1, 2, 3

It has been a month now since I last wrote something. See, my life has become very objective these days: workout in gym, watch FRIENDS, study a little [hands up] and at the end of the day be happy that I have accomplished them, so simple.

I am getting addicted to red bull, which is not good, not for my parents.

Few days back I gave my first hair cut to Raj. I welcome everyone who doesn't mind getting tonsured if something goes wrong.

fingers and scissors
1. Researched on what hairstyle would fit his oval shaped head
2. Then got him to shampoo his hair, couldn't bear the smell of navratna soaked head
3. Then conditioning
4. Levelling at the sides, then front, then back and then the final tweaking
5. A happy Raj
All in all a decent debut. The Zohan, he calls me.

Bike Story - II

I wish I were a fighter pilot so I could swirl around in the open sky with few traffic rules to follow and exhaust gas like I didn't care.

I wish I were Bulla sometimes, if I had the guts to get into innumerable fights, doesn't matter it is he, who gets beaten all the times.

Last night at around 1am after the movies [Wake Up Sid] we were on our way to Antenna's place on a 150cc black pulsar. I was riding it while Antenna was seated at the pillion. The road was traffic free and inviting, and all I wished was to speed up till where the accelerator went. Antenna warned me that the tyres were old and the bike skidded on applying sudden brakes. We were at around 50-60km/hr speed when we suddenly saw an abrupt turn in front of us. I applied the brakes but it was too late. We both knew seconds later we would have something to worry about. Yes, we collided hard onto the pavement. The spokes of the front tyre was gone. The rim had lost it's circular shape and the wheel wouldn't rotate. The mirror was no longer there to say that the objects in the mirror were closer than they appeared, the footrest came off, headlight smashed, petrol tank leaking, scratches all over the bike. I still cannot remember what exactly happened in those last few seconds. All I was trying was to make the impact as soft as possible.

Fortunately Antenna didn't get hurt at all. I got few minor scratches. But the bike was in a shambles. People gathered around us and helped us lift the bike and park it at the petrol pump nearby. We didn't mention the incident to Antenna's parents and left the house next day without being noticed. The mechanic gave us a preparatory bill of Rs 3000. Fingers crossed, we are counting on our student discount.

It is always good to loose money on Diwali .... not lives.

Later in the afternoon we went to a pub, had a beer each, chewed on some Chicken and Babycorn pieces, played Pool and celebrated Life.

Bike Story - I

I started writing about it but fell short of words, I feel handicapped.

So read Bachcha's version and Mamme's version of the story.

'The road was like a streak of gray paint drawn on a big green canvas, paddy fields by the side -pumped water flushing onto them, Speeding bikes - cool breeze cleansing our spirit, the huge orange Sun wishing 'Good Morning', a perfect concoction of the finest elements of Nature. We felt like being in a Living Painting.'

Bachcha observes 'whenever we are on a Bike together, it rains'.

I missed my exam next day on Medical grounds.

Crushed

Exams inspire us. Experimenting with the new furniture we got in our hostel.

Thank you Mamme for the Poster.

Shadows

Took this photo few years back . The photo was taken at a very low ISO to give a softness to the image and avoid noises.

Model: Pai

One Life to Ride

- Ajit Harisinghani

Sick with Machinophilia, this white haired guy with Army cut jaw decides to live his dream and traverse the snowy terrains of the Himalayas alone, on his Bike. Having to bump into uncountable potholes on the way he makes it to Khardang La, the highest motorable road on planet Earth.

Astonishing witty, the books takes you from Pig toilets to Snow clad mountains in the most romanticising way. His short humours and observations, as my friend would have put it, tickles your funny bone [?]; you might be found laughing to yourself (through out the book). From Deodars to gun clad Sentries, everything has been magically put together in the most congruous way, justifying India as the land of Diversity. It's good to read about India from an Indian author. A very positive book, inspiring, like another critic puts it - 'Makes you feel good about the human spirit'.

‘For the first time I understood the soldier’s sacrifice for his country. Paying with his life for those who use nationalism or religion to keep the human pot of misery boiling.’

'Memories of past events lose their allure with each progressive repetition and I'm thirsting for some stimulating new thoughts.'

A must read for the young at heart.

It took me 4 months to finish the book, only because I had other involvements.

Btw you can listen to the song in the previous post now. I had mistakenly erased the html code and so the song wasn't loading.

O Gentle Sleep

On another Sleepless Night this is what we did:


[You need adobe flash player to listen to the Song]

O Gentle Sleep

Dreams I wish to see,
dreams in my senses no more.
Take me away gentle sleep,
take me to the heavens door.

Cloudy cushion,
watery motion,
let me free,
O gentle Sleep.

Into the darkness,
away from my shadow,
away from all,
to the breezy meadows.

Let me free,
O gentle Sleep.
Let me free,
O gentle sleep.


Composed and sung by FKD.