And so he asked the learned one ... "When does this struggle finally end". The learned one replied in the same tone "When YOU are actually PROUD of YOURSELF". He thought about it and asked again, rather hopefully "Is that possible?". The learned one just smiled.
From "The story of my Assassians"
... the world doesn't need to fixed, it only needs to be balanced.
And the art of balance demands you tread lightly, not leap about in a continual frenzy. The art of balance demands you know your designated role in the game of life, not start muscling in on everyone else's. The art of balance demands an absence of panic, a rippleless internal calm. The art of balance demands knowledge of timelessness, of birth and death and rebirth. The art of balance demands that you know the world cannot be fixed, it must be endured; it must, simply, be kept forever in splendid play.
And the art of balance demands you tread lightly, not leap about in a continual frenzy. The art of balance demands you know your designated role in the game of life, not start muscling in on everyone else's. The art of balance demands an absence of panic, a rippleless internal calm. The art of balance demands knowledge of timelessness, of birth and death and rebirth. The art of balance demands that you know the world cannot be fixed, it must be endured; it must, simply, be kept forever in splendid play.
PAANCH!!!!
can't believe i never tried to get these songs before... combine ideas from anurag kashyap and music from Vishal Bharadwaaj... and you are bound to get some whacky things... here's one of the songs from the never approved movie "Paanch".. trust me you need to hear these songs...
Nish Sampa Mare Ga
Nish Sampa Mare Ga
Nish Sampa Mare Ga
Nish Sampa Mare Ga
Nish Sampa Mare Ga
Baith Ja Yahni Tu Ja Mat
Baith Ja Yahni Tu Ja Mat
Abey Gheen Aati Hai Khuja Mat
Abey Oh Besure Tu Gaa Mat
Aye Aye Kya Karta Hai Bujha Mat
Baith Ja Yahin Tu Ja Mat
Aye Aye Eey Aye
Aye Murgi Maachis Hai Kya Maachis Nahin Hai
To Aa Aa Aa Dil Se Laga Ke Jala Le
Aye Pondy Sutta De Sutta Abey Hut Chal Hut
Dabbe Se Tota Utha Le
Abey Kyon Sulgaata Raheta Hai Hamesha
Ghud Ghud Ubalta Rehta Hai Hamesha
Chup Reh Warna Kya Kare Ga Mare Ga
Mar Haya Mar Gaya Mar Gaya Re Mar Gaya
Mar Gaya Hoon Maine Jila Mat
Abey Gheen Aati Hai Khuja Mat
Are Oh Besure Tu Ga Mat Are Kya Bujha Mat
Aye Jo Kya Sochta Hai Boy
Kuch Khaas Nahin Luke To Soch Soch Soch
Ki Gutne Kahin Akad Na Jaaye Oye Luke
Solid Lagi Hai Bhook
To Kha Kha Kha Bheja Tera Baap Ka Hai Khaale
Bol Chikni Ko Pakka Degi
Abey Saale Tu Bhi Kutta Hai
Bow Kaategaa
Kaatne De Kaatne De Kaatne De
Kaatne De Tu Dhoom Hila Mat
Abey Gheen Aati Hai Khuja Mat
Abey Oh Besure Tu Ga Mat
Aye Aye Kya Karta Hai Bhuja Mat
Baith Ja Yahin Tu Ja Mat
Aare Aye Bujha Mat
Nish Sampa Mare Ga
Nish Sampa Mare Ga
Nish Sampa Mare Ga
Nish Sampa Mare Ga
Nish Sampa Mare Ga
Baith Ja Yahni Tu Ja Mat
Baith Ja Yahni Tu Ja Mat
Abey Gheen Aati Hai Khuja Mat
Abey Oh Besure Tu Gaa Mat
Aye Aye Kya Karta Hai Bujha Mat
Baith Ja Yahin Tu Ja Mat
Aye Aye Eey Aye
Aye Murgi Maachis Hai Kya Maachis Nahin Hai
To Aa Aa Aa Dil Se Laga Ke Jala Le
Aye Pondy Sutta De Sutta Abey Hut Chal Hut
Dabbe Se Tota Utha Le
Abey Kyon Sulgaata Raheta Hai Hamesha
Ghud Ghud Ubalta Rehta Hai Hamesha
Chup Reh Warna Kya Kare Ga Mare Ga
Mar Haya Mar Gaya Mar Gaya Re Mar Gaya
Mar Gaya Hoon Maine Jila Mat
Abey Gheen Aati Hai Khuja Mat
Are Oh Besure Tu Ga Mat Are Kya Bujha Mat
Aye Jo Kya Sochta Hai Boy
Kuch Khaas Nahin Luke To Soch Soch Soch
Ki Gutne Kahin Akad Na Jaaye Oye Luke
Solid Lagi Hai Bhook
To Kha Kha Kha Bheja Tera Baap Ka Hai Khaale
Bol Chikni Ko Pakka Degi
Abey Saale Tu Bhi Kutta Hai
Bow Kaategaa
Kaatne De Kaatne De Kaatne De
Kaatne De Tu Dhoom Hila Mat
Abey Gheen Aati Hai Khuja Mat
Abey Oh Besure Tu Ga Mat
Aye Aye Kya Karta Hai Bhuja Mat
Baith Ja Yahin Tu Ja Mat
Aare Aye Bujha Mat
Good or Bad?!?!?!
