Ranjana, Ranjana...who the {beep} is Ranjana
Another addition to the shining list of accomplishments that this govt. of ours can be proud of. The union ministry for broadcasting has decided that the Indian society is still too childish and immature, that it is unable to decide what should and should not be seen on TV. That, it is too stupid that any TV content must be filtered for objectionable content, before the poor junta is exposed to it. Can't blame them for thinking this way though, 'cause anyone who brought them to power in the first place, must be nothing short of a dumbass.
And hey...no hard feelings regarding the title...just thought it conveyed the idea quite accurately...n besides its hard to have those for someone you don't really know/care about.
Sunday, August 27, 2006
Strange.
You meet people you never met before.
You talk to strangers you never knew before.
And yet, you stop talking to people you talked to before.
The vicious cycle sways away.
People come and people go. A few stay, the rest fade away.
The pictures are there, the names are there.
But you can't remember the people they were.
Too embarrased to ask their name again, you find it comfortable to leave them disdained.
And yet, you will meet them again.
With a brand new face and jazzy name.
The vicious cycle sways away.
---- sabbath, bloddy sabbath ----
You meet people you never met before.
You talk to strangers you never knew before.
And yet, you stop talking to people you talked to before.
The vicious cycle sways away.
People come and people go. A few stay, the rest fade away.
The pictures are there, the names are there.
But you can't remember the people they were.
Too embarrased to ask their name again, you find it comfortable to leave them disdained.
And yet, you will meet them again.
With a brand new face and jazzy name.
The vicious cycle sways away.
---- sabbath, bloddy sabbath ----
Thursday, August 24, 2006
187 life stories.
187 lives were lost in the Mumbai Train Blasts.
Indian Express carries an article on it's front page covering a victim's life story a day.
Reading one after the other, you'll realize that you have seen this earlier.
Final Destination, anyone?
People who were not supposed to be at the place they were on that day.
The story will fade away but the irony will remain forever.
187 lives were lost in the Mumbai Train Blasts.
Indian Express carries an article on it's front page covering a victim's life story a day.
Reading one after the other, you'll realize that you have seen this earlier.
Final Destination, anyone?
People who were not supposed to be at the place they were on that day.
The story will fade away but the irony will remain forever.
Sunday, August 06, 2006
Lost in a sea of souls
Had a sucky annual day party at some fancy five star yesterday. Damn those hotels suck at making food for a party-it was worse than my friendly-neighbourhood-dhaba.
Nyways...not deviating from the point, there was something apart from the bad food and the bad music and the bad crowd that troubled me. Troubled me so deeply that it forced me to write a blog!
Consider this. A hall packed with the company's employees. Lotsa colleagues, team mates around. Throw in a dozen or so people from the company whom i call friends as well. But still...once the forced greetings, a bit of chit-chat, and the customary mud-slinging of the company/party was over, I found myself at a loss of words. I just cudnt think of what to talk about. Conversations were forced. The smiles and laughs...faked. Even on the dance floor...it was as if I'm standing in the middle of a performance...people, whom I dint feel I even knew...dancing around me...pulling me to join in. But there was no connection. Whatsoever. And all this, despite mine being quite high as well!!
I tried to make a desparate, last effort to call Blatherer, but the ass refused. Then, thankfully, a good ol' friend from the school times happened to call me, and I ended up talking to him for almost an hour in the lobby. Ah...the joy of an unabated flow of conversation! That was for me the most enjoyable hour of the party.
So now a bit of gyaan: NOTHING makes a party more fun (not even booze) than the company of good friends. And also, the luckiest people are those whose colleagues (whom the percieve to be friends) are actually friends...........sadly, mine are not.
Had a sucky annual day party at some fancy five star yesterday. Damn those hotels suck at making food for a party-it was worse than my friendly-neighbourhood-dhaba.
Nyways...not deviating from the point, there was something apart from the bad food and the bad music and the bad crowd that troubled me. Troubled me so deeply that it forced me to write a blog!
Consider this. A hall packed with the company's employees. Lotsa colleagues, team mates around. Throw in a dozen or so people from the company whom i call friends as well. But still...once the forced greetings, a bit of chit-chat, and the customary mud-slinging of the company/party was over, I found myself at a loss of words. I just cudnt think of what to talk about. Conversations were forced. The smiles and laughs...faked. Even on the dance floor...it was as if I'm standing in the middle of a performance...people, whom I dint feel I even knew...dancing around me...pulling me to join in. But there was no connection. Whatsoever. And all this, despite mine being quite high as well!!
I tried to make a desparate, last effort to call Blatherer, but the ass refused. Then, thankfully, a good ol' friend from the school times happened to call me, and I ended up talking to him for almost an hour in the lobby. Ah...the joy of an unabated flow of conversation! That was for me the most enjoyable hour of the party.
So now a bit of gyaan: NOTHING makes a party more fun (not even booze) than the company of good friends. And also, the luckiest people are those whose colleagues (whom the percieve to be friends) are actually friends...........sadly, mine are not.
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