes to relationships... i can almost see myself in this tiny glass cube, isolated from everyone around me... maybe its just easier this way... but then why does falling in love always seem so easy?

or maybe i just haven't found her yet... or maybe i have, and now shes gone... or maybe i could have found her, but i just didn't make the effort...

the possibilities are endless =)


p.s. i know this post is kind of a mess...but i don't really care... this is how it comes out, so yea... read it anyway :D

p.p.s. check out my new JYG widget in the sidebar... you need to scroll down a bit, but its worth it :D

Extreme rant... Pre-rant becomes the Rant .. returning to the roots

Pre-rant: This post isn’t as happy as the last few have been... I don’t know why, but i have been afraid to use this space as an emotional dumping ground in the fear of coming across as a cynical bitter boy who loathed in self pity and the rest...

as dad always says, there are two ways to look at that... one is that to shut out the complacency would be a good thing and it would allow the positivity to flow out... the other is that i have wanted to make this space more ‘reader friendly’ and i have been spewing out bullshit just to get that site-meter ticking....

When you actually think about it, its fascinating... There is no real right or wrong way to look at anything really... our lives are lived in this fuzzy grey area and that's it... we are fuzzy, confused and insanely opinionated... In reality, the only thing that really connects us all at a mental level, is that we don’t really know anything about anything....

Why do we say the things we say? All the world is a stage and we are but mere actors... We don’t live for ourselves but rather to satisfy the audience...

I wonder... i wonder what’s wrong with not knowing... why is it such a bad thing to be ignorant? If anything at all, it means that you are in the purest form of yourself, unscathed by the wrong or the wrong-right.... There is no conflict in your mind... and i guess in a way, that means that you are peaceful.... all that is left are the facts.... I breath, I eat, I sleep, I do. Existence becomes just that... existence.

Reader Rant... The Bass

Hello all of my three readers :D... well its been a verrrrrrrrrry long time... and i admit, i've got a baaaaaad case of blogstipation....

The problem is that i have so much to write and when i sit down to write, i write a little bit, and then i just lose the rest of it... maybe its just plain laziness(which it most probably is)... or maybe i just don't have the rest of the words in me...

So in this post... i need your help... i've got a thought.. feeling.. whatever... i need you to look into the next few words and empathize/relate or just simply feel something... whatever it is... and write it down in the comments forum...

Every new comment that comes up, ill add it to the original post... If you don't feel comfortable with disclosing your name... feel free to anonymize-it....
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The Bass

There’s this emotion... its like the thump, thump, thump of a bass, beating against your skin. You can feel the music crawl up your body. It enters you from all sides. It vibrates through you, from your ears to your feet. And then it explodes into the ground. You can feel the ground shake helplessly… BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM

It's the feeling I experience when I listen to Viva La Vida, by Coldplay =)
-Anonymous

When that sweet beat takes over my body. When all the words make sense to me... when i can close my eyes and let the melody fill me... its a release... its the sound of that sweet falsetto... its the sound of so many, singing in one harmony...
When everything fits perfectly... =D

I totally relate.
Life is a symphony. And we are the various notes. Together we can form the most beautiful chords and harmonies or we can cause a cacophony. But, at the same time we're all a unique sound and no two notes are the same. We let out our own special music. Even though sometimes two different notes don't gel, individually we're never wrong. We're all beautiful and melodic in our own way. And if listen hard enough, we can hear our own music, flowing through us...and it gives us renewed faith and a beat to follow.
So music = life. Very true. =)
-Komal Korla, The K-Files

A slow and steady transistion from deafening silence to beats coming to life.
Its when all senses collide and your body is suspended in room with vibrations bouncing off the walls and technicoloured lights almost blinding you.
Its love/attraction expressed through music. A reflection of your heart racing, deep breathing, your feet lifting off the ground in musical notes and sounds.
The pleasure that your mind and body experience. A strange rather exciting blend of Ecstacy and Bliss.
- Anonymous

Or maybe it's just the sound of a cello, wrenching at whatever you're feeling.
Or maybe it's the sound of a guitar, crying for a home.
Or maybe it's the pain in a voice, in longing and despondent hope.
Or maybe it's the solemn clash of a tambourine, held in the frayed palms of a nobody.
But it definitely is the music that shows you the emotion, even if it wrenches at it.
It's the declaration of homelessness, and the need for a home. It's the music that will take you home.
It's the music that relates the hope of a cracking voice, crying out so loud in belief.
It's the tambourine in the emptiness of the glass and steel world.
Pulling us all back into place.
- Nishant Mehrotra, Hours

Or maybe life's not a symphony, it's a mess, a downright anarchic, cynical jibe at the very notion of existence. And those beats, are what reminds you of the fact that there is a cadence to your chaos, a rhythm to your pain.
- Anonymous, The Cynic (apparently :P)

Life's an empty sheet. Every step we take and every choice we make writes the notes of our songs. Minors, Majors, a 7th when your feeling happy, a slight harmonic when your in love, a muted string when you mess up. But there's no going back, no mistakes can be fixed. What do you do? back down? Or blow the crowd away with a powerful solo and go out with a bang! That's what it's all about. The question is: Is it good enough to make other people want to dance to your tune? Most of all, are you able to dance to your own tune over and over again? No regrets! You only get one sheet...
- Anonymous

It sends shivers down your spine and that, somehow, sparks a current that rivets through your body. You try analyzing this glorious feeling, calling it "life's symphony" and "a rhythm to my pain", and it sounds all pretty and nice until you suddenly realize how futile it has become. Instead, what has begun, is this process of you trying to out do the other by distorting what doesn't need to be distorted, and basking in the sun of the beautiful words you just wrote. Suddenly, you find that "the bass" is missing. It is no longer about the feeling, it is now about you. And it is at that moment you realize, that the electric current that rivets through your body is just a sensation, a pleasant sensation, that frees you of thought for an instant. All that remains is that resonating current tingling your pleasure cells somewhere in the brain. It is beautiful. Leave it at that, please.
- Anish Malpani, Do You Really Care?

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