Me and My Muse

My photography blog

2011-01-16T16:17:00.004+05:30

I announce the launch of my newbie photography blog:

http://frombehindtheshutter.blogspot.com/

It basically has shots now. More later...

-Arnab Pal

Silent Delicacy

2010-09-21T19:55:00.005+05:30

Just found a booming number of hits for RECEME in the past 5 days (2000+ hits).The obvious option was to google for “receme” detect my suspicion.

Here is what I found…

At least 5 top tech mags have listed/linked-to my project at code project:

http://www.dotnet-news.com/detail.aspx?ID=45918
http://www.elifemagz.com/category/application-software/programming/
http://www.dotnetonweb.com/dot-net-tutorials/c-sharp-tutorials/receme-remote-command-execution-through-email-exchange/
http://www.devasp.net/net/search/res/r354712.html
http://en.serialcoder.net/technews/RECEME+-+Remote+Command+Execution+through+eMail+Exchange.aspx

The original posted article resides here:
http://www.codeproject.com/KB/applications/receme.aspx

-A

A little journey in the world of pictures

2010-05-27T16:56:00.004+05:30

I'm Arnab Pal. I live in Bangalore, India with my wife. I was born (on March 14 1982), grew up and educated in Calcutta, India. I was there until 2001.
The first camera I touched was my Father's Yashica, when I was 15 or so. It was a film camera. An amazing experience, but I remember how in those days every shutter click was so costly and how we had to keep 10 albums in our old cupboard while still worrying about moisture and bugs to spoil the images.
My photographic experience almost came to a halt for 8 years after 2001 while I joined college in Nagpur (also in India). I did not take the Yashica. Somehow I bought a film fixed focus camera which worked for only a year.
The next camera (bought in August 2009, after a long pause), was again a low priced Kodak C140 (as I was short of money and badly needed one for my trip to Germany. With this I kind of had a hang of digital cameras and basic composition techniques. Though limited in features, it gave me some kind of content and motivation. I remember :p in a period of 4 months I had clicked more than 4000 photos. About 10-15 of them were keepable.
Came January 2010 and I got the hang of Canon's Powershot SX20. My sincire friend, Aninda Sadhukhan, bought it for me from the US (costed about 369 + 40 for accesories like bag, stand, batteries, 8GB card and reader, etc). I was in 2 minds when I bought it for me. I lingered around 1000D and 500D for quite some time. In fact I had almost bought 500D as the cost of it was similar. Then popped the question of lenses. My nearest photo guru, motivator and friend, Sayantan Debnath, told me that I would have to invest in lenses sooner or later.
I laugh at my thinking at that time. I did not know, what a lense is and how I needed it once I bought a DSLR. The lack of funds forced me to buy the SX20. And now almost 5 months with it which makes life pretty simple.
SX20, qualifies as a super-zoom 12meg camera I would say. I carry it always, though its heavy, and occasionally get paid, in moments, for my labour of carrying it. And now I am in Germany again. But I dont have enough chance to travel like last time. So the SX20 just sleeps all day in my backpack, unless once in 2/3 days while I just try a hand at some landscapes / moments.
This provokes me to talk about the SX20 (though I dont know its okay to talk about it here). SX20 is a decent camera. Atleast for low -budget-high-expectation-people like me. It has 20X optical, though I am upset with the degraded sharpness at increasing zoom. At 20x (560mm equivalent) it is terrible. So I dare not use it these days much. At 1X(28mm equivalent) its good but again the sharpness at long distances in landscapes is crappy. I had tried all hyperfocal and other tricks but it just doesn't work.
Another depressing thing about this camera is its control of manual focus. The Manual focus control is a small wheel behind the camera which is sometimes more sensitive and sometimes not. May be I am slow too to decide on a good focus while using it. The visibility is also difficult. There is a small part in the screen which widens to show the the actual focus. But I still need a lot of practice to make the focus decision. Also the fact that once the camera is switched off all manual settings is gone (no prefocus etc).

Canon has tried to make the SX20 with basic manual controls;
a) DOF setting (min 2.8 and max 8.0) you can set this by selecting the round dial on the top of the cam to 'M'/'Av' and then 2 clicks on the middle button behing the camera and then turn the small wheel round
b) Shutter speed (min 15s and max 2000/3200). Similar controls with 'M'/'Tv'
c) Manual focus (the auto focus system is really buggy unless you focus on really close subjects) For subject futher than 2-3 m the autofocus is always incorrect and immensely out of focus.
Thus, choosing manual focus is what I am forced to do mostly. I dont know if the SLR cameras has the autofocus systems better than this. The SX20 takes about 2sec to decide on the autofocus (the later the more prone to errors).
Sometimes I try to autofocus on a subject 3-5 meters away and check the distance. I get shocked to see the distance calculated is 50cm or so. Then I have to switch to manual focus -> zoom-in the subject -> and set the focus correct. To make things worse; when I zoom out again the focus re-adjusts again to something else. So I have to remember the zoomed in distance and then manually adjust the focus again (fro the 3rd time) after zoomout. I get irritated by all this. May be thats the price you have to pay for buying a PnS with some basic manual controls.

So here are the most important drawbacks I am struggling with everyday (help to overcome this; is welcome). And now I feel the SLR option would have been better :)
Dont take me wrong, I am in no intent to part with the SX20. It still serves a lot lot lot of purpose and is great for a PnS to have all this packed in a still so sleek body.
I post my pictures at http://behind-a-shutter.blogspot.com/.

This post is originally posted here:
http://digital-photography-school.com/forum/general-chit-chat/3-introduce-yourself-463.html#post992572

-A

Slight Return (40 bpm)

2009-06-21T13:39:00.001+05:30

Lonely Eyes

2009-04-04T10:22:00.001+05:30

Forget pearls
I'm not an oyster
but an empty peanut shell
carnival girls threw on the ground
remember

and remember it well

When was it last that you laughed?
and was I there when you did?
Did I sell you the soul
portrayed in my role
or the life my persona hid?

I try to be me
but sometimes my Me is really a You
and the bubble gum pop you see in my eyes
is a reflection of lights from the rides
I ride
in an attempt to be loved

but how can you love a window
who masquerades as a mirror
when the carnival hits its crescendo
and tonights expectations are clear?

When the lights go out on Center Stage
you'll see complexity
waxed simple with Age
and wonder
what wonders you missed
behind the eyes
the Lonely eyes of child

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

History of Heavy Metal

2009-03-14T10:33:00.004+05:30

There are many theories about the “origin” of this dark genre, being, Heavy Metal, but I believe this to be a fairly accurate version. During the sixties, Rock & Roll demonstrated a clear split from R&B and Swing. Though many of the aspects of Blues have been sustained in all its sons and daughters, many of the modal traits of its brother, Jazz were gone. Rock & Roll became the popular movement, catering to the teenager, and often borrowing tunes from R&B and making them its own (ie. Beatles and Rolling Stones).

Rock & Roll itself, however, suffered splits during the late sixties, with many bands re-incorporating folk ideas, and many others incorporating classical progressions and artistic near-jazz colorings. Rock & Roll continued on into the seventies as Pop Rock, with many fabulous acts such as Elton John and Billy Joel. The other versions, however, became powerful genres unto their own. The folk artists became an anti-war activist collection, providing us with CSNY, the Guess Who, Bob Dylan and Jimi Hendrix (who, himself, could be considered a member of many genres). Most importantly, the progressive movement developed into “Progressive Rock,” providing such class acts as Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, Jethro Tull, Deep Purple and Black Sabbath, and many, many more. It has even been argued that the Beatles attained a complete defection from Rock & Roll over to Progressive Rock.

Is it a wonder that all the well-known Progressive Rock bands were British? Just like the Who, the Beatles and the Rolling Stones, these groups had a sincere influence on Rock, and competed with the American groups for fans. These Progressive artists introduced new concepts of powerful operatic vocals, condensed distortion, and progressions that were previously unheard of outside of classical music. But it would be Black Sabbath (in direct contention with both Deep Purple and Led Zeppelin), with its dark themes and very heavy, bluesy sound, which would become known much later as the “father of Heavy Metal.” Pink Floyd, meanwhile, drifted into the visual realm, and after its climactic “The Wall” album, drifted on into memory, having etched a permanent mark on all of modern music.

Very early in the seventies, another wave of this Progressive movement invaded America, bringing with it the likes of Judas Priest, the Scorpions (from Germany) and Iron Maiden. Listen to an early Judas Priest or Scorpions album and you might think you’re listening to a Floyd or Sabbath set. Iron Maiden and Judas Priest each carried forward the vocal torch as set by Led Zeppelin and Deep Purple (Ian Gillan). Other groups from this invasion introduced still darker themes in their lyrics, carrying on the trend started by Black Sabbath. This was known as the New Wave of British Heavy Metal (NWOBHM) and, though short lived, would finally seal Metal as a distinct version of music from Rock & Roll.

However, many Pop acts enjoyed the distortion, visual demonstrations and heaviness of the entire Progressive movement. Though they stuck with the Rock & Roll format, they further emphasized the “solo.” Musicians of this latent seventies Pop movement gradually improved the solo standards. Hard Rock was here to stay. Groups like Van Halen, Foreigner and Bad Company were born. KISS provided elaborate shows. And AC/DC has held strongly to the Hard Rock (blues based) flag for over two decades.

During the early eighties, these two genres of Heavy Metal and Hard Rock competed extensively. Iron Maiden, Judas Priest and OZZY (having left Black Sabbath) put out incredible albums. Hard Rock (now with British members) fought back with Def Leppard, Motley Crue, and AC/DC. The Scorpions changed format, and defected from NWOBHM to Hard Rock, releasing the ever-memorable “Blackout” album (arguably fitting comfortably within both genres). It became difficult to the average listener to tell the difference between the two styles, and soon, Hard Rock radio stations would even be calling Heavy Metal a “heavier version of Hard Rock” (which was a huge mistake in my opinion!). Hard Rock groups like Ratt, Queensryche, Twisted Sister, Accept and Krokus emulated their Heavy Metal cousins, confusing the audiences even further.

During the mid-eighties, however, a low rumble was being heard within the Metal genre—one which was distinctly different in tone and attitude, and one which absolutely could not be confused as Hard Rock. Some Metal groups had experimented with a more aggressive vocal approach, had incorporated a “punkier” style of instrumental attack, a quicker form of time transition, and an increase and speed. One group in particular, being heavily influenced by NWOBHM as well as the likes of Deep Purple, had difficulty finding gigs, being considered too “rock” for Punk yet too “punk” for Hard Rock—Metallica had arrived on the West coast, and upset the status quo! Anthrax did the same back East. Thrash was born. But this still wasn’t fast enough for some, and Slayer helped launch Speed Metal.

As Hard Rock weaved its way into glam rock in the mid and late eighties (same music, though a bit toned down with the likes of Bon Jovi and Poison), Heavy Metal introduced a still darker movement in Death Metal. But in the early nineties, both genres would suffer dearly, as Seattle spawned the contra-punk movement which would shake Pop music to its very core, “Grunge.” Nothing has been the same since, and even with valiant efforts on the part of Corrosion of Conformity, Pantera, Iced Earth, Anthrax, etc., and a couple of mediocre efforts from top-billing Metallica, Metal has once again returned to the underground. It is here, within this context of underground motivation and motifs, that Black Metal would be born under a dark sign.

And now? Grunge came and went, being framed as a movement by the coming and going of Nirvana. The remaining Seattle acts either died out quick, became more artistic and strange (Pearl Jam—who hasn’t provided a decent album, in my opinion, since its debut, “Ten”), or eventually just fizzled (ie Soundgarden). The Pop scene became known as the “Alternative Rock” scene, with some fine jewels presented in re-discovery of older acts, and an especially fresh and powerful representation on the part of female vocalists (Ani DiFranco, Sarah McGlauchlin, Holly McNarland, Tori Amos, Sheryl Crow, Alanis Morisette, Joan Osborne, Beth Orton, and many more—even Madonna, the queen of eightees bubble gum pop, has presented tremendous and mature material of late, having discovered that soft-techno can be good too).

Genre-specific Metal Traits:

Metal is a sub-genre of Rock, stemming (as noted above) not from Hard Rock, as is the common misperception, but rather from the progressive rock movement of the late 60’s and early 70’s. Metal’s own sub-genres (sub-sub genres of progressive rock):

Heavy Metal (ie Judas Priest, Iron Maiden): aggressive, driving beat

Speed Metal (ie Slayer): blindingly fast

Thrash (ie Metallica, Anthrax): punk influences, very quick meter changes

Black Metal (ie Iced Earth, Lacuna Coil): combination of Heavy Metal and Thrash

Death Metal (ie Obituary, Cannibal Corpse): that indescribable vocal quality

Progressive Metal (ie Therion and Opeth): very long tunes of near-Floyd standard in composition

Some Metal bands fall into more than one of the above category, and bands who evolve often switch categories completely (ie Metallica shifting from Thrash to a standard Heavy Metal format for their self-titled 5th album—“the black album”).

Metal songs follow their progressive roots, reaching back to Classical and Jazz forms in many instances, by maintaining 4-8 minute average tunes, as opposed to their Hard Rock cousins who average 3-5. Also, Hard Rock tunes, for the most part, follows the standard for all Rock & Roll: “stanza, stanza, solo, stanza.” This is definitely not the case for Metal, which has no strict format, will provide extensive intro and outros, cut-aways in the middle of songs, etc.

Whereas Hard Rock (simply a hard form of Pop Rock) follows Rock and Roll in concerning itself the standard interests of “Sex, Drugs and Itself,” the main themes of Metal tend to delve into more complex issues and often darker recesses of human emotion, and though the following examples are not all-encompassing of the Metal genre, they are common threads throughout :

politics & governmental abuses:

“One” – Metallica (anti-war song)

“Electric Eye” – Judas Priest (anti-abuse of power song)

“Two Minutes to Midnight” – Iron Maiden

“Freedom” – Rage Against the Machine

sociology:

“Potters Field” – Anthrax (societal observation)

“Prison Sex” – Tool

“Evidence” – Faith No More

deaths of loved ones:

“Cemetery Gates” – Pantera

“10,000 Days” – Tool

effects of drugs:

“Hollow” – Pantera (effects of drug overdose)

“Master of Puppets” – Metallica (cocaine addiction)

“Snowblind” – Black Sabbath (cocaine)

“Rosetta Stoned” – Tool

metaphysics / religious studies:

“Creeping Death” – Metallica

“The Real Thing” – Faith No More

As for the next stage for our beloved genre, well, if I am correct in stating that Metal incorporates a high level of integrity in lyrical structure, progression and theme, then it might follow that we have not heard the last of Metal…our numbers are again growing…we’re just waiting for that next great Metal act to follow in the footsteps of Black Sabbath, Judas Priest, Metallica and Pantera, and show the way for Metal to come out from the underground. That’s why you’re here, taking in all this history, reviewing up-and-coming bands in your local dive bars, and listening intently for an indication of more than just “Sex, Drugs and Rock and Roll”: you are devoted fans who know that Metal offers an outlet for musical and intellectual exploration of a higher nature than mere Hard or Alternative Rock -- thanks to you, Metal, Heavy or otherwise, is here to stay.

