Unspoken Verses

Hey all, So first and foremost, Merry Christmas and a Happy New year to all of you. For the past one month of my blogging break, life has been as close to perfection, as it has been in many years. You see, I went on this long overdue family vacation to Singapore and Malaysia. I spent the night at Nanyang Technological University , with my *super awesome* school friends - (the ones studyin in NTU). I bought a core I7 laptop - my first yet. And then I came back to Delhi . I've been meeting my friends practically everyday ever since. I went to two birthday parties. I even met one of my exes - I should start callin her a normal friend instead of that tho now. In anycase, I don't have a lot to say right now. So I'll leave you with a few pictures instead. The twin Towers A Chinese temple in Malysia A Chinese Temple in Singapore The Coke vending machine in the temple. :P The Statue of Liberty? A Good Night to you, and to you a Merry Christmas 2010 - You were awesome to me. Spec

[Here's a test if you wanna try] [Read about it here] INTJ - (mine) To outsiders, INTJs may appear to project an aura of "definiteness", of self-confidence. This self-confidence, sometimes mistaken for simple arrogance by the less decisive, is actually of a very specific rather than a general nature; its source lies in the specialized knowledge systems that most INTJs start building at an early age. When it comes to their own areas of expertise -- and INTJs can have several -- they will be able to tell you almost immediately whether or not they can help you, and if so, how. INTJs know what they know, and perhaps still more importantly, they know what they don't know. INTJs are perfectionists, with a seemingly endless capacity for improving upon anything that takes their interest. What prevents them from becoming chronically bogged down in this pursuit of perfection is the pragmatism so characteristic of the type: INTJs apply (often ruthlessly) the criterion "Does

If you have integrity, nothing else matters. If you don't have integrity, nothing else matters. - Alan K. Simpson You know, at the end of the day, you really learn a lot more from failure than you do from success. Its simple. When you find a method that doesn't work, you start searching for one that does. On the way you gain an understanding of how things work. You observe your actions and their consequences - disattached from both, and with a lot more objectivity. You understand that the failure won't define you. You learn to respect both success as well as failure, and you learn to fear neither. If you go deeper, you might even realise that success is, but a word. That when you weren't looking deep enough, it was something big, but when you did, you realised that (in the general sense of the word as used by the society) its just society appreciation. So while to one person, success maybe appreciation from the society, to another, it could just be a sense of satisfac

One of my physics teachers, once said - about mathematics - "Maths is a very illogical subject. Its all theory, and doesn't make much real sense. Its only useful as a tool for solving physics etc." And I couldn't agree more. I was good at physics and sucked at maths. I mean seriously. In all of maths whenever 1 has been raised to any power, big or small, positive or negative, whole number or fraction, it has always consistently and diligently returned 1 as the answer. And yet somehow, 1 raised to power infinity is not defined. Imaginary numbers - some hyperenthusiastic maths guy probably realised, "root of negative 1 doesn't exist eh?...hmm ah well, i'll pretend it does and write a shitload of theory on it." Then coming to geometry- "2 imaginary lines may have a real point of intersection." - I mean seriously, are you kiddin me? Aren't the lines imaginary? And then I realised that the flaw lies in our perception of logic. Noth

Let Set A = the kind of girls I find physically attractive. (essentially exuded persona, apart from general appeal) and Set B = the kind of girls I find mentally attractive. (essentially ability to have interesting/intelligent/funny conversation or generally smart opinions and insights) Then, the kind of girl I would now like to date = Set (A ∩ B) or maybe set(A ∩ B)=Angelina Jolie?

Right now, I'm sitting in a bus, (Volvo - to be precise) heading away from the city of shining lights. The book I intended to read, lies in my bag, which I had earlier decided to carry as hand baggage, but which now lies along with the other checked in baggage. My oh-so-dear headphones are not with me, as they have gone for repair. When I reach college, I'll probably have to resort to my ipod for music, which is sad, only cuz my ipod headphones are somewhat damaged, and as of now, I'm usin very basic phillips ones, which just don't cut it. Plus the music on the pod is a lil old. But anyway, I'm basically looking at a 5 hour long journey, with no music, no book, no window seat, and pretty much nothin else. *** My train reached at bout 11 pm. We took our luggage, hired a coolie and reached our respective cars. Dad took me on a drive through Delhi. I've always loved late night drives in Delhi. Maybe a lil because the dark hides the dirt. Long stretched roads under

