The last day of December

When you sit down in the evening -- curtains closed, low natural light -- you realize how fast the year's gone past. At one point of your think-trip, it almost feels like a blaze and you remember January like it was yesterday.

I remember when the year began.

Actually, I don't.
But what I do remember is that, even though, right now it feels like the year went away in a flash, there were times that were sluggish beyond imagination. Those were the days that just wouldn't end, no matter how much you wanted them to.
And then, there were the days you wished would last longer.

For me, waiting for college was like pushing a building. Nothing seemed to happen at a stretch of 3 months. Nothing. I don't even know how those months got crossed off the calendar. Waking up at 12 and going to sleep twelve hours later never seemed to go so slow.

But one day, it was over. And then, it felt like coming out of an underground bomb shelter after a Nuclear attack.

That's precisely when college doors opened for me.
And after college began, there was no way of tracing the clock's footsteps. Days were passing by like the pages flip when you're reading the most interestingest novel.
It just happened a couple of months ago, and I can't even mathematically explain how it was only a couple of months.
For one thing, I got out of school this year, but it feels like it's been forty.

There's obviously some sort of problem in the space-time continuum when it comes to this day. Time dilates and contracts and inflates and shrinks and it all goes crazy.

Yeah, but that's pretty much what happens every year.

Another thing that happens every year, somewhere around this date, but preferably no later, is that I say:

Have a happy new year.

Candycanes

Christmas day.

This day has something weird about it. I can't really put my finger on it, but I have to say it's not really positive. For starters, those Christmas songs are really depressing. I don't know what it is, but they have this melancholy inducing power or something.

Silent night, and a voice that dances around in misery telling you "Hey! Have a merry Christmas!". That's not what I want.

But like I said, I can't really tell if I want to hold those songs responsible for everything that goes on.

Actually, I have no idea. I don't know if it's the smell of the food, or the red hats everywhere. Maybe it's the fights I've been having or the fact that I haven't been on a shopping spree of late. It could even be my broken headphones. I don't even know why I'm taking it all out on this day.

One thing's for sure though -- those songs are no good. They've got something wrong in the melody or something. All those bells in the music and schoolboy choruses -- no good.
Punk rock is far more cheerful.

And to top off those bad songs playing at the malls, I had a Toasty Twister and it didn't quite taste up to my expectations. It was just another reminder that I never should've digressed from the Zinger burger.

Anyway, the trouble with being sad is that, you tend to spread it around you, whenever you talk to someone. That, and anger. They're pretty Newtonian.
And since that's something I absolutely do not want to do, I just hope you have a very Zingery Christmas.

Yeah, it's almost over, but what the hey.

I con fusion

At one point of time, life was crystal clear.
You knew where the train headed, and why you were going there. Things made sense out of the sheer desire to make sense, and it was all like a movie on Blu-ray.
At one point of time, life was crystal clear.

But that was probably sometime in the '60s.

Just when I thought I was somehow exempt from teenage hysteria, it gripped me like a cold hands on a warm cup of coffee. Odiously, it hasn't loosened its grip since.

For example, my will to write about the Mumbai attack (11/26) was crushed when I was stuck choosing between:

"It's not raining." and
"It isn't raining."

Complexities have sprouted from nowhere, and I'm constantly standing at a fork in the road. This has led me to believe that I'm probably the only one who doesn't know what's going on.

The guys who missed their Metro Train home and stood, like a stone, at the station to watch the news about the situation in Mumbai when a couple of idiots hooked to GTA busted into the Taj -- they seemed to know what they were doing.
Why was I trying to get a seat in the Metro then?

The kids in college, who came in like me, at the same time as me, study day and night, and are on no sleep -- they seem to know what they're doing.
Why was I thinking of a new template for my blog then?

When I'm always heading in the opposi -- Wait a second!

No sleep? Are you kidding me? Those books don't deserve that! I don't care if you spent all night trying to memorise a useless fact about types of hammers! Plus, the results aren't even out yet. We'll see who thought about their blog, slept all night and comes out on top.

