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the innocent ramblings of a soporose lychnobite
Calvin & Hobbes
The Inheritance of Knowledge
Friday, 25 July 2014
As I stood by the window and watched the falling stars quietly
disappear near the horizon, I remembered the child in me who had stood in front
of his bedroom window gazing into the depths of a night that was probably more beautiful
than tonight.
There was nothing extraordinary in the air that night, years back. The
child’s uncle had fought with his aunt like every other night and had
banged the door on her face as he was leaving the house to spend the rest of
the night with his gambling and other intoxications, while she silently wept in
the kitchen. He couldn’t blame them much. After all, they were the ones who had adopted
him when he had become an orphan no sooner than when he had completed 10 brief
years on earth. His uncle was poor by inheritance, and lazy by nature, while
his aunt still hadn’t been able to get over her trauma of prostitution in her
early years. He was just another burden.
It was going to be another sleepless night for the child
whose heart had leapt with amazement as his eyes caught the brightest falling star
that he had ever seen. He had followed the streak of light which had grown
brighter every moment, to his utmost delight, and his gradually increasing
heart-beat.
And the ball of light had slowed down, before gracefully descending down
into the forest behind his home. Soon, it had disappeared.
For a long moment, the child had just stood there, still in
doubt about what he had just seen. But he had decided soon enough that he had
to investigate. Keeping aside all his fears, the child had ventured into the
unexplored forest in the dark of the night. And it had not taken him long to
discover the ball of light, as it had shone from far away. And there it was, as
the object shone brightly in the midst of the small crater that it had created
on impact. It was a thin rectangular piece of metal with a shining glass on one
side and it was no doubt the most magical object that he had ever seen. And it
had no doubt changed his life, even if the little child hadn’t known it then.
His hands had trembled in fear of the unknown, as they were reaching
out to retrieve the magical object. And as soon as he had picked it up, it had
stopped glowing. But the shining glass side had unexpectedly lit
up.
And the child had never forgotten what he had seen after that. Because it had shown him his future.
And the child had never forgotten what he had seen after that. Because it had shown him his future.
The child had seen himself travel by foot all the way to the sacred Eiheiji Temple founded by the great master Dogen.
The child had seen himself become accepted into the Temple, but only as a temple servant, learning and practicing the art of zazen in his free time.
The child had seen himself become drafted for war, and getting shot at and being left for dead during the Ruso Japanese war in 1904. But this was not the end. The child had also seen himself being rescued several days later under dozens of decaying bodies of his own compatriots.
The child had seen himself spending the rest of his life spreading his teachings of the art of meditation and Zazen, all over Japan, in universities and prisons without discrimination or distinction.
And yes. It had all come true.
A young voice behind him broke the comfort of silence and brought the child back
to the present moment, standing in front of his window watching the falling stars dissolve into the darkness of the horizon.
“Master Sawaki. I was told that you had send for me.” said
the voice of Taisen Deshimaru, the young disciple who was going to be my
successor.
"It is time," I thought to myself, "to pass on my gift to
the next generation."
I looked into the magic device in the palm of my hand that had been my companion
since I was a little child. The mystic calligraphic designs of the words ‘Asus’ and ‘Intel’
etched on to the device, gleamed back at me, almost as if to say, that it was the right thing to do.
And so I said, “Taisen. It is time for you to see, what others cannot
see. It is time for you to do, what others cannot do.”
Above is the image of renowned zen master Kodo Sawaki, the protagonist of the above post.
Taisen Deshimaru who was his disciple became famously known as "The 20th Century Bodhidharma" in Japan.
The facts depicted about his life are true events.
Information and Image courtesy of Zen Buddhism. Read more about Kodo Sawaki here - http://zen-buddhism.net/famous-zen-masters/kodo-sawaki.html
This post was written for the Indiblogger contest for Asus Zenfone.
http://www.asus.com/campaign/zenfone/IN/
P.S: By the way, do check out the Zenfone in the link above. Coming back to materialistic things, its like totally awesome! :D
P.S: By the way, do check out the Zenfone in the link above. Coming back to materialistic things, its like totally awesome! :D
Hyderabad Diaries - Day (stopped counting)
Monday, 7 July 2014
10:17 AM - No internet for 24 hours. No work for 24 hours. The IBM guy is going to come over today so that we can do some 'complex data analysis'. I feel pretty fucked up right now because I could not do any research on the 'complex data analysis' stuff on the internet. So now when he arrives, I'm just a noob to him.
