I was cleaning my hard disk. i found the character introduction of a fiction that i had tried to begin. I left it for obvious reasons. Er, obvious for me, of course. I say, people, can u recognize em? its really easy, you know.
Nigel: - A sleepy guy with excellent calculating abilities. Has the air of a guy confused about life in general. he has no idea whats going on. And if he did, he wouldn't know what do do about it. Has some hidden talents.
Sean: - The think tank. He has excellent far sight, insight and all other varieties of sight up his sleeve. He just misses the things under his nose. Has strong imagination, and is slightly paranoid about well, everything.
Jupe: - The Mr. Sensible. Apart from being sensible, he is also very smart, quick, intelligent and cunning. Or, so he preferred to think. He had the remarkable skill of arriving at the wrong conclusion at break-neck speed. And oozing confidence with sarcastic undertones.
Inu: A man with a tell-tale positive outlook. Is the owner of a fledgling software company, and currently, is looking for unsuspecting partners. Has strong affinity for money and students.
Raymond: An unexpected but welcome interjection into the world of the other four. A table-turner. Precocious. His ways belies his age. A kind gentle-man, quick witted and with a flair for deception(for a noble cause), story telling, and argument(for a noble cause).
Er, fictions too much of a bother. Sorry for editing it, but people, You were suffering from some grave misunderstandings! This should make sense!
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
The lengend of bxtp
Origin:
It was a fine day. I was having a chat with Mr. Roroschach. He was in a particularly irritating mood, subjecting me to unabashed sycophancy to which i, i have to admit, replied with equal enthusiasm. In course of our chat, Roro suddenly said- "Tor hobe".
Nothing smart occurred to me and i too replied-"tor o hobe."
That, my dea/er ladies and gentlemen, is when it all began.
Another fine day. I say "fine" to accentuate that it was finer that most so called fine days.
I was playing a game with Roro in which we were telling each other -"tor hobe".
In the midst of this thrilling game, Roro, in a moment of fey madness, stumbled upon a brilliant question.
"kano hobe?" he asked. The question that triggered it all.
"Because, mate, you have the thing." I said in high spirits. Like most great people, it hit us seconds later.
"Can you name it, and thus limit the thing?" asked Roro.
"No, i cannot. Since i cannot name it, it has to have a unpronounceable name. So lets give it a name." I replied gravely, for i had realised that potential of "the thing".
"LKDIOBDFLKNIDOUVIFVDFIBLNIOPH" offered Roro. Now, ladies and gentlemen, Roro is a fine lad, highly accomplished in a number of things. However, i refuse to concede that he has any talent in nomenclature.
"I want to make it unpronounceable phonetically, my man, not aesthetically revolting!" i said, disgusted. "Lets name it bxtp. Short and to the point", i said.
"bxtp it is!" agreed Roro.
And hence, bxtp was born.
Nature:
bxtp cannot be defined. Lets get the facts straight. We didn't invent it. We discovered it, and named it. And er, that doesn't undermine our achievement. It was, um, a stroke of genius.
Heres an explanation in FAQ format.
Q: What is bxtp?
A: Bxtp is a part of you. Its inside you, beside you, around you. It encompasses you, it fills you. The exact nature has not been ascertained, but Roro, in collaboration with some leading members of MESSIAH*, is developing the Metaphysioscpoe that will enable us to study the bxtp.
Mr Cat, the leading man in the field of "everything" in general, tried to describe it in this fashion. "It deals with potentail, creativity, innate goodness, the consciousness."
The closest description would be that it is a combination of sensitivity, potential, creativity, innate goodness, the consciousness AND the subconsciousness. With a certain amount of Luck and the supernatural that causes the little miracles in our otherwise mundane life.
*MESSIAH-Members enforcing Secret Senses in and around Humans.
Q:How does bxtp work?
A: bxtp is ingrained in you. It influences your decision. It directs your action. It encourages you, discourages you. It holds you back and propels you.
We are in the process of developing certain laws which will simplify the study of bxtp and its idiosyncrasies.