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

I Forget sometimes

2008-11-07T10:55:00.000+05:30

I sit staring into no where
Focusing all my energy
Into concentrating on the TV
Or whatever is keeping me from thinking
Because sometimes I forget
That you're not here
Or I'm not there
That I can't lean to the side
And fall in your arms.

And sometimes I open my mouth to speak
Or criticize the stupid movie I'm watching
And it's not until the echo of my own voice
Is ringing in my ears
That I realize I'm talking to no one.

And sometimes when I hear your voice
I turn to give you a hug
But it's not your arms that I find
Only the nothingness
That reminds me
Your voice comes from the phone on my ear.

Sometimes I see your face
And it seems so close
I can almost feel the silk of your skin
Under my gentle hand
Then I see the smudge of a finger print
And find it's only a photograph in my hand.

Sometimes I cry
But you're not there to wipe away the tears
Only I don't realize it until I feel the salty trail stinging down my face.

And sometimes my sobs lull me to sleep
The next morning I wake holding you
But when I open my eyes to kiss you
And say good morning
I realize it's only a pillow in my arms
And it's damp with my tears.

Because sometimes I forget
That you're not here...
But I never forget the pain of that realization.

-A
http://arnabpal.blogpsot.com

Weekend Getaway - Coonoor

2008-10-15T21:07:00.002+05:30

Coonoor Photos

Coonoor (TamilNadu)is a city and a municipality in the Nilgiris district in the state of Tamil Nadu, India. It is known for its production of Nilgiri tea. Recently it has experienced a growing networked economy and a significant influx of tourists.

The town is the second largest in the Nilgiri hills after Ooty, the district head quarters.

Coonoor’s dominant demographic is a healthy mix of religions, languages and cultures - caused by the tourists who decide to retire here, the Indian Army’s regimental headquarters and Staff College (DSSC) in neighboring Wellington Cantonment, and the local boarding schools. Economic development of the town has at best been lopsided, with very little going towards the maintenance of the town.

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Raag Bihag in D melodic Minor

2008-10-02T19:20:00.004+05:30

backbenchersmusic.com

2008-10-02T12:20:00.011+05:30

Backbenchers (mortality at stake)
The Bangla Rock Band

My humble try to tribute an extremely talented group of musicians. The website was launched with development effort from Dyutiman Chaudhuri, comments and criticism from the Band Members without which the effort would not have bore tangible fruits, and some minor support from me.

I have taken a refuge in my guitar (for certain corrections in my "trying to create melody") and not currently performing with the band. I am keen on getting back on track pretty soon ... The site is:

http://www.backbenchersmusic.com/

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Mourning

2008-09-16T09:29:00.001+05:30

Richard Wright
(28 July 1943 – 15 September 2008)

The step he took

2008-09-12T09:37:00.000+05:30

A man stands in rain, looking to the midnight sky and the crescent moo above. As he stands and stares to the sky he feels the water run down his face and mutters a few words to himself, not aloud but not in silence.

He looks about to see if the trees in the woods in which he stands should wave and hiss in the wind of the storm. And so he stands by himself, alone with himself, to whisper himself closer to insanity...and should he wonder with whom he should speak...he is his only option.

So alone he stands in the sun, as it burns his face to hell...as closer and closer the afternoon breeze should cool his cheeks...awaiting further the season in which he is to die alone as he should always be. And as he stands and feels the heat, he thinks of what should and shouldn't be. But yet with wisdom he knows its true as he looks down toward the ground and takes a single step.

A man stands in a field after days of walking, watching the brown veins of leaves as they blow in the wind past his face. How obvious it is to see the small changes that are made as seasons change and time takes its constant travel forward. The fact that time in itself moves forward never backward, on a straight line that never deviates its course...

And nor should he...

A man walks forward, staring in himself and out ahead as the winter wind stabs his cheeks like daggers being thrown at him by a silent assailant watching and plotting his death with every step. A torture he is not willing to bear but still he walks fighting it all...why did it take all this time for him to see that the only things he wished was that step...

Was that crescent moon in the winds of spring, that burning sun in the heat of summer, those browning leaves in the cool of fall, that last dying step of himself in winter!

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

ScreenShot

2008-09-09T23:02:00.001+05:30

I coded a nifty screenshot (with mouse) tool for windows.

Our beloved OS is still lacking this feature...
Hope they take a hint from here :P

http://riddlespot.blogspot.com/2008/09/57.html

Personal Quote

2008-09-09T22:47:00.002+05:30

If I must hate; I'd hate myself

Obhishaap

2008-08-31T10:33:00.000+05:30

Sondhye holo,
Ghore fera pakhider daak
Nilche kalo aakasher rongey
Ekta duto tara futchhe
Kundoli paakiye kichu jontrona
Obhishaap hoye jege uthchhe..

Ratri joubone kalo aakash
Shorir oshanto jhimiye ridoy chokh
Ekaki chaand saathe
Nirob dorshok hoye
Du chokhe jala nir-ghum ratri
Sopno, jol hoy chokher kone..

Gobhir ratey, aadim shaap fona tole
Nirob chaand, dorshok hoye...

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Denmark sonbad

2008-08-31T09:10:00.005+05:30

Palash Ray has written this from Denmark. The first of its kind, for me, when some one moving to a different country has actually posted back a sincere report. A simple report from a simple but still extraordinary person.

Bloody Slumber and feeling good inside

2008-08-29T00:48:00.004+05:30

Now. what is it that I'm feeling, when. it's mixed with my identity, am. i burning fags like a metaphor, in. the constant never was repetition, can. i mix in beautiful metaphors on hate, is it. a coil in a bulb about to burst, and me the blackened explosion, penting up the lions in my cage of indiscretion, does it. stab me in an alleyway of brick and mortar painted with grafiti. while colored men with bandanas gain courage in groups. to shove that shank inside my stomach, i'll be. given an epitath to call them in an outhouse. where fags go to fuck, or it. could be jokes i hate, the spoons. on bottom with lisps, while i'm necessary but rejected, like a nuclear plant after the sun dissapeared, and. they're circuits but I'm the juice, switched on and off, for need, it's not emotional this connection, it's necessity of thrusting.

Now what is it that I'm feeling, the whisper in my ear of ghosts who left by themselves. on a day no one thought would shock us into caring, but not alarming enough. my own departure. or . the qualities you say I have when i reach out for not salvation but common place dining, while the food we eat is bland or if it's not we spoil the meat, cause. the similarities stop with the size of my cock, the rest is just hollow. or demands that i stop doing what i never could myself, another you to tell me what to wear, and think, and put inside me, though i have myself i lose it when i stop the isolation. and everything feels like a premonition. I've been here before in yesterday reflected in the mirror, so now i fear the light for i am in the dark, some dykes have blocked my water in my mind of an opinnion, for simplicity sake I'm not gay, for I wear straight clothes and won't be woman.

Now what is it that I'm feeling, back home we're regressing into crime think of power, to top the tops with violence and respect our own destruction, trying too little to absorb into the blob we call ourselves though I've never been one for amorphous horror movies, just reaching into cyberspace for understanding not advice, i blame no one but myself, for it is repeated to me always, you can't love anyone if you don't love yourself, then love is non-existant, all you do is shield it and i can't let it hide,

Now what is it that I'm feeling, or is it what i thought this time. or yesteryears, affirming my joy in faked smiles, just so someone will talk to me and treat me like i'm real, but closeted in so many ways. i hibernate in caves, and is it isolation again or failed attempts to connect, the extremos call me chauvinist but professors mark me well in classes of the woman question, i've stradled this line between suicide, aquiescence, and a psychosis of progress, is the feeling that i want to change but can't trust my mind to know just what it is i want to be or if it's just a memory of what i wanted when I was sane. the feeling is remorse, regret, hatred, pain, defeat, fear, terror and in the heart of a man(can I call myself that or is it just my groin) i'm not good enough for them. in the eyes of woman i'm oppresion given form. in the eyes of homos i'm the necessary cock. in the eyes of loving i'm a hatred filled machine. in the eyes of society i just won't believe. in the eyes of god i know i'll be forgiven. cuse i try to be better than what i feel and fail. yet stand up and try again. knowing i'll fall down again. again again again again.

please try to see through yourself and feel the good inside.

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com/

My Tornado is Resting

2008-08-12T19:42:00.002+05:30

He speaks his words indignantly as he defends his world;

"There isn't enough time to understand.
This isn't what it takes to be a man.
I've lost control of everything that I have so boldly become.
And everything that I see seems to disappear in front of me.

He nods his head at his realizations as he speaks his mind;

"I have seen my world blow .
They keep telling me that it's no time to let go.
My tears have taken my pride, and dignity.
I dont want to be Free."

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com/

Indifference in Solitude

2008-07-30T19:26:00.002+05:30

If we said everything that we wanted to say
And we screamed in delight as the flesh tore away
If we tore out our eyes to begin to see
If we broke the bones of our cages to be free
If our pain and frustration ran like rivers of blood
Damnable doubt washed away in that flood

And life was the same for those constantly judging
Those sad and lost, hopelessly begrudging
What if our very essence was all that remained
Entwined in that moment with no other hearts maimed

Would you still afford to look away?

-A
http://arnabpal.blogpsot.com/

Wonderful Tonight

2008-07-14T19:33:00.006+05:30

Its sometime I feel your glance,
And time stopped in a poetic silence
We speak with our sleepless eyes
Drowning in the fumes of idle caresses
I hear a gentle sigh without a kiss
While the world passed us by the night

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com/

Work in progress ...

Ek raash kaalo megh

2008-06-18T22:20:00.002+05:30

ek raash kaalo megh egiye aschhe. duur er gachhta periye samner fakaa maath-tar upor diye kromosho gotaa bikelta dheke fello. tobu bristi aschhe na. shudhu boro hoye jachhe. ekbar dekhe mone holo, bodh hoy, niche neme aschhe nijer ghono kalotto ta diye prithibike grash korbe bole.

rastar alo kota jole uthlo. megh er buukta chiire beriye aschhe ondhokaar. sajano ondhokaar aste aste rater shottey porinoto hote cholechhe. megh er kalo gorjon tobuo chechiye chechiye nijer shadhinota ghoshona korchhe. hawar neshay ure jachhe kono ochena dike.

beporoya neel, rater kachhe rong hariye shantir biday janachhe. tar ononto bhabonay shorto rekhe kichhu bhanga megh bicholon korte pare na.

odbhut isharay, obujher moto ami akaash pranter diye cheye royechhi.

-A

http://arnabpal.blogspot.com/

Rovers on Mars

2008-03-07T18:57:00.008+05:30

Somebody asked me to code the solution for a problem called "MARS ROVERS".
Somehow I could do it... and I blogged it here...
http://riddlespot.blogspot.com/2008/03/56.html

Feel free to use, publish, steal, submit it as your own solution somewhere else or do anything with it.

-A
footnote: Watson says "Process and documentation is what a software engineer has more than coolies. Code quality and other bullshit is more important than wit, logic, hacks and skills".
I say "Watson SUCKS".

The Last Bid

2008-02-14T20:09:00.001+05:30

Today they stand away,
They who carried melodies of karma
And transformed them into libidoes
Yes, they taught me to heed
Bind fences with it; around
That is done, through, for good

As cascades of wishes fade away
Into the disarray of dillema and dogmas
I take the chance that once left
To bestow enough hatred within me
Feel the sense to kill 'em all
Probably, the last bid of all.

An evening with Bharat Bhushan

2008-02-10T16:54:00.000+05:30

Imagine spending an evening with a man who is the verbal equivalent of Mr.Bean. That is essentially the one-liner of the film Bheja Fry. A film of this caliber does not showoff amazing camerawork or any other revolutionary technical aspects. The script written by director Sagar Ballary (the story is supposed to be adapted from a French film, which I have never seen nor heard of), is well crafted but tends to get a bit repetitive, leaving no surprises (or shocks) for the audience to experience.

In the film, Vinay Pathak plays Bharat Bhushan, an Income Tax Officer with a passion for Hindi films and a penchant for blurting out the wrong thing at the wrong time. The hilarious events of a single night - when Music Producer Ranjit Thadani — Rajat Kapoor finds that an encounter with Bharat Bhooshan screws his life out of shape. A cameo by Ranvir Shourey, as Bharat Bhushan’s IT colleague Asif, is brilliant.

If you are a technophile then this may not be the best film for you. Over 95% of the film is in a single location. Thankfully, neither the camera movements nor the lighting distracted attention from the incredibly funny dialogue script.

To me the two aspects in which Bheja Fry excels with flying colors are its wittily penned dialogues and its main protagonist, Bharat Bhushan.

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com/

Can't Breathe

2008-01-24T19:25:00.000+05:30

Green grass, green grass
Where have you gone;
You left me alone
With my crazy switch on

Or did I leave you
Did I? Did I?
Who the hell fired up
And bid good bye

Can't breathe in this body
This life, this mind
Through my stupid day
Leaving all unwind

The guilt of being free
Blessed; unjustly blessed
Knowing what i throw away
It better than the rest

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

9 x 3 = 3

2008-01-23T21:26:00.000+05:30

Taare Zameen Par drives home a strong message, making you empathize with the kid, compelling you to draw parallels with your life, making one realize that some of the renowned geniuses were once scoffed at, but the world had to bow down to their intellect later.

Sure, Taare Zameen Par boasts of a story that strikes a chord, but most importantly, it has been treated with such sensitivity and maturity that you’re left shell-shocked in amazement by the sheer impact it leaves at the end of this 18 reeler.

Taare Zameen Par heralds the birth of a topnotch storyteller — Aamir Khan. To choose a story that’s a far cry from the mundane stuff that’s being churned out like factory products, requires courage and conviction and to execute it with panache is a rarity.

Those who somewhere nursed a grudge that the camera follows Aamir in all his films, will chew their words once they watch Taare Zameen Par. Yes, Aamir has a key role to portray as an actor, but the camera captures the child’s emotions like never before in a Hindi film. Also, let’s also clear the myth about Taare Zameen Par being a kiddie film. It’s not! It’s about children. Note the difference!

In a nutshell, Taare Zameen Par serves as a wake up call for every parent or parent-to-be. Also, it heralds the arrival of a magnificent storyteller — Aamir Khan. At the end of the day, it’s not difficult to choose who’s better — Aamir, the actor or Aamir, the director. Taare Zameen Par is a triumph all the way from the director’s point of view.