Read an article on the new movie 'Tum mile'... and realized something very weird... I have been writing an exact same script ... A couple falls in love during a calamity .. in their case its 26/07 Mumbai floods... in my case its 26/11 Mumbai terror Attack. The film, in both cases, revolves on how in this danger to life they realize their love for each other. And the similarities don't stop on the date only... in my story as well as this movie both the girl and boy are ex. They have been in a relationship in the past ... and have broken up due to some reason. And now realize how silly they were.
This happened a few months ago too... although not to a very developed script but the idea was exactly the same. It was for a tv show.. where the whole plot is 'Reality show Big boss goes wrong'. There is a murder in the house... and the show must go on .. coz TRP's are sky high... so how are the participants convinced and how is the crowd fooled... and how is the culprit found.
Lo Behold a month later after we thought of this idea a Show started with the SAME story!!! WHAT THE HELL!!
Made me wonder ... Am i actually thinking of good commercial ideas... which is very good.... or is it that i am thinking of very common ideas that every other writer can think up?!?! WHICH IS BAD
This happened a few months ago too... although not to a very developed script but the idea was exactly the same. It was for a tv show.. where the whole plot is 'Reality show Big boss goes wrong'. There is a murder in the house... and the show must go on .. coz TRP's are sky high... so how are the participants convinced and how is the crowd fooled... and how is the culprit found.
Lo Behold a month later after we thought of this idea a Show started with the SAME story!!! WHAT THE HELL!!
Made me wonder ... Am i actually thinking of good commercial ideas... which is very good.... or is it that i am thinking of very common ideas that every other writer can think up?!?! WHICH IS BAD
passing thoughts
I am in fact ... after all that has been ..... JUST A CUPID WITH THE ROSE IN HIS HAND ... still....
24-23
I never enjoy my trips to Pune in a train. The time it takes to travel from Mumbai to Pune is really very annoying. Its not short enough to ignore like in local trains and Its not long enough to catch a nap or to chat with someone in the train. Even though the it’s a reserved compartment its treated as a general one, with the TC nowhere in sight.
I was dreading the trip that day even more. I had gotten seat number 24, Side UPPER, which I sure has been designed for kids. Anyways the Train from Kalyan was crowded like always. The day being a Friday never helps either. I was just wishing my seat be wind facing, so that I can just put on my ipod and doze off for some time. But Alas! It wasn’t. I HATE SEAT NUMBER 24
While travelling alone every young guy runs over a fantasy. The fantasy being that he would meet a beautiful young woman who would be sitting beside them. She would be alone too. Of course what would happen next depends on where you are reading this fantasy, but the civilized version is, they would get to talking and slowly find that they share so many common things. They would exchange numbers, both realizing that his can go somewhere.
That day as if to apologize for the discomfort of all my trips to pune, I was blessed with the golden chance- to live the fantasy (the civilized version of course). As I approached my seat. Cursing the humidity and crowd in even in reserved compartments, I was surprised to see a young lady sitting in my seat. She was wearing a green salwar suit, wheatish complexion and dark black eyes, highlighted by a thin layer of kajal. From the looks of it she would have been between 20-25. She was carrying a Nike backpack. I hesitated.
