Incomplete...

Indrani wrote the first lines, inspiring me to write the next 4.

Come dance with me this starry night,

Lets dance to the tune of this quiet night

Gazing away at the starry night

Bathed in the nascent silver of moonlight

Under the canopy of the spotted sky

I stand in awe, without questioning why.

Our cyber lives.....

Another one from where came the first one.....

P.S.: Click on the image to see it clearly.

Pain in the match

Warning : Some "bad words" in the post. Parental advisory. Explicit contents. Thanks PMRC.

IIT Bombay. Hostel 1. TV room. Its Mumbai Indians playing. Never mind the opposition is Kings XI Punjab. Its still MI. All the ingredients of a great match. The excitement, the adrenaline, the errors, the Sachining, the Harbhajaning, the big hits, the run outs the whole deal. People digesting their square meal with burp of satisfaction and the rare fart.

And then, the son of a bitch Election in charge comes in, sets up his PA system, has a "Hello , check" thing done. And then the buttock faced babboon switches off the TV. Well, sacrilege is the word that comes to mind and all the burpers and farters were ready to beat 38 shades of crap out of this guy. And he is not ready to turn it back on. Why, cause the "Soap - box" (the elction nominees giving their speeches) was official hostel business. People walked out cursing and blessing the internet and Youtube.

I get to the room, power the laptop and scrambling to get youtubes IPL channel going. And there it is. Those ominous words splattered all over Chromes' face. Shockwave Flash has stopped functioning! SOn of a bitch! Does everybody hate me? Today? Now? Sachins batting, for Sachins sake!

Somehow, Googles' honour is kept and the match starts streaming in. Bandwith good, sound good, Sachin good, MI good. And then, the phone rings. Its a friend. Crying, weeping, sobbing, talking all at once. How women can multi task,is beyond me. But whats worse is their sense of timing . So i mute the match and begin the counselling and consoling. Sachin is dismissed.

Ever had that feeling, being punched in the balls and not be able to scream and shout and twist and writhe. Just feel your face flush a bright red. And the pain does not stop for another 15 minutes.Burning in hell, having Hades chop off your limbs is far more comfortable it seems.

The pain eases over a period of some minutes, before two wickets go down in the blink of an eye. I must be bleeding somewhere. The pangs are real. Connection error. Refresh after some time. Trouble breathing. Hyperventilating.Must not smash laptop. Must breathe properly. Must not swear loudly.

Pollard does not deliver. No boundary for 33 balls. Six!!!! Tiwary delivers. Relief. A breeze of fresh summer air floats in as if magically. Am not done dreaming and Rayudu goes bust. Idiot. Throat is parched. My knee hurts. God damn it (won't take Sachins name in vain).

Bravo is in. 10 balls without the ropes being breached. Another SIX! hushhhhhhhhhhh........and as the last drop of hush-spittle leaves my mouth, Bravo is dismissed. swearing. Loudly. Cant help it. Need a shrink. Connection Error. Please refresh. Arghhhhh.

I do the best thing to save myself. Pull the ethernet cord and gulp down a litre of cold water in 6 seconds. Fuck, that hurts the teeth. and the throat. But the match is still on. How can i not watch it? Search cable -> Find cable -> Connect cable -> start Chrome -> IPL channel. WOw, nothing went wrong here.

19 off 10. 3 fours later, its 6 from 6. Sathish goes, Bhajji enters. Connection Error. Please refresh. No time. cricinfo.com. Its already 163. One run and finally the ordeal ends!I head to the toilet for a pee of heavenly relief! Finally!

Cartooning away!

Thanks to our own Jesus Christ , i learnt about this site where you can create your own comic strips. My first attempt at doing the same.

(P.S. : For some reason, the image looks tini tiny!....please click on it for an enlarged version......that way my hard work won't be wasted!)

More coming soon!

Of candle and shadows

Owe these snaps to Nikhils superb craft skills.........

Thanks to a good friend Nits , i have realised that it is a good habit to remember camera settings for a good snap so that i do not end up floundering the next time.

Camera : Canon A590IS

Shutter speed : 0.3 seconds

Aperture : F/5.0

ISO: 1600

Center weighted average

(Thats all i can remember at the moment)

R.I.P. Asheem....

I know i am the last person to know about this and i am a lazy bum and all that. But that still does not reduce the impact of this loss. Asheem Chakravarty, was the tabla player and lead vocalist for Indian Ocean. Ever known as the man with the golden voice, his vocals on tracks like Bandeh and Kandisa are immortal. Being largely self taught, its amazing how a tabla player can sing at the same time, that too so well. His patterns on the tabla and style of playing were not exactly conventional, but that made up the core sound of Indian Ocean along with Susmit Sen on the guitar.

He passed away on 25th December 2009, from cardiac arrest. I just got to know this 3 weeks back, around the time they were supposed to play a concert in Pune. It really bummed me out to know that he was no more and Indian Ocean were going to play without him.

For me, Indian Ocean has a special warm place in my heart. Kandisa is the first song i played on stage and Bandeh is as i often call it, "The most jammed song". Each of those jams with Sumit on vocals, Ameya on bass, Chirayu on guitars....just blazing away! The jams will keep coming. But just with a tinge of sadness. This is to Asheem Chakravarty......R.I.P.!

Rocking out.....

4 school friends.

Pune's irresistible charm.

Tricky, senseless traffic.

Koregaon Road, North Main Road.

Barricades near the German Bakerys' remains.

Hard Rock Cafe.

Dani California by RHCP.

Guitars, drums and pictures of the legends of Rock N Roll .

My Sacrifice by Creed.

All 4 completely psyched to be there.

The main riff of Enter Sandman.

Some liquor.

Headbanging.

Killing in the name of by RATM.

Old and new stories.

Some good food.

Carnival Of Rust by Poets of the fall.

Clicks of a camera and flashes.

Another brick in the wall by Pink Floyd

11.00 pm. Music stops.

Silent walk back to the parking lot.

Goodbyes and smiles.

Long, cool, swift ride back home.

Nothing Else Matters playing in my head.

Goodnight.

Flourish of the brush......ahem!

Tried my hand at painting.........flat brush and writing ink........