Mr.Guilty : Milord, Why cant i find my poetic afflatus in xkcd ?

Judge : Son, coz its not poetic. You really are a dissapoint.

Mr.Guilty      : I have an alibi, there is an apparent lack of poetic and poets in and around me. My ‘millennial generation’ is no good. I                        find myself going back to baby boomers. I want to drive to woodstock, have a better sexual freedom (may be hippy culture) and rock and roll.

I even know a friend who laments his millenial <damn it has a double ‘l’ and double ‘n’>generation.

Judge : there, there. Correct your english and we can have this discussion. You are having a S.A.D.

T.G : Objection milord, dont cut me off

J : Overruled

At this juncture , Ego, id and superego went whispering loudly.

J : Order, order. Maintain the decorum

T.G. : Why I feel that my writers’ block always fails in quality audit.
There is something missing, and I got to figure it out.
I need to do something today, there is a definite overwhelming somewhere in heart.
These long days and longer nights. The morning dream song on this mind. It happens every day and some day.

Judge : Thats bullshit. When you are writing, how can you come up with ur writer’s block

T.G.    : I meant the quality…

Judge: Nay its absolute thing. Its a binary number, 0 or 1. Have you ever heard someone saying, my writers b. is so big that i can make

lay stone for writers street.

Mr. guilty : Good idea

E, S.e. and id : This is going nowhere. The person is wasting time of court. Cut the crap. We want to be out of here.

Guilty(sings): And when I close these eyes

I watch a high tide, and dark getting wide
The only sound of that fan outside
and this soul inside.

These alphabets are feral and wild
You tame them, You pet them.
But they get lost, whenever you surmise.

All these things that we write, it looks so bright,
I hear some words in my head, I hear some songs in my ears,

we go to raffles hall to drink orange juice, how i missed orange juice @ Raffles Hall. Its a rheotoric question, dont answer it. In the meantime relishing bread pakoda one discusses startup ideas,lets say it was a varied mixup of people. People from software industry, wireless industry, PhD from pharmaceuticals and computational biology. Let the ideas get rolling. Computational biology sounds pretty interesting though. Whatever happened to the genome project of Google.

And then you join birthday party of a friend and are greeted by compulsory neat shot of 70% polish brandy. Brandy !! Oh boy. That burn !!

You end up with party going full on, with Punjabi songs blame it on slow buffer speed of NUS. And man you dont use ie on alienware. And after 3-4 neat shots of absolut you are left with tipsy feeling and a will to jot down something.Rush back to toom, leaving noises  in middle on 19th floor. Blame it also on the altercations with hostel authorities.

Oh how I missed writing !!There are still books waiting to be acknowledged, Ishiguro’s and issacson’s.

Fuck I cant even type correctly !! Blame it on shots! I reiterate getting drunk and writing don’t go together.

Listening to Smiths, and spending an hour at gym, and listening to thievery corp Lebanese blonde and thinking of HIG. Ha ha there is a hint for you Abhiroop. I got to have that 10k dollars of startup thing

Now now back @ 3:49 morning

Next day:

No that 3:50 morning didn’t came, I played “jo bhi main” in loop and dozed off. 45 times it played before the laptop cell got discharged.

Ever since I landed in Singapore the days went off in jiffy, and night outs. My last 4 days sleeping time is 3:50, 5:30, nightout,

Jan 5  Thank you mr fog, night out @ MGS

Jan 6  Buds budday. Night Out@KOL

Jan 7  KOL to SGP, Night out@Airport

Jan 8 Jamming till 4:30

Jan 9 Sleep @ 6. Some Insead PhD indian prof, thou art so boring at teaching man. What was the module name? Identifying tech startups or something.

Jan 10 Sherlock Holmes II. Fuck yeah !! Lets run now with swoosh. Screw you ACL injury. Real time system is not bad.

Jan 11 Girl with dragon tattoo. Swedish version seriously better. Disruptive technology I am enamored !

Jan 12 Folks from undergrad college turn over. Surprisingly it was undergrad module.

Jan 13 Starwars I and II . No I am not seeing “Players” I have fond memories of Italian job. No “optimization of wireless system” is undoable. Prof #1 is too not ready to teach linear programming. Scrabble \m/

Jan 14 Biz plan + 4 security guards. Night out

Jan 15 5:30 morning, fuck blocked nose

Jan 16 Gym. Hoo haa !! B’day party…3:50

Jan 17 writing this blog-post

I guess this semester will also blow off in similar manner. Thoughts come in jitter. It is still some time before you reminiscence old days. Stop this mood now. You have some eight books from the library. Lets forget hacking and linux stuff, man you have 3 books on Joyce, what else can you ask for. Joycian!! Rishiraj u jelly ?

Jhak maar ke !!

