22 Crossroads

Preface: This is a sequel / prequel to " Stupid Roses ". Do read that as well, if you haven't already. He glanced around the room. He did not want to be late. There was something missing but he could not figure out what. A dozen or so items lay on the table, neat and tidy. He ran through the list once again. Chopped onions, mashed garlic cloves, tomatoes, capsicum, coriander leaves, butter, salt, pepper and of course eggs. Ah, chilies, he had forgotten green chilies. He rushed to the refrigerator. He did not want to be late. Not tonight. She could handle this on her own, she told herself. Vials of various sizes were spread around. The pills, at last. She gulped down two at a time. This should ease things down, for a few minutes at least, though she could never be sure. They came in waves – these attacks, in ebbs and flows – and they were becoming far more frequent; and punctual. For now, though, she was calm. In the distance, the second hand of the wall clock was loud as ...

A lot of you keep asking me, “ tu din bhar karta kya ha i ” (what do you do all day in your free time). Here’s the answer. In what follows, most of the lines were spoken in the head, some aloud. And it’s not this coherent in original, it’s been paraphrased. “ I need a plan. I really need a plan. I need to retire, retire early. I can't work for long. I should retire by the time I am 40. Yeah 40 seems reasonable. That gives me 16 years of working life. Spend a couple years doing MBA, and I am left with 14 years. Not bad. I hope I will be able to retire at 40, and not get bogged by social obligation. Obligations? Will I have a family to take care of? A kid maybe? [No comment on this status update yet? Why isn’t anyone online?] Hmm, I can have a kid. How old would he be then? Around 7 I guess. Yeah 33 seems to be a good age to have a kid. And when the kid is 7, that’s a good time to retire. Give my nurturing instincts a way to express themselves [chuckles to self] . Seriously, 7 is a ...

Hello KGP In all probability this is the last blog written/posted from KGP. I started blogging after I came to KGP, and it’s been five years of rambling for me, and just somehow as I get ready to pack my computer for one last time, this turns out to be the 50th post on 22 Crossroads. Five Years. Five years can do a lot to you. They can make you well up at a stupid farewell ceremony holding a stupid cup in your hand trying to make sense of some stupid words while kids around you chant 'speech speech'. Well, goodbyes are full of clichés -- it’s the end of an era, life will never be the same. And as Myth pointed out in his blog ( link ) , Life outside Puri gate is a bitch . Five Years. I started writing this blog on the day Sanjay Da, while serving, in the mess said, 'Aaj mere haath ka akhiri fish hai. Fir na aap rahiyega, na hum rahenge'. He always used to save a good (if not the best) piece of fish for me, and well, so the sento nerve was struck. Thank You Sanjay Da and ...

She was not sure what had happened to her. She did not want to cry – not this time. She was not sure how long she could hold it. Although she hated herself for these moments, sometimes the urge and the fear were too strong to control. This certainly wasn’t the first of those moments. She felt like shouting, shrieking, crying, making a scene – something – anything to make her feel better – about herself. But she knew there would be none of it – not this time. She had resolved there would be no pleading and cajoling either. This time she had to be strong. Not knowing how long this resolve would last, she stared at the roses. He wasn’t sure why he was there – like that. Had he done something wrong? Again? He did not dislike answering these oft-repeated questions periodically. But he did not like them either. He was fighting the urge to wisecrack. This was not an appropriate time. Off late, there never seemed to be an appropriate time. He was not angry, he was not displeased, he was not di...

My second attempt at digital painting ... Model: ME Artist : ME Inspiration: ME Self Portrait by ~ ritwik-mango on deviant ART

Dedicated to: Gulzar Saab and to all guys wih a computer screen who are the inspiration behind this piece कल रात तुम्हारे online आने का इंतज़ार करता रहा बोझिल आँखें तुम्हारी बत्ती के green होने की आस देखती रहीं बात तो वैसे कुछ ख़ास नहीं थी पार बात तो फ़िर भी करनी थी दिन कैसे बीता, जब चोट लगी -- क्यों हँसा, यही सब कहनी थी दो बार "thr" भी मारा, सोचा कहीं "always-idle" तो नहीं कोई reply नहीं आया तो सोचा की अब यही सही शायद आज तुम्हारा mood नहीं था ४ बजे वाला कोहरा भी घिर आया था मैं आँखें मूँद नींद का इंतज़ार करता रहा कल रात तुम्हारे online आने का इंतज़ार करता रहा इन बोझिल आंखों को तुमसे chat करने की आदत सी हो गई है. Do follow up to the jugalbandi And for those whose Hindi font is not working: Kal raat tumhare online aane ka intezaar karta raha bojhil aankhen tumharee batti ke green hone ki aas dekhti rahi.n baat to waise kuchh khaas nahi thi par baat to fir bhi karni thi din kaise beeta, jab chot lagi -- kyun hansa yahi sab kahni thi do baar "thr" bhi maara, s...