And those who cared about the Mumbai blast -- YOU don't know what you're doing. You're protesting against terrorism? Wow, smart move. It's not a freaking Government you're protesting against -- taking the nation to a halt for a day and marching out to the gate won't do anything. How does it even matter? Do you really think protesting against terrorism will make them stop? "Oh my God! Those guys are protesting against terrorists! We can't attack there!"

I don't mean to kid around when I say 'Rang De Basanti' has really gone to your head.

However, peace marches or lighting candles -- those are personal beliefs, and they do make sense. Protesting against someone who doesn't care, that is stupid.

Well, at least you made me feel smart.
I may have written only 118 posts, and this may be the millionth one about utter confusion, but you've done a good job at stopping me from writing my next post about confission. Fusion. Whatever.

Congratulations.

Little does he know

You don't need a signal to know if I have a blog. Google it!

Party's over

It's one thing to forget September 27 and write back 2 days later with an "Uh...I'm sorry" note, but to forget the 18th -- the very day this began -- and remember it at the beginning of the next month, and then write about it ten days later is way beyond absolution.

And since there's no point in asking for an apology, I'll just go forth and pile your desk up with the ton of excuses I just came up with a classy, chronological and intermediately descriptive account of events that kept me from getting my blog a 'Happy Birthday!' card.

..

College
School's been over for a long, long time now. College hasn't been on for that long, but it sure feels longer. Intriguingly enough, college, or at least my college, is closer to 5th grade school than anything else. The backpacks are heavy again. The homework's being submitted again. The homework's being submitted on time again. The files are being overworked at again.
With that as only a minute percentage of my periodic workload, I found it hard to scribble with my keyboard.

..

Home
Ever since college began, home became the holy abode of homework. Files were (and still are) due every mañana, so there was absolutely no way for me to come back home at 7:30, sit down for half an hour, copy from a freaking, highly erroneous and stupidity-laden (so-called) lab manual, and draw meaningless diagrams of the null, and then go out on the hunt for a wild birthday card.
Mission unaccomplished, baby!

..

The power button
Well, the power button's all the way below my knee (at chair level) and damn. I was so freaking lazy that I...just...*yawn*..cou..

..

College
College, or at least, my college is nothing like the one they show in 'Jaane Tu...ya jaane na' (or other movies of such nature). But the worst part is that it isn't anything like 'Jaane Tu...ya jaane na'. At least not yet.
The sorrow bogged me down. I couldn't write.

Sorrow.

..

College
Chemistry is an evil subject and it's hard to believe the government hasn't banned it yet. What's harder to believe is that it doesn't matter what you're studying, you just have to "study" chemistry. Now, some of you might argue otherwise and tell me that the debate is pointless, but the truth is that chemistry is pointless -- to me and to millions of teenagers like me.
Stop tethering chemistry with B.Tech, let abhas1 wish a little birthday!

..

Excuses
I thought of one/elaborated an older one everyday.
"Write today? Nah! I'll tell them the planet exploded my dog ate the draft!"

..

College
I had to slice bars of iron. Really! And my arms were wrapped in crepe bandage to fight the overlord of Pain.

.....

Now don't ask me how I sat down to write this. All I know is that this belated thing is getting to me. And that I forgot the 27th this year, too.

Damnation.

?Yhw

Where do you go

to be safe?

Where can you tell yourself

NOTHING will go wrong?

Are you too sure?

I saw the blast.

A bomb explode

with my own freakin' eyes

right in front of me.

If was any closer, I would

have been

in the smoke.

Where do you go?

Where do you know?

They know no shame.

They play religion.

Why mustn't you?

And kill that of the trash.

All hope is lost

Or is it really?

Binary choice

Log:
July 25, 2007
12:32 PM

[Begin transmission]
...
"Hey, you're [noise], right?"
"Yeah.."

