My Pug Marks

This thought experiment was grueling enough that I could hear the whining of my mental hard drive.  What exactly is business like?  Is it good to be business like?  Is it the new success mantra we swear by these days in the corporate world?  Does business like mean being all open and ready for business while you may be cursing the moron sitting in front of you under your breath?  Does it make you a moron if you think of the person in front of you was a moron since you may never know how incredibly talented he may turn out to be despite his rustic accent and antiquated non-corporate style?  Being suited and booted with an attitude is the only way that you can be business like or as Google's philosophy for being 'serious without wearing suits' works just fine?  Does it make a guy business like if he can talk to ten people from different strata and still actually truly be a moron? Does business like mean that you know the art to ...

As a ritual, I drop my wife to office every working day. As a ritual, we end up running 10-15 mins late. I am an owl type, hence mornings are usually slothfully slow for me. This irritates her. While she gets ready in 20 mins flat (5 minutes added, thankfully, because of the dressing table that we have now), I end up taking almost 50 mins. This also means she gets more time to sleep (aargh!). As we menace through the rough traffic & pot holed roads and reach her office, she says the same thing to me everyday. "Be good. Don't get angry!" I smile back and drive on to my office. I was wondering about this once. I was outraged for a bit - What does she mean? Am I a cruel heartless beast that she has to ask me to be good everyday? After calming down in an instant thinking she knows better, I gave it a deeper thought. In general, we forget to be good and get irritated with all the small and big things that happen to us or around us everyday. The roads are bad, the w...

I love the cafeteria on the 4th floor in my office. It may not be as funky & stylish as my previous workplace's but the view is simply inspiring. If you happen to come a bit early or a little late with fewer people dining around, you can get the window seat and eat in peace looking outside to see this. View from the 4th floor cafeteria This rugged iron structure, is probably the foundation of a work in progress (or not) building. Along all four sides are finished buildings, including the one which hosts my office. I keep looking at the rusty beams and  they still seem to stand strong. Despite all finished products around, there seems to be space for something new, a work in progress that can be shaped to a fine thing. It can be shaped to be so good that it completely shrouds the existing ones which boast of having stood the test of time. Who knows?  I like work in progress. It is always good to look forward to something new and different. What do you think?...

Like the pistol bullets shot At an army with swords for defense Like an expensive dairy chocolate slab Gifted to a lactose intolerant Like a treatment for depression related disorders Prescribed to the guy who acts joker in the circus Like an amusement park Filled with Dementor-like creatures Life is a simple equation Filled with many variables

Photo Courtesy: www.trekearth.com I'd sit with you Oh Arabian Sea My thoughts would sail Holding the colorful fishes' trail Calm my nerves ruptured Watching that distant ship anchored Forget my mournful days Pelting the rocks your constant waves Strengthen my emotional defense Rippled water your fence But no, I just can't sit My last local leaves in a bit

as you walked by a few thoughts sprung in mind of my should i just hold your hand to induce in your mind a thought band or should i come in front of you from your eyes i get questions too but as it passed the thought last you had already walked past as you sit i feel like a misfit your presence pristine is all you need but i aught to be there on your aura i feed you look at me with smiling eyes my world becomes virtue without vice and then you call me for something i get pulled by the unknown string as you quietly sleep into another world my mind takes a leap a face of calm meadows and airy sunshine they begin to dimmer on the forehead those lines a quiet peaceful slumber shrouds the room even with the world outside going crazy towards doom you fit cosily into my chest the feeling of a saint in his himalayan rest

 image courtesy: moonlightblue.wordpress.com pain in neck pain in head killing eyes imploring to die anaerobic respiration acid in muscles all the creepy aches erupt simultaneously with no respite hazy sight nothing compares though to the aches of the heart inside

As I sit to write My same old ink pen Begins to talk to me In words I never knew I would ever know It refuses to write Saying its canals had dried Like the thoughts, I tried But it did not relent I reminded him of the good old The smell of blue as it faded on husky old paper It reminded me of how long that was After much persuasion It did splutter the same old smell of blue Beginning afresh with splendor renewed

And as I drive on an empty dark road Radio playing slow beautiful songs My mind wanders away from menial To us and how it all happened Like an old wine Beautiful thought Growing older and better The way we met and things turned around Like a stuck record Beautiful music Playing the symphony  Melodies to my heart The way we met and things turned around Like a grandfather's clock Beautiful mechanism Cogwheels fitting perfectly Like our fingers intertwined The way we met and things turned around And as I halt and return to present Focusing back on the menial I save you in my mind For another time

Image Courtesy: Self! :) a puff of invisible fume rising above like an unknown plume rickety in its path as it flows a cold wind freezes it mellow like a cotton ball grey and white flowing in sky's ocean in full sight in search of more of its kind to build and structure and bind like huge drums beating and streak of light falls back in a cold wet flight into the blue from where it came round and round to rise again

Image Courtesy: http://mockingmusic.blogspot.com/ they don't know there is strength in oblivion a grim energy being built from their derision a new charge up vicious than can be imagined a solid hammer nail that can't be unhinged clarity of vision new mission strength from oblivion

