Its 2.30 a.m and I am unable to sleep,
I struggled for almost two hours,
Tried reading a book, listening to music, but nothing seems to work,
And that’s when I give up my futile efforts and start writing,
I ask myself why. The answer I get is that I haven’t earned anything today being a weekend,
So I don’t earn my sleep. Strange isn’t it. But somewhere I feel it to be right though.
While I was trying to sleep, a strange thought appeared,
What is directly proportional in this world?
What is directly proportional to a mother’s love?
What is directly proportional to self-respect?
What is directly proportional to faith?
What is directly proportional to honesty to sincerity?
What is directly proportional to peace?
To many more such things you and I can think of.
Nope. No answer as of now.
But there is something which has a direct proportionality, and that is money.
Money is measured, seen, exchanged for materials, actions, skills and sometimes principles (Which I hate to admit).
For the sake of It, we leave behind everything and go where It takes us to make It.
The process of making It is wonderful, It’s a creation, It’s power, It’s an energy,
It’s like a self-recognition to the act you are performing sincerely.
It’s not an end-result, but an on-going process,
I firmly believe that money-making is not a skill but an art.
Many people would argue that money is an inordinate manner to measure,
But there should be something to measure ourselves against,
What else can one be measured against?
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Friday, December 19, 2008
Is this called "Love At First Sight"
The first time I saw him, something happened
The first time our eyes met, something happened
The first time we smiled at each other, something happened
Could never understand what it is, but yes I felt some strange connection
Is this called “Love at first sight”?
My mind refused to accept it
What connection can one make with a complete stranger?
Connection of unsaid words, of feelings, of emotions, of desires (may be)
I was unsure about this feeling then, thought he was just another passing cloud,
Thought he was another flirtatious dude, whom I would just ignore after some time
Thought (as usual) guys are JAB’s (Jck As Bstds) and do not deserve any importance
And waited to put this guy also in the JAB category, to prove my theory that 80%t guys are JA, 10% are B, 8% are JAB’s, the remaining 2% are gays...
Thoda confusion ho gaya, sorry fans ;-) Tried my level best to be serious.
The first time our eyes met, something happened
The first time we smiled at each other, something happened
Could never understand what it is, but yes I felt some strange connection
Is this called “Love at first sight”?
My mind refused to accept it
What connection can one make with a complete stranger?
Connection of unsaid words, of feelings, of emotions, of desires (may be)
I was unsure about this feeling then, thought he was just another passing cloud,
Thought he was another flirtatious dude, whom I would just ignore after some time
Thought (as usual) guys are JAB’s (Jck As Bstds) and do not deserve any importance
And waited to put this guy also in the JAB category, to prove my theory that 80%t guys are JA, 10% are B, 8% are JAB’s, the remaining 2% are gays...
Thoda confusion ho gaya, sorry fans ;-) Tried my level best to be serious.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Clogged Thoughts
Sometimes I wonder what I should believe:
What I see?
What I hear?
What I think?
Or what I feel??
Combine all the possibilities, only to see confusion,
Never believed the existence of negative fusions,
But how much to avoid, a world filled with naysayer humans,
Trying to ignore every aspect of such situations,
Praying to remain untouched by the clouds so superficial.
Everything disoriented, scatter all around,
Where is the time to relay and stack,
Why is the rush, why is the angst,
Being in a mode so restless and lost,
No time to watch what is being done,
No time to catch what is being said,
Blinded by craziness, reproach and egoism
No time to appreciate, the beauty of another human.
What I see?
What I hear?
What I think?
Or what I feel??
Combine all the possibilities, only to see confusion,
Never believed the existence of negative fusions,
But how much to avoid, a world filled with naysayer humans,
Trying to ignore every aspect of such situations,
Praying to remain untouched by the clouds so superficial.