Forget working experience, I'm not even knowledgeable on that topic. And the fucking internet service provider had to choose this time to screw around with their customers.
Anyway, Hyderabad is turning out to be a pathetic experience after all. The weather is fucked up. It never rains, but the people here still call it the rainy season. Its sweltering hot every day.
When I was in Bengal, we waited eagerly for the rains to arrive and save us from the unbearable rain. When I boarded the East Coast express, it was raining. And I came to this stupid city just to face the summer again!
Its a stupid city. The people are filthy rich and filthy dirty. Thankfully the colony that I'm living in has a few hygenic households. Moreover, people here have a penchant for loud bikes. They will intentionally replace their silencer pipes with dis-functional ones just to completely wipe out the primary intention due to which the smart engineers put silencer pipes in those bikes.
In Bengal, It was risky to drive because the footpaths were empty and the people were on the streets. In Hyderabad, its risky to even walk on the footpaths. Traffic is everywhere. And I finally figured out how to avoid accidents while walking on the road. Don't look left. Don't look right. Just keep walking. The speeding bikes and cars will avoid you. You don't have to be careful to avoid them.
Enough of ranting for now. Now its just a countdown to losing the impression I built on the IBM guy.
Hyderabad Diaries - Day 5
Wednesday, 25 June 2014
12.34 PM - I now realize how boring it can be when you have to sit in office with no work, while pretending to do some work. These are perfect moments for rants such as these. At least when other people will see you typing so much they might think that you're coding real hard. That is one big advantage of working in a non-profit organization where you're the only technically-aware person in office.
This morning, I went out exploring the other end of the Masab Tank flyover to see if I could find something interesting. There is a hot-chips shop here, which will suffice my evenings. Apart from that there is a grocery supermarket nearby. I bought two maggi cup-noodles to spare myself from the Amul Pro breakfasts, and some brown bread too. There was also a long stretch of the footpath occupied my fruit vendors who sold only mangoes.
Harsha Didi is actually the most friendly person in office. When she got to know that I'd go over exploring in the evening she gave me her number so that I can call her if I need any help because she lives nearby.
Today morning she invited me to come along with her to a movie (Ek Villain) that she'll be going with her friends. I accepted because I was going to watch Ek Villain myself. And I guess I need to learn how to socialize.
Chandra Sir stayed over at the office last night. We went to have dinner at a Paratha Stall near Jubilee Hills along with Prashanth and some other guy. I'm looking forward to visiting Dine Hill for dinner tonight.
Hyderabad Diaries - Day 4
Tuesday, 24 June 2014
9.55 AM - The telecallers Hema and Shravanti (the talkative one) were the first to arrive. Last night was a wonderful experience. I stayed in the office all alone!
Although I was tired and went to sleep too early to make proper use of the high speed internet here. The power went out at 2.30 AM at night. I woke up to mosquito bites and pitch black darkness.
The inverter power backup was only available in the central room. After a lot of sleepy indecisive moments, when I was about to relocate my mattress to the central room, the heavens sent the power back on.
It was a wonderful moment, as I went back to sleep immediately. My parents (especially my mom) were worried about me staying alone and burglars and other stuff which were amongst none of my primary concerns (come on! honestly!)
Anyway, I am really looking forward to visiting some of the amazing places around here, especially the Golconda Fort. I guess I'll have to wait for weekend to arrive for all that.
Look at me. First day in office, and I'm already looking forward to the weekend. *facepalm*
Hyderabad Diaries - Day 3
Monday, 23 June 2014
7.30 AM - Woke up. Packed my bags. Checked out.
It was a bit weird for me that I did not talk to anyone for two hours after waking up. Its more weird when you can't talk in your mother language all throughout the day, except when some family member calls you up.
9.30 AM - Took an auto-rickshaw from Nampally to NMDC, Masab Tank. My novice attempts at bargaining were only good for saving 20 bucks as I had to pay a hundred bucks to get there. I feel ripped off.