“Excuse me, but that’s my seat. Number 24”.
“Oh sorry, mine is 23. Here you go” she replied scooting over to her side.
“Thanks” was all I could mumble back. She responded with a smile.
I slipped my luggage under the seat and removed my shoes. I was suddenly very aware of the fact now, that my sock had tiny hole in it.
My mind had already started racing. What be a subtle way to start a conversation.
‘You’re going to pune?’. No, of course she is, this train goes to pune only, that would be dumb. Only someone like Aamir khan can pull off such a question and I am no Aamir Khan, and this is not DCH.
‘You work in pune?’ No that won’t be appropriate.
Just as I was running over all the permutations she got a call, and a horrifying thought hit me. So what if this lady was alone! She could easily have a boyfriend or even be married. My eyes quickly darted to her left hand. No ring on the ring finger. Then carefully observed her neck. No mangalsutra either. But still the call could be from her boyfriend. The announcement at the station was very loud, robbing me of any opportunity of eavesdropping.
About 10-15 mins had passed. The train was already out of Kalyan city. Then length of her call didn’t make me hopeful. Usually girls talk this long only to either their parents or their boyfriends. I could hear the girls I know disapproving of my action. ‘So guys only talk to girls only if she is single’, ‘That’s pathetic’, ‘How mean’, ‘BOYS!!!’. Ya well that’s all true right there.
Still this thought of disapproval , convinced me to atleast talk to her. But I was still looking an opening line.
“Could you watch my bag? I will just be back”. She asked suddenly
I nodded and said “sure” in the weirdest of voices, which I am sure she didn’t even hear.
Ok good so, she spoke to you first. That’s good, now all I had to do was continue the conversation when she came back. But what would that be. ‘Went to the loo?’. I AM SO STUPID, of course she did. Damn I was stuck again. Before I could think anymore she was back. She rearranged her bag, and her wrist watch. WRIST WATCH!!
“whats the time please?”
“7 30”
Wow! Smooth talk.
I had given up. There was no point. I simply took out the book I had bought just before coming. I was half hoping she would ask me what it was about. But remembering my taste in books I was glad she didn’t.
Just when all hope was lost I found a window. This man selling mineral water was passing by. She stopped him and asked for one bottle.
“Kitna hua?” How much?
“12”
She took out 2 ten rupee notes.
“Chutta do na madam” Give me change
She started searching her purse, but couldn’t find any.
She opened her Nike back pack, started digging in every compartment, frustrated not to find any change. It was then that I realized this opportunity.
“If you don’t, may I give it”.
She looked at me, blank for sec. My heart skipped a beat waiting for the reaction. And then she smiled again.
“Thanks”
“No problem” I said with a lot more style.
It was one those filmy moments that keep saying happen all the time. We just miss them most of the times.
Just as she handed over the money to the hawker, her phone rang again. And all my fears came rushing back. She talked for less 2 mins., visibly annoyed though. I couldn’t hear much but just before she disconnected the call I heard,
“Please dad, stop calling every 20 mins. I am fine. I can take care of myself”
WOHOOOO
It was her dad.
“Dads huh?!?! So you live in Pune?” I started not wanting to waste the opportunity.
She looked at me for a sec, not replying, calculating something. For a moment I thought she was annoyed by my statement.
“No I am going there for studying. How about you?”
We were on our way. I was living the fantasy, chatting for 2 hours straight. Her name was Apeksha. We talked about college and parents, how we have grown up, about how girls are smarter than boys (yeah, I took her side :P). All in all it was a really magical journey with the train hustling through the beautiful lonavala landscapes. I SIMPLY LOVE SEAT NUMBER 24 .
She had to get down at shivajinagar, a station just before pune junction where I had to get down. The train was almost there and there was one thing I was mustering the courage to ask. But what if she refuses. She is after all daddy’s little girl who has been taught to stay away from strangers. The train came to a halt. She got up.
“Bye”
“Bye” I replied.
She was leaving. This was my only chance. I had to ask. Common man.
“Apeksha, listen can I have your phone number?”
She again paused a sec too long.
“Sure, 9874321344”
“Thanks” I said, practically beaming.
