Psychedelic Slippers

hello world.... n by the time u read this , the new year will b a day o more old. so happy new year.. every year we celebrate 31st.. kiss n bid farewell to wat the year was. those party animals party hard, some smoke it off, while others drain it down their throats, n its cheers n smiles. time to burn the old man,(like he s sm ravana of some sorts), n light up the skies with a kazillion rockets, n scream n yell out to welcome the new one. m tryin to hard to feel the verve here. on this commemorable last day of the first decade of the new millenium i hav been online like whole day (jus like almost every other day). n in retrospect last year was brighter... ( i mean 31st last year). n i gues it shal alwes be, cos it l b one of its kind. now bac aft the last sunset of the decade... it wasn one of the most spectacular sunsets witnessed, but the colors were jus too good. n the full moon looks awesome. i went to our management club. there were waters on three sides, i felt blessed to hav g

jus bac from like ova 1000kms of travel... ma bones are shaky. rural roads are stil bumpy. so i was bouncing all the way (like literally). the task was to locate our family deity. (who lives in some lost tiny village in maharashtra) so day one began at 6.30... n we were all ready by 7 but the driver hadn turned up... so were there til 8.30 waitin fr him. the journey finally began. we were suppoesd to pick breakfast smwer on the way, but that din quite happen. we finally reached bijapur at 12. a small detour to the "gol ghumat" it was Xmas day n damn crowded. some n number of schools had thought of gettin kids there fr a picnic. the gol ghumat, is this huge dome like structure. u go to the top of the dome n whisper n ur voice echoes down. it was way too noisy tat day to distinguish one voice from another. ok this gol ghumat is supposed to b the second largest dome in asia.(o is it world?) . was sad to notice it is one of the most ill maintained historical structures. there wer

i woke up to the sound of waves... the sea was calling. There are times when i feel tat way, today morning was one of them. i heeded the call. i put on my shoes n hopped to the beach. the sun was already 20 degrees up the horizon. I sat on the wall on the shore on my favorite edge, beneath palms tat swayed. If there is one word tat best describes how i felt its "AWESOME". i sat there soaking the morning sun, as the sea beneath me turned red n then golden from the pale grey shades of early mornin. there were some fishermen already out in the sea with their nets.. still boats floating around. waves crept up on the stones n receded. it was like witnessing natures symphony-- the waves on the shore, rustling palms, whistling wind, n everything basked in gold. i felt blessed. sitting there. it was like seeing "the light". I felt chosen special, i felt the rays of sun glow me. i sat there for a long time. seeping it all. i closed my eyes. i felt light... felt i cud fly wi

m all packed up from pune n bac home fr some peaceful studin... as i packed ma stuff i realised how much id been accumulating over the days... the bags went on piling up, n i had to search every nook n corner of the room, to find out more to stuff in. what seemed like an endless exercise was surprisingly only an hour. thankfully i had kairavi (ma roomie) to keep chattin ard with. somehow the most trivial things seemed significant then, and to beat the fact that this cud probably be one of the last times we spoke face to face, we stuck to more trivial stuff. (the usual chattering). we went for the usual cup of chai n cream roll in the evening. i took out a cam to the amusement of the chai walla, who began comments on how photogenic he was(nt). we walked ard aimlessly on pune streets, (one of our favorite tp) n then onto the zed bridge across the river. i dumped most of the stuff onto ma parents. i returned late that night after dining wit mum dad.. ma roomies were still up waiting fr me

Long time there blogger pals. Hullo. Time’s jus been flying these days. Trickling of people from the ppl m in touch with list has already begun. I am proud to say I have by far managed to overcome my fb-addiction (not havin a net connection, n keepin min bal on ur cel has done the trick). I hope it remains so even when I return bac home. I wont say m tired of pune, but m not sure I can endure stayin here more. After weeks I have got bac into a routine. I managed to break my habit of sleeping at 2, so m in bed by 11 (max 12…) n yes I do manage to get up early n go for walks. Walks on pune roads are the most pleasant times of my day. I enjoy walking. Sometimes it’s a slow lingering, lost in thought walk; when the noises around are silenced by those in the head, other times it’s the all fresh n ready to roll , confident walk. (that’s the one in the mornings mostly, when m on ma way fr breakfast n formerly when I used to go to class). Walking during most working hours tends to b a lil u

dunno y i find them so mesmerising! the following 2 were clicked last year the kartik i made this diwali!

