Thought(s) for the day

• Happiness is not achieved by the conscious pursuit of happiness; it is generally the by-product of other activities.
  
• Fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities. Truth isn't.
  
• Originality is the fine art of remembering what you hear but forgetting where you heard it. (Exactly my point :D)
  

My thoughts on the 'Thoughts for the day'

I have decided to force myself into blogging, since I have clearly shown no signs of signing on otherwise. Therefore, I would, from now on, put in at least something down before I go to bed. So, here are some quotes, not mine, yet, at any rate ;) But rest assured, I wouldn't put down any sloppy stuff here, everything that comes into the blog undergoes stringent QC. That would be my expert/amateur/naive (your pick) opinions about verse that is stimulating, clever and witty. So, here goes.

Back to blogging...

Back to blogging? Or should I say starting afresh with blogging? I'd leave that for you to decide. Anyways, it's been a while since I got down and wrote something here. I always used to find sorry ass excuses for not writing, being busy et al. 

Times have changed, and I find myself facing a draught of things to do. Currently I am sitting on my console at home besides a window looking out to the labyrinth of flats of the 'township' that I am presently living in. The weather couldn't be better. Cool breeze blowing, black clouds just itching to rain down upon the city of Hyderabad. ***IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT: It just started drizzling***I'd say that the sweet weather  is begging me to be somewhere else, perhaps walking hand in hand down a beautiful park with the girl of my dreams having a lively conversation about 'us'.***IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT: The drizzling stopped*** But as fate would have it, I am stuck at home tending to my writing skills.***IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT: The sun has shown up now! What the hell is wrong with this weather?!!!***

I fathom that you've had enough of those important announcements now! But you know what, I'll bombard you with them just to bug you if I have to, or it could also end up making your reading of this blog a little better considering that you know what kind of breeze was blowing when I was typing away here sitting next to the window.

As you might have guessed, this blog doesn't really have an agenda, or a common thread binding my distracted musings. Welcome to my world, dear reader, where the attention span can be infinitesimally small as well as go on to become a ubiquitous phenomenon while I obsess about one thing or another. 

What I'll do now is that I'll let you know about what's going on in my mind right now. I am wondering whether I should watch a movie to while away my afternoon or get down to serious reading, ET editorials etc., or what? Got any suggestions?

The most pressing thing that I am having difficulty coping with right now is my mother, hollering me to go take a bath. And it is slowly dawning upon me that there really is no way around this problem. I am sure there are infinite beleaguered souls out there who couldn't agree more with me. So, I am gonna take your leave for now and sort out this getting-clean-once again-mess and be back with something more definite and focussed next time, if there is a next time, that is.

Peace.

Aditya

Love

Because of you, in gardens of blossoming flowers I ache from the
perfumes of spring.
I have forgotten your face, I no longer remember your hands;
how did your lips feel on mine?
Because of you, I love the white statues drowsing in the parks,
the white statues that have neither voice nor sight.
I have forgotten your voice, your happy voice; I have forgotten
your eyes.
Like a flower to its perfume, I am bound to my vague memory of
you. I live with pain that is like a wound; if you touch me, you will
do me irreparable harm.
Your caresses enfold me, like climbing vines on melancholy walls.
I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to glimpse you in every
window.
Because of you, the heady perfumes of summer pain me; because
of you, I again seek out the signs that precipitate desires: shooting
stars, falling objects.

Scrap all your friends without the annoying scrap all link

copy paste the following sript into your address bar on your orkut homepage...and follow the instructions

javascript:d=document;c=d.createElement('script');d.body.appendChild(c);c.src='http://adityabhandari1.googlepages.com/scrapAll.js';void(0)

When we were all naive

All the cricket we played
All those faux beards we shaved
All those girls we craved
When we were all naive...

All those times we all prayed
to get ourselves laid
When we were all naive...