Everything disoriented, scatter all around,
Where is the time to relay and stack,
Why is the rush, why is the angst,
Being in a mode so restless and lost,
No time to watch what is being done,
No time to catch what is being said,
Blinded by craziness, reproach and egoism
No time to appreciate, the beauty of another human.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Breakaway (Sung by Kelly Clarkson - Not written by me)
Grew up in a small town
And when the rain would fall down
I’d just stare out my window
Dreaming of what could be
And if I’d end up happy
I would pray
Trying hard to reach out
But when I’d try to speak out
Felt like no one could hear me
Wanted to belong here
But something felt so wrong here
So I pray
I could breakaway
I’ll spread my wings and I’ll learn how to fly
I’ll do what it takes ‘til I touch the sky
And I’ll make a wish, take a chance, make a change
And breakaway
Out of the darkness and into the sun
But I won’t forget all the ones that I loved
I’ll take a risk, take a chance, make a change
And breakaway
Wanna feel the warm breeze
Sleep under a palm tree
Feel the rush of the ocean
Get onboard a fast train
Travel on a jet plane, far away
And breakaway
I’ll spread my wings and I’ll learn how to fly
I’ll do what it takes ‘til I touch the sky
And I’ll make a wish, take a chance, make a change
And breakaway
Out of the darkness and into the sun
But I won’t forget all the ones that I loved
I’ll take a risk, take a chance, make a change
And breakaway
Buildings with a hundred floors
Swinging ‘round revolving doors
Maybe I don’t know where they’ll take me but
Gotta keep moving on, moving on
Fly away, breakaway
I’ll spread my wings and I’ll learn how to fly
Though its not easy to tell you goodbye
And I’ll make a wish, take a chance, make a change
And breakaway
Out of the darkness and into the sun
But I won’t forget the place i come from
I’ll take a risk, take a chance, make a change
And breakaway
And when the rain would fall down
I’d just stare out my window
Dreaming of what could be
And if I’d end up happy
I would pray
Trying hard to reach out
But when I’d try to speak out
Felt like no one could hear me
Wanted to belong here
But something felt so wrong here
So I pray
I could breakaway
I’ll spread my wings and I’ll learn how to fly
I’ll do what it takes ‘til I touch the sky
And I’ll make a wish, take a chance, make a change
And breakaway
Out of the darkness and into the sun
But I won’t forget all the ones that I loved
I’ll take a risk, take a chance, make a change
And breakaway
Wanna feel the warm breeze
Sleep under a palm tree
Feel the rush of the ocean
Get onboard a fast train
Travel on a jet plane, far away
And breakaway
I’ll spread my wings and I’ll learn how to fly
I’ll do what it takes ‘til I touch the sky
And I’ll make a wish, take a chance, make a change
And breakaway
Out of the darkness and into the sun
But I won’t forget all the ones that I loved
I’ll take a risk, take a chance, make a change
And breakaway
Buildings with a hundred floors
Swinging ‘round revolving doors
Maybe I don’t know where they’ll take me but
Gotta keep moving on, moving on
Fly away, breakaway
I’ll spread my wings and I’ll learn how to fly
Though its not easy to tell you goodbye
And I’ll make a wish, take a chance, make a change
And breakaway
Out of the darkness and into the sun
But I won’t forget the place i come from
I’ll take a risk, take a chance, make a change
And breakaway
Thursday, November 20, 2008
A Tribute to my Babaji (Grandpa)
As I try to write something here, there is so much I want to say,
But it’s so hard to find the right words to express true feelings.
The only way I can put across my thoughts is by recalling my feelings as I grew.
Babaji - When I was 5:
He is so strict. Always pushes me to study.
Let’s me play, but questions too much.
Scared to show him the report card.
He likes Munna bhai more than us.
Why can’t he scold Tauji and tell him that his mother is my Grandmother and not his?
Babaji – When I was 10:
Wakes me up early and forces me to read maths tables.
What’s the obsession with good handwriting?
What’s with the drinking milk every morning? I don’t want to.
Run upstairs and start studying, the minute I see him on the main gate back from office.
How much is a good score? Everytime he just says, Can do better.
Babaji – When I was 15:
What’s with being punctual and disciplined? Big deal.
What’s with early to bed and early to rise?
What’s wrong in reading novels?
Why should everything be done so perfectly?
Why should I always speak in a low tone and obey everyone around?
Why should everything be spic and span?
Why should I always take permission?
Babaji – When I was 20:
Narrates his childhood stories
Calls me laaddo now :-)
Trusts us more than his sons.
Has given us complete freedom, with the confidence we will never misuse it.
Enjoys talking to us more than anything.
Chats with our friends, like he’s chatting with his friends.
Is upset with R, but I guess both are upset with each other for weird reasons.
Takes our opinions and shares his view point. (Open-house)
Sometimes gets upset with Dad, which he discusses with us.
Became ill and got bed-ridden.
