Each year leaves an impression, a change in you that cannot be felt at once. You shall not notice it even if you look back and ponder for hours at end. But it does. Each year brings with it new experiences, new emotions and most importantly, new people into your lives. These people, and the experiences you share with them are what define and refine your personality.

I started my blog around a year back, and haven't looked back ever since. Over time, I've read so many wonderful blogs of some of the most talented writers I've seen. Writers may not even be the right word...rather expressionists in the literary sense. They paint pictures with words and let loose emotions that are only felt but not shared, but these artists of words make that possible, with beautifully woven words and intensely expressed emotions that I fail to comprehend at times. To all these wonderful bloggers, I bow.

I love each and every blogger that I follow, and it isn't humanely possible to feature every single one of them, but I shall try my best in more than one post.

So, here's the first ever feature on my blog for my friends and fellow bloggers. I love all you guys!

P.S. I am a dick when it comes to featuring people, since I don't know what to write about them.

mysterg - Meditations in an Emergency
Mysterg is one with a charming personality. I've only recently started following him. He writes often and writes great. His meditations, when not cracking you up with his wit, will take you soul searching through his eyes and leaves you knowing yourself better. One awesome person whom I simply cannot stop reading.

Some of my favourite posts from him:
To whom it may concern
Sexy Time with Mysterg (simply coz it got more hits on his blog than anything else :P )
Talkin' bout my Generation - 2

Cheryl - Confessions of a Twenty Something Year Old
Another blogger I started following recently, Cheryl is funny to the core. A proud canadian, she'll talk about all the shit on earth, and some really cool stuff too, from Dating Wednesdays to the recently added Rant It Saturdays. One awesome blogger!

Stuff worth checking out:
Talking to your parents about sex
After a week of freedom, I am back to slaved labor and censorship, which is cool, I guess.
Taking baths with another person is weird

A sHiT-fOr-TaT
A crazy collaboration between a smart-ass, a gujju south-Indian, a romantic dreamer and a
sarcastic hero, S4T is one of the first blogs I started following. The shittiest to the wittiest takes on current affairs, their own affairs, digging up B-grade movies for their own benefit(s). These guys know their shit. Quite literally.

Check out these bloggers independently too. Each is a crazy person in their own right. So be careful.


Some Shit for your benefit:
Hey, what's your name Basanti?
The Tring-tones!
Downside UP! (For the sheer effort in reading it and the time wasted in the process.)

Esther - Wearing an Invisible Crown
Her posts are sweet, funny, random, but they never fail to leave a smile on my face. Esther has one of the biggest hearts I've ever known, online or offline. She writes from personal experiences and memories and she's awesome.

Check out some of hers!
Random friend requests
A Situation I hate to be in (one I totally identify with)
On my Birthday (the one that made me fall in love with her BIG heart.)

There's a lot more to come. This new year's day, I've made a promise to myself that in the coming three hundred odd days (Sundays are holidays. Come on!) I shall achieve whatever I set my mind to. No procrastination. No excuses.

Happy 2010 everyone!
Hope the Mayans are wrong and we live another hundred years!!

Doesn't it have a tangy, spicy feel to it? I love salsa, especially with spaghetti. I'm forever ready for some, whatever the dish may be. But this. I definitely wasn't prepared for this kind of salsa.

After dinner, I went over to Anu's for some dessert and lessons. I've always been a good student. Things come to me quickly and I learn fast. Tell me to shake a leg though, and the world would come crashing down. Hence my pudgy(no, cuddly!) appearance. Salsa was no less, I can tell you that. Moreover, being that geeky-good-boy-who-respects-girls, I was even more embarrassed with it. Add to that two left feet and what you get is a recipe for disaster waiting to happen. But Anu, she's a smooth sailor. She knew I'd get cold feet or cold something.
So, as we stood in her living room, she put on some latino music.
"Nice." I said. "So when do we start?"
"Right now!" and she caught hold of my hands and pulled me close before I could even react. I didn't know what to do! I panicked and started swaying my hips all over the living room.
"Easy tiger! There's no rush. Relax and feel the music. Move to it, not against it." she said, but all I heard was my heart thumping in my head. She put her hands to my hips and started gyrating it to the rhythm.
(I swear, I've never been so nervous! And excited. In more ways than one.)
"This is how you move it. Now, one foot to the front, one to the back. Good! You're getting there.." She kept encouraging me.

A good half hour of stamping on her feet and apologizing a thousand times found me getting the hang of it, and easing up a bit. Although, I was still so afraid I'd get too aroused for my own good during the really close bits of it that I dropped her a few times flat on her butt.

Salsa's a latin dance that's supposed to excite and arouse while being sexy and smooth. And as Anu kept picking up the pace bit by bit, it got faster and crazier. She'd swing her legs left, right, center, sometimes around my leg, sometimes between them, twisting, swinging, my arms just following her lead, holding her in ways I'd never imagined. My mind was a flurry and my body was a blur. My heart was in my head and my ears filled with music. Time flew and so did we. From the in-your-face kick-ass girl next door, I saw the hot, sexy part of my neighbour and closest female friend. And she was one hell of a teacher too. She'd shout at times, encourage at other times, bearing with my inexperience as I tried to cope as fast as I could, trying to learn a dance form in just three days.

Well past midnight, her mom finally shooed me away with threats of locking me out for making too much noise. But I'd made progress. Good progress.


The days flew by and it went on. School hours spent talking to Neha, evenings at Anu's.

The Christmas ball was on a Saturday. Come Friday, after school, Neha asked me meet her at the mall. I was quite surprised. She'd never called me for something like that.
"Probably everyone's coming, just to hang out or something.." I told myself. Oh how wrong I was.

She met me at the entrance to the mall. She wore a black shirt and a white skirt with a pattern of lilies on it, and the wind blew her hair across her face so she had to brush it across. She's always had this little tuft of hair that would fall cutely over her eyes every now and then.

Me: "Hey Neha! What was the rush?"

Neha: "No rush. Just wanted to beat the evening crowd. Plus, this way, we get the whole mall to ourselves." and she gave a small grin.

As she said those words, I almost heard violins playing in the background and a quartet playing a love ballad....
"Also, there's so many..."
...with us dancing in open space at the mall, turning round and round, twisting, twirling...
"...Have you been listening to me? Hello? Earth calling!"
I was brought back to reality by Neha pulling me into the mall.
"Come on, we've got shopping to do, and you're helping me buy my gown."

