One Last Time

Thanks to the times we live in I doubt if at least one inspirational speech, we heard in our lives, did not allude to one of the most overused couplets of our time

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

I had a rather unromantic tryst with these words first penned by Robert Frost, it was a part of my English language syllabus in class 8th or 9th, I can’t exactly recall. But like all great pieces of art or science if you are meant to learn it because someone else decided you should, this piece of literature is no longer a great specimen of human creativity but is experimental rat meant to be dissected, questioned. At least some part of the soul of this couplet has not touched me.Every now and then I feel like rebelling against the thought behind this couplet. Even if the undercurrent known to me might be wrong, howsoever unlikely it is, any other undercurrent interpreted by me would have invariably led to me getting less marks in English exam :D. Worse still, i ran the risk of being branded a duffer. Whatever might be the reason, today I find myself concurring with the majority that frost ignored the beauty that lay all around him for he had unfinished business. He chose to psi(a kgp lingo, i could not resist using,) the beauty that lay all around him.

It is malady that has struck us all. Many a times I find me and all I know ignoring all the good things around us. Being a guy whose many a reaction are driven by his sense organs, I shall allude to good food. I have been a diabetic for over to years now. Yet the day I confirmed my suspicion that sooner or later I was going to be a diabetic still rings in my mind. My limping steps towards the emergency ward in Kolkata’s daffodils hospital with no one by my side. my lonely night in the hospital cabin and the pleas of the attendant to switch channels as I was watching the race of the season. the race where Kimi snatched victory from Hamilton. :D. What a race it was. When the senior doctor came and scolded his junior in front of me for diagnosing my three days of non-stop bleeding and told him to test me for blood sugar I did not need to wait for the test results to know what the outcome was. But curiously enough I did not feel sad. Years of mental preparation paid through. I thought that from tomorrow I am not going to have sweets so lets indulge. The taste of the melting cookies and chocolates still linger on in my mind. From that day on I have had one non sugar-free ice-cream to celebrate that I had successfully controlled my taste buds for two years. Four chocolates ,10 sweets, two pastries and one or two cold drinks. I guess that’s pretty good.Nowadays if I do decide to indulge my sweet tooth, it is a very special occasion. So, I take extra pleasure in each bite knowing full well that the next bite might come after a considerable length of time. In some ways no one enjoys his sweet in the manner I do.

Continuing with the theme of this blog.I sometime know that I will have to let go of certain material objects, figurative hopes. However, I feel a compulsive urge to indulge for one last. I did not have any siblings at home so almost anything precious, I had,  was collected by my cousins. But on the last day I found myself indulging in my precious to my heart’s content. This kind of extended to my emotional self. Due to several twists of life, I found myself hopelessly in unrequited love. Some say everything is fair in love and war. But I play my wars within ambit of fixed rules and my quest for love had some queer rules driven by my need to possess a false sense of self-righteousness. One day I decided that I wont ever try for her love again. But then again I had to try one last time.. Indulge one last time knowing full well that some things can’t happen.

Thus I sum up my life with quotes:

I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

But the woods are lovely, dark, and deep

The decade that was

The month of December is usually the time we bribe our conscience. We look at all things that we did over the last year, We console ourselves for our screw ups ,mistakes and lie to ourselves that the next year would be better. This December is slightly better for me I have definitely two less lies to tell to pacify my inner guilt. I no longer need to tell me to stop bunking nor do I need to tell myself to be

disciplined in the way I lead my life. Being a diabetic, every meal, every second of laziness is a complicated third degree differential equation for me. But then I am no longer in college and my health is better than before. SO, there you go..

But its kind of funny, I miss this ritual of false promises. Even now I cant think of any major resolution rather than continuing the way I am doing.

We now live in the age of media. It’s a bit funny that this post was inspired by an article in cricinfo about the things we missed in the first decade of this millennium. This blog made me realize that 2009 wilt signify the end of second decade wherein I could really understand what a decade is. In many ways this year gives me the first opportunity to analyse the decade for the media frenzy that surrounded the new millennium in 1999. Doordarshan is probably the single biggest one word non-English entity that signifies the disconnect in the last two characters when i write any date. In the early nineties, DD1 in my uptron B&W tv was the holy grail of entertainment. Sometimes our antenna  did pick up signals of other temptations like ESPN but they were primarily an aberration.The B&W was replaced by a colour tv with a remote but for some high moral ground I did not allow cable tv at home. I wanted tv in my room and I did not want too many distractions. Although I was a teenager, I was given unparalleled freedom at home a courtesy not extended to my parents by me :D.A better part of 2000 was spent away from home. Now, I have DTH at parents home but i have a generic disdain for TV, my tastes have been polluted by ad free high-definition prints of TV series’s like house,In my home,, I have not bought a TV yet.

