09.20.09 (2:59 pm)   [edit]

Yes. I am giving no reason except my new address. I haven't really found a reason:



The tale of a very good idea

06.25.09 (12:10 pm)   [edit]

It seemed like a very good idea. It always does and you think of "why the hell did I have not  tried this before". Then you try to think of the drawbacks in the plan: you could not find a single one because you really don't look for it. Oh no, you dont! You just want to convince yourself later with the false fact that you were circumspect from the start. Its like the life insurance you take when you go out with a serial killer to the "Saw" movie: you really don't need it once everything is over.

Isn't life a bit too complex to comprehend when you are 26. You are old enough to have people ask: what happened to your dreams but in your mind, you still want to hope that you have time. Hope, is the quintessential strength,  weakness and all that is true but when it comes to the time you are faced with hope and action, the guy from within who says "procrastinate" is the worst enemy of all. Does he ever answer anything else? Is he the guy with eternal hope that gets nothing done? Probably yes. What is "certainly" yes is that I am using the word "Procrastinate" a lot. Reason, well, I know it.

All this leads me to one conclusion, desperate times need desperate measures. Enough of desperation that you start pinging back people who had last sent a message 15 mins ago, to ask "is that all you had to say?". I mean, this is the worst, isn't it? A real low-life.

Ok. What was the very good idea? Sleeping at 7 PM in the evening so that you get up at 9 PM and "work" late. Why does it sound not very good at the moment: Because you get up at 9:00 PM and start looking back at life and wondering if its too late to change anything. You talk to yourself looking at the mirror and you have all this bull shit to contend with. And you just can't sleep...argh. I rarely use an expletive in this bloglet but I think this one deserves it: Fuck J D Salinger who came up with this quote:  Don't ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody.


Not worth it

06.23.09 (7:34 am)   [edit]

Ever get the feeling of total indulgence wherein you want to do something for a long time, but had been putting it off for the same long time and one fine day comes when you no longer want to hold it back, and you realize that you cannot take another breath before starting the activity? no? reallllly no? Well I had one just now - and thats to write a bloglet. I have been procrastinating the writing part of it (but not the thinking part which accounts for my "indulgence") and I finally get to do it.

That said, I have not had a worthy subject to write about. Some people write bloglets about the films they saw, books they read and everyday cheery thing. I cannot get to do those these days (but I used to). Others have their boozing sessions to share (are you reading, Arun?), songs/video to share and even make posts on how their first cooking session went (not giving out this name). I look back here and I see that I usually ramble about myself. Its the truth - I write my bloglets when I am usually off-mood and there is no one else to vent on. Its true in a sense - a habit which still forces me not to write often. Does this bloglet reflect my nature? yes.. my nature when I am senselessly down in gloom. I am akin to the joker only in a different sense: I am an agent of gloom.

I like my rooms dark, windows closed. I like my drive long and slow. I am a loner. I like sad songs more than the chirpy ones. I am quite the opposite what many people seem to know me as. Things change as they have always done and there is a slow process that I am going through now.

I am done successfully writing this bloglet with the same mood as others. All I now need is a "depressed" label.


Significant times ... singnificant things

05.29.09 (6:26 am)   [edit]

Since my last post here, some significant things have happened. They are listed in no particular order below


I learnt one Bengali song. I can atleast sing two lines

I bought a black jacket - and yup, its fabulous

I learnt to be less arrogant by 0.056%

Learnt to type in a new kind of keyboard which is QWERTY but all the keys are arranged so spatially that I often came up with "kumba viil" when I needed to type "kinda cool


all days bright and beautiful

02.27.09 (11:32 pm)   [edit]

a day when you ought not to write a blog. Writing blogs on days like this let you know whenever you read it, what the meaning of a black day is. My day was not black because I am mourning someone but because its the day which started off badly, took a turn to the worse and at the end of it, had to end like the most unidealistical way.

A day when you constantly try to cheer yourself up, clinging to the hope that something positive would happen, should happen because its illogical for everything to fall away so rapidly, but yet does. A day when all the science of probability fails, the law of averages is proven wrong. A day when you dodge a kid's bicycle by inches only to be shaved off the face of the road by a water tanker. A day when there is so little to gain that you wish the 24 hours didn't even exist.

Days like these are not uncommon, they happen one time or the other to everyone - you say to yourself. Each time they come, you tend to recover in the coming days, looking forward to the light but at the end of the day, all you have is a big black hole which threatens to pull oneself in. Is it dark there? you can bet your life its not, its too bright and sunny and too warm for coziness. Infact the right word is hot like a fire. You can only burn yourself.