On account of an interview, I had my first solitary tryst with the city of dreams. Since I have come to Pune, I have developed a child like delight towards everything I come across. Its neither disapproval nor immediate acceptance, jus pure delight—free from prejudices. I somehow manage to look at things of devoid of opinions abt it to bother my view! The 5 hour journey cud b split into 2 distinct phases –the first one that took 3 hours from pune to navi Mumbai (tats like wher the metropolis begins, if m nt mistaken) and the second that took 2 hours to cover almost half the distance traversed before. Despite of the long journey, it was much pleasant. The lonavla-khandala stretch was spectacular. I was happy to see the greens, though they were markedly different from the lush goan landscapes. Bare rocks were prominent between the green beds. The roads unwound leisurely, and did full justice for neone who wanted have a running view of the valley. (visiting this place at a more leisurely

When I was as ol as calvin (calvin n hobbes) , all I could think of was play. Blessed with a school without notebooks and textbooks, my childhood was an endless playtime. I loved to play. Bro and me the eternal playmates. We played stuff from bhatukli (house-house, o whatever u guys called it) to marbles and seven tiles and dabascot (a modified form of hide n seek). The best of them al dhabadhubi. Games that are almost non existent now. The choice of games would alwes be dictated by the number of people available to play, and the hour of the day. No kid would ever stay at home beyond 5 p.m. goin to frens place to call em to play was an everyday ritual. Then there would be levels amongst them, neighbours, building frens, gully frens, school frens (those ones that would come occasionally to play at ur place). Playtime was the singlemost universally awaited time of the day in the whole of the kiddo community. When it was my bros turn to select games, we would playing with gi-joes n cars,

thats actully the title of a box that comes in economic times, read some of the most weirdest newsbits there. i jus thought of popping in a hi to u guys. there's a universe of possibilities out there, wake up to one everyday. each day there's a new song... the one tat makes u smile through the walk, through the day.. i have come to really enjoy my morning walks to the institute. a random cute guy on the road, the mischievous kid outside the classroom, the lady in a rush to catch the bus, the housewife bargaining at the bhajiwalas, the newspaper lady, the geriatrics club at vaishali's n rupali's... over the days, these people have become so much a part of my day. we fall into routines so easily. we move form task to task in a subconscious way... and yet at the end of the day, m somehow not bored of doin the same things everyday. somehow each day is different, special. there are no post thoughts, n i think m keepin someone waitin for the pc.. .so signin out now.. b bac wi

...contd Of many things a smile can possibly mark, often it marks the beginning, of events that may o may not be as pleasant as those that bring the first smile, but nevertheless it is where things start. An innocuous smile, may forever alter the course of things to be. Things begin there... with the smile that followed the “hello…” What is it that makes your heart tingle? (the smile in the hello? the one reciprocated back? Or that tiny stolen moment when ur eyes meet for a splitsecond?) What is it that runs through your body and it makes it respond in novel ways? When jus a gaze can tickle you within and without and a light brush of skin can arouse all ur senses together? Is this “IT”? the thing that everyone talks about—that glorified, sacred word? Less said, more felt Less lived, more left A boxful of dreams! (Or a Pandora’s disguised?) ...to be contd