[Signal disturbance; High attenuation, noise]
"A[noise]s! Go back to your seat!"
::[./High pitched scream noted during message]

"..." [sigh] "Bye"

[End transmission]

...

Erase? [Y/N]

Rant party

Clearly, people of this planet wish to peek deeper inside my life.

Here's your prize.

Teh Summer of

It takes a lot of work; a big, juicy bottle of concrete effort to wake up early in the morning. And with nothing to do but wait for college to commence, I made it my mission to do so.
I started waking up at no later than 12:30 PM the first day on. No sweat.

Later in the mornings of the post meridiem, I decided to watch some quality news -- what better to serve my appetite than IndiaTV?

And serve my appetite it did. I cannot thank God enough for my decision to switch to that holy channel. How else would I have been enlightened on the deep, political, cold-war-ish issues of the universe? How else would I have learned that life-forms from light-years away seek to dip cookies in milk?


I say a channel of the stature of IndiaTV should be celebrated. No other channel dares to contemplate a risk so supereme. No other channel delivers as much as this.
And as far as my beliefs go, I feel the owner of this sacred breed of electronic media should be awarded a Nobel Peace Prize. Not only has this noble man changed the face of Indian news by showcasing crap events from all around the galaxy, he has done his part to serve Mother Earth. By brilliantly executing news production of such awe worthy stories, he has told us that our planet serves a deeper, meaningful purpose in this ever-expanding universe -- milk production.
And soon after his efforts to advertise Cows in deep space suffice, we will become the №.1 supplier of dairy and dairy based products in the entire galaxy.

But for the owner of such a heralded organization, marketing a planet isn't enough.

He also does all that he can to ensure prevalence of safety amongst civilians by fighting crime in his own, wonderful way. He dresses up hires fake detectives and policemen to solve the most complex crimes with ease, assisting the actual police force in the process.

Now, which other channel does that? Which other channel goes as far as to buy police costumes? Which other channel points fingers in all directions when there's a murder? "YOU! or YOU! EVEN YOU COULD BE THE FREAKIN' CRIMINAL WHO BRUTALLY MURDERED THAT PERSON WITH A BLUNT KNIFE AFTER DRINKING A BEER AND SMELLING SOME PERFUME!"

So remember kids, IndiaTV is here to help you when you're about to get killed.
Next time something goes awkwardly out of hand, you know what to dial. Not 1-0-0. +91-120-3051000. That's where the real cops are.

...

And that's all I did this summer.
Apart from shredding some Stratocaster metal and working up some Python. And traveling to the west. And the south, briefly. And going live! twice.

*Packs bags for college*

Pshaw

"So..you're back."

Maybe.

"What do you mean?"

I'm not sure if I'm really here or not.

"You look here to me."

I don't know. Don't you already know how confused I am? I'm confused. Very confused.

"You're definitely back. That's a signal."

Signal shmigmal. I don't know!
I might be at some sort of recovery stage, if that counts as 'here'.

"I'm confused."

Yes, I am.

Hold the phone

You don't have to be a l33t-nerd to know this guy. You don't have to smell of silicon to know what he did. You don't even have to know all your keyboard shortcuts to know his name, because he made it possible for you to run your computer with your mouse.

He resides somewhere in Washington, but if you wear your glasses right, you know he is pretty much everywhere.
He is probably part of your computer's operating system, or your web browser. He might even be in your swank ol' HTC cellphone. He's probably even with you right now, as you read this. He is present here, as I write this down.

But now, he'll be everywhere but at Microsoft. He sort of retires, today.

His name is William, but you call him Bill.

To the batmobile!

Obviously, newsmakers have no idea where to draw the line ¹ . They have this hugely insane idea about trading in paranoia for some shiny new TRP. So, the new round of their daily whatever circles around the Earth exploding sometime in 2012. Until, the next day, when they want you to believe that the Earth is imploding. That, until totally unconfirmed reports ² suggest that the Sun is going to crash into our planet. And now, for some reason, they want you to think that the Maya Calendar holds secrets to the future of the Earth's civilization.