On critical analysis of bxtp, it was uncovered that bxtp changes with age. Although the exact demarcation of "age" hasn't been determined, every age has a new and developed bxtp. They may be similar in nature or Totally different from the old bxtp. Now, during the transition phase when an individual has to relinquish the old bxtp and accept a new bxtp, a number of unique changes are noticed. This phase can change an individual dramatically.
So on the basis of this observation we formulated the first law of bxtp:
Person remaining constant, the bxtp develops in direct proportion with age.
Q: How many types of bxtp are there?
A:6.5 billion.
Q:Can anyone lose their bxtp? damage it, enhance it?
A:T'is impossible. bxtp is a part of you. Yes, if you manage to kill yourself, you'll lose your bxtp. We haven't done that experiment yet, but you're welcome to volunteer.
Q: The discovery of bxtp is revolutionary?
A: Thats not a question.
It was a fine day. I was having a chat with Mr. Roroschach. He was in a particularly irritating mood, subjecting me to unabashed sycophancy to which i, i have to admit, replied with equal enthusiasm. In course of our chat, Roro suddenly said- "Tor hobe".
Nothing smart occurred to me and i too replied-"tor o hobe."
That, my dea/er ladies and gentlemen, is when it all began.
Another fine day. I say "fine" to accentuate that it was finer that most so called fine days.
I was playing a game with Roro in which we were telling each other -"tor hobe".
In the midst of this thrilling game, Roro, in a moment of fey madness, stumbled upon a brilliant question.
"kano hobe?" he asked. The question that triggered it all.
"Because, mate, you have the thing." I said in high spirits. Like most great people, it hit us seconds later.
"Can you name it, and thus limit the thing?" asked Roro.
"No, i cannot. Since i cannot name it, it has to have a unpronounceable name. So lets give it a name." I replied gravely, for i had realised that potential of "the thing".
"LKDIOBDFLKNIDOUVIFVDFIBLNIOPH" offered Roro. Now, ladies and gentlemen, Roro is a fine lad, highly accomplished in a number of things. However, i refuse to concede that he has any talent in nomenclature.
"I want to make it unpronounceable phonetically, my man, not aesthetically revolting!" i said, disgusted. "Lets name it bxtp. Short and to the point", i said.
"bxtp it is!" agreed Roro.
And hence, bxtp was born.
Nature:
bxtp cannot be defined. Lets get the facts straight. We didn't invent it. We discovered it, and named it. And er, that doesn't undermine our achievement. It was, um, a stroke of genius.
Heres an explanation in FAQ format.
Q: What is bxtp?
A: Bxtp is a part of you. Its inside you, beside you, around you. It encompasses you, it fills you. The exact nature has not been ascertained, but Roro, in collaboration with some leading members of MESSIAH*, is developing the Metaphysioscpoe that will enable us to study the bxtp.
Mr Cat, the leading man in the field of "everything" in general, tried to describe it in this fashion. "It deals with potentail, creativity, innate goodness, the consciousness."
The closest description would be that it is a combination of sensitivity, potential, creativity, innate goodness, the consciousness AND the subconsciousness. With a certain amount of Luck and the supernatural that causes the little miracles in our otherwise mundane life.
*MESSIAH-Members enforcing Secret Senses in and around Humans.
Q:How does bxtp work?
A: bxtp is ingrained in you. It influences your decision. It directs your action. It encourages you, discourages you. It holds you back and propels you.
We are in the process of developing certain laws which will simplify the study of bxtp and its idiosyncrasies.
On critical analysis of bxtp, it was uncovered that bxtp changes with age. Although the exact demarcation of "age" hasn't been determined, every age has a new and developed bxtp. They may be similar in nature or Totally different from the old bxtp. Now, during the transition phase when an individual has to relinquish the old bxtp and accept a new bxtp, a number of unique changes are noticed. This phase can change an individual dramatically.
So on the basis of this observation we formulated the first law of bxtp:
Person remaining constant, the bxtp develops in direct proportion with age.
Q: How many types of bxtp are there?
A:6.5 billion.
Q:Can anyone lose their bxtp? damage it, enhance it?
A:T'is impossible. bxtp is a part of you. Yes, if you manage to kill yourself, you'll lose your bxtp. We haven't done that experiment yet, but you're welcome to volunteer.