Overall Taare Zameen Par is a film that has the rare beautiful combination of a wonderful script merged with a supremely confident screenplay. Moreover the brilliant execution and noteworthy performances enhance the film further. The film no doubt caters to a more mature audience; nonetheless the film should do well simply through sheer word of mouth and praise. At the box-office, Taare Zameen Par will definitely have its fair share of takers

Banner : Aamir Khan Productions; PVR Cinema
Release Date : December 21, 2007
Shooting Studios : Filmcity, Mehboob Studio
Producer/Director : Aamir Khan

Aamir Khan...... Ram Shankar Nikumbh
Tanay Chheda...... Rajan Damodaran
Darsheel Safary...... Ishaan Awasthi
Tisca Chopra...... Maya Awasthi / Mama
Sachet Engineer...... Yohaan Awasthi / Dada
Vipin Sharma...... Mr. Awasthi / Papa
Lalitha Lajmi
Ravi Khanwilkar...... Arts teacher
Bugs Bhargava...... English teacher
Shankar Sachdev...... Hindi teacher
M K Raina...... Principal of Boarding School
Pratima Kulkarni...... Principal of Bombay School

Singers : Shankar Mahadevan, Bugs Bhargava, Vivinenne Pocha, Raman Mahadevan, Shaan, Aamir Khan, Vishal Dadlani, Adnan Sami, Auriel Cordo, Ananya Wadkar, Shankar Sachdev, Raaj Gopal Iyer, Ravi Khanwilkar, Loy Mendonca
Lyricist : Prasoon Joshi
Music Director : Shankar Mahadevan, Ehsaan Noorani, Loy Mendonca, Shailendra Barve
Cinematography : Setu
Choreography : Shiamak Davar
Editor : Deepa Bhatia
Sound : Nakul Kamte
Costume : Priyanjali Lahiri
Publicity Designs : Sukanya Ghosh
Story / Writer : Amol Gupte

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com/

Serpents Silhouettes

2008-01-08T20:02:00.000+05:30

How they dance along
The bone of my wrist.
Twinkling with blood red eyes
Made of fire.
The sting within her kiss
Still burns in the back of my throat.

I’d like to let them go
But they have made my bulging
Vein a cliff dive and
When the edge becomes too magnetic
I cannot stop the pull.
I cannot stop myself from falling.
Twice i contemplated beneath my windows
Whether to die alone
Or live without her

And twice i could not find
The reason to die alone.

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Excuses

2007-12-06T08:36:00.000+05:30

Some other day, some other time
I would have been a hundred times more sensitive
I would have remained passionate
Spent more time with you
Called more often

Some other day, some other time
I would have fulfilled more dreams
I would have been more charming
Not hesitated to share my feelings
Spoken more poetic words

Some other day, some other time
I would have conquered your fears
I would have held you longer
Gazed into your eyes every single day
Taken you out many more times

Some other day, some other time
I would have broken your heart
I would have been imperfect
Lost the only thing that mattered
Ended up alone with my tears

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

An Ode to them

2007-12-02T20:12:00.000+05:30

I say, I see
By the way did you see
The nine witches flee
On their brooms of eternity
As the fouls kept looking
While the demons slept
Of gods who dont care
The little cucoo wept
They built the Atlantis
To hold all the ghosts
Mystic they spoke
Their skulls; in skin they poke
The devils still never woke
Prophecies; Prophecise
The good of man
Paranormals to be precise

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Always Accustomed

2007-11-22T19:53:00.000+05:30

There remains, 'neath the inactive retention
Which remained in a snug bed for years,
Some parched recollection of glimmer.
Parts of myself, I'll never relate to
Moments that'll never happen.
'twas the confinement of percertion

With minimized trust and anger
As muteness shrouds thoughts
The low and steady uneasiness sets in
While the sleep between walls of belief
While disenchanted ghosts observe consciously
While indicators of nervous fear in smiles

I gaped wide with a feeling, this day
The world woke up mad at me as usual;
I didn't even care that I was left here
Sitting on this old rocking chair
All by myself;

But that's ok with me because I am use to accepting
The silence for what it's worth;
And to me it's worth the addiction it brings
Over a lifetime of hurt that
Suffered into one too many thoughts obscured.

Rip the senses unfiltered
More advanced or immature than is appropriate
Not for lack of wanting
Debris left that is only good for different things,
Other than what they were made for

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

The Tree

2007-11-18T17:11:00.000+05:30

A calm creation of nature's mysterious imagination
Black leaves that fade to color
Greens and yellows periwinkle
Giving off the warming fluffy starlight's silent twinkle

It cant help but feel important
Feel like fire
Like the mountains
Restless in the storm
Lonely like a star
Spawned from the fluid that runs in heaven's water-fountains

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Bhalobasha

2007-10-31T21:45:00.001+05:30

Bhalobasha mane harano shobdo
Jure jure kichu kotha
Bhalobasha mane bishonyo bikele
Tomar buke matha
Bhalobasha mane shudur shopone
Tomar snigdho mukh
Bhalobasha mane tomar monei
Aamar moner shukh
Bhalobasha shei prothom rater
Tinte missed call?
Bhalobasha mane pashapashi boshe
Priya cinema hall?
Bhalobasha ki hat dhore dhore
Lake-er dhare ghora?
Bhalobasha ki ragaragi kore
Chithir bhanje mora?
Bhalobasha to harano bikel
Harano golap gondho
Bhalobasha to gobhir boro
Majhe majhe hoy ondho
Bhalobasha mane godhuli belay
Uru uru mon orano
Bhalobasha mane moner konete
Tomar monke jholano
Bhalobasha mane man obhiman
Moner majhe brishti
Bhalobasha mane,ektu kore
Notun premer srishti
Bhalobasha mane ekla dupure
Roddur mekhe neowa
Bhalobasha mane agachar majhe
Shopner hatchani deowa
Bhalobasha mane na bola kotha
Ojana dharer rin
Bhalobasha mane aro shobdo
Tobuo ontobihin!!!

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Kobita pare na

2007-09-14T22:39:00.000+05:30

Kobita pare na,
Ramdhonu rong akash majhe ankte
Kobita pare na,
Sheetol bhorey shiuli gondho chhorate
Kobita pare na

Kobita pare na
Roudro dupure borishtir sopno ferate
Kobita pare na
Sondhe belay ashar prodeep jalate
Kobita pare na

Kobita pare na
'Helar jibone aalor disha dekhate
Kobita pare na
judhher sheshe sobuj shantee bulote
Kobita pare na.

Kobita pare na
mrityuke Tar jibon phiriye dite
Kobita pare na
ondhoke Tar drishti phiriye dite
Kobita pare na.

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

You are not...

2007-09-09T13:04:00.000+05:30

You are not your skin tone.
You are not your pant size.
You are not your cell phone,
Your nose, your chest, or your eyes.

You are not your country.
You are not your lineage.
You are not your family.
You are not your heritage.

You are not your job.
You are not your salary.
You are not your weight in pounds,
or your daily calorie.

You are not your friends.
You are not your enemies.
You are not your illnesses.
You are not your remedies.

You are not your name.
You are not your reputation.
You are not your starting point.
You are not your destination.

You are not your past.
You are not your future.
You create yourself,
but not by stitch or suture.

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Downpour

2007-09-02T01:03:00.000+05:30

Forty-seven days nad nights;
The sky has been weeping
For reasons, obvious
Never have I felt so dour.
Moreso every waking hour,
The rain, it tastes so sour!
But I am soaked in everything but rain.

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Full moon

2007-09-01T13:01:00.000+05:30

As the now full moon rose from behind the now dark mountains the nymphs of the night started to emerge for their shelters slowly creeping looking for a dark place to folic and sing their night time rhymes full of pain an sorrow yet so beautifully sung. Yet these nymphs are the lesser of the night time creatures that prepare the night for the true sovereigns of the night to rule with the full moon overhead and havoc in their hearts. Their only comfort is the sweet blood of the frightened scurrying humans that rush all over the world yet show no appreciation for the world in which they live . So it is only right that their death serves a higher purpose which is to feed and entertain the true rulers of the world. For they appreciate the world and all it contains and sustains. Formed from the depths of the earth ,we were born from the darkness where we reign supreme.

For all those who hide in their houses from the coming night for those who quiver in fear, for those who try to remove their fears with this new artificial light . Be warned for it is you who we come for and not these who embrace the darkness and bask in it glory for they truly understand and appreciate the beauty the darkness contains.

For those who worship the encroaching darkness and the calming moon light you shall inherit the earth for it is yours . As it only waits for you to take it and turn it in to the true Eden. Filled with darkness within the forest with tall trees and soft grass . For the very nymphs that sing the nights praises for those who can see the beauty within the darkness will truly understand the world. For we the vampires are kind masters who only feed to maintain our never ending youth so that we may remain beautiful and pale like the moon in the many nights to come for we restore the balance in the earth riding it of all the harmful influences the humans create. As all should know not to mess with mother nature for she is a cruel parent that expects the best of her children and will wreak havoc unlike any woman scorned. The eternal destruction is near and we are ready to serve the mother’s purpose for the good of the earth. Now that he moon is high in the velvety dark sky the games shall begin for what is a hunt without a chase. For we seduce out victims with our dark eyes and our pale skin , youthful bodies and quick minds. We lead you in to the dark alleys so that we may quench the thirst, lust for blood that is never quenched no matter how much we drink. The insatiable thirst is always there…

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com/

I Would Give Anything

2007-08-19T18:54:00.000+05:30

I would give anything
Anything to return back to time.
To correct my wrongs. To temper my rights
Stand up for myself together, once more

I would give anything
To stop being an emotional pest.
To speak without interruption.
To be respected, to chasten me all over again.

I would give anything.
Just for a little slice of heaven
For silence and peace of mind.
For once to not be laughed at, for once.

I would give anything
To not be toyed with.
To know who I am and let aliens know
To not be the last man living on earth

I would give anything
Forgiving every kick and crunch
And the pats of almighty punch
Forget yore hereafter.

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

I do not dare to dream

2007-08-16T18:57:00.000+05:30

Dare to dream, I would not, I do not
For dreams are curious creations
From the shadows in mind halucinating illume
They cause one to wake still lying, mystified
Remembering how or what or why they checked
Alas, found holding own head
No I do not dare, to dream
For dreams deliver desire and then destiny
Destiny then has its own way
Which assumes like curiousity
Dreams do not listen, often a prey
Dreams do not care to make mind mad
Dreams are cruel, in nature and form
No I do not dare, to dream,
I do not
I do not
I am scared
I do not

-A

60 Years of Independence

2007-08-14T21:44:00.000+05:30

I am writing this article from a city called Bangalore. Bangalore is a city with endless shopping malls, high-rise apartment blocks and more than numerically countable people. It is also the laboratory for an experiment with software careers.

India would be 60 years old tomorrow. There remain significant discussions on whether India was born in 1947 or it was just another rebirth. But we can quite safely claim that the last earned independence has touched a ripe age of six-zero.

15th of August is a day if pride for any Indian. It somehow pushes a feeling of Initialization and patriotism in me. I don’t understand the cause or dynamics of being an Indian and neither did I choose to be, but somehow it happened to me and I, in my staunchest and strongest belief, think that that's the best that could have happened to me. It marks another year of India’s freedom and sovereignty and 60 years of being reigned by ourselves.

Through the strife of partition, financial out-crises, wars, revolutions, through a changing world India has been smelted has transformed, glorified, beautified, modernized from a shabbily-dressed youngster to developing (if not already) nation of confidence and experience. But India had to fight back so often through its steps, towards globalization and modernization, towards a new era of political, demographic and socio-economic corn fields. New reforms were churned, to ensure that liberty and equality. Now, India stands a nation of literacy, economic boom, entrepreneurs, visionaries and a blend of old and new, of traditions and urbanizations, of malls and temples.

But do I have something more; something more to listen, to understand...

Whatever Englishmen may think of India, the cultural lodestone Britain may once have lent us with their love of cricket and regard for English-style public schools, times have changed. A not so ridiculing fact would be India's series victory over England in England in a game learnt from them, on the eve of Independence Day. Today, we buy into the American Dream instead, mostly.

As I take a day in the city, I walk into The Forum Mall, away from the heat and the noise, and step into the superb air-conditioning. By all means one the grandest of the shopping emporiums on this chaotic, fume-filled zone known as Koramangala, it is already an established magnet to the cities newly wealthy middle class. There are fashion shops, department stores, jewelers, sports stores selling Nike, there is a cinema on the top level showing Bollywood and Hollywood hits. Most interesting is a fast-food restaurant that offers cleaned-up versions of Indian street food, with staff dressed in baseball caps and bowling shirts; an idealized Indian interpretation of an idealized American vision of itself.

On the top floor, Joy and a friend are sipping smoothies. Joy is 28 and works in IT. He is wearing a college-style T-shirt of brushed yellow cotton. Though his home is in another city, he lives in Bangalore. For all his Western looks and habits, Joy appears to resent the suggestion that India is becoming Americanized. Yet asked about what it represents for India, he says: "It's the culture changing. There is a change in the mindset. If people go to the US they will bring things back to India. Society cannot be stagnant".

No one should doubt that the gains made by India's economy, currently growing at around 9 per cent a year, are not genuine and that they will not have an impact that changes the world order. Already India's place in the list of world economies is shifting. Two years ago its economy joined the world's top 10 and earlier this year a report by the investment bank Goldman Sachs predicted that within a decade it will surpass that of Italy, France and the UK to become the fifth largest. The report said that if current trends continue, the Indian economy will by mid-century have overtaken that of the US as well, leaving it second only to China.

But alongside these achievements, India is facing considerable problems as it seeks to emulate the US or even eclipse its superpower status. From a purely logistical perspective, the most serious of these is a shortfall in the infrastructure required to support its vision for the future. This shortfall is apparent in many frustrating ways: in the water shortages and electrical power-cuts that befall even the biggest cities during the summer months, in the roads so clogged with traffic that it takes for ever to travel even a few miles and which become all but impassable during heavy rains.

The concern is among the scariest facts in India’s dependency today. I very consciously use the word 'dependency' to bring out a meaning of depending Independence that's throttling all the economics of the nation. Getting back to Joy; Joy's life had changed drastically over the last month for a reason which he alone cannot be blamed for. Joy was asked to cut-off which a part of his weekend and also add some more to everyday to his weekdays. And pretty understandably our jolly good Joy had to follow the commands. What he probably did realize deep down inside in his heart is the growing reasons and the growing needs of Indian economy has pronounced him to be more responsible.

But is this responsibility is just a concern for Joy (and anyone of us of the US client-serving corporate worker class)? Rupee appreciation, something which was ever wanted saw a trailer and Joy saw the consequences. Would he still want his rupee to grow or become a dollar worshiper like his employers? He is just another victim of changing policies in a "dollary" environment and he cannot do anything about it. And what might happen is the extra work may make dollar cheaper than now. What happens next in forth-coming Independence Days is the next story.