Women's shopping and me? What if there's those two piece suits? And lingerie? I'd be so embarrassed! How can I even pick out dresses for her? Is she serious?

Oh My God!

Next time:
A dress and a dance!

Chapter I
Chapter II

IIT - Powai, and IIT per-se has the reputation for holding the big motherload of all college fests, Mood I, one that went international recently. Today evening saw more than two thousand rockheads gather at the amphitheatre to rock in unison to the beats of the Big Daddies of Modern Indian Rock, and personally one of my favourite bands, Parikrama:

These guys are freaking insane! And not just in the heavy rock/metal influences, but they have this brilliant blend of violins, synthesizers and guitars. It was rock bliss! Five hundred heads at the frontlines, hands raised in tribute and heads banging to the rhythm of the heart-thumping drums savoured every chord and every note that emerged from the vocals and guitars.

And then the band, THE band, took over. Porcupine Tree.

Now, I've never been this HUGE rock/metalhead. Sure, I love rock and love music. All genres. But there's something to rock that draws me to it. Still, I won't call myself an afficianado. However today was a different experience altogether. First Parikrama, then Porcupine Tree. For the entire duration of the concert, around four hours, I was pushing, shoving my way in the crowd up front, with the lead vocals screeching into the microphone and the crowd going wilder and wilder with each successive scream. As you wade through the sea of bodies, all you can see are raised hands, swinging heads and the distinct smell of burning weed, the three most distinctive features of any rock concert worth it's rep.

On my way back, I took an autorickshaw. The rickshaw driver was a really intersting fellow. Now allow me to just divert from all this for just a moment. We all feel that there's poverty all round. Beggars at traffic signals, slums all over the city and I've heard so many people complain that either the government is not doing anything, or the slum dwellers themselves are so used to begging that they do not want to improve their own lifestyle by working hard.

But what about the ones that do want to work?

This chap, my autorickshaw driver, has a Diploma in Computer Science. His father has a rickshaw business and whenever one of their rickshaw drivers are not available, he drives that rickshaw. He's been doing this since he finished his high school when he saw that his father's financial condition was not that good. Today, he has a stable job at a company in Panvel, which, for you non-Mumbaikars, is around an hour and half's travel from anywhere in Mumbai. One that pays him Rs. 16,000 a month. Kind of like what my first salary was too. What he does is he gives 15,000 to his parents and keeps 1,000 to himself. Imagine the dedication.

How many of you even think of sharing the spoils of your labour with others, let alone give it to them, be it your parents or siblings? Very few. I'm sure of it. It's in our nature.

But it doesn't end there. This guy works a regular 9-5 job, comes back home in a packed train. Then takes the autorickshaw for night duty and finally returns home at around 11 p.m. and that too only after he's earned a minimum of Rs.200. And trust me, travelling in trains is a mess, especially to Panvel.

I could have described all this in better language, detail bla bla...but I'm too tired, and my brain fell asleep ten minutes back.

It was an awesome concert, a thought provoking conversation with an interesting chap. And I also splurged in two thousand rupees worth of novels.(Yea yea...before you say hypocrite, I had gift vouchers. I don't splurge.)

I'd say it wasn't a half bad day at all.

So, with my body aching in places I never thought possible from all that headbanging and jumping, and droopy eyes just waiting to hit the pillow, I bid all you farewell and goodnight. I shall get back to dreams of "Neha" and our salsa dance, which I've been putting off writing for God knows what reason. Guess I want to keep it as a beautiful thought in my mind for just a bit longer.

Cheerio guys!

These are the books I bought:

First chapter - here

It's a date.

Those words were on my mind all night, and the next morning as I waited and waited outside my class for her so that we could walk to our seats together. She didn't come. The school bell rang and my teacher came bustling in and urged me to my seat. But she didn't come. I spent the rest of the school day imagining all sorts of horrible things that my adolescent mind could dread have happened to her.

"And if x equals four point five.." droned on Ms. Lata, our Algebra teacher.
Maybe she was hurt...a broken ankle. Poor thing.
"then the square root of this equation is?" Or malaria? There have been a lot of cases around lately.
"Second bench..? What is the answer?" Maybe she'd fallen off a cliff! I shuddered.
It's a wonder how your mind jumps from the sublime to the ridiculous in a matter of seconds. But at the worst possible times.
"Young man? Are you even there?" My bench partner Raj nudged me. I nudged back, lost in thought.
"Young man! This is class! You can sleep all you want at home. Now give me the answer!" And with a sharp rap on my desk, I was pulled back into reality with a stern looking teacher breathing like a bull in front of my nose. I swear I could see her breath billowing from her nose.
After a few prods and nods and fifty different hand gestures from Raj , I finally got the answer and was allowed to sit back and resume my dream.


That evening as I dropped by her house to check up, I was greeted by her mother at the door and the smell of fresh pancakes in the kitchen. Her mom made the best pancakes and chicken sandwiches in the world. Armed with a plateful of pancakes, I entered her room. She was fast asleep. Have you ever seen a baby sleep? It's the most wonderful sight in the world, as if there's not a thing in the world that can worry it's little soul. She sleeps like that. I stood there, watching her chest move up and down steadily, sound asleep. I wish I could have stood there all day. As I placed the plate beside her bed, she woke up with a start.

Neha: Hey, how did you get here?

Me: Your mom let me in, obvious na? You're on the fourth floor. I can't just jump in through the
(Lame joke, but she smiled.)

Neha: Yeah. Well, what are you doing here anyway?

Me: You were missing in action at school. And I brought you homework, courtesy Miss Lata. She went ballistic on me today.
(yeah..and tell her about my daydream..)

Neha: Lata, and angry at you? I don't believe you. You're the teacher's pet.

Me: Daydreaming isn't one of her favourite things you know.
(Just don't ask what I was dreaming about!)

Neha: What were you dreaming about? Wait..forget that. Are we still on for this weekend? I'll be up and about in a day or two. It's just mild food poisoning I think. No biggie.
(Phew! I was about to die out here!)

Me: Definitely. Wear shoes though. My fat feet can really hurt.
(Yes. More lame jokes. That should impress her alright. Idiot!)

Neha: Haha...get lost! You're not that fat anyway. Cuddly, but not fat.
(Ego boost times ten! I could have sworn I was growing wings!)

Me: Well, I'd better get going. You get some rest and I'll see you at the ball.

Neha: Bye!