This story would be a hit in my friends. They won’t believe at first, but then I had her number now to prove it.
I SIMPLY LOVE SEAT NUMBER 24.
I was smiling sitting alone. Took out my cell. Saved the number. I should text her to let her know my number too, I thought.
‘Hey, it was great talking to u. tc – Amit’
I hit sent still smiling.
My cell beeped. It would be the delivery verification I tht.
‘Message delivery failure’. I tried again, but it failed again.
Train came to a stop. We had reached pune station. But my smile was now fading away.
I got down on the station and tried calling her
‘Please chk the number you have dialed’
Oh shit. Did I save the wrong number? No it can’t be. It’s not possible. I darted towards the passenger list of the coach that is pasted on. Searched for seat number 23.
RAKHI SAXENA AGE: 25 SEAT NO.: 23
She was just a daddy’s little girl protecting herself. Should I be angry?!?!?!
I HATE SEAT number 24
I was dreading the trip that day even more. I had gotten seat number 24, Side UPPER, which I sure has been designed for kids. Anyways the Train from Kalyan was crowded like always. The day being a Friday never helps either. I was just wishing my seat be wind facing, so that I can just put on my ipod and doze off for some time. But Alas! It wasn’t. I HATE SEAT NUMBER 24
While travelling alone every young guy runs over a fantasy. The fantasy being that he would meet a beautiful young woman who would be sitting beside them. She would be alone too. Of course what would happen next depends on where you are reading this fantasy, but the civilized version is, they would get to talking and slowly find that they share so many common things. They would exchange numbers, both realizing that his can go somewhere.
That day as if to apologize for the discomfort of all my trips to pune, I was blessed with the golden chance- to live the fantasy (the civilized version of course). As I approached my seat. Cursing the humidity and crowd in even in reserved compartments, I was surprised to see a young lady sitting in my seat. She was wearing a green salwar suit, wheatish complexion and dark black eyes, highlighted by a thin layer of kajal. From the looks of it she would have been between 20-25. She was carrying a Nike backpack. I hesitated.
“Excuse me, but that’s my seat. Number 24”.
“Oh sorry, mine is 23. Here you go” she replied scooting over to her side.
“Thanks” was all I could mumble back. She responded with a smile.
I slipped my luggage under the seat and removed my shoes. I was suddenly very aware of the fact now, that my sock had tiny hole in it.
My mind had already started racing. What be a subtle way to start a conversation.
‘You’re going to pune?’. No, of course she is, this train goes to pune only, that would be dumb. Only someone like Aamir khan can pull off such a question and I am no Aamir Khan, and this is not DCH.
‘You work in pune?’ No that won’t be appropriate.
Just as I was running over all the permutations she got a call, and a horrifying thought hit me. So what if this lady was alone! She could easily have a boyfriend or even be married. My eyes quickly darted to her left hand. No ring on the ring finger. Then carefully observed her neck. No mangalsutra either. But still the call could be from her boyfriend. The announcement at the station was very loud, robbing me of any opportunity of eavesdropping.
About 10-15 mins had passed. The train was already out of Kalyan city. Then length of her call didn’t make me hopeful. Usually girls talk this long only to either their parents or their boyfriends. I could hear the girls I know disapproving of my action. ‘So guys only talk to girls only if she is single’, ‘That’s pathetic’, ‘How mean’, ‘BOYS!!!’. Ya well that’s all true right there.
Still this thought of disapproval , convinced me to atleast talk to her. But I was still looking an opening line.
“Could you watch my bag? I will just be back”. She asked suddenly
I nodded and said “sure” in the weirdest of voices, which I am sure she didn’t even hear.
Ok good so, she spoke to you first. That’s good, now all I had to do was continue the conversation when she came back. But what would that be. ‘Went to the loo?’. I AM SO STUPID, of course she did. Damn I was stuck again. Before I could think anymore she was back. She rearranged her bag, and her wrist watch. WRIST WATCH!!
“whats the time please?”
“7 30”
Wow! Smooth talk.
I had given up. There was no point. I simply took out the book I had bought just before coming. I was half hoping she would ask me what it was about. But remembering my taste in books I was glad she didn’t.
Just when all hope was lost I found a window. This man selling mineral water was passing by. She stopped him and asked for one bottle.
