Google: I hate my life...seriosuly ... everyone in the world ..keep digging me ... they fuck my happiness to know what Vivek oberoi is upto... and i have to track some Vivek oberoi and serve them with his info ..and u know wats the worst part..half the time .. he himself keep googling his name ... he cant even keep track of his life ... i need a break
Me : chalo lets go for drink ...
google : where ?
Me: i dont know lets google it
google: fuck you ...
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Friday, November 20, 2009
KANOON KA BADLA
TIME: NOX-BATS INVASION
LOCATION: DREAMYLAND
Still as calm as a child in dreamless slumber...even though suspended from the cosmic consciousness... undistinguished dissonances stave off to perish!! I foresee a judicatory frame-up. The priest of justice attired in black has taken his stance. A fierce smirk bombed with wrath and a stare that weltered my underpants right on…fires a question… “Are you Guilty??”
“GUILTY??…WHO?? ME..?? What have I done milord?”
“You have been ascertained of umpteen infringements against the law of human desires…thence the temple of justice calls for an immediate execution of the accused and thereby shield the society from such an ogre.”
“Ogre???Me??…No…Please Don’t do this to me…I have no clue what is this all about…I don’t eat human flesh…I just had a normal meal last night…Seekh Kabab…Rogan Josh… tandoori chicken…err…!!! It’s a mistake… nooo…”
I am going…going….gooinn…goooo…..guuuu….uuuuu…..Blurred effigies…!!
(Probably Slaughtered)
DHAN TE NAN!!! …… (Phone ring…the Saviour…thanks a lot Shahid!!)
TIME: 6:45 am
LOCATION: HUMANKIND
Coming back to life, I plumped up on one toe and took a close glance in the gigantic mirror and examined every region of my body. Fingers were laid out where they were supposed to be, ornaments remained untouched… (Thank god!!!), no pocks on the face either… SALVAGED!!! It was just another nightmare..!!
A Bad Dream that was. A mental activity that is a gateway to a paranormal or supernatural realm, although researcher claim this articulation to be sleazy and superannuated. Nowadays, hardly anyone believes that dreams are messages from god. However we still cant deny that dreams offer entry to a different universe. A paranormal universe of OUT-OF-BODY EXPERIENCE, cosmic messages and blissful nirvana. I am definitely not a sleep scientist who can provide the technical insights though…through my observance I feel that dreams are a glazed over manifestation of our day-to-day action mechanism.
Whatever we do or wish to do, whatever we think or bid to win, our thought process amasses those fragmentized pieces and runs a blockbuster flick every night. (I am privileged to witness a Matinee-Show as well)…Full of action and full-on drama…I would like to add some overtly intimate panoramas as my dreams are confined within my nous. No wonders I’ve slept over with infinite hotties. ;-)
By now you must have interpreted that I have all the time in this world to write whatever that’s crossing my head. Well…the point is to WRITE…whatever it takes…!!!
So…coming back to my blockbuster (KANOON KA BADLA)… being an analyst by profession I have inculcated a bad habit of getting hitched with each and every weirdest possible problematic or non-problematic situation thrown at me. J (Self adulations)!!!
APPLAUD GUYS
What could have been my thoughts on the preceding day? What can I probably think other than good food and good music? Yah…Chicks I suppose!! (Well that’s beyond coverage area) so the probability climbs up…however if I just recall…the priest of justice (aapna JUJ!!!) called me an Ogre…!! Synonymously…a demon, monster, cannibal…!!
I PROTEST…What for??? I am a good boy… infact a COMPLAN boy. ;-) Why would he need to shield the society from an innocent and adorable chap like me?
Pertaining to the flesh-eating connection, somehow I feel that it has relativity to my eating habits. The investigation is still on…so just hang in there. Well I have my critic at home. My Father, a vegetarian to the bone marrow of vegetarianism, often prophesies the good-king-henry benefits of being a vegetarian. Unbelievable but true… My Grandmother would not step into our home if she comes to know that we cook non-veg at home.