I don't think I've ever been that excited ever! And scared. What if I really do tread on her toes? What if I fall down? What if I fall down ON her? What if she never shows up? No, she could never do that to me. Could she? What if, what if, WHAT IF! Aah...I was driving myself nuts with so many useless questions in my head. What I really needed to do was learn to dance. In four days. Fat, pudgy me(but also cuddly), had to learn ballroom dancing in four days!
Four days!! I didn't have time!!
I rushed back home and called up Anu, my neighbour. She'd been learning the salsa for quite sometime now, so I hoped to goodness she'd teach me.


"ANU!" I shouted over the phone. "Emergency! Need. Dance. Quick!" I ate half the words my mind wanted to say. But she understood anyway.
"Sure! Easy. When?"
she replied.
That was the thing with Anu. She never needed explanations or reasons. If she felt it was worth doing, she'd do it.
"Start tonight if possible?"
"Come over for dinner. We can start in the living room. I'll tell mom you're coming."
"Awesome! You're a lifesaver, you know that?"
"Yes I do." I could almost see her lopsided grin as she said those words.


Next time:
I find out how easy(or tough) salsa really is!
(And spicy too. In the naughty way as well.)

Chapter I
Chapter III

She was the one. I didn't know it at first. Who does, right? It's not everyday that you meet someone and think, "Man, she's awesome!" Well, it wasn't for me either. In fact, I barely even remember how we first met.

Back in school, I was pretty much the good-studious-decent kid in class, at least as far as the teachers thought. Also the students. But at least I wasn't a geek. Fat, but not geeky fat. Just a bit pudgy. She was in my class in the eighth grade. Sat right behind me in fact. Sharing lunch boxes, chemistry notes and gossip was all we did. Back then, hooking up was the last thing on my mind, more so, hers. For then, we were friends. Just friends.


Days went by, Neha and I became really close friends. She remained in my class through the ninth and tenth grade. We'd share so much during school hours. But after school, we barely met. Twice a week actually. My tuition classes were very close to her house, and on my way back, I'd often call her down just to have a chat. One day I shouted out her name, and her mom came to the window and said, "She's not at home beta, out with her friends."
I remember taking the long way home, just so I could think of her. My evenings weren't the same without her. We'd sit on a cement block near the nice man selling chaat outside her house, talking about all the nonsense in the world till one of us got called away by our parents. It was fun, easy, carefree. I'd drift away with the magic of her voice. Now here's something about Neha. (Neha...what a name. I can say it all day long..) She wasn't what you call hot. Neither was she extraordinarily beautiful. But she was charming. Everything about her was. The way she spoke, the way her eyebrows wiggled slightly when she got excited, the way the small dimple formed on her left cheek when she smiled. Everything. And her smile...Oh her smile. Her entire face would light up whenever she broke into a smile just like a thousand diyas had suddenly been lit in front of her. Each time she smiled, the room glowed with her presence. But one thing that I'd stare at were her eyes. I never realized what ""eyes are the gateway to the soul" meant till I looked into them.


One day she called.

Me: Hey Neha.

Neha: Hi. Are you free?

Me: Yeah, sure. What's up?

Neha: Listen, the christmas ball is coming up, and there's a dance.
(My heart skipped a beat. No, two. Actually three.)

Me: Yeah....so?
(Stupid stupid me! Was that the best I could come up with?)

Neha: Well...umm...
(Oh come on! Ask already! I can't ask you now, can I?)

Me: Hey, what's it? Say na.

Neha(going all high and squeaky): Please be my partner!...not like, y'know...just as...erm....y'know....right?
(Oh man! The best thing that could happen to me! I almost stopped breathing.)

Me: Yea, sure. I'd love to. But you know I can't dance right?
(If ever there was an award for worst things to say at wrong times....)

Neha: Neither can I. So we're even then. It's a date.

Me: It's a date.


A date. That was the best word I'd heard all day. I ran all over my room, played the loudest music, did the ball dance with my pillow, tried kissing it goodnight. (tastes awful by the way) My mum was very amused and pulled my leg all night long. But I didn't care. Something I had dreamed about for the past four months was finally coming true. And it would, in a week.
That night, as my head touched the pillow, the only thought in my head was of Neha in a gown, her arms around me and soft music engulfing us...

Next time:
I prepare for the dance of my life!

Chapter 2

(Left to right: Abhishek, Jahnvi, Yours truly, Karen, Zubair, Neeraj, Alisha)

Gosh! It's been almost a month, and what a month it's been. Pressure, studies, CAT...crazy stuff. But all that comes later. Coz today was my birthday.

People say you find your true friends in the direst and most trying of situations. Situations that test your bond. That test your trust. That's of course true. But in no way is that the only way to know who your true friends are. Because, today, I realized what friendship is all about. It's not about all that mushy stuff, being there all the while, doing things for you....that's all valid, yes, but it rarely happens in day to day life doesn't it? A friend is someone whom you care about, someone you can be yourself and more with, and they won't judge you either way, because they know you in and out.

I used to think a 21st birthday is all about spending time partying, drinking, celebrating your step into the "adult" world. Bullshit. In the end it all means nothing, because what you do doesn't really matter. What matters most is whom you do it with.

I'd imagined my 21st birthday to be a HUGEass house party, with all my friends invited, lots of booze, food, music...the works. That had been my stereotypical "dream" party. Today, I spent half the day giving the CAT examination for my MBA entrances. Surprisingly, it was easier than I thought. Then I had a nice long peaceful lunch with the woman I treasure the most in my life, my mom. She's the best thing that can happen to a son. Evening found me roaming my childhood streets with the closest of my school friends. Dinner at a Kiva lounge brought good food, a nice light round of drinks and some awesome conversation all through. That's when I realized what friendship is all about. With friends you can talk shit. With friends you can do nonsense. With friends you can fuck around all you want. They don't judge you. I use these terms because I'm at a loss of appropriate words that lay such emphasis to the feelings or emotions attached to them. You've known each other for so long, you've known each other so well, it's immaterial how you are around them, coz you are yourself. So, after this freaking amazing party, that involved no dancing, no drunk episodes, but still remains a memorable night, and sitting at my computer, half-drunk, typing away what comes to my mind as my heart overflows with gratefulness for all the wonderful persons I call my friends, this is dedicated to each of them who were present today:

Abhishek Sharma:

Crazy-ass die-hard romantic emotional awesome friend of mine and first part to the Dil Chahta Hai trio :D I've known him for the longest time possible. Donno what I'd do without him. Donno what I can do with him either. Go figure :P He's the most sensitive guy I know, yet he can take the hardest of decisions. Gets the most shit from me, gives little back in return. He's one of the most awesomest guys I know, and one of my best of best friends.