(this one's dedicated to the one who inspired it.. Peanut) Wish I could write a poem A verse to make you see You mean more than all world And all it holds, for me Wish I knew what I could say Or what I could do To make you feel the love for me I’ve always felt for you. --Anonymous The beginning A few minutes for the clock to strike 12, Maya was filled with anticipation. She lay on the bed trying hard to read a book. “It’s no big deal” she told herself, “you gotta be studying gal, c’mon now, hmmm” . She began reading aloud. Not of much use. “so who is it gonna be this time” No guesses. She impatiently awaited for the phone to ring. And ring it did, dot when the cell flashed 00. All too eager, she picked the call, without even botherin to chec the number. Stunned by the voice on the other end-- a stranger, yet not so much; the words ordinary, yet so special “Hello!! Happy Birthday!” she felt like in a dream, lost for words… “______ here” the voice continued bringing her back to rea

today was a not so normal pune –day for me, ma bro had come down, n spent like the whole day with him. So on this nt so pleasant auto-journey tat we had between places, the auto-wala thought of shining some philosophy upon us. he played with Sanskrit shloks, n interspersed Marathi with as many English words as ne common Indian. He made his own audience. Me n bro (bakras of the day?) he seemed heavily inspired by geeta, he spent quite some time talkin on the pro s n cons of Karma (without actually using that word). Then he moved on to describe the omnivalence of the Almighty. While I had enjoyed the initial few minutes of the talk on Karma, as it moved to more radical views I lost interest. I am not an avowed atheist, I do believe in powers beyond my grasp, but that is far from my perception of god. Though in times of today where religion is more a social obligation than a faith o belief, I find it hard to limit my god, to a specific form, ability, o nature. my god keeps evolving like m

The world is your mirror. The good you find in others, is in you too. The faults you find in others, are your faults as well. After all, to recognize something you must know it. The possibilities you see in others, are possible for you as well. The beauty you see around you, is your beauty. The world around you is a reflection, a mirror showing you the person you are. To change your world, you must change yourself. See the best in others, and you will be your best. Give to others, and you will give to yourself. Appreciate beauty, and you will be beautiful. Admire creativity, and you will be creative. Love, and you will be loved. Seek to understand, and you will be understood. Listen, and your voice will be heard. Teach, and you will learn. found it on a forum

There’s a swing down ma house. No not a swing in some garden, its one of those old wooden swings, with thick wood, n thick chains, that creaks a lil once in a while, but neverhteless looks grand and impressive. Its been one of my favorite places to be, since I have shifted here. Swings have always been ma lil favorites. Ma earliest swinging memories wud be summer vacations in Belgaum(ma native place). Ma grandpa would take us (me, bro n cousin) to a nearby park in the evenings on his bicycle. The bicycle ride would be one of the most awaited things, on the then, grandiose, HERO cycles, and the carrier was a place to be fought for! The park, would inevitably be crowded, and you had to wait ur turn at the swing( and so also the see-saw or the slide). Once on the swing, it was like being the king of the world. Grandpa wud giv the first push… n then I would swing away. (sometimes bro would giv a harder push, that wud make things in ma stomach churn, and result in a mad chase in the park wi

So I enter into ma third blogging year. I thought I should like write some masterpiece or smtin to mark this event, but on second thoughts the best I could do was just write like I do every time cos this blog is now just a babble of ramblings of my mind as I work on the keyboard. Sometimes I try to organize my thinking, more often than not though, I just tend to drift away. When I began this blog, I d thought of writing about moments that have an impact on me. I think at the core, my blog Is still the same… but what u read, is more of what I pick up from those moments, as i often fail to mark them as I write. Wet-footprints has given the writer in me a renewed identity. Am not one of the best writers, and my language is far from right, yet I have found more like me through my blog, and the blogging world has by far changed the way I perceive things, near and far. I have realized that people all around the world are the same, and we all have the same emotions. Common man is governed by

i become more of a midnight blogger when i come home. i thought i had gotten over ma addiction to the net, bt thats nt to b, i stil can sit hours infron of the browser wit literally nothin happenin. nights are a time of sporadic activity, cos thats when most of my pals are online, and then hours pass by without u realisin it. (ther are days when it gets really borin, n there are jus one o two of em, n other times when ur fingers find it difficult to juggle betn windows) umm well tats nt wat this post is all about. i kinda get too involved in the present these days while writin, i hav to struggle a little to remember wat i actually wanted to write about. ok ther i go again. sorry so this post is about bein single. every phase as it comes looks fun..(depends on how u look at it). its more like u get used to it n then don wanna change ne more. u want it to go on. i am single. n i kinda like this phase. like the freedom, the no bonds, no worries, the hangin out with frens, casual flirtin,