O Teri… the fogginess seems to elucidate now. I remember I was out with my friends last night when I called up home and informed my mom not to wait for me for dinner as I am out in Jama Masjid with my pals and will have dinner there itself. I drooled over AL-JAWAHAR’S delicious and stomach-malicious ROGAN JOSH…an exceptionally orgasmic mughalai cuisine…and the seekh kebabs with khameeri roti can bring love for non-vegetarian food into existence for any XYZ living being…including the four legged species as well.
Quenched to the brim…and adding a final goodbye signature to the get-together with Old Delhi’s famous Banarasi Paan… I reached home before exceeding the IST acceptable norms generally taken care by our caring and over-protective parents.
What better could have I asked for…Father opened the door... I wanted to steal a glance from him and rush straight away to my room for the reasons known to all…but in vain. To my misery I had to be subjected to his fierce smirk bombed with wrath and a stare that weltered my underpants right on!!!
There you go… mystery is unfolded!!! The priest of justice…none other than my DEAREST FATHER!!!
I wish I could make a sequel…KANOON SE BADLA ;-)
LOCATION: DREAMYLAND
Still as calm as a child in dreamless slumber...even though suspended from the cosmic consciousness... undistinguished dissonances stave off to perish!! I foresee a judicatory frame-up. The priest of justice attired in black has taken his stance. A fierce smirk bombed with wrath and a stare that weltered my underpants right on…fires a question… “Are you Guilty??”
“GUILTY??…WHO?? ME..?? What have I done milord?”
“You have been ascertained of umpteen infringements against the law of human desires…thence the temple of justice calls for an immediate execution of the accused and thereby shield the society from such an ogre.”
“Ogre???Me??…No…Please Don’t do this to me…I have no clue what is this all about…I don’t eat human flesh…I just had a normal meal last night…Seekh Kabab…Rogan Josh… tandoori chicken…err…!!! It’s a mistake… nooo…”
I am going…going….gooinn…goooo…..guuuu….uuuuu…..Blurred effigies…!!
(Probably Slaughtered)
DHAN TE NAN!!! …… (Phone ring…the Saviour…thanks a lot Shahid!!)
TIME: 6:45 am
LOCATION: HUMANKIND
Coming back to life, I plumped up on one toe and took a close glance in the gigantic mirror and examined every region of my body. Fingers were laid out where they were supposed to be, ornaments remained untouched… (Thank god!!!), no pocks on the face either… SALVAGED!!! It was just another nightmare..!!
A Bad Dream that was. A mental activity that is a gateway to a paranormal or supernatural realm, although researcher claim this articulation to be sleazy and superannuated. Nowadays, hardly anyone believes that dreams are messages from god. However we still cant deny that dreams offer entry to a different universe. A paranormal universe of OUT-OF-BODY EXPERIENCE, cosmic messages and blissful nirvana. I am definitely not a sleep scientist who can provide the technical insights though…through my observance I feel that dreams are a glazed over manifestation of our day-to-day action mechanism.
Whatever we do or wish to do, whatever we think or bid to win, our thought process amasses those fragmentized pieces and runs a blockbuster flick every night. (I am privileged to witness a Matinee-Show as well)…Full of action and full-on drama…I would like to add some overtly intimate panoramas as my dreams are confined within my nous. No wonders I’ve slept over with infinite hotties. ;-)
By now you must have interpreted that I have all the time in this world to write whatever that’s crossing my head. Well…the point is to WRITE…whatever it takes…!!!
So…coming back to my blockbuster (KANOON KA BADLA)… being an analyst by profession I have inculcated a bad habit of getting hitched with each and every weirdest possible problematic or non-problematic situation thrown at me. J (Self adulations)!!!