Siddharth Khanna:

Another one of my super-childhood friends.(Super-childhood means long long back, when the birds and bees were singing :P ) He's damn sweet, not too crazy, but is best known for his lameass jokes. We've started rating him on his lameness and he's supposedly very very proud of him as he feels it'll be his oscar calling. Our main cash man and one we lean on for all our transport needs(since he was nice enough to drop my drunk soul halfway home :D ), my friend Sid is the perfect second part to the Dil Chahta Hai trio.

Zubair Syed Kadri:

Third part to the trio. Self proclaimed bachelor yet heartthrob of many, he makes heads turn with his boyish charm at college, and stays aloof from the girls. Yet after a good round of ice-breakers, he complains of not getting laid. Typical Twilight material. (bad analogy, yet goes with the times :D ) My third and actually oldest friend, lives right behind my house, been with me for I donno how long and makes the best disaster-managed Veg Jalfrezi I know.(check out my Facebook album on Ali Baba and a Few Misc Chors for more details hehehe)

Alisha Iyer:

Super cool south Indian babe who never bats and eyelid before coming up with a lame comment, or the sweetest one. She's one fatang friend whom I can hang out all day long yet never get bored of. Junk and ragamuffin is her style, and her thoughts never wander far away from mine. We've shared the craziest of stories and had the softest of moments. It's a crazy mixed up world after all. Ali rocks!

Karen Aranha:

Aranha means spider? Did you know? Better known as PJ Doll, this chick is mad, bad, and in every way bindass. She's the reigning queen on lame jokes(Yes, they run in the group, but she takes the crown any day), and also the Sada Gajar(read rotten carrot)(no Archie reference, sadly) One gal who is always bubbly in person, semi-dead over the phone, but never really dull.

Ashmita Pol:

Better known as Ass(Although she won't let me smack it :P) She's easily the lightest halka phulka member of the group, but she's damn sweet. Also the one who Abhishek was secretly afraid of. She has a reckless mouth when she gets pissed and can give back more than her share of shit, which is awesome! We share the dream of travelling to the beaches of India and eating more and more to make her gain weight.

Jahnvi Vichare:

Got introduced to her recently. She's Abhishek's girlfriend. We've shared an immediate connection from the first time we spent time together. Our thoughts match to a crazy level, and personalities are similar to the core. It was an attraction that was a bit weird at first, but became really nice later. Poor Abhishek doesn't seem to mind when I flirt with her, but then, I flirt with everyone, so I guess it doesn't matter :P Still, Jahnvi was an immediate attraction, but being friends is a lot more cooler than getting stuff complicated where it doesn't belong. Either way, it's the bond that matters. As I said, friends are whom you're yourself with. With her, as with everyone else, I am.

Neeraj Gawde, another really close friend of mine was missing in action for his exams. Also, Anusha Joshi since she's away at Jhansi being the non-violent version of it's Rani for a friend's wedding. They were missed a lot.
(Gosh, that sounded like an obituary LOL)

Brings us to the end of this long dedication. I love you all! I've had probably the best birthday ever! I'm too drunk/tired/happy/high to post pictures of what we did, or the wonderful gifts that they gave me, but I shall tell you this, if gifts were a way of showing someone how much you know them, they know me the best!

You guys rock!

God bless you all.

Murphy is really after me. Sometime back, I had one of those days...you know, when everything seems to go smoothly till things come crashing down like a roller coaster with a loose bolt.
Guess what? One of those days turned into two.

Morning greeted me with cold and left me sniffling in the shower. I sniffed in so much, water ran up my nose, down my throat and out my mouth. And our tank had been chemically treated recently.
Do the math.

Sitting down with a glass of warm milk and toast, I started feeling quite dandy, almost over the morning's mishap when my hard disk crashed. And I don't even mean Windows. Although it does crash more often than our outdated fighter jets that the government's been trying to phase out for years.

Anyway, that crash left me devoid of all my movies and TV shows collected and recorded for the better part of three years and running. That comes up to around 400 GB of video.

The day can't get any better, right?

HELL YEAH it can!

Post breakfast I put on some clean clothes and run for class. Time for some music! But wait...my Ipod...You guessed it! The Big Red Cross. It's like the Apple version of the Windows blue screen of death. Apple ain't so invincible after all. But that's not the point here. My Ipod had some of my best collections...around 10GB of it, which of course, again went for a nice little toss down the scrapyard. Apple store tells me my pod is beyond repair and the only thing I can do now is to avail of a lousy exchange offer that gives me a Rs.2000 discount on a new ipod. Big deal!
Aarrgh!! I just want to strangle them when they say "Sir, I'm sorry but our policy doesn't cover data recovery." Frikkin policies.

Bloody Murphy and his stupid laws. It's all his fault I tell you. Someone should have given him a wedgie or something when he came up with his theories.

On my way back home from the apple store, a big
fat woman sits next to me in the bus. Now, I am by no means of small build. Covering more than half the seat's breadth, I can barely share shoulders on a seat for two with another guy my size(not to say I'm fat, but healthy is a better word :D ) Well, Madam Fat-ass comes and sits next to me with all the attidude and air of an overfed piglet. Shoving about a bit and literally squeezing my butts into the window of the bus, she makes herself comfortable(or as comfortable as I was not), gives me a look of disdain and softly says, "Kitna jaga lete hain log!"(How much space can people take up!)
HELLO! I heard that, lady! Try
not comparing yourself to a sperm whale for once and you'll know how much extra space you take up. I think the earth has tectonic movements just because you're at the gym doing jumping jacks. For that matter, can you do jumping jacks? Guess not.
And She Stinks!! Oh MY GOD! I've been with my share of women, but none positively reek! Did her perfume just rot?
An hour and half later(blame Mumbai traffic) I got off the bus, took in about fifty deep breaths of fresh air polluted only by toxic exhausts of autorickshaws and drove back home from the parking lot at Chembur.

What a day man! I'm glad to be back home, in front of my laptop.
(which thankfully hasn't crashed)
(it's been giving me screen trouble)
(might crash soon.)

Rant over.

P.S. Any "Awwww"s and "Relax"s will get a volley of nonsensical comments in unthinkably bad English(since I like to carry on my threats from the previous posts)

P.P.S. I am accepting Ipod Nanos and new Seagate hard disks. Please send me a mail with your choice of what you want to gift me and I shall get back to you within a few seconds since it's about a gift for me.

