tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88694842011-11-04T11:17:16.511+05:30Folk-dancing on rarely trodden neural pathways. Ahem.Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.comBlogger1291100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-16498273851636919482011-06-02T17:03:00.002+05:302011-06-02T17:04:07.399+05:30

There goes my hero..Watch him as he goes.

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-88363616494011939872009-09-02T00:58:00.006+05:302009-09-02T01:27:03.128+05:30

After the rain has fallen - StingI love the warmth of my green sweatshirt, after a work-out and a quick shower. It smells innately of home, of sweat and strain, of a concocted blend of Brut and Old Spice, of incense from myriad mornings, of sambar from a fresh stain. Some old smells, some new, some breathtaking, some not so much. And I especially like wearing it when I take a walk.The rain had

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-33305233475145329152009-06-21T22:12:00.000+05:302009-06-21T23:04:03.486+05:30

It is necessary not to be "myself," still less to be "ourselves." The city gives one the feeling of being at home We must take the feeling of being at home into exile. We must be rooted in the absence of a place-Simone WeilJune in Bangalore has got to be my favortime time. I have decided that I like it better than Shakespeare's England, Mozart's Vienna and Italian Rennaissance put together. Rain

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-43431700284969699622009-04-24T14:50:00.000+05:302009-04-24T15:10:55.572+05:30

"I have known great love. At various levels - at its most evocative, its most poetic, its most humourous, its most heroic and its most heart-breaking. I have felt the moments of lightness that falling in love brings. I have felt the spiritual epiphanies that keep human relationships going. I have wrapped my legs around the smoky, sultry, hazy, smooth comfort of love on cold nights. I have

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-31818375104381891752009-01-05T20:42:00.000+05:302009-01-05T20:51:28.602+05:30

You are my biggest hero. You were my hero because you always told the best stories to put me into blissful slumber when I was five. You were my hero because you always bought plum cake on your way back home from work exactly when I was craving for it the most. You were my hero because you bought me my first cricket bat and bowled half volleys in our backyard until I was the best cover-driver

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-14399478046994682972008-10-06T00:50:00.000+05:302008-10-08T11:27:35.660+05:30

Phew. Six puris wolfed down in record time, a delightful cup of a masala tea, a bottle of cold mineral water and a whole ten drags of Kings later, I sat down in a sleeper coach, legs outstretched in exactly the position that allowed my feet to bask in the AC air. And as the iPod shuffled over to Raghu Dixit, I actually felt heady vapors of a memorable time wafting out from the top of my head,

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-61638251170181841952008-07-26T12:24:00.000+05:302008-07-26T12:43:36.541+05:30

I just retrieved an ancient file on my PC from 6 years ago. I had just drawn an outline of a guitar on the wall and was putting together some content that would adorn it. A combination of guts, naivete and inexplicable recurrences of boners while listening to loud music!Look at me when you shoot a bullet through my head. It seems I found the road to nowhere And I’m trying to escape. Simple living

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-27677705349051581412008-07-01T21:38:00.000+05:302008-07-01T21:51:36.373+05:30

I changed my job. You just have to change your job when you start to find that the godawfully long journey back home everyday from work is getting so boring that you amuse yourself by not giving in to inertia and remain still when the bus jerks and stutters through all of those gadzillion road humps and traffic snarls.So the best thing, naturally that comes out of a job change is the distance I

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-66791717362345169832008-06-08T00:04:00.000+05:302008-06-08T00:05:47.408+05:30

Growing up is strange. Among other things, once you hit 23 you feel the hedonist in you slowly but surely being killed. The pursuit of pleasure cannot afford to be an ethical principle any longer. The chief symptom is keeping a log of your spending on a daily basis. I think it is the typical Indian trait. We write down everything! Our idea of perfect work conditions has historically had a lot to

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-32478635284551604052008-03-02T17:53:00.000+05:302008-03-04T11:42:28.861+05:30

It is so strange.I just lost one of the most important accessories one can have in order to function in modern times, something that cost quite a bit of hard-earned money (the source of which itself is something of a saga!) and something of a life-support system that connects me toeveryone that I know. I lost my Nokia 6300.After a long, tedious, fruitless search feeling disgusted with my luck, I

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-3703263263573380222007-12-11T22:52:00.000+05:302007-12-11T22:55:05.798+05:30

What a time to live!It's a time that is laden with the exact mixture of highs and lows to keep you on the ground and on your guard. A time that lets you down after exactly the appropriate instant before happiness gets to your head. A time that is constantly lengthening your learning curve. I know its too self-righteous and probably too holier-than-thou. But the way I see it, after a decent

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-42422499609818707422007-08-14T09:19:00.000+05:302007-08-14T10:21:24.510+05:30

The only band listening to whom I feel an overpowering sense of mystery and magic, I've concluded, is The Doors. Deer women in silk dresses, moaning radios, woolly cotton brains of infancy and Oedipus. Even after a decade of first exploring the band, going through an album of The Doors is a thoroughly Shamanistic experience. Kilos of Respect.In other news, India winning an away series against

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1162889923359943552006-11-07T14:18:00.000+05:302006-11-08T12:15:23.843+05:30

Of all elaborate plans the end..This blog is shut down. Indefinitely.