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

footnote: Indian Software companies serving US companies had some serious policy changes post rupee-appreciation. Some have increased working hours on weekdays. Some have included Saturdays into weekdays. While others reduced/removed perks and positions from employees just to keep up with the rupee-gaining-strength crisis.

In My Rain

2007-08-12T18:56:00.000+05:30

Have you stood in my rain
Showering in the cold of pain
Dripping from the darkness of night
If you have, my friend,
You have stood the deathly feelings
Cowered lonliness from within

Don't feel so empty, so ashamed,
In the two beating halves,
Your mind musing into the past.
Creeping twisted smiles around your lips,
Those hovering clouds will soon part,
New console, will mend your heart.

Visions of the harp suicides
Embracing the sweet curse in your head,
Deep and dark as they are, as they always were
Shut your eyes, take a breath,
And just put this in the back of your mind.
And learn to live another day.

And one day you will be able to say,
"Come stand with me, for you stand in my Rain."

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

When I Was Born

2007-08-05T18:52:00.000+05:30

When reality breaks through
When dawn refreshed in realisation
Brings me to my station
Of this instance of life
Alight, I just might
Ride out as my next stance
And find the first light
In this god-forsaken town
So, I was left in this heap

Don't ask me how
I just let all flowers be
No, not for me
From keeping the solace
Without and within
It is my sin
Till there is nowhere to go
Oh for that break
Such sweet release

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Orkut is banned you fool - Virus Update

2007-07-19T18:41:00.000+05:30

A sudden laugh hit me last afternoon which said, "ORKUT IS BANNED,Orkut is banned you fool`,The administrators didnt write this program guess who did?? MUHAHAHA!!" Same was the case with YouTube.

A mindless chukle told me its just another innovation from a budding pop-hungry genius, but the rice is the severe spread. How could it have come to me, pretty nasty.. anywayz ..

So heres the gig:
> 1. Go to the Task manager
> 2. click on the "Application" Tab ( if its not )
> 3. Right Click on the application that's Giving you the Messge > go
> the Process.
> 4 as you can see there is "svchost.exe" Highlighted.
> 5. Right Click and Select "End Process Tree"

I loitered a bit and found a new directory in my C: drive
Directory - C:\heap41a
Files - svchost.exe, drivelist.txt, 2.mp3, Icon.ico, offspring, reproduce.txt, std.txt, script1.txt

To make it more interesting the kid had made the folder invisible even when we choose to see all hidden files.

I choose to show the script much to the comfort of the writer ...
"You are good kid, real good, but as long as I am around, you will always be second best"
- Stanley Ipkiss

offspring:

script:

std:

drivelist:

The rest of the files are junk, just delete it to break free (or if you are like me, rar and preserve it, for later use. It installs easily :P)

Download the rar from here (just for info)

-Arnab
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com/

Nishakto Express

2007-07-02T17:29:00.000+05:30

Raat er train felchhe nishhash
Jolchhe agun, chhutchhe pagol nesha
Ondhokaare ekla alok soja goti
Bokhhyo bhito, etai tader pesha

Dure dekhay, timtim sob tara
Tara naki jolchhe nibchhe bishhyoy
Kalo dweeper upor kalo akash
Bhulte bosechhe, gotow diner prottyoy

Janlar pashe, jhikjhik shorey chitkaar
Lorchhe sathe raater hawar shobdo
Pasher baash bon theke shombhoboto
Boye aschhe, oshoriri mrito gondho

Train er naam nishakto express
Sleeper coach e nijhuum bati raat
Porer station rohoshyomoy desh
Thambe gari thambei nirghat

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Golok Dhadha

2007-06-19T17:04:00.000+05:30

golok dhadhay ki ashole,
thake aro kono dhada lukano
naki shudhu gol gol bhabnay
mon matha sob kuchh bekano

bon bon kore ghurbe shudhu
oi gol gol ghurnir rastay,
okarone hapiye bhebachaka kheye jabe
bekar ghure ghure shostay

sob kota gol er pore dekhho
eka beka ekta kore dorja
jeta diye kono mote dhuke pore
aro pechiye kome jabe jayga

chhoto hoye jabe joto golok
giye majhkhane r joto kachhe
dorjar por dorjay dhukte giye
okaron hoyrani pachhe

ei bhabe cholte cholte ek shomoy
pabe na kothao ar dhukte
beka mon soja hoye dariyeo
parbe na kichhui ar bujhte

eikhane khela hole sesh,
bujhe jabe gechho tumi jitey
oituku ek-khan ghorer bhitor
ki golok babu bole keu thake

keno tobe ki khuje ei khane ele,
chhilo na ki onno kichhu korar
naki sorol pother maya katiye diye
ichhe golok dhada khelar

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Tumi ar Brishti

2007-06-13T17:02:00.000+05:30

brishi shune ghum bhange jodi
tomar ajke din er alo
megher neshay hariye giye
ki tomar monta hoto bhalo
tumi bristi dekhe bujhbe ki
aaj keno emon holo
moner obola kotha bujhi
shunlo ki keu, bolo

tumi megher dake bhoy pao jodi
bolbe kare ki jano?
bhije ghashe lukiye thaka
jibon ki tumi cheno?
brishti te bhejar allad koro
oshukh bhule keno?
tomar kemon kemon mon ki tomay
shunay tumi shuno

tumi dakle bristi ashe jemon
sobuj deep er hashi
tumi na thakle shukiye jeto
prem kobitar rashi
tumi achho bolei aajo ami
likhte dekho boshi
megh brishti tumi o ami
chiro pasha pashi

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com/

Let It Rain

2007-06-07T16:58:00.000+05:30

As dry and barren, it was a day that day
Rain and tempest feared to solace the sun
Brown leaves left the last hush from trees
When droplets vapoured, and hopes burn
Then came a lapse 'tween, innocence showered
With arms widespread, inviting the clouds
"Let it rain" you spoke timid, in solitude
As lost winds from nowhere, to you they vowed

Cried loud thunders, they muffled listeners
Dimly lit sunset gleamed, ruined and confused
The rich make of cloudy skies showered then
Neat clear water from the heavens bemused
It poured and poured till heavier than tears
The last of the rains marked across the blues
By a bridge to the land of sweet dreams you have
By a rainbow of seven distinct bright hues

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com/

Beautiful Bloom

2007-05-30T12:09:00.000+05:30

My deep was about to deepen
When your eyes closed in blush
Were you scared, were you shy
But red, thus spoke your hush
One tremling moment
The mystery of your eyes
Obscured behind those petals
Like the ocean and the skies
The mystery remains to open
And expose the gaping rainbows
Of courage, wisdom and power
And holy kisses and vows.

Do You Remember ?

2007-05-29T16:07:00.000+05:30

You were the girl in the park that night
So scared, and beautiful, by the street light
Intrigued and allured by your radiant sight
I recall that fateful night

Do you remember staring me
As I walked from the shadows of a moonlit tree
Slowly, cautious, and deliberately
Not speaking a word, so silently

Remember how you ran from me
You tripped on a step then fell against a tree
Scratching and clawing, just to break free
Your eyes screamed out a silent plea

Remember how I held out my hand
I pulled you up, then helped you stand
Do you recall me being that man
To calm you down, and do what I can

Remember that night, and what happened last
Is it buried too deep, in your dark distant past
I do, and I’ve come back for you

-A

The Muse

2007-05-29T15:40:00.000+05:30

Can't you see it in a drowned man's vision
A little gape at the pawn shop window
Frosten truths thats served; uncalled for

The guide and the poet, ear to voice
The one who listens is the one whos dumb
The act of keeping cognitive whispers low

The riddled muteness; just wanting
Wanting to say something
Panting but still listening all that was said

And then comes the autumn wind
And blows off the colorful hiss
Piles drifted with the gusts of shapeless innocence

So the poet looks for a purpose
To rub words together and make meaningful
Thus is built a museum of distractions, his muse.

As the museum ripens in years and words
Fantasies, dreams, haunts and truths co-exists
In peace and as mumb as the poet himself.

So, there lies the place where I sleep.
In hush and in peace.

http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Reborn

2007-05-29T13:10:00.000+05:30

Somehow, sometime and in some way
I feel bereft of the elite that once rain
Words from my soul; no longer mellifluous
Starry-gazes no longer splinter grief or pain
I have justified; I have no eyes or words
This tepid meat-bone thing has lost substance
Immorality; was never bought, but still.
Frozen cold burnt lunacy implicitly remains

Specks of sunflower shimmered in the sunset
Drained of ink, of gasps, of passion
What exhaled in sighs, tinched in crimson stains
Crafted beautifully in acted artful fashion
I flutter, and rip off; I bounce-back an actor
I vent out a versifier, of torn rugged paper
I absolve myself, and through my death of elequence
Be reborn as a naive affector

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Hope

2007-05-23T11:29:00.002+05:30

Hope, they say, is a strange thing
It dwells among no meanings
And it keeps its bait
The gate, would be opening.
Someday, it would be opening.

Hope, like raindrops, drips on
Entangles like hush calm fogs
Blindfolded black from truth
A maelstrom of dreams
Waiting to unfold; or is it ?

Hope, like a train, comes
With someone tied to the tracks
And passes by
No ifs, buts, and no whys.
It sounded like a nightmare screem.

But hope, as it seems, is all there is
Be it a day or the squirells cheese
So may the cloud remain
And more and more appear
Be it false, but its still a hope.

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Coming My Way

2007-05-23T09:57:00.000+05:30

Around
A silence of the moment; a silence of the sound
Its a pack; a pack of headless hounds
No barriers, no rules to be found
What would I have to cling to; so high
As the depth of the night would swallow their sight
I hope they are not coming my way,
With no remorse,
How do I have to be under such strain, everyday.

This is not so becoming
But what comes, is fire, fire in my mind
To burn down a virtue, so true.
Its beasts, what I try to become.
Altering heart, changing life for the last
A new beginning, from the barbed wire window

But; I am who I am, what I am.

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Engulf

2007-05-22T12:42:00.000+05:30

And her eyes spell appearance
From her beautifully artless mascara.
Her smile interwine;
Spoofing, bewildering;
Grunts and pains within.

The bowl of sweet delicacy
Sits forgotten, untouched on the wooden table
As she stands far from the ocean blues;
Occasional shrillness,
Trembles her; just trembles.

Seaweeds strangles oceans ankles;
And cuts deep into the nerves.
As bloody sand smirks,
Shelling sattire at the dement
More and more.

He sits on the shore.
Salty crimson wavelets licking his dryness.
And cries at the harsh wrath of winds
Over her unconsious body.
Which pulls her to ignorace,
To selfdom, singleton and dependence

-A

http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Chithhi

2007-05-21T16:16:00.001+05:30

Koto kotha bolar baki tomake
Koto shukh koto shuchona;
Bhebe bhebe bhule jawa koto bashona
Olekha koto priyo golpo o shottyi
Bidhe thaka bhalobasha o smriti
Mukher kachhakachhi eshe
Keno poth bhenge mone fire gechhe
Shuru kora chithi keno hoyni sesh aajo
Hariye jay obadhyo kolomer prolap;
Hariye jay kotha, hariye jay chithhi.
Jodi kokhono sob pai abar khuje,
Bolbo tomake, aro onek kotha bola baki .

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Eka Adhare

2007-05-21T10:26:00.001+05:30

Eka adhare; jhor othe, ashar opare.
Charte dewal, kromosho kachhe egiye ashe.
Jhapsha hoye ashe, kome ashe aalo.
Rong gulo abchha, sob sada kalo.
Shob rup, shob bostu, chhaya hoye jay.

Chokh cheye, nirobe, ei nirjon sopno majhe
Ochena ochetonar brishti; mon bheshe jay.
Nishsasher artonaad, ekanter jatonay.
Eitukui shudhu onabbyo opekkhyar ashroy.
Obohelay khuje newa shukno shantona.

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

The Mirror

2007-05-17T12:42:00.001+05:30

Listening to the silence
Benighted, in form and sight
Morose solitary thoughts trembling me inside
To shivering cold meat and marrow
I cry out; terrified;
I look at the mirror.
I must be insane
But still I hear them all in the same.
What mimiced by the manifestation
Seem like lies; or are they words?
Words I haven't spoken yet?
Words I would speak after a thousand years?
In confusion I thrust the reflection to shatter
But who else, but the twin sensed.
It did not matter! It did not matter!

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Spiderman grows fat in V3

2007-05-15T10:39:00.000+05:30

THE PLOT
Basically Spiderman 3 (or Spider-Man if you're by the book) is a story about Peter Parker's and Mary Jane's relationship. Mary thinks Peter becomes obsessed with all the attention and popularity he gains as Spiderman, which overshadows herself and her carrier.

Then we got the villains. Harry Osborn as the New Goblin, seeking to revenge his father from the previous Spiderman. Sandman, who tries to get money for his sick daughter and gets annoyed when Spiderman intervenes during his robberies. Lastly, but most importantly, we got Venom. Venom is a weird creature, with abilities similar to Spiderman, hungry for evilness (making a black suit spiderman out of the real spiderman).

Imagine all that happening at once in a groovy mix and you get Spiderman 3.

CRITIQUE
Believe it or not, I'm incredibly disappointed. In matter of fact, I wish this didn't exist. It wasn't worse than most comic movies out there, but you expect more from a franchise that has done great so far.

It says action and adventure under "genre", but this was drama and comedy, with only some cool action-sequences. After all, who am I to dislike the effects this film provides?

Spiderman grows fat for sure; if not in looks, then in mind...

Who doth fight; Why doth fight

2007-05-11T09:01:00.000+05:30

Hush blooms in the grey haze;
The hands of a mind portrays.
A dingy gloom prevails in him.
A gaudy hymn for an unfinished work.
Burning closet of foolish dreams-
To loose fragments in scatters.

The clock which time unwinds
From revolving to a straight line
Ticking senses to sum up
Sentences yet to begin

Where remains the clue;
The clue in the spinning maze.
And who doth guide the light beams?
An uphill battle for sinlessness.

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Maiden Spirit

2007-05-09T11:22:00.000+05:30

There she was;
She stood under the wintered tamarind tree;
Blinding white glare; Standing ever so still.
Her hair danced with the cool April breeze.
I dared not to disturb her innocence.
Hush, said the wind. So I waited and watched.

But she knew, I was there
A million knives pierced me; I was cold.
I was petrified; I stood numb,
Is this a dream? But I am daring in my dreams!
So I waited, I just waited.

I waited for the punishment I deserved,
And she whispered what she said.
"Do you know what I stand for?
Do you know why I'm here?"
I blinked and dazzled in astonishment.

"Your bittersweet longing is the same as my own"
"Longing for what?" I found my voice.
She smiled as she made my heart beat frantic
She sighed and looked towards the sky as she said,
"The Moon".

