The general trace of life:

zero-teens = you learn about the world.
early-teens = you intend to change the world when you grow up.
late-teens = you realise you can't change the world, ever.
early-twenties = you intend to direct your own life as you want it.
early-thirties = you realise you dont control your life, rather it controls you.
late-thirties = you vow to direct the life of your children.
early-fifties = you realise you can't control your children's life at all.
sixties and later = you give up all hope and continue living.

ofcourse, I am just guessing, but I feel its true :D.

facade

Occasion, just another
thoughtlessly, words spoken
skin pricked, by needles
the heart and the words.

scornfully, smile appears
wistfully, mind escapes
imagination, its personal
we shall survive it all.

cold wind, chilling effect
warmth inside, no reflect
frozen exterior, fire within
frown inside, show a grin.

overcome, the day, the night
and you shall be all right!

.. this poem will remain special to me for one reason ... for its written without sobriety :).

The one about the barber and other stories

Okay, I need to confess this. Ever since I had consciousness of this world, my hair and barbers, I tended to have longish hair compared to the average (of the guys of course). I have had long hair on many occasions in the past 3 yrs. Atleast on three of those occassions it was more than 6 months long. To the outside world, I supplied many explanations, ranging from the absurd like "it just keeps growing!" to the pretentious like "yeah, I look good with long hair". The fact is that I do not look good with long hair (inspite of the fact that it atleast makes me look older and not mistaken for a high-school going kid) and I have no inclinations for fashion or hair style. Yet, I generally have my hair long because, well .. umm .. I loathe going to a barber :-s.

Yeah, I am scared and fearful of those peaceful but sly, scissors wielding, smooth talking tormentors. When you go and sit in those comfy chairs, you submit yourself to their mercy and are practically helpless. Specifically in my case, since I have to remove my spects, am practically blind also. When their scissors whizz all over your head, cutting and chomping your dear dead black cells at will, you can only close your eyes and pray that the dark storm passes over quickly. And then, when he disdainfully takes out a brand new blade or those electric shaver thingy, you gather all your will power to stop yourself from bolting out. And then, a particularly raunchy song comes up in that miniature tv set in the room and you start fearing for your life; since the barber continues as before but with both eyes fixated, not on your head, but on the tv screen. And when the ordeal finally finishes, you are proudly glad that you have survived and ecstatic that you wont have to go through it again any time soon. And therefore, I end up having long hair :(.

Yeah, I will be going to a barber (or should I be classy and say hair-dresser?) tomorrow morning ... wish me luck :D.

And now for the other stories:

* I met a British-Asian the other day (as they are called) and he said he was originally from Pakistan. I asked where exactly and he said Kashmir. I was about to utter, "oh, you mean POK?" but just checked myself in time :D. I guess not everyone in the world calls that area POK.

* There was a talk show on TV about 'what brings happiness'. The panel included lottery winners, self-made multi-millionaires, members of salvation army, devout muslims, charity workers, money-less folk etc. It was pretty interesting. What I gathered from it and the theory I later developed will be told in another post :D (pathetic attempt at building up a suspense ;) ).

* Yeh mera diwanapan hai: this song, supposedly from the movie Namesake has been haunting me! I have been listening to it continuously for almost a month now, and I continue to do so. Perhaps it's the unique blend of involving lyrics, detached singing and unobtrusive music that makes you want to listen to it again and again and again! I had force myself to listen to other songs just to liberate my mind from its clutches. It sure is addictive; stay away from it :P.

And yeah, happy children's day everyone ... go get yourself a lollipop :P

Frozen

frozen. stolen. ephemeral paradise.

retreat. quashing gently, unnoticeable. unaffected.

treasure, yet trivialise. enclosed eternally.

fake. brush-off. shrug, sigh. wonder, incompletely.

smile with a raised eyebrow.

a random post ...

° Why? because I have some work to do and I am running out of procrastinating options ... there is no one online to chat either (and that's a rarity given the huge chat-contacts list and the large number of people I chat with) as most of them must be at their homes, gorging sweets (read as gaining weight) and running around bursting firecrackers (read as damaging the nature).

° I started writing this post when, after analysing all that I was supposed to do, I heard myself say, "aah, its so simple, I don't want to do it." And let me tell you, this 'simple' thing will hopefully solve the problem that has been dogging my algorithm since the past 3 weeks :D. Finding the problem is always harder than finding it's solution ... yeah thats my quote .. feel free to reuse it, with due acknowledgments of course :P.

° Global fusion of cultures? cutting out small pani puris from the big rolled out dough using a shot-glass. Yeah, I did this last week.

° Is the 'Fall' season named so because the leaves fall from the trees or because of the drastic fall in temperatures from a pleasant 15-20 °C to a frigid 1-5 °C ?? :D This is a rhetorical question, readers are not invited to answer it!

° There are so many movies that I ought to watch :-s, ranging from Pirates-3 to Bourne Ultimatum to Chak De India and a host of other movies in between.

Better get back to work and start doing that 'simple thing' (only to discover that it is not so simple after all).

home ...

Home. When you think of home, what is the first image that you get in your mind? For most people. it should be that of their mother doing something in the home. Generally, all of us associate our moms with our houses, they ought to be the most significant part of it.

So, when your mother comes to visit your house for a few days, you realise that you must have grown up after all. So, when you show her around the kitchen, tell her where the masalas are and where the utensils are, which bottle contains haldi and which one mirchi, you realise you have made a home for yourself. So, when you inform her, just as she gets ready to make your favourite dishes, that she should put more salt and chilli than usual because they are not strong enough in these parts of the world, you realise you are more a part of this kitchen than she is.

And then, when you see the ease with which she adapts and is seamlessly integrated in your house for those few days, you realise she is not a mom for no reason.