The science of Probabilty

You gaze at the statistics with a sort of disdain. "What are the chances?" you ask. Well statistics, the math of probabilty. The science which hopes with a desperate endeavour to somehow break the unpredictability of the chaotic system of this universe. Until it does,we flesh filled beings with a central nervous system, will hardly use what is central to us. Instead relying throughly on an uninvestigated forces strung together loosely by a thin precarious string of hope and faith. After all why take a chance? Yet when the forces of nature conspire and hatch that diabolical plot to send our emotional nerve centers into a tizzy, our entire primitive semi solid vessel is flooded with a gush of overwhelming substances. Echoing through us is a sudden impulsive desire to turn that delectable smile into a worrisome frown. Our innards sink. Our blood pumps. My brain does the overtime and plays the all too famous rat in a maze, relying once again on that fickle line of thread. Oh! yes you see the bright flashy aura which you know you must head towards. Its so soothing, because its there waiting to be conquered and soaked in. Yet! Somehow, somehow you cant come in physical contact of this mysterious entity. Your vision compels you. You keep persisting. You tire. YOu are human after all. YOu stop, imagining a wonderful alternate reality; Bright sunlight, music to your ears, colours to your eyes, perfume to your nose. You look at that mysterious halo and resume your horrendous recovery plan. YOu kno its possible. IS IT NOT? I ask you IS IT NOT? Strands of that thin thread begin to snap and roll back. It is inevitable now. Wait for time to take its toll. What life awaits me ahead? DO i have a choice?THis is my new life. They said i had a good chance this would not happen. "Chance" I somehow fail to understand the use of this word. Sadly my friend there is no rule in English language that says any word should have a significance or purpose. Sadly it still remains and I have been the victim of it.

View off my terrace

Scattered remains of a puissiant monsoon trailed behind its back in the form of thin vapou of clouds. They skimmed through the lower layers of the atmosphere dispersing the white reflected light of the moon into a concentric ring of flamboyant primary colours. The slhouette of the neem tree blocked the rest of the panorama but somehow rendered the view unnaturally beautiful. It was dark with specks of the stars casting their cliched glamour to the dark empty setting. They were the spoil sports; the stars that is; they somehow always steal the credit for making the empty blackness of space a sight to behold. Yet i looked past them to see the less illustrious benefactor to the picture. Somehow I felt that the clouds covering the sectacle of the distant shimmers of light served them right. It was an act of eating humble pie. Yet all this drama, orchestrated by the most grandest and effluent of non living entities. Whoever said life is dramatic needs to seriously reconsider his observations.

Powers back got to watch 30 Rock ... :)

Double perspective

I stare at you. I stare at you with a disbelief.
You look back and scorn with that hate charging you like a bull.
The buzz of electrical activity causing the mild paranoia.
While you accuse me of crimes beyond my culpability.
Only the accused can understand the pain of being accused wrongly.
I am confused whether to feel sorry for your mistaken identity
Or to feel enraged by your melodramatic overture.
Flashes of short instants.
I can see the sea of divide widening.
No wonder they call it the blues.
All hope and trust on humans just oozes away.
Enstranged by my own kind.
Prisoner to emotions in a free world.
The worthlessness of a sacrifice.
Oh how i want you to know the pain of being a unsung hero.
The feel of being killed by an abstract being called hate and vengence.
Is true happiness merely an illusion.
And so the God mother closes her book of fairy tales,
Kisses her kiss goodnight.
Because she knows life.....
Is so much easier in dreams.

