Writer's Block

When you find yourself staring at the page in front of you, and keep on making typos and spelling mistakes, one comes to know, that one has Writer's Block. It is the time when all stuff that you write seem shit. Yes, I can feel the difficulty right in this post.
I know I haven't posted in a while, but now you know why. I haven't really been able to write much in these past months; mostly because of tight schedules, and secondly, because of several hindrances in my life. I had been in a crisis for some long duration of time, and indeed I am in one right now; I had decided to drop the veil of Picaro, and just be me. But you see, I realized that I was fooling myself. I am after all me, and cannot hide from myself.

I am in between two stories right now, along with several unfinished ones ready at my side for my attention. I am so deep in my block, that right now I am searching the web for stock characters, and so far it has helped a little. However, insightful characters are never created this way. Also, I needed some specific ones, not your average Joe type characters, but some really strong ones. I would suggest people read Nisio Isin's Bakemonogatari, or watch it perhaps, as it is also an anime.

So I guess I shall write later. 

I am getting into the groove, so maybe if I start reading Quantum Mech, I will get some more ideas of a scary High School Ghost Story!

After three days which passed like a gale of cool air blasting across the countryside in the summer, I have begun to feel a kind of tone-down affecting my behaviour. Yes, three days at the Cool Japan Festival was completely, and in short, awesome. I will never forget my participation, and the memories it had. Too bad I couldn't still sell any of my own ideas, but I could interact with companies like Bandai and BushiRoad, and understand a bit about the market that is India. Yes, Yes, I know. I sound kinda fake.I wished to have interacted more, but I could not. And it was far from a proper Anime Conference a la SakuraCon. Nonetheless, the Festival brought me lots of positives. For one, I saw a Maiko (her name was Korin) for the first time in my life. And, I couldn't believe how beautiful she was, and that too she was 17 years old! I got myself a Vanguard deck. I just need to find out a little bit more, and I hope i will represent India in the battling scenes soon enough. It was a bit too costly as a souvenir, but, I am glad to be a possessor of a brand new trial deck. I hope Bushi Road has got a distributor, otherwise I will try to find them a new one. But, most importantly, I made loads of new friends! But now, I need to go back to my thoughtful and pensive self. Art is done in solitude, and displayed in public!

Wake....

I don't know why exactly I start over again. There is a gaping discontinuity that I gaze over. After a very long soirée do I take up a pen again to write. Yes, the break was an enforced one. It is not daily that a Writer writes his own thoughts. Sometimes, he lets his mind wonder, and drift along with the clouds in the scary blue sky... Hmmm..' *yawn* Yes, I sleepy now, and my brain is justifying a closure on all things taking up space in the mind. I will now continue to post the daily happenings of mine, such trifles in front of the grand-canonicals of the Universe. But, I know about it, and therefore it is beneficial to me.

Lethargy

Somehow, today I don't feel moving.

My body has become sodden, and my mind is now in a quagmire. I have heavy cough, and slight fever, and my body aches to move. I have brushed today at one o'clock in the afternoon, and missed most, nay, all of my classes.

What is it that ties us to these states of unyielding languor? Is it complacency? Is it lack of motivation? Is it just plain laziness?

But I don't feel good at all. I feel like, well, shit.

I think it is lack of drive, lack of motivation of course. But I have so much to do, so much to think. Then why?

Ah!
That is then. It is just me trying to question this lethargy. The only way to defeat it, is to do.

Let's do it.

Anna Hazare and Corruption: Afew different aspects

Is Anna Hazare’s tirade against corruption justified? I think yes. He has helped ignite all the repressed ire of the middle class workers in India, and as is given his movement’s backbone lies in the strength of unity amongst these middle-class people, who are frustrated, disgusted, and plain fed-up of the prevailing system of bribery. It might, and then again might not, sound strange: in India, the system of bribery is an accepted part of any government office; it is as if you are expected to pay up to them for any job, which may just be his regular duty.