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1160207659646593942006-10-07T13:17:00.000+05:302006-10-07T13:24:19.680+05:30

So, my dad was sitting in the living room reading a big book of scriptures last evening. I come over, switch on VH1 and watch AC/DC go berserk in Sydney. Something about this is typically middle class urban Brahm! I'm thinking of an old Little Hearts ad where the father is doing a puja, the daughter is trying to sing a classical Carnatic song and our dude is upstairs headbanging to Megadeth's

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1158859206627523362006-09-21T22:07:00.000+05:302006-09-21T22:50:06.756+05:30

I was away writing poems. Really!I'm now a failed poet though. See, every novelist wants to write poetry first, finds he can't and instead writes a short story. He finds that a short story is about as demanding as a poem, gives up and writes a novel. And failing at that, only then does he take up blogging back again.I just got back from another dinner party. Another friend, feeling particularly

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1154377708568485842006-08-01T01:54:00.000+05:302006-08-01T01:58:28.603+05:30

There's something about chaos. It is found in greatest abundance wherever order is sought. I think thats why it always defeats order, because it is better organised. Chances are some oriental wise-ass might've chronicled this, but it really did dawn on me.Its my chronicle, the "Chronicles of Naan-yaar?"A passable symbol of what a fresh graduate goes through when he has bad grades and a sizeable

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1149674859222817602006-06-07T15:32:00.000+05:302006-06-07T15:47:07.396+05:30

You scored as Jimi Hendrix. You are Jimi Hendrix!The pioneer of electric guitar and inspiration to all great guitar gods!Jimi Hendrix80%Ozzy Osbourne!75%Billie Joe Armstrong65%Kurt Cobain55%Tommy Lee50%James Hetfield45%Slash25%What Bad Ass Rock Legend Are you?

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1148985610229109822006-05-30T16:06:00.000+05:302006-05-30T16:10:10.243+05:30

Trinity meets a lesbian lover. Called Ether. Don't you see? It all fits. Neo is an anagram of One, Ether an anagram of Three. The Cat-fight for the future begins.I hope the Wachowski Bros are reading this.Possible names for the new sequel: The Matrix Convolutions or The Matrix Rotations.Its been one year since the first blog-meet I was ever a part of. Maybe the aforementioned excuse for a

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1148983665005099172006-05-30T15:35:00.000+05:302006-05-30T22:22:50.346+05:30

Here I am after yet another shtaap-gap, itching to drift towards those weirdly wonderful tangents and wander off on those impersonal ego-trips of opinionated idiocy. You want? Maybe my blog does have more than 18 half-lives. More than that of a radioactive cat. Bravissimo, her Muliness! Haven't you heard? Bravissimo is part of the new thrilling concept of cyber-applause. You could reciprocate my

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1146958989265540462006-05-07T05:00:00.000+05:302006-05-07T19:05:35.263+05:30

Up until 2nd PU, I had two major unfulfilled goals in life. One was to get an article published in Reader's Digest and the other was to give a speech at the graduation ceremony of Kumarans PU.I've been through a lot since making those small resolutions, in the process setting myself more goals that may or may not have yet been fulfilled. Some have been partially fulfilled, for instance I set a

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com130tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1144861145865979752006-04-12T22:29:00.000+05:302006-04-12T22:35:01.680+05:30

Badukidu Jataka Bandi Idu Vidhi Odisuva Bandi-Annavaru.

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1144344805385819952006-04-06T23:03:00.000+05:302006-04-06T23:11:04.626+05:30

B r i l l i a n t !!!I'm so kicked. Its the thrill thats associated with spending two hours in the torrent-sphere. Check it out, my latest catch on Bit Torrent: 1-23 FULL episodes of the Swat Kats!!Man, I miss old-school Cartoon Network. Old-school here translates to CN of the 90s. I mean I acknowledge the fact that the post-Toonami era really launched the cartoon industry into the mainstream and

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1143484062913756382006-03-27T23:46:00.000+05:302006-04-06T23:17:07.700+05:30

It is just not done. You cannot take a depressed soul and leave him alone in the eternal hope of time healing him. Time is the healer yes, but we all need words to catalyse the healing process. There can be no magical healing, it doesn't work like that. No one is purposefully looking out for a comprehensive trauma consortium right after a crisis, but words are welcome. Ears for words, all the

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1141746693685277492006-03-07T21:21:00.000+05:302006-03-07T22:08:47.060+05:30

Beach football bliss.Hue so beautiful.Guess where?Parasailin'? Hell yes.But ofcourse..!Back from Goa. It was paradise regained alright!

