Run Jackals, Run!!!

Well... the idea of this blog came to me when I saw a couple of people and wondered how many jackals would they have killed between them? Didnt get me?! Lemme illuminate while, my frens, you ruminate!

From where I come, its said that after 100 jackals die, a evil person is born. Now the people who lead the path to this thought are heavyweights where 'Evil Quotient' is concerered. I think, they can give the evilest person on the planet a good run for his/her money. I used to, the operative word(s) here is 'used to', think that more often than not people are good by nature and only situations/events, both past and present, cause them to act otherwise. Apparently, this theory of mine isnt gonna hold good for long (read observing serious discrepensies!) 'cause I know whose door should the World Worldlife Fund guys knock for endangering the enitre jackal species!

But the foremost question for me is was my premise correct in the first place? What makes a person evil? When the good part fades away from his (or her) soul? Now, everyone has different threshold. It takes an earthquake to shake the fundamentals of some while a slight tremor in life is sufficient to shake the ideals of others. Strange beings, we humans are! Very strange indeed.

We're going round and round

We're never gonna stop

Going round and round

We'll never get where

We are going

Round and round

Well your gonna miss me

Cause im getting dizzy

Going round and round

Round and round

(A thousand apologies Ms. Gomez!)

Mirror Mirror on the wall, whos the racist of us all?!

Once, quite some time back now, a person from West accused me of being a racist and the reason for it was that I had aired my opinion about a certain set of regional channels. Now lemme re-phrase the above sentence. Once, quite some time back now, a 'firang' accused me of being a racist and the reason for it was that I had aired my opinion about a certain set of regional channels. I bet, u can actually picture the person in question better now (sad as might be). I was just being racist here, wasnt I, now?!

In a country such as ours, with such diverse cultures, creed and class, racism is inevitable, no matter how much its condemnable. This, for one thing, is for no other fact but for the ease of identification.

Take me for an example, I belong from a particular community and I have used a particular term very very recently to explain the same fact to a darling buddy of mine. If I am an A, I am an A. If a B, a B and the list goes on. Why the taboo with the usage?

People in a lot of countries have been driven to the state of paranoia before mentioning anyone or anything of ‘color’. We, on the other hand, have a much more complex system of differentiation. All men and women, for that matter, are not equal. That’s the hard and bitter truth. Innumerable coats of sugar are not gonna change the fact. Now that thats's established, lets focus on the taboo part, shall we?!

I, believe, myself to be a neutral, open-minded person; but I, too, have been guilty of the same classification. Such a behavior can be eradicated only if the belief is inculcated in each and everyone’s mind that every human is equal. But there lies the quandary – the same is not true. How can you make everyone believe in something which is not true, in itself? Looks like a pretty hard task to me.

Just a bad day!

Well... the question that I needed a popular opinion for is - If someone had a bad day, does it allows him/her the privilege to be rude to others?

I think I have my ample share of 'I-Hate-Everyone' days... might have been triggered by incidents or people. Do I have the luxury to spread the foul mood around? Well, this mortal, was very recently, on the receiving end of such a thing and that started my wheels rolling.

What is the ideal way of dealing with such a situation? I, usually, declare it upfront... bad day, monstrous me... you don't wanna talk to the zombie right now. But then, there must be other ways of dealing with it... Calling the wiser beings out there...be kind and fill me in, will ya?!

One more wassap and m getting my gun!

One more 'wassap' and I promise you, I'll get a gun.. and I can guran-damn-tee that you wouldn't like the sight! For the love of God (though m a non-believer, but this is a mighty useful phrase, nonetheless, n credit should be given where due)... so for the love of all things divine, ban that damn phrase. Creatures of mundane existence (read me), don't have things up and running all the time. For that matter, ever at all!

Its mid week and m blue... for that matter, m blue every day of the week other than lovely blessed Friday eves... Oh the Friday Eves... oh... stop, m getting carried away here and that would suit the post at all!

Talking of blue, I was wondering the other day how did colors get associated with emotions and moods? One fine day, someone took a paint brush and said, black I banish you to mystery land... green go and burn in pangs of envy... red, come and flare my passion?!