Well, all these speculations and "rumors" educe me, and I guess it's up to me to save the planet, again.

..

Pedal to the metal in my Factsmobile, I'm at the Maya station.
Now, first and foremost, let me silence the people who believe that the Maya Long Count Calendar ends on December 21, 2012 -- it doesn't. What does actually occur, is the completion of the 13th B'ak'tun cycle. Which, according, to the Mayans, may represent "a transition from the current Creation world into the next". Well, mic check.

In this age we are approaching the same count again, only there is a common misconception of the Maya's practice of abbreviating their dates to five vigesimal places. According to the Maya there will be a baktun ending in 2012, a significant event being the end of the 13th 394 year period, but not the end of the world. ³

..

Next stop, 'The Collision'.
Now, I don't want all the news channels to count the numbers in The Bible and cook up an algorithm that predicts an asteroid collision, as done by the author of 'The Bible Code', but if you're still betting on the asteroid, 16.6 million miles is as close as you're going to get. According to NASA, some space rock called the four-hundred-something Eros is going to pass by the blue planet. Which is cool by me, because it does so almost every 846 days.

So now, you can cross the collision off the list. 16.6 million miles is definitely a clean pass. But kudos to the author, for pressure cooking the algorithm to predict something on the asteroid line. You were good, but your calculations were just a wee bit off.

..

See now, this one's just plain hilarious.
"The Sun crashing into the Earth", and I cite that from some news channel's headline. Now, you don't need to be well versed with the teachings of astrophysics or any sort of super-sci-fi lingo to tell that stars aren't particularly bright when it comes to locomotion ⁴ . And you definitely do not need to be told that the Sun is a star. Do you see what I'm saying here?
You were taught in 5th grade what Galileo had a hard time explaining -- the Earth moves around the sun, not the other way around. Plus, if the Sun was going to collide with the Earth, what would happen to our hot little tykes, Mars and Venus? It's a shame no one ever thought of that.
Another point you should probably note is that if the Sun was ever to undergo such a sudden, massive movement, the entire galaxy's gravitational balance would be disturbed, and such a thing could only be accomplished if the galaxy's gravitational balance would suddenly, and massively, be disturbed. Just a minor Catch-22, here.

..

The apocalypse? I'll take a look in 2040, again ⁵ .
One more thing -- only Apple product launches are meritorious of such widespread speculation.

.....

1. Do I really need to ring it in your ears all over again? ^
   
2. The "reports" are from some weird guy's dream. Apparently, he sees the world's end, there. He also checks out the calendar in time to find he was sleeping in 2012. ^
   
3. [via] ^
   
4. They do move, albeit smoothly enough to go unnoticed, or create rampant changes. ^
   
5. What Newton said. (From an old newspaper report. I can't help but be skeptical about this.) ^
   

31 days later

Well, that's it. Mr. Jobs has done it, all over again.
In an ever so spectacular, completely-sold-out, applause-ridden performance, Jobs announced the new and improved iPhone 3G, an upgrade to the OS X, and a candy box of other cool things.
But what's really cool is that the new and improved iPhone 3G will be faster, highly secure on networks, provide more push email clients, contain a GPS receiver, have a shinier back, a flush 3.5mm headphone jack and will offer a scientific calculator! ¹

And there's just one more thing -- it's going to sell for just $199 ² .

A point to note, here. When Jobs put together the price part, he mentioned it would be a maximum of $199 in almost all of the countries it's going to be shipped to. That's 70 countries worldwide.
Now, going by the current exchange rates, that translates to around just Rs.8,000 in India.
Is that really possible? Eight grand for a piece of technology that is probably more advanced than everything else we know? 8K for a new iPod+phone+hand-held internet browser+gaming device?
It seems highly unlikely, because it's just a little over the edge than the cheapest iPod we have in India. But if the translation is correct, it's is going to murder the competition, in the most literal and brutal sense.