picked it frm here

m bac at home.. aft a well lazy weekend.. m waiting fr tomo. ahh wats special abt tomo? the buddy returns. wil be catchin up wit ma coll frens tomo, umm wats so big abt meetin up? i guess its that familiar at home feelin. i went to colg last week, it was like this totally difft place, may be cos i had been there aft many days, but there was this feelin that it wasn my home any more. not the home it was for like 4 years of engg. i met up my professors. well the talk with my professors was really encouraging. i was no longer afraid to discuss them, may be its more easier to discuss ur past than present, but nevertheless i did. with a hope that may be it will help them help someone else like me. cos i have been luckier to find my way back, someone else might get lost. i wasn scared to talk ne more, i spoke more freely than ever before, there were no worries abt their after thoughts. i guess its the freedom we feel when we dont have to worry abt makin impressions(right or wrong). when u re

Prologue His well tamed fingers moved with ease on the keyboard. Words appeared on the screen mechanically. He wasn’t thinking, not about the report. That’s it … this is the last one, and then ...PARTY TIME. Abhinav had been working on it for a month now; and the boss never seemed satisfied. “This Para here, it doesn’t sound pretty right, may be you could just go through it again” (yes ma’am right away); “You could rephrase this thing. Make it sound more convincing” (sure, no problemo) “Hmmm not bad, but are you sure of the statistic?” (!?!?!$$$!?!?! Am not a jackass to make up statistic for a REPORT). But well it all had come to an end now. Done!! Over!!! Phew!!!!… all the overtime and all that... I need a break. He closed the file, and opened the browser. It had become a ritual now, some time on the net at the end of the day’s work. He felt he deserved it... jus to cool off the nerves. He opened his inbox, found a couple o friends online, “the usual losers... dint they have anything

Abhinav spent a restless afternoon. He hated secrets. What’s with all the right time, right moment rubbish? When shall the world be sensible? Abhinav dressed up and called out to Neha. No reply. “Nehaaaaaaaa, where is this girl now! Mommm... where s Neha?” “Oh she went out an hour ago!” *** Totally confused by now he drove steadily to the beach. He found her bike parked besides another. He dialed her number… a giggle replied… “walk straight to the first shack on your right.” What’s with all the secrecy? He was sure it was one of her stupid pranks. He wouldn’t be surprised to find one of the gals he’d dumped sitting across the table with her. “I hate her sense of humor. She’s still a kid. For god’s sake Neha grow up!” his feet stopped at the steps of the shack. Across the table sat a dark guy, a no-gooder by the looks, and Neha was smiling at him. She drew her hands off the table as she noticed Abhinav (were they holding hands?) she smiled at him, the guy smiled too. Abhinav dragged him

jus went through ma blog archives n realised how infrequently i have been writing off late. i jus cant think of enuf things to write about. there's a lots of things happening around though, m busy with studies. i knw it kinda sounds weird after u graduate out, but yes, like for the first time in 5 years i actually am busy with studies. and yes.. i have started reading the newspaper.. like ritualistically, unlinke before when i wud just scour through thte headlines. every day in pune is a new learning experience for me, everything from my walk to the classes to ma time in library. there's so much information faliing on my ears and for the first time i am absorbing as much as i can. feel almost like a child, a five year old that gulps down everything that comes by it. well i am nothing much than a toddler in this huge city... i still miss my hometown, but as i said in ma prev post, missing becomes an obvious part of you,and u stop thinkin about it. today is rakhi.. not a new thin