“Kitna hua?” How much?
“12”
She took out 2 ten rupee notes.
“Chutta do na madam” Give me change
She started searching her purse, but couldn’t find any.
She opened her Nike back pack, started digging in every compartment, frustrated not to find any change. It was then that I realized this opportunity.
“If you don’t, may I give it”.
She looked at me, blank for sec. My heart skipped a beat waiting for the reaction. And then she smiled again.
“Thanks”
“No problem” I said with a lot more style.
It was one those filmy moments that keep saying happen all the time. We just miss them most of the times.
Just as she handed over the money to the hawker, her phone rang again. And all my fears came rushing back. She talked for less 2 mins., visibly annoyed though. I couldn’t hear much but just before she disconnected the call I heard,
“Please dad, stop calling every 20 mins. I am fine. I can take care of myself”
WOHOOOO
It was her dad.
“Dads huh?!?! So you live in Pune?” I started not wanting to waste the opportunity.
She looked at me for a sec, not replying, calculating something. For a moment I thought she was annoyed by my statement.
“No I am going there for studying. How about you?”
We were on our way. I was living the fantasy, chatting for 2 hours straight. Her name was Apeksha. We talked about college and parents, how we have grown up, about how girls are smarter than boys (yeah, I took her side :P). All in all it was a really magical journey with the train hustling through the beautiful lonavala landscapes. I SIMPLY LOVE SEAT NUMBER 24 .
She had to get down at shivajinagar, a station just before pune junction where I had to get down. The train was almost there and there was one thing I was mustering the courage to ask. But what if she refuses. She is after all daddy’s little girl who has been taught to stay away from strangers. The train came to a halt. She got up.
“Bye”
“Bye” I replied.
She was leaving. This was my only chance. I had to ask. Common man.
“Apeksha, listen can I have your phone number?”
She again paused a sec too long.
“Sure, 9874321344”
“Thanks” I said, practically beaming.
This story would be a hit in my friends. They won’t believe at first, but then I had her number now to prove it.
I SIMPLY LOVE SEAT NUMBER 24.
I was smiling sitting alone. Took out my cell. Saved the number. I should text her to let her know my number too, I thought.
‘Hey, it was great talking to u. tc – Amit’
I hit sent still smiling.
My cell beeped. It would be the delivery verification I tht.
‘Message delivery failure’. I tried again, but it failed again.
Train came to a stop. We had reached pune station. But my smile was now fading away.
I got down on the station and tried calling her
‘Please chk the number you have dialed’
Oh shit. Did I save the wrong number? No it can’t be. It’s not possible. I darted towards the passenger list of the coach that is pasted on. Searched for seat number 23.
RAKHI SAXENA AGE: 25 SEAT NO.: 23
She was just a daddy’s little girl protecting herself. Should I be angry?!?!?!
I HATE SEAT number 24
Is it?
What if?
When would?
Does she?
Will he?
How much?
Where will?
Could I?
Would I?
Should I?
Whom to?
Today?
Tomorrow?
Right ?
Bluff?
Lie?
Trust?
.
.
.
.
Hope?
Life was great when at least some teacher knew all the answers
What if?
When would?
Does she?
Will he?
How much?
Where will?
Could I?
Would I?
Should I?
Whom to?
Today?
Tomorrow?
Right ?
Bluff?
Lie?
Trust?
.
.
.
.
Hope?
Life was great when at least some teacher knew all the answers
Necessarily we are all fond of murders, scandals, swindles, robberies, explosions, collisions, and all such things, when we know the people, and when they are neighbors and friends, but when they are strangers we do not get any great pleasure out of them, as a rule.... I would not give the assassination of one personal friend for a whole massacre of those others. And to my mind, one relative or neighbor mixed up in a scandal is more interesting than a whole Sodom and Gomorrah of outlanders gone rotten. Give me the home product every time.
GENIUS
As a kid everyone has a bit of everything in them. WE are all at some point good at music, debating, GK, dramatics, drawing, even sports. As a kid I was really gud at playing the congo, I blew away audiences with my speech, won the magi quiz contest, got selected for the lead role in the house play, and also played decent tennis.
It is after we grow up that we give up these dreams. Or rather, it is in the process of growing up, that we begin to realize, we are not as good and that the world had other geniuses too.