Anna Hazare says stop this! This is enough! You cannot go on giving out bribes to everyone, for this system will just go on and on, and it would act like a whirlpool of illegality and stupidity, and at last would not justify having any system at all.
I respect his views, but my brother pointed out a complex problem: why do people ask for bribes?

I do not think that all big, fat people sitting behind a desk in India are greedy, or that an epidemic of avarice has gone on spreading faster that malaria. I agree, most of the people taking bribes are slobs, who just want more comforts out of their life, and some are plain weirdoes. But a slight majority of them are small level officials, or perhaps rank lower down in hierarchy. Why? They don’t get paid enough.

A traffic constable stands on the street for about 5-hours, continuously, on roads on two separate shifts, including night, for India suffers sufficiently from a shortage of people (yeah, seriously) in the traffic police in some places. And for all this hard work, they hardly get Rs. 5000 a month. That is like $100. What if he tries to earn a few more thousand for himself, and in the process try to extract some bribes? According to my brother, he would gladly give some money to the constables, and perhaps even some to the peons, who are, if you don’t know, unskilled workers doing odd jobs in an office. And, mind you, they work harder than sloths like me. My brother says, giving some rewards, perhaps even voluntarily, is good.

But the sad reality is, even though their numbers are more, and they only take Rs. 100 or Rs, 20 from you, the amount of money they take shirks away shamefully in front of the sums that the infamous baboos take from you. Sadly, there are high ranking officials in India, including the ministers who actually take bribes whose amount stretches well into the millions of dollars.

My father is a minor government official, and though we aren’t affluent, what I am proud of is that I can walk with my head held high and proud, abreast with my father. He doesn’t take bribes, and I know that: he has been in troubles with his seniors in his office when he has reportedly and reputedly denied taking bribes from contractors, thus not favouring any of them. He tells me the actual reason behind all of this.

People want more: and this reason inadvertently asks them to indulge in anything and everything in order to earn more money. As long as this want exists, corruption will be there. We will corrupt our ways to earn more. That is but human tendency, and only people who have not surrendered to this desire, can truly be called elevated people.

In the end, everyone is now frustrated, mostly with the stinking government, and everyone, including the ones who take bribe out survival value, want this tradition to be gone. People in general have come to understand, that one way or the other, this system only benefits the powerful; the less powerful constable cannot now bear the shame or extracting that measly little more to gift his three kids some early presents. No, bribes are now frustrating.

If only, oh! If only, the people could understand that more is not the answer on the materialistic side, it is only on the spiritual side that they should ask more! If the government assures some standard living conditions for these poor constables, of whom, in Mumbai, over half live in the slums littered around this gigantic city. But, now, it is the time of the people.

People it seems have now taken the summary of Lincoln by word, and their uniting force is Anna Hazare. How true it is to the spirit of democracy, is a question that would be answered later. For now, only action is important.

The Song of Music

There is no magic yet, which is as beautiful, as mystical and as enchanted as music. For whatever reason, and I don’t know what it exactly is, humans find themselves inexorably entangled with the powers of music; it is a nature, as latent and ingrained within us as a snail is in its shell. We are drawn to strains from afar, and to us all it appears a little different, yet unexplainably wonderful. To weary travelers, the song of a bird brings joys in gloomy roads, while the gyrating tunes revels in the nightclubs of the cities, but wherever music is being played it invariably is important as a carrier of the essence and atmosphere of the place.
Whatever the case, music is as omnipotent as the variety of human beings who inhabit this earth. For wherever humanity has gone, it has carried music with it; wherever culture has proceeded, there is a particular way in music which it propagates and plays. Music is extensively varied in its tastes and flavors, but whatever it is, it is just magical when everybody joins in and flows in its endless streams. And this magic takes us to lands and countries heretofore unseen, unheard, but gradually understood in its chords, pitches and tunes.
In our hostel, we had a session of this breathtaking drug, and what shall I say of it? It was wonderful.

We huddled on a staircase, and Mr. Zeeshan Khan, with his guitar on his thigh, and with Mr. Subhro Ganguly, with his enchanting vocals, started the proceedings in which we all chimed in together. We followed the course set up by the strings and the rhythms, and tousled over with them along the length of the scales. Surprisingly, most of cannot sing well, and yet we all joined in. It was wonderful, it was magical.