Q: The discovery of bxtp is revolutionary?
A: Thats not a question.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Those who come and those who go.
You leave a kid beside an old dusty bedraggled car. When you return you'll inevitably find a wide smiling face on the glass panes of the car. And other interesting nonsensical figures. On a good day. On a bad day, well, just a face.
A very interesting habits noticed in toddlers. Give them a bowl of puffed rice. Its an inherent curiosity, i believe, which is responsible for this action. Without delay, they overturn the bowl. Once they have all the constituents on the floor, they derive a very curious satisfaction in eating the rice grains one by one. Searching for them, examining them(with the tip of their tongue jutting out of the corner of their mouth), and them popping them into their mouth.
..........
A distant relative of mine, who was 105, passed away yesterday. I met her once, 7 years ago. She was 98 then.
She was suffering from multiple diseases, so death, in a way, was a relief for her. But thats not i wish to discuss.
A lady who saw 105 springs in her life. A lady who is a history in herself. A lady who had the endurance to withstand the death of 8 of her kin, both younger and older. And the lady who witnessed the birth of a larger number still.
A lady who celebrated* a centenary birthday. A lady who lived through, what we call, a "lifetime" of experiences. And how!
*She actually smiled and recognised MOST people who visited her on her birthday. The number ran well into triple figures.
A very interesting habits noticed in toddlers. Give them a bowl of puffed rice. Its an inherent curiosity, i believe, which is responsible for this action. Without delay, they overturn the bowl. Once they have all the constituents on the floor, they derive a very curious satisfaction in eating the rice grains one by one. Searching for them, examining them(with the tip of their tongue jutting out of the corner of their mouth), and them popping them into their mouth.
..........
A distant relative of mine, who was 105, passed away yesterday. I met her once, 7 years ago. She was 98 then.
She was suffering from multiple diseases, so death, in a way, was a relief for her. But thats not i wish to discuss.
A lady who saw 105 springs in her life. A lady who is a history in herself. A lady who had the endurance to withstand the death of 8 of her kin, both younger and older. And the lady who witnessed the birth of a larger number still.
A lady who celebrated* a centenary birthday. A lady who lived through, what we call, a "lifetime" of experiences. And how!
*She actually smiled and recognised MOST people who visited her on her birthday. The number ran well into triple figures.
D'Dmas
Anyone seen that D'Dmas Collection G add? In which the lady tells us in details what she would like? When asked by a waiter?
Aren't adds supposed to entice people? Aren't they supposed to be alluring?
This is...i mean, words fail me.
Aren't adds supposed to entice people? Aren't they supposed to be alluring?
This is...i mean, words fail me.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Him.
A dark wooden room. Two black mahogany chairs, both easy ones, facing each other. A small dark round table in between them. With one decrepit ash tray. One solitary window facing the west. A square window with a broken pane. A thin shaft of light piercing the darkness of the room. But not rudely. An atmosphere of stillness. Of misguided peace.
The warm orange shaft of light. Falling on the floor to reveal the dusty wooden floor. With cracks in it. That creak when stepped on. The dust motes swaying in the light. The only evidence that time isn't standing still.
The smell of smoke and age. And dust and wood.
A man sitting on one of the chairs. A man with half closed eyes, blowing soft smoke rings. And waiting. Or, is he dreading? Or, maybe hoping? But not moving except, except the periodic smoke rings. Distorted smoke rings.
A deathly silence. No, not deathly yet. A silence broken only by the sound of a deep muffled breathing. Only if one listens hard enough. Very hard.
Something stops. A soul passes from the house of silence to the land of silence. But nothing changes. Or everything does. For different people. For him? Nope.
The warm orange shaft of light. Falling on the floor to reveal the dusty wooden floor. With cracks in it. That creak when stepped on. The dust motes swaying in the light. The only evidence that time isn't standing still.
The smell of smoke and age. And dust and wood.
A man sitting on one of the chairs. A man with half closed eyes, blowing soft smoke rings. And waiting. Or, is he dreading? Or, maybe hoping? But not moving except, except the periodic smoke rings. Distorted smoke rings.