Breif glimpse of glory - The Coorg story

A shroud of white cloud encapsulated the bus. The moist mountain breeze blew past the TUF glass window. A lazy push with my thumb created an opening large enough for me to indulge my five senses in brief and euphoric bliss. The wind whistled into my ears; the nose picked up the scent of drenched mud and floral fragrance; the mouth tasted the blandness of water; the eyes gazed upon treacherous slopes giving way to a panaroma of nature's masterpiece; the wet palm shivered, pale from the frigid maelstrom of water and wind. Yet the mind, the devil that it was, burned like fire. Ignited by a fiery combination of the great elemental forces (earth, fire, wind and water) of life itself. Nirvana, suddenly had become more than just a word! The sylvan landscape of Coorg, it seemed at least for now, had lived up to its reputation. My limbs and buttocks were numb from lazy lack of use. All the blood in my body seemed to blindly rushed into my head trying to feed a growing provocative beast, leaving precious little for the other parts of my material self. I was in a delusion, intoxicated by a prosaic albeit colorful setting. A land so alien and different to our usual environment.
My friend twirled around to question me for the astute silence which i had displayed for quite a significant portion of time now. I muttered a word or two about me enjoying the scenery around which suprisingly appeased her curiosity. The truth was that i was not in a position to give a lengthy descant. And all this while I had never taken my gaze off the blurring imagery outside. I suddenly had this impulsive desire to close my eyes. My head was spinning overheated by its own blaze. The lids grew heavy and i gave in to my primal urge. My consciousness slipped away slowly as my sub conscience took over. It felt good like i was being put to sleep by Gaia herself. And so ends my story only to pave way for a new one. The saga shall continue when i return again to this wonderful land. But for now a bleak reality lies waiting for its next victim........ :)

What so great about this video....? It was made in the 80s

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Well ... hahahahahahahah ...brilliant

"indeed you can join bannedage group.....banned age group: the new community opened for ardent fans of the new Rock sensation Banned Age.....with an illustrious list of 8 members watch your television sets carefully for more on these teen sensations....."

approved by the ibro(copyright) community of BMS college

Feed back:Mal(member of masis foundation): Oh Banned Age how romantic....

Manuja(another member of masis foundation): (same as above...) ..i love bandage and IBROs rule ( subject to change as informed by the masis community)

Chaitra(Coach of lead singer Abhax): Oh they are so good i forgot my badminton ... :(

Karthik R (loafer nan magne): see banned age and rock band are the same...no they are almost the same ok not really the same (after frivolously shaking his hand)

Banned age.......Ashthey

The martial arts from the orient is very popular. Imagine if you could kick the bad guys ass and save a girl from the evil villain how many girl friends you could have. One to talk to in the morning , one for evening and then one for night parties. Of course i would then employ an idiot side kick who would do the hard work for me and i get the credit ( of course i would feed him in return ). Well the point of this article is to emphasize the fact that i want to learn karate. The mystic martial art from japan. Of course i would then i would wear my black leather belt to keep my loose fit pajama from plummeting and flaunt my "black" belt. I would then show my bare upper torso with a chiseled 6 pack flabs ... i uh uh uh ... mean abs. I would be able to flex so much i would be conveniently be able to scratch my head with my toe nails. Well the best part of course is that I could make Manaswi beg for mercy ... :D ...... Of course girls would go gaga over me but i shall refuse all their advances and show my "level". Then i will try my hand at becoming a super villain. Ok i am bored of writing ..... Super powers activate!! ..... Got to save the world from doom Bye!!!!

A Musical heaven

At this moment i am relaxed listening to a wonderful song by The Frays : How to save a life. It has a wonderful meaning and tune. Its igniting and lovely. I am swaying my head as i listen and my mind is in heaven. To double this treat I watched a great series from BBC world called Planet Earth. The photography is so spellbinding that i am made sure that this world is a beautiful place to visit. Its so captivating that I am so penchant to traveling. My life is going to be an adventure. I will go to all parts of this planet and see every part of this great planet. I will swim its every ocean, walk through all its beaches, climb is great mountains, Trek through great jungles, I will meet new people, those who consider me as being different. Change is exciting. Live and remember your great experiences because when they are over you must find new ones. Everyone will experience something special and relate to special people. I hope that my special moment comes at the right time. You must be wondering why i am writing so haphazardly ..... Its because these are a direct download of my present state of thinking ..... The only person who can make you feel sad or happy is you. Don't blame anyone for your state of anxiety or dejection. Because as far as you know as you are reading this remember YOU CAN JUST WALK OUT AND CHANGE THIS WORLD....right now!!! You can just take your bike and ride to some place of great beauty. Or catch the next bus to a retreat and enjoy unmatched mental peace. The only people who can understand you are ones who can relate to you. Its foolish to ask a deaf person to listen to a song and enjoy its melody. It then becomes your responsibility to understand another's predilections and realize that they too have a way of looking at this world albeit in a different way.