I present here my bestest digital art creation ever. Its a poster made for Robotix 2009. Inspired by a lot of grunge artwork, the background alone took more than 4 hours in the making. The background was made from scratch using just 4 stock images (that can be seen on the 4 corners). Once the background was done, the 09 (yellow/orange) part took the maximum time -- close to 1.5 hours. It is my most detailed work ever with a lot of time spent in getting proper text shadow for maximum legibility. And finally it is among the very few artwork that looks better in print than on screen (usually it is the other way round). Grunge by ~ ritwik-mango on deviant ART The background alone looks something like this Grunge Poster background by ~ ritwik-mango on deviant ART

What is it guys and their idea of expression? No wonder cell phone and greeting card companies have to turn to women when they want to say, “Express yourself.” The older a boy gets the more he becomes aware of the fact that other humans of the same gender are not to be spoken of in an affectionate way. There were times when we too had best friends . These were the boys like us with whom we shared our lunch at school. These were the boys who helped us with our homework, and these were the very same boys who picked up fights for you in the playground when you were not strong enough to stand for yourself. As we got to our early teens, these boys were the confidantes who were the first to learn of our secret crushes. And at times these boys were the pigeons carrying mush-infested paper balls to and from these secret crushes. They were our best friends. Then through some freak of nature these boys became men. And then somehow there were no best friends . Girls still have their best fr...

Dear Girl in Purple, Let me start at the bottom-line itself: I don’t like you. I don’t like you because you brought to the surface the very facet of my being that I dreaded the most – that being: acute paranoia, extreme wariness of public embarrassment, and of course my utter discomfort in the mere presence of a girl. Remember this – I have tried all my life to shield these aspects from public knowledge. For me these are more covert than perhaps the existence of the Holy Grail. Alas, though, as all this is now a thing of the past. You make me feel pathetic and miserable. I mean, how difficult is it to walk up to a cute girl in a coffee shop and say “hello” or whatever else might be fitting. What is the risk I am playing against? No probable solution of the Schrödinger’s equation will make my saying “hello” lead to a nuclear holocaust. Life is not like the Butterfly Effect. But my utterly female-terrorised brain makes me believe otherwise. Or maybe, it’s just that guys who talk of...

So much light I can't see myself So dark around I can't be myself From the shackles I'll free myself And the journey continues. Lay beside me, and lift me high above Then let go off the cliff, for that adrenaline rush The clouds have gone now, will it ever rain If you can love me now, I can love you once again Lay beside me, in this gothic sky Black blood flowing in my vein, but i want to stay alive The clouds are back now, the journey continues Its raining once again, and the journey continues. Crumples flowers, crumpled stones Bruised and battered, I stand alone Are you the wine, that can carry me with you? Crumpled flower. crumpled stone Carrying blames on my own Are you the sin are you sorry I was you? Well, I am sorry too. Come lay beside me, it's hurting even more I tried to break free all my bonds and it's hurting even more There's no strength left now I...

Patriotism. What does it mean to us? We are the youth of the country, the supposed to be future of the nation. What do we make of these three syllables? We are the progressive section of the society, marching forward, taking India to a better and brighter future. But have we really ever paid any attention to it? Have we ever spared even a figment of our fertile imagination for the same? Let’s have a look. I am twenty one years old. That’s right, old enough to be legally married under the laws of the state. I have no future plans. My future is as directionless as India’s foreign policy. I don’t know what I want to do with my life, apart from earning money. I study in an institution that runs on the ever cherished, ever cliché taxpayers money. My tuition is subsidised. The dollar-face Lincoln says, "Ask not what your country has given you. Ask what you have given to the country". Rather than giving anything to the country, right now I am actually taking away a large chunk of th...

My message to the team ..... “If I need a cause for celebration Or a comfort I can use to ease my mind I rely on my imagination And I dream of an imaginary time.” That imaginary time has become real … When everything's been said and done.... When words run out ... and so does your ability to invent new ones to suit the moment To honor it ... to savor it What do you say ... it’s not the first time that I have been in this situation That night u guys asked for one line ... well keeda never speaks a single line ... and again well as i said I just write my blog So, what do I say about such an astonishing fest and such a great group of people ... well for one ... it was more than about just a fest ... more than about 546 teams and 1500 participants ....more than about 2 odd lakhs spent on it ... more than 4 dog tiring days and nights ... much much more than that. It was about self belief ... it was about a dream ... a dream come true in much bigger proport...

I expect the DC++ hoggers already know about "Three KGPians day out", well here is a new version of it. Four days before the end sem exams, and on the eve of the day which has three tests in store for them, three KGPians, decided to go out for a late night snack. Actually there wasnt much decision involved except for the place where they would be willing to hog down stuff. The local canteen won on the grounds that being the nearest, they would be WASTING much lesser time if they went there. The guftagu began, after the initial rite of ordering your stuff. Two Bread Butters, one beg sandwich, and a cup of tea. No maggie, no chowmein -- seriosly these people were low on budget. Before we get any further into their actual conversation, lets name the three dramatis personae. On account of confidentiality, they have requested that they be known by aliases. So lets call them MyTh, Quark and manGO. As the three waited for the food to arrive, manGO being in a counter reflective mood ...

" है वक़्त अगर कुछ ज्यादा बांटो, मेरे संग बर्बाद करो साथ अगर हम न हो कल तो मुझको थोड़ा याद करो वापस आऊँगा ये वादा मैं करता नहीं अपनी नाकामियों पे चादर मैं धरता नहीं याद कर लूँगा तुम्हे भी दो घड़ी दो चार पल जितना वक़्त तुम्हारे पास उतना मेरे पास नहीं " " Hai waqt agar kuchh jyaada Baanto, mere sang barbaad karo Saath agar hum na ho kal To mujhko thoda yaad karo Waapas aaonga ye wada main karta nahi Apni nakamiyon pe chaadar main dharta nahi Yaad kar loonga tumhe bhi do ghadi, do char pal Jitna waqt tumhare paas Utna mere paas nahi "