Anyway, it was a great show, and at 1.18 gigs, it's pretty heavy, too. Oh, and seemingly, by this rate, we'll be immortal 10 WWDCs later.

.....

1: That's part of the new iPhone version 2.0. It also includes the much anticipated AppStore, amongst other things.^

2: That's minus the now forced AT&T (or respective) 2-year carrier contract.^

Time zones

Four hours later, the world will be what it has never been. Four hours later, San Fransisco will see the time India already saw. But four hours later, San Fransisco will see something India is yet to have a glimpse of.

Four hours later, WWDC is going to kick off, upgrading mobility as we know it -- the iPhone's going to celebrate it's second birthday way before time.
While that's one interesting aspect we are certain will occur, there's precisely 931.2 kilograms of questions waiting to be answered. However, the question that takes up most of the weight revolves around the surprise (rumored, expected) appearance of the 3G iPhone. Apart from that, nobody knows for sure whether OS X is up for an upgrade, either. And it's a tight secret as to what Apple might offer as an answer to the Microsoft Surface. What about the new multi-touch patent we saw? Any upgrades to the Mini? New iPods?!An all new turtleneck?What about the graphics processor?!The speech!

Monday mornings have never been so enticing.

*Live coverage via Engadget.

School

I used to be afraid of the Boards. I used to be in 12th grade. I used to have fun during class. I used to wear a blue uniform. I used to wear a couple of badges. I used to rap in corridors. I used to draw on my backpack. I used to have mommy-made lunches. I used to doodle on desks. I used to sneak my cellphone to class at times. I used to have secret crushes everyone knew about. I used to get dressed and ready for school in 15 minutes.

I used to be in school.

Now, I'm not.

I'm a ronin. At least until I have somewhere to go to.

Damn.

Blood

There once was a girl who went to bed with dreams in her eyes. There was a girl who would find herself being a synonym of joy. She would pick up a few flowers coming home on the way from school. She would study hard and bring an apple for her teacher.
When she went home, she brought a glow with her. The walls would cheer up and scream with glee.

But one day, there was no scream. Only silence where glee should have been.

You know what?
I can't write this. It's too freaking painful. It bleeds to know that Aarushi was killed that day. It pierces my mind with a silver bullet to know that there is a human being alive, on this very planet, who can kill people. It burns my veins to know that there is a police department that is as dull as a box of hair. It is just plain disgusting to see that the effing press is...

The Police
Alright. These guys just blow it.
I don't even need to remind you how "safe" our country already is. And then there's the NOIDA Police - the absolutely perfect combination of lethargy and stupidity. These guys operate on a whole new level of obtuse intelligence. A level so effing advanced, it is scary and disturbing at the same time.

Anywhere else in the world, the whole area would've been sealed; not a soul would have been allowed to set foot past the yellow tape. Anyone noted to be passing that area frequently would automatically find himself on the list of suspects.

But these guys have a whole new thing going on; a whole other strategy in mind. They don't want to seal the area. Oh no. They want everybody there. They've left doors open to the murder scene. "Go ahead everybody, tamper with the evidence! You from the press? Go ahead, toy with the blood-soaked mattress!"

You want me and countless other people not to tell you how to do your job? Then do it right. It doesn't take a neurosurgeon to figure out what to do at the scene of a homicide.

The Media
How dare you? How dare you?
Who gave you the right to show blood on air? Who was it? I need to know because there's an effing censor board for movies and TV that keeps them from showing anything disturbing. Alright. Forget that. Do you even know why there's a censor board? It's because real, actual human beings watch those movies and TV shows. When there's a group of people who decide there are certain things that must not be shown on TV, it's because they don't people of their nation to pick up things like smoking.

"The Girl's bedroom secrets". Bedroom secrets? Bedroom secrets?
What kind of sick freaks are you? You want to sell this story, too?

