all the world s a stage

it is high time i decided on my favorite movie. most of my cinematically illiterate wingies n other friends (not that i m any tarantino with years of viewing experience) watch the hopeless indian cinema so ardently that it has penetrated so deep in their neurons that they find it hard to try something new and they have been giving the same reason since biblical times tht bollywood movies can be watched jst for fun, the fun part of course seems to elude me everytime i try to sit through the epic dramas.
deciding a single movie as a favorite one is an impossible thing for me. so i have one for each category. the departed the all time thriller champ. scorsese at his best. the pace goes undetected and so does the as usual effortless acting from jack nicholson . and the stupid audience is left scratching the heads at the end when dignum turns out to be just another rat. the departed was a remake of a chinese movie but a classics example of how every scene canbe recreated and still be so new or rather captivating, not like any other sohail khan movie in which every scene is made by the cut-copy-paste process.
pursuit of happyness claims the top spot in your rags to riches or distress to glee category. the bond potrayed by the smith junior and smith senior makes me cry every time i watch it. chris gardener says to his son-dont ever let anybody tell u that u cannot do something. if u gotta dream u gotto protect it.period. simply awesome!!
robert de niro makes taxi driver mesmerizing. the best acting u can ever get. the scene where he looks in the mirror and says - u talking to me? thts the upper cut for every actor. no one can even come close to tht. i want to write sthing about pulp fiction but my words cant even glorify tarantino's efforts.
happy movie watching!!

choose or lose

sadness grips you by surprise. a simple phone call or just another memory can upset anyone in great amount. one moment you are busy in your mundane activities and the next moment you are deep down your favorite hell hole. then starts the emerging from the grief stage. psychologists say grief/sadness can be divided into five stages . first one is getting isolated and secluded from others. this one is my favorite. on some angry thought you can hold the whole universe as responsible. lyrics of every random slow song sound so perfect and just meant for that sad moment. the rants of the wingies seem so hollow and pointless. i avoid the 'gen' discussions which run late into nights and where we have been talking about the same topics for over an year now. every one is familiar around here. there is actually no sense of unpredictability. thats one disappointing factor of knowing some ppl inside out. u can sense their tones, read their minds, tell what kind of not so uncanny humor is gonna result in the sheer time wasting discussions. nothing learned, nothing gained, no valuable inter cultural, inter religious enriching thoughts exchanged. thats just a sad typical bitsian day point of view.
on any other day when you manage not to wake up on the wrong side of the bed, all those flaneur wingies of yours turn into the ppl with whom you have had the most fun with. but the point is what should we choose?
happy, no tension lives where maybe you dont learn nything but have a good time. maybe i m being too negative. there might be a changing outlook towards life but tht comes with every experience of life. one plus point about this lifestyle is tht u never run out of activity partners which for me is a necessity. i dont know y but i think it is a heriditary thing, my bro also being a victim of it. i need a partner for every meal, i need some one to grace the occasion when i devour the combo of a fruit chat, a samosa and a special chai. maybe i m not a loner. but every partner comes at a cost. u have to be alert for any walking noises in the wing during the prime times and of course one has to swallow gaalis if the future partner is reluctantly sleeping.
as u can see this post has already reached the same depths of boredom as my monotonous life.
so as i drown my wasteful life in the colors of black humor i wish i make the right choice and hope i do it some time soon.
----if u want to listen to an asshole just fart.