It has the most tremendous powers of all on this planet earth. May we make some more, and continue the magic that we have got from our forefathers. May it always continue.

It is 2.30 in the morning, and my eyelids continue to droop precariously over my eyes, and i do not know how much longer i can stay awake. I have been away for too long a time to realise, but I have come back, and come back to thinking for good.

I am sure I didn't see the glacial ice heading towards me, but consciously or not, it froze within a bubble of air, and I got trapped in the jumble of the clog wheels of the world. I could hardly recollect anything that I saw: they were mostly fuzzy pictures; I could not make sense of any of them. After this, there was momentary silence, and a dark hollow began creeping upon my back. I felt cold for the first time, and it was numbing. Now there was no pain, there was no feeling. I was dead; at least that was what it felt like.

Suddenly, this blur of images subsided, and I had in front of me a little song, which had broken through the barriers of this frozen ice. My body, unaccustomedly, started twitching to its graceful strain. It filled my body with vigour and warmth. and to this tune I danced, how so ever i could. Suddenly, the ice shattered open, and I was to see the most beautiful spring ever unfolded before my eyes.

Yes, I have come back. I have come back with a determination!

Caribbean Splash

I went to see Pirates of the Caribbean: On stranger tides, yesterday with my friends, and must say that it wasn’t the most pleasant of the experiences, even disregarding the extreme heat I had to go through to watch the movie at noon. The chief, and the most ironic, was the reason why went for the show at noon: 3D.

If there was one bad 3D movie, then it was this one. If seeing Avatar 2D was a waste (without 3D you miss the awesome window like effect), then seeing POTC: OST was a horrid torture of 128 minutes. I might have seen half the movie without specs, so, I got a bail out of the pain. The theme was mostly dark and hence was incomprehensible with the specs on. I wear necessary spectacles without which I cannot see, and this causes more pain.

The epitome of nuisance arises from the poor photography. If Avatar showed how beautiful things could look in 3D, POTC:OST showed what pain it could be if they are not properly projected. The front projection techniques, in which the blurring of projection is more apparent nearer to the “window”, actually spoilt some very good screen space. And, to top it all, my head ached seeing the 3D.

Minus the 3D glitches, the story wasn’t so bad, though I must say it wasn’t as interesting as the other POTC movies. There wasn’t much adventure, and the story didn’t have enduring showdowns. Well, I don’t really criticize movie plots, but this one didn’t have a pivotal plot point; but thinking it from my brain would only allow my perspective in view, and not the artist’s, so I don’t see much plot problems, minus the mermaid love story, and the lack of swashbuckling sword fights.

The only thing that I went to see the movie for was, after all, Jack Sparrow! And he was brilliant! I counted five double crosses, two broken promises and one cold backstab. And finally, when I thought there would be a kiss between Angelica and Jack: the scene was awesome.

Johnny Depp and Penelope Cruz were awesome, and so was Geoffrey Rush. It was all in all entertaining, if not a little irritating movie.

I would now meditate, and concentrate on my work, for a lot needs to be written down.

deviantART

Oh yeah! Good news! I joined deviantART! Follow me there, or whoever reads me from over there, follow me here!

You can follow me at:http://picaroinfinity.deviantart.com/

Chugging Train

That is what I would consider my life to be at this moment. It is going on, and I haven't lost anything of my spirit to anyone or anything. But this is hard, this is so much of what I didn't want my life to turn into. I haven't done much except write a good deal of the last two years, and now it seems I have lost much craft of what I had a long time ago, and now I am like a wandering philosopher: no home, no place to rest, and endless toils.

I thought my life would go on smoothly, and will not be stopped by anything. That I would achieve success at whatever I did, and would conquer almost everything that I came across. Some people have it so easy, that I thought I also had it within me to do whatever I would please. But it is not so. One after another I have failed, and now though their were plenty of promises from me, I am nothing more than another failure.