-A

http://arnabpal.blogspot.com/

Ekdin

2007-05-06T19:29:00.000+05:30

ekdin hashi hoye chena kono thotey,
bhanga bashir bhanga suur shune pashe;
dheu hoye dhuye chhiley jhinuker mon.
pran bhora jhhor chhilo pagol jokhon.

ekdin tumi oshohay; nidray onidray
chhuye jao olosh ghera neel kuyashay.
naam aashey bheshey godhulir daake
kinaray boshe, laal bonyar paashe.

ekdin aaro keno duur-e chole jay.
megher opash gheshe, ojana thikanay.
ekla ghumer deshe, ekaki poribesh
biroho bholar shantona sesh khuje pay.

tobu keno ekdin niralay dukre kaadey?
bishshyoy juure koto ghuum raat jege?
sanjh-rod er ushnota arohon jemon,
protikhhyay bhalobashar kichhu khon.

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

A gaze at a dark moving world

2007-04-27T12:32:00.000+05:30

Starlit darkness shone pencil rays shining on the willow calling downwardly to plain grassy surface of the earth. A distant pine brushed mercilessly by lost winds finding its way home before its too bright for them. The wind flicks every wayward tall grass with a little more delicate humor. More like the caress of a young and slow lover spraying mild fragrances of enigmatic aura. They also unknowingly amplifies the breath of dead, yellow straw heaped up in scattered sense of the labors during the day, who had, or hardly cared, for showcasing their aesthetic sense to unknown rail-road travelers at night.

Putrid smell of carcass lay by the rail line as the breeze change its direction may be just to nurture the sense of obnoxia. The void of the night, of pure creative dark, was just the right time for me to wake up. Wake up from the humble somnia of ignorance, which until now seemed like a blissful dream. But probably my physical slumber seemed to dictate nothing but a narrow nap.

Is this a night to remember? A night to so treasure? No, it is but a night to forget with every ion bursting the brain to focus not! Is this a field in which dreams were lost and space ships were meant to be caught with the sky bleeding a trail to weightlessness? I don’t know, I hope not.

It is in the darkness where I speak soft words that ache the soul and hemorrhage the memories of the past that are like an hot iron burning the heart's defense. So may it be the tall grass of the trees the wind was blowing them and the rustling noise of the high speed iron rail compartments moving was just not enough to break any of the silence.

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

footnote: The journey relates to one from Nagpur to Kolkata during summer 2006, post the completion of my 4 years in Nagpur

To My Angel

2007-04-17T12:49:00.000+05:30

Its been so many days, I met you, first
I was all alone loitering in the dark,
knowing a reflection of your true self,
As you drifted in my world, perchance
Responsibly returning to the dreams and thoughts
The frozen zone remaining unknown to me,
Unknowing of the real me.
The earth of existence that never had been my own.

Had I known spells of the wizards
Would have cast them on you,
Making you into my immortal fairy,
So that you could never leave me,
And we could conquer all worlds, together, as one.
Even if only in dreams.
I would have given you my wings,
Releasing you to the lights in the darkness,
Of where you first emerged.

I would go back in time,
And throw that rose to a harsh wind,
To make you trust that I remain to you forever, forever.
I care no more for flying through endless stars,
As your tears have long drowned out all air from me
And your undying love holds its grasp tight,
Pinning me in a state of endless love,
Where I am able to bury myself.

May be I come back too late.
Too late to hold you tight within my arms and cried.
Till you would have finally called me into your world,
I would have taken you far away from everything,
But myself, away from all the pain, Even if you fear me.
I will know that what you say isn’t true,
Because it isn’t by your voice that I truly hear
It is by the sound of your heart.

I will not fade away, I will continue to exist,
As your pure heart would have wanted me too.
I will destroy all that continues to stir and wake your soul,
From what peace sleep may give you,

For ever and ever

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

dedicated to Suvs :)

A Wall

2007-04-16T18:10:00.000+05:30

There always will remain a wall between them
A wall of sense, of mature diplomatic trust
Wall as they say, would un-permeate knowing
Better not know things more than wind in blowing
Where lies departure betwixt visible and unseen
Does both sides look same and similarly virtuous
If its so, then its just another wall
That hides two person from seeing each other
And thus protect knowing from the fall

But human mind is a terrific thing
It creates a shape of the unseen in mind
With things it knows, it idealizes the form
And keeps it in its own way of its kind
But let never that day come in life
When storm of sense blows the hindered sight
'Coz then all hidden comes to seeing
And the untold truths jumps to being

How easy it would have been, not cold
If there just would haven't been things to be told
To understand everything in the simplest form
Then there would have been no disgrace after the fold
Or better still there would never have been a wall
Then it would never fall as shape as tall
But still they think they need a wall
A wall they would need to un-permeate knowing

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Dynamics of the Winged

2007-04-16T12:50:00.001+05:30

As day flew for the winged thing
He learnt to fly, and to sting.
The reflections he knew to find, on the ground
Had somehow lost their zing.
It rose to heights, above eternity
Of un-curious endless skies.
Untamed stresses bought todays; yesterday
Tomorrow, or what will be, found no way.

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Dead Confessions

2007-04-16T12:48:00.000+05:30

Stronger man he was, he was then.
Stumbled upon silence
Create velocities in mind;
And whirlpool in his deep dark sense.
Gratifying mortality of thoughts,
That did hurt, hurt beyond pain.
Rules those were meant for others,
Rules made by him of broken cane.

What remained to be proclaimed?
What could convince then?
What survival was worth?
No longer holds to be said or done.

As more is obscured to be pondered
Much more to pull than drive away.
I saw him last finding an old song.
And I left him there and then.

-A
http://arnabpal.bogspot.com

Garbled to Absurdity

2007-04-02T15:26:00.000+05:30

There are things soothing like the sound water moving, moving at depth not perceivable, at dense dark hours of the night immeasurable. The base plucked by their gurgle stiffens the colorless roots of darkness. They only mark the beauty of night. This hour of sleep, when the wind has blown the light away, over meadows and hills, over land and sea, passes quicker than the split wake minutes of work-play. Conscience and concern just asserts their functionality to such alterations with a profound hum.

A few of the dissimilar consciences will find themselves amid dilapidated balconies staring at the falling stars, and breathe high with liquor or puff low with smoke. Their silence im-mortified by the gaze at the majesty of spinning stars, what deliver itself up to their perceptions, which remain vulnerable to the grab of anything that’s quizzical. If half stood, the iron railings touching below the feet would alter heat within.

Glass, which is as empty as thoughts, for now, tilted to a side would wait for the loose fingers to let it fall. This medium for mathematicians, poets and philosophers has ever stood by as hard as it could, trying to support a free flow of inventive inspiration, until it could. Even if man has spilt association with them.

The uneasy heavy eyes would trace lines between star points as vertex of infinitely concave polygons forgetting the first and subsequent vertex after finding the next one. Finally the entire horizon would curve into lost memory which would eventually melt into space.

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Kete Jay, Aajo kete jay

2007-04-02T08:23:00.000+05:30

Osthir preronay, osthir chintay,
Ghure fire dekha olosh akashe.
Stobdho shunnyota ek shunnoy shuru.
Ar haay, jeno onno shunnoye mishe jay.
Ekla ghor e boshe kete gechhe shomoy;
Temoni stheer, temoni sajh e, aajo kete jay.
Aajo kete jay, shomoy aajo kete jay.

Bhasha khoje dhowa dhaka maane
Buuk bhora dhowa, mon bhora karon okarone.
Duto fotay jhapsha duto dristi
Aashrito shantonar shushko morubhumir, shushko shrishti.
Nijeke hariye felte chay, krome chetonay
Proti aaynay dekhte tai aajo bhoy hoy
Tobu kete jay, bhoy aajo kete jay.

As day dreams dampen to situational linearity, the thoughts cater to simplified support of any infant complainee. Loanliness zeroes down to lazy saturday afternoons and sleepless nights of celebration. Restless inspiration flutters among a heavily tarficed mind of thoughts. Where tears and smile becomes ambiguous, where stupifaction leads life from one zero to another.

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Amar Chhotobela

2007-03-07T11:30:00.000+05:30

Bhanga khelna, bhanga kanna
Ma'ar bokuni r majhe ranna
Chhera khata; pithe kil
Abar petam notun pencil
Pore mone din gulo ekhono
Porey achhe mon ta sekhane jeno

Ghum bhanga chokhe jeno thanda shitole
Dat maja, chan kora ek gola jole
Bhat kheye, jol niye holud botol e
Dourote hoto roj bag pithe kore

Sada jama; neel pant
Ei chhilo uniform
School seshe brishtir jole
Kada makha, bhije juto footbaal khele

Fer boka scale chhoya lal dag dekhe
Bhije chokhe bhat ghum chepe
Onuraage gril dhore baranday boshe
Kete jeto bikel ta mon koshe koshe

Ghor kuno, roga lik-likey ek chhele
Sondhe bela mota mota boi gulo khule
Jeto kotha hariye sob bhule giye
Fer maar, eibar thash kore gale

Hobe na lekha-pora tomar ei chheler
Mar kachhe baba jeno obhijog dile
Aankhi pata mude ashe notar pore
Din jeno sesh hoto shukkurer tore

Pore mone din gulo ekhono
Porey achhe mon ta sekhane jeno

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

footnote: This is my ode to a generic 3-5 year old who are never allowed to break free.

Heaven's Door

2007-02-26T13:15:00.000+05:30

I peeped behind the closed door
I heard from a hoarse voice
That I was dead long back
And about to make the last choice
The queue seemed long and crooked
Of men and beasts on grass
They waited for the finish line
With a humble and eager past
The richer men carried values
The stronger held a club
Mr.Clever carried his wits
Anxious to join the heaven hub
The toll-man came with jingles
And called name by name
Each got a golden ticket
For their gifts they did claim
How rowdy heaven would be
I thought but remained calm
And when I owed a ticket
I was whiped on the palm
With desires to flee, a motive to run
I was handed to the cruel son
I left on an empty train to hell
Taking pitch dark turns
It travelled for hours together
May be days or months or even years
And stopped at a dingy station
The last stop that I feared
Leaping came the son of devil
With a cruel grin he said "Your charges are cleared"
I was pushed off the train
Which moved in its way
What I saw, surprised me, here
It just looked like a sunlit day
I slowly got up to find
That this world looked the same as mine
The one where I lived when alive
The one where are slept and dined
Hell thats said is here at home
And you got to be something
Among strong, rich or clever
To be able to finish and not get back

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Kurt Cobain - A tribute

2007-02-20T08:00:00.000+05:30

Kurt Cobain - February 20, 1967 - April 5, 1994

We met on a stairway
Steps of haze obscured by smoke .
Amidst cracked wine glasses;
Tickled a grain of felicity.
Bipolar sharpness of ludicrosity.

A blonde slit in senses
By a trace touching but and muzzle

Ask me, who was I.
I was a man; who stood by
Who lived on battered trust
Was fed Love; on the crust

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

The Humble Kingdom

2007-02-14T14:06:00.000+05:30

Come on, Come on...
It’s time, it’s morning
The sour piece outscreaming sleep
It’s all right brother
Keep your rats off my satanic poise
Flutter, stammer but utter
Chukle but mutter
Intense truesome chaste
Do I know what is haste

Blow off, fly fly
Its eve with the burn out sky
From a dry tongue; averse to simpleton
Can I spell love
I'm un-granted to be a tiny bohemian
Unplanted and alienated
Tell who, what is owned
Sane got ground
So what surround; amid lonely sound

Buck sty, velvet hinges
Fortune stance to bewilderness
Of infant complainee, a forgetful rat
Pocketed playful gratefulness
Pile of stocks remaining
The humble kingdom continues to exist

:((
-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Unconventional Rain

2007-02-05T12:20:00.000+05:30

The world, as it would matter
Among recursive windows
Sand would falter.
Brink of a blistering twinkle
Amid curiosities, of ditch granules
Of shaded spurts of adulthood
Of love that soothes pain.
Tears in unconventional rain

Did it or does it exist
Or got creased under sudden fancy
What occupies to forsaken that it did

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

euthanasia

2007-01-24T11:30:00.000+05:30

sojjhyo khomotar seemana; bachbo ki morbo janina
bolchhi tai ar ami ar parchhina; ami eibar chole jai
china ami tor shantona; kimba mitthe kono onushuchona
aakhrey dhore ei jontrona; ami paliye jete chai

aaj manusher cheye halka ei jogot; uthe daranor shoktir ekta kobor
shunte chai tobu pachhi na sei khobor, jokhon bilupto sob hatiyaar
jono judhhyer ei kalo shohore; jkhon nei konopichhu taan
jokhon kichhui pare a chirokaal baachte; jokhon sesh hoye gechhe sob obodaan

tobey keno korchhis noshto shomoy; ami jhulchhi niyoteer opekkhyay
hotei hobe toke moriya; kortei hobe euthanasia; euthanasia.

kokhono amio bachte chaitam; kosto soite partam
jodi tokho bujhte partam; jetei hobe chole
jodi tokey dhore rakhte partam; rokto bindu gunte partam
mitthe kothai boltam; jetei hobe chole

tobey keno korchhis noshto shomoy; ami jhulchhi niyoteer opekkhyay
hotei hobe toke moriya; kortei hobe euthanasia; euthanasia.

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

footnote: the other one

Riyatona

2007-01-24T11:28:00.000+05:30

tritiyo diner obhishaap, aaj aami boroi klanto
ghurchhi ami maajh pothe; khujchhi mrittyu ghorar payer chhaap
aaj sei raat; jibitoder artonaad
jege othe jibonheen sorir; shunte debir gaan

aadkhola chokhe, takiye dekhlam tokey
ami pore achhi nimno duniyaar dorjay
tor pechhone chhute chhute holam klanto
tritito diner seshe

shastir seshe shikto chhoya
ekhono bujhlam na ami jibito na mrito

aaj ami tokey dekhte chai na kintu ichha hoy
nijeke shasti dichhi tokey jalanor lobhe
tor chhele khuje paabi; tar naam hobe bhoy
aaj ghrina palte giye hoyechhe prottyoy

soptom juger seshe aaj jogoter boli diyechhis
o amar riatona tui morte parbi na

keno toke chhuyechhilam
keno tokey felechhilam bhalobeshe
keno je morte hoyechhilo
keno je tokey dite parini hariye jete

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

footnote: two more long lost crampled paper writing :D

Splashes from my days in Nagpur University

2007-01-12T15:25:00.000+05:30

Disclaimer:

Most of the issues about Nagpur University, discussed in this essay, are from a perspective of an underperformer
I do not intend to hurt any sentiments in this essay.

It was nearing morning. The warm gusts of night wind have desired to puff its rage and calmly accept the new rays of the sun. It was June, a month hardly desired, in Nagpur, for the killing heat waves.