I don't know who's monitoring content on your side. I don't know why you show the kind of explicit material that you do. But what you're doing is not right. And if this country ever fails to succeed, you will be responsible.
That's right, IndiaTV. I'm talking to you.

And forget monitoring your stupid, effing content. Who on this planet told you to swarm inside the Talwar's garage? Who told you take a shot of the blood-ridden walls of that house? Who the eff told you to broadcast dead people on live TV? I am shocked to see the police didn't care, but are you guys completely in over your heads? You really think this will sell? Well, let me tell you. Nobody, and I mean nobody wants to see the crap you dish out. The last thing we want to
see when someone is killed, is their blood. So next time something like this happens, just broadcast a minute of silence, okay?

What's that? You're not going to take my advice? No?
Well, Karma's a bitch.

As for Aarushi...a minute of silence.

Change for a dollar?

Nope. It's for free.

12

You know what the problem with the Indian education system is?
It swims like a brick in mindless waters.

Let me explain with an example, if I may. In fact, let's call it a minor comparison, shall we?
In the USA, there are no standardized school examinations. What you got an A+ for in a particular high school test, might only qualify to be a C- in the same test in another high school. Hence, you are required to give the SAT, which helps colleges determine where you stand, on a leveled plane. Ergo, colleges get to decide whether you're good enough for them or not, because you're getting tested on a national level. That's national, as in everybody in that country and/or everyone who shows up for that aptitude test.

In India, however, numerous ingredients appear to be out of place. At least to me.
They teach you different flavors of pretty much the same thing every year, and test your varying knowledge on whatever you've been taught. Come tenth, and more importantly, twelfth, CBSE (or ICSE, the State) begins to fiddle around and calls in the Board examinations. These tests, unlike their predecessors, are standardized, and pretty much leveled, too. Here, what you get an A for, is not something someone else will get an F for, for doing the same thing in another place.

Now, here's the problematic part.
If they've already set a standard, why do they continue to question us to determine which college we're good enough to set foot into? They've already tested our pencil scribbling skills on a national level, so why do they take all the weekends off of April and May to get us to
scribble some more?

Boy, they must really like us. They want our pictures, our signatures, and our fingerprints, too.

Trouble is...we don't like them.

Troubled times

I think I've stepped into this small island in the middle of a large, possibly eternal ocean with nothing but a palm tree to cling to.

Wait, what was I saying?

My environment has begun to have a highly reactive effect on me. Everything I do, see or hear is constantly monitored and filtered by whatever it took to raise me to seventeen. As a result, I am a silent assassin to mainstream media who doesn't really do his job, but ends up arousing hatred for his foe.

Wait, what?

The so-called Board exams were over almost a month ago, but if you wear spectacles, you will observe that they still tend to go on, picking up a different name on the way.
Entrance tests almost have me on the edge of my seat, and I'm almost studying, which is troublesome, because this way, I will almost get into college, let alone something in the Indian Ivy League.

Damn.

But, what's really weird is me sitting down to document it on the web.
[you should be studying]
(you should be writing)
{you should try and manage stuff}
•why don't you shut up•
I'm going to sleep
:I don't need you:
//yeah, I hate you, too.

Wait, this doesn't look right.
Hold on, let me delete this...

Nothing special here

I thought it would bring out anarchy and chaos. I thought people would gasp in disbelief, and say "say it ain't so!". I thought people would tell their friends, and their friends would tell their friends, and they would tell their friends to comment on my post and beg me not to stop.

But while I was dreaming, people were busy not paying too much attention to it.
And so, the April Fool's project didn't go as well as planned, with only a minute percentage of the populus daring to check and find that the hoax was a hoax.
However, the '100th post' chunk wasn't a lie. So if you read that earlier and thought it was a mere prank, do spray a little confetti into your surroundings in celebration of my hundredth post.

Now forget whatever I said above this sentence, and push yourself into today.

