Shhh – The Secret Desires

Shhh!!

Who doesn’t have a secret desire or rather a desirous secret!

Back in kindergarten, a small boy would have had the secret desire to deceive the teacher’s eyes and run back home, escaping from the torture of repeating every line of rhymes, sung horribly by the teacher or writing A, B, C in those multicoloured four lined notebooks in a devastatingly tedious cursive handwriting. He also had the secret desire to escape from his mom’s wrath, when he playfully, carelessly loses his Geometry box in the school premises, even sometimes flicked by a notoriously naughty brat in his class.

*sigh*

Back in college days, every guy would have had a secret desire to win the pinky rose and cute heart of that-one-girl-from-city who never ceases to amuse them with her round inquisitive eyes and her sweet little lips which slips, dips and pouts at instances which guys never forget to remember. The desire to secretly encroach her heart, by helping her out with the for-loops, structures and polymorphisms in the computer laboratory periods with frequent ‘groundnuts’ charring in the conversations as if indigenously borne in each one of them, leaving others to gape in flaming awe and to many’s dismay.

*sigh*

Back in corporate training days, every single, yeah read as ‘single’ guys, who have failed to experience those sweet secrets – koo-chi-koo talks, late night SMS-ing her, weekend ‘enjoy maadi’ to Mayajaal, Satyam and Mahabalipuram, would have had a desperate desire – a secret desire rather, to get clandestinely committed to that one chick in the hall, who always completes her assignments in time and spends the remaining time in her mobile phone sandwiched intact in between her palms and ears. They even have a desire to walk casually with her to the office Food courts, Canteen, Coffee Machines, Coffee Cafe Days and to building lobbies to read newspaper and to hold their head high with pride and fall into the prejudice of incinerating their friends’ and onlookers’ stomach. Little did they know that, they are one among the many who hang out with her and not the only one hanging out with her!

*sigh*

Back in real testing times, when work piles up and tortures you with the ‘Kumbibaagam’ retribution as in “Garuda Puranam’, you have a secret desire for the client to drop a mail to you informing that he doesn’t want that particular functionality to be implemented in the module which is torturing you to hell. You even have a secret desire to show case to your manager, your extent of putting ‘extra efforts’ to fulfil the year’s goals by stretching more than one’s capability.

When the project gets implemented successfully and mails float to and fro from onsite to offshore, you have that ‘secret desire’ to find your name in the mail with a special mention for your dedication and commitment. Little did you know that few months later, some unfortunate cursed soul will be banging his head, to fix the fatal bug in the code cursing you – the code which you had worked day and night, invariably adds to your adversity.

*sigh*

Now, every blogger will have a secret desire to get 100s of comments in his blog for all the crap he writes and would refresh and check his mail every other second for the mail alert from the blog. The desire even secretly builds up to such an extent that it desires a dedicated Facebook page for your blog and 1000s of people ‘Liking’ it multiplying your fame to infinity!

Desires are easily mutable. It exists in every form and in every place. They are not controllable and acts like an unstable Uranium isotope. It is up to us to use cadmium or indium control rods of common sense well ahead, to prevent the uncontrolled fission reactions bursting later on!

So what’s your recent secret Desire?

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The Psychotic Wagon – Get Obsessed

This Meme is all about OCD – Obsessive Compulsive Disorder as it expands to. So Ms.Wiki says OCD is…,

Obsessive-compulsive disorder is an anxiety disorder in which people have unwanted and repeated thoughts, feelings, ideas, sensations (obsessions), or behaviors that make them feel driven to do something (compulsions) – (wiki)

So I gonna list out three OCD’s I’ve been freaking with here and ofcourse I’m ought to tag three of my random blog friends to Compulsorily Express their Obsessive Disorders.

1. Pace Deceleration of Books

I do not know from my near consciousness as when did I start stopping near the Book Strands and other road side book shops. Seriously, my pace decelerates and I find myself locked at the titles of the novels stacked on the shelves or on the pavements. I spend a solid 15 to 20 minutes based on the volume of book titles to be scanned. If it’s a Landmark, then it’s going to be a scanning and reading of few books for a solid 1 hour or two. I don’t know why I’m so much obsessed with just walking along the shelves and scanning the titles.

Whenever I drop to T. Nagar or Pondy Bazaar with my Mom, Dad n Sis for any of the shopping occasions, they find me missing suddenly beside them and after a glimpse on left, right and at back, they will find me near a road side book shop which has a nice collection of Novels in half rate. Ranging from John Grisham, Michael Crichton to Chetan Bhagat, all those colorful publication from Rupa and Penguin delights me much, though they have become so old and cello-taped. It irritates my mom and dad much for delaying their shopping schedule and my dad usually ends up coming up with the analogy of lamp-posts and dogs with bookshops and I :|. Who cares!