APPLAUD GUYS
What could have been my thoughts on the preceding day? What can I probably think other than good food and good music? Yah…Chicks I suppose!! (Well that’s beyond coverage area) so the probability climbs up…however if I just recall…the priest of justice (aapna JUJ!!!) called me an Ogre…!! Synonymously…a demon, monster, cannibal…!!
I PROTEST…What for??? I am a good boy… infact a COMPLAN boy. ;-) Why would he need to shield the society from an innocent and adorable chap like me?
Pertaining to the flesh-eating connection, somehow I feel that it has relativity to my eating habits. The investigation is still on…so just hang in there. Well I have my critic at home. My Father, a vegetarian to the bone marrow of vegetarianism, often prophesies the good-king-henry benefits of being a vegetarian. Unbelievable but true… My Grandmother would not step into our home if she comes to know that we cook non-veg at home.
O Teri… the fogginess seems to elucidate now. I remember I was out with my friends last night when I called up home and informed my mom not to wait for me for dinner as I am out in Jama Masjid with my pals and will have dinner there itself. I drooled over AL-JAWAHAR’S delicious and stomach-malicious ROGAN JOSH…an exceptionally orgasmic mughalai cuisine…and the seekh kebabs with khameeri roti can bring love for non-vegetarian food into existence for any XYZ living being…including the four legged species as well.
Quenched to the brim…and adding a final goodbye signature to the get-together with Old Delhi’s famous Banarasi Paan… I reached home before exceeding the IST acceptable norms generally taken care by our caring and over-protective parents.
What better could have I asked for…Father opened the door... I wanted to steal a glance from him and rush straight away to my room for the reasons known to all…but in vain. To my misery I had to be subjected to his fierce smirk bombed with wrath and a stare that weltered my underpants right on!!!
There you go… mystery is unfolded!!! The priest of justice…none other than my DEAREST FATHER!!!
I wish I could make a sequel…KANOON SE BADLA ;-)
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Awakening
Yet another devolving day…watching it go away with no yield invariably. I am aware things are getting worse with every passing moment however promising persuasions do not bar to creep in. I am still in a state of uncertainty and perplexity of agonizing my final destination. I envision a distorted effigy of my stargaze. I have always wondered how my deadening life is going to transmute into a razzle-dazzle as soon as I enter the Mecca of world sawyers. An institute that would nutrify me with all the supernatural powers to predominate the virtual world and the real world. Just to prompt we are spilling the beans about the acme of management schools…… INDIAN INSTITUTE OF MANAGEMENT, AHEMDABAD.
I am cognizant of my responsibilities that are requisite to execute and live up to my childhood aspiration. I am blessed to be born in a family where everyone is striving to outshine all in a salutary style. I am invigorated to see my parent’s vividness still active and their belief in me and my inherent aptitude that keeps tugging me day after day to chip in all that I can simply to meet one mutual ambition which they were not able to reckon just to make our lives as salubrious as one can always dream of. Notwithstanding all the luxuries at disposal the inquisitiveness to deliver is somehow absent. I keep calling my conscience into question “What else do I call for? Has there been any desire unanswered? Why can’t I raise my self deference in my own eyes? What do I fear? Is it hard work? Or is it the repetitive experiences of failure that is barricading my mortal being to fasten my seatbelt once for all?”
Engrossed with all these unearthly questions I walked towards the metro station undeterred of the ambiguous thought process that kept battering my head back and forth.
Being subjected to Delhi’s population can sometimes induce mixed responses of ruing..wrath and delight at the same time. Yes delight because where ever you go you’ll always be a part of a drop in the bucket. God forbid that day when the entire human explosion (population) gets conglomerated at one place for any xyz reason under the sun. As expected it was a cumbersome ride back home…standing in an awkward ajanta & ellora scriptural posture for 50 minutes in a jam-packed metro bogie with organic structures floating from every nook and corner…and as they say variety is the spice of life…thanks to one of my co-passenger’s spicy luncheon…an uninterrupted replete of intestinal gases blossomed and freshened up the ambience. Though viciously pissed and surreptitious efforts to stay calm and concentrate…another undesirable ride came to an end.