Next part is probably my digital life. Internet came to Dibrugarh in around 2000, I definitely had my first brush with internet in 2000 around the time of Sydney Olympics. I was really proud to have an email Id back then. Back had free email ids.although by the time i wanted to create an id it was subscription based. Yahoo was the big big giant of internet. But then all these are a part of 2000’s. the 90’s had no internet for me. Computer was a black and white screen having all data in floppies. It was fun to code in GW Basic. But all the hype around that time regarding computers and internet and the bust made me decide against studying computer sciencee.I thought if all people are computer engineers what is the fun in it. This resolution was manifested when I chose electronics over CS in IIT. Now I earn my bread and butter from internet and I stay online forever.

The third most significant thing for my generation is that India can win Test Matches abroad.

Ruminations on the years gone by

“The evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones” : William Shakespeare.

A fictional piece intended to raise raw emotions in a mob inclined on forgetting the treachery enacted in the corridors of power of Rome. Like everything written by Shakespeare, you can interpret these exhibits of superhuman wizardry over words to suit you needs. I too indulged in the same. There are moments in our life that make us inexplicably happy, makes us want to scream in joy loud enough to snap our vocal chords so that those joyous screams get mortalized as the last sound vibe emanating from out mundane existence.

As i enact those moments in my conscious and sub conscious minds, i cannot fail to appreciate the single thread that binds those moments together is the element of surprise. There is no such thing as a pleasant surprise.

The earliest such surprise that my Alzheimer free brain can think of dates back to the early nineties- 1994 to be precise- I was in class three. Had not achieved much till then. was a mediocre at school who somehow managed to get a double promotion. Was the opposite of being an athlete. My only claim to fame probably was that I was the cutest person in the co-ed school. We had a 10 minutes break after two classes. My cheeks used to ache after that. In fact one of my teacher remarked that i am only fair guy in my class much to the displeasure of a few of my classmates. So coming to the pleasant surprise. I was asked by one of our neighbours to go and watch a quiz competition. The quiz was open to students up to class 8. So, I went. I thing led to another and I found myself participating in a team with another guy from class five. The quiz was a written one. So, the results were not declared immediately. Guess what we were third by getting five out of 30 questions right :D. The winner had around 20 questions right. But boy my joy knew no bounds !!!That certificate remains the most wrinkled piece of paper I still treasure. I got many a certificates after that but that one remains special.

Next surprise fast forwards my life to 2002. I was in Assam then- upper Assam. I just heard of IIT a year back and wanted to get in. But nobody I knew any of the interiors of any of the IITs. I had a row with my best friend that year. So, had spent the better part of the year trying to find out how to get into IIT. For a reality check, I though I should give NTSE exam. I was a student of the state board and the scholastic part of the NTSE was from CBSE board. And like JEE, nobody I knew had cleared NTSE. Anyways I gave the exam. I had no faith in the way our answer scripts were going to be corrected in class 10th boards. This lack of faith was vindicated when my entire school was awarded 66 in English. I gave NTSE so that I can back my claim that my state board sux in evaluation. On the day I was leaving for Delhi to apply for schools, I read the paper. The paper had my name. I was fourth in the state. prelim of NTSE So, I left for Delhi armed with evidence that my state board sux. Moreover, our state had a reputation for declaring results late rather late.

My life in kgp revolved around extra acads- kshitj, tech gc ,placement committee work and alumni cell- necessarily in that order :D. When I joined kshitj or ktj as we affectionately call it. It was not so big as it is today. I was primarily involved in events in Ktj but the biggest surprise came in spons. Me and chuha went to Delhi for our DP trip. DP as in Durga Puja– this trip is the time when we go out with a begging bowl to organize the fest that has become a phenomenon now. The year before the entire member team had collected around 20 k. Not even a single penny came from Delhi. Me and chuha were given target of 20 k from Delhi. By that time our entire member team had collected 2k from one months worth of calling. With modest hopes, I landed in Delhi and within an hr of my reaching Delhi, i started cannibalizing SF(:D)- the cult fest our bigger brother back then. By afternoon I had 8 k. Chuha had arrived by then, we then decided to meet one alum who was not so inclined on giving us money. I don’t know what struck me but i started talking to him about an ad. Chuha was getting frustrated by my side thinking we lost the money – why will someone sponsor us after hearing the nonsense i was blubbering. But I was in the midst of a Midas touch then and he backed me adding a few more nonsensical sentences.When I had finished, we got a cheque of 15 k. We had achieved our trips target in one day. We somehow held our nerves for a few moments and once beyond the visible range of Mr. Subhash Kalia – we indulged in mad celebrations. We got many more sponsorship deals – probably bigger in volume but first time surprise tastes sweet.