Are failures important? Someone said, that important or not, they happen, and sometimes they are necessary to remind you of what you exactly are.

But the taunts you face with people! My own parents, for example, count on nothing more than my marks, and almost all their love and other stuff, has stopped, and just because i failed to get into a particular university. It seems all their love is only for my marks and nothing else. They even canceled a trip with my relatives just because the results are going to be out then, and they don't think i could do much in that.

But, if the resolve is steady, and the will is strong, their is no wall that can stop you. You must let go of everything, and hold steady on your path, no matter how many times you fail, or get trampled over, or get cut.
I will continue.

What's FIA doing?

The Formula One season started today at Melbourne’s Albert Park with the Australian Grand Prix, to yet another boring season. How can I predict that? Come on, haven’t we seen this all, last season? Sebastien Vettel takes up pole and podium for Red Bull, while Lewis Hamilton plays catch-up for McLaren – that is how, ladies and gentlemen, I predict this year is going to go by. You need not watch any race this year at all: it is all going to be boring sets of cars going around in circles; at least these circles were interesting to watch in 2004 because they were fast, these are slow.

The sights of a German singing the German national anthem race after race reminds us of the 2004 season, when Michael Schumacher blazed through all circuits with aplomb. It was boring. I am a big Schumacher fan, cause without doubt he is still one of the best drivers ever to live on the face of planet earth who provided enough controversies, entertainment and glitz in a sport where the final displacement of cars is zero after the end of the race.

2004 was interesting, in part, because of V10s and the unpredictable retirements, along with the bitter-sweet relationship between Barrichelo and Schumacher. But, and most importantly of all, it had pure racing. I am not talking of defending racing lines, but about speed. Yes, 2004 had speed. People watch formula one because of speed. 348 km\h, I think, was recorded at the Monza circuit. And, I bet, Albert Park had a similar story, about 320 km\h in comparison with the current top speed of 310 km\h.

FIA is making the sport slower, despite adding all the aerodynamic and kinetic improvements in the name of KERS and DRS. I just don't understand what will happen when Formula 1 does not remain the fastest motor-sport of the world. Loss in popularity, that’s what gonna happen. Already Formula 1 has lost much ground after the debacle of the disastrous 2005 Indianapolis Grand Prix.

After Schumacher retired, the regulations on fuel load caused some of the best seasons in recent history. One can especially recollect Kimi Raikkonen’s last gasper 1-point victory. Even 2009 brought up Force India with their high-down force configurations dominating (well, almost) Hungaroring and Monza.

The point is that the race wasn’t over till it was over. Anything and everything could have happened as the strategies, including tires and fuel load, played a crucial role in deciding the winner. Teams had tricks up there sleeves, and it was very interesting to watch them play out on the field. People would expectantly wait for the pit-stops to happen.

BUT NOW! If something is messed up on the first lap, the race is messed up! No longer can you think that a driver in 11th can jump up to podium finishes. And is it just me or is overtaking technically forbidden in Formula one?

IT seems now that as Formula one is getting less interesting over the past season, people would comfort themselves by watching the Premier League, as Chelsea still sniff some blood at the top of the table. There is dynamism, which is completely absent in Formula one. FIA needs to consider new markets and try to make Formula One a little bit more exciting, a little bit more wild, a little bit more unpredictable. And allow overtaking once more.

Otherwise, it surely is going to lose out to other more exciting series like the Le Mans. Otherwise, who wants to see boring cars go circling by through a road. We all drive, and we all see enough traffic already.

