A poem i wrote loooong ago in one of my engg classes (ADA) and I won the first prize for it in a competition too ;) trying to show off :P
Think of the places you have been
Think of the people you might have seen
Were they the nights of a journey or a journey of nights?
The story of 'could haves' and all 'despites'...
When did it happen!
How could it be!
Does it happen to everyone or just to me!
Was it the fuel in my car or the last peg in the bar ?
Nevermind! the journeys I have made so far...
Was it outside in, or inside out?
All these questions and all those doubts
keep ringing in my head, all hollow from within...
A locket in my neck, and a prayer to Him,
or was it coming from somewhere within?
With my realisation or the realisation of me
again I think of places I could/should have been...
Never the less it's a beautiful world
where smaller the ring, the more it is curled
But is it me in the ocean or the ocean in me?
where the forces in my head, take my head to the moon.
But is it late ? or a lil too soon?
Just thinking of the places I have been...
thinking of the people I have seen...
maybe on the moon ...
Monday, December 18, 2006
Monday, October 02, 2006
Be it Another brick in the wall or smells like teen spirit or sometimes even
fade to black, even if it is a compulsive hearing because of my brother's continous
blurting of the same, I have always been surrounded by a lot of good quality music
. of course! when u have loads of 'tera tera tera surooor' and 'where's the party tonight'
pouring out of the radio channels in one form or the other that even 3 different channels dedicated to good Indian music have scored a good deal of -ve points with me... so much so that I some time start to wonder if there is any art left indian music, or everything has been turned into Pepsi/Coke: good to taste, but full of harmful pesticides (and we still drink it! after all Amir Khan asks us to).
Mr Qutubuddin Aibak (he who? he is the dude who made that roundish bulding in delhi that we occasionally see on post cards/maps of delhi... )kinda came to my rescue and took me to a place long forgotten by me and my friend(we meet most weekends ,sit in a mall sip coffee in barista/cafe coffee day and discuss the world and how monotonous has it become). It was the less popular The Hindu (TOI is most read) that ran an ad for some thing called the Qutub Festival. Organised by the Govt of Delhi, this festival even offered Bus rides from a point near by! So job less is this festival that to woo the crowds
, they have to offer rides! and btw, the festival was free for all. Since we were anyhow pretty balse about the the music we wd hear at a coffee shop/ Mall (they know nothing more than Kenny G or if its good luck then Pt SHiv Kumar Sharma's son) we went to the fest, trying to be late coz it wdnt anyhow start at 630 u know(IST), we reached there by 745 i guess and saw that they had laid the path to the festival's performance area with good old fashioned diyas! the path looked like sprinkled with tiny stars! the idea was a very welcome change from the neon lights/ trees loaded with electric bulbs that show u the path(and the stones u watch out for) ever so lifelessly.
On the stage were some quawwals that i thought had long died and maybe they have been called here to bid farewell to this form of music. It would have been best if Some Himesh Reshamia would have felicitated them for their long innings. what started after that was out simply a period full of intense rousing music that engrossed us totally. theirs was a music that had the madness of a fanatic, intensity far greater than of any bollywood movie I have ever watched, so much so that before I knew, I was head banging to a music that was miles apart from Rock to which head banging is usually associated to. what was common for both, was quality. Maybe we need to run that extra mile to the village and taste the raw material before it is manufactured into a one taste liked by all cuisine. maybe lets get out of the wall as all in all we are nothing but bricks in that wall...
fade to black, even if it is a compulsive hearing because of my brother's continous
blurting of the same, I have always been surrounded by a lot of good quality music
. of course! when u have loads of 'tera tera tera surooor' and 'where's the party tonight'
pouring out of the radio channels in one form or the other that even 3 different channels dedicated to good Indian music have scored a good deal of -ve points with me... so much so that I some time start to wonder if there is any art left indian music, or everything has been turned into Pepsi/Coke: good to taste, but full of harmful pesticides (and we still drink it! after all Amir Khan asks us to).
Mr Qutubuddin Aibak (he who? he is the dude who made that roundish bulding in delhi that we occasionally see on post cards/maps of delhi... )kinda came to my rescue and took me to a place long forgotten by me and my friend(we meet most weekends ,sit in a mall sip coffee in barista/cafe coffee day and discuss the world and how monotonous has it become). It was the less popular The Hindu (TOI is most read) that ran an ad for some thing called the Qutub Festival. Organised by the Govt of Delhi, this festival even offered Bus rides from a point near by! So job less is this festival that to woo the crowds
, they have to offer rides! and btw, the festival was free for all. Since we were anyhow pretty balse about the the music we wd hear at a coffee shop/ Mall (they know nothing more than Kenny G or if its good luck then Pt SHiv Kumar Sharma's son) we went to the fest, trying to be late coz it wdnt anyhow start at 630 u know(IST), we reached there by 745 i guess and saw that they had laid the path to the festival's performance area with good old fashioned diyas! the path looked like sprinkled with tiny stars! the idea was a very welcome change from the neon lights/ trees loaded with electric bulbs that show u the path(and the stones u watch out for) ever so lifelessly.
On the stage were some quawwals that i thought had long died and maybe they have been called here to bid farewell to this form of music. It would have been best if Some Himesh Reshamia would have felicitated them for their long innings. what started after that was out simply a period full of intense rousing music that engrossed us totally. theirs was a music that had the madness of a fanatic, intensity far greater than of any bollywood movie I have ever watched, so much so that before I knew, I was head banging to a music that was miles apart from Rock to which head banging is usually associated to. what was common for both, was quality. Maybe we need to run that extra mile to the village and taste the raw material before it is manufactured into a one taste liked by all cuisine. maybe lets get out of the wall as all in all we are nothing but bricks in that wall...
