The randomness of my life just doesnt cease..I do things I dont know what for. really arbit things excite me when i need to be really studying hard for my exams which loom large only a few days ahead...Exams..the test of our knowledge..or is it??
I mean..just right now..I am reading some random blogs of people I dont even know and even more random posts on PG when i havnt even started with my CAT prep...all this while my head n hair stinks of an obnoxious concoction of curds, coconut oil and lemon juice....why??? well, lets just say my mom had loads of free time at hand and I, being her first-born, happen to be her favourite guniea pig!!

Watched Babasaheb Purandare's "Jaanta Raja" yesterday at Shivaji park. And yes, the Queen's language would fail to do any justice to this topic..so lemme start in my mother-tongue.
Kaal "Jaanta Raja"chya shubharambhacha prayog baghitla...pan "baghne" ha shabd ithe faar chukicha vaatto...toh ek experience hota...ek asa anubhav jo pratyekane ekda tari anubhavava..
te baghtanna..manaat ek chaos hota...thakk karun sodnaara ek chitran hota te..pan tyahunhi vichaar karayla laavnare anek prashna hote tyat!!

Shivaji maharaj he maharashtracha daivat....tyancha abhimaan pratyek marathi mansala aahe (ho, high-lighted kes ani kaanat dul ghalnarya marathi mulala dekhil!!) Pan maharashtra la swarajya ani surajya milvun denyaat eka stree cha sinvhacha vaata aahe...

Jar Jijabainni swarajyachi swapna pahilich nasti tar??
Adilshah chya darbari ruzu aslelya aaplya kartabgaar pati che 'sardar' asnyaatch tyanni dhanyata maanli asti tar??
Shivba var jar tyanche sanskaar naste tar kharach pudhe jaun Shivaji maharaj....neetivant, kulvant, varadvant, samarthyavant zale aste??

Aaj jya maharashtrat aapan svattahachi janmabhoomi samjun rahtoy..tee aapli rahili asti? maharashtra ek hindu rajya rahila asta?? ki adilshahi, nizamshahi kinva delhi chya mogulanchi jahagir zali asti...ekhadi Islamic state?? aani kaal jya maidanat "Jaanta Raja"cha prayog pahila..jithe majha balpan gela, tya jagecha naav Shivaji Park asta??

Pan apan kharach 'nalayak' tharlo...Shivaji rajanchi aathvan varshatun ekda kaadhto..te hi janma tithi var vaad ghalayla....sarkari sutti milte mhanun..nasti tar tehi kela nasta.(Shanivar-ravivar la jodun yeil toh divas tharavatat..ka tar.."soy" mhanun). Shivaji raje aata fakt "soy" mhanun rahilet ka??
Pu La jase 'Hari tatya' madhye mahanale hote....aaj-kal chya modern kutumbaat..10 divsanchya ganpaticha lodging-boarding parvadat naslyamule toh 1 1/2 divsaanvar aanlay..te tari ka tar..mulanvar changle sanskaar na ghadlyacha aal yeu naye mhanun. Rahile fakt upkara karita...saarkhach aata..rahile fakt soyee purta!!

Orkut chi katkat!!

Orkut zalay jaam addictive, savay tyachi sutat nahi,
Pan scrapping kartanna kuthetari, sanwaad saadhna rahun gela...

Mitranna "testimonials" lihilya anek,
Pan aai-babanna "love you" mhanaycha rahun gela...

"Buzz" marlyavar mitrane, "hi" mazha tayar ase,
Pan damlelya babanna paani dyaycha rahun gela...

Bhaubeej yanda "scraps" madhunach, tasech diwali-dasara,
Samor basvun, mothya bhavala owalna rahun gela...

Mahinyatun ekda "wassup??" cha scrap, tari mhane amhi, "In touch"!!
SP chya kattyavar, fad jamvun, "gazalya" marna rahun gela...

Chaar bhintit adkavun svattahala, guntle me svattaha madhye,
Ya jeevanatach guntle itke, jagaycha rahun gela...

Look ma, one more crappy poem.

Okay!! Wrote this about two months back...but frankly speaking, I am ashamed of it. Even thought of disowning this baby of mine..but then, "What the heck!!", good or bad, it DID come out of me..err my mind. It is supposed to be a poem but turns prose-ish towards the end..even the rhyme scheme goes for a toss then and it does end quite abruptly too. So, the question is why should you read it in the first place??? Hmm............ah, well....ahem...why dont u just read the damn thing????? So, here's presenting the saddest one by far..

"These are a few of my favourite things" (Yeah, yeah...even the title is dhapoed)

An idle Sunday,
A shiny May day.
Showers in June,
Cool winds over hot sand dunes.

A hike to a hill-top,
Sweaty n tired, till ready to drop.
Forts and ruins, the forgotten history,
Wonder n amaze at the surreal mystery.

Dozens of cutting coffees, all shared,
Munna's bread pakodas too, not spared.
Debates n discussions in a lively din,
Some succeeding, some going straight to the bin.

Three in an umbrella, pushing each other out,
Late night calls with exam fever n doubts.
Last paper relief, the high n joy !
Cheap matinee movies with friends, Oh boy !!

For boring lectures, sedation - the antidote,
Writing crappy poems, when others take down notes.

You still reading???? God!! you are more jobless than i ever thought ;)).......may He save you!