A deathly silence. No, not deathly yet. A silence broken only by the sound of a deep muffled breathing. Only if one listens hard enough. Very hard.
Something stops. A soul passes from the house of silence to the land of silence. But nothing changes. Or everything does. For different people. For him? Nope.
Friday, April 17, 2009
The state of ennui
I somehow don't feel inclined to be. In other words, there are a few things about my existence that i do not find acceptable. Like the fact that i am getting repulsively bored. Now, this isn't really fair, is it? After the boards one has every right to expect that the lord will take mercy and bestow some prolonged happiness on him. Well, maybe the Lord has other plans. I do not approve of them.
Tchah.
I have so much time. I am not against utilising this time. But the manner of utilisation has to be according to my liking. This little sentence started of a argument of epic proportions in my home. Bah! Too much is being taken for granted.
I want to be like Batman. I want to protest and fight from behind the shadows. And do all that with an attitude. A rummy sort of revenge.
The other day i thought aloud-"Wish i were batman." And then, i looked outside to gauge batman prospects. You know, it feels really nice when nature agrees and encourages. As i thought the aforementioned thought aloud, I noticed this:
With imagination, it resembles The batman emblem. Well, an augmented emblem with frayed edges. But Nature concurred. That is the relevant point.
I want to travel. Go and see places. Do things. I want to be tired, tired of all the walking and exertion, tired enough to fall into an exhausted dreamless sleep. I want to feel the heat. Sitting in my room, in this pocha heat is one thing. And walking directly under the sun, walking far and long is another. Its better and infinitely more bearable.
I have nothing to do. Its an absolute defeat, a devastating blow to your morale when you turn to your books out of boredom. Text books. So, i am 3D. Disjointed, disoriented, disgruntled.
A change from this stupor feels like salvation. So, when i was offered the opportunity, I was remarkably quick to say yes. My good mother who perceives me as a lazy sloth kind of person, was rather surprised. Today, i went to our Junior School to collect books for my cousin. I had the opportunity of spending only one fateful year in that school. All friends and comrades talk about the fond memories that they associate with that school. A critical juncture of their life, one that they recollect with a slow smile and cheerful eyes.
In my case, it wasn't so. I spent so little time in there, that I left before it could leave any lasting impression. This idea, i noted with something close to surprise, is wrong. The trip to the school today proved so and i realised that somethings just compulsively affect you. Whether you like it or not, want it to or not. Another thing-I like playing with kids half my age. I decided yet again.
It has been a long time since I last envied people for their happiness. I do now. And I will continue to do so till things change. Obviously for the better.
Tchah.
I have so much time. I am not against utilising this time. But the manner of utilisation has to be according to my liking. This little sentence started of a argument of epic proportions in my home. Bah! Too much is being taken for granted.
I want to be like Batman. I want to protest and fight from behind the shadows. And do all that with an attitude. A rummy sort of revenge.
The other day i thought aloud-"Wish i were batman." And then, i looked outside to gauge batman prospects. You know, it feels really nice when nature agrees and encourages. As i thought the aforementioned thought aloud, I noticed this:
With imagination, it resembles The batman emblem. Well, an augmented emblem with frayed edges. But Nature concurred. That is the relevant point.
I want to travel. Go and see places. Do things. I want to be tired, tired of all the walking and exertion, tired enough to fall into an exhausted dreamless sleep. I want to feel the heat. Sitting in my room, in this pocha heat is one thing. And walking directly under the sun, walking far and long is another. Its better and infinitely more bearable.
I have nothing to do. Its an absolute defeat, a devastating blow to your morale when you turn to your books out of boredom. Text books. So, i am 3D. Disjointed, disoriented, disgruntled.
A change from this stupor feels like salvation. So, when i was offered the opportunity, I was remarkably quick to say yes. My good mother who perceives me as a lazy sloth kind of person, was rather surprised. Today, i went to our Junior School to collect books for my cousin. I had the opportunity of spending only one fateful year in that school. All friends and comrades talk about the fond memories that they associate with that school. A critical juncture of their life, one that they recollect with a slow smile and cheerful eyes.