beauty and sexy

In the twilight of my teenage years, sexy had an devilish forbidden tinge to the emotions and reactions evoked. But beauty was always beautiful, always good, always heavenly, always worshiped.
That brings out the question before me today what is beautiful and who is sexy. Even this very question has in it a few threads of the fabric on which i shall attempt to answer this question to myself.Rather it is probably my flawed interpretations that results in the based use of the words who and what. This gangotric bias means i search for abstract beauty and material sexiness.
Thanks to the lots of page 3, we often come across rankings of the most beautiful and sexy personalities, actress, celebrities and even first ladies. now what is that makes Hema Malini or a Megan Fox beautiful in the eyes of the scribes.The truth is I don’t know.One documentary i saw in my kgp days tries to answer this question in terms of mathematical ratios, the host who is the new Q of james bond franchise compared the ratios of his own face and that of Liz hurley :D.
But I am still not convinced, I have five sense organs and a mind that dreams and dreams a lot. The only beacons I acknowledge as light is the statement by Keats “A thing of beauty is joy forever“. Joy that can enter your hearts through eyes,ears,touch,nose, tongue and even lazy ruminations of the days gone by.Since Keats had no words for sexy, I shall stick to the mathematical definition of sexy or as Sheldon told abt his sister in big bang theory “having the right amount in right places”. This may be sexist post, but it is intensely personal n hence contains a guys perspective.
This is more of a monologue to me counting the infinite number of reasons as to why i feel ******* is the most beautiful person I have ever met in my life. Since my liking for her is destined to go unrequited, I have made a zillion attempts to like someone else to declare some as more beautiful, but i guess I am the hitler of 1944 fighting on two doomed fronts. For those of who dont know who ******* is, it will stay that way but I guess a bulk of the people who read my blubber know who she is. Unfortunately she no longer reads my blog I guess. As regards to things photographs are probably the most beautiful things man can make and corals and Arunachal the second most beautiful things God can make.
Talking about sexy, it has a very mundane connotations, at least for me, I may find my worst enemy to be sexy but I don’t think they will ever be beautiful, a person for whom I will risk my life. I don’t think i am selfless enough to say I like someone more than me, but probably things and persons I consider beautiful would precede me on my only escape ladder. I guess the post has already turned out to be long enough, so I try to put topper of my sexy list.
********** (Don’t ask me why I don’t know )
Jessica Alba
Megan Fox

Law of averages and Instant Karma

My favorite TV series is house m.d.

I have had several reasons for liking it for the past year and a half as i compresses six(and counting) seasons of entertainment in these months. It will not be an overstatement to say that my pathological suspicion about the quality of any three-hour long marathon coming from Bollywood has more to do with TV series than any Hollywood blockbuster. For just like Bollywood, every Hollywood movie has one theme, some great evil strikes and some American guy(or the occasional Brit Commodore Bond) saves the world doing stunts that would put Mithun at his inglorious worst to same. Yet, I am an Engineer(at least my degree says so :)) hence I find myself marveling at the technical brilliance. This is not to say that Hollywood movies are not great, I saw the dark knight -five minutes-travelling 120 kms to the nearest multiplex. Even back home, we have had works like Taare Zameen Pe, Black, Jhonny Gaddar and the likes. But good movies are usually an aberration than anything else.

Talking about my favorite House M.D. (and for people who do not think my show is the best- I really like Boston Legal, HIMYM,Big Bang,Prison Break and the rest but I hate South Park and Friends) , it satisfies my craving for comedy,mystery, digital lust(Lisa Cuddy rocks!!). Also for the bulk of months,I have galloping the sound bytes and visual kilobytes, the tv series closely mirrored life. I was diagnosed with diabetes, some results (actually almost all) interpreted it as type 1, but one doctor said it might be 2, he conjured a test which told that there is possibility of type 2. So, like House usually does, the doctor put me on some mixed therapy for a year,if the therapy succeeded, it meant I had type 2 (MTV :D) mind it type 1 treatment for type 2 can be fatal.