Toodles

Hundred is a very special number to people. I know someone who feels that way. You probably do, too.
And when it comes to typing my hundredth blog post, I can't help but be part of this tradition.

It is a very special day, indeed. Not just because this is my hundredth blurb, but also because today is the first day after the completion of school. I am through with their examinations. I am done with their Boards. We've waved each other a nice goodbye. One that makes you want to say 'hello' again.

Anyway, since this is the hundredth post, I am forced to treat it with a little extra importance. And with treating it so, there is an important announcement I'd like to make.

I am not going to blog anymore.

I never knew I'd have to say it so soon, but they've told me that there is no better time than now.

So, adiós muchachas, and adiós muchachos. It has been extremely prodigious contributing my thoughts to the Internet, where not many people cared.

Good night everyone, and thank you for coming. This is your host for the evening, abhas1.

O grammar, where art thou?

Straight out of your daily dose of news.

The first day, again

*ting*

This is your captain on board the Boeing a19, and we're just 30 some days away from our destination. However, we seem to have run into somewhat turbulent winds so I'll have to ask you to fasten your seatbelts.
I hope you enjoy your journey...and uh...stay cool.

[crackle]
*ting*

What you asked for

You know what people do when they see someone win, grow, or go through with any synonymous term? People congratulate them. They support them, and spray goodwill in the air nearby.
But that's not what you do in India.
When you see someone play a game of tennis, more better than worse, you begin to despise them. Surprisingly, you enroll your kids into tennis coaching. You put out falsetto pornogs on the internet. Perverts. Suddenly, fatwas pop out of nowhere, and you begin attacking them for playing tennis the way it is played. How smart. You threaten their doctors and send out letters that read: "U b3tt4 n0t cure HeR, cUz SH3's being IrRelIgIoUs an' shit. PlUS we'LL kill YOU too." in broken english. Give me one religion that tells you not to save a life. Not only that, you also attack them for every time they lose. Come out on the field and show me what you got. And then, when they're back, you take pictures of them with their feet on a table, and spew out a whole new problem. Amazing how the flag was positioned far away, and even showed up blurry in the picture. Focal length, anyone? Oh yeah, and then this dude shows up on TV and says "She's just playing for sympathy". Aren't you bouncing on television for short-lived fame?

Pshaw, now don't be shocked Sania's not going to play in India anymore. You should be happy.
This is what you asked for.

Ten forty and the art of zen

Days like today don't come and go every day. They show up at your door only once, and even though they don't ring the bell twice, they tend to last long enough to remember. It's like a melodious series of events, really. A lot like life. In a nutshell.

Today, the calendar informed me that there isn't much time for school to end. Coincidentally, it'll take just as much time for everything else to begin, as they say.
But hasn't everything already begun?

Ponder.

Brushes

(click on image for a higher resolution)

Just like in India..
By Kris Wilson.

Transmission

Well, it's a shame to be a boy.

The picture tube told me that more than fifty guys got together and assaulted a couple of women. But that's no biggie, I've read about similar incidents in the paper. It's just that there was a slight difference in the number of guys when I last read something like that. Maybe there was a different locale, too, because I don't recall anything like this happening outside a 5-star hotel.
But apart from that, it's pretty much a familiar memory, and so is police action. They feel they've read and heard enough of the same report over and over again, and it's really no biggie. It's just, you know, molestation, everyday thing, kinda.

Maybe this is why Indian families long for a male child. So that he can grow up and molest people. So that he would get a fair share of wedding gifts (read dowry). Maybe it's because there's some sort of imaginary superiority in them; that somehow scoring a goal against the home team would help.

Don't blame me, I'm not spreading hate propaganda. It's not my fault soap scripts are deep fried in this oil. I'm not responsible if 1 in 5 movies tends to showcase this. If they're lying, and social evil has completely been eliminated, then you better strap that television set to a pack of dynamite, and light the fuse.
And if they've got the truth on TV, then it sure as hell is better to be bubbly like our scooters.