Delhi is beautiful right now. One thing about Delhi, that I've always loved, are the late night drives. *** So we'd called up an autowallah from the campus, to take 5 people to the railway station. He turned up in a tiny auto which would have just about managed to fit 3 people. Maybe he thought, "[nothing]" when I told him to bring an auto for 5 people to the railway station. So not only does he think "[nothing]" when I ask him for an auto for 5 people to the railway station, he also has the balls to go ahead and support his thoughts, by claiming that 5 people could fit into the auto, had it not been for the luggage. Me: We asked you for an auto for five people, to the railway station. WHY would there be no luggage. Him: I dunno... this auto could fit five people, its just the luggage thats the problem. Me: No, there are just 3 seats there. And WHY would there be no luggage? Him: But the other 2 could adjust on that rail bar over there.. its just the luggag

He stood there. Naked. Head down, arms on the chest. And waited. For those white icicle shards to tear him, as he knew they would. For aeons, hesitant, he stood. Mustering up his will. And he finally turned the knob, anticipating the chill. And it came, almost as if to kill. Long, thin, sharp, cold and white, straight for the chest. And just one single thought dominated his head. When will the freaking geysers start working? *** The other solution, which most people have used is to stop bathing.

5th September Okay, right now, I'm sitting in an english class, and dying a little inside, as I learn about subject-verb agreement. I've always believed learning rules in a language like english, which as it is doesn't adhere to any logic is rather futile. So we all speak according to what sounds right, right? And doing that, I discovered that I'm wrong in my usage sometimes. So I'm gonna go ahead and post this question to all you guys. The captain as well as the players ___ happy. The players as well as the captain ___ happy. Fill in the blanks with is or are, whatever you deem correct. (Leave a comment)

He stared up at the ceiling of his coffin. There were bricks on his chest. No wonder it was so hard to get up. He closed his eyes some more. Darkness. Comforting and stable. He opened his eyes and with a summon of strength, removed the quilt from his body. Sitting up on his bed, he looked past the dingy walls of his room and peered into the mirror ahead. They called him Wolverine. A nickname coined because of his hair, beard and a largely serious demeanour. He stared at the image in the mirror. Lately, the scars had stopped healing. Must be the cold ... He looked at his knuckles. The holes where the claws had retracted, still visible ... He went and stood in front of the mirror and folded his arms to his chest, with his knuckles facing inwards. His claws shot out. Followed by blood. He retracted. There was pain, but what was more profound, and even enjoyable was the adrenaline. The strong rush of adrenaline. He observed as his body washed out all other thoughts from his head, focussing

So I've spent bout 3 weeks in this college now, and I figure its bout time for me to write a little bout it. I'm gonna be the sadistic mock that I am in general, and describe characters by writing sentences that those particular people are likely to say (not). Please do understand that I exaggerate for fun. Director : Hello all you lovely people. I know I smile a lot and sound really polite and nice, but please do not miss the obvious sarcasm dripping from my voice. I also love to remind you that if there's something that I want you to do, and you don't wanna do it, then you still have the option of withdrawing your admission from this college. I will do all in my power to help you get back a fair sum of your fees money. In short, all you awesome people, I hate humanity. 100 yr old maths teacher who's got the-most-freakishly-impressive-CV : *mumble mumble in my mouth* Physics mechanics teacher : I really wanna go home. :'( I mug up stuff and puke it here. 2nd y

I'm a mad man. I swear to God I'm crazy. Honestly. Right now I'm talking specifically relationships wise, although that statement would probably hold true in many other scenarios too! So to start off, I'm a commitment phobe. But I'm not your normal kind of commitment phobe - the ones who are afraid of being tied down to a single person for an incredibly long time - nope, I'm not that. I'm commitment phobic cuz my mind, which is rather smart (and basically practical) knows that almost no relationship at this age will actually last through and I hate the ending part, so I'm actually a commitment phobe cuz I hate break ups. Sweet innit? ( But this is valid, only until the time that I haven't gotten into a relationship. After I get into one, I'm a girl. I also exaggerate a million times.) Now, if I hate break ups, I must tend to not let go of a relationship after a break up right? Like I must be the kind who tries to hold on? Right.. Except that'