In my case, it wasn't so. I spent so little time in there, that I left before it could leave any lasting impression. This idea, i noted with something close to surprise, is wrong. The trip to the school today proved so and i realised that somethings just compulsively affect you. Whether you like it or not, want it to or not. Another thing-I like playing with kids half my age. I decided yet again.
It has been a long time since I last envied people for their happiness. I do now. And I will continue to do so till things change. Obviously for the better.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Potpourri
When i locked the door yesterday, i had a weird feeling. Doubtless that i have locked many a door before, but this time, i had a weird sense of deja vu. The way the shaft of light fell on the lock and the way the key hung, its ring swinging like a hapless pendulum...there was something strange about it all. And the net effect could have been disastrous, i almost forgot to lock the door in all that quiet mayhem.
........
I have a very pertinent question that i wish to ask of the experts. How do they take blurred pictures in cameras superbly equipped with anti-blur mechanisms? One can understand that most people like recognisable photos, but there must be blasted option to turn that thing off. I like my face looking like melting ice cream. So what? My face, my ice cream.
........
I am not really into politics. But i read the newspapers. I want to ask something, and its a pretty straightforward question. Do Politicians really think before talking? That is all.
........
Mother is leaving for a couple of days.
Me and dad were pottering about doing her bidding when suddenly she addressed us in the voice that is the precursor of interesting happenings in our home.
"I will be leaving for a few days. You WILL be able to manage, right?" She said looking at us with conflicting emotions. Pity, exasperation, fear(not for us, for the house.I have very good reasons to believe so.)
"Not to worry, Madame. My Comrade here is an exceedingly amiable chappie. Be sure to leave a few instant coffees in the kitchen and he'll be very easy to manage. Besides, with an able housekeeper like me, he really cant do much." i said affably. I took a quick look at my dad. Highly reminiscent of a guppy, he was.
"And what about you?" she asked, refusing to smile though i could detect faint, almost imperceptible, twitches in the neighbourhood of her lips.
"I will just potter around doing this and that. Please let your mind be tranquil, for i have very healthy plans for the next few days." I said pleasantly.
"You must stop reading that book! You are so insufferable!" She said, now smiling.
"And i don't like being called comrade. Least of all by my son." added my dad.
"That, my good lady and gentleman, is out of question. I plan to grow up into (a) Psmith. The quintessence of intelligence and Suavity!" I said, "Now, you must excuse me, for though i find your company very pleasurable, I somehow have a mad craving for the sunshine outside."
........
Quote of the day (subhojit Sir): Engineering does not mean pouring oil into the Engine.
........
I have developed a very succinct phrase that describes how I am when shut indoor for the greater part, beg your pardon, WHOLE of the day. Nothing brilliant, but its accurate, you have to admit. '3D-Disoriented, disjointed, disgruntled.'
Nice. A good morning to you all.
........
I have a very pertinent question that i wish to ask of the experts. How do they take blurred pictures in cameras superbly equipped with anti-blur mechanisms? One can understand that most people like recognisable photos, but there must be blasted option to turn that thing off. I like my face looking like melting ice cream. So what? My face, my ice cream.
........
I am not really into politics. But i read the newspapers. I want to ask something, and its a pretty straightforward question. Do Politicians really think before talking? That is all.
........
Mother is leaving for a couple of days.
Me and dad were pottering about doing her bidding when suddenly she addressed us in the voice that is the precursor of interesting happenings in our home.
"I will be leaving for a few days. You WILL be able to manage, right?" She said looking at us with conflicting emotions. Pity, exasperation, fear(not for us, for the house.I have very good reasons to believe so.)
"Not to worry, Madame. My Comrade here is an exceedingly amiable chappie. Be sure to leave a few instant coffees in the kitchen and he'll be very easy to manage. Besides, with an able housekeeper like me, he really cant do much." i said affably. I took a quick look at my dad. Highly reminiscent of a guppy, he was.
"And what about you?" she asked, refusing to smile though i could detect faint, almost imperceptible, twitches in the neighbourhood of her lips.
"I will just potter around doing this and that. Please let your mind be tranquil, for i have very healthy plans for the next few days." I said pleasantly.