A day when writing a blog becomes so pleasant, so relieveing - the total vent that it contains. A day when a phone call could have made the day, but when the phone call does come, it last for exactly 1 minute. You say to yourself that its not possible but your cell phone doesn't lie. A day when you better accept that the earth is indeed flat for if you do disagree you may suddenly see that the earth is indeed flat as a pancake.

Days like this happen so irregularly, irrationally that the human species still exist. You cannot survive days like this unless you have a keen sense of deja vu, have had a nauseating headache more than once a year and are apt to snap at anything and everything. And days like this make you wonder where the logicality of the occam's razor is. Days like this, you see that Firefox has underlined the word logicality with a tiny red line because it thinks the word is wrongly spelled, but you dare not open it. Its 11:58 PM, still 2 mins to go. The chance of the whole system crashing on you for that simple, cynical error is nearer to 100 than 99. There you go. I ain't taking the chance


blogging template

02.20.09 (2:46 pm)   [edit]

A sentence about how I am opening the blog post page for the nth time in m days and I might finally post it,

A para about how very serious/drowsy/sad/dumped-like I am at the moment,

A quote about how I may be following the dreams of my infancy and/or the times I spent in my mother's womb,

A collection of words, meaningless and bloated, about how sleepy I feel now, the background song making no sense and that I write bad bloglets,

A deja vu feeling about a colleague's advice, mom's beating, brother's icecream et cetera,

A very random mumbling of the status of my own principles and the ruthless, constant gnawing by the inner rats of one's own soul,

A bad review on the book, movies that I may or may not have watched recently. I am pretty sure that atleast 38.89% of all reviews are written by people who have not seen/read/tasted the damned thing they are writing about. I also read that almost 96.78% of all stats are made up on the spot. For the kiddo who had to go through this drivel yesterday - sorry!

A very bad abstract piece on how I had a call at 2 AM in the night when I had been playing from a guy called rizi 15 years in the past, with a pain in the head. Should I call it ache?

A constantly vociferous appeal, in the name of mankind to stop pretending to be not afraid of heights. Acrophobia exists! Ain't no vertigo

A beautiful post describing the work I do, the place I work, the things I do which I finally end with a yearning to do better

A random advice post (the most dangerous on the lot) wherein I ask everyone to look into their own soul. Like Jagan once said, there are 7 rings and ... Ok - I will ask him to write a blog on it. and give the link here

Speaking of links, I have never given a link to another blog or to a song or to poem/lyrics or to anything useful/useless from my blog. This para is an aberration - an exception to the rule..

An extreme posting of how best to solve a people management problem that has words like attitude, assertiveness, perseverence, dilligence, mitigation, delegation thrown in.

P.S: The above text is not a well-formed XML



Sans comedy

01.26.09 (9:56 am)   [edit]

Its strange that the level of antagonism I have for a font is still not easy for me to explain. Part of me still doesn't believe that I once liked Comic Sans font (if someone who reads the blog wants to claim that they have no idea what it means, you may as well try politics) and came out of its usage for purely egotistical reasons. There is more to it than that - the purpose of this bloglet is to explain my gradual transformation in my liking for this font. It may be laborious for most to read but there is nothing like a full-fledged vent after seeing your nemesis font used in a website that you have to refer to, daily.

I had used the font widely when in my early internet years (I cite my obvious immaturity at that point as a reason for this - after all that was the time when I thought Java will rule the world for eternity) but had to snap out of it mainly because everyone else was doing the same. I am pretty sure that somewhere in the early years of this decade, I got myself a smug look every time I looked at someone using the font because I had "grown" out of it. This slowly changed to a mild irritation because so many people used it all the time that the smug look started to wear me. What better than to use a irritated look! It was at that point that I started my first work and I learnt that that the folks in my offfice were no better than the ones I met in my MIRC - they had to show off all their apparent imaginative skills in their fonts. One guy who sat near me used a font size of 20, in green color and the font (you guessed it right) Comic Sans. I made friends with him very quickly to make him comfortable calling me rather than just ping me. I used to cringe everytime he used to say that he is chatting with his onsite boss. I wonder where the boss went for treatment of his eyesight. It was then that I also realised that some of my office intranet sites were developed by people with vivid imagination of how Comic sans would work in different modes - bold, italic and even superscripts/strikeouts. If it had not been a free font, I would have written directly to concerned department that someone was advertising for the font using office resources. Too bad that it was available free and for some strange reason looked nice to everyone except me.

My dislike for comic sans seems not unique. I was recently going through the highly anticipated list of the best webdesigns of the year 2008 (atleast I anticipate it) and there was a selection of the best fonts availbale. Unfortunately most of them were not free but someone had written a sarcastic comment at the end of the page. It went like is the new Comic sans. I instantly knew that I had to start running all over again - if people are going to flood my surroundings with a new comic sans, I had to end my existence. Fortunately its still not widely (ab)used like CS and hopefully there  is some sanity to it. Also found this - I would like to have a T from the site


Some calls..