You may now return to your mundane lives.

Thank you.
He ran, blood pulsating in his veins. “No no no, I won’t go back to that hellhole!” The world was a blur. Muffled sounds of padded feet drew closer. They were at his ankles. A bolt of shooting pain as the canines dug into his spine and his body fell, limp.

A growl.



(Diya at my balcony)

It's the festival of lights. Each year I go out with my friends, have dinner, fire away rockets into the vast open skies and go "Oooh" and "Aaah" at the marvellous display of fireworks that light up the night sky. However, this year I'm stuck in a colony where diwali isn't being celebrated for "technical" reasons, and have no way of going out.

Sucks right?

Well, it did give me a chance to introspect a little bit.

Every festival, be it Deepavali, Holi, Christmas, Eid or Navratri, we never fail to send out a little sms or an email with Warm Regards and Best Wishes for the season. On the receiving end of practically a hundred sms's today, I started finding it weird that I wished for them to stop. They didn't really mean much.
Well, of course they do, you say?
Tell me, when was the last time you wished someone for a festival and really meant it? I mean really really meant it? Long back wasn't it?
In this age of super connectivity and extensive social networking, it seems we've ended up building such an insanely huge "friends" list that we often forget who our friends really are. But no, I'm veering off topic. The Warm Wishes right? Well, let me tell you, out of the hundred messages, most were SMS Forwards....shitty way to wish someone in my opinion. It's utterly impersonal. The only ones that really meant something to me were the simple one liners that said "Hi! Hope you're doing great this festival of lights. May this year bring you lots of luck, blessings and prosperity." It's formal, but written personally by the sender, not just a forward someone else sent out.

Little truly is more.

Introspecting takes you to places within yourself that you never knew even existed, especially when done sitting in the soft flickering light of a diya. With all the partying, hanging out with friends, living life as if there were no tomorrow, a lonely evening with my thoughts suddenly meant more to me.

With a little wish and a poem I shall leave you guys with the same thoughts that got me started at the beginning of this post. Do those forwarded messages hold any value, when sent by an acquaintance, or even by a close friend? Or do they leave you with a feeling of impersonal acceptance of a wish that you would rather not pay much heed to?

Sparklers of varied colors,
or by the humble diya's light,
We celebrate this very day,
for the defeat of wrong by right.
So with this message I pray,
may God's grace shine upon you.
Wish you a happy and safe deepavali,
and a prosperous new year too.

Shubh Deepavali everyone!
My cousin had a baby sometime back. Really cute lil bugger he is, named Aabir. The poor guy hasn't even learnt to walk but he talks like crazy!! Squeals all day long like the little piggy that went to town.

Sis: Where's my cutey-weeutie aabir? (and then proceeds to make all those weird giggly-gurgly baby noises that you're expected to make when talking to a baby so that they understand you. Yeah right.)


Then people start rushing in from every other room to say "AWwwwww"
It's like a television show I tell you.

But ever stopped to think what the little tyke must be thinking, lying in his pram, helpless and left with no option but to bear the torture?

Stranger bends over and gets REAL close to the baby: Aww...he's SHO CUTE!
Baby: Big Head. Might eat me. Quick! Act cute!

Stranger: Come to uncle Sam!
Baby(looking inside his nose): Oo! A cave! I see lions and tigers and bears, Oh my!

A stranger squeezes his cheeks.
Baby: Lemme get a hold of YOUR beard, big guy! Then we'll see who's the boss.

Alright, enough of small talk. Getting to the REAL issue here. Do you know why all kids, as they grow up, get obsessed with Fire Trucks? Do you? huh?
Oh you do?
Well, you don't. So let me show you.

As for all the little Fire-truck obsessed kids out there with pet Frogs - Yes, you too, the one with the ponytail and a moustache. Here's to your good health!

P.S. Posted this on the move. So don't really know how big it is or how it's gonna look.
Enjoy! :)
I've been clicking pictures around town ever since I bought a camera. I've always wanted to do a photoblog, but never got the initiative.
Procrastination sucks innit?

Anyway, I've a set of photos that I'd wanted to share with you guys.

1. FOOD!!
Sometime back, I went for a nice lunch with my family to the Taj hotel, Mumbai. Remember my chocolate fantasies? Well, enjoy a glimpse of some more :P

Clockwise from left to right,
- Vanilla Ice cream with Hot Chocolate Sauce
- Lemon mousse
- Apricot and chocolate cake
- Chocolate mousse with butterscotch cream
- Masala Chai concoction (which was my personal fave)
Oh and a choco-stick coz it reminds me of school :P

Cafe Vihar at Churchgate used to me a regular lunch home for us. The bar wasn't badly stocked either. Good for a quick beer or a rum or two after work.

From left to right:
Top shelf - Bacardi breezers, White Mischief, McDowell's, Director's Special, Bagpiper, Royal Stag, Imperial Blue, Smirnoff, Alcazar
Lower Shelf - Golconda, Old Monk, Signature, Antiquity, DSP Black, Blender's Pride, Royal Challenge, Peter Scot, Teacher's

1. And New Life:
A Red Whiskered Bulbul - This beautiful girl built her nest right outside my window. Expecting eggs soon enough!

She looks at me. Haughty gal, ain't she?

Posing away, checking whether I'm clicking or not.

Dear Adult,

Why is everything so complicated for you? You seem to interpret more than what anything really means. For anything someone says, they must have meant something by it. It must have had some ulterior motive. Else, why would they say it in the first place? You worry about us kids and scold us for messing up, even if the reasons may have been well out of our control. But when the same mistakes are committed by you, you shall go to no end to justify it.
We of course, have no say in whatever you do. How can we? We're just kids. How much do we understand worldly matters you say? It would surprise you to know actually how much we do.

Weren't you ever a child?
Do you not remember the simple things in life?
Running around the block, arms outstretched, flying off to far-off places in your mind? An adult does the same, he's put in a straightjacket and detained for life in a Godforsaken jailhouse for the mentally retarted. That must surely mean all children are born insane.

We hold hands when we walk, be it a boy or girl. It feels nice. That's it. Two young adults do the same, the boy is beaten up by the girl's relatives, the girl is publicly humiliated and blamed to have shamed the family's name. Surely the boy must have tricked the girl into holding hands. Then he shall run away with the girl, do bad things to the girl and leave her. All that speculations just for holding hands. Try holding hands yourself, with a friend if nothing else. Adults forget the value of companionship.