Babaji passed away in 2006. I did not cry, because I felt that I haven’t lost him. I knew he will be with me always in some sort of a habit or thought or act and I do feel him around. Today as I look back, I think about all those habits that he inculcated in me. I realize the meaning of that strictness now. I realize the importance of those talks now. I now see the difference he has made. I understand the value of his presence in my life. I understand the meaning of living life with self-respect now. Those words which he said made little meaning to me as a kid, but today when I recall those same words I see the impact that has made subconsciously.
For me to walk in the right direction I only need to ask myself one question, “Will Babaji be proud of me?” and if the answer is yes then it’s THE direction.
But it’s so hard to find the right words to express true feelings.
The only way I can put across my thoughts is by recalling my feelings as I grew.
Babaji - When I was 5:
He is so strict. Always pushes me to study.
Let’s me play, but questions too much.
Scared to show him the report card.
He likes Munna bhai more than us.
Why can’t he scold Tauji and tell him that his mother is my Grandmother and not his?
Babaji – When I was 10:
Wakes me up early and forces me to read maths tables.
What’s the obsession with good handwriting?
What’s with the drinking milk every morning? I don’t want to.
Run upstairs and start studying, the minute I see him on the main gate back from office.
How much is a good score? Everytime he just says, Can do better.
Babaji – When I was 15:
What’s with being punctual and disciplined? Big deal.
What’s with early to bed and early to rise?
What’s wrong in reading novels?
Why should everything be done so perfectly?
Why should I always speak in a low tone and obey everyone around?
Why should everything be spic and span?
Why should I always take permission?
Babaji – When I was 20:
Narrates his childhood stories
Calls me laaddo now :-)
Trusts us more than his sons.
Has given us complete freedom, with the confidence we will never misuse it.
Enjoys talking to us more than anything.
Chats with our friends, like he’s chatting with his friends.
Is upset with R, but I guess both are upset with each other for weird reasons.
Takes our opinions and shares his view point. (Open-house)
Sometimes gets upset with Dad, which he discusses with us.
Became ill and got bed-ridden.
Babaji passed away in 2006. I did not cry, because I felt that I haven’t lost him. I knew he will be with me always in some sort of a habit or thought or act and I do feel him around. Today as I look back, I think about all those habits that he inculcated in me. I realize the meaning of that strictness now. I realize the importance of those talks now. I now see the difference he has made. I understand the value of his presence in my life. I understand the meaning of living life with self-respect now. Those words which he said made little meaning to me as a kid, but today when I recall those same words I see the impact that has made subconsciously.
For me to walk in the right direction I only need to ask myself one question, “Will Babaji be proud of me?” and if the answer is yes then it’s THE direction.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
My 1st Grey Hair
Today I saw my first grey hair. My first reaction was “Yeh baal maine dhoop mein safed nahi kiye hai” ;-)
I don’t know whether I am wise now. At 23, am I supposed to be WISE? Naaaaa. Am still playful, naughty, funny, slightly responsible and answerable (to myself), learning lots of different things, discovering self, enjoying every beautiful day, and yes I do miss my Resoniaa days (wish I recorded at least one of them), that was the only time I believe we were living in a dreamland (can never erase them).
I see myself being neutral and self-dependent. Thanks to the extra baggage which is now delivered at the right address. I don’t know whether it’s right or wrong, but I don’t miss my family now. I do care for them, but I don’t miss them. I want to live on my terms and I am enjoying this totally.
So what was your reaction when you saw your first grey hair? Please don’t tell me you colored your hair :-)
I don’t know whether I am wise now. At 23, am I supposed to be WISE? Naaaaa. Am still playful, naughty, funny, slightly responsible and answerable (to myself), learning lots of different things, discovering self, enjoying every beautiful day, and yes I do miss my Resoniaa days (wish I recorded at least one of them), that was the only time I believe we were living in a dreamland (can never erase them).
I see myself being neutral and self-dependent. Thanks to the extra baggage which is now delivered at the right address. I don’t know whether it’s right or wrong, but I don’t miss my family now. I do care for them, but I don’t miss them. I want to live on my terms and I am enjoying this totally.
So what was your reaction when you saw your first grey hair? Please don’t tell me you colored your hair :-)
Saturday, November 15, 2008
BASIC Work Etiquettes
This is especially for those who overlook the basics of work etiquettes.