"You must stop reading that book! You are so insufferable!" She said, now smiling.
"And i don't like being called comrade. Least of all by my son." added my dad.
"That, my good lady and gentleman, is out of question. I plan to grow up into (a) Psmith. The quintessence of intelligence and Suavity!" I said, "Now, you must excuse me, for though i find your company very pleasurable, I somehow have a mad craving for the sunshine outside."
........
Quote of the day (subhojit Sir): Engineering does not mean pouring oil into the Engine.
........
I have developed a very succinct phrase that describes how I am when shut indoor for the greater part, beg your pardon, WHOLE of the day. Nothing brilliant, but its accurate, you have to admit. '3D-Disoriented, disjointed, disgruntled.'
Nice. A good morning to you all.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Humour and terror.
I know, Wodehouse is considered the pinnacle of humour, but in his writing i find a rather affecting quality. So much so that now, i want to talk like Psmith. Really want to. But that isn't wholly possible, for people often ask the appalling question, "Why are you talking like a book?" These days, the number of people appreciating good humour is dwindling alarmingly. Sigh.
That apart, I had a terrifying experience last night. And i don't use the word "terrifying" for some grand effect. It was every bit as terrifying as the word means. I was almost caught in the crossfire of the clash between two parties. About twenty feet ahead of our cab, we noticed, and not without momentary as well as protracted fear, that a few men were hurling bombs. A thick haze of smoke had settled over the road. That was topped with some pipe guns going off. My Dad, with remarkable alacrity, told the driver to go for a 180 degree maneuver. As the car turned around i saw a thin fellow walk right past holding a small black revolver. Like those you see in movies except, this wasn't any goddamned movie. I caught his eye. And he caught mine. My eyes, displaying a treacherous mind of its own, slowly passed over to his hand which brandished the revolver while all i wanted was to shut my eyes. His fingers moved. My mind stopped. Heart is involuntary, otherwise it would have too. His fingers moved towards the trigger and hid the revolver from view. And he walked right past while we sped in the opposite direction.
Which is why now, i am in a position to describe exactly how one feels when fearing for his life. Melodramatic? I think not.
That apart, I had a terrifying experience last night. And i don't use the word "terrifying" for some grand effect. It was every bit as terrifying as the word means. I was almost caught in the crossfire of the clash between two parties. About twenty feet ahead of our cab, we noticed, and not without momentary as well as protracted fear, that a few men were hurling bombs. A thick haze of smoke had settled over the road. That was topped with some pipe guns going off. My Dad, with remarkable alacrity, told the driver to go for a 180 degree maneuver. As the car turned around i saw a thin fellow walk right past holding a small black revolver. Like those you see in movies except, this wasn't any goddamned movie. I caught his eye. And he caught mine. My eyes, displaying a treacherous mind of its own, slowly passed over to his hand which brandished the revolver while all i wanted was to shut my eyes. His fingers moved. My mind stopped. Heart is involuntary, otherwise it would have too. His fingers moved towards the trigger and hid the revolver from view. And he walked right past while we sped in the opposite direction.
Which is why now, i am in a position to describe exactly how one feels when fearing for his life. Melodramatic? I think not.
Monday, April 6, 2009
United its languid. Individually its depressing. Somehow its deceptive.
I am closing this blog down indefinitely. Due to some complex/simple mental problems, I don't feel like continuing. I'll just hope i get inspired quickly to write stuff again. Till then.
Times like these, nothing fits. Nothing works.
I end with a few words. Completely random. But not disconnected.
Originality. Eminence. Trial. Points. half.
Disappointment. Hesitation. Open. (In)Significance
Tale. Wish. Exasperation. Comparison. Eyes.
Complex. Change. If. Only. Maybe.
Just like that. Yes. And No.
Times like these, nothing fits. Nothing works.
I end with a few words. Completely random. But not disconnected.
Originality. Eminence. Trial. Points. half.
Disappointment. Hesitation. Open. (In)Significance
Tale. Wish. Exasperation. Comparison. Eyes.
Complex. Change. If. Only. Maybe.
Just like that. Yes. And No.
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