Everything has to have an ulterior motive.

Do you remember finding an extra chocolate and giving it to someone else and simply saying "Gift." Do you? An adult does the same and he's labelled corrupt. A box of sweets on diwali must definitely mean he's planning to come to you for some favour. Why else would he bother to send such an expensive gift to you?

Reasons reasons reasons. Why do you complicate stuff?

You blame us for making you worry. Yet, you fight amongst yourselves. Do you really think we do not know what happens behind those closed doors? You make us worry too. We observe, dear adult, and we understand more than you ever shall. Life's simple for us kids. It makes everything much much clearer. There's always some whites, some blacks, and few greys. Sometimes it feels like your life is just a mixed bag of greys.

These were just some of the things that I could think of. Truth be told, there's numerous others. You just have to look with your heart as we do. I request you, adult, to please act. Act now and save yourselves from the deep pit that you have dug for yourselves. Not everything is as simple as it appears. Yes you've told me so many times. Today, I tell you, not everything has to be so complicated. It's your life. Whatever you may say, it's up to you to control it.

Sometimes I feel growing up is a bad thing. Of what I see, adults stop listening to their hearts. I can still hear mine. It whispers to me whenever I go wrong. Try waking your heart up sometime. It's still there.
I have faith in you. Have faith in yourself.

Take care,

With lots of love and the biggest hugs my tiny arms can give,

Itching to write but someone's turned an off-switch in my brain. By the way, why is it called "itching"? I thought itching on your palms were supposed to be lucky. My grandma told me that if the palm of your right hand is itchy, then it foretells that money is coming to you. But you shouldn't scratch it as that stops the money from coming. If it’s your left palm that is itchy, then scratch away, as that means that you'll soon be paying out money.
So does that mean that if my nose itches and I scratch it, someone around me will fart?
Or maybe I will.
Better not try.

If your lips itch, press them together and make a wish. It shall come true.
I say if your lips itch, find a girl and kiss her.

An itchy foot means you shall travel. Or call pest control.

An itchy ear means someone's talking about you. So do hiccups. To stop hiccups, drink lots of water. So to stop an itchy ear, pour water down it.

Too many itches spoil the scratch. By the time you figure out what the itch means and whether you should or should not scratch it, it'd have gone anyway. Or you'd have gone mad trying to resist. Either way... :P

Italians say keep a wishbone and dry it in the sun. Touch it whenever you want to make a wish.
Here, a dry piece of chicken? Out in the open? Crow haven!

By the way, Wishbone was also the name of a storytelling dog on a TV show named after it that I used to watch when I was little. Now, where's the link....

Ah..here it is:
World Wide Wishbone
Cutest dog in the world I tell you.


Relationships affect a guy's IQ in absolute inverse proportion to the number of months that they've been going out...It's a smooth transition:

Superman - 6 months
Gentleman - 12 months
Watchman - 18 months
Doberman - 24 months

(readers are advised to keep their perverted brains under strict supervision. The visual representation above may be misinterpreted. Let no one tell you otherwise)

Then talks of marriage creep in and the whole process starts over again with the Doberman stage donning the appearance of Superman with the introduction of another factor that widens the scope of scrutiny, namely, the IN-LAWS!! *insert favourite music of dread and suspense*

Couples! They stick to each other like a fevicol ad. PDAs are a bit uncool now...keep it private...each time I pass Marine Drive I see couples battling it out under the hot sun with a minuscule umbrella to shade them. And by battling it out I don't even mean the sun.
All I hear in my head at that point of time is:
(Being a radiohead has a few downfalls. You always have a voice in your head speaking to you. Or singing.)


My browser Firefox Rocks! It supports so many enhancements.

There have been some MASSIVE upgrades since the last time I downloaded it :P


My friend taught me to dance last week. I have two left feet. So what happens?

Age old story - Rama gets exiled into the forest, takes Sita with him, and Laxman accompanies him as a loyal brother. Ravana kidnaps Sita. Rama joins forces with vanars and Hanuman to cross over to Lanka and rescue Sita.



Ramayana, a six-book series written by Ashok Banker weaves a world untold by mythology. Every move, every moment is described in so intricate a detail as to border on the verge of being explicitly descriptive. Each word draws the reader into the world of Rama, and not just from his point of view, but also through the eyes of the numerous other characters that are involved in building up this epic tale.

From the complex yet artistic dance of swordsmanship as the brothers fight hordes of Asuras to the raw electric power of the Brahmashakti surging through Rama’s veins; from the immense power of Hanuman as he searches Ravana’s palace in search of Sita to the ten minds of Ravana as he leads the Asuras and the militaristic genius of Rama's army, this book has it all.

It’s a worthy set for your shelf and a must read for any lover of fantasy and mythology.

An Exerpt from the first chapter of Book 1 -

The Prince of Ayodhya


The blow-heat of rancid breath against his face, guttural whisper in his ear. He snapped awake. Sweat-drenched, fever-hot, bone-chilled, springing from his satin bed, barefoot on the cool redstone floor. Sword, now. A yard and a half of gleaming Kosala steel, never out of reach, a bolt of lightning in his fist. Soft rustle of the silken gold-embroidered loincloth around his tight abs. Naked feline grace. Taut young muscles, supple limbs, senses instantly attuned to the slightest hint of threat.

He scanned the moonlit expanse of his bedchamber with the sharpness of a panther with the scent of stag in its nostrils. Barely three seconds after rising from deep, dreamless sleep, he was ready to take on a dozen armed men. Or worse.

But the bedchamber was empty. The moon was full tonight, and the room was caught in a silvery net, more than sufficient for his trained eyes to scan the princely apartment. Jeweled ornaments and regal furnishings gleamed richly in the silvered dimness. The far wall, some twenty yards from where he stood, showed him a pale imitation of his own reflection in an oval mirror framed in solid gold. He had heard enough descriptions of his appearance in kavyas composed by the royal bards to know what the mirror would have shown had the light been sufficient. A distinct dynastic resemblance, unmistakably related to one of those towering portraits of his illustrious ancestors adorning the walls of Suryavansha Hall. Classically handsome (the bards would sing), a fitting heir to the dynasty of the Sun: The reality was harder, leaner, and more austere. His piercing brown eyes, as sharp and all-seeing as a kite-hawk’s thousand-yojana gaze, scoured every square inch as he traversed the apartment with quick military precision, his movements graceful and flowing.