The Purgatory

I glared back through the 'brown' specked glass at a cloud of billowing dust which streaked through haphazard tarmac of the dilapidated highway. All this because I could not bear the sight of a dizzy woman regurgitating her day before dinner. At the short glimpse i had i could make out undigested pieces of fish. That was repulsive enough for my senses to go into overload. My brother turned around and watched my reaction ending his analysis with a sadistic chuckle. The waft of odor almost hit me before i got up and walked over to the adjoining aisle of seats.
Trying to force my mind to flush out some of the vivid and grotesque flashback of the past five minutes, I gazed out of the window. It helped, as the panorama was awe inspiring. The cool humid wind on my face and aroma of salty water and sand with small whiff of palm trees and scented Deodars was enough. The water was emerald green and the sky azure. My chariot was a semi rusted red box with wheels attached to a muddy shaft connected a 1978 Tata 6 cylinder 4 valve Diesel engine which seemed years beyond its acceptable date of retirement. Yet it negotiated the twisting roads with comfortable ease, pacing an acceptable 40 Km/h on the average. The sun was bright over the western sky exactly opposite to the direction in which i was trying to look and exactly in the direction of the stream of stomach fluids which were dripping onto the seat. In front of me was my brother half asleep and once in a while woken up by the fierce jerks of our caravan wagon.

It was the second day of my trip to the "Emerald isles". The Andaman and Nicobar islands are small group of islands very close to Malaysia and a part of India. I was in South Andaman journeying my way to an exotic place called Chidiyatapu. I somehow sensed and anticipated great unpredictability in our journey. But thats what excited me. Somehow I told myself after a very stomach churning experience that my adventures are just beginning, and some how knowing my destination would rob the very element of my expedition to this wonderful place. Comforted by this truth i continued to gaze wishing i had a computer in front of me so i could tell my tale and my current surge of thoughts through a blog at that very instant. My renditions would help people understand one thing about great travelers:

" The greatest journey, adventure or travel is one in which you have the least idea of its outcome."

Wisdom from a fool .... :)

The foolish ending....

There has to be some instant in life when you looked upon an event in retrospect and lightly chuckled to yourself thinking how silly and puerile you were. Yet at that moment you live in an illusive fantasy that the present day 'you' is the more wiser 'you'. And in an endless circle you continue to look back and ridicule yourself , and ultimately die a fool! Born a fool and die a fool after giving birth to more fools to continue your legacy of foolishness. And as you count the number of 'fool's i have mentioned here, please don't forget to add yourself in the count.

Hypocrisy

Its interesting how I classified this comman trait of expressing ones mind process as a moral dillematic outburst of unconventional lack of self control in the emotional tangent. The more rudimentary way of describing it would be calling blogging an act of expressing the inner most feelings for people who seem esoteric and seperated from the more opaque world. Normal people call them insane. But i guess being invisible to the naked conscience is a trait so characteristic of great minds. Not to say that conventionality is a ominous sign of a straight predictable life.
Writing begins at heart and carries itself into the screen. A potential exalt of sporadic and chaotic thinking in the form of words leads to a a large amount of sludge which hides small specks of pure diamond. Then very elemental constructs of a great works of art. Why do i tell you this and make a complex foray into a seemingly mindless topic ...? Well read on
Few days ago I was caught telling a friend of mine that Blogging is for people with a depression and that i dont consider myself in that scene. But it seems the candle finally singed the moth and the deluctable and attracting flame led me into this business afterall. Well it seems i have got some explaining to do. But it is one way of expressing my talent. I believe I do have it and hate to think otherwise. Some wise men call this positive thinking... I call it pure arrogance. Let my art do the talking.
Science says you cant be a genius without losing something equally valuable. Most genius' lose their sanity. I guess it makes a little sense to loosen your screws in your head just so that you get that 15 mins of self acclaimed fame and gleefully call yourself a "Genius".