In about 7th grade I had joined a personality development class by the name “genius”. It was quite fun actually… word games, JAM sessions, GK sessions, mock press interviews, elocutions, extempore. It was like everything I would have liked to do in school without the stupid courses. But it was not easy getting into these classes.
“Please dad, it’s gonna help me”
“Please dad it won’t cost much”
“Please dad, I will finish my homework before going there everyday”
“Please dad, this other guy from my class goes there too… you want me to come second next time there is a quiz?”
Ah! I was in. And so it began. I was another genius, everyday discussing and interacting with other geniuses of the city, only with time I was bound to leave them behind. I was loud in the JAMS, expressive in extempore. People saw me as an inspired orator, or so I made myself believe. At home my father was amazed at my efficiency. I heard him saying to my mom that at first he tht he might be wasting his money, but this class was worth every penny he was spending.
Every year at the end, the best all round performer at the class was awarded a prize, infact a title “Genius of the year”. I was right on my way to grab that first award of my life. I nailed all the speaking events. Was even invited to give demos to other classes where students were a little week.
Now came the time of written quizzes. The word games were difficult, I always had problem with the spellings. Maths was ok, but everyone else seemed to finish before me. The real setback was GK. There were 20 questions. We had to answer them in 30 mins. Except that in my case time didn’t matter. I thought there was nothing general about the General knowledge. Whats the capital of turkey? .. I Don’t know… What was Mark twain’s third novel?... I don’t know When did the gulf war start?.. I DON’T KNOW!!!
You know that feeling when you actually know blood is rushing up to you brain, turning your face and ears red with embarrassment . Everyone around me was busy writing, scribbling, erasing and rewriting. Me, I was lost in an image where I was falling down like Alice in the wonderland. Such a pity though , IDIDN’T KNOW THE NAME OF IT’S AUTHOR.
“Time up” I heard. Everyone got up themselves and formed al line near our instructor handing over the papers. Just them I saw the sheet of the kid in front of me. Q 19 PURI. That’s all I could read. Without thinking I scribbled the answer down. I wont be out for a duck. As I handed over the paper to our instructor, I could not meet his eyes. I tried to leave as quickly as possible but … “Amit, come here please.” Everyone else had left.
“You got just one question???”.. I guess there was no respect in scoring just a single either.
“Well… is it right?”
He noded… dissapointed
“I don’t know all this stuff… I never read about it….”
I thought he would shout at me, for not completing my home assignments… for not paying attention in GK classes.
But nothing of that sort happened. He just gave me a disappointing stare and left. I wondered about it all the way back home. This was no school I was going to, where if I don’t perform I would fail. Here we all met to enjoy and learn, learning that had nothing to do with exams. We were gonna be as gud as we wanted ourselves to be. May be that disappointment was not because I failed to answer the questions, but because he saw a boy, with probably some potential, and yet throwing it away.
As we grow up, one by one we loose al such dreams. I realized I was not as gud in GK as I tht. Yes I had won Maggi quiz contest when I was in 5th… but tht was a long time ago. I was still gud at dramatics, but maybe some day that bubble will burst too.
I didn’t go to the prize distribution ceremony for the classes, even though I had won several individual awards.
“So when does it start next year…? Let me know so I would get a DD made for your fees”
“ No dad… I don’t think I wanna go next year. I would waste my time, I need to study. Its gonna be boards next year”
Oh well, kids lie.
It is after we grow up that we give up these dreams. Or rather, it is in the process of growing up, that we begin to realize, we are not as good and that the world had other geniuses too.
In about 7th grade I had joined a personality development class by the name “genius”. It was quite fun actually… word games, JAM sessions, GK sessions, mock press interviews, elocutions, extempore. It was like everything I would have liked to do in school without the stupid courses. But it was not easy getting into these classes.
“Please dad, it’s gonna help me”
“Please dad it won’t cost much”
“Please dad, I will finish my homework before going there everyday”
“Please dad, this other guy from my class goes there too… you want me to come second next time there is a quiz?”
Ah! I was in. And so it began. I was another genius, everyday discussing and interacting with other geniuses of the city, only with time I was bound to leave them behind. I was loud in the JAMS, expressive in extempore. People saw me as an inspired orator, or so I made myself believe. At home my father was amazed at my efficiency. I heard him saying to my mom that at first he tht he might be wasting his money, but this class was worth every penny he was spending.