So last day of year was pretty much happening. We guys from school met over @ Assi Ghat after , hmmm , 8 long years in a group. It was all fun and frolic. Reliving the old school days, and what better place then ghats of Ganges, and some darn awesome food and apple pie.

Rishi bought few books, ‘When we were orphans’ by Kazuo Ishiguro and he bought few Haruki Murakami. This harmony book stall is pretty rich and diverse in collection. And there was a firang lady, she was dressed impeccably in indian traditionals and spoke immaculate hindi. She was sweet and literature savvy, one cant ask for more. Well read she was, having read all of Murakami, Rushdie and Ishiguros. You know better what I am thinking.So two done from seven books by Ishiguro. Ulysses thou wait thy reader.

BTW test of compatibility level 1. “ChetanBhagat is an awesome writer naa?”

Another day of playing scrabble, we should have played more of it during school days. Being in the family of Brahmins, where chicken is strict no-no, still I got my own cabal of non-vegetarians. Hew haw. Infiltrating the family !

There were few junior cousins, in their first and second year of graduation, but then games discussion is age-free. Call of duty, need for speed and grand theft auto. They are omnipresent

@B-14, Varanasi.

New year is around the corner. One more day to go.  But if I say it frankly, changing of dates has never encited me. Especially all the associated hoo-haa with it, defeats me everytime. The world going beserk, the crazy parties, more like a forced entertainment. Nay do not yield to this force. Ilegtimiti-non-carborundum.

Now that I have started playing scrabble, I really should store the words with q,z,x and w. I obtained another Ayn Rand’s magnificence- Fountain head. And thanks to Knight, biography of Steve Jobs by Waterson. Believe me it is as thick as a stump of tree. It shows 3:02 AM at digital clock below, and 12:40ish on the analog wall clock. What is the deal with this world time. I still do not understand.

While I was driving scooter to Rishi’s palce, in a parallel world some guy was riding an Italian scooter, probably white with hint of blue in Italy. I should really go to Italy. May be it is time to apply for PhD @ ETH. And euro-tour is done. Amen !

Coming back to joy of reading, there is a certain pleasure in reading classics, the joy of raw writing, the intertwined piece of beauty in the alphabets. They don’t write like that anymore. Its beauty, sheer beauty.

As Joyce paraphrased,

“Ad pulchitudinem tria requiruntur integritas, consonantia, claritas”…Aquinas

Three things are needed for beauty, wholeness, harmony and radiance.

1)   Wholeness aka integritas:

the quality of writing, It is a world of its own, it has a certain flavor, a certain charm, a certain manner. Each pertaining to its writer.Its like the verses have a solu of their own.

2) Harmony aka consonantia:

A piece of writing is suppose to bring out the time, the feeling, the truth of the era in which it was written. It is in harmony with the space and time.

3)  Radiance aka claritas

Now radiance is kind of vague, but it is the feeling of ‘whatness of the thing’- the quiddatas. When the heart feels about the art, and is left enchanted with it. Like the mine was enchanted by the “A portrait of the artist as a young man”.

Book-tender, Pour in  more Joyce for me please !!

Feeling my lost heart again. It had been quite a long time since I was lost in affairs of heart. Come December, and some thing moved inside. I was expecting it though, but yeah survived it. May be this blog is too worldy for these kind of words. So period.

So that means I am left with financial engineering description and Wiki your way to understand this. But a moment of epiphany came, everything ends up as mathsman !! It is so intriguing, I mean the maths is so omnipresent.

I bow to thee.

Your power is unlimited and you are omniscient.

I take this moment, to extend my token of gratitude to the all the mathematicians that were, that are and that will be.

No I am not high.

And the moon is so artistic tonight, just a sweep of brush over the black landscape. It is white, and a not just white but a pure white. A streak of magnificence across the dark dark sky.

This day.Hmmm nothing much here. Just sitting in quilt with no agenda, no work. Chillax it was. Getting out only to be greeted by awesome awesome chicken by Ammi.Yum.

Talking of Chandigarh and Panchkula, it is always pleasure to see such logically and beautifully developed city in India. Good job Mr. Frechman.

And yeah that son-ov-a went 1100 Kms all alone to Ladakh. DivX #respect

Dillidarshan, one down. Thanks teenage philosopher!After all these years of moving around in capital, it never chanced upon me to see the other side of Delhi, the splendor of Mughals, the aura of capital of India since centuries.Strange eh?

QutubMinar. I think I loved the remnants around the site,Archaelogical survey of India has done a darn good job.The site was both enthralling yetfamiliar. It was warm and sunny and happy, as Liam puts in his lyrics.  A nice location to read and write, when you get saturated with words, gaze around, gulp from the history, remember how it used to happen in old arcane days.