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1140513415425447962006-02-21T14:37:00.000+05:302006-02-21T14:46:55.426+05:30

I find traffic signals very intriguing. They are these transits in temporal relastatics where people are forced to halt for a bit and dowse down the fireflies in their heads. Musically, its an ensemble of Halfordians who've continually listened to Freewheel Burning, Killing Machine and Turbo Lover for half their lifetime. The latest addition to the playlist being Breaking The Law! I admit to have

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1140288510756126712006-02-19T00:18:00.000+05:302006-04-06T23:17:49.183+05:30

Angie, I still love you, babyEv’rywhere I look I see your eyes

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1138984538472631062006-02-03T22:03:00.000+05:302006-02-03T22:12:30.063+05:30

And say one of your greatest fears in life is being backstabbed by people you trust the most, people whom you live your life with on a daily basis. The concept of a backstab is admittedly subjective, if not warped. Suppose there is this project you are supposed to deal with for a time period. You implicitly assume that one of your best pals is going to pick you as a partner. When he doesn't and

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1138984327427956072006-02-03T21:57:00.000+05:302006-02-03T22:02:07.433+05:30

Unchain the colours Before my eyes Yesterday's sorrows Tomorrow's white lies.We might not realise it, but we are governed by the politics of perpetual change. With time, we discover whole new dimensions of ourselves that we never knew existed. It overwhelms us. Thats what it primarily does. From then on, depending on the state of the mind before the discovery it may either enliven us or alienate

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1138440253616991172006-01-28T14:52:00.000+05:302006-01-28T14:54:13.616+05:30

Can't help but say this,can't promise myself its just this once,but life sucks. major fuckin league.

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1136624413896048172006-01-07T14:01:00.000+05:302006-01-07T14:30:13.956+05:30

Now in building of chaises, I tell you what, There is always somewhere a weakest spot,— In hub, tire, felloe, in spring or thill, In panel, or crossbar, or floor, or sill, In screw, bolt, thoroughbrace,—lurking still, Find it somewhere, you must and will,— Above or below, or within or without,— And that's the reason, beyond a doubt, A chaise breaks down,

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1135872445143413942005-12-29T21:27:00.000+05:302005-12-30T00:09:05.333+05:30

So I was sipping coffee and watching an old cricket match on TV yesterday. And suddenly I started missing Harsha Bhogle a lot. I've always loved the man's ethics and placed him highest on the ladder of the world's best sport anchors. Although he's a lot more than just that.So I googled his current whereabouts...going to the extent of hunting down his e-mail id and stuff!I stumbled on several of

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1135410801803852562005-12-24T13:19:00.000+05:302005-12-24T14:07:51.350+05:30

You get onto your blog that stands unupdated since close to a month and embark upon another silent session of self-reproach. You convince yourself that its primarily because of an acute lack of time. And you foolishly hope to kid others with that. A couple of refreshing blogger meets later, there is suddenly an influx of time along with loads of renewed muse to write.You promptly set things in

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1132952165524327602005-11-26T02:23:00.000+05:302005-11-26T02:26:05.536+05:30

There comes a stage in life when you finally realise that the mistakes you are committing over and over again become too blaring to ignore. The realisation sees a literal and symbolic transformation embarked upon by several ink-blot tests that would among themselves elicit and defeat attempts at conclusive explanations of the mistakes.It can be just about anything. It can be screwing up an

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1132067445339146772005-11-15T20:38:00.000+05:302005-11-15T20:40:45.353+05:30

So, I hopped into the Computer Networks lab at college today. It took me a whole half an hour to realise how full of funky dung the thing is. Hubs, hosts, switches and point-to-point links coalescing to work up some maddeningly random facts. There are several types of simulators that demonstrate how these work on a computer screen. Among the different types of simulators are NCTUns, REAL,

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1131980489145528062005-11-14T20:29:00.000+05:302005-11-14T20:35:11.276+05:30

Run. Just run like hell.Thats one main reason why I love playing football. I love the unceasing breeze in my hair as I scram down the wings. I love what crazed running does to me. I love it when a counter-attack ends in a goal and leaves me near out of breath, gasping. I love it when the only sound I hear at this time is me panting and puffing, on my knees and wearing a contented smile. I love

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1131447918460643892005-11-08T16:28:00.000+05:302005-11-08T16:35:18.476+05:30

Ten Firsts:First Best Friend: Guru, a neighbour.First Screen Name: Thorn_within (ah, good ole IRC!)First Vehicle: BSA Champ (I ride a Yam now...and I'm too proud not to tell people that often)First Crush: That villainess in popular TV show Chandrakantha. Ooh boy, she brought out the throbs of the heart and whatnot! In not-so-reel life, its probably this cute lil' girl next door that I played '

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com1871tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1130394890310389552005-10-27T11:49:00.000+05:302005-10-27T17:27:03.220+05:30

It has come fleeting through.I'd like to thank Blogger, the rain-gods and my parents for having me.....AND ALL THAT SHE-BANG!Blogging has easily been Internet's best gift to me. What began as an ennui-cure has well and truly gone on to become an integral part of my life. A shrink, a template for flashes of creativity, a networker of sorts and a breeding ground for meeting some terrific people are

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1129918234391161982005-10-21T23:26:00.000+05:302005-10-21T23:40:34.443+05:30

In all the numerous tides human race has had to swim against, there will likely never be anything as tedious as pretending to understand postmodernism as a seriously respectable sociological concept.That and ofcourse trying to sneeze with eyes open...but let me not digress.For me, the only neat periods that history has been classified into would be the Ancient world, the Medieval ages and then,

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1129317400022060762005-10-15T00:42:00.000+05:302005-10-15T00:46:40.040+05:30

An old dream in a new mask....A hyperevolved visionary, a hard-edged rationalist, full to the brim with carefully nurtured moral principles and an absurdly clear sense of right and wrong. A unmuddied lake of a life, symmetrically rippled with the very essence of mediocrity. As perpetually guided by reason as unguided by freewill. Thinking thrice about thinking twice and seldom suspending