Every year at the end, the best all round performer at the class was awarded a prize, infact a title “Genius of the year”. I was right on my way to grab that first award of my life. I nailed all the speaking events. Was even invited to give demos to other classes where students were a little week.
Now came the time of written quizzes. The word games were difficult, I always had problem with the spellings. Maths was ok, but everyone else seemed to finish before me. The real setback was GK. There were 20 questions. We had to answer them in 30 mins. Except that in my case time didn’t matter. I thought there was nothing general about the General knowledge. Whats the capital of turkey? .. I Don’t know… What was Mark twain’s third novel?... I don’t know When did the gulf war start?.. I DON’T KNOW!!!
You know that feeling when you actually know blood is rushing up to you brain, turning your face and ears red with embarrassment . Everyone around me was busy writing, scribbling, erasing and rewriting. Me, I was lost in an image where I was falling down like Alice in the wonderland. Such a pity though , IDIDN’T KNOW THE NAME OF IT’S AUTHOR.
“Time up” I heard. Everyone got up themselves and formed al line near our instructor handing over the papers. Just them I saw the sheet of the kid in front of me. Q 19 PURI. That’s all I could read. Without thinking I scribbled the answer down. I wont be out for a duck. As I handed over the paper to our instructor, I could not meet his eyes. I tried to leave as quickly as possible but … “Amit, come here please.” Everyone else had left.
“You got just one question???”.. I guess there was no respect in scoring just a single either.
“Well… is it right?”
He noded… dissapointed
“I don’t know all this stuff… I never read about it….”
I thought he would shout at me, for not completing my home assignments… for not paying attention in GK classes.
But nothing of that sort happened. He just gave me a disappointing stare and left. I wondered about it all the way back home. This was no school I was going to, where if I don’t perform I would fail. Here we all met to enjoy and learn, learning that had nothing to do with exams. We were gonna be as gud as we wanted ourselves to be. May be that disappointment was not because I failed to answer the questions, but because he saw a boy, with probably some potential, and yet throwing it away.
As we grow up, one by one we loose al such dreams. I realized I was not as gud in GK as I tht. Yes I had won Maggi quiz contest when I was in 5th… but tht was a long time ago. I was still gud at dramatics, but maybe some day that bubble will burst too.
I didn’t go to the prize distribution ceremony for the classes, even though I had won several individual awards.
“So when does it start next year…? Let me know so I would get a DD made for your fees”
“ No dad… I don’t think I wanna go next year. I would waste my time, I need to study. Its gonna be boards next year”
Oh well, kids lie.
Heard a love story.
Guy loved the girl on first sight. Sought every possible chance to be in her way. Indirectly invited her to picnic. Started a friendship with the girls sister. Carried her bag through treks. Went uninvited to her bday and pretended he didn't realize it. Still remembers the taste of the Halwa she served him. Changes all his passwords to her name. Gets chance to spend one whole day with her alone. Spends the whole day talking about her, what she likes, what she eats, which movies she likes. Becomes a vegetarian because she is one. Realizes she is impressed by intelligence. Steals exam papers from the principals office and gets 90%. But somehow the girl comes to know he cheated. They never spoke ever since.
After many years he mustered the courage to give her a mssd call. She called back. They had the shortest conversation. "You gave me a mssd call?". "Ya... Happy Bday". "Thanks".
True love stories are even more filmy.
Guy loved the girl on first sight. Sought every possible chance to be in her way. Indirectly invited her to picnic. Started a friendship with the girls sister. Carried her bag through treks. Went uninvited to her bday and pretended he didn't realize it. Still remembers the taste of the Halwa she served him. Changes all his passwords to her name. Gets chance to spend one whole day with her alone. Spends the whole day talking about her, what she likes, what she eats, which movies she likes. Becomes a vegetarian because she is one. Realizes she is impressed by intelligence. Steals exam papers from the principals office and gets 90%. But somehow the girl comes to know he cheated. They never spoke ever since.
After many years he mustered the courage to give her a mssd call. She called back. They had the shortest conversation. "You gave me a mssd call?". "Ya... Happy Bday". "Thanks".