Oh! Who am I kidding! I am ripped off!
Hyderabad Diaries - Day 2
Sunday, 22 June 2014
5.00 AM - The Bengali family in my compartment just promoted themselves to the top of my most-annoying-people-to-share-a-journey-with list.
Firstly, I hate waking up at 5 in the morning. Secondly, I hate waking up to the sound of shrieking kids. Both happened. It was like my worst nightmare.
The parents wanted to switch off the light so as not to disturb the other sane people who were sleeping. Their son wanted to keep the lights on, for no perceptible reason on earth.
Maybe that is just what kids do. I remember being a very considerate kid myself. Just ask my parents. (ta
da!)
So there was a period of 15 minutes when the lights came on and went off for more than a zillion times in an unprecedented fashion, before the parent had to accept defeat to the incessant enthusiasm of the kid. Good Morning, world. (Add sleepy emoticon here)
8.00 AM - I'm at the side upper berth, and the lady below me (not figuratively, please!) in the side lower berth, doesn't appear to be an early riser. Well, that is acceptable. But it is 8 already - well past what you can define as 'early'. Its late afternoon for the people around me as they are already discussing about lunch. I haven't even had any breakfast. And the lady looks nowhere near to waking up as she lies in deep slumber (or fake slumber, as I greatly suspect). The shrieking kid should relocate himself nearer to her - and be of some help to humanity.
Unknown - Checked into Hotel Royal Grand. Big words, small hotel. But when decent prices are what you're looking for, this isn't a bad option. At 700 rupees, I got myself a small room, with an attached bathroom, tv, fridge, cupboard and a clean bed. But there weren't any windows. So I had to leave the bathroom door open... which isn't very pleasant, trust me.
Hyderabad Diaries - Day 1
Saturday, 21 June 2014
11.57 AM - I looked through the window at my parents standing in the rain. They could have moved under the shed, a bit further away from my window. They could not even see me through the one-way window from outside.
But they just stood there, getting drenched in the rain. And for the first time before this journey, I felt sad to leave them.
I never shared a very verbal relationship with my parents. I never had to say, "love you mom, dad" or "miss you" when they received the message in simpler words or actions.
I called them up, and asked them not to get drenched in the rain. So they moved to the nearest shed. I could still see them. They still couldn't.
And suddenly the train jerked alive, and began to move, away from my parents standing under the shed, who were still staring at my direction.
And soon, I couldn't see them any more.
5 weeks. And so it begins.
I always believed that I was a free bird. That I had no bounds. That I could move away anywhere I wanted to, at the slightest of opportunity, without ever looking back.
But my parents were my strongest links. I am home, where my parents are.
Just Walking By
Wednesday, 9 October 2013
3:28 A.M
After a 30hr sleepless ordeal behind editing my newly built tech blog TechnoZilla , I finally get to sit back, relax, and watch the visitors count start to rise once again.
A thought enters my mind.
Is this worth it?
All this time and energy, that I'm spending behind this tech-blog - is it going to be worth it? I don't have an answer. All I know for sure, is that time will tell.
Suddenly, I remember you - my very own Sarcasti-Nation. And an overwhelming feeling of happiness suddenly... should I say... overwhelms me!
Of course, there is always the embarrassment inside me of not having posted anything for about 9-10 cat lives (Sorry kitties). But I come back. I sign into that old mail id of me once again - blah.blah.with.me@gmail.com - now flooded with post notifications of fellow bloggers I used to follow.
I log into my blogger account.
The skull-head of my dumb alter-ego Xeno smiles back at me. Why do you smile? Always?
Each post has now become, a bookmark or a short label to a memory - each post reminded me of a different memory. Those were times of my life I will never forget. And I'll never forget it not because they were good memories only. They were actually a few good memories hidden amidst a lot of bad memories. But whats weird is that it still makes me smile. Its not even a smile. I'm somewhere in the middle of beaming and grinning right now.
3:42 AM
Its getting late now. I should get some sleep.
But before that, I'll just quickly walk past the deserted corridor of all these memories once again. I'll come back again some day, maybe to add something more.
I think I'm allergic to the dust of my memories. I'll quickly rub my eyes with the sleeve of my shirt so that the water building up inside my eyes doesn't ruin my vision.