Today was a special day. Some of the same feelings overwhelmed me like they used to in childhood. That feeling of having butterflies in stomach before something important. That feeling of overwhelming regret which comes across when something just doesn't go right and you do not have anyone to blame, not even yourself. Anyway, here are some nuggets of the day in form of some wise cracks from an especially pissed off guy who needs a beer right now, which obviously he can't get his hands on : 1. You obviously think of beer when you are extremely pissed. 2. Not all habits die hard, some just are immortal. 3. Sometimes, when you are screwed - there is a possibility of getting screwed a little further. 4. Sometimes, you cannot tell what/who screwed you. 5. You will forget this soon. 6. It always remains like this - to remind you even if you forget Can't figure out what is all this? Go be very very upset and grab a beer and read again.

Image Courtesy: David J. Nightingale  | www.chromasia.com Big things happen that become small over a period of time. Monday Tests used to be so important that we wasted our entire Sunday evenings on them. Then those exams, those practicals. So many events that shape our lives eventually just fog out in some dusty corners of the mind. When they are recalled, they just stop everything inside for a second - at the point of recall. Isn't it? Greater and more important things always take priority over less important ones - less important, they feel not when they happened but now. That single test, those exams, that moment when you made through (or did not) to the college of your choice, that first backlog that you got and thought it was all over, that first crush you had and thought would be your entire life, that first job at which you thought you would shine like a star, all important moments - all get fuzzy down the constantly abrasive ladder of life. But that doesn't mean o...

Image Courtesy: William P Coleman it was just a look for a fleeting moment then the eyes went down a feigning stunt more often they met more times a day and now accompanying them was a smiling warm face and then came the simple words hey, what is your name? name told and asked introductions made time started flowing moods started flying unknown feelings erupting mind started corrupting things unexplained happened and sitting today one just imagines how was it all spun when the heart itself is a shenanigan

It is just a thought that I have been nursing for a while. I am not going to reveal it, but finally, it is something that I really look forward to doing now. Given the quarter age crises that we quarter agers tend to fall in, I can safely say that I am nursing a nebulous thought for now. It may or may not work, but for now, I don't really care. I just have to work on it. No more. No less. Just wanted to put this on record, coz well, someday...

I reign In the world of the fogged gloss Dare not the barriers I set anyone cross Because from one horizon to other I reign In the tempest of mind Beyond any fathomable thought Are clear droplets of wisdom Which run my kingdom My whims aren't fancies But an elaborate functioning machine All parts greased No metal that I ever feign Come you army of lost generations With filthy crippled ideas on lose There ain't any place in this world Where I'll let penetrate your rigged views And there you'll all go crushed With not even a  speck left of your credence To remind the whole world That it is better with your absence Off you go From my lovely kingdom You insipid blind followers For the God whose name you say you preach Is imploring, in His name I beseech.

A cake with a cherry People making merry Surrounded with love With blessings from heaven above Their child's first year on earth Should be celebrated without any dearth Happiness on faces Loving embraces Gardens manicured Tricks by magician Goof ups from the joker Small kids allured The desert winds blow Making their march slow Covered faces and blinding storms As little baby's wailing fails to form Father comes back to take a look From the child's mother In his embrace the  baby he took Open deserts and killing winds With all its fury nature brings Their child's first year on earth Was celebrated without any dearth

All is fine Everything so divine Birds twitter as the glorious sun shines Just too suddenly For me to realize Out of nowhere A little tornado conceptualize Carrying along Dust and rags and mud With the bird's song It plays around Ruffles a few dead leaves As the previous part Of the dusty road heaves But it wasn't much time Like me The playful tornado was blind For it got sucked As behind the clouds Sun ducked Into a larger scheme of things No more tweets to be heard Nor was recalled That lovely bird A huge storm Blew out of proportion Dust flogged vision And brought a few tears But not for long As it does not end here For heavens went gracious And soaked all the fear All got wet and beautiful again And again All is fine Everything so divine...

And it happens again. The dilemma, the thoughts Umpteen mental wars fought The craze and the haze Unfocussed and dazed Ideas that lure Charlatan mind's demeanour This way or that Becomes life's meandering path Skin left behind With no button rewind Change is a bane And it happens again.

Johnson was pretty average in Quantum Mechanics 101. His grades in Relativity Theorems also sucked. He was not proud of it and made it a point to read extensively before he started his sophomore year. It was his sheer luck to have landed at MIT with truly average grades. May be the panel took pity and took notice of his project on Understanding Vector Angular Motion at Joints of Robotic Arms that landed him in the cosy hostel room at MIT about an year ago. He was getting nostalgic about how his father taught him Electromagnetic Theory in Grade Six and how he always goofed up with simple formulae. He wished he had paid more attention to his elementary courses. Of course, he couldn't survive in the brutal competition that was waiting for him in the Sophomore. Robotics was a subject coveted by the best of the best of the best at MIT. It indeed was the 'in' thing. He simply had to study Advanced Robotics.  He wished for a miracle - and it happened.  There on the LED board, Kryp...