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1128405579468594172005-10-04T11:25:00.000+05:302005-10-04T11:29:39.476+05:30

There has to be some kind of a clinical explanation for why we are a lot more susceptible to emotional breakdown in times of ailments like fever or flu. Or it might be just me...because ever since I contracted fever a couple of days ago, I've found myself closer to crying than ever before. Its so funny its not even funny!An article about an Ethiopian Coffee Ceremony and free samples of croissants

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1127962333187476112005-09-29T08:18:00.000+05:302005-09-29T08:22:13.196+05:30

Among the myriad subcultures of global teenage-and-just-after population would be the indecent number of torn jeans worn. Also, the number of indecent worn jeans torn.Admittedly, torn jeans would be something I shall miss most as part of college life. That list for another day though.So I wore a really old, weathered and mother'd pair of jeans to college on one of those days when I felt like

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1127631898850691422005-09-25T12:32:00.000+05:302005-09-25T12:34:58.850+05:30

Eat this, Ekkta Kkapish.

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1127410353786515852005-09-22T22:58:00.000+05:302005-09-23T21:50:35.656+05:30

Man Utd go goal-less on the same day that my brand new white Levi's shirt gets 'dyed' green on the same day that my results come out on the same day that started with the Toilet Catastrophe.Lets just say Computer Networks is the latest entity on my list of "life's bastards".The randomest thing on my mind right now is that if you can help it, try and not have prehistoric parents.Its one thing to

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1126898141856185402005-09-17T00:41:00.000+05:302005-09-17T00:45:41.863+05:30

I was weighing the deliberations on whether or not I turn this blog into a virtual travelogue thing and start making some dough out of it. And then at a coffee-break in Sapaeti on the way back, I had some more ridiculously sweet instant coffee and have since snapped out of the travelogue idea. I mean I don't often find myself getting this tired of travelling. And not wanting to 'get away'. But

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1126244729223859982005-09-09T11:08:00.000+05:302005-09-09T11:15:29.230+05:30

It was one of those times when I felt the excruciating urge to talk cricket.I wish I had Boycott around to speak to...and also some Carslberg to guzzle on. Life would have come a full circle!Anyway, I came up some insights right after the last India-Kiwi round robin game. It looked so much like a nice little article that you would find in Sportstar that I actually mailed a copy to the magazine's

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1125404122761512022005-08-30T17:31:00.000+05:302005-08-30T17:45:22.783+05:30

Free-doom Jam:A mega slugfest of Pseudo Musical Souls in blue loose-fit jeans and black t-shirts.It indeed brings me a PMS-like depression to come to terms with the fact that I went along with the dress code.I'm also right now crawling through the untold misery of being in bad Maggi-making form.So if I come across as some kind of a maladjusted, socially isolated, sad jerk atrribute it to

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1124995612804340522005-08-26T00:12:00.000+05:302005-08-26T00:16:52.810+05:30

So it turns out that my favourite hang-out place in town is not J-cubez, the pub.It is infact a place thats the definitive antithesis of a pub!The Indian Institute Of World Culture. Funny how I've been there in the past and failed to bask in its magic.I visited the place one fine lazy afternoon last week, when I suddenly felt like delving into some of Killinger's Existentialist Philosophy stuff.

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1124446033193728542005-08-19T15:31:00.000+05:302005-08-19T15:58:17.986+05:30

Its the busiest I've been in a long time. The only time I've been busier should be the time when the intricate art of making ice-cream soda had me confounded.Oh, I've picked up a penchant for unclever digressions. One friend is so vexed at this development that he calls me the VD (Vexing Digressor). I apparently seem so anally retentive that the abbreviation is apt too.So, Pondy (sic) was fun.

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1123476492542600892005-08-08T10:11:00.000+05:302005-08-08T10:18:12.543+05:30

Ok, for three days from now, I'll be romantically unsober with nature and possibly that hawt someone.Off to Pondicherry,be back in a bit,Cheers.

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1123161338690980212005-08-04T18:40:00.000+05:302005-08-04T18:45:38.700+05:30

Apart from a couple of pilgrimages to Mantralayam and Tirupati, I've never really been on a road-trip in a car. Despite such a lack of frame of reference, I firmly believe bike-rides are better forms of road-trips.That I had terrific fun yesterday on a bike-ride to Nandi Hills is just more testimony to that belief. I think this was better than the trip to Chunchi falls that we did last sem round

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1122802127706771372005-07-31T14:54:00.000+05:302005-07-31T14:58:47.716+05:30

I think I suffer from a morbid lack of potent inertia.Its only partly true that I typed the above line out because I suddenly miss being a geek.That'd be a fairly accurate allegation yes, but I occassionally mean what I say despite the intricacies of the means in which I say it.It takes me so long to type out the initial few lines of my post that I sometimes feel not winning any of the

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1122487245924161072005-07-27T23:27:00.000+05:302005-07-27T23:30:45.926+05:30

I met this pal online who's doing his M.B.B.S. I tend to exaggerate my medical knowledge with such people sometimes and get really carried away.Me: ok...name a reference book for schizophrenia and madness.Pal: well, you have Sigmond Freud's thesis on schizophrenia..should be there online somewhere...the best available reference!Pal: Its there in my library...but generations of schizophrenics have

