Digging for Meaning

its so unreal to read my posts of yore, especially due to my pathetic memory.. (Did I do THAT? Was it like THaT? We were Friends?.. ) So to shake me up in my distant future...(through words...i leave a portal to past! HEavy!!!!), here's a NEWS post..news about me.. answer to all 'wassssuuuuuuppppppppps' s. i am 22 now..done with mech engg.. for good. took gre, got 1460/1600. so am trying to make use of that score by applying to US universities. Though, for MS in advertising/imc. yeah.. advertising/IMC. [amber's reaction to this - but u were doing some automobile designing stuff na?] [natz - :0] [ambya - ohh... whats next?] [piyush - awesome!] well, along with this, we at CultUth had submitted a biz plan at a biz plan competition "eureka-2006" at IITB, and guess what we got selected in the first round! :D Now we will be havin' a mentor's meet on the 10th this month. The biz plan is essentially about better Tshirt designs, and a web portal that would co...

Words flow in my veins down through fingers into the paper. Diffusing a bit, infusing a scent of the moment. The scent thats clouding over this desk is of something else... something i have often felt, but never completely understood; something so much a part of me, that i am oblivious to it for most of the times. The scent is sombre, hot and a bit stiffling, contrasting the cold winds that blow freely these days in Nasik. The scent hangs in this air that i breath, unmoving, with its heavy anchor in my heart. i can feel its weight.. trying to go deeper. (no kiddin') what is it? my brain is screaming with urgency..what is it? I am not happy.I am not sad. why must it always be either or a combination of these? there must be an alternative. Why cant i take a deep breath of reason, and dive into the vast ocean of the 'uber reality'..the conscience..the nature..the counterpart of reason? Ahh..god doesnt let us reach the choiciest gifts so easily.

I use Hutch prepaid. and it sucks. big time. They lutofy u like anything. for instance, since a week i am being charged Rs.2 for every sms..even local ones..which are supposed to be charged at rs 1. And they didnt even intimate me with any changes in the plan. result... i am lutofied with aroud rs 150.. coz like a fool, i went on my usual smsing binge, and only when my recharge ended did i realise that i was being duped. My bad, that i am so stupid to use hutch in the first place. its atrociously expensive too. and inconsistent. its ok to be expensive. but its not ok or tolerable to be inconsistent. withany changes in tariff, the customers should always be intimated. thats never done. instance2: using gprs, i downloaded 13 images. while downloading, nothing was stated on the screen of it being a competition or anything..or of it being a charged service. (and what kind of stupid competition would it be to download some pics?) and i had been billed Rs10 for every image. that too, the am...

Twist & turning, Clawing, My finger’s burning, Drawing. The last mile, Runs for miles and miles, There’s no end to this. Why am I even trying. It’s all dark here, There’s nowhere to go to. All filled thick with nothingness…. All I feel is meaningless… The only sound’s of my, Fingernails against the ground. Or when I turn around, Someone knocks from underground. Those are the long lost echoes, Of the once who stood where I am, Reliving, Retrieving… Tryin’a snatch my soul. Twisting n’ clawing, Their finger’s burning too…..

wasted! ...waste.... total waste.... waste of time... waste of space.. waste of thots (if any) waste of electricity.... its almost like nirvana. exactly what is wasteology, is a tough question to answer. its like asking what is hinduism, christianity, islamism...its a way of life. its a thought culture. it transcends the mere wasted soul and body. it is the embodiment of, the feeling of....being wasted at the core of this culture, there is a basic tenet, which goes against any notion of 'objective'/'purpose' of doing anything. ask urself.. why r u on orkut.. why do we orkut our days away.. talking to strangers, playing stupid games...b'coz.. deep down below, we all know, that we are.. wasted! [:p] p.s. it has nothing to do with being drunk or high on dope.. a most imp. p.s. :its for ppl. who can laugh at themselves, sarcastically look at themselves.. http://www.orkut.com/Community.aspx?cmm=12604788

after quite some deliberation, as to -should i post it, shouldn't i-..i said 'what the heck' --- this is a song i penned in 15 min. b4 the 'Mr.SVMEC' pageant last year, which by the way i won [:D] where i was supposed to play my synth for the talent round.. but @ the last moment its batteries fucked up.. so i had no choice but to turn innovative. I sang this song in a rockin' tune.. had to refer to the piece of paper time n again [/)].. made the crowd sing along.. not much of a genius.. in the sense of lyrics.. but a good rocking song.. Mr. Daniel bedingfield, move over, here i come.. [:D] Bounce Falling down is quite right, and there's nothing wrong with it. But staying down without a trying fight, is not what we speak of a man, so Bounce, Bounce Bounce-Bounce-Bounce Bounce. so Bounce, Bounce Bounce-Bounce-Bounce Bounce. ASk urself what u wanna be, a rotten beggar on the street 23? Ask urself if u never try, would u, ever be, what u could be. so Bounce, Bo...