A New Look - A New Beginning
Saturday, 8 December 2012
Just in case you haven't noticed yet, look around [Up and
Down]
Sarcasti-Nation now has a new look! Months of dieting, hours
of workout, a couple of visits to the parlor, a bit of magic powder sprinkling
and abra-ca-dabra mumbling and - *poof*
the abandoned nation looks as good as the ex-girlfriend you regret being dumped
by.
I'll start by keeping the promises that I've made a long
time back.
1. Changing to a self-made theme [Done]
2. Review of two books sent to me a long time back. [Done]
3. Posting regularly. [I'm on it]
2. Review of two books sent to me a long time back. [Done]
3. Posting regularly. [I'm on it]
So I'll hope my merciful readers will forgive me.
And now I feel like I've just begun.
~volviendo a la vida~
Book Review - Faceless - The only way out
[The following review may contain words and opinions that
may incite disgust, outrage, and what not. The guidance of your conscience is
advised. If you proceed, make sure you keep all objects which could be used to
break the computer monitor (other than your fist, head, and vocabulary) away
from the computer. And as an added precautionary measure, please keep all sharp
objects, ropes, and poisonous chemicals, in the safe custody of someone who
isn't reading the article and doesn't want you to die, so that in case you feel
like killing yourself, you don't.]
Okay! This is going to be short. Because I don't want to
waste time on insulting a book as horrible as this one.
Book Review - The Secret Letters of the Monk Who Sold His Ferrari
[The following review may contain words and opinions that
may incite disgust, outrage, and what not. The guidance of your conscience is
advised. If you proceed, make sure you keep all objects which could be used to
break the computer monitor (other than your fist, head, and vocabulary) away
from the computer. And as an added precautionary measure, please keep all sharp
objects, ropes, and poisonous chemicals, in the safe custody of someone who
isn't reading the article and doesn't want you to die, so that in case you feel
like killing yourself, you don't.]
Julian Mantle is back. And this time, he is hell bent on spoiling the life of another man - Jonathan.
7 Steps To Die Like A Gentleman
Friday, 25 May 2012
In case you’re planning on committing suicide like a noble man of the modern society, here are a few tips to make your last action on earth a nice one, brimming over with manners and etiquettes.
1. Appearance is of primary importance. Put on your best
attire. Shampoo and comb your hair like a civilized human being, and not like a
teenager going to college. Cut your fingernails and toenails neatly, so that
the people at the post mortem lab do not mistake you to be a sample of the
Neanderthal man from the museum archives.
2. Write a neat Suicide note. Use a nice ball pen to write it
on a clean piece of good quality paper which doesn’t soak up the ink like it
will soak up the tears of people who will actually miss you (if any). Choose a
decent ink color like black or blue. Please avoid red, pink, or green because
they are just out of fashion right now, when it comes to suicide notes. And
don’t waste blood. If they need any, they’ll know how to get it from your dead
body.
3. Mention who gets what. To prevent all future squabbles over your
stuff after you leave, in an additional note attached to your suicide letter, declare
the names of the future vendors of your prized possessions. It will give them a
reason to be happy and a reason to remember you for a few more days than
default.
4. Don’t be too filmy. Suicides are just not that old-fashioned
and dramatic anymore. They’ve changed. They’ve been morphed, developed, and
amended much more than our Indian constitution. These days, suicides carry
along with them a style quotient. If this is going to be the last intelligent
thing that you’re going to do on earth, why don’t you do it with a bit of
style, eh?
5. Talk to the person who loves you the most, for the last
time. Tell him/her indirectly, how clever you’ve been all your life and how
cleverly you plan to end it as well. Not that he/she will have the slightest
idea of what you’re talking about. But she’ll understand later, don’t worry.
6. Research suicide methods. There are million + 1 ways in
which you can end your life; +1 being the normal way. This is an integral step,
so plan it carefully. I personally suggest jumping off the rooftop/terrace/cliff/grand-canyon.
No scarcity of rooftops which are high enough in cities. You also get to
experience the additional thrill of bungee-jumping (without a bungee of course,
you silly!).
