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Showing posts from September, 2005

The Seventh Sense

As I proudly displayed the ppt presentation to my aesthetically challenged boss, the slide trickled down from the top, like the matrix, the tiny particles taking their respective places and forming the title page. The template was carefully chosen from a bunch of 'Andhra' related images. The subject, since you all are unaware, is a building complex for the Govt. of Andhra Pradesh, creatively titled "Andhra Centre". My boss stared at it and said, "ye niche kya kya photo lagaaya hua hai ?" As I patiently sold my idea, I could feel a glaze over his eyes, his brain refusing to comprehend the aesthetics of it. He said, "haan haan...wo drawing sab lagao, phir dekhta hoon"...The wall of the seventh sense, an entity as old as time.

I can imagine the stone age maverick Tim, sharpening his stone tools with his stone knife and heating the stone tip on the flames of the stone fire. As he put his final touches to the disparate image of 'Man Killing Animal&#…

Crow Water and Stones

[Dedicated to Doel Ghorai, the sparkling star of Sept. 2005]

You know, finding old pals of yesteryear doesn't have the same charm anymore. Where are the scented/non-scented letters, the euphoria of long years of absence, the delight of hearing a friend's voice on a crackling phone ? It is like the story of the crow and the pot of 'little' water.

Back then, papa crow smiled and explained how little stones plopped into the pot would eventually lead to a rise in the level of water. The little crow boy nodded and went about collecting the otiose stones and dropped them one by one. Eventually the level rose satisfactorily.
The little crow, his pot of water, his girlfriend all lived happily ever after without any thirst.

The End ? Of course not.

In case you are still interested in the analogy, the pals i am talking about are the little stones, whom I, the little crow, have to carefully choose and retain in the pot, so that I may enjoy the water, which signifies the fruits of tr…


These signboards have fascinated me for quite a while.
I wonder if it has an effect on ANYONE at all.
Exhortation of course, has suffered huge limitations.
Here are the top 5 signs I saw on the way to Shimla (which I plan to blog about soon).
Here Goes :





Requiem for Delhi

You sadden me my love
You don't deserve this
Your arteries are choking
Too many of them little worms
teeming, eating you up
Where are you headed Delhi ?

You were aura, you were power
You were grand, you were majestic
What have they done to you Delhi ?
The tumors have spread too fast
The blemishes have turned into scars
Green has turned brown
Blue has turned black
You were so pretty Delhi...

Poor disadvantaged unemployed sick
minority majority rural urban
They all have drowned you
Your endeavour to please them all
Has weakened you my love
The spark in your eyes
is no longer steady
RWA's can't help you today
Can I save you Delhi ?

Your heart silently chokes
Too many of them little worms
and more are breaching thy territory
Khakhi and sparkling white
Are raping you dear
You still smile bravely
and give them space in your heart
How will you survive Delhi ?

Will you survive Delhi ?

Tis the season silly!

[from the archives]
You won't believe the weather we are having here for the last few days. Weather is of course the quintessential conversation filler, but this one is exclusively about it. So I am obviating all the disgrace attached to the topic just for this piece. ok ?

The rains have always been unpredictable here at Kharagpur. The day would be sunny, all bright and pretty and WHAM ! We would have heavy rains an hour later - uprooting trees and pushing the cows and dogs to take shelter in our hostels. This year, the truculent batch of rains ended somewhere around mid august, in turn gifting us with ten days of light breeze and azure skies. We ignored mother nature for a while, too preoccupied with pseudo academic activities. Then, the new improved Kharagpur rains came unannounced.

It started off with a chilly night a week back. People dug out smelly blankets and hideous full sleeved t-shirts. The following day's breakfast session seemed like a day from deep winter. Handkerchi…