“I have a feeling that you’re riding for some kind of a terrible, terrible fall. But I don’t honestly know what kind… Are you listening to me?” “Yes.” “It might be the kind where, at the age of thirty, you sit in some bar hating everyone who comes in looking as if he might have played football in college. Then again, you might pick up just enough education to hate people who say, ‘It’s a secret between he and I.’ Or you may end up in some business office, throwing paper-clips at the nearest stenographer. I just don’t know. But do you know what I’m driving at, at all?” "...This fall I think you're riding for --it's a special kind of fall, a horrible kind.The man isn't permitted to feel or hear himself hit bottom. He just keeps falling and falling. The whole arrangement's designed for men who, at some time or other in their lives, were looking for something their own environment couldn't supply them with. Or they thought their own environment couldn't supply

Children, though usually bugging are rather interestingly cute sometimes. Here are a few episodes that deserve a mention. Venue: Kota. Child: Landlord's grandkid. [I've come back from my class, and I'm climbing up the stairs. As I pass the middle floor, which is the landlord's living place, I see the Landlord's grandchild, about 4-5 yrs old, and looking up at me, as I pass. I smile at him, as he continues chewing the food, that his mother is probably feeding to him. I reach my room, open it and realize that I'd left something downstairs. I lose the bag, and go down. On my way down, the child is not there, as he's probably gone to get his next bite of the food from his mother. After finding whatever it was I had left behind, I start climbing the stairs, and again as I pass the middle floor, the child is there.] Kid: *Astonished* I JUST saw you go up!!!! Me: Yeah? .. Nice! Kid: There are TWO of you!!!! :O Me: Are you sure? Maybe I came back down when you weren

Hello everyone. I'm gonna talk about poems today. So there are a few types of poetry: Type 1 “Poetry is like the glittering pink ocean. It sounds beautiful and delectable, but you really have no idea what is going on. I mean, glittering pink ocean? WTF?” ~ Lord Byron on poetry [ source ] This is the kind of poetry that mostly everyone admires. Its key features are: 1. Use of big fancy words. 2. The lack of clarity of thought and hence the profound presence of vagueness. 3. The lack of the intention to actually say anything at all, as long as you get to say anything. This kind of poetry is famous, mostly because noone really knows what the hell is up, and they wouldn't be caught dead admitting it, so they make up their own version of what the poet is tryin to say it leaves so much for personal interpretation, that the perception of what the poetry is about is left entirely up to the reader. Generic poetry is perhaps one of the most common forms of modern poetry. Much of it cons

She was cryin to me Probably trying to seek A lil peace from me To calm her heart Pierced by the darts That were constantly being fired By all that was around her In my head, I just admired Her, for that ability to care About all who were there Even when life seemed to be So far from being fair Even when the people didn't seem To really even care And then this one time Even I really cared I wished I could make Things a lil more fair But all I did, Was tell her, it'd pass That she'd soon rid, Herself of this despair And with her I dared About her, I cared And then to face my life To win this strife, I once again stopped to care.

I think I'm really starting to figure myself out a bit. Rather unfortunate. On a completely different note, here's a video that everyone needs to see. Chances are I will have told you about it, so if I haven't DO check it out.

So I hate lies. Even fibs. As a result to be able to do what other mortals do with the help of lies(AKA, save their ass), I perfected another art. That of finding technical loop holes. Everything you say is open to my interpretation within the bounds of reasonable assumptions, and everything I say is open to your interpretation. Its not my fault if you do not interpret my thought correctly. The main trick to this lies in being incredibly vague, non-committal, and therefore unaccountable. Here are a few ways in which you can achieve the above: Always keep adding an I guess at the end of every sentence in your conversation... I guess. Thereby it is a clear indication, that what you say is only your interpretation of the scenario, and that you can basically not be held accountable for any of the negative out comes of the mentioned situation. Man created a brilliant escape-device for words and situations. Its greatness lies in 2 things: - its versatility of usage, and its simplicity. Wha

[I'm watching tv, and mom wants to watch it] Mom: Gimme the remote! Me: Later, I'm watching somethin.. Mom: What're you watchin? Me: ... Mom: Is that Hannah Montana ? Me:... Mom: I have a friend whose 12 yr old daughter is a big fan of her. *smirks and walks out of the room* Me: ... :S