How did it all begin; cuz we sure can see, how it ended!

An earlier version of me used to view the world in black and white... never allowing greys to sweep in... but now, my oh my, is the species grey or what?! $%^# Black, for that matter $%^# white too!!! Grey is the new mantra..

Do you wonder?! Wonder about others? Ever wondered about yourself? Ever realized the truth behind someone else's words but afraid to second them?! I wonder... I wonder a lot! Even though the world amazes the daylights out of this mere mortal, I never cease to wonder!

Of Smells and Flashbacks

Today, on my way to office, with the city blazing by, a few, were busy tarring the road. The smell of tar, it took me back, back to a life time ago. When things were much simpler and life, life was definitely, kinder.

For me scents, odour, aromas, the various things that tease our olfactorys, are vehicles to take a ride to the different me, to the different world. The smell of moth balls, paints my Granpa's home infront of my eyes. The ancient thing appeared to be there since forever. So old, older than time, itself. The attic which looked so foreboding, with monsters threatening to snatch and make you one of their own. The perfect specimen on earth flashes before the eyes, when the hint of his smell lingers around you. Memories, locked, ignored, lost... beckon you.

Memories triggered by smell... Which you'll never forget. Ever.

A tryst with heavy metal

So, yesterday, this good ol' female went to a death metal gig... Oh Dear Lord God Almighty!!!

Most of the crowd was in their mid/late teens n early twenties... everyone, evidently, loved black to the hilt (I being one of the very few who begged to differ in their love of black)... I was there mainly on the behest of my lovely school buddy... Well, for a metal-ignorant person like me everything was new and quite dramatically different. I could see the teens moshing... For the other fellow ignorants:

mosh (msh)

v. moshed, mosh·ing, mosh·es

v.intr.

To knock against others intentionally while dancing at a rock concert; slam-dance.

They were slamming alright... I would have never understood the meaning of 'Silence is golden' if not for yesterday's experience. Not that the guys were not good, rather I guess, they were very passionate about the music that they were playing. I could hear two very ardent fans discussing the skills of each band that had performed during the event. I wanted to voice the fact that everything sounded more or less same to me. I was wondering how would the people in the room react if I suddenly made Mika (not the terrible specimen of our species, here m talking about the French singer, mind you, before you protest, can the guy pitch his voice, hell yeah!!) or John Mayer sing to them? Run shrieking out of the room?! Now that would be some sight!

Well... since good times seem to fleet at super-sonic speed, this never ending gig did end, eventually :P

And all the metal lovers, before you lynch me to death, please consider... here stands before you, a music-ignorant pop and classical-rock fan, who cannot differentiate between two people screaming their lungs out... Darling, be my guest! Scream and bring the whole city down... Afterall, don't we all live in a free country?!

Long time, no see

I guess.. long time, no see, would be quite an understatement here. Why do we write things? Help me here to understand this? I could never dare to write one more word in my diary after my "capable-of-giving-a-cat" a severe inferiority complex curious bro read my diary... Anyways, that was millenniums ago... So, back to where we were... why do we pen our thoughts down? Well, each one to his own... I bet there be quite a few reasons behind that one!

Well.. I, for that matter, m writing after 3 years... quite a duration, must say... n I do hope the the number of added candles on Mr. Cake do have put some added wisdom in me. Talking about wisdom, isn't a little over-rated? I mean, how do u actually define a wise person? Someone who knows that he is in a ditch when he is in one? (He is just a mere pronoun here, I bet, a lot of shes are there in their own royally dug ditches!) And what effectively describes a fool? One who doesn't known when he is being taken for a ride? But then, who's fault is it anyways? The one being ridden or the rider (now stop your evil brain clogs and don't you even dare think about any hideous pun). The other day, some one told me, my, you were a fool back then. Well, I beg to differ... I wasn't a fool rather I 'was un-world-wise'.

Everyday, I see people around me, becoming 'world-wiser' by the second. How sad, if the whole world becomes the wisest version of itself, what about the 'poor' wise riders?! Sad, all the being-ridden(s), would, then, be gone.