To Bomb or not to Bomb: is bombing of

Yes. If you are to consider the consensus of a mostly NATO led Security Council of the UN. A few days ago it considered that the situation in Libya was getting out of hand and Gaddhafi's forces were pushing the frontiers of the Rebel forces backwards. It seems, most people in the international community wanted to see a third “Jasmine Revolution” unfold in the deserts of Libya, but were hugely disappointed when it didn't unfold completely.
When Libya started its offensive movement that so damnably killed many militia of the Rebel forces in the Port city of Ras Lanuf, it became imperative for the international community to do something, and the move to enforce a “No-fly zone” was a welcome one for people who like peaceful protests. Being from the country of Mahatma Gandhi, I am welcome to dissent, because it brings forward viewpoints which remain largely unavailable to people who shun protests, like Gaddhafi.
One must be aware what a “No-fly zone” is: it is an area demarcated through geographical boundaries where flying, of any kind, isn't allowed. It does not, in any case means an area where you are free to bomb. If the mandate was to completely annhilate the standing aircraft machinery of the Libyan Armed Forces, then the bombings should have been restricted to this purpose only. But, the bombings have revoked the belief of the people in the world at large that these were only intended for enforcing the “no-fly zone” or a ceasefire in the brief civil war. However targets in the city have also been bombed, the justification being that these were military strongholds. Sadly, these justification were presented to the world many times before, along with one or the other invented excuses to get deliberation in countries which don't conform to the foreign policy of the NATO countries.
These excuses have been many, including the famous hoax of WMDs in Iraq, which subsequently resulted into the Iraq war, which made former President of the United States of America G.W.Bush a favourite with shoe throwers. In fact, that particular incident sparked something of a revolution in protests. Invading Iraq on the pretext of human rights abuse and possession of WMDs only triggered massive opportunity for the Al Qaeda, Lashkar-e-toiba and other condemnable terrorist groups to recruit young,dissident, frustrated and brain-washed men, and possibly even women.
The West, and from that I mean the NATO, must beware of their own immediate actions in the aftermath of a step-down of Muammar Gaddhafi, who, after all, is a moderate Muslim. If the Mediterranean Sea is empty of these scandalous groups, it is largely due to the vigilance and efficiency of the nations that border it. However, if extremist groups gather power and support in the wake of popular uprisings, it going to be hard for the world to face the next 20 years without a major conflict spreading out and engulfing it in flames. I would rather have 100 Muammar Gaddhafi’s on Earth, than a single Osama bin Laden.
Everyone clearly remembers what happened in Afghanistan, and the international community must ensure that a similar situation does not develop in Northern Africa.

Find a new Kolkata, Knight Riders!

First of all, I shouldn't be writing this. I promised not to write a lot of things during my crucial examinations time. But I had to stop this ascetic behaviour on the part of my disdain for certain things happening in the cricket world.

I have been a supporter for regularization of cricket in the world by the ICC, just in the same manner that FIFA does to football. I think the nonsense craze that grips the Indian subcontinent today is largely the cause of wise marketing in the late 1980s.

The IPL, the Indian Premier League, which started with wild hullabaloo, was actually something interesting for me. It was always enjoyable no matter who won. I watched particularly for the fun of seeing the old age players battling out with the new fast paced format.

I am a Bengali and, naturally, I saw that the Kolkata Knight Riders required some support. Let me tell something of my followings of cricket - I was a big fan of cricket in the early 2000s, not so much in the later years for I got extremely tired of seeing loads of action with nothing in it.

But today what was outrageous was the fact that the creator of the modern Indian Confidence in cricket, Sourav Ganguly, went without a bid! Come on!
He was the man who made what the generation of the current Indian players' have the confidence of winning matches abroad. He was the one who showed the way with extraordinary leadership. Forever were the Indians meek abroad, lacking the attitude that is required for winning. He groomed the team that became the Indian side!

And what has that got to do with the IPL? HE was the face of the KKR. He was the one half of Kolkata came to watch in the meager performances of the KKR team. So now that the KKR aren't interested in him, we, the Kolkatans aren't interested in the KKR anymore. Get the heck of it - there won't be anyone occupying the seats in Eden Gardens. It seems that the franchisee need to drop the tag Kolkata from it. The Kolkata seems bygone, as the want a revamped team, they might as well want to revamp themselves from it.

And Mr. Shah Rukh Khan, what do you expect? Filled seats with girls crying out your name? No. Ganguly was the reason for the sales, he's not there, forget everything. You are running at a loss.