So i obviously wasn't listening to my friend properly when he was mouthin - with sound (and therefore simply sayin) the words "Java SUCKS" to me. Although, mostly it was from the perspective of a programmer, but I now have 1st hand experience of its validity for a consumer too. Atleast Sony Ericsson's Java ME platform for sure. So I was looking for a phone with a 3.2mpx camera, and WiFi or Wlan support. With the WiFi access, and using a VoIP (Voice over internet protocol) software, like fring , I figured I'd be able to make international calls and the like over the internet at practically throw away prices. And phone to computer calls would even be free usin the wi fi at home. Obviously all u'd need is the software to be compatible with the phone, n the phone to have the capability to access wi fi. So I circled down to 2 phones. The Nokia 5800 Xpress music , and the SE W705 . I didn wanna go much above 10k; the price of the nokia was 13.3k n that of the SE

He looked up at the dark sky as the stars shone. He needed some heat to clear the cold in his bones. Those are suns too, he knew. And the moon reflected the sun too. And so he decided to have his spirit renewed- What else could he do? There's not really a God over you. And to couple that spirit with hope, That maybe someday he would swing the rope. [Dear Diary 1]

He has neither the strength to fight Nor the guts to take away his life All he sees is the dark, so black and deep And failure, so stark and steep He holds back but at times he weeps, Cuz his spirit is completely broke He can't take no more Its all far too gore. [Dear Diary 2]

Welcome to my fairly-long-pendin formal welcome address. Basically, I had planned to do a nice Venez-à-Delhi formal welcome address, 1st post after the End Kota series(which reminds me, I think all u people's countin must suck cuz no one seems to have brought up the fact that there's no end kota part 2 post there. OR you're convinced that on the planet I hail from, the no. ''2'' rhymed way too much with "foo", n since that isn't a real word, they decided to get rid of 2 too. Plus two words soundin like too/two were way too many twos, right? I wonder if you realise that does not make any sense!? Why would u think stuff like that?) But then (go scroll back up to see the stuff before the bracket)really important n strange stuff happened( the hair cut , and JEE ), and the welcome address got left behind somewhere. Nevertheless, here I am with my welcome address. So Delhi, I suppose was over-the-top excited bout me returning, cuz its welcome was to

He sits there satisfied With what, I know not He stares back smiling, His time whiling Is he really stupidly dumb? His mind uselessly numb? Does he not understand the consequences of inaction? Or are the wheels of his brain just facing too much traction? If the latter, Then from what, I know not. An idiot in my head is all I got. I'd sent him to difficulty as I sought Something better from him, an achiever maybe But all I found was a stupid baby Lacking self control in food in study, Walkin towards waters dark and muddy. I wish I could merge with him, To understand that brain so dim. Or maybe there's nothing to comprehend, Without his brain, he just got sent here.

Ear phones in my head I sit down on the bed And put on my runnin shoes Neither tight nor too loose And i climb down the stairs To the street no one cares Where I go where I reach What I learn what I teach I am unaware And I dun even care What path I'll follow Cuz the feet work solo Got a mind to themselves Superficial doesn't delve Like the one in my head Its black and its red Its blue and its green Its nice and its mean But right now it jus wants Some adrenaline And the beat starts to play Its the end of the day And the body falls in To some rhythming And i start , do my jog Darkness is my fog I pick up a pace And a beat starts to race Its the one in my heart It speeds up like a dart And it starts to provide Some air to my hide And my feet n my hands And my lungs expand As i gain momentum All the world feels numb My heart starts to pump Adrenaline to the blood Feet splash in the mud And my body gets tired And my head is higher And i keep pushin on Darkness and a song And the a

Hello there. Its been quite sometime now since a proper post. I wonder if I even remember how its done. Now that would be tough if only there was anything to it right? Technically, "asdjhqowie" would qualify as a post. Not an interesting one, or even comprehensible for that matter.. or any adjective other than rubbish, crap or WTF?!? (which isn't really an adjective, but it still describes stuff I suppose, so lets ignore that for now.) [**pssst - I conveniently left out the implications the word 'proper' may have had.] But well, whatever. So anyway, I just gave my IIT paper yesterday. Before the 1st paper, I was awesomely relaxed, cool and positive, which was a bit mad at a level, cuz I'd so totally ruined my life for Mr.Judgement Day here, and the least I could do was feel apprehensive and tensed, and NO, it wasn't the confidence in my preparation. It was more of that strange peace n disattachment I seem to feel when strong emotions are required. And t

1st - I will be undertaking a sacrifice SO big, that its like REALLY BIG. :O I'll be gettin my 6-month-long-hair cut today; The photos on the entrance forms had short hair. IIT better give itself to me on its own now. Or else... (I'll feel awful I suppose. Not like I can do anythin if it doesn't) 2nd - I'll be shifting my blog to a new URL. Now I believe, that I personally know all my readers, so I'll give you guys the new address. But for the tiny possibility that there's someone I dunno who reads this blog, just leave me a comment, I'll get back to you on it.