7. The most important step of all – Enjoy committing suicide.
This is that moment of your life for which you’ve been waiting all your life –
the last. Enjoy it while you can. If I ever jump off a skyscraper, I’d surely
smile at the people looking out of the windows. I’d wink and wave them goodbye.
In case I passed a bathroom window while falling, I’d close my eyes like a true
gentleman. I might even start singing the national anthem in case it takes too
long to reach the bottom. The last noble action of my complete and fulfilling
life story will be a dignified one. And then, before you know it … splat!
P.S_1: The author of this post sincerely hopes that this
post will not influence any human/animal to prematurely end his life on being
too excited to experience the fun suicide is all about.
P.S_2: If it so happens that you find yourself believing, at
the very least, a single sentence in the above post… you’re the clever man I was
talking about, you fool!
The Adventures of Munk - The Chipmunk
Friday, 18 May 2012
Once upon a time, in the distant forest of Woody Woods...
"Now remember, no playing games with old man stag Robert's antlers again!" said a stern motherly voice as she fiddled with a fluffy red pullover, "Do not waste your childhood years by disturbing someone's retirement days. I do not want any more complaints. Is that clear?"
"I KNOW mom!" replied the red pullover.
After a fair bit of hustle-pustle, the little head of a chipmunk popped out of the right end of the pullover.
"There you go! Now you look like my dear child Munky!" said Mother Chipmunk as she admired the cute little creature in front of her.
Muffled giggles floated into the room.
"Mom! Do you HAVE to embarrass me in front of my friends?" cried out Munk, the adorable little chipmunk in a fluffy red pullover.
"Come on Munk-ey, don't keep us waiting for so long" shouted his friends who were at the door waiting for him. More giggles followed.
"And don't be late! Come back before sunset!" ordered Mother Chipmunk at Munk who was rushing out of the door trying his best not to listen.
"There you are Munk-ey! We are honored to have you join us on our mission Munk-ey. Please lead the way Munk-ey." teased all his friends.
"Don't call me that!" retorted Munk angrily as they set out on their journey towards the Wet Waterfall.
Book Review - May I Hebb Your Attention Pliss
Friday, 6 January 2012
Call it coincidence if you will, but the last minute
decision of choosing to buy this book after sniffing every corner of the oxford
bookstore with 200 bucks in my pocket, seems like divine intervention right
now. “May I Hebb Your Attention Pliss” by bong cum blogger cum author Arnab Ray of greatbong.net was just the book that I needed to read to recharge my sarcasti-battery with
fresh green renewable non-polluting energy.
White Girl In Punjab
Tuesday, 13 December 2011
WTH is a White Girl Doing in Punjab?
Any Indian would agree that India is a great place. Many
still would prefer to go abroad and study elsewhere but most come back home to
good old India. At least that’s what they tell me. Of course, they also tell me
that I could never live in India. Their reasoning is that life in the US is too
much different and long. life in India is very difficult. They seriously think
that an American couldn’t or wouldn’t stick around for
Apparently they don’t know how stubborn I can be. Telling me
these things only fuels the fire that makes me find a way to work through the
challenges of living here. Yep. That’s right. After being warned I couldn’t
live here I packed up my life and moved to Punjab. Am I crazy? Am I stupid? I
might just be a little of both but I did it anyway. And don’t ask me why
(because I don’t have an answer) but I was a little surprised not to see more
foreigners living here.
I landed in India optimistic that life would not be so
different here that I couldn’t manage to survive it unscathed. Boy was I wrong!
My body had pretty much 0% immunity to the germs and bacteria here so I wound
up getting sick repeatedly. There are fruits and vegetables here that I’ve
never seen and the foods that I have seen actually go out of season. This
wouldn’t be a bad thing if I hadn’t been such a spoiled American used to having
everything at my fingertips year round. I lived with just about every
convenience you can think of and life does not work that way here.
I was also naïve to think that since I had lived in a joint
family system before that moving into this one would be okay. Again I was
terribly mistaken! Apparently growing up as a child in a joint family is
extremely different than entering one as an adult. Though, I’m not sure that I
could pass off all the things that have happened as being mature or adult
because there has been some pretty childish stuff going on.
