As I walked down the hallway
Sweet tuxedo black
Reliving dreams from
Nights he dreams
He lived happily
In the barnyard blue
Making it the perfect truth
He recalled it mystery true
From the depths
He weeping waking begins
A tormented soul
Growling to the ghosts from his history
He acts like its
A foremost turmoil
An awakening from the depths
As he sits
Making a bitter truth role
From the very tormented soul
A crack at the very second time again
To begin the travel back into time again
He rests with his jolted harpoon
To catch the unknown truth
As we yawns to the unspoken weep
The martyr he is
For his cries seek the unheard ear
As he walks past every unmasked deer
Making a path unseen
Making no one it seems
Me, says what he speaks his mind
To none he thinks it’s unsung
Wandering across the scorching sun
A desert where he saw the hissing gun
Now he breaths the same reptile
A momentary laps, burst of silence
He makes himself a half hung craft
As he walks beside his lost empire
He keeping away from the unearthed
The missing mask he curses weep
To a place he most recalls
A place where he
Calls his heart…
Think… analyse… act…
|
(They way I thought after the 26/11 attack)
What does it take to create the biggest attack on our prestige, the deepest wound in our system and the longest running anti-terror mission in India? A well-laid plan…
26th Nov. 08’ a night that changed the entire facade of terrorist being thought as the most illogical and brainwashed people on planet earth, to one of utter fear and astonishment. As the world watched and a handful of young gentlemen, after having their share of the night’s amusement, blindly shot that they wished wanted dead. Like devils prowling their way hunting down innocent pray.
Bodies flying, bullets gushing through and blood splattered all over the place. A typical Hollywood terror attack, a movie scene, a surreal feeling of “Is this actually happening?”
Commotion filled aroma of gunpowder, mixed with the deafening sound of airwaves that hit you deep inside. A fear that surmounted that of anything ever feared off. This was the fear of death.
They walked casually in and sat like they had come here every other day. Paid their bills, and rampantly did what they came here to do. It seemed so simple, how did they do it with no one to stop them in their tracks, summoned their intentions and locked out their emotions. They knew they were walking on the path of destruction, madness and pure glorification. Mission accomplished!
50 plus hours and they were still spreading the same list of emotions that have a black list in our systems. Why was it taking so long? Why did so many die? Why was it happening to us? Why us again? A score of questions amass our minds.
Is it that these terrorists are getting better at it or we don’t even know how far they have made it? I believe its us who have not gone anywhere. We are a waiting bunch of idiots (centre and state combined) who have presumed the role of a sitting duck. Waiting to be hit again, again and again. Are we waiting for them to become passive to us? Are we thinking if we don’t do anything they might just get bored of us? I have a grin of disgust…
So whose fault is it? Who made the mistake? The government did? No. The one whose made the mistake is reading this right now. Until we clear the root of all problems, it can’t be cleared from the top. How many times have we broken the law? Everyday we walk when the light says no to walking. Every other day you break a rule and easily say its ok let me handle it! We ourselves have lost our own integrity. It’s just a matter of Rs.50, isn’t it?
Where is the faith in law? How many times do we see a policeman and shiver with utter respect for the law? Ask yourself, if you were to sketch an Indian policeman, what would it look like? Let me give you a hint. A dark, heavy faced, grumpy looking, big moustached, over grown tummy, a single stick in his hand with khaki on him. Did that make any sense? It’s not difficult to disagree. This is the level of our saviours. Who is going to save them when everyone is in danger? Half of them haven’t had a bullet shot out of their miserly pistols and we expect them to combat against Avtomat Kalashnikova a.k.a AK 47. They stand no chance.
As hundreds of people died our very own elected Prime Minister gave a speech to the country. It looked like an uninspired song. A mere thought that just popped out the very moment. Still it was so stale, the foul smell could be smelt through the TV screen. What was expected was a tremour of earth shattering words that would have inspired a one legged to jump out of his house in wake of national retaliation and civilian safety.
Where were the names that had spoke all about “We are Marathi’s. We are the children of warriors!”. No one knew where they even were. Where was the feeling to togetherness as those who didn’t deserve to were dying every hour?
Like a waiter standing with his writing pad and a pen, the NSG awaited “Orders”. As if it didn’t seem like it was a situation they were specially trained and summoned for. They waited for miniscule things to get cleared. By the time it eventually happened, the death toll reached tripple figures.
“If it were on the NSG, the operation whould be over in an hour” NSG Commander. I do not need to argue further.
It’s upto the people who have studied how to govern, to govern, and to govern in the right way. I not talking about history sheeters turned politicians, I am talking about who know not just the right way but, those who are trained to be in the lead. We needed trained men to get rid of the scum in Taj, Oberoi-Trident and Nariman House. Don’t you think we need trained professionals to run our country?
I moan for everyone who gave their life for our safety, its not their fault that they were ill facilitated, that the currupt politicians gobbled up their money for one’s own security, but for its our fault that we never noticed them, never thought about their need when the judgement day would arrive.
All we can do is criticise them, look inside fellows, the first step belongs to us.
Change is what we want, so changed we shall get. Not change they shall be.
The tide has just started to go back, are we going to sit and wait for the tide to come back and get us again or are we going to make drastic measures to safeguard us?
Think… analyse… act…
What does it take to create the biggest attack on our prestige, the deepest wound in our system and the longest running anti-terror mission in India? A well-laid plan…
26th Nov. 08’ a night that changed the entire facade of terrorist being thought as the most illogical and brainwashed people on planet earth, to one of utter fear and astonishment. As the world watched and a handful of young gentlemen, after having their share of the night’s amusement, blindly shot that they wished wanted dead. Like devils prowling their way hunting down innocent pray.
Bodies flying, bullets gushing through and blood splattered all over the place. A typical Hollywood terror attack, a movie scene, a surreal feeling of “Is this actually happening?”
Commotion filled aroma of gunpowder, mixed with the deafening sound of airwaves that hit you deep inside. A fear that surmounted that of anything ever feared off. This was the fear of death.
They walked casually in and sat like they had come here every other day. Paid their bills, and rampantly did what they came here to do. It seemed so simple, how did they do it with no one to stop them in their tracks, summoned their intentions and locked out their emotions. They knew they were walking on the path of destruction, madness and pure glorification. Mission accomplished!
50 plus hours and they were still spreading the same list of emotions that have a black list in our systems. Why was it taking so long? Why did so many die? Why was it happening to us? Why us again? A score of questions amass our minds.
Is it that these terrorists are getting better at it or we don’t even know how far they have made it? I believe its us who have not gone anywhere. We are a waiting bunch of idiots (centre and state combined) who have presumed the role of a sitting duck. Waiting to be hit again, again and again. Are we waiting for them to become passive to us? Are we thinking if we don’t do anything they might just get bored of us? I have a grin of disgust…
So whose fault is it? Who made the