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1122274401990758382005-07-25T12:20:00.000+05:302005-07-25T12:23:22.006+05:30

I've always liked Saturdays. I've always liked rain. I'm currently deep in love with blogging. I especially like going to blog meets on rainy Saturdays.It was such a neat meet too!Ashwin was kind and courteous to brave the rain and make it to Barista at exactly 5 ish o'clock. He beat everyone else to it...who trickled in (literally) at 5 ist.I wouldn't have reached late if I preferred taking a

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1121935726897547662005-07-21T14:15:00.000+05:302005-07-21T14:18:46.900+05:30

I hate to make the fans of my one-off template feel aggrieved, but it apparently didn't go down well with a touch too many people.Maybe I'll find another crosseyed-blitheringly kickass template one day and put it up....time shall tell. (I practise thespian speeches on the John these days!)Alright, for the benefit of all confused women who seem to find it hard to comprehend men and their 'silly'

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1121527867189735282005-07-16T20:58:00.000+05:302005-07-16T21:01:07.190+05:30

(I've ALWAYS wanted to say that, hee!)I just want to celebrate my comeback with a major league satirical requiem for the darned exams, but I realised how pathetically bad I am at hymns and generally any poetic form.Yennyhoo, the war is over dawg!In a typically overwhelming sense of relief, I went and indulged in the typically satisfying post-exam bonhomie. Dine, drink and watch a second show!'

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1120663901143158032005-07-06T20:55:00.000+05:302005-07-06T21:01:41.153+05:30

1. The person who passed the baton to you : Srini, Arcane Crapper2. Total volume of music you own : Close to 50GB, of which 16GB is on the comp.3. The title and artist of the last CD you bought : The Complete Works Of-Rush.4. Song playing at the moment : Light of day, day of darkness-Green Carnation.5. Five songs you have been listening to of late or all-time favorites, or particularly personally

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1120300107889104522005-07-02T15:54:00.000+05:302005-07-02T15:58:27.923+05:30

Me: hey!A: hey...what up! whatcha doin?Me: nuffin much...just looking at some UNIX stuff.A: eeiw..Me: eeiwNIX? yep, sounds about right.A: huh? why the heck are you looking at eunuchs?Me: oh nevermind!Exams can't do a thing to stop my days from being surreal!Also stumbled on some funny Steven Wright stuff. Posting it for the pure lack of anything else to post. I like!Borrow money from pessimists -

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1119345172044100652005-06-21T14:38:00.000+05:302005-06-26T13:02:08.863+05:30

Hey!And the situation wasn't quite as intense as I thoughtI need you around to remind me when not to be calm.Could you do this for me?My egg-jams are here....maakaattack (not the same ring to it, no?)Be back soon,oh-kay.Add-and-umm:I'm done with my lab exams, both of which went terrifically well.Ok, so thats just fancy for saying "I might just scrape through"!Delightedly came home and watched 2

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1118825168833153622005-06-15T14:13:00.000+05:302005-06-15T14:16:08.836+05:30

Wouldn't the world be a much better place to live if it was completely devoid of academia?For how cavalier the thought sounds, I bet a gadzillion people around the world regard such a system as their idea of Utopia.Yes, not having to study is downright idyllic. Isn't it so painfully obvious?If we are the system ourselves and the system is functioning right against the favoured idea, wouldn't that

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1118130369097388252005-06-07T13:12:00.000+05:302005-06-07T13:16:09.103+05:30

Two more great pals, Prajval (Dadiya) and Raghu got jobs at Igate and I-flex respectively today.May the force always be with them and all others of the same awesome kind.Passing thought:There is at least one person nicknamed 'Dadiya' in every group of 10 largely Kannada-speaking people. Its a slang for 'fat pigs brought up on experimental food'.Pissing thought:I'm still jobless.

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1117731343973465932005-06-02T22:16:00.000+05:302005-06-02T22:25:43.980+05:30

"Wyak" is about the best word there is to describe that morbidly reflective state I tend to go into right after my birthday.This, when I can quite simply take the red pill and go on with the flow....not stopping to think about my 'accomplishments' in life and how ridiculously few and far between they've been.That that will ALWAYS come back and kick me in the butt is but Zen.If not, that sentence

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1117277825747459572005-05-28T16:25:00.000+05:302005-05-28T16:27:09.236+05:30

Swamped phone at midnight. Greetings by complete strangers at college. No-lab bliss. Cool breeze. Casa Picola. Vaticana. Pizza Milanese. Orange Soda Pop. Speculating about Matrix-4. Concurrently, about Hera Pheri-2. Laughter. The placement scene. More laughter.RAIN. Collapsed parking-lot compound. Water in basement shop. Homeward bound. Deforestation, nature's way. Coffee. Brief stint on air (

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1116964136571588992005-05-25T00:52:00.000+05:302005-05-25T01:18:56.643+05:30

Everyone would gather On the twenty-first of May Sitting in the sand To watch the fireworks display'Fireworks' indeed, especially to all that is left of a disgruntled soul coming home from an exam with mental constructs in loose cognitive binding states!If my thoughts seem senseless or even desultory, attribute it to this mild state of disappointment-induced rage I'm in.You'd think its