Curious? I don’t blame you – my life is like a TV drama that
no one has written about yet. But you can find out more, I write incessantly
about the daily craziness on my blog “White Bhabi” and I don’t sugar coat the
details. And to answer the question “WTH is a White Girl Doing in
Punjab?”….well, I’m living, loving and blogging to pass the time!
_ _ ^ _ ^ _ _
White Bhabi comes over to Sarcasti-Nation all the way from Amritsar, Punjab to tell us something about herself. Visit her blog http://scandaloussneaky.
Flatulence
Saturday, 10 December 2011
Beware: This is going to be one of the dirtiest posts that
I’ve written till date on one of the dirtiest topics possible.
“Flatulence” is just a nice way of saying “Fart” when in the
company of classy people talking about art and weather with lips kissing
glasses containing vintage wine. The word might be made socially acceptable by
the usage of a synonym that sounds less tainted than the original. But that
doesn’t change the reputation of its actual meaning, does it?
A Time For Nothing
Sunday, 20 November 2011
How far can you go
How wild can you dream
How high can you jump
How deep can you dive
How fast can you run
How long can you sleep
How much can you eat
How happy can you be
The list will never cease to grow.
There is a time and place for everything.
But do I really need to know?
That there ain’t a time for nothing.
Indians Are Obsessed With Fairness
Thursday, 10 November 2011
One fine morning, curiosity inspired me to waste some time
by scanning the advertisements in the Weddings section of the newspaper. After
5 minutes, I found a not-so-surprising similarity in all the adverts. Everyone
wanted a ‘fair’, ‘good-looking’, ‘good-complexion’ woman. There wasn’t a single
advert without a specification of that kind.
And I wondered…
What about all the women who are not ‘fair’, do not have a ‘good
complexion’, and hence, cannot be classified as ‘good-looking’ by the confused Indian
multicultural society.
Questions flooded my mind – Is fairness a primary and
necessary trait for a beautiful woman? If someone is fair, but not good
looking, is she considered good looking? If someone is good looking, but not
fair, is she considered good looking?
ACTIVATE: T.H.O.U.G.H.T PROCESS [Temporary Hiatus Of
Understanding Given for Heavy Thinking]
Yeah I know the above line doesn’t make any meaning. Never
mind. Let us move on.
So what was I talking about?
Yeah.
10 Things I Learnt From 2 months of College Life
Monday, 17 October 2011
1. College life is pretty exhausting. You’ll wish you had 30
hours to spend each day (20 in college, 4 at home, and 6 under the covers in
your bed.)
2. Chances are, that all the good looking girls end up in the
other classrooms.
3. Chances are, you’ll have a crush on a senior “didi” (sister)
as well as your humanities ‘mam’.
4. Chances are, a lot of people will be after the person you’re
after. [Update: Not applicable for me anymore. But aptly applicable for others for sure. Heavy competition. I hope you understand.]
5. Chances are, you’ll discover earlier than expected, how
inexperienced you are, with non-boys.
6. Whoever said that ragging is a type of self-education, was a
dumb-head (I wanted to say D*ckhead initially, but then I thought dumb is more
appropriate than duck. ‘U’ get me?)
7. New words will be added to your vocabulary under the
category of ‘slangs’. Even if you use them or not, at the very least, you’ll
know what the ‘rickshaw-puller’ just said to the rash driving taxi.
8. You can easily be what you want to be no matter what you were
before – The studious first bencher, the last bench prankster, the all-class
sleeper, the sportsman, the rockstar, the cool dude, the nature-boy, the talkative,
the thug, anything you want to be.
9. Each and every moment, you’ll be creating memories you know that
you’ll cherish forever.
10. And yes of course, you’ll learn some physics, mathematics,
mechanics, electrical, electronics, and humanities. Not that it is important –
it’s just that a part of the money that your parents pay for a happy college life,
is donated to a bunch of incoherent fools who write something called a ‘syllabus’
and you’ve got to follow that the night before your exams. (Yes, you’ll learn
to insult your Board as badly as that).
Anyway, the upper and lower eyelids of my eyes are begging
for some intimate time together. I hope I’ll be back sooner than you can say, “The
Xeno forgot that he has got a blog.”
40 followers??? How can I ever forget you guys?
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