Do you remember how we became frens? When was the first time I said hi to you? Our first day out? Our first fight? Do u remember it all?? That First look and I instantly knew you are “the one” my friend forever… the one made for me, my alter ego, ma comrade, ma accomplice, ma aide, ma FRIEND!!!! EXCUSE ME!!! u ok? We talkin abt friends here!!!!! All these questions are irrelevant when u think of friends. I don remember when n how I became friends with ma closest pals. Life jus brings u together, for some reason or the other, n then it clicks… yeah love… but seamless n unbound! Friendship doesn happen at first sight (like some claim love can!) Its like whisky… the older the better!! Life happens, and then it filters those few precious ones and turns graphite to diamond. That’s how ordinary people become special. Pals are those infron of whom u don have to be anything else but u.. u don have to think, u jus be yourself. Its simple, easy.. free of apprehensions.. being friends I mean. You

Why is humility so hard to come by? Most religions teach the wisdom of humility, but who listens? We all know that life is finite, that human civilization, for what it’s worth is self-limiting. And yet the most educated of men will strut about their little world like actors on stage;they assume the mantle of immortals, deluding themselves into thinking they are indispensable, until eventually they join all those other indispensables who have reached perfection in the form of dust or ashes. Why so much pride when a little humility can get us far more by way of love and peace and happiness? Better to efface yourself like the cricket who is heard but seldom seen than to flap your wings and crow like a cockbird before ending up as someone’s tandoori dinner. Happiness is an elusive state of mind, not to be gained by clumsy pursuit. It is given to those who do not sue for it: to be unconcerned about a desired good is probably the only way to possess it. ‘I enjoy life,’ said Seneca, ‘ because

I wasn’t quite in a mood of going to class today. I dragged ma feet out of the bed, into the shower, and to the class, with a lazy cup of tea on the way. A lot of thoughts crowded my head as I walked. I felt like crying. NO it was not something personal, I was crying at the status quo. I woke up today at around 6.30 in the morning when I heard the ‘corporation ka nal ’ (tap) spewing water. That’s rare and happens at all odd hours, as if trying to evade those it is meant for. I got up and mechanically filled bottle after bottle. The tap coughed and spitted, but I remained persistent besides it. Through the minutes that passed like hours, I wondered how many such waits were there in my life ahead, or in fact for all of us who plan to live beyond the next 10-15 years or more. Had our predecessors foreseen this when they raised us as children of abundance? I doubt! Has there been a blind overconsumption in the name of affordability and comfort; a trend that continues to this day (and not s

This is ma first post from pune. Done with unpacking and stuff. I guess its ma first experience living in a metropolis n m already missing the greens of goa! Life is harried(hurried) here, yet ma pgmates out here have lots o time to spend. Most of them, like me, are doing one or two courses for enhancing their skills, so we got lots o time off. I entered the city in the wee hours of Saturday morning, with sleepy eyes. We were picked up by a family friend. We entered the house with a realization that there was no water. WELCOME TO THE CITY. We prayed the taps to spill out the last drops of this now-rare necessity! The gods were generous, n the taps sang the golden song of gushing water. We freshened up, n mom n me were set to roam around the city. We checked ma pg. its this old house with stone walls and this 50s look to it, though it’s a decent enough place to live. Its cool n nice n not so much city like, a relatively at peace locality though not totally untouched by the voices of the

m off to pune from tomo fr a couple o months. jus done with packin ma stuff (half ma stuff rather, n wondering how to stuff the other half into the cupboard witout it falling over neone who might attempt to open it in ma absence) tat apart... SIM LYF (a term coined by sid to college life) has finally come to an end in all respects. i have had a hectic week with runnin around everywher. meetin frens , buying stuff, repairs, making the eletronics in ma house more parents friendly.. (tat took some effort, n m still not sure whether they hav got a hang of it completely). the most signinficant part of my past few days is ma tiny cousin. he is been hanging around me like he is ma tail o smtin.. n he sat up like til half an hour ago, helpin me pack ma bag (he is really tiny.. only in 3rd ) n he has been more disturbed than neone else probably by the mere thought that i am going. Its the first time ever we will be separated by such a long time and distance. his watery eyes kept askin my date o