For the two of us, Shibon (my roommate better known as Shibasis Chaulia) and me it was time to doze off. These wee hours of studies did the last dice-chance-game work before the day we had exams and gracefully it seemed to work out more often than not.

Summer exams of Nagpur University was, quite popularly, the worst known for its results as it used to precede suicides, students running away, hunger strikes, students being battered by commandos and what not. Our university reserved the last spot among universities in India in the scale of quality of results. Not going into inflammable discussions about the causes or consequences, it remained, then, a place where 70% marks seemed to be a luxury and fate always flourished in pockets of good muggers.

I flicked the last empty packet of Wills Flake out from the window and decided that 4 units out of 6 should be enough for me to be able to answer decently in the next day’s paper (guess it was Software Engineering). My friend sounded perfectly like an ethical insomniac when he proposed the idea of going to Lolo’s.

Lolo’s was (I think it still is there) a tea stall at Dharampet crossing well known among OMH (outside Maharashtra) students for being the most accessible one at 3AM. Lolo’s also served delicacies like jalebies, poha, pakora along with coffee and tea.

Quite presumably I got up straight with a thumbs-up smile, put on that old black T-shirt, picked up my bike keys and vruuum we went. I clutched a VBD on my way as I planned to flick through the appendix for a few of previous years questions.

VBD, the only well known cousin of G4, was the last moment and never-to-fail-you survival kit for us. I was among the last benchers of class, but I felt good that even the toppers couldn’t deny the fact that they haven’t touched these epics at some point of their education here.

The night Ring Road at Trimurti Nagar was densely illuminated with sodium lamps making my back seat book-looking acceptably comfortable. The only problem was when Shibon jumped over those big bumpers making an alarm that we’ve crossed another kilometer. The road towards our destination surpassed the Trimurti Nagar Girl’s Hostel. Even in this don’t-waste-a-second business I accounted a couple of seconds towards the illuminated windows which shouted immensely about their insominity also.

As Shibon rode us to Lolo’s, it was 3:30AM. The giant hoarding above the road-side, table-top tea stall was about to be darkened by the flickering gloss lamp. I have never seen Lolo personally but have heard him to be a skinny, dark skinned and stony bugger. That day there seemed to be no one of similar stature there. The bhaiyas at the shop-keeping end was giving final touches to the initiation of their day long business activities.

We grooved around two glasses of tea and a plate of poha for about half an hour. I even had that closed VBD in hand skimpily clutched to be read at some other date (hopefully never again).

Lolo’s was also a place of pilgrimage for all sorts of students from all parts of the city and all engineering colleges. At any point of time between 3 and 5 in the morning you would find at least 30 insomniacs hanging out in front of that little wall. During exams, of course the figure reached a hundred, populating all the footpath corners in and around Dharampeth Chowk. These fellow examinees, some of them who have given the same exam for over 3 times, were a good source of information; sometimes. They were also just fellow tea drinkers at other times. I have seen old friends reunite here at Lolo’s during exams. It’s such a warm place.

At an intensely cheap cost Lolo’s served these future engineers, Mtechs, MBAs their future in one sense, in terms of a cup of hot beverage to keep them sleepless. A transparent glass of tea costing just 2 rupees and a plate of poha for 5 rupees was a rupee less, as per Nagpur standards at that time.

As our watch seemed to look like 4AM, we decided to gulp down the last spoon of that yellowish substance and ride back to our beds. Sleep was by now a secondary issue and we could just hang around another unit for better chance of passing the exam.

Sounds pretty poorly confident but, yes, this was the benchmark of my level of expectation from the evaluators. I had personally been duped by some illiterate examiner who scratched a zero after every question. The C paper of my second year, which is still the best exam of my life, where I dared to answer a nifty 110 on a 80 mark paper, fetched me a degraded 30. I later could grasp from the Xerox of the answer script that all the perfectly correct programs were ill treated; because they were not as written in VBDs. Henceforth I less believed my knowledge than VBDs.

We came back through the same lighted streets singing “Another Brick in the Wall” and the VBD still clutched in my hand, by then had been coiled to look like a telescope.

It was 5 now and I went of to play NFS Underground when Shibon dozed off. This was going to be the first exam in my engineering life when I dared to remain sleepless the entire night. Life had become tough and easy at the same time. They say engineering is.

I played record-breaking-ly well amid all tensions and frustrations of examinations. In fact I remember playing 28 levels in three hours, the best so far...

It was 8 when I snoozed my mobile alarm to get ready for the paper. I planned to wake up then; if I slept. Things were perfect even after smoking, gaming and keeping awake for 48 hours straight. After a bath and more tea I was perfected to perfection. Absolutely ready for the day. Was I ready for the exam or not would be answer after 4/5 months.

This was another astonishingly acceptable practice of our university. They seemed to publish results in snailishly slow pace and equally poor accuracy. How they managed to persist with such degraded consistencies is still a secret to me, even after 2 years of leaving college.

I walked in the examination hall at 9:30AM with burning red eyes and seemingly less abilities to pass. I thought and felt miserable for Miss. Priya Dhabekar, someone who used to teach the subject in class, but couldn’t help it. She and her golden words seemed to be less important to me than sleeping. I was dead tired and was even planning to sleep a third of the 3 hour exam to deliver during the other part.

Somehow time stopped there. No, I did not sleep or faint. After the paper was distributed all I remember was, I was writing. In shrimpish scripts it was my intention to make my answer-script as heavy (in mass) as possible. Which meant some meaningless point-wise-writing, some far fetched diagrams and some beating around the bush. I taught myself such abilities in the past 2 years and by then was extremely efficient in such tasks. The only thing that defeated me was speed of writing (may be size, not sure) I came out after the 3 toughest hours of my life in a haze and a desire to be dead as soon as possible.

There was a class of student who would prefer to venture around with who-answered-what and who-will-pass-and-who-not. I would have somehow been a sport to them as well, but sorry, some other day. I was desperate to catch my bed in less than half an hour.

A 7km bike ride would take me home in theory but in practice I went of to sleep when I was riding. The rest of the essay is written in white ink ;)

-A

http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

footnote: Shibon and I were real life room-mates during my SE exam. The rest of the essay is also not very far from reality.

Bid Retribution

2007-01-11T11:05:00.000+05:30

No.
No you can't say, what remains;
Under stress of pelting blames.
What loose, what to win?
Somewhere, sometime
It’s you, you who will miss the chime.

Oh,
You choose, you chose to blaze;
A trail of glowing desires.
As daemons thrive your soul
Yourself, you fool by phlegm and sand
You did, and I'd do what I can.

So,
What lies, that you hide behind;
The blue senses of a virgin sinistress?
Let hell choose.
Your mortal desire to rest in pain
I keep your grave to spit-off my wrath.

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Demonic Justifications

2007-01-08T17:31:00.000+05:30

Those unknowns arrogate
To strive, to rule me out
In humble but nasty slitting strokes
They choke to cut my throat

If perchance they shine
'Coz you cherish their batters
In stuffing your grins.
I die. 'coz for me all matters

You act not to have read
What they told or have done
And hush behind my trust
Not living what they've churned

Be kind, be straight.
The flavor you spill or shun
Might burn one more soul
And you would just not notice.

The joy you cherish
Amidst stolen dreams of loosers
Awakens another demon
Who dreams doth freared

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Orkut is 3 years old

2007-01-08T13:12:00.000+05:30

Orkut deserved one more review...

Orkut redefined the history of communication technology of the past two decades, out of email, newsgroups, groups, instant messaging, profile management, friend management and online databases.

When orkut.com started in Jan 2004, I thought it ushered another era of technology. Such a "social network", where each user comes with a standard profile, is a significant improvement to mailings lists and online forums because, what plagues such forum is that people are more or less anonymous.

There are a number of problems stemming from anonymity but I don’t intend to buzz around with them (in fact there are a lot of materials on the web about serious blaming to such facilities). Orkut provides a template for exchanging information from marital status to religion to what-not. though not a tailor-made cut out of exactly the users want, it suits the generic interest of almost all users. I think the interface is so staunch, that users even don’t mind public scrapping and public showcasing of personal attributes or happenings. With an user photo and an album it tends to strengthen that false sense of being connected (though it still remains false.. but who cares when everything else in this world is also an illusion).

Thus, today after 3 years of its in-effect Orkut stands as a tool in the life of every average computer user. Even the most infrequent internet user possesses an orkut profile with a few friends and communities. The corporate computer usage struck so high that today most software companies have banned orkut usage from work place.

Friend management is one of the major advantages orkut has to offer. With having the full array of friends (and foes) you can categorize their importance in your life, send a mail to all them making them feel you still remember them (when you actually don’t). The next best is the communities with an overflowing redundancy orkut communities still stands among the largest set of discussion forums.

Dating seems to be the natural outcome of such things and no wonder its flourished well in here pretty healthily (the consequences of which is beyond the scope of this blog). You have friends-of-friends, mutual-friends, friends-in-communities and what not.

Orkut.com set out to be a "social network" with the goal of real-life friendship and partnership building, its organization and features prevents it from becoming a wild virtual fantasy world. It becomes a social responsibility in our own interest to save Orkut.com by getting rid of some morons or moronic behaviors.

A humble thanks to Orkut Buyukkokten (there are so many email fwds i get about he making this site for his lost girlfriend ... I am not sure he did or not .. but I definitely did ;) who is known for his tremendous efforts for creating such a masterpiece utility helping really old lost friends to reappear.

Being just another orkut user for more than a year now, I just want to document some useful tips and tricks that you can honestly use to have just a little edge over some other users.

How to find emails of persons who have hidden their emails from non friends?

first add the target person as a friend (by going to his orkut profile).
Needn’t wait for the approval. Go to your "friends" page immediately.
Click on "Open friend requests" on the top-left corner.
Find the name of the person whom you just added.
Click on "EDIT" at the right side of that person’s profile.
You can see his/her email id here

What can you do when you want to scrap from office and all proxies are blocked?

Use http://www.powerscrap.com

-A

http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Year 2007 - Bond 007

2007-01-01T11:00:00.000+05:30

As 2007 hits the port folio of mordern in-vougue attitudes it has become somehow important to tag irrelevant things to more irrelevant ones.

I once asked whats the similarity/difference between policy and politics and got tumbled under roars of laughters from young and old audience. Someone said its like comparing the footpath with tubelight. I thought it was similar to sattelight-sunlight :))

What I saw in Times if India today, quite honestly, over scores over mine. Year 2007 - Bond 007. I really wondered over an age old t-shirt message "How come happenings all over the world exactly fits the newspaper everyday"

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

One eye view of The Araku Valley and Vishakhapatnam

2006-12-27T22:06:00.000+05:30

Araku Valley, bound within unknown faces of the Eastern Ghats amidst green fields and haze of clouds. Chillier winters, distance and height separate it from the rest of Vishakhapatnam (just 170km away from here) A majestically designed location for holiday hoppers, stands, as it should be, to be explored just once more.

Kirandul Express seems to be the only train connecting the place from Vizag. It leaves Vizag at 7:20AM to reach Araku at around 11:00AM traversing woble-goble round tracks and 32 dimly lit tunnels, the largest being about a km long. We toured during Christmas Eve and it was a battle getting seats in the train (I would recommend to bribe coolies and assure your seat. There seems to be 11 general bogies, 1 sleeper class and three bogies for the AP-tourism reserved, making it exceedingly difficult to find a seat without a fight) But once you can get seated its a fascinating beautiful ride (though the first one hour seems boring with nothing scenic but after that its a real valley journey, all the way through waterfalls, tunnels, hills, valleys, clouds, and so on)
Snapshots: Image1.1 Image1.2 Image1.3

Although a significant beauty holds your journey towards the valley, Its seemingly a narrow town once you reach there. Bora Guhalu the pre Araku stop would lighten the rush a bit as some tourist unboard here to see a cave of stalactites and stalagmites. But I would recommend to unboard at Araku valley and visit this during come back (arrange for vehicles from Vizag itself and make him wait at the Araku Valley station for the comeback)

The next attraction would be to visit Ananthagiri hills having a waterfall and coffee plantations. A good picnic spot and time buster remains to be seen. An hour or two seems enough for the entire Ananthagiri hills.

A tribal Museum, seemingly less interesting with boating inside and a 20 buck entry pass stands to be visited. The museum boasts of having various tribes of the valley in models and statues along with their mode of habitat.
Snapshots: Image2.1

Borra Caves is another "Ram visited cave" (somehow I find all Indian caves having some connections with Lord Rama and Sita) with something special for stalactites and stalagmites. A 25 rupees entry (15 for children) precedes a long queue after which you get down several cascades of staircases to the entry point. The concrete steps is however built towards the entry and not beyond that recommended further for only young limbs. (I would recommend a guide for a complete informed visit of the Borra caves) But we managed to listen to the guides hired by others. Inside the cave seems to be one hell of darkness broken by some electrified halogens. Various natural erosions have created fantastic cave patters in between (some like the lion, lord Shiva, ram-hanuman stuffs, etc etc. A guide would show you all of them). Some stupendous heroism depiction can be made here by climbing random large rocks some wet some curved, etc. The Indian Railway stone here says that some railway line has gone from above it. The Gosthani(cow's milk) River flows from here. A mandir of lord Shiva, a quite dangerous steel staircase which swings when you climb it are among other attractions. The entire visit should take about 2 hours.

Snapshots: Image3.1 Image3.2 Image3.3

A sumo ride till here took us till 4:00PM including 1/2 an hour for lunch at the Araku market place which seems to be the only spot for fetching items of needs (e.g. I needed an eye-drop)

While you are on the return journey, there views the TYDA Park. Pretty costly to visit but promises to be a bird-watching zone where a resort type, over night accommodation can be enjoyed. We skipped it by chance of luck and saved some amount of money. We however sneaked from the gate within.

The long 4.5 hour journey back, brought us to Jagadamba Square (where we were living at a decently priced lodge called Anand lodge - pretty gloomy but good enough for living (even for families), and who would care for class in a tour) Over and all Jagadamba area is a marketing zone with the Trinity Lutherine church. It was immensely lighted during Christmas with Telugu carols by children.

We spent the evening at the Ramakrishna Beach (3km from Jagadamba). It’s a decent beach with no food available except juice, samosa and tea. There is an aquarium of various sea livings just opposite to this (at an entry of Rs 20) and a temple of various gods (not goddesses - I learnt that in south India female goddesses are not worshipped for some reason) just opposite to the beach. Otherwise RK beach (Ramakrishna Beach) is a great place for the evenings. The tide is not too dangerous even and the waves are smooth. The beach is straighter than other beaches in Vizag.

An entire day spent from 4 in the morning till 8 at night but it was worth the sceneries and enjoyment :)

Day 2 - as it went

The day two revolved around different sight seeing locations within Vizag city. It was slightly more thrilling than the previous day. I bought a stunning piece of dark eyewear to protect my eyes.