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
i found this written in my bro's folder... His name is anshit, prolly aka Anshwa :D
a great piece ...
a great piece ...
ANSHWAs BANIYAN
Long Back on IGT,
Wen i was new,
Frienz as such,
I had few.
I found a friend,
Who was igt send,
He used to be alwayz on,
His name was anshphenomenon.
What do i say about him,
he s as cool as an ice cream,
Poor innocent fella,
I think hes behind Miss.Angela. (( no offences towards angela dear ))
So i took to the album,
To have his glance,
Omigosh ! whts he wearing?
I laughed till off-baalance.
He insists its a shirt,
A white one except sleeves,
I think thts a baniyan,
He must ve worn wen he brought it new.
Till date im confused,
AS to what hes wearing on,
But, i think thats a baniyaan,
Whats your opi-ni-on???
(( this ones for u ansh....dear frnd.....))
Wen i was new,
Frienz as such,
I had few.
I found a friend,
Who was igt send,
He used to be alwayz on,
His name was anshphenomenon.
What do i say about him,
he s as cool as an ice cream,
Poor innocent fella,
I think hes behind Miss.Angela. (( no offences towards angela dear ))
So i took to the album,
To have his glance,
Omigosh ! whts he wearing?
I laughed till off-baalance.
He insists its a shirt,
A white one except sleeves,
I think thts a baniyan,
He must ve worn wen he brought it new.
Till date im confused,
AS to what hes wearing on,
But, i think thats a baniyaan,
Whats your opi-ni-on???
(( this ones for u ansh....dear frnd.....))
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Of trains and cruel mathematical series
28 f 54
54 f 56
72 f 36
10 m 33
25 m 48
13 m 24 ....
it is not tough for a guy to decode the above series... this happens with all us middle class males so bereft of quality companionship in trains... the series above is a testimony of what I call the great divide of India...
If u still havent understood what the above thing is, well, lemme elaborate on the plight that eats on us like an earthworm feeding on a leaf. It is a very slow and painfull slaughter of our hope to spend some 'quality' time with members of the opposite sex at a place where there are no parents or relatives(their company is fine till we dont grow our batch of pubic hair) ...
The series above is what we see when we gaze at the reservation chart of the train that the station guy puts up so nonchalantly... Seat no. 28 F 54 years, Seat no. 54 F 56(pfff),Seat no. 72 F 36(oh c'mon!),Seat no. 10 M 33(what the hell!), Seat no. 25 M 48(whatever.. it's always this way..),Seat no. 13 M 24 (Yeah thats me ...)
You see, India is a huge country and when u have to travel to the other side of it, u end up spending close to 20 hrs in the train... U see so much in the journey and are so overwhelmed with it that u have to have someone to share ur feelings with (umm did i actually write what i just wrote? now i know y am single and eager to mingle even at this age...) .
Coming back to the series. I am right there at the end with the unlucky seat no. And it is called the great indian divide coz all the pretty faces and beautiful bodies travel in the AC coaches! for somehow the fathers of hot and attractive young women are always wealthy enough to keep their daughters away from their potential mates! and we are left with 28 f 54 's
, 72 f 36's to learn about their nephews(mostly) and sons(irritatingly) working in great MNCs and almost always a passout of II(Ts/Ms) ... phew...
I am taking a Deccan airways next time. I am told the the great Indian divide narrows there. Long live liberalzation. posted by anksphenomenon @ 10:12 AM
54 f 56
72 f 36
10 m 33
25 m 48
13 m 24 ....
it is not tough for a guy to decode the above series... this happens with all us middle class males so bereft of quality companionship in trains... the series above is a testimony of what I call the great divide of India...
If u still havent understood what the above thing is, well, lemme elaborate on the plight that eats on us like an earthworm feeding on a leaf. It is a very slow and painfull slaughter of our hope to spend some 'quality' time with members of the opposite sex at a place where there are no parents or relatives(their company is fine till we dont grow our batch of pubic hair) ...
The series above is what we see when we gaze at the reservation chart of the train that the station guy puts up so nonchalantly... Seat no. 28 F 54 years, Seat no. 54 F 56(pfff),Seat no. 72 F 36(oh c'mon!),Seat no. 10 M 33(what the hell!), Seat no. 25 M 48(whatever.. it's always this way..),Seat no. 13 M 24 (Yeah thats me ...)
You see, India is a huge country and when u have to travel to the other side of it, u end up spending close to 20 hrs in the train... U see so much in the journey and are so overwhelmed with it that u have to have someone to share ur feelings with (umm did i actually write what i just wrote? now i know y am single and eager to mingle even at this age...) .
Coming back to the series. I am right there at the end with the unlucky seat no. And it is called the great indian divide coz all the pretty faces and beautiful bodies travel in the AC coaches! for somehow the fathers of hot and attractive young women are always wealthy enough to keep their daughters away from their potential mates! and we are left with 28 f 54 's
, 72 f 36's to learn about their nephews(mostly) and sons(irritatingly) working in great MNCs and almost always a passout of II(Ts/Ms) ... phew...
I am taking a Deccan airways next time. I am told the the great Indian divide narrows there. Long live liberalzation. posted by anksphenomenon @ 10:12 AM
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