I was still not able to accept that my introspection is shaping my next move. I dialed my sibling’s mobile number for a pick up from the metro station and instantly disconnected it without any second thought. I guess I should spend some more time with myself…I ll rather walk down. Hitting the road and gawking at passing cars and people in it have always awed me. Wearing my heart out on my sleeves I can say that wealth inspires me a lot. They say money can’t buy love…accepted…but today no one loves you genuinely if you don’t have decent enough to endorse yourself. Even I don’t aspire to become a filthy robust sheikh cashing in cargoes of moolah here and there…but yes it has to be plenty enough to roam around the world and drive if not a Bentley then definitely a BMW 7 series. ;-)
Mystified by my sudden impulsion, unknowingly the perspicacious walk of my life began that eventually answered all my questions and bestowed me with a sole motive and also the game plan to make headway. While fleeting along the huge multi-storey posh societies I found my eyes being fixated on a grouchy and avertable thing to which I have always turned a blind eye. Maybe there has always been a guilt of living an overtly nourished and pompous lifestyle, and to escape that guilt these eyes have never cared to see what the ground reality is. I was passing a lousy, foul-smelling and an insalubrious make-shift slum where I could hardly see any infant with minimal cover of fabric to obscure their reproductive organs. I was disgusted and just wished to come about as quick as I can.
All my introspective thoughts about my career options and self-indulgent incitement had faded away right there and all I could imagine was a clean and safe passage from this hell on earth. Midst this cognitive operation my glance fell upon a bunch of semi-naked under-nourished filthy children sitting in a rotary formation, reassembling nothing less than a co-operative constitution holding on to a caboodle of discarded notebooks and books. And to my amazement they were not littering and making that place more messier. They were actually adjudicating to colligate with the vibrancy of the colors depicted on those half torn rotten bulk of threw away sheets. The intensity with which they involved themselves in this so-called process of self-learning blew me apart. The fervor and sprightliness in those eyes to enjoy the learning froze me right on. I could not move ahead. A powerful vibe has just hit me hard and stirred my soul with an impact not less than any seismic disturbance. I could not stop my feet as they started walking towards that over-enthusiastic group of youngsters just to have a more nigh glimpse. A zephyr of embarrassment ran through my veins and I could sense that those unsolved questions have found their answers through a self-examination that I had just undergone. The zeal in those underprivileged children cross questioned me “since you don’t have that readiness in you to see your dreams come true why don’t you let them take your place and fulfill their basic living requirements?”
Completely drenched with disgrace I started walking again. The answers were right in front of me. Distortion began to elucidate. I have a dream but not a vision. I work hard but with a fear to fall by the wayside. I am competent enough to knock off any grandson of Einstein but I am afraid of his grandfather’s name. I know I have to but I won’t.
The choice is always mine.
My inquisitive sensation has solved the biggest question of my life.
It is all within us…we just have to talk it out with ourselves.
Now even if the fate has it to loose, it is worth giving a tough fight. Dreams can only be fulfilled if we live for them and don’t give up till we achieve them.
It was indeed a much needed wake up call.
I am cognizant of my responsibilities that are requisite to execute and live up to my childhood aspiration. I am blessed to be born in a family where everyone is striving to outshine all in a salutary style. I am invigorated to see my parent’s vividness still active and their belief in me and my inherent aptitude that keeps tugging me day after day to chip in all that I can simply to meet one mutual ambition which they were not able to reckon just to make our lives as salubrious as one can always dream of. Notwithstanding all the luxuries at disposal the inquisitiveness to deliver is somehow absent. I keep calling my conscience into question “What else do I call for? Has there been any desire unanswered? Why can’t I raise my self deference in my own eyes? What do I fear? Is it hard work? Or is it the repetitive experiences of failure that is barricading my mortal being to fasten my seatbelt once for all?”
