Archive for September, 2007


Posted: September 30, 2007 in Random

Whats hot, crispy and over 40? (besides George Clooney ofcourse :))
Pop Tarts! Toasted, the better..mmmm..pop tarts…even if it means an hour of extra jogging to shake off those pounds.


Haal chaal

Posted: September 21, 2007 in Random

Been a fun week all along. Switzerland, Brussels (this one was official) and now back to work. Lucky my colleagues are either too tired or have taken long weekends. Just managed to look busy and open the right window as the last one said bye.

Loooove my buddies for giving me the Leadership nomination (I got all of…). Though I (and everyone else) knew that I earned it, it was a thrill nevertheless. The funny thing is that the progression had grown from 0 to 2 and now 4 at the year-end. My reactions changed from being mad to apprehensive to indifferent. Got it without chasing it. Thats the coolest thing to happen.

I can see that from bring a repository of all my deep thoughts (puke) my blogspace is turning out to be more of a journal entry. So be it.


Posted: September 20, 2007 in Random

Windows effing Vista is one of the worst pieces of sh*t ever foisted on MS Windows users. It has none of the user-friendliness of XP, takes a hell load of set-up time and has most inconvenient GUI – except if it considers that hideous login screen to be aesthetic.

Looks like engineers had a field day in product design when Microsoft decided to earn some extra bucks through this crap. And it comes with installed with the new models so customers have little choice.

There was a time I admired that Ivy school drop-out but I now will gladly kill him for before his enemies got him.

The Blue Umbrella

Posted: September 11, 2007 in Art

Movies like these give a surge of hope to the decadent trend prevelant in today’s Indian movies.

I wish there are more movies of kind made in the country. How ironic that the best movies are being made in the Children’s category (Jai Hanumaan, Halo, Makdee) when the ones made for adults are either mediocre regurtitations of old bollywood classics/hollywood movies or extremely confused bullshit on romance and love appealing to American English flaunting call-centre audiences.


Posted: September 8, 2007 in Art

Twelve Angry Men is one of my all time favorites I would recommend watching at least once. The movie made in 1957 with Henry Fonda in the lead is a compelling drama of one man convincing his fellow jurymen to stretch their limits of imagination from the surface facts, hearsay and personal prejudices, appealing to the rational and emotional facets of their personalities. One has to watch the movie to appreciate it in full, and no amount of reviews can do it enough justice.

I was very disappointed to watch its 1986 re-make, Ek Ruka Hua Faisla in Hindi, directed by none other than Hindi film industry doyen, Basu Chatterjee – not just because it lacked the grip and filmography of the original despite the line for line copy of the script, dialogs and their delivery; my gripe is that nowhere in the movie had the great director acknowledged the source of his work. Disappointing for such a highly acclaimed creative mind in the industry.

Nevertheless, I still love the Byomekesh Bakshi (an Indianised married Sherlock Holmes) TV series directed by him, which as a kid in seventh grade I never missed even for a week (more so because I had a crush on Rajit Kapoor, than it being a mystery serial..:)). How many times had I hoped my mom will hire him to find out who emptied the cookie jars when she was asleep and that smile he would give when he found out who did..****wide wide grin****

Long time..

Posted: September 5, 2007 in Random

A two week trip back home. Continuous activity with no time to breathe. Managed to make a lot more new enemies – this time at the professional front. So what else is new.

Cut down all ties – the last vestiges that reminded me of old connections and did not feel a thing! Numbness is such a bliss.

Time has once again given me an opportunity with a stupendous hike in pay-offs and without a nagging voice in my ears reminding me of how much I owe. Thank god!

Still a searcher. A seeker. Looking for that ever elusive truth that dons several disguises and slips away the moment I catch a glimpse. Guess I do not want to attain it. I just like the chase.

“What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),

And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.”

The Waste Land
T.S. Eliot (1888–1965)