stupified

day-t20 final..humidity-98%
temperature increasing with everyone perspiring and a record number of swearing in the audi. every1 forgets abt the monotonous test schedule and all hell breaks lose in audi. 4000 ppl screamin on a 8mm thick screen. hmm. not a pleasant site for n.v.m. or his brethren or for any silent guy for that sake. it was my first such experience. must admit that i had a rather nice time. though i blatantly hate the cricket hoopla but how can u decline the chance to scream and scream some more and help yourself to a breezer from the frustration of the uneventful life. let me help u to a quick glance at some of the uneventful events.
scriptus got through the first round of epsilon. i hope to work hard on this 1 and see it through this time. test series 1 finally ended after seemingly endless nite outs. now the dreadful results will turn out and turn our peaceful minds into battlefields of emotions. here s a typical conversation with any 1 at the redhi or anc. (--) r thoughts.
self-abey e.s. ke marks mile??
supposedly friend-hmm.
self-kitne?
supposedly friend-40.(tht would be av+ many).
self-phoda be (shit man. how the hell can u get tht much when i studied the same as u).
supposedly friend-tere?
self-30
supposedly friend-good yaar.(haha- eat shit !!! i got more than you.)
self-your A is fixed man! (screw u . i bet u ll make a B.)
and this doesnt jst happen with me. every1 is trying hard to be the nice guy, the modest guy. but u can always see that tiny twinkle in the eye if the guy has the upper edge in the game.
same is the condition on the nite before exam. every1 s tries hard to praise every1 else. hoping tht some 1 will fall in the trap and step up on the cloud of pride and hav a grand humpty dumpty fall.
if u observe closely u can actually watch the false hopes, feel the pride being shattered and then rebuilt, the hatred surrounding you. then u realize tht every second person isnt as cool, fun loving,easy to go with guy as his orkut profile says.
but still thts wt we say.life s cool..

daily measurement techniques

so the new semester started rather boringly or should i say disappointingly with all my fury wrecking the ammeter, then a rheostat and then another gargantuan device with which 1 is is supposed to see the miraculous rings which mr. newton dicovered on another one of his casual random mornings. i struggle to get up by 10 so tht i can relish those free 3 marks of cp-2 which i know will be the tie-breakers between b and c (yeah a's r mission impossible for me). but no!! my necessary 7 hrs turns into a sweet siesta. this might jst work as a pantomime for me in the future.i wake up at 2 40 pm rush towards 3143 or is it 3243 . where is it. where is it. fd's r still pretty much a labyrinth for me. where i hav to look up again n again on for signs.
i enter into the cursed laboratory with the lab assistants giving me a cold but indifferent glance and i wonder whether even a metallica performance rt there rt then would b enough to inject some bloody passion and remove their drudgery. i join my team which is raring to perform the nxt expt. their excitement was comparable to tht of columbus who had got funding for his indian expedition. i was as usual pondering over the thought tht these expts would b of no use wt so ever in my future life . i take one of their lab reports and hurriedly draw the graphs with utter imperfection. our mam turns up and starts picking the endless anomalies in my report. "how many kind of emissions r there"she asks sotto voce. i mumble nothings and pratik comes to my rescue. ironically he gets 18 while i get 19. i keep on nodding to everything she says though i m not even listening coz i m plugged in.
on my return journey i have the usual samchat and masala shikanji. by the way redhiwala hugged me when i came back to pilani. i felt pretty much like his distant relative . afterall i was one of his favorite grahaks. then comes the latest passion in my life-hockey. i persuaded the nigger to join me in my mission to at least make into the bunch of extras. our ruthless staminas are soon exposed but we keep on trying. after dinner its sitcom time. there s some missing h wing. but its covered up by trying to make anuj (my sidie) understand the rafoo mentality which he (being a moneybags) will need to adjust between us typical dirty yellow fellas. he gives his dumb lectures on his breed supremacy and shares his stand on the figments of pigments tht trouble his mind. he is a racist. hates gults. abhishek looks like a rickshaw-wala in a dd1 advertisement in need of b-12 vitamins. vns is his usual self with his high decibel levels. nigger touches the edges of paranoia with ramblings on the recent disasters in wsc n cel.
life s back to normal and normal sucks big time.