Also check out his other works on his site:


Girly image, yes, know. Get over yourself already :|

Okay, so I have nothing to do and feeling too lazy to move my fat ass to get the TV remote. Also, this month seems to be Tag-o-mania month...people have been tagging me left right and centre. Now I know how the donkey's bum feels like when people run after it with a needle and a tail.

No no...it's not a real donkey.
A paper....Oh forget it!

So, Insignia(intriguing name innit?) tagged me with this. Seems quite light, so here goes:

1. Grab the book nearest to you, turn on page 18 and find line 4 - "It was Narak the Demon-hunter who went to Imokoi and made a daring rescue" (The Simoquin Prophecies by Samik Basu)
(Any bengali should hugely enjoy this book. Half the characters and places are named after the bengali names for objects...super fun and actually a really good book)

Stretch your left arm out as far as you can & catch what? – My modem got knocked down :P

What is the last thing you watched on TV? – Last night - Shashuri Zindabaad - A bengali comedy on Zee Bangla.

(Ultimate dialogue - Your lips are like a slice of an off-season orange)

4. Without looking, guess what time it is? – 6:05pm

Now look at the clock, what is the actual time? – 6:16 PM....Decent!

6. With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?- Lots and lots of birds chirping, crows drowning out most of it...damn crows! They shit on my head one more time and I shoot on sight!

7. When did you last step outside? What were you doing? – At 4:00 pm, watching the telephone repair guys fiddle with our telephone connection.

8. Before you started this Q&As, what did you look at?- Other blogs, Facebook, Gmail and a Fullmetal Alchemist episode.

What are you wearing? - What's with the perverted questions huh? Who made this Tag?! X-(
Well, a white T-shirt and tracks. I'm off to the gym in 10 minutes.

10. When did you last laugh? – 5 minutes back when my friend called to tell me how he fell down in the bathroom and his.....erm...leave that for later :P

11. What is on the walls of the room you are in? – A HUGE poster, a switchboard, a mirror and shelves that hold my stuff.

12. Seen anything weird lately? – Yeah, two monkeys mated on my AC outside my window this afternoon while I tried to solve a problem on time and efficiency...Go figure...

What do you think of this quiz? Good way to spend fifteen minutes :D

14. What is the last film you saw? - Final Destination 3-D. It sucked BIG time. The story didn't even come close to the first ones. The 3-D effects were really good though.

15. If you became a multimillionaire overnight, what would you buy?- A Mercedes Benz SLR Mclaren, an Alienware PC pimped up to the max, HD Audio System with independent connections to each room in my house, including the bathroom, and a HUGE swimming pool in my backyard. Also, I'd buy over Pizza Hut :P (Dominoes needs you to be a multibillionaire)

Tell me something about you that I dunno!- I truly and deeply believe magic and the creatures of lore existed, and still do, just that they don't show themselves to us.

If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do?- The One World theory. If everyone in this world got along with everyone else, problem solved.

18. Do you like to Dance?- I dance in my head, coz I got two left feet. I also sing in my head. My head loves multi-tasking.

19. Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?- "Arya" or "Godhuli". Arya is right from the time I read Eragon. She fascinated my imagination and I loved the name. "Godhuli" means "bathed in the light of the setting sun". Had come across someone on Orkut with that name. Loved it at once.

20. Imagine your first child is a boy, what do you call him?- "Ashwin" or "Aryan"....anything with "A". I don't want him to go through the torture of being right at the end of the roll-call. (Although it wasn't that bad...you get loads of time to prepare before you are called in for practicals)

21. Would you ever consider living abroad? – Mera Bharat Mahaan! Nothing beats living in your own country. Ghar ka lagta hai.

22. What do you want GOD to say to you when you reach the pearly gates? – Hey man! How did I fare?

Life's a game and how much you win depends on how you play it. Relax. Think. Feel. Live.

Now, this wasn't that bad...I tag:


and everyone who reads this and isn't too lazy to take the pains :P
This weekend, I was at Cafe Mondegar's at Colaba. A friend was going away to his hometown for a few days, so we thought we should grab a few drinks over the weekend. Incidentally it was the very same day I'd purchased a new camera. So, flaunting my spanking new Canon EOS 450D, feeling extremely macho and creative, I spent the evening having a blast. After dropping him off to the bus station, everyone dispersed for the night. I was to wait for my parents at hotel Marine Plaza at Marine Drive. Beautiful hotel.

Align Left
(Click for larger image)

So here I was, sitting at the lobby, quite drunk from the drinks back at checking out the settings of my camera when this pretty female sits beside me and starts enquiring about the cam.

Girl: Hey, nice camera. Can I check it out?

Me(shamelessly staring(actually trying to focus from being tipsy)): Sure. Used one of these before?

Girl: Yeah. I'm quite into photography. I love clicking photos.
(Silence for sometime as she checks the settings, evidently quite fascinated with the cam)

Girl: Hey, is that Axe you have on?

Me(very VERY surprised): Yep. How did you know?

Girl: My boyfriend...(and the dreaded words....my hopes went crashing down the drain and I could hear a hundred violins playing the saddest song in the world, lightning struck a tower, clouds rumbled, a cat mewed...)

Here was this really pretty girl, also a little drunk, chatting to me about her boyfriend and how she loved the deodorant he uses

- which is Axe -
- which I have on me as well -
- which I wish I had applied more of at that point of time -
- which would have drowned the stink of sweat that I was positive was reeking from me -
- which I realized might have been the beer too -

But what the heck right?

Alcohol has an interesting effect on people. On me at least.

Me: Hey, I got about half an hour to kill, and the lights are great out on Marine Drive. Wanna go for a walk?

Girl: Sure. My friends will take time anyway. Two of them are busy making out :P

(Alcohol - See my point?)

So we had a nice walk along the seaside at Marine Drive, chatted about stuff like we'd known each other for years. As it started drizzling, we decided to head back to the hotel and call it a day, or night in this case.

Great night eh? Axe definitely has some effect!

In any case, beer makes you smart. It made Bud Wiser :D

Before you guys draw any conclusions, I did take her number.(yea yea, she has a boyfriend, so what?)

P.P.S. Drinking alcohol is injurious to health, and should under no circumstances be consumed by minors or if you are or about to drive. Drink responsibly, be safe.

Note to self: Purchase more cans of Axe.

Note to readers: All pictures in this post (except Marine Drive abd Budweiser) are clicked by me with my shiny new camera. Hope you like them :)

What gets you down and depressed? Is it something you want but cannot get? Is it something you try but fail to achieve? Whatever it may be, never, EVER give up.