In case of hanging out with friends in Spencers, Citi Center or any mall in that case, we spend around 40% of the total time spent for haning out in Landmark. Though we actually don’t have anything to buy, we love window shopping and obsessively some solid time in the Landmark scanning through the Books, Magazines, Perfumes, Antiques and Glass ‘Pieces’, PSPs, Movie/Music DVDs and pretty girls coming there to buy those smiley balls and ID card smiley pins!

How vetti the time may be, if I get a book store and a large volume of books inside it, then I assure you I won’t complain and nag you with my boring talks for another two hours!

2. Blood Acceleration of Prettiness

Okay this is very normal with guys, but I guess, I’m bit over sensitive to pretty girls. At all the same places described above, if I happen to lock a pretty girl(s) with my sight, my heart beats faster and of course things will be in control, but still all those butterflies flaps its wings in a colorful shimmering paths orbiting around me. The scene around the pretty lady freezes and I’ll be like Shahrukh Khan in “Aankhon Mein theri ajab si ajab si adaayein hain” song from Om Shanti Om, except that nothing from my dress, gets entangled in the girls’ dupattah or chains or anything loosely hanging around her and I don’t become behosh falling down hands in chest :D

Well, I do stop sometimes to scan them for their prettiness. I get so much obsessed with their features. You see, girls don’t become pretty because they are fair or tall and has perfect contours in appropriate places. But It’s in those small small things that make them so much adorable – the way she eats those Chocolate stubs or a sandwich, the way the strands of hair fall on their shoulders, or how she carries herself in the dress she is wearing, the way she turns the pages of the book, the way she thinks about something biting the tip of the pen which she is holding and many more such notable niceties.

The worst part of this is, all those moments last for a brief period of time until she leaves the place. Then what, I too leave the place!

So this obsession of prettiness is always there! Hmmm.

3. Mind temptation of Gadgets

Well, Girls and Gadgets never cease to keep me occupied. I’m one obsessed freaking gadget maniac. Come the gadget into existence, Google suffers a lot in my hands to churn out loads and loads of pages about its details. I love reading the technical reviews about those gadgets. Starting from the hardware, operating system, their processors and its user interface, I read everything. Be it a mobile or a laptop or even a desktop, ranging from SLR, iPad, and other touchpads, touch phones, Android, HTC, Samsung, Apple, Canon, Nikon, Cloud computing, Concept phones, Bikes, Cars, blogs, and other technology buzz words, I’m freaking obsessed.

My mom keeps worrying about the girl who is gonna marry me. She says if you spend a all your time with gadgets/Internet like this, I pity the girl who is going to spend her life with you. Well to be frank I use Gmail anytime, browse Facebook and Twitter from mobile liking, commenting and tweeting during bus/train journeys, listening to mp3/Radio as well, at Home again FB, chatting, thinking what to write next in my blog, what to click with my cam and where to go. Hopefully my future girl will also join my league along with me and I’ll have more time for her and for her obsessions too! 🙂

Whenever someone talks about anything technologically new or attractive, I spend the next one hour or two reading and scanning images of it. My recent obsessions are the owned Canon SLR, not-yet-bought Samsung Galaxy S II, not-yet-released-India Nokia N9, rumoured-but-seems-to-be-gorgeous Phone 5 and err…many more.

Guess it was too much of insanity overloaded in this post!!!

Lemme stop here and I tag the following people to take the meme forward.

Hope you 3 will let me know your obsessions!!!! 😀

She – in a stranger tide!

Silhouetted on the shores of Marina, she walked along in a revealing attire. It was a sleeveless top with small, above-the-knee skirt with patches of open stitches here and there. I looked at her as she walked holding a big plastic cover full of assorted materials. Her hair, left open dangling and swaying in the air. When she walked past me, the silhouetted image just came to light revealing her face and she let out a smile in which I became a captive.

To many, it can be an awesome experience, but to me it was a pitiful sight – the sight of a 10 year old rag picking girl, who picks up random stuffs from the shores of Marina for her livelihood. Every item that she picks up, it creates a profound value in her life. The life that needs to be sustained and survived is controlled by the litters of those, who throw things, which do not make any value to their life. She doesn’t complain. She has no regrets doing that. The only concern she has is, of the food that she gets when needed and a safe shelter. Education doesn’t mean anything to her. Neither is she aware of the sanctity of education nor does she have the financial support to uplift her economic stature.

There is an array of huts and houses built just with thatches, with no bricks or cement. Every morning, as my office bus passes by the Marina Beach Road running parallel to the beach behind the light house, it gives me a dual view of the cavernous mighty Bay of Bengal on one side, whose shore is impregnated with homeless destitute souls sleeping on the sandy shores, an assortment of painted fishing boats, in whose interiors, sleeps a lazy dog, scattered papers, plastic bags and torn pieces of clothes, tents under which the child sleeps hugging the stinky fishing net and the sands sticking all over their dark and tanned skin, random people from huts walking aimlessly on the sands.