Engrossed with all these unearthly questions I walked towards the metro station undeterred of the ambiguous thought process that kept battering my head back and forth.
Being subjected to Delhi’s population can sometimes induce mixed responses of ruing..wrath and delight at the same time. Yes delight because where ever you go you’ll always be a part of a drop in the bucket. God forbid that day when the entire human explosion (population) gets conglomerated at one place for any xyz reason under the sun. As expected it was a cumbersome ride back home…standing in an awkward ajanta & ellora scriptural posture for 50 minutes in a jam-packed metro bogie with organic structures floating from every nook and corner…and as they say variety is the spice of life…thanks to one of my co-passenger’s spicy luncheon…an uninterrupted replete of intestinal gases blossomed and freshened up the ambience. Though viciously pissed and surreptitious efforts to stay calm and concentrate…another undesirable ride came to an end.
I was still not able to accept that my introspection is shaping my next move. I dialed my sibling’s mobile number for a pick up from the metro station and instantly disconnected it without any second thought. I guess I should spend some more time with myself…I ll rather walk down. Hitting the road and gawking at passing cars and people in it have always awed me. Wearing my heart out on my sleeves I can say that wealth inspires me a lot. They say money can’t buy love…accepted…but today no one loves you genuinely if you don’t have decent enough to endorse yourself. Even I don’t aspire to become a filthy robust sheikh cashing in cargoes of moolah here and there…but yes it has to be plenty enough to roam around the world and drive if not a Bentley then definitely a BMW 7 series. ;-)
Mystified by my sudden impulsion, unknowingly the perspicacious walk of my life began that eventually answered all my questions and bestowed me with a sole motive and also the game plan to make headway. While fleeting along the huge multi-storey posh societies I found my eyes being fixated on a grouchy and avertable thing to which I have always turned a blind eye. Maybe there has always been a guilt of living an overtly nourished and pompous lifestyle, and to escape that guilt these eyes have never cared to see what the ground reality is. I was passing a lousy, foul-smelling and an insalubrious make-shift slum where I could hardly see any infant with minimal cover of fabric to obscure their reproductive organs. I was disgusted and just wished to come about as quick as I can.
All my introspective thoughts about my career options and self-indulgent incitement had faded away right there and all I could imagine was a clean and safe passage from this hell on earth. Midst this cognitive operation my glance fell upon a bunch of semi-naked under-nourished filthy children sitting in a rotary formation, reassembling nothing less than a co-operative constitution holding on to a caboodle of discarded notebooks and books. And to my amazement they were not littering and making that place more messier. They were actually adjudicating to colligate with the vibrancy of the colors depicted on those half torn rotten bulk of threw away sheets. The intensity with which they involved themselves in this so-called process of self-learning blew me apart. The fervor and sprightliness in those eyes to enjoy the learning froze me right on. I could not move ahead. A powerful vibe has just hit me hard and stirred my soul with an impact not less than any seismic disturbance. I could not stop my feet as they started walking towards that over-enthusiastic group of youngsters just to have a more nigh glimpse. A zephyr of embarrassment ran through my veins and I could sense that those unsolved questions have found their answers through a self-examination that I had just undergone. The zeal in those underprivileged children cross questioned me “since you don’t have that readiness in you to see your dreams come true why don’t you let them take your place and fulfill their basic living requirements?”
Completely drenched with disgrace I started walking again. The answers were right in front of me. Distortion began to elucidate. I have a dream but not a vision. I work hard but with a fear to fall by the wayside. I am competent enough to knock off any grandson of Einstein but I am afraid of his grandfather’s name. I know I have to but I won’t.
The choice is always mine.
My inquisitive sensation has solved the biggest question of my life.
It is all within us…we just have to talk it out with ourselves.
Now even if the fate has it to loose, it is worth giving a tough fight. Dreams can only be fulfilled if we live for them and don’t give up till we achieve them.
It was indeed a much needed wake up call.
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