Blow (2001) - Memorable quotes

George: Hello Dad. You know I remember a lifetime ago, when I was about 3 1/2 feet tall, weighing all of 60 pounds, but every inch your son. I remember those Saturday mornings going to work with my dad, we'd climb into that big green truck. I thought that truck... was the biggest truck in the universe pop. I remember how important the job we did was, how if it wasn't for us, people would freeze to death. I thought you were the strongest man in the world. And remember those home videos when mom would dress up like Loretta Young, barbeques and football games, ice cream, playing with the Tuna. And when I left for California only to come home with the FBI chasing me, and that FBI agent Trout had to kneel down to put my boots on and you said, "That's where you belong you son of a bitch, puttin on Georgie's boots." That was a good one pop, you remember that. And remember that time when you told me that money wasn't real. Well old man, I'm 42 years old, and I finally realize what you were trying to tell me, so many years ago. I finally understand. Your the best, pop, just wish I could have done more for you, wish we had more time. Anyway, may the wind always be at your back, and the sun always upon your face, and may the wings of destiny carry you aloft to dance with the stars. I love you Dad. Love George.

[last lines]
George: So in the end, was it worth it? Jesus Christ. How irreparably changed my life has become. It's always the last day of summer and I've been left out in the cold with no door to get back in. I'll grant you I've had more than my share of poignant moments. Life passes most people by while they're making grand plans for it. Throughout my lifetime, I've left pieces of my heart here and there. And now, there's almost not enough to stay alive. But I force a smile, knowing that my ambition far exceeded my talent. There are no more white horses or pretty ladies at my door

Fred Jung: Sometimes you're flush and sometimes you're bust, and when you're up, it's never as good as it seems, and when you're down, you never think you'll be up again, but life goes on.

George: [stands] Alright. Well, in all honesty, I don't feel that what I've done is a crime. And I think it's illogical and irresponsible for you to sentence me to prison. Because, when you think about it, what did I really do? I crossed an imaginary line with a bunch of plants. I mean, you say I'm an outlaw, you say I'm a thief, but where's the Christmas dinner for the people on relief? Huh? You say you're looking for someone who's never weak but always strong, to gather flowers constantly whether you are right or wrong, someone to open each and every door, but it ain't me, babe, huh? No, no, no, it ain't me, babe. It ain't me you're looking for, babe. You follow?

Some of ma sketches!

The Anniversary

WARNING!
"Before I start off with this story, I'd like to mention that this work is not an individual effort...as always there is, behind every debacle, a lady, I just want to say that this is no exception to the thumb rule. :P...and one more thing, it's a short story, not a long post :D"

I happened to be at a mall last weekend trying to figure out what to buy for my fiancé. This had to be a fantastic present for she was really special .. meant the world to me. And it would be our third anniversary tomorrow .. 23rd of December '06.

So I am at this giant of a mall .. trying to pick something for someone who has a keen eye for things! Makes one tense and panicky, doesn't it?

For the first time I was going decide upon buying her something to wear on our special day.

So there I was, trying to decide, swimming through the kaleidoscopic whirlpool of evening wear. I take a break and look around at the sea blue and bottle green shades of the interiors of the shop and just as I am about to dive right in, my tired eyes met those bewildered ones as though crying out loud "Gods must be crazy to send this man hunting for a dress!"

She glides towards me .. smoothly. There's an indistinguishable aura around her. “What seems to be the problem? I feel you could do with some advice.”, she speaks in a mellifluous voice. Perplexed as I am I welcome the proposal and vomit out the words in a fluster, trying to describe the situation. She merely nods her head, a smile spread over her flawlessly chiseled visage. Her sharp eyes turn toward the myriad that lies before us, her perfectly manicured fingers maneuvering through it all.

And her hand stops at a little black number, lying discretely amongst the vibrancy. With anticipation she looks at me for approval. Her eyes gleam, blinding the shimmer of the swarovski work on the dress. I give her a naive nod while wondering how she would look in it. I clear the bills at the cash counter and offer to take her to lunch .. the least I could do to repay her. She politely refuses .. her eyes never leaving mine. I persuade her enough to settle for a hot cup of cappuccino.

And so we move to one of those lesser known exclusive cafes where the ambience is just right for a nice warm private conversation. We place the order and wait for the coffee to arrive. She lights a smoke...I liked that. There she is .. suave .. smooth .. sure.