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1116328761439506292005-05-17T16:44:00.000+05:302005-05-17T16:49:21.446+05:30

It is painful sometimes how the semi-literate older generation use the word 'foreign'. You can almost invariably tell they mean USA when they say 'foreign'.Bob and me have resolved to be silently rebellious about this and speak of 'foreign' as Westman Islands from now on. We either have major issues with the US or with just getting old.Still on the whole 'western' affair, you know you are in

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1115923637572371762005-05-13T00:14:00.000+05:302005-05-13T00:17:17.580+05:30

There was this article in a newspaper on Technology Day that talked about the level to which machines have enslaved us. There was a whole column anatomizing the various instances where the gizmos proved a bit too smart for the users' comfort, the DPS disaster and the Hilton hedonics being the most vivid.This friend of mine just bought this ridiculously small cellphone enabled with bluetooth, IR,

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1115532648307729492005-05-08T11:31:00.000+05:302005-05-08T17:42:23.493+05:30

Howlarious!Why Did The Chicken Cross The Road?Plato: For the greater good.Karl Marx: It was a historical inevitability.Machiavelli: So that its subjects will view it with admiration, as a chicken which has the daring and courage to boldly cross the road, but also with fear, for whom among them has the strength to

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1114958132067218342005-05-01T20:01:00.000+05:302005-05-01T20:05:32.070+05:30

One of my closest friends got placed in Mahindra British Telecom today.As much as that rocks, I sadly noted how only 5 of us turned up for his treat tonight. I don't intend to be narcisstic in the least bit when I say the ones not present were not at all geniunely happy for him.I know it shouldn't matter a flying fuck to Abhi, but I worry sometimes about being left alone....as a result of people

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1114542174249914992005-04-27T00:29:00.000+05:302005-04-27T00:32:54.253+05:30

Guess who's back!Yes, I understand its not exactly a 'long time' that I've been out of town for...but when you're as used to Bangalore's pace of life as I am, five days seem an aeon!There is something indescribably nice about travelling by train that is felt even if you are deprived of a sleeper-class seat and bumped into the general compartment at the eleventh hour....especially if your

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1113913277640506912005-04-19T17:18:00.000+05:302005-04-19T17:51:17.640+05:30

I'm off to Gulbarga....got some Krikkit to take care of!Be back in about four days...that is ofcourse if I don't get scalded to death. Its 43 fuckin degrees out there, I'm to believe.Ciao!

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1113321296411806382005-04-12T21:18:00.000+05:302005-05-01T20:12:37.630+05:30

1. The word 'paradox' got coined by shrewd American caddies whose masters played golf at competitive levels.2. Preferring to travel by bus instead of an auto is perfectly normal, especially if you have particular distaste for tacky Hindi songs that the auto-driver plays on his "set".3. There are very few things more irritating than having to wait at the barber shop when the only available reading

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1112978952898124032005-04-08T22:04:00.000+05:302005-04-09T19:02:11.146+05:30

I got my 6th sem results a couple of days ago. I passed in EVERYTHING!!As much as that rocks, its totally depressing that I'm actually feeling weird about it.It kind of reflects that 'not flunking' has come to be a bit of an alien territory for me.But coming to think of it, its a fairly logical train of thought. Its one way of negating the effect that success' elusion has had on me.Stuff like

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1112470327929699732005-04-03T01:02:00.000+05:302005-04-03T01:04:49.190+05:30

You know when they advertise on television the very latest superawesome model of a 2000w Bose speakers? Its makes your neat little Adcom 1500W speakers unbelievably poxy.So off you stride to the Bose stall at Forum and bump into the exact same model that was on the ad. You walk upto the nice-looking female who's doing a demo of it. Her friendly smile notwithstanding, you throw all kinds of jargon

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1112022022917181482005-03-28T20:26:00.000+05:302005-03-29T18:35:58.736+05:30

He sat down, scragged and disgruntled from weighing one deliberation after another. He could feel the vague patch of thought in his mind ever so slightly becoming less obscure. It was the umpteenth time he sadly realised the insane level of passivity with which he'd been watching from the sidelines his life drift.Again, the urge to shirk it all off and get back to 'take it as it comes' eclipsed

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1111499694202308882005-03-22T19:20:00.000+05:302005-03-22T19:24:54.206+05:30

Angie turned one month old today.As if its not silly enough for me to remember my bike's tender age, I actually went out and bought a couple of pals some egg-puffs....ugh, this is one of those things that I will eternally remain ashamed to reminisce upon.As much as having your own bike rocks, there are things associated with it by which you can feel pretty hard done by.Like....at the petrol bunk,

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1111079765021408392005-03-17T22:45:00.000+05:302005-03-18T11:15:57.476+05:30

No really...I was on a cosmic purging process of sorts...really!Its the kind of personality disturbance that occurs after you very foolishly decide you're missing the comfort in being sad. Yes, sometimes life does that annoying bit of slightly altering the refrain of a happy Jim Morrison song and come up with a fuckably sad tune which goes "Mr Mojo fallin...fallin fallin.."Before you realise, you

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1110197863095992242005-03-07T17:41:00.000+05:302005-03-07T17:47:43.096+05:30

she finally left him had enough of her man's rage band aids covered her scars she left him bloodied beat his ass with a bat face sunk in like silly putty y'all can sit back so i could studyaaaaargh, where's it all going to!!!!I've been forced into listening to way too much neometal for my liking of late. Its depressing to see Papa Roach being the life of rock-themed parties. I think its more to

