Feb 7, 2011
Jan 5, 2011
Nov 11, 2010
Apr 29, 2010
* that is how I make myself feel good about a shitty job
# courtesy one lost debit card and another lost PIN
Apr 26, 2010
I don't know what opinion someone would have about me based on this but I simply love when she's styling / cutting his hair. It is a HUGE turn on.
Oh, and I haven't seen the movie.
Apr 8, 2010
Jan 21, 2010
Nov 5, 2009
Nov 4, 2009
I took this with my cell phone. One of those rare occasions to be flying around sunset time. The only regret was that I was flying to the North and seated on the right side of the aisle when the other side was revealing a riot of golden hues every passing minute.
Oct 25, 2009
Oct 22, 2009
Oct 9, 2009
Sep 27, 2009
Sep 9, 2009
Sep 2, 2009
Aug 27, 2009
Aug 12, 2009
I could be a 'floriculturist', growing exquisite flowers which can be exported to the West. I could watch the season change the colors of my produce, count the honey bees swarm around my produce. Perhaps have a side-business of producing honey the organic way. Make millions in a few years after I have set up farms over hundreds of hectares of land in a place with wonderful weather year round. But then, an automobile company would decide to set up shop in the vicinity. It would dole out thousands of dollars to the local politicians who would de-notify the forest and agricultural land and convert it into an industrial zone. The whole region would be attract a ton of migrants willing to live in squalid conditions in return for a job in the auto company. The pollution would harm the atmosphere and that would be the end of my farms.
I could be a call center executive, restricted to working for 8 hours a day only. Meet targets of taking calls by the minute, resolving queries from stupid foreigners and gradually moving up the value chain. I'd get an accent, perhaps a foreign trip thrown in now and then. But then I'd have to work odd hours, the pay would be a pittance and my health would go for a toss, life expectancy down by 25%, apart from the slur of having wasted by upbringing and education to do a 'call center job'.
I could be a tourist guide at an exotic destination, giving tours to firangs willing to shell out dollars in lieu of ludicrous tales of past generations. I'd work on my terms and refuse loud Indian tourists looking for a cheaper deal. I could take a few months off every year when the tourist flow is low and go explore other places and take tours myself. But then I'd be at the mercy of the exchange rate, stupid firangs (again) and be a part of the general cartel which is just as well adept in procuring hookers and dope for the tourists. Probably some day, the government of India would bow to firang pressure and declare the tourist place a heritage site, UN boards would be nailed across the entire area and the Department of Tourism would bring out printed tour guides and pre-recorded audio tour guides which would make the likes of me obsolete.
I could be in the creative field, a graphics artist, a photographer, a writer, painter, sculptor, an ad executive making a living out of the things he's created and the things he loves. I could work all day, all night, hold exhibitions that receive rave reviews. Over time, I'd receive awards and my work would be resold by investors for millions of dollars and give me a royalty. I could do dope, have models for girlfriends, travel to exquisite place and attend workshops to broaden my horizon. But then, I'd be probably disorganized, a junkie, depressive and prone to commiting suicide. The whole dream could go sour if I'm not good enough and I'd live a life making sketches by the footpath near the Jehangir Art Gallery or some such place. I'd have to work for a client who's paying for my creative work and therefore he gets to decide whether the color is blue or yellow, when all I want is a dull grey. Most of the times he wouldn't pay the final payment and I would be left with no recourse but to forfeit it. The worst of all would be the pressure of having to produce something creative / path breaking / revolutionary on demand and perhaps at short notice, which would eventually lead to a burnout.
to be continued...
Jul 26, 2009
Split The Pain
Nothing To Lose
Summer of 69
To E16 and back again
You Bring out the Up-Walli In Me
I always wanted to do this post. Started making up this list a long time back, ages, it seems. As if the list on the side wasn't enough, I wanted to have a list of singular posts, and not blogs as a whole, or writers, that had, at some point in time, left me mesmerised. Influenced me so much, that I have gone back time and again to these words, sometimes for a moment of solace, sometimes to be mesmerised by the play of words again, to recreate the powerful imagery in which I lose myself... and sometimes, to just remember the tingle at the back of my neck when I read these the first, nay the second time, ever! Some of the links are perhaps obsolete, some blogs are perhaps forever lost, others are dormant since long, some of them have moved on... The list is of course incomplete and I can think of a few posts for which I am too lazy to hunt the links. Like the post on 'smells' by Smriti aka Soulcurry, or a couple of poems that I relate to very personally. Others, which I read ages back when I'd just started blogging, yet more which were more interesting for the stream of comments after, than the post in itself. There are other blogs, Ive chanced across since then, some of which I've devoured in a few hours of office time spent better. But, Gah! Now, Shorter or Longer, Never...
Jul 1, 2009
any of you on my msn contacts list?
May 29, 2009
Urvashi, my 9-year old niece who stays in Canada won some poetry contest... here is how it goes
'When I was'
When I was one, I ate a drum,
When I was two, I ate a shoe,
When I was three, I ate a bee,
When I was four, I ate a boar,
When I was five, I ate a fish alive,
When I was six, I ate some sticks,
When I was seven, I ate the number eleven,
When I was eight, I ate a gate,
When I was nine, I ate a dime,
When I was ten, I did it all over again!!
May 28, 2009
May 27, 2009
May 10, 2009
After years of being ridiculed as a member of the Bajrang Dal, a dear dear friend is now un-officially off the singles list. :)
Just in time, I'd say, buddy, just in time!!