This is the worst marketing strategy I have ever seen. Imagine Apple with the iPod, and without Steve Jobs.

Harry Potter vs. Voldemort Rap : Original Short

HAHAHHAHAHA

I was laughing all the through this.

THE CHILLING REMINDER

It is two years today since the day when 10 terrorists wreaked havoc in the south of Mumbai. Over 150 people were killed by them, and billion left in the wake of pain: the pain of being left prisoners in your own home. It elucidated the danger normal Indians live in everyday. They are not secure; they have been targeted. It fails to impress me how certain people could mastermind such a dastardly move, and make individuals go on a suicide mission to kill as many people before they themselves are killed. Die, and kill them too.

It is completely opposite to the Indian philosophy of “live and let live”; no wonder it left us in such a pain. Why would a group of people conspire cowardice over a peaceful nation? I can only pity them. The government was jerked awake by this fact, and definitely carried out required measures in full steam. They even sacked the then under-performing minister of Home Affairs, and mobilized a massive task force in order to determine who the culprit was.

Some said it were the Pakistanis, some said it was Al-Qaeda. I do not know, and not that doth matter. These terrorist are a cancer. They must be exterminated.

I don’t consider them humans, and hence terrorists have no religion. They come from no region of the earth, and they possess no feeling for their brethren.
Yes, the war on terror is necessary.
Now, when on the 4th of December I go to Mumbai, the shocking signs of Bullet marks at the Leopold Café would chill my blood again, and remind me, that the war on terror is necessary.

Interstices

The great all-rounder, Umberto Eco, author of the best-seller The Name of the Rose, was not only a wonderful novelist, but also a perspective changing professor of semiotics in the University of Bologna. His seminal work on semiotics is well known in the literary circles. And, the man made a bestseller book. How could he achieve all this?

Many people have called him a man of many skills; a master of all trades, jack of none. Yet, what he actually was is merely a great time-manager. ‘Merely’ is a wrong way to describe it, because it is ultimately what differentiates between Steve Jobs and other people. We must accept this fact – we can never become someone like Steve Jobs or Bill Gates or Warren Buffet.

We can only be us.

But what allowed Umberto to simultaneously produce to seminal work, both on the fictional and non-fictional spheres of literature. Semiotics isn’t a lightly study. It often requires people to work long at seemingly unending pile of books, and historical texts, trying to link strange signs and make some meaning out of it. So how exactly did Umberto manage it????

In an interview, he explains, that he used to work in the interstices.

It is a well-known fact that if we could magically reduce all the empty spaces within the atom, the universe could fit within the fist of our hand. Of course we don’t really have a chance to put it to the anvil because no such infinite extension charm is available with us today (except in the world of Harry Potter).

Interstices are similarly the times that seemingly seem worthless. He explains further that “consider you are visiting my house, and I am waiting for you to come up through the elevator. In between the time, I try to do something useful. Because, by the time you would have arrived through the elevator, I would have already written a newspaper article.”

This is what interstices are. We must fill the gaps. And our lives would be fulfilled.

Harry Potter and the "maut key taufey"

Would you believe how base these people could become while dubbing??? Diabolical!!!

They turned Deathly hallows into a mortified version of a bloody Hindi horror film! Maut key taufey!
Bless Dumbledore's beard, never thought i would go to watch this stupidity. They even forgot to translate "Deathly Hallows" correctly.

"Maut key taufey" means "The gifts of death"; which i think is correct, as far as the tales of Beedle the Bard is concerned. But it miserably fails when it comes to the fact that they are hallows. They are holy to death, or at least coveted possessions when it comes to the Crypto-Wizards, like X. Lovegood.

What these exactly are, there is little to debate: skilled handicrafts from the most skilled wizards of the times. The Peverell Brothers might have made that out of curiosity, or just for the lust of power, it doesn't really matter. What matter is how a confusion over the name killed a day that i had been waiting for ever since the book came out.

Yesterday was such a day. I woke up, feeling as fleet as Tinker Bell. I went with plenty of time to spare towards the multiplex, with the plot fuzzing through my head like a stream of bubbling waterfall. But just as the movie was about to begin, two asses cam to sit beside me, and that was it.