an alibi

my march onto a fructuous future has been delayed since prehistoric times by my inability to set my priorties. when we dont wanna do things we ll find a thousand reasons not to do it, but where will u find tht strong self discipline to control ur wavering mind against the strong undercurrents of modern society's intruiging life style activities which my mind is never satiated from. these very lucrative n rather conspicuous desires tht disrupt one's focus r far too powerful and r owerpowering the human psyche. there seems to be no beowulf around for these grendels. our self conscience is waging a lost battle against the fancy world imploding with a slew of gizmos, mouth watering pizzas, raunchy videos,hiphop beats and the list can go on. all these things have the grandest arsenal of all at their disposal and tht is their appeal, their persuasive power to which the youth falls easily.
what makes me wonder whether i am trodding the right path are images from my past which at times come rushing back to me.
i was in 6th standard. i had jst persuaded my mom tht it was high time tht she allowed me to paddle my way to school. on one of the many sweltering afternoons as i was returning back from school along with one of my friends, we decided to take a break and have a coke. so we took a detour and stopped at a shop and while we were having our drinks a lady also came to the shop. she was a middle aged lady carrying a very heavy bag walking around in 45 degrees while we were enjoying our cold drinks. as she was walking by us, she looked at us and at the condensed drops of water on the bottles which seemed to be ironically identical to the sweat on her forehead, she paused. after much thought she turned toward the shop. i looked at her constantly. she looked quite weary. asked me wt was the price of the drink i was holding. 10 i answered .i can still tell how pensive she looked. then she enquired the shopkeeper abt the 5 rs bottles and he said the smaller ones for 6 to which she sharply replied tht amir khan says they r for 5 on television. the shopkeeper told her tht they r still to change the price. she looked at us. i was feeling rather guilty. no doubt she had spoiled my well deserved break. i still couldnt make out wt was is in her bag. after spending some tense moments she asked the shopkeeper whehter he would like a bottle of phenyl. he responded negatively. in one powerful thrust she lifted the bag. each one of us was in a different mood.the shopkeeper cursing her for the alleged dramatics. she left the shop cursing amir khan. i was left high n dry wondering whether to complete my drink or to be soaked in a feeling of guilt and call back the woman and offer to buy her a drink. i decided to call poverty a matter of fates.
till date i m still wondering what should i have done? is it always a matter of fates or is there something for us which might help us win the battle . i think tht fate and destiny are an alibi
a fancy way of denying and distracting us from wts happening now.

frm my scratchpad

u gotta do wt ya gotta do-

i write bcoz i wanna . u rnt actualy entitled to read this stuff but if u really want to be my guest . but i must warn u tht i m jst a novice , not tht good as a blogger. nor do i have the gift of gab. but still i try to xpress my feelings. nd ofcourse i really want to blog more n more these days . i hav also started to read more.
so i ll jst write wt ever comes to my mind . the next sentence might not even relate to the previous 1. but its not for u . its for me.
i read blink, the google story and m currently devouring made in japan and the life of pie.
i found blink really boring,its abt how snap judgements r the better 1's and left it half way but still u might jst see it on my orkut profile like many other "classics" like the monk who sold his ferrari and the alchemist which were such a pain in the ass. but wt do u know. orkut like many other things is an ego-machine and things like these r the pumping gasoline.
never trust governments. thts 1 lesson learnt.
joseph mengele-the angel of death for the jews in the concentration camps held by nazis
4.5 lakh died in darfur, sudan over the las t 4 yrs
though the govt says it was only 9000 wt a shame.
only 26 phd's came frm the computer science section from the whole of india. where u can find a myriad colleges. colleges springing out of almost every nook n corner of this nation with filthy politics. when i say filthy i mean filthy coz this is a nation which is now ruled by mob. the politics of this naiton is now under the 6th phase according to aristotle . ill surely xplain the cycle to u . i ll hav to google mysef first coz things tend to slip out of my memory unless ofcourse they relate to pecuniary issues. this is a nation where the patriotism is felt only when the coffers of media barons have to b filled by voting for taj which by my way does not even qualify for the 21 list set for voting. firstly it isnt a marverllous structure as we all think it to b.
secondly, the emperor didnt build it on his own wish. not so much for love. his dying wife actually told him to do so. then ofcourse he lavishly spent away millions to idle away his time bored from the mujras and his other 9 wives . yeah i think his other wives must also have died by then. then comes the issue of slavery . he made the great monument of "love" by making slaves and finally chopping of so many hands as another sign of the mughal generousity.

me and my fake world

hi
u have visited this blog mayb jst to check it out, mayb u could know somethin abt me.
but i bet u dont know nothin abt urself. no one does. we all r here wasting our lives. day after day we do it. y cant we all b just natural? mayb some of u r natural but then i m talkin abt the rest of us .ok.y r we always striving to impress others. always dreaming abt all the good things tht should happen to us.
we can never find bliss in such pathetic way of living. god created us. and we created him. then we lost him. i think the only good thing we can do is b religious.
but tht is the toughest thing in the world. but i hardly think readin this blog helped u in any way.
so thnx for wasting ur valuale time .
fake on!!