This blog is to be a repository of my stories. Here's one, a novella in progress. i hope u dig it. Chapter 1 Boroks had an amusing job. They had to give heed to any signs of new 'births'. They would scout the new births, feed them their first supper and help them to stand on their feet. It was the only thing they knew to do. They had big ears, round eyes, strong and long arms, wide and stodgy feet and no teeth. They had a mouth but only to yawn. They lived off 'work'. The faster they would work, the more energetic they would feel. A borok confined is a borok dead. ___________ Ardin & anksha - the gods, who created this world, had a tiff when they started with the creation of life forms. Anksha had created a million different kinds of them. He let them loose and would watch them serenely. Ardin would rather have uniformity and consistence. He wanted them all to be the best (most agile, efficient and adapting), in other words - the same. Being his usual mercurial,...

I haven't posted much after the above less-than-mediocre post. and i can't even give an excuse of lack of time.. probably, my orkut profile defines me more aptly.. wasted. well.. to keep this rolling, i am digging out the old dirt.. this is one of the early poems i tried to scribble. try to fathom it and let me now, how much u hate it.. Forgive me god, for I've not been worthful. The love u gave in me, I 've not been giving out. The mind u gave birth 2, is still holding itself down. The gifts u hid in me, still lay there unpacked, for I am so polluted, I couldn't see the signs. The thought-machine u fuelled, I steer in wrong directions. It still circumnavigates only around the lone sphere of myself. The sum total of neuron's trains still fight over ambiguous destinations. The me within me is so distant, that I need to remember who I think I am. I keep a mirror on my desk, coz' I cant always remember my face. And I wonder at the mirror of ur creation and what...

strange! i am arguably one of the oldest guys here on blogger, and i hadn't cared to write a profile.. well, i fulfilled the 'karma' now, i guess... neways there was this question while filling up the profile.. were u surprised to c ur toes after removing the shoes for the first time?.... my ans. was mortified! i thought the shoe's failed me.. how could they do this to me.. afterall, i had polished them, nicely weaved their laces...and asked for one thing, to take away my toes.. they couldn't even do that.. worthless shoes.. i thought toes were only to scoop out the sand on a beach. but since we moved inland where it was all 'non scoopable' concrete, i saw no reason to have the toes.. ___ hehe .. :)

There's this lil' thread on orkut to create 3 sentence stories. These were 2 of my scribblings. Give it a read... they won't take much time in any case... 1. and the curtain falls... I never thought, today would be it. It always seemed to loom far away, beyond my reach, or anybody else's. I never thought a blade will change it all. *** 2. day of reckoning was near. The only thing keeping me from getting bald with constant hair splitting was the solace I found in her arms. The least I could do was to hold her hands tight while she delivered our baby to the world. ---- [Its amazing how much strenght and love a woman harbours in that fragile lithe body of their's )

Page 2 The sky was a clear, blue, wide expanse of sheer rapture. There was not a cloud in sight. The bright blue of the sky abruptly sprung forth over the insurmountable violet violence of Virat Mountains in the west. The jagged edges of which, diving upwards were, as if, fighting for space. They bore the crimson evidence of their ego. The emerald sparkle of the dense foliage at the foot of Virat, were defiantly beaming, because the sun had long risen over the Virat, and they had plenty of time before they would close down, with the dawn of starry night. These plants had large saucery aperture. Their leaves coalesced in divine surrender to their one god – the sun. The saucers would collect the ‘sundrops’, their staple food, which the sun incessantly spewed out. A white blazing mist stayed afloat over the greenery for most of the day. Between this pool of sundrops, and the thick layer of mist, prickly bolts would spring up. This kept most other insects and animals away from the pool, a...

Its a beautiful day, isn't it? SIBM gives me a call, Girls do too, I am getting a lil' attention over the net due to my stories and stuff, .. and I have nothing to do for a while. COol. So lets patchup the long gap when i wasn't here, with a new story that I am writing. This one, I have put up on a group too, and hopefully this story could grow in a symbiotic way, with varied inputs.. It remains to be seen. But first, have a c at the first page of this 'novella' ... page 1 Boroks had an amusing job. They had to give heed to any signs of new 'births'. They would scout the new births, feed them their first supper and help them to stand on their feet. It was the only thing they knew to do. They had big ears, round eyes, strong and long arms, wide and stodgy feet and no teeth. They had a mouth but only to yawn. They lived off 'work'. The faster they would work, the more energetic they would feel. A borok confined is a borok dead. ___________ Ardin ...