A hint of urdu engravings adds to the charm, in its rich calligraphic form. It sure is work of art

Merry xmas folks !!

Now since I have been experiencing dilli ki sardi , so I didn’t have much chance to update the blog. Now sitting in a coffee joint at this busting metro station I have 20 minutes to do so.

One thing about delhi is you extreme of climates, unlike south India or Singapore. But yeah fashion sense has detoriated out here. You see any chick, and they all look same, with western clothing, black jackets, mascara. Nay sorry girls but this male is dissapoited. Or may be I should have been to better places. I always was supporter that chinks back there in Sikkim, knew how to carry a claothing, they had a sense and feel of fashion. Ofcourse you don’t wear slim jeans when your derriere is at revolt with your denim. There is a certain way of wearing boots and matching them elegantly. Girls you do not wear red belt with every piece of clothing you have your wardrobe. And what is wrong with the golden streaks aren’t you happy with the dark black trussles you got naturally, like the girl sitting opposite to me on this table. Yeah CCD is unnaturally full, it being Sunday + Christmas + evening prime time. You end up sharing your space, thanks for the laptop screen. You see when I usually ask for a power to look into minds of other, I want it one way only, I don’t want others to look into mine. Given you can read my writings, it is same thing as looking into my mind.

Now where is this Atul D, the chick has restricted my field of vision. Damn. Oh yeah did I forgot to add that cheques are in vogue. Ok I give she has beautiful eyes… Ok after ten minutes I take back my words, she has certain charm in her ways. God put a smile upon my face. Now that she has moved to three tables aloft, I get my space and a nice observation viewpoint. You sonovabitch, was that a smile.Mofo! But yeah she would definitely look better in black hair, that is for sure.

Ok Mr. KD will be arriving any minute now, prepare thyself to me switched off Mr. Wordprocessor. If only you had some AI, where you would have thought about yourself. Your existence in this piece of machine. How there is this one guy who uses you. Man, that will be some fucked up shite.

only you had some AI, where you would have thought about yourself. Your existence in this piece of machine. How there is this one guy who uses you. Man, that will be some fucked up shite.

This was marked with a house party at Parth Sarthi mansion, which I would call Playboy Mansion hereon. So Parth extended his hospitality and we got together, all old guys from graduate days. There were two gonna be MBAs from esteemed colleges of Delhi. A junior from engineering days, we lovingly call him Prosen after a particular Bengali actor. There was a lawyer from Amity law school, and he provided insight into the workings of law.

Now before I move on to serious stuff, Parth lives with a particular cook, Mr. Ramanand, who has been cooking for Sarthi’s for like four decades. And believe me he is master of kitchen. I had two full servings of delicious chicken. Since I was brought up as a Brahmin, non vegetarian was a strict no-no. Forget non-veg, even onion and garlic came under culinary blasphemy. But good thing about Mishra’s is they are not orthodox, so I have full freedom. You know the trust thing. Anyways ever since I started eating non vegetarian, I have now come to realize that home cooked chicken is the best. What restaurants serve cannot be compared with a home cooked chicken. It was utter delicious, and followed by bati-baigan ka chokha. One cant ask for more than this. Oh yes there was a regular whiskey, but now I am kind of getting bored with alcoholic beverages. Occasional drinking is the politically correct version.

It is kind of truth they say about low law IQ of us Indians, and the sad part being none of them are even interested in knowing the law. Now since we are the privileged class, and me doing PG along with others, other aspiring for MBA, few working in multinationals earning six figure income. The point that I am trying to extend is that since we educated guys are so unknown of the law system of India, you can not expect the others to be educated. It really is disappointing. Take this Anna Hazare’s lokpal bill, I didn’t knew that it has been implemented in Singapore way back in 70s.

I think a common man in India is happy with clichéd monotonous Bollywood movies, *ing any of the Khans, stupid reality shows serving toilet humor, and extravagant daily soaps. Make few lighted big malls, and lo you have thousands of footprints each day. But then I wonder what percentage of population is keen on doing something. You might say, dude, Fuck yeah, you been to some abroad college, and in twelve months you are passing judgments about your own country. Let us say being outside India opened my eyes, how things are different in different culture and countries. It was like when I roamed around India, out from UP, I learned the hospitality of Rajasthan, simplicity of Sikkim, life of Kolkata, what-was of Hyderabad? <it was some karmic debt kya? Kidding boss.>, utter efficiency of Chennai, and customs of Kerala. It has been a similar experience moving abroad, I wish I can mark every country here and then even this wish there were two or three more planets to roam; Yeah something like hitchhiker’s guide to galaxy.

Oh btw I finally tried joint. Yes nothing to worry , it was nothing I expected + 1-2 fags were not enough. So one more thing crossed. Bad ! I say it was.

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