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1109669130932788642005-03-01T14:51:00.000+05:302005-03-01T14:55:30.933+05:30

I was never a big fan of taking lunch to college. More than the issue with it not being 'grown-up' enough, its the way that once you've finished your lunch, you're trying to put the box back in the food bag...but you can never ever open the darned thing.You try licking your fingers and open it at both ends..but no..it just WILL NOT open!Its one of life's bastards.Its about as frustrating as

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1109242160606212502005-02-24T16:10:00.000+05:302005-02-24T16:19:20.606+05:30

I think I figured out a fabulous justification for my stage/limelight phobia. My need to be as away from being the cynosure as possible is disconcerting sometimes.Its much like what would happen if a freed prisoner were to be forced out of the cave and out into the reality of the world. Plato once explained:"When he approaches the light his eyes will be dazzled, and he will not be able to see

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1108751952419295852005-02-19T00:04:00.000+05:302005-02-19T00:09:12.420+05:30

The worst part about a long vacation is how you drift into those painfully jobless stretches of time...with absolutely everything around seeming plain boring.On one such eddie in space-time continuum, you happen to stumble on an ancient, typically ho-hum trigonometry S L Loney book. Being jobless, you actually leaf through the pages...conveniently forgetting how you had once branded Loney 'a

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1108533079557178892005-02-16T11:14:00.000+05:302005-02-16T11:21:19.560+05:30

Mayday, mayday...Houston,we have a negative on the sex of that bike....Several conversations over the past couple of days have hammered my cognitive synapses about being straight....which have hence triggered the decision to get Blackmore a sex-change operation. One of the conversations instrumental was:Me: He's just an amazing blend of being smooth as silk and raw as an animal Blackmore...love

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1108208662496100212005-02-12T17:14:00.000+05:302005-02-12T17:17:57.260+05:30

Ladies,gents and other furry creatures...meet Blackmore, the vehicle of my inexpressible happiness (literally)! I was gonna name him "Tan-tan-ta tan-tan-tana" after Smoke on the water's opening riff...but Dad said it'd be too long.....I came up with the next best name,Blackmore! And what's More..he's Black...;)With a burning heartMaster of the streetsBullet proof and bound for gloryCities at my

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1108019225194427962005-02-10T13:33:00.000+05:302005-02-10T12:37:05.193+05:30

Lovesick-ness is an actual mental disorder!

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1107590785419259832005-02-05T13:28:00.000+05:302005-02-10T12:40:23.990+05:30

Its friday evening. I'm home alone, a cup of hot coffee in hand, poring over a crossword puzzle. I've got Collective Soul, Portishead, Ustad Vilayat Khan and Dizzy Gillespie queued up to play in the background...you know it can seldom get more soulful that this. I lie back on the couch, thinking about 4-across...looking out of the window as I do that. I stare up at the skies, at the fine

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1107280007497009602005-02-01T23:08:00.000+05:302005-02-01T23:16:47.496+05:30

So I come home...heaving a huge sigh of well-earned relief after a seemingly perpetual ordeal called exam-time. I turn on the comp, amp some Black Sabbath and click on the Fifa 2002 icon...and phut...the screen turns yellow...yeah, its just all yellow. Its almost as if someone isn't too thrilled about my idea of relaxation. Anyway, I look around to make sure I haven't suddenly contracted Jaundice

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1106673031923649012005-01-25T22:33:00.000+05:302005-01-25T22:40:31.923+05:30

Its well past midnight. Its one of those times when the eerie silence has hardly an effect on me. One of those nights where I'm cramming the hell out of a monster-sized mess of mutant carcass that ever went by the name of 'text book'. The thought of my future bearing a strong resemblence to a limo-wreck grips me to go at it like a man possessed. But as it turns out, I'm far too easily bored by

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1106409322122017542005-01-22T21:18:00.000+05:302005-01-22T21:25:22.123+05:30

Get a load of this I had no issues with the American lifestyle except with how it is a touch too oblivous to the emotions of the rest of the world. But this is just more testimony to my increasingly accurate belief that 'American Culture' is just about the most bindaas oxymoron there's ever been! Go ahead and sue my ass for being judgemental...I'll just remain happy that I ain't being chicken

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1106134976017866592005-01-19T17:06:00.000+05:302005-01-19T17:12:56.016+05:30

"Behind every successful man is a woman. Behind this woman is an expensively-clad ass." "Every average 19-year old Indian male will believe he makes the best Maggi on the planet." I do begin to doubt the subtlety in my humour sometimes....oh well, its just nice to know I'm taking the exam misfortunes fairly well...naaw, I'm just playin...its all good!

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1105860740216704852005-01-16T13:59:00.000+05:302005-01-16T13:02:20.216+05:30

Me: I still can't get over the RX tragedy. Pal (who rides a Pulsar): oh get a life dude, every Tom, Dick and Harry rides an RX these days. Do you really wanna be one of 'em... Me: well no...but I sure as hell don't wanna be another Mohammad that rides a Pulsar either! Pal: what?? Me: didn't you get it? Pal: no.. Me: *sigh*..its so lonely out here on the tower of

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1105636299822797552005-01-13T22:41:00.000+05:302005-01-14T17:09:45.826+05:30

yeah..thats the prospective me. The buggers a.k.a exams are here and as I lie here savouring the impending terror, I feel myself increasingly unguided by freewill!