Reach office at 10.30, where you should have been at 9 – FAILED the 1st basic work etiquette
Enter a meeting 5 minutes late – LOST the 2nd basic work etiquette
While in a meeting, wander away from the point of discussion (this happens too often and I hate this) – SCREWED the 3rd basic work etiquette
Lost in personal thoughts (rather affairs) and working absent-mindedly – BOTCHED the 4th basic work etiquette
Postpone important matters/meetings/discussions/decisions – DISMISSED the 5th basic work etiquette
Criticize people. Instead of criticizing the work done (politely) and teaching the right way of doing it. - RUINED the 6th basic work etiquette
Forget to reply back (Don’t care to revert) – CARELESS about the 7th basic work etiquette
Fail to listen – IMPATIENT on the 8th basic work etiquette
My Favorites from Fountainhead
If I found a job, a project, an idea, or a person I wanted – I’d have to depend on the whole world
It’s so much easier to pass judgment on a man than on an idea. Though how in hell one passes judgment on a man without considering the content of his brain is more than I’ll ever understand. However, that’s how it’s done. You see, reasons require scale to weigh them. And scales are not made of cotton. And cotton is what the human spirit is made of – You know, the stuff that keeps no shape and offers no resistance and can be twisted forward and backward and into a pretzel.
The shortest distance between two points is not a straight line – it’s a middlemen
Do you know what you’re actually in love with?
Integrity. The impossible. The clean, consistent, reasonable, self-faithful, the all-of-one style, like a work of art. That’s the only field where it can be found – art. But you want it in flesh. You’re in love with it.
It’s so much easier to pass judgment on a man than on an idea. Though how in hell one passes judgment on a man without considering the content of his brain is more than I’ll ever understand. However, that’s how it’s done. You see, reasons require scale to weigh them. And scales are not made of cotton. And cotton is what the human spirit is made of – You know, the stuff that keeps no shape and offers no resistance and can be twisted forward and backward and into a pretzel.
The shortest distance between two points is not a straight line – it’s a middlemen
Do you know what you’re actually in love with?
Integrity. The impossible. The clean, consistent, reasonable, self-faithful, the all-of-one style, like a work of art. That’s the only field where it can be found – art. But you want it in flesh. You’re in love with it.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Fraction Of a Second
Have you ever realized the importance of a fraction of a second?
No?? Neither did I until now.
That one fraction of second if once lost cannot be regained,
That one fraction of second if once gained can never be lost.
How many such fractions of time do we live to live for?
How many such fractions of time do we wish to erase?
Sometimes we wait for years to feel that one fraction of second,
And when it finally comes, we are unable to hold it.
How I wish I could just record all those fractions I yearn for,
Only to play, pause, or replay each second, to re-live it till I live.
No?? Neither did I until now.
That one fraction of second if once lost cannot be regained,
That one fraction of second if once gained can never be lost.
How many such fractions of time do we live to live for?
How many such fractions of time do we wish to erase?
Sometimes we wait for years to feel that one fraction of second,
And when it finally comes, we are unable to hold it.
How I wish I could just record all those fractions I yearn for,
Only to play, pause, or replay each second, to re-live it till I live.
Blank Happiness
Sometimes when I question myself about what happiness is,
Or what is it that can make someone happy,
I go completely blank.
When I question myself, when was the last time I felt happy,
I go completely blank
It’s a strange thought, but how do I know I am happy today,
What would it feel when you are happy,
Is there a true happiness??
Happiness means differently to different people,
Till date I am unable to discover my happiness.
Is it material, a person, a gesture, a fact? What is it?
Most don’t find time to think about the actual happiness,
And simply believe they are happy.
Some say they are happily married, others say they are happily settled,
Do they really find happiness in it?
May be they want to believe they are happy,
And the belief of being happy makes them think they are happy
Guess that’s why it’s said human mind is tricky
Because only a human mind is capable of fooling itself
And how innocently or rather proudly one lives in this foolish world of happiness
Making oneself intentionally believe that he is happy.
Or what is it that can make someone happy,
I go completely blank.
When I question myself, when was the last time I felt happy,
I go completely blank
It’s a strange thought, but how do I know I am happy today,
What would it feel when you are happy,
Is there a true happiness??
Happiness means differently to different people,
Till date I am unable to discover my happiness.
Is it material, a person, a gesture, a fact? What is it?
Most don’t find time to think about the actual happiness,
And simply believe they are happy.
Some say they are happily married, others say they are happily settled,
Do they really find happiness in it?
May be they want to believe they are happy,
And the belief of being happy makes them think they are happy
Guess that’s why it’s said human mind is tricky
Because only a human mind is capable of fooling itself
And how innocently or rather proudly one lives in this foolish world of happiness
Making oneself intentionally believe that he is happy.
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