there is definitely a pattern to evolution.
each generations gleans from the mistakes of the former. yet there is always space for more mistakes. as you undo mistakes of yore, the threads are so vastly complicated that you invariably step on a few toes.
our forefathers would always fires fires in open spaces. the next generation discovered ways to control the great flame. us, we have redefined it's usage, method of creations and at times, even form of creation.
In the process we loose a bit of our former selves, paving way a species that is different in thought, form and communication from it's very own origin.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Monday, May 4, 2009
Wandering, wondering...
It is a strange zone, this. I wait in anticipation. A few sentences wait in the wings. When they show themselves, they could change my world...or not.
Oh how it does bear down on me, like a faulty leak in my mind. Am I in or am I out? Up until last evening I wanted in. Now I'm no longer sure.
How do I know if it's all a terrible mistake? I was just thinking a while back, pondering over how we have so many options and dreams.
I wish life were a jigsaw puzzle and each dream or wish a part of it. That way I could flip the pieces around a bit and figure out what's amiss.
Am I working towards who I'm destined to be? Do I even believe in destiny? Am I throwing caution to the wind or was I meant to fly this way.
I always thought I decided about me. Increasingly, to my dismay, it is not that way. There are simply too many strings attached. I give it hard thought. I've never known life in any other way.
It's tempting I must say, to break free and steal away. Far from this high strung and intrinsically wired spectacle that has come to replace my life.
So easy to judge; so difficult to open up,learn and accept. Stereotypes and preconceived notions have taken over everyday life.
Oh how it does bear down on me, like a faulty leak in my mind. Am I in or am I out? Up until last evening I wanted in. Now I'm no longer sure.
How do I know if it's all a terrible mistake? I was just thinking a while back, pondering over how we have so many options and dreams.
I wish life were a jigsaw puzzle and each dream or wish a part of it. That way I could flip the pieces around a bit and figure out what's amiss.
Am I working towards who I'm destined to be? Do I even believe in destiny? Am I throwing caution to the wind or was I meant to fly this way.
I always thought I decided about me. Increasingly, to my dismay, it is not that way. There are simply too many strings attached. I give it hard thought. I've never known life in any other way.
It's tempting I must say, to break free and steal away. Far from this high strung and intrinsically wired spectacle that has come to replace my life.
So easy to judge; so difficult to open up,learn and accept. Stereotypes and preconceived notions have taken over everyday life.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Snake-charmer's politics
Dad was expecting a high profile drama arrest last evening. Varun Gandhi claims that the ‘statements’ aired are but fragments of his original speech. Never-the-less Lalu was up-in-arms and in full defense of the hindus. Each is said to have gone to the extreme proclamation of cutting off body parts if such a cause arises.
For the longest time we ended up switching between Mayawati’s political moves and Sharad Pawar’s ‘tight-rope’ balancing act. It is indeed amusing to watch the struggle for power. Made me wonder if any of them remember the original reason why we opted for democracy. It merely seems to be a power game, about who’s on top and how to dethrone them.
Campaign manifestos are but bells and whistles in the tussle to gain political clout. Bills and laws merely aid in gaining more points on the political mileage meter. There are no trusted allies and definitely never any out and out enemies.
It’s a delicate dance around the gold pile; and it’s not for betterment of the voters. T'is but a snake-charmer's politics, led by the tunes of the power-hungry.
For the longest time we ended up switching between Mayawati’s political moves and Sharad Pawar’s ‘tight-rope’ balancing act. It is indeed amusing to watch the struggle for power. Made me wonder if any of them remember the original reason why we opted for democracy. It merely seems to be a power game, about who’s on top and how to dethrone them.
Campaign manifestos are but bells and whistles in the tussle to gain political clout. Bills and laws merely aid in gaining more points on the political mileage meter. There are no trusted allies and definitely never any out and out enemies.
It’s a delicate dance around the gold pile; and it’s not for betterment of the voters. T'is but a snake-charmer's politics, led by the tunes of the power-hungry.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Randomly sloppy, inanely nutty
I stayed late, again. It doesn't matter 'cause after six thirty my mind stops working.
Did not carry lunch today. Forgot that little fact just at lunchtime.
A dull headache steps up post work hours and won't stop till I get home and gorge on dark chocolate plus strawberry fruit.
What a day. I have one trip coming up this weekend, two at the end of the month and one possibly at the very beginning of next month. Phew!
Coordinating parents, stealthy trips and work trips! What a juggle!!! In the midst of it all work hits me smack in the face. But it's not as bad as I anticipated. My job list was not picked up.
Now a two day old creation, it lies about languidly in my files, updating itself when a new one is added or an existing, finished. Reminds me to call and pester those who can actually finish the work assigned.
A languorous few months, no attention to that which has been pending for long. So long that it doesn’t matter anymore.
The day it does, I will finish it and flee the scene.
No stock of the D80. The next options are either twice my budget or not quite as semi-professional as I’d like ‘em.
I keep wondering after what could have been. Can it still be? Of what use is design, if it can not free.
A slack-jawed mind on Thursday eve. The only accompaniments are dinner and these alphabetized keys.