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1105457100083037332005-01-11T20:50:00.001+05:302005-01-11T20:55:00.083+05:30

..is henceforth the official abbreviation for Spiritual Orgasm Syndrome. So Morse and Stratovarius can both kiss my ass..haw haw!! Now you know what kinda mood I'm in...thats right, its time for propagation of cheap gyan. This one goes out to all the animals out there...well almost all..;) ! Cheap Gyan: "They say you cannot remain a virgin forever because life fucks you every now and then. But

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1105208620243569352005-01-08T23:50:00.000+05:302005-01-08T23:53:40.243+05:30

me (pissed with the way my lab exam went): This blows maga, didn't get the output for the interfacing program.. she: haha..I didn't get it either...just manipulated the values...yey me (even more pissed): yeah well if I had a couple of x-chromosomes, I'd have been just as manipulative...

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1105111230537214952005-01-07T20:48:00.000+05:302005-01-07T20:50:30.536+05:30

As an analogy to the concept of multiprogrammed systems in real life, my Operating System text book spake thus: "...this idea is common in other life situations. A lawyer does not work for only one client at a time. While one case is waiting to go to trial or have papers typed, the lawyer can work on another case. If he has enough clients, the lawyer will never be idle for lack of work. (Idle

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1104940002369725812005-01-05T21:13:00.000+05:302005-01-05T21:16:42.370+05:30

My latest dialogue with Webster, my dictionary left me feeling insanely dumb. Get a load of this: Me: What the heck is 'polynesia'? Webster: islands in the eastern part of oceania. Me: Oceania?? Webster: large group of islands including Melanesia and Micronesia. Me: machcha, even your break-it-down is so friggin' complicated! Webster: Melanesia refers to the islands in the southwestern part

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1104861105075471112005-01-04T23:19:00.000+05:302005-01-04T23:21:45.076+05:30

Thats it..its official. As of today,I happen to have absolutely NO PURPOSE IN LIFE. All I've ever lived the latter part of my life for has been taken...for good. Its all one big consipracy theory , I just know it. The apple of my eye, the electrifying but oh-so-elusive prima donna has finally drifted right out of my life. uh huh, thats right. It is the end of the road-reigning era as we know it.

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1104579387988294552005-01-01T17:04:00.000+05:302005-01-01T17:06:27.986+05:30

Every year is getting shorter Never seemed to find the time Plans that either come to nought Or half a page of scribbled lines ...yeah,I do find myself 'hanging on in desparation' quietly enough to tell you that its sure as hell not just the English way! Here I am again, lying in the foreshadow of another year, looking down from the culminating celestial point of Mt.Monotony where people

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1104315438389267112004-12-29T15:43:00.000+05:302004-12-29T15:47:18.390+05:30

....and thus I drift out of oblivion. I think I might've just lost a lab this time around, but it seems so utterly inconsequential compared to the millons who've just lost their sole purposes in life. yeah,the tsunami-induced melancholy just filled me with this crazed emptiness.I really mean it when I make such ironic references. To say this catastrophe has affected all of us in some small way

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1103878432681861172004-12-24T14:08:00.000+05:302004-12-24T14:29:25.280+05:30

Groucho: "Do you like gardinia's?" Woman: "Why Yes I Adore Them. How did you know?" Groucho: "I didn't...so I got you a forget-me-not instead." -A Day At The Races Rufus T. Firefly :"My father was a little Headstrong, my mother was a little Armstong. The Headstrongs married the Armstrongs and thats why donkeys were born." -Duck Soup Chico: "The garbage man is here." Groucho: "Well,

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1103654271669355382004-12-21T22:51:00.000+05:302004-12-22T00:17:41.680+05:30

Here are the answers to that quiz I put up sometime ago...correct ones first followed by the funny ones! Shots on target 1.Metal up your ass 2.Cool Hand Luke 3.Jimi Hendrix 4.Elf 5."Angry Again" 6.Stepphane Wolf,Born to be wild 7.Anti-Christ Devil's Child 8.Geezer Butler,

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1103443965811415752004-12-19T13:41:00.000+05:302004-12-19T13:42:45.813+05:30

ugh...I kinda have the feeling the hot,albeit blabbermouth neighbour auntie saw the 'bottle' from the kitchen window. This agony culminated in the fact that I just realised I have a Microprocessors Lab exam tomorrow! Thats the sad part about happy times...they have this habit of ending. ( yeah,J.D Salinger let me borrow that line! )

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8869484.post-1103443898315856392004-12-19T13:38:00.000+05:302004-12-19T13:41:38.316+05:30

hi-gh humankind, how's it all goin'! ugh...I thought I was sober enough to type...prove me wrong! Home alone for the weekend...feels like heaven! Parents possess some kind of an in-built mechanism or something,ya know...its almost as if they know you're desperately craving for some time...time all for yourself...and some pals maybe. So off they go, on a supposedly religious outing...doing

Manuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15039608701867473058noreply@blogger.com2