Ok guys!! You can stop sending out those obituaries… I am still alive, just suffering from selective amnesia where I keep forgetting I have a blog and I am supposed to update it every once in a while. God!! I go missing for a few days and people get all panicky...blogging isn’t the only thing I do...I am quite a busy bee you know….I know, I know this blog is like a lifeline for you…the only ray of hope in your otherwise dark, dull and wretched lives...but the next time I go missing, please don’t bother me with phone calls n orkut scraps...just go n ask Oprah!! Phew… What a thankless job this is!!
Hehehe...who am I kidding?? Apart from a few loyal friends (3 to be precise), nobody bothers to read this crap of mine and me busy?? Yeah right...warming the chair infront of my pc, for so long...that it will soon burn in a hole and I will fall through. But yeah ...blogging makes me feel good and about someone reading it or not?? As if I care…(actually I do, hence I blog.....wow..so much for my self-esteem!)
Ok,here’s a poem I wrote at 2 at night…God knows why I can’t think straight the whole day and suddenly get this so-called 'creative inspiration' at unearthly hours!!

A tear peeping from the gates of her eyes,
A smiling face with emotions it belies.
A hand that shivers as it touches the screen,
A bond so strong by forces unseen.

It began with an email, on a shiny morn,
With photos of her grandchild, newly born.
She yearned to hold him, hug him tight,
Gush over him without respite.

His tiny feet in her wrinkled hands,
but he was far away in a foreign land.
A land of dreams, they say, it was,
Young sons from old mothers, it draws.
It fulfills the dreams, of all those who mattered,
But the day her son left, hers were shattered.

Reduced to a spectator in their lives, was she now,
She wondered when this happened, why and how.
She longed for their sight, sound n touch.
Emails, calls n money transfers didn’t serve much.

Will I ever see my blood again, she wondered.
Or live this lonely life just longing, she pondered.
May be my life wasn’t worth a visit here.
She wondered atleast if her death would be luckier.

Blessing that newborn, with all the love n care.
She walked away, with clouded vision that could no longer stare.

Ziddi hum bhi yahan....

Years of rigid mentalities, deep-rooted mindsets and the stubborness of never to change.
I refuse to accept them. I refuse to follow the old, foolproof , oft-trodden way. Refuse to submit myself to this system wherein others decide my fate. Whatever happened to "you are the maker of your own destiny ?" And what exactly is destiny?? An already-laid-down map which we have to follow or something that we build along the way because of the choices that we make?
Submission to their decisions....thats what they wish for.."accept it mutely and follow without even raising an eyebrow. Do we see your mouth opening to complain?..shut it then n there"
Nah!! Not anymore..How many voices will they kill? Their muffled sounds would still make a noise!

I will do it because I can.
I can because I want to.
I want to because you said I couldn't.

Even if everyone says you dont stand a chance, don't give up on your dreams...'coz courage isn't in doing something when you know you will win, but doing it inspite of knowing you may lose!!

Generation..Loose Control?

Read Anandan’s article on Aamir Khan today. The lady seemed clearly cynical about all the recent happenings. One would get the idea that Khan is suffering from ‘attention-deficiency’ syndrome or something. She cites his example as a claim to fame and is clearly upset over his media-hogging venture.

I would say… give him a break guys…Just how many ‘stars’ can you name who would climb down from their ‘galaxies’ to help mere mortals? I don’t know if Aamir is really genuine about his commitment to this cause or not and I would be very much upset like millions of his fans if this whole thing turns out to be just a gimmick tomorrow.. but as of now cant we just start being a little less cynical and a little more encouraging about the whole matter?

I know. I know this is still my ‘rang de basanti’ hangover speaking…and I pray may I never get over with this one. When was the last time a movie took you to a place so real to your own, so much like your own college katta with characters so much like your friends..when their dialogues seem to be something you might have mouthed..sometime, anytime. When was the last time you cried with them, for them … felt indifferent like they are, felt helpless like did and for one shinning moment, felt proud as if it was your greatest achievement. The overwhelming response to the movie just goes on to show that the youth of today though quite self-sufficient and clear about what they want from life are still grappling in the dark for some real heroes, some inspiration, some passion in their lives…a cause to live for…to die for.

It’s easy …

..to be indifferent.
..to say ‘nothing ever changes’….its far more difficult to ‘be the change’.
..to standby and just watch from the sides.
..to turn a blind eye, a deaf ear and walk away…it takes courage to speak up.
..to be one among the crowds…serves as a perfect camouflage isn’t it?

Don’t know what more to write..feeling a bit numb after letting out these feelings
Found this poem at the back of wren n martin in 8^th std. And couldn’t ever forget these lines..hope you like it too.

Breathes there the man, with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own, my native land?
Whose heart hath ne’er within him burn’d.
As home his footsteps he hath turn'd;
From wandering on a foreign strand?
If such there breathe, go, mark him well;
For him no Minstrel raptures swell;
High though his tides, proud his name,
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim;
The wretch, concentrated all in self,
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
And, doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust, from whence he sprung.
Unwept, unhonour’d, and unsung.
--Scott

What temperment are you??

Wow...I seem to be suffering from a serious bout of Writer's bloc. Cant think of anything sensible to write about..but then when did I start making sense huh?? exams tomorrow and I am out here doing pure lukkhagiri..LONG LIVE THE ELEVENTH HOUR QUEEN!!

CHECK THIS OUT..

You Have a Choleric Temperament

You are a person of great enthusiasm - easily excited by many things. Unsatisfied by the ordinary, you are reaching for an epic, extraordinary life. You want the best. The best life. The best love. The best reputation. You posses a sharp and keen intellect. Your mind is your primary weapon. Strong willed, nothing can keep you down. Your energy can break down any wall. You're an instantly passionate person - and this passion gives you an intoxicating power over others. At your worst, you are a narcissist. Full of yourself and even proud of your faults. Stubborn and opinionated, you know what you think is right. End of discussion. A bit of a misanthrope, you often see others as weak, ignorant, and inferior.

What Temperment Are You?