Did not carry lunch today. Forgot that little fact just at lunchtime.
A dull headache steps up post work hours and won't stop till I get home and gorge on dark chocolate plus strawberry fruit.
What a day. I have one trip coming up this weekend, two at the end of the month and one possibly at the very beginning of next month. Phew!
Coordinating parents, stealthy trips and work trips! What a juggle!!! In the midst of it all work hits me smack in the face. But it's not as bad as I anticipated. My job list was not picked up.
Now a two day old creation, it lies about languidly in my files, updating itself when a new one is added or an existing, finished. Reminds me to call and pester those who can actually finish the work assigned.
A languorous few months, no attention to that which has been pending for long. So long that it doesn’t matter anymore.
The day it does, I will finish it and flee the scene.
No stock of the D80. The next options are either twice my budget or not quite as semi-professional as I’d like ‘em.
I keep wondering after what could have been. Can it still be? Of what use is design, if it can not free.
A slack-jawed mind on Thursday eve. The only accompaniments are dinner and these alphabetized keys.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Chic-lit
Chic-lit is definitely the best kind of read, considering that any reading I get to do these days is very interrupted. These pick-me-up books, fraught with much drama, emotions and inane amounts of detail, make for a fab read ‘cause they connect with every girl at some point.
There’s the wacky working relationships, the too-close-for-comfort family [even the non-existent family makes a reasonable number of appearances] and the gaggle of girls who are also the very best of friends. Despite the ability to rip each other apart, out of sheer exasperation, they come out bright, shiny and headed toward contentment.
Lauren Weisberger’s Chasing Harry Winston is one such good chic-lit read that had me quite absorbed from start to finish. The 3 girls in the middle of it all are quite believable in what they do. Sometimes the urge to laugh along or gasp in shock is just irresistible.
The book is written well and the author makes you feel like you understood the characters just as well as the best friends understood each other. On another level, it’s a relief to read that even in fairy tales, happily-ever-afters are not things you stumble onto, it’s something you make happen.
There’s the wacky working relationships, the too-close-for-comfort family [even the non-existent family makes a reasonable number of appearances] and the gaggle of girls who are also the very best of friends. Despite the ability to rip each other apart, out of sheer exasperation, they come out bright, shiny and headed toward contentment.
Lauren Weisberger’s Chasing Harry Winston is one such good chic-lit read that had me quite absorbed from start to finish. The 3 girls in the middle of it all are quite believable in what they do. Sometimes the urge to laugh along or gasp in shock is just irresistible.
The book is written well and the author makes you feel like you understood the characters just as well as the best friends understood each other. On another level, it’s a relief to read that even in fairy tales, happily-ever-afters are not things you stumble onto, it’s something you make happen.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Chocolate and Steel: Jewellery
Here's a site with some very interesting jewelry. very kitsch and artsy, the designs are quite innovative and fresh...
Chocolate and Steel: *.*.*.*GIVEAWAY*.*.*.*
Chocolate and Steel: *.*.*.*GIVEAWAY*.*.*.*
Friday, March 6, 2009
Of stolen glances, love and companionship.
She'd wait at the stand everyday, looking for just the right seat that'd come her way. The foot-step's a bit too high, but for a glimpse of him, she'd tarry on that way.
Further down the route, he'd wait his turn. Would he see her today? T'was tough to fathom why he felt this way. A strange sort of palpation overcame his being until he saw her, only to turn to a nervous pitter-patter of his insides when their eyes met.
She did not think it was possible, after all that has past, to be so deeply affected by the very sight of him. Waiting to catch that stolen glance, she'd break into a smile so intense, she felt it reach the depths of her soul.
"Is it possible?" they wondered, as they dropped notes in folded kerchiefs. Her's were delicate shades of mauve and beige. His, large, white squares, inlaid with simple cross checks. It was a thrill for each, held close to the face.
Intense route studies were pursued; clocking the accuracy of various transport options, they looked for that perfect home. They found it and their few belongings slowly but rapturously followed.
They fled their respective homes altogether, to stay at with each other at their new home for what's left of forever. It bewildered their children [and grandchildren], how their own mother and father, at this considerably mature and responsible age, could ever behave like teenagers this way.
Further down the route, he'd wait his turn. Would he see her today? T'was tough to fathom why he felt this way. A strange sort of palpation overcame his being until he saw her, only to turn to a nervous pitter-patter of his insides when their eyes met.
She did not think it was possible, after all that has past, to be so deeply affected by the very sight of him. Waiting to catch that stolen glance, she'd break into a smile so intense, she felt it reach the depths of her soul.
"Is it possible?" they wondered, as they dropped notes in folded kerchiefs. Her's were delicate shades of mauve and beige. His, large, white squares, inlaid with simple cross checks. It was a thrill for each, held close to the face.
Intense route studies were pursued; clocking the accuracy of various transport options, they looked for that perfect home. They found it and their few belongings slowly but rapturously followed.
They fled their respective homes altogether, to stay at with each other at their new home for what's left of forever. It bewildered their children [and grandchildren], how their own mother and father, at this considerably mature and responsible age, could ever behave like teenagers this way.
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