Tonight I can write the saddest lines. Write, for example,'The night is shattered and the blue stars shiver in the distance.' The night wind revolves in the sky and sings. Tonight I can write the saddest lines. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. Through nights like this one I held her in my arms I kissed her again and again under the endless sky. She loved me sometimes, and I loved her too. How could one not have loved her great still eyes. Tonight I can write the saddest lines. To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her. To hear the immense night, still more immense without her. And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture. What does it matter that my love could not keep her. The night is shattered and she is not with me. This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance. My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her. My sight searches for her as though to go to her. My heart looks for her, and she is not with me. The same

jus thinkin drives u crazy at times. wats more scary losing someone or being driven insane by the thought of losing someone? why do we become more confused as we grow up... how do we define our wants n needs, or is it jus a blurred merge of one into the other... n we walk on it ...an obscure line that divides two nothings.

the other day in the bus, i got a seat besides a lady with her 3 year ol. they were deeply engrossed in a mother child conversation. the child lifted his hand n placed on his moms.. finger on finger... palm on palm... then moved to feel the nose.. once its moms then its own.. n so on.. as the bus moved further we passed by a cow. the mother helped the child identify the animal..."that's a cow, see it has 2 eyes jus like yours, one nose, one mouth..." through most of the journey (until the child slept) the mother helped the kid associate with the things passing by, helping it find similarities between it and its surroundings. in our kido times we all associate with things around us by finding similarities between us and the things around us. when do we then undergo a transition and start searching for dissimilarities? as kidos we all are inculcated with a basic fact of life, that despite of different forms we all are essentially the same... why else do we imagine talking a

If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs and blaming it on you; If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, but make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, or, being lied about, don't deal in lies, or, being hated, don't give way to hating, and yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise; If you can dream - and not make dreams your master; If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with triumph and disaster and treat those two imposters just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, or watch the things you gave your life to broken, and stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools; If you can make one heap of all your winnings and risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, and lose, and start again at your beginnings and never breath a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew to serve your turn lo

this movie(documentary) was released today on the 5th june the occasion of world environment day. an awesome movie.. the video is totally amazing.. the narrative is gripping... if u give it a good ear... its really inspiring. its like a how u wud see ur actions and their impact if u were someone else, someone not on earth.. below is the link to their youtube channel http://www.home-2009.com/us/index.html do watch it

Today I answered ma last paper of engineering. 4 years after I made the first conscious critical decision of ma life, I dunno if m fit to call ma self an engineer. That’s a different issue to talk about. I am a little relieved today, a little relaxed… and its given my brain some time to think unrushed. While comin bac after the paper, I had one of the longest drives home I could ever have( no, o wasn stuck in a traffic jam o netin). Glancing outside, I wondered how many such drives were left, before I bid adieu to ma second home (or was it more like first). Our vivas will be done by 15th o so, n then the only strand tying us back will be results… n for most of us, it will be an almost never to return back journey as we move out of there. When I look back at these four years, words fail me, just as they would for neone who wud attempt to put ” life ” in words. As we move out from all our comfort zones, to the big black world, i question the ability of the educational system I was brou

Note: this post is nt a result of over studying, i sometimes apply engg to my life. while in the car (after the paper on ma way home) stuff that should have runthrough ma head durin the paper, was runnin after it. so there were these coordinate axes that kept comin to ma head, n conversions frm one reference to another. we all, in our lives have a coordinate system. in most cases we place ourselves at the origin, and then everything else is relative to it. this relativity is perception. jus like how changing the reference point is gonna change a whole lot of things in the problem u r tryin to solve, so is the case with life. as we change our reference, we change our perceptions towards things. we define everything in and around us with respect to this reference (origin). imagine a coordinate system having three orthoganal axes. everything else then, friends, family, work, etc. fall all around the origin. u choose ur place in this reference system. ideally ud b placed at the origin. the