Bad dreams happen. Not too often but they do. Every now and then, you wake up in the middle of the night, scared that the monster will eat you, or you will drop from the sky like a rock. Don't deny it. It happens. Hell, shit happens.

I've always been intrigued by things paranormal, be it spirits, hauntings, ghost houses, voices...whatever. They're perfectly normal and real in my mind. For it's true that there's stranger things in real life than in fiction. And for that very reason, I've never been scared or spooked by stuff like these. Midnight visits to cemeteries, ghost stories, even movies, I'm interested in them all, and hence, not too jumpy about them.

Last night, I was fast asleep, from an exhausting day of running to and from a friend's place. At around 2.15 am, I stirred. Something didn't feel right. But I was too drowsy to even bother to open my eyes. At that point being half asleep(y'know, the stage of lucid dreaming, the in-between place between reality and the dreamworld where you find Never-never land) I was barely aware that I was awake. Suddenly I heard two very distinct, short noises that sounded very much like "WHOOO WHOOO". I thought(or imagined) something move from the living room into my room and out the window through me...yes, through me. At the very same instant, a mild shiver-cum-shock went through my body, the kind you feel when you touch both ends of a live battery to your tongue...a mild tingling sensation. I tried to open my mouth to say "Who's there" but for a split second I felt I couldn't even open my mouth. When I finally could, I was halfway through my sentence. It freaked me out. For the first time, I felt spooked. Even scared a bit. I lay in bed, eyes shut, praying, for God knows what. There was a cold chill in the air, though it never struck me as odd then. Anyway, I never did get back to sleep that night. The feeling had jolted the sleep right out of me. Adding to it, all lights out in the house, and the dense foliage outside my first floor bedroom window illuminated only by a single tubelight lit on the ground floor made for a really really hallucinatory feel to the night.

I shifted rooms for the night.

Maybe it was nothing, just a bad dream that woke me up and I imagined it all to be real. Or maybe it was truly something paranormal that passed through my room. I don't know. All I know is that for the very first time in my life, something spooked me. I've had bad dreams before, but nothing has ever felt quite like this time. I wonder whether it really was a dream after all, and if not, what was it?
Read this one up in Shobhaa De's post and it strikes a real deep note.
Do check it out:

Notes to a terrorist...

Few days post our Independence Day celebrations, things have again started to go back to "normal". People going about their mundane humdrum lives - office, work, parties, movies...the works.

India's judiciary takes ten years to settle some cases, and even longer for more complicated cases. How is the US judiciary able to settle cases so fast? Are the cases in India so complicated that they require tens of thousands of days to settle out? No.
I really cannot comprehend what those causes may be, and even if someone listed them out to me, I'm sure they won't make much logical sense.
Kasab has had one hundred witnesses testifying against him. Video footage shows him guilty. How then is the man being kept locked up, with no verdict visible in the near future?
Weird? Barely.
Things seem bleak in my eyes when it comes to justice, at least legally. I've come to believe that it's easier to personally settle matters than to take it to the court, because frankly, does anyone have the time to run to and from the court for months at end(at the very least)?
All the talk of being law abiding and doing my own thing to help the country move ahead, at times it seems like I talk to myself. The Reliance Natural Gas fiasco that's been ensuing seems to be headed towards a legal war that'll go on for five years at least. Common sense doesn't prevail when it comes to law because in law, Truth has Various Facets. That's why, every lawyer, even the defending one, speaks the truth, as he has vowed to. It's the manipulation of facts that they're good at. Finding loopholes. Some cases seem like strokes of genius to my inferior brain.

Anyway, this wasn't a rant. Just some stuff that ran through my head when I read Shobhaa De's post. Again, do go check it out if you haven't already.

That day of the year, when every one of us remembers to stand in attention to the National Anthem, when we feel all "mushy" and "patriotic", when we hear Lata Mangeshkar, Asha Bhonsle and Rahman sing melodies in tribute to our great Nation. A day when we remember the Jawans out there at the border, fighting for their lives so that we can sit in the comforts of our home and enjoy a cup of tea while watching the Independence Day parade "LIVE from Delhi".

One day? Just ONE DAY?

Why, I ask, why just one day to remember everything that you stand for, everything that this Nation that shelters you is made of? One single day to honour the lives given, of the lives taken and the lives lived to provide for the safe journey from the bus to our home. One single day to remember those of yesterday that made our today what it is. One single day when reporters, radio jockeys, and every media person in the cities look towards the green and khaki stripes to say "Thank you for keeping us safe."

These men in uniforms regularly guard the borders of our nation. The conditions that they have to live in is shocking, but awe-inspiring, and yet, their spirit remains indomitable. When they're not risking their lives(read: times of peace) they're the most open hearted yet humble men and women on the planet. But in times of war, they're the ones who are up at the battlefront, shouting the Nation's war cry and surging ahead into the fray. They're there right from the flatlands to the most difficult battleground in the world.

Have you ever wondered what it is to be out there, at times in zero visibility, at times in sub-zero temperatures, armed with only a gun and your comrades by your side, running into the fray, knowing fully well that there are thousands of little metal spikes hurtling towards you faster than a speeding jet which can pierce your body and come out the other end before you've had time even to realize that it just did. And yet you do not stop. You keep going, praying to God not to live, but to die, and when you do, take a few enemies along for the ride.

As they say, Jai Jawan.

This video sent goosebumps down me when I saw it.

And the nation, each year, gives them One Day.

This year, on Raksha bandhan, college students in traditional attire tied rakhis on the wrists of the Indian Army soldiers on the outskirts of Amritsar. If that's not a gesture we should take notice of, I don't know what is.

When I started writing this post, I thought I'd write something about how Independence is overrated, how we take it for granted and so on and so forth. Then, I realised, it isn't about what Independence is taken to be, but what it really is. The no-longer-recent Mumbai terrorist attacks made that very clear, they kind of evoked the patriot in me. Participating in the Peace Rally(link) held out here in Mumbai was an eye opener as well(also, a little correction to an error I made in the previously linked post - link), but it also showed me, and the common man what power the masses have, what we, the people can do if we consent to one decision. The power to take that decision and execute it, now THAT'S INDEPENDENCE.

They said they would come back,
Promised that they'd return.
They walked away with their heads held high,
Not once did they turn.

Battles raged, many fell,
but they never gave in to despair,
For they knew someone back home awaited
with their name in prayer.

I'm proud to say this every day, whenever I have an opportunity,