Along with "Maut key Taufey" you get a free Harry Potter hater but Emma Watson lover sitting beside you, you know the day you had been waiting for is coming to a painful abrupt close.

OUCH. That did hurt.

But the movie was nice. The way they carried the plot was absolutely wonderful. I must give credit to David Yates for reproducing such a marvelously crafted book into an awesome movie.

I will not comment on comments stating that the movie is quite slow. Are you friggin' crazy??
I wanted the film to be even slower. I wanted to savour each moment of intense emotion that the characters go through. I wanted to get lost in the world of Rowling, for once without having to imagine everything myself.....

Huh... expectations shouldn't be so high, especially when you go to Harry potter and "maut key taufey".

DEEPER Regret

I am a big fan of owl city.

In fact, I am a really big fan of Owl City. Some people say Owl city is a rip-of &c. But, I believe those people should hear his music two times over and if no vision breaks in your head, you can qualify yourself as a human without imagination.

Ah, I love Owl City so much that I could go ranting a hundred times over. But that is that. Inevitably, as a fan, I am susceptible to reading Adam Young's humorous and interesting blogs, which feature his insight into his music, his life, and his wonderful power of imagination.

This November 8th post was really very interesting. You can actually go and read it over yourself. It is humorous and slightly true.

http://owlcityblog.com/

I must say the guy is hitting the right areas in the article. For those of you who don't possess the strength of turning over pages (or rather clicking on hyperlinks) "Deep Regret" is a disorder of men loosing there guts and mind while in presence of beautiful women. Like for example if Scarlett Johansson was in front of you, the stakes of you uttering a very stupid response to her is about 198% higher than normal.

LOL. For me that accounts for 258%.

So, has it ever happened to you? Usually this disorder is seen among adolescents over the oh-so-beautiful girl in class &c. But I think it persists for a far a longer period of time.

So what is DEEPER REGRET? The Regret of never having met a girl beautiful enough to have DEEP REGRET.

Let us be frank people. We are men; and for biological, prestige and ... whatever reason, we love to have at least one beautiful woman around. Oh, there are exceptions to presence of beautiful woman: they are most unwelcome in laboratory discussions, mathematics problem solving sessions, hands-on rugby sessions, and of course for that most important game of the season.

I would be lying if i told you I never saw a person with whom i had DEEP REGRET, but then it has never been that difficult. I don't find socializing with women a tad difficult. It in fact comes to me easily. I am more comfortable with exquisite women around than being with a rowdy group of males, banging beer bottles or shouting four-letter-words with them.

Women, and I deeply respect them for that, have class. Yes sir, they have class. You may consider me a feminist, but i consider my mother in the highest manner. I consider some of my friends (who are girls) is the highest manner. I like their behavior, which I find a little more civilized than 65% of the male population of the world.

But then, such a view, coupled with constantly being hounded by girls, make my attitude towards them rather more friendly. But, yes, I miss the DEEP REGRET. I miss it so much. I wish I could find a few faces in the crowd who are like "O WOW". Feminine sensuality tends to miss me at times.

How People Honk

Honking styles can reveal a lot about the people behind the button. It is of course, a continuous earache, especially when you live beside the busiest street in the town. Living in a city of 2.8 million people, with all its honey-beeish people, one can easily recognize these particular patterns.

Every day, just as the clock strikes eight, a cacophony of horns emerges across my front window. It lasts a good amount of fourteen hours since then.

It starts with the late school boy, with his trailing horn, warning the others that his brash recklessness can them in the hospital. How much do you need me to display me irresponsibility? I’m already freakishly late, he says.

Then there comes Mister Busy. He is the guy who drives the slowest, showing his just-washed sedan to all, and honks an unbelievable tune. He would stop behind people on the traffic light, and try to blow their eardrums off. His intention: he wants to stand right in front of you crossing over the white line that says STOP.