But there are so many reasons (many of them emanating from the fact that you just like) for liking something or someone. For that matter, although incongruous,there can be a single reason for disliking or not disliking something or someone (one of them being you like something/someone too much to spare any of you hormones to dislike). So, why do I like House, its funny, it gives hope, it celebrates brilliance, it celebrates the innate goodness in every person, its protagonists are flawed persons. Above, it trusts the intelligence of the viewers, it does not enforce any particular point of view.This week’s episode was one such example. Like in every other episode a random dialogue triggers House’s enlightenment yet it leaves it blank whether karma does have role.

Now as to why I am writing my first blog on a tv-series,I watch almost everyday. Some part of me wants to believe in law of averages. Maybe I have had the better share of luck throughout of life, but my skewed and screwed arithmetic always says that till now, I have frequently brushed the ugly side of luck. When I look at the obviously incorrect (or maybe correct) numbers(nothing to do with the tv series), I just hope and get a positive vibe for the one thing( or person) I so dearly like.

unrequited Love of my unrequited love

I plead, I beg, I scream, I pray I cry
for it to leave me alone
Yet it still comforts my eyes
When I cry all alone.
When my eyes scream
“No more tears to rain”
It make me dream
About Dancing in the rain
With the one I wish I live on till eternity
And my tears go away to the distant island of reality.
Requited love is only a crown of thorns
that forever conspires to keep you forlorn.
The pain of parting makes your heart shiver in fear
You need your ears to hear
You need your mind to listen
What the nose might have spoken
You need your skin to tell that she is actually here
To reassure your mind that you are near
To the one who is so dear.
In unrequited love, I meet, I kiss, I love my love
When I wish,when I want where I claim
For I can dream when i wish, where I want.
I need no music, no sight, no fragrance, no touch
For I can dream what I want and how I want
For I am the love of unrequited love .
Yet I wish for the crown of thorns


First of all I got a confession to make as to why I am writing a post that is neither a review of the latest movie I had seen, the last novel I read or one of my infinitely long cribbing about my lack of any luck with the opposite gender. I never intended to write this post, all morning I was thinking of the title to my blog on the ray of hope called Salman Rushdie. Since, it does not seem remotely possible that any girl will fall for me in the near future and my firm resolve to not be the only person in my generation in my immediate family to indulge in arranged marriage, it seems I will get a girl only when I am fifty and rich and famous. The positives about such wishful thinking is that at least I will try to be rich and famous till I am fifty. It is another matter whether I get a Padma Lakshmi or not. Actually I am just trying to imitate an ostrich when I say it is another matter for my only two crushes crushed some of my best friendships I had cultivated. Of course wisdom prevailed in round two and I salvaged the wreckage to some extent.
Now that I have accomplished drawing tangents around the topic of the post, I guess its time to draw the diameter, I did not want another round of curses as I forced my net savvy friends and juniors to publicize my post and post comments.

With the confession settled I guess its time to fill the dots. For those of us who does not own a vehicle, public transport is a story of everyday life. For bachelors like me, invariably it is the auto. Having left kgp sometime back, I am now more or less settled in Hyderabad. I usually commute to and from work in an auto. My life has seen me settle down temporarily in many places from the idyllic village called rohmoria in Assam, which has since been swallowed by the Brahmaputra to the concrete jungles of Delhi, Kolkata and the island called Kharagpur. Besides, my frequent battles with my health sees me traveling to Chennai pretty frequently. All these experiences have inculcated in me a pathological suspicion towards the person who drives the rickshaw or taxi or auto. Here in Hyderabad, most autos ply by the government approved rates unlike other parts of India. But every now and then someone hikes up the price, it has the immediate effect of waking up my hibernating bargaining skills. I now usually drive a hard bargain,scream over a few rupees. Amongst all these, there is one particular auto driver who usually takes me to office when I am late, he always charges the right amount. Yesterday he was asking how much I earn and in which building I work. I felt kind of awkward, and replied I earn enough to more than comfortably feed myself. He then ask do I earn around twenty thousand. I said I earn a bit more. The conversation ended therein.

Today morning again I took an auto to my house , the auto demanded 30, I finally got it settled for 25. Probably, I will indulge in the same again. The thing is who is overpaid and who is not. What is the right price for the trip, I dont know. Till then my pathological suspicion will continue to rule my head.