On the other side of which consists of the untidy huts and stinky slums, with children bathing in the open, under the hand pump, an array of colorful plastic pots to be filled with the ground water – the only source of clean water for them, the construction site half built and half completed, completely revealing the red bricks and cement pastes in between them, for holding the bricks intact for eternity until demolished by a bulldozer from the government for illegal construction, a hand drawn caricature of local heroes implicit of the ‘Narpani Mandrams’. Few small children clad in maroon or blue trousers and skirts with white shirt walking uninterestingly towards the government school situated in some corner of the dilapidated roads and buildings, just for the sake of free mid-day meals scheme.

‘She’ belonged to one of those – who hates schools, who hates homework, who hates being commanded by the teacher, who doesn’t care about how a Garnier Fructis or a Elle-18 can affect her, who does not even think about entering a boutique and prefers staring at the skimpy clad mannequin bearing an apparel from the brands of Arrow Women, Levis, Sanaa, Hugo Boss, Benetton or even Elliza Donatein. She only cares about next course of good food, an untiring day of work in a nearby construction site or surprisingly good items savored to her from the roads and sandy shores of Marina and lastly a peaceful sleep at night.

It gives me an extreme twinge in mind – a spasm that conducts through every nerve endings and sparks in the cranial hollow space, filled with blood and flesh. This pain recuperates for a time period until unexposed from them and sets back again when passing through them. When speculating their lives and its progress, the intellect guides me to its very own programmed fact – the way of life – way of their own life.

It’s merely a line which divides the economic condition of every Indians. A line that demarcates the financial well being of every individual, decides the very fate and destiny. Once someone falls in the range, they continue to be in that range and their very conscience never ever accepts the idea of upgrading their economic condition. Upper-class of people continues to stay there, the upper-middle class strives to cross the boundary to attain the upper-class status and a middle-class never ever attempts to cross any line. They just sustain themselves in that scale and protect themselves from falling below the line. The poor cadres as defined by the line, curse their fate and live their life in the mud ridden roads and pavements.

Everyone in this world belong to some scale of that ‘holy’ line and also gets an opportunity to watch, stare, ogle, gaze or see such a ‘stranger’ in their life – each one of them belonging to some scale of the ‘line’. Everyone desires a position but very few are destined a position.

I’m wondering how many other strangers are desired, destined and most importantly a blessed one. She is definitely a destined poor dark-skinned financially fragile little rag picking girl.

She complains only of mosquito bites at night and torn patches of stitches in her dress and we complain of number ‘Likes’ in Facebook! *sigh*

Eagerness (My 55 fiction)

I bent my head little to the left. The array of heads ahead of me, were eagerly advancing one by one.

I was waiting for my turn.

As the queue progressed, the school Correspondent distributed small packets of Sweets and wished me, an LKG-B student “Happy Independence day”.

The hoisted tricolor flag waved above!

***

P.S: What is 55 fiction?

Atlast the Bug was caught

A little long P.S:

I took this picture late at night around 1.30 am when I was watching a movie in my comp on a Friday night. That insect was irritating me crawling all around the Hero’s, Heroine’s and possibly on everyone’s face in the monitor. It was because the light was switched off (I know its a bad habit to see a monitor with all the lights switched off!) and the monitor was the only source of light in the room.

I shooed it away. but it kept crawling over the monitor. Suddenly it struck me. not sure if the movie I was watching did the effect (Tron Legacy!) I quickly went to my other room, took out my SLR, slid the battery in and came back to my comp, opened a sample C program and was there all set with my cam focused on the monitor, as how a soldier waits for the target with his sniper!

The insect didnt come! 😐

I uneasily waited for it around 10 minutes and there it was again in the corner of the screen, I was waiting for it to come near the code snippet at appropriate place so that I can have a shot at it. I even used my mouse pointer to guide it to the center of the monitor or amid the code snippet, duh!

I was waiting patiently with one hand in the Camera button and other in the Lens focus ring. After some 10 minutes, it flew around the corner and came and sat right in the center. I was all excited again, focused my cam, adjusted the zoom and there I clicked.

*cluck*

The  fly flew away with the click sound. The image was also not proper. Insect was skewed and composition was little bad. Later I realized that there was pin drop silence in the room and hence the shutter sound frightened the fly! (Not sure if the fly can hear sounds!)

*sigh*

I then devised the plan. I played the movie in the background little loud in the speakers and then again setting my camera right (ISO 1600). This time took few shots of the code to check if the shutter sound is barely audible. Yeah! it wasn’t audible.

Now again some 15 minutes of waiting, there came the fly marching up from the ‘int nmax’, I quickly zoomed and there it goes, three shots!

Aaaah! Watte satisfaction!

Atlast the Bug was caught.

P.P.S: I should show the same dedication while de’bug’ging my COBOL code in office!