22nd Feb 2010 Right now, i'm travellin back home at about 100kmph. There are stretches of grass covered land for as far as the eye can see, on both my sides, and an occasional truck or advertising board zippin by. Kota seems distant now, which is rather suprisin, it jus feels unreal. N in a strange way, i guess i'll miss it. I mean its fair why they say there's no price to freedom. :P Remember how i'd talked bout my pride at not-carin-how-i-look was unfounded? Wel i now don't care how i look at a whole new level. It probably started with bein perceived strange for wearin shorts. It led to apathy for others' perception at a nicely new magnitude. As of now, my hair is unruly, wild, long, n crazily curly. N I have a fairly dense beard. My parents have been naggin me to get them cut.( Thats kinda when I really started cherishin my far left behind solitude) :P Neway, jokes apart, I think at the end, I really do seem to like Kota-the adventurous experience . If only

The following is an extract from the random un post-able blog posts that i often write for no apparent reason. I'm actually gonna go ahead and post this one, to express my freedom to write absolute crap on this blog, as its MY blog. *sadistic smile* :) *sadistic smile* Someday in the remote past, that i dun recall: Argh! ... M like SO bored, got a test day after, homework to do for tomorrow, but you know, jus this weird exhaustion from like stuff. Oh & its like fun bein vague(speakin of which, I think my bar for what qualifies as fun has been lowered abysmally. It now includes lighting matchsticks, starin at lizards, hitting random stuff wid newspaper folds & writin just about anythin that comes to mind, although I wonder if I am havin fun right now ... Well its somethin of a way to kill time really, neway) yeah, so yeah ... I just wanted to point out to you the fact that I haven't posted anythin in a while. (that it may be obvious never crossed my mind. Wel, it did, b

I'm a few days away frm the sea shore now. And this is among my last few posts. So reflectin back, I'll make an attempt to condense many thoughts into words... which appears a seemingly impossible feat right now - but then so did what I did. The following will be posts that I never got around to postin for reasons I don't recall. Some maybe abruptly incomplete, some may lack flow, n some may not even say anything at all. So i'd like to say, What the hell does it matter anyway? Now since my feedback bout the ppl here comes off as excessively negative, let me write bout some of the things they are pretty cool at. Given they are fairly intelligent, they are also pretty funny. Like in classes, a trademark thing that everyone does is shout maaro maaro, todo, kaato ( burn thrash destroy - stuff an angry mob wud shout) for simple tiny randomly trashy things. Like - if some guy's enterin the class a bit late, or the marker stops workin, or while some guy's askin a dou

Heylo. So I am kinda not sure if i'm feelin sarcastic enough to do a blog post but I'm gonna give it a try. I realised I haven't enlightened you about the traffic rules guidelines here. Now I know, hailing from Delhi, I dun exactly have the right to be commentin about the traffic here. But incase u didn notice, I did not create that traffic right? I'm not responsible for it. N some of what I'm about to say may even (or may not - I'm not sure which, cuz wel, I'm not sure bout what I'm gonna say. I make it up as I go along. Its my favourite kind. I've already told ya I'm not a planner remember?) apply to Delhi (isn it like buggin when there is so much stuff in the bracketts that you forget what the real issue was?) So yea. We were talkin bout the traffic guidelines . A red light implies, that if u really dun mind stoppin, please do? I mean I know the long road ahead, the roar(or coughin pretty often) of your engine n the black fume sputterin ve

So i'm generally pretty happy these days n all, like whether its because my days here are comin to an end, or whether because the cat drank my milk-the joy of feedin a hungry animal(and scarin it away when you find out thats happenin- No, not that i'm sure. The cat drank MY MILK. MINE MINE MINE. I dun think thats happy) or what really, i'm not sure. But the point is, i am, content-ish. Maybe its a body thing. It can't be unhappy for too long itself. I'm don't even mind my somewhat creepy friendish house-mates either! (who btw kinda eve teased away the girls livin in the house across the street. I am livin wid leches who walk in groups, n pass comments at girls or if in a more civilized environment, express their fantasies to eachother. Like atleast they used to wid the girls in that house. The steppin out of the femme from shimla was often met wid shouts of "shimla mirch" (capsicum which literally translates as the spice or chillies frm shimla). altho