Vizag is no different from any other city in site seeing, but where it scores over others is, naturalisms and clean blue beaches. The roads are better than most similar cities but narrow. Auto seems to be the generic transport for people who cant mingle with the rushy buses. We could arrange two ambassadors for a sheepish cost of 1500. But the bargain shifted soon on their end with asking them to cover Dolphins nose which is in a different direction. They asked for an additional 400 bucks.

We started at 8:30 from Jagadamba to have a breakfast at some generic south-indian idly-dosa joint and off for Dolphin’s Nose at 9:30AM. We reached Dolphin’s Park at 11AM.

Dolphin’s Nose is a part of Dolphin Park, a property of the Indian Navy with a light house and a land protruding in the sea. A very windy and calm sea with no beach. The best you can do is get 20 rupees pass and enter to get atop the lighthouse. The view is very scenic but photography is prohibited so carry a mobile cam and be prepared to fight with the authorities (I did). The timing is 3PM to 5PM for tourist visit. But the curator makes more money by opening the park at other hours. He locked the gate and took in other tourists. Somehow I slammed the lock to open it and we went in.

The interior of the Dolphin’s Park shows some dilapidated quarters of middle positioned officers and at the end of it is the light house. They sad they use a 450W bulb for signaling purposes within the rotating disc. A view of the beautiful Yerada Beach can be seen from here. I bet you can’t think of missing it. A beach, as you see from here, with a hill on one side and sea on the other.
Snapshots: Image4.1 Image4.2 Image4.3 Image4.4 Image4.4 Image4.5

Leaving it we proceeded for the Yerada Beach as part of the Yerada village it’s a picnic prone masterpiece. Steepy roads downhill, very difficult for an amby, dropped us there. We could hardly spend an hour there but I would recommend half a day for it. The terrific waves and a dry soothing white beach would make you string to the place. This beach however is not ticket-less. 10/- per person is you got to pay to enter for any duration of time. There is an attached children’s park with see-saw, swing and other things. The beach showcases boats in a corner and you can have food there. Alongside the park there is s decent food joint for enjoying the day. The kids with us enjoyed a fill here and we left with wet jeans and sandy sneakers.

Snapshots: Image5.1 Image5.2 Image5.3

The journey next took us to Shimachalam Temple atop another hilly terrain. We reached there at 1PM. The temple as it stands is a lot bigger than some other temples we saw there. Quite naturally the crowd was crazy and more. The entry passes are for free, Rs.10, 30(shighra darshan) and 100(tatkal darshan). The free line would take you half a day for entering and 100/- would be in 5 minutes. We took the shighra darshan and took us an hour to see. Children entry is free here. The temple has curiously beautiful carvings and a hundi for donations, so be prepared. Photography is restricted within the temple but outside it’s open. There is a shopping junction towards the 200 steps to the temple where you can buy puja related stuffs and god statute gifts. Food is available near the entrance but far from eatable.

Snapshots: Image6.1 Image6.2 Image6.3 Image6.4

The next destination was Rushikonda beach about ½ hour ride from here. Rushikonda is the best beach I saw so far. Because of vacation rush we saw about 5000 crowd on the beach. The lonely beach would have been better but this colorful view was great in its own way. The sea is a bit dangerous here. But it hasn’t stopped the crowd from enjoying speed boat ride. Here we also saw horse rides at decent costs. The entry is assorted by a food plaza at cheap cost. We had chicken and rice meals for eight person (400/-) This beach is also big time enough to spend half a day but we could only buzz in for about 20 minutes after lunch.

Snapshots: Image5.1 Image5.2

Kailash Giri hill is a 10 minute ride from here. Here we can enjoy a 44 rupees (22 for children and disabled) rope way ride (courtesy of some organization of Calcutta). Hardly 3 minutes and you hardly even fetch a snap. Too sheepish! Atop the hill there’s a little park with some food joints a shiva parvati statue and a water spring (artificially made). Lot of scope for photography. We tried to snapshot on the lap of shiva but the guards dismantled the plan. Please do so quickly, you will find the stairs behind the statue. It is recommended to visit there before dark so that you will see an entire view of the city from here. The Rushikonda beach from here looks very scenic.

Snapshots: Image6.1 Image6.2 Image6.3 Image6.4 Image6.5 Image6.6

The next and last stop for the day was Submarine Museum. It was already dark and 6:30. It took around 10 minutes to reach there. This museum is near the RK Beach and opened till 7PM. A 25 rupee ticket (20 for a camera) would ask to enque for a bilingual museum visit (hindi and telugu). The Hindi was highly Telugu accented.

They have put up a 60’s Russian made submarine over the ground and the museum is within the submarine. The thrill is to have entered a real life (though broken) submarine. The demonstrators have been pre-recorded with some knowledge which they go on saying without a change in word. Highly monotonous to listen. I slipped in my mobile cam and was caught without cam ticket photography. Luckily I was spared without any fine. We left at around 7:30PM and spent the last evening at RK beach garden. He staunch garden has no entry fee (for a change) and very windy sharing a steep wall with the beach. They also have made a stairway to go down the beach.

Snapshots: Image7.1 Image7.2 Image7.3 Image7.4 Image7.5 Image7.6 Image7.7

-A

http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

I Count My Lies

2006-12-18T09:23:00.000+05:30

I count my lies
And its just hit a million
Right from when I could speak
And I was asked to listen
I started lying myself

I count my lies
And the book just got over
With just two truths on two covers
As I flip them
It reminds me of my first, second and so on

I count my lies
And them seem so real
When everything comes per chance
The choice is whether to play
Thinking would just be left for another day

I count my lies
And they flush all tears
Among truths which salt burns
It should be left
To be spelt at last.

I count my lies
And I just found the next one
But my book is over
Speak of sense and I would die
Speak otherwise and I just might live.

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Monday Morning

2006-12-18T08:58:00.000+05:30

Welcome to one more foggy morning.
Curse the night that burnt the sun
Desires misted;
the gifted are screaming delight,
Its just one more misty morning.

Broken pieces of red transparent
Of semi colored charms in stance.
In veins is the same;
The same unopen to light till a cut
And bitter when tasted.

Hinder seeing old dilapidated rays,
Musing all along its path,
To splash somnia of total strangers
And skin muttered fluttery.
The like of these broken meaning lines.

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Choose... Give... Take...

2006-12-12T16:52:00.000+05:30

You chose to love me and give me some time
You chose to leave me in your own good time
You chose to run and hide just to get away
What I could choose was to just give up

You gave me reason to buy back my heart
You gave me hate to learn to save tears
You gave me a lesson never to dare
What I could give was your place to fly away

You took my strength with which I fought
You took my feelings which couldnt be bought
You took my dreams and gave it to Mr.X
What I could take was shame and fear

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

[another one from the same crampled paper... :D .... I cant even laugh at these now .. My boss once said .. If you can laugh at your past, then you know you have grown ... may be I have not grown .. may be I don't choose to...]

Then and Now

2006-12-12T16:39:00.000+05:30

Once upon a time
I had so much to learn
But there was no one to teach
Now that I have unlearnt them
They want me to preach

Once upon a time
I did not know to speak
But I was asked to
Now that I have forgotten
They ask to make them listen

Once upon a time
I had so much to make
But no one ever saw
Now that I have broken them
They tell I didn't make at all

Once upon a time
I wanted to earn
But no one gave me a chance
Now that I can feed my needs
They tell me to burn them

Once upon a time
I wanted to fly
But I could not find wings
Now that I torn them
They tell me sell them

Once upon a time
I wanted to be loved
But no one cared to
Now that I am ditched
They tell me I wasn't worth it

-A

http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

[I found this scribbled in some crampled paper in my drawer .. I wrote it sometime during November 2005 ... really silly one .. or ... ]

Just another day for me

2006-12-12T10:42:00.000+05:30

As twilight scatters, in a better way
I look to the sun hazed in mist of absurdity.
Clouds bathe in golden splashes,
Sky breathes blue 'neath sprays of orange-red.
Another splash of colors for the world.
Another flash of hope for the mortal.
Another dream to desire for the optimists.
Just another day for me.

Then I look towards you, still un-woken
And whispered my love in your ears.
Your eyelids shivered taming the trouble.
You could not believe me amid a rush of thoughts.
Mine wasn't another withered name
And I was not sleeping;
To tell you again with flowers.
Alas! You and I could not meet.

-A

http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Of Wolf and Man

2006-12-01T12:15:00.000+05:30

This essay is dedicated to a few random, ambiguous and seemingly musically incorrect chords played together… starts with Am-Asus2-Am-Asus2 ..…….. and so on……

The coldest day under darkness. It would have arrived one way or the other. The lonely, meek wolf woke up from his dark sleep. Sleep of ignorance. of self pity, of dreams. May be just tired, tired of blindfolded-ness, of sleeping, of desires. His heavy eyelids could bear no more rest.

His meekness was defined by the long sleepless whips by the better called humans. From the wee stages of his penalization process he was forced to like being locked up in a 4x4 cell. The iron bars blocking his independence and roars from the rest of the free world seemed to shout out their duties more than any other thing.

Mr. Wolf would stand up every morning and beat against the bars and the little opening he was served eatable substance from. Smell of rotten flesh filled the ambience of the cell. The beating would blood his head and he would stop.

Today was one of those days. And somehow he did not want to beat. The fleshy ambience, the semi-dark alley in front of him which looked at him always seemed to convince his senses to follow the rules and appear tamed in front of the tamers. The black rods would chuckle at its comfort of not being beaten a morning.

It then began with no good reason or purpose. Wolfy would hit his nose hard at the door and come back to hit again. His blood was no longer a reason to stop.

The chaos brought in the gun guarded humen (read as: more than one human) to the other end of the alley. They pushed rounds of fires to dissolve the rage of the beast. But he was not to stop till death.

Did rust do the trick or persistence was a question. The running wolf would prow and feed on blood red flesh of his tamers. Rounds of bullets kept screaming along with his joy.

Matter of minutes, as they say, and the tamers were lost or tamed.

At the end of the alley started another and was locked looking at another dark one. Towards infinity - towards freedom.

Wolf sat down to think of his 4x4 cell. The difference as it stood now was he had a bigger cell. A bigger place to be locked in.

Hush wolf, hush. Even the world is a cell.
Thither, better in this hell.
As cells grow bigger in size,
After every hard earned less learned fight.
So does your senses fool you;
Between damp dark walls new.
Spell soon for the next boon
When you have to fight again.
And there would lay the infinite loop
Of wait-war-wait.
Wait-War-Wait.

Let it be, Just let it be.

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Hung in Time

2006-11-30T07:42:00.000+05:30

I don't understand the recent trend set by the HR of some very reputed interviewers.

A friend of mine recently visited one of the world's largest MNCs for an interview.

After a 33min + 47min telephonic discussion he was called in for a 'face to face' discussion. The entire event took 45min + 55min + 102min + 7min (plus the previous telephonic 33min + 47min). A total of 289min.
[consider min = minute]

After this entire day he was told that he will be informed in a week because they are talking with other prospective candidates and the processes would take some time, blah blah... It has been more than two weeks till date.

It is very difficult for me to note that if he was rejected why he couldn't be informed in plain words right there or at least after a week. These and some other practices followed by most HR of reputations, as it seems to me, are quite unprofessional. If someone was called and interviewed (leaving the fact that for so freaking long) then what's wrong in informing.

I don't know about the "Right to Information" but want to if this clause is inconsistent with that.

Ambiguity Redefined

2006-11-28T12:53:00.000+05:30

I am doing what I do best ....
Random words bunched together ...

In the depth, the voice of silence
Hear, hear the sense of innocence
Among screams without moonlit haze
And dark violet fury prevails
Lost among constant grief in vogue
Even battered with a whip or sword
Groping in the dark cell of fortune
Fearless of gusts of catapults
Everyday, burning green grass gray
In my own insane star-struck way
Stormy intentions blowing me away
Desires in the fiery ball do stay
So, so I do not sob
To seek the artlessness again
Your hands are there beside me.
The warmest thing in my company
Dreams and destinies apart
They hold me and fuel the start

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Miserable Satire

2006-11-27T16:06:00.000+05:30

The ignorant and those who don't care,
Those who are faithful but in despair.
Listen to the saint who speak of the apocalypse.
Often sad of being duped in famine or demise.

Ruler of the curse written to suck souls,
To pain and burn the forgiven, to make holes.
Here would lie the brotherhood of the making
Of boring truth killed by front-liners.

And if the dead were to speak in verses than speech
Would seek this ignorance and burn the lies.
Rays from a resplendent dusk of orange and red.
Could strike the sleeping children's eyes on bed.

But as they say, the modern Babylon would burn,
Between yearning cries and deliveries of Christmas.
Confused are still who writes on the shroud,
The flaming sword would fly ever on the clouds.

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

CMM Level 5 and Beyond - from a different perspective

2006-11-23T15:24:00.000+05:30

A recent trend of rising number of CMM level5 companies has seen a chaotic scenario where most middle to small sized companies are throttling their powers to bag as many certifications (viz. BS7799, ISO etc) as possible.

At the lowest level the case lies with most of them not having capabilities for becoming such kingly superlatives. And as they leave no stones unturned in making their tries worth; the consequences are faced by the people who live and work there. One such "sweeping the floor" attitude is squeeze the last penny out of its business.

I have seen some companies descending to measures as under:

a) Facilities like air-conditioning and lifts of their offices work in office times ONLY and not a minute extra.
b) Making internet connectivity usable highly uncertain. More than half the time the services are unavailable.
c) Extraction of salaries in the form of "sewa" and other seemingly nice words which does not support the purpose projected by the words.
d) Transport (office bus) cost hiked without any increase in the travel allowance from the company.

These being not only the ones with more down the list, it is high time that the so-called "employee satisfaction management" starts making decisions a bit more standardized. Certifications or acquiring n number of companies may not be always helpful at the cost of high attrition rates at these organizations.

Gazzag - what lies behind

2006-11-23T15:09:00.000+05:30

Why I am not on gazzag.com and why I’ll never ever join it?

On the whole, the site seems extremely nasty and intrusive. I had made a promise never to visit the site ever until my girlfriend asked me to delete her account, highly irritated by spamming and not being able to find the "terminate account" link (the way these guys had hidden the option to delete account is a different story)

And here's what I observed:

The sign-up process does not need an invitation. Anyone can join in, without any restrictions. The sign-up process does not even have a CAPTCHA system to trap bots. So one can expect a larger number of bot-generated fake profiles on this site.
There are tools to automatically import contacts from orkut, yahoomail, Multiply, MSN Messenger, Outlook & Outlook Express. Imagine if you import your Outlook contacts at your workplace and your CEO receives a Gazzag invitation from you. That'd be fun, eh?
There are ads all over the place - a combination of graphics, Google-generated text-ads, and those irritating pop-ups (I deliberately used Internet Explorer to see what the majority Internet users' experience would be like). Of course, Firefox & adblock would be able to clean most of this in a jiffy.
One of the features that Gazzag is trying to market big-time is the live chat - one can chat with anyone who's logged on to the website. Either that's really useful, or really irritating.
Gazzag Dating - this is a site within Gazzag, name explains all. A gazzag in itself.