Miss Perky travels very fast, zipping across the streets with abandon, literally. Reason: she knows only two speeds, 0 km/h and 60 km/h, nothing in between. She will blow her high-pitched horn, mimicking her own voice everywhere, wverytime. She believes that hearing it everyone will fear that a railway engine is through.

And then comes the Railway Man, always on his scooter, blowing his horn only after the crossing is crossed.

Suddenly you hear a heart thumping noise. What was that? A demon? Apocalypse? Oh no that was only the school bus honking madly because a pupil is late.

Mr. Cool has his own way. He blows his horn differently, leans like a pro on the turn, and does a wheelie every time he sees a girl. Boy, and he thinks he is cool.

Miss daydream is next. She is all about her own business, looking lost and confused. Only after someone honks does she meekly reply with a small jab at the button. I rather like her; she does not disturb me in the morning snooze. And so the sun settles down into her afternoon position.

It so passes, that whenever you are concentrating on something important, Master Rockstar come out. He bends away like a MAGLEV, almost out of touch of the road (and sometimes he does get out of touch). He always blows his horn in a particular manner, always in a tune. He is loud, boisterous, and, my, he is fast. He just whizzes away, with his horns doppling away.

Then, there is Hurry Billy. He is a sophisticate, and always in a hurry. He tries to beat Valentino Rossi and Jorge Lorenzo right in India’s dilapidated roads, every time he goes out! He always horns, much like miss perky, but always after overtaking. He does everything honking, blowing five-six peace shattering blasts while cruising in the open road, just to show that he is in a hurry.

Then, it is Miss Meticulous. She’ll always blow her horn a particular way, for a particular time. Always 2.63 seconds.

Mr. Hero. He is the person with perfectly set hair, with goggles on his forehead, wearing a handkerchief on his neck, like a scarf with a open shirt showing his vests, and a low waist jeans. He rides a chopper, and with his polished smile, he calmly attaches his air horn. As if he needs one. Such a character, with so loud a bike, can hardly be missed by anyone. But when he it comes to honking he is a villain for sure. He goes crazy, pressing the button like he is keying in a 80 character phone number.

Oh! Had Beethoven heard it, he would have been glad he was deaf. Though, I believe, he would become deaf after hearing that any way.
But the most lethal of them all is the Ninja. Quiet like an owl, he swoops down upon his prey from sharp angled turns, and blind corners, travelling as fast as starlight. He is the most dangerous, and I don’t like him a bit, even though he is not a honker.

And who’s that? He doesn’t need a horn, he has the siren. Oh, he is the local politician; bloody leech of our democracy.

So where is the simple one? The one who uses his horn just to warn others? Why, he is writing this!

Burn the Koran?! Oh my god!

What? Did I hear correctly on the news? They just said that a group of ill-minded paranoid American Folks are burning the Holy book of Koran. Why? Cause they want to give it as a tribute to those who died on the sad day of 11th September.

It was bad I agree, but this is worse. America, was never like this. America showed the world democracy, and fought for righteous ideals. This was not what was expected of american people, who openly embraced Gandhi and his ideals in Martin Luther King Jr.

http://www.facebook.com/?ref=logo#!/pages/International-Burn-A-Koran-Day/134718123226530?ref=ts

Not only does such an occurrence haunt me, but is absolutely ill-timed and absolutely politically incorrect.

We have never been brought up to like this sort of dehumanizing acts. They say they are condemning the Islamic religion. They say that Islam is not a religion of peace.
No religion is! In fact, I must go on to say that Religion has often than not stirred wars amongst Human beings.

But this is madness. People don't understand the Socio-Political unrest this action could create. And another thing, how could humans be so vile that they burn another's Holy Book. People have started to do this monstrous thing already, because some stupid Pastor (I call stupid people stupid) called on this "great drive to salvation".

I dislike this. This is not according to Gandhian Principles. How different does it make you from Osama bin Laden? He is an infidel, so to counter him, must you be the same?

We should be burning (rather not, the global warming is high this year) Osama bin Laden and reading the Koran into his face adn telling him where he has wrongly interpreted it.

Hail Islam! The religion of Peace!