True love stories are even more filmy.
The young all have the same dream: to save the world. Some quickly forget this dream, convinced that there are more important things to do, like having a family, earning money, travelling and learning a foreign language. Others, though, decide that it really is possible to make a difference in society and to shape the world we will hand onto future generations.
They start by choosing their profession: politicians (whose initial impulse always stems from a desire to help their local community), social activists (who believe that the root of crime lies in class differences), artists (who believe there is no hope at all and that we'll just start again from zero)... and policemen
They start by choosing their profession: politicians (whose initial impulse always stems from a desire to help their local community), social activists (who believe that the root of crime lies in class differences), artists (who believe there is no hope at all and that we'll just start again from zero)... and policemen
Do you really want peace in the world? Have you ever considered that there was never peace in the world and that therefore this goal may simply be unattainable?
And so it is
Just like you said it would be
Life goes easy on me
Most of the time
And so it is
The shorter story
No love, no glory
No hero in her sky
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes...
And so it is
Just like you said it should be
We'll both forget the breeze
Most of the time
And so it is
The colder water
The blower's daughter
The pupil in denial
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes...
Did I say that I loathe you?
Did I say that I want to
Leave it all behind?
I can't take my mind off of you
I can't take my mind off you
I can't take my mind off of you
I can't take my mind off you
I can't take my mind off you
I can't take my mind...
My mind...my mind...
'Til I find somebody new
Just like you said it would be
Life goes easy on me
Most of the time
And so it is
The shorter story
No love, no glory
No hero in her sky
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes...
And so it is
Just like you said it should be
We'll both forget the breeze
Most of the time
And so it is
The colder water
The blower's daughter
The pupil in denial
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes...
Did I say that I loathe you?
Did I say that I want to
Leave it all behind?
I can't take my mind off of you
I can't take my mind off you
I can't take my mind off of you
I can't take my mind off you
I can't take my mind off you
I can't take my mind...
My mind...my mind...
'Til I find somebody new
Sun been down for days
A pretty flower in a vase
A slipper by the fireplace
A cello lying in its case
Soon she’s down the stairs
Her morning elegance she, wears
The sound of water makes her dream
Awoken by a cloud of steam
She pours a daydream in a cup
A spoon of sugar sweetens up
And she fights for her life as she puts on her coat
And she fights for her life on the train
She looks at the rain as it pours
And she fights for her life as she goes in a store
With a thought she has caught by a thread
She pays for the bread and she goes
Nobody knows
Sun been down for days
A winter melody she plays
The thunder makes her contemplate
She hears a noise behind the gate
Perhaps a letter with a dove
Perhaps a stranger she could love
And she fights for her life as she puts on her coat
And she fights for her life on the train
She looks at the rain as it pours
And she fights for her life as she goes in a store
With a thought she has caught by a thread
She pays for the bread and she goes
Nobody knows
Nobody knows
And she fights for her life as she puts on her coat
And she fights for her life on the train
She looks at the rain as it pours
And she fights for her life as she goes in a store
Where the people are pleasantly strange
And counting the change as she goes
Nobody knows
Nobody knows
Nobody knows
A pretty flower in a vase
A slipper by the fireplace
A cello lying in its case
Soon she’s down the stairs
Her morning elegance she, wears
The sound of water makes her dream
Awoken by a cloud of steam
She pours a daydream in a cup
A spoon of sugar sweetens up
And she fights for her life as she puts on her coat
And she fights for her life on the train
She looks at the rain as it pours
And she fights for her life as she goes in a store
With a thought she has caught by a thread
She pays for the bread and she goes
Nobody knows
Sun been down for days
A winter melody she plays
The thunder makes her contemplate
She hears a noise behind the gate
Perhaps a letter with a dove
Perhaps a stranger she could love
And she fights for her life as she puts on her coat
And she fights for her life on the train
She looks at the rain as it pours
And she fights for her life as she goes in a store
With a thought she has caught by a thread
She pays for the bread and she goes
Nobody knows
Nobody knows
And she fights for her life as she puts on her coat
And she fights for her life on the train
She looks at the rain as it pours
And she fights for her life as she goes in a store
Where the people are pleasantly strange
And counting the change as she goes
Nobody knows
Nobody knows
Nobody knows