Now, a slightly tangential line of thought. The tool that allows one to import contacts from yahoomail & orkut requires one to enter the username and password of those sites. And a lot of my friends, including a few tech savvy ones, have done exactly that. My question is why??

Would you trust me with your yahoomail password? I think not, I hope not. Then why would one trust gazzag or any other site asking for your yahoomail password?

I'm sure there are tons more that can be added to this list. There has been a lot more things like this Myspace - Friendster - Zorpia - Hi5 - Zanga – Namesdatabase - etc - etc .. but no one, no one, seemed to get on my nerves like gazzag.com

Update

Gazzag accounts could be deleted. And yes, I did find these instructions:
Select the "Welcome" option in the main menu.
Select the "Account Settings" option in the submenu.
Select the "Terminate Account" option.

-A

http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Hero Honda - CBZ eXtreme

2006-11-23T11:00:00.000+05:30

A few words on the bike:
The new CBZ Xtreme (one I was tracking for the last 6 weeks) seems to be the gem of a fusion from the makers of its mother version. The way this one performs is stupendous. I got a AMR(blue) color.

It was delivered yesterday. I was lucky to be among the first 3 bikers of this one in Bangalore. Since then I was bugged at a few lights and petrol stations with queries.

Compared to Pulsar this is Godly. I wouldn't go any further on a blog... ;)

The major specifications are as follows:

MECHANICS:
Displacement: 149.2cc
Maximum Power: 14.2BHP
Gear Box: 5 speed constant mesh
Rim Size: Front 18 x 1.85, alloy wheels
Rear 18 x 2.15, alloy wheels
Fuel Tank Capacity: 12.3Ltrs (Min.)
Reserve: 0.8Ltrs (Useable Reserve)

PHYSICS:
Length: 2080mm
Width: 765mm
Height: 1145mm
Wheelbase: 1325mm
Ground Clearance: 145mm
Kerb weight: 141 kg (kick)/143 kg (self)

OTHERS:
Lights: Fixed with visor and tail... Great innovation
Mileage: 50kmpl (on paper - I'll post the true mileage after I note)
Rear View mirrors: Colored
Pillion seating: Higher than CBZ
Front design: Could have been far far better

I would rate it as follows (out of 10):
Control and Manipulation: 8
Looks: 6
Performance: 9
Comfort: 10
Fuel Consumption: 7.5

In one word - It's a low price Karizma ...

UPDATE December 04, 2006
Consistently getting an average mileage at 53-54 kmpl (after riding at 40-50kmph for better mileage). My bike has run 550km till now.

UPDATE December 11, 2006
In horrible traffic it reduces to 45kmpl. After first service at 681km its become smoother and the disc brake (a bit spongy before) slightly better now

UPDATE January 17, 2007
Just completed 1900KM. The best and worst mileage i got so far in various modes:
Cruise mode (comfortable ride) : best-48 worst-45
Mileage mode (always near 30kmph) : best-53 worst-51
Rash mode (with extensive use of clutch and brakes) : best-46 worst-42
Top speed mode (as fast as possible;most;y close to 110kmph): best-40 worst-32
High speed mode (very fast): best-47 worst-43

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com/

Crazy Mind

2006-11-23T08:36:00.000+05:30

On a Saturday morning,
I won’t get off my bed
Push my sleep to snoring
Or act as if I am dead.

Or look at the revolving fan
Feel the touch of cold
Just seem like a mad man
As long as I can hold

Or with any finger I chose
Wriggle in the gold mine
The mine I call nose
The digger shaped as nine

Or twist my toes and feet
Try to look at my nose tip
Pull my lips to greet
As my eyes try to peep

With a fresh neat mind
I will try to chill
Look a little behind
Just at my own will

This is what I'd do
With too much time to spare
Call myself "Who?"
And just quit to care.

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

[a rather funny one :))]

Seasoning Seasoning

2006-11-21T10:10:00.000+05:30

Savage resonating mind and its oscillations
Sketch brainsick turbulence of emotions
On sands of time beside the ever forgetting sea
Some other times wrecks on the cliffs of insanity

Vicious fluids of warmth subsiding in blood
Shatters an inner lush demise flood
Dark pseudo colored shadows of perfumed assurance
Enrich yet obscure blinks of hatred hence

Unformed scatters of playful ideas
Subject to intricate murmers in the haze
Boundering the simple, flying, linear thinking
To a confused state of simulation and sinking.

Sanity, Un-ambiguity, Perfectability...
Confuses me...

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Sleep of Stake

2006-11-20T10:07:00.000+05:30

Storm swirl, I visioned over thick starlit woods
A path led me from the aftermath to this brook.
The frightened passing fowls swallowed my view,
An eve squeezed between the light without a clue.

Should be an end like the beginning, I thought.
Between broken arrows of perfection abounds innocence.
When rain tasted like nothing but hate,
Thunder trembled ears like darts straight.
And lightning burnt eyes more than fire.
Was a destiny, a dream or a desire.

But I was safe; safe in my sleep; secure in my dream,
Just no good cause, among shouting wind, to scream.
Tasting reality would be bitter but better
Steps on hard cold stones below toes slender.
So I did not arouse to jerk off the clouds.
And jeopardized my heart 'neath the mid night shroud.

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Twilight Musings in the Mind of Jack

2006-11-15T16:55:00.000+05:30

As Jack would think of before moving over...

The past 18 months had seen steely knives hanging over my dead skins. I had planed many unexecuted deaths, the most significant of which was of my own. The dreams as I called them seemed to bid farewell through the panes of a closed winter window of the room I always locked myself in. But after those days have gone, after a new autumn, I still feel I have to work on a bit of caustic sarcasm.

I bear scars over my heart. Behind me lies anger and spite. Anger, so sharp and tightly focused, that it could rend and destroy. Ahead of me lie a future of moderation and more measured and rational revenges. Behind me are two separate halves to the whole. One half, of kindness and benevolence would do anything for anyone. This half was willing to see the best in everyone. The other half, of hatred and righteous retribution would do anything to one who had flawed with me. This half saw no humanity in its opponent. This half saw no humanity, only opponents, only scales that needed to be evened. This half was emotionless, precise, and measured.

In my future I see a whole new being. My two halves of darkness and light fused into a single creature of grey. From the light I hope to take the kindness, the acceptance, the hope and some small remainder of innocence long lost. From the darkness I shall always have power. Power to resist, remain and deal with betrayers. But in the whole being, this power shall be tempered.

I have learned that I do not need to rend and harm and destroy a psyche or a body to attain just compensation. I have learned that sometimes a simple and benign comment such as "Yeah right" will suffice. I will not begrudge anyone who will take a more aggressive stance than me, I understand it, for long have I lived there myself. I have simply found it is not the best place for me to be right now. From the darkness, I know that no one will ever take advantage of me and get away with it completely unscathed. Towards the light, I knew that I had to take the chance that someone takes advantage of me as a risk of new relationships.

My future holds new insights and adventures. My road is not my own, but still I have walked alone. I do not ask anyone to follow me. But someone who has walked a little of it with me, makes it reasonably acceptable for allowance. In fact has become highly important.

PAIN and BLOOD
You see the theme here. I do not measure, I do not compare and I do not compete. I merely wish to be. So I can BECOME whatever is next in this world for me.

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Jack

2006-11-13T13:51:00.000+05:30

The little Jack who fell, in getting water from a well.
The Jack who tumbled down and could not save his pale.
The Jack who broke his crown with stitches and frown.
Sat, after many years; to write down...

The rest of it is what Jack had written.
No there was no 'Jill' when he wrote it and Jack still feels he was pushed.

Jack penned a golden verse and bought sweet words for his sass.
He shut out the candle light fighting the cold wind in dark.
He threw away the muddy robes and bid the shadows bye-bye.

Crude mind and the unsolved riddles lost within it.
He set ablaze all crooked devils in his mind.
And flicked in all that deserved to be forgotten.

He bought cognition with the ash he collected.
And determined to gather all broken parts still capable.

And guess what…

Jack lives in a new home now, which in size is small…
But where it's more homely. Where he doesn’t fear to fall

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

[all except the first four lines (and the last two) of this was written during october 2005, not today. Somehow I lost it and found back today. So added the first four lines and posted it]
Interesting info about Jack and Jill: http://xtronics.com/reference/jackandjill.htm

From Night to Light

2006-11-13T10:57:00.000+05:30

Morning mist surrounded me.
Break of a brand new day, a hope.
Quintessential; I woke like a child
As sweet divinity blessed.
Making my muse translucent.
She was never perfected to sense.

In noble satire I smelled,
The flavor of her substance.
With humble honor I tried to seek,
The meaning, obscured in the dense.

As wintery November dew
Splash off; Unclothe, unravel my slumber.
I course myself in hunt for the soma.
Along dewy grass and a path of lumber.
Justly I looked all along, all my way. Alas!
Raddled I sat. Of the cold and dismay.

As tiresome desires dealt with sense
And press itself down in dark.
A faint apparition appeared
From the haze. To relight a spark.

-A
http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

KLUELESS 2 or IRIS 2006

2006-11-10T09:44:00.000+05:30

[Statutory Warning: The comments of this post are full of spoilers. Please see at your own risk]

Sometimes just one day is all it needs to dump all your work and get spoilt by Iris.

No I am not talking in medical terms. Iris, as I know it, is the most mind boggling stuff (of INDIA :D .. had to limit it to the country .. hope you guys dont mind) conceived, in idea and form, by the budding managers at IIM Indore.

Last December Mishal and me were pretty taken off by it (KLUELESS 1 OR IRIS 2005). About a year later, it (KLUELESS 2 OR IRIS 2006) had grown in style and looks with a new theme.

These simple (but witty) fundas when flicked or splashed as palmful of water prove to be little teachings (sounds like an old fashioned word) and goes a long way in concretising my outlook towards a few (quite modestly 'few') aspects of life.

A few key learning (these are not spoilers.. i put them in the comments of this blog)

Cheating is creative and you got to know how to what to cheat (may be whom to also :P)

Googling is not as easy as looking for keys in your drawer... It takes a heck outta, if the key words aren't in your mind

You are either right or wrong (justifying my old binary logic) [read as: the simulating pig called srinivas tadepalli forced me to think otherwise.... look you cookold i got another justification]

Looking for jumbled words and puzzles in everything pays.... always!

Klueless 2 is unique in theme and has a same story... but lame-er than Klueless 1 (sorry guys.. had felt it) and a lot easier too... [read as: i would have ever been 0.1% successful in creating something that these people have done... i just felt it while playing]

As many names as i could gather: Vineet Gera, Vivek Mishra and Phani are gods and if they are not they will be

the links:

Klueless 2: http://www.iimi-iris.com/iris-2006/irising/klueless/

Irising Link: http://www.iimi-iris.com/iris-2006/irising/login.asp

UPDATE - December 4, 2006

Just discovered that I have entered the Klueless2 'Hall of Fame'. I am at number 276 :D

check my name out here: http://klueless2.blogspot.com/

-A

http://arnabpal.blogspot.com

Bush hid the facts

2006-11-08T12:42:00.000+05:30

[disclaimer:
1. Most of the information is what I found over the internet. My contributions are in black ink :D

2. I got a mail today morning regarding this: Felt little odd, though I forwarded this piece of info to my friends. And started looking on for it… Idle mind is a devil’s workshop you see J]

If you have a Windows XP machine open notepad and type in “Bush hid the facts” and save it. Open it again and you get 畂桳栠摩琠敨映捡獴 or 9 rectangles if you don't have the Chinese character set on your computer. If you copy the 9 rectangles from notepad into word you will see the Chinese characters.

Of course Mike hid the facts also does the same thing: 楍敫栠摩琠敨映捡獴, except if you look closely you will see the first two Chinese characters are different.

I don't know what to say. OK, any Chinese speakers out there? What does it say? Windows experts, any ideas?

Update
I used Babel Fish to translate:

□敫 □touches □□reflects picks □

In other words it's gibberish :D

Update
I did some additional tests and came up with the following:

1. When I copy from notepad to word the font is PMingLiU
2. Bush hid the facts: 畂桳栠摩琠敨映捡獴
3. Bush hid the fact: Bush hid the fact
4. Bush hides the facts: 畂桳栠摩獥琠敨映捡獴
5. Abcd efg hij klmno: 扁摣攠杦栠橩欠浬潮
6. abcd efg hij klmno: 扡摣攠杦栠橩欠浬潮
7. Bush the facts: Bush the facts
8. Bush hid facts: Bush hid facts
9. Hid facts: Hid facts

Reportedly google Translate says: 畂桳栠摩琠敨映捡獴 = 畂桳 Hour Morocco by showing video games seized mongoose – in chinese

and 畂桳栠摩琠敨映 projections 獴 – in japanese

Some more experiments:

1. gggg ggg ggg ggggg = 杧杧朠杧朠杧朠杧杧
2. s fggd feh vgg segtv d = ⁳杦摧映桥瘠杧猠来癴搠
3. this app can break = 桴獩愠灰挠湡戠敲歡
4. Dong has big balls = 潤杮栠獡戠杩戠污獬
5. Dong has man boobs = 潤杮栠獡洠湡戠潯獢

Some other observations:

1. These does not happen when we open a pre-encoded file and over write some text and save it again... say for instance we save "gggg ggg ggg ggggg" .. and open the file to get "杧杧朠杧朠杧朠杧杧" ... now if we overwrite that text to "s fggd feh vgg segtv d" and save and close notepad and open it again this does not happen ...

2. Aother excellent observation: As I was writing this text in notepad, just after typing the the closing (") character in the previous paragraph ... the justification of notepad changed to right-aligned .. phew .. all sorts o wierd things :D [please see attachment of screenshot]
Click Here

Upon a little further research, it appears that many sets of 4-3-3-5 words will trigger this bug. For example:

"Bush hid the truth"
__4___3__3__5__

Each number represents the number of letters in the word.

So, with that little bit of info, let's see what people can come up with. (Hint: It usually works better with all lowercase characters, and you might need to make a new text document for each try.)

1. come and try vgamp = 潣敭愠摮琠祲瘠慧灭
2. zach has the dough = 慺档栠獡琠敨搠畯桧
3. yung ate the skunk = 畹杮愠整琠敨猠畫歮
4. guess this ;) = 楴慦栠獡戠杩戠潯獢 (hint: tifa has big ....)
5. kush lid for backs -畫桳氠摩映牯戠捡獫

plus you can continue :D with this .. ill keep posting to this blog as soon as I get something new.

-A