01.25.09 (11:18 pm)   [edit]

It was as good as someone calling me from the other side of life. I knew that I had the right to sleep but I was in demand and after all the egotistical cravings that I had, it was not possible to ignore the meaning of the ring. I yanked my blanket completely and got up - I would usually stretch my hands from inside the blanket and pull the mobile phone into the blanket, but I was acting differently. I knew that the call must be important, there was no way someone was calling at this hour to tell me how their health insurance plan was going to help me in my afterlife. I checked the number and as soon as my mind registered the number, felt that something was wrong about the whole situation.

I knew that the call would end soon if I didn't prepare for it. Also, there was the problem of call being missed as well. I shook my head a few times to let the sleep drain of me. I took the call and tried to be as active as possible in my "hi". The other took no longer than a moment to find out that I had been sleeping (who was I kidding anyway, eh?). After a few seconds, I dropped the mobile phone to where it belonged. I had decided that my sleep was enough and went to my PC - it had been turned on already and I knew immediately that I was going to go for the information. I didn't want to do it - it was far better for me with less knowledge about the whole situation.

I knew that I was tensed in an unusual way. I had no idea what I was going to do but I felt that I was as active as I had been awake for hours now - I knew that the change was coming. It was unusual for me to feel that way. It was not the sound of inevitability that shook my conscience, but the sound of my own emptiness at that hour that shook me. I sat down at my PC after yanking out my LAN cable. I hate to act weak but this was necessary. I took an hour before blending into my everyday life. It was as good as nothing had changed.


A little less random post

01.19.09 (11:38 am)   [edit]

I was born in some obscure month in 1983 in some obscure place in Tamilnadu. I didn't have a blog at that time. I did get an entry in my dad's diary and I think he still has that diary with him. Atleast that one exists.

I got my job offer at around midnight in another obscure day of July in 2003 - I was more than thrilled with the achievement. I called on people waiting to hear to news that I indeed did have some worth. I was more than enthralled at that point. I am pretty sure that it got an entry in my diary for the year 2003 - all I now have to do is find out what happened to that diary. This may or may not exist.

It is hard to imagine that when I went to the ATM near my learning center on a bright sunny day in August 2004, I was merely a 'kid'. It was more harder to imagine that my bank balance was more than zero for the first time in my life and I had seen something that I was worth finally. It was a moment I realised that my childhood fantasies would remain so all my life. I had forgotten the idea of diary writing and it would be atleast another month until I started blogging - this was not documented at all.

Today, I blog. I wonder what needs to be pulled to let everything sink in. 

P.S: Those who do not understand what this all means, please believe that I would grow enough to let you all know.

P.P.S: Those who understand what this means, please maintain your silence as you have been all throughout. I would be in your gratitude


History brings no lessons

01.13.09 (1:44 am)   [edit]

A long time ago when I was a fresher having joined this industry with multitude of dreams and a penchant for being excited about anything and everything, a wise old colleague gave me some advice. I still remember it being delivered - he was taking his coffee in the pantry while I had gone in to fetch some drinking water. We shared our usual hi's and he commented that he had come to my place a tad earlier but since I was in an animated discussion with my project mate, he had gone away. I asked him what he had come for and he told me that it was irrelevant. I was a bit surprised and proceeded to look at him with a face that said, "won't you tell me?". He smiled and said that he was expecting me to react the way I did. He then proceeded to tell me that he was happy to see me work hard but I was wasting my energy. I had heard that same piece of advice before - its the kind of advice that was delivered dime-a-dozen in pantries all over the world by the boss but never in a conference room. I proceeded to keep a wry smile. He stopped stirring his coffee, looked straight at me and said that he was really sorry that he could not explain me better. He then moved on. I realised a whole moment later that the "advice" was complete - I was relieved a bit that somehow my face had suggested to him that I have heard the same thing before and I was not interested in it at all. I fetched my water and made my peace with work sooner.

I didn't think of it much after that. I don't think I can still make out what happened between us after that - he was not in my same project and we had moved on while being in the same company. It was the kind of incident that you would  remember when you write a diary but not when you write a yearbook. But still I can still recollect it often. I still cannot fathom the emotions in his face when he delivered his last sentence. There was helplessness, a tad of anger and pity in that look - its the kind of look I wouldn't give to a beggar in the street. That was perhaps a bad example - the last time I gave a beggar a pitiful look was perhaps when I was still wearing shorts to school.

Anyway, there was no reason for me to remember that story here. There's nothing that is happening in my work/project that made me think of that incident again. Its just that I always remember it and perhaps there is no right time to write it here... better late than never I suppose