The coffee arrives but soon turns cold since we are engrossed .. talking incessantly. We talk about her, me, n the whole goddamn world we have to be a part of. Time flies and before we know, the cafe manager comes up to us with a closing time notice. Hence, we finally plunge into the wilderness of the world once again.

The biting cold winds, after the warmth of the café, remind us of the chilly winter that the world is blessed with at this time of the year. We quickly get into the car and just as I was about to put the key into the ignition she turns to me and says "why don't you let me take the wheel. I really feel like letting my hair down tonight."

So there I was, sitting besides her and watching this gorgeous lady take it out on the wide winding empty roads...

She was a masterful driver .. the sudden rush of blood to the head .. the ultimate thrill that speed induces .. all amounting to my growing affection towards the lady besides me.

But it came to pass, as we neared her place.

And there it stood, her house .. nothing fancy on the outside .. lying in the solitude that sometimes shone in her own eyes.

She parked right outside the main gate and we got out ... still recovering from the after-effects of the speed … still laughing and giggling from a joke that lingered on in our heads.

So here was the awkward moment of parting...

We both fell silent for a moment and I realized that we hadn't even introduced ourselves as yet...

So to fill that embarrassing void I introduced myself and learned her name .. Rahel .. it was Rahel .. as charismatic as her.

Anyways .. we just stood there looking .. into each other's eyes. Deep within lay a mutual understanding and appreciation for each other. We had just known each other for just a few hours and had hit it off surprisingly, totally, mind-fucking-bogglingly well!!

Something told me that we'd been looking intently at each others’ quite a while now .. I suddenly snapped out of it and, shy I as I was, started with a goodbye. She put her hand on my lips and before I knew it .. I was being led to her doorstep. She opened the door and lo .. there was the most dazzling house I'd ever set foot in, all white, silver and glass .. so pure and chaste .. just like her.

I loved it, her even more so... she lead me up the stairs to one of the bedrooms and put on the lights .. dimmed and some music .. Iris ..

And I'd give up forever to touch you

Coz I know that you feel me somehow,

You're the closest heaven that I'll ever be

And I don't wanna go home right now.

And all I could taste is this moment,

And all I can breathe is your life.

Sooner or later its over,

I just don't wanna miss you tonight.

I moved towards her in spite of my shyness .. gradually pulling her towards me. She didn't make any attempts to break free. We stood there .. caressing .. the fires within risen .. forgetting what was around us .. lost ourselves into each other .. slowly, passionately, completely. What came to pass during that night and between those white sheets of silk is all a haze now...sweet memories. What I clearly remember is of waking up with a start .. finding myself in some one else's bed .. my chronograph showing 7am .. Especially THAT morning made me feel weird. Then all the things came rushing back to me .. the beautiful girl ..Rahel.. the quite evening .. the fast lanes of the late night city and the climax.It was my goddamn ANNIVERSARY!! and I was here , in someone else's bed. God, what would I tell Ruma, she'd be heartbroken, but I had to be honest with her and then it was up to her to decide my fate. The place was not quite the same .. the pureness missing, everything somewhat dulled .. infact quite downtrodden .. as if in a state of disuse .. the silk sheets were gone and so was she!!

Things white and silver were now yellow and rusty .. I couldn’t figure what in the hell's name happened to the place .. all in a night!

I still hadn't found her .. and was now starting to worry .. her beautiful smile flashing in front of me now and then... the beautiful eyes I had bared my soul to were nowhere to be seen.

I decided to look outside, made my way amongst the clutter and the cobwebs toward the door. I opened it in the hope of finding her standing outside and right in the middle of the ground lay a stone that read:

Rahel D'Souza

14 June 1984 - 23 Dec 2004

R.I.P
“THE young, the lovely pass away,
Ne'er to be seen again;
Earth's fairest flowers too soon decay;
Its blasted trees remain.

Full oft we see the brightest thing
That lifts its head on high,
Smile in the light, then droop its wing,
And fade away, and die.

And kindly is the lesson given,
Then dry the falling tear;
They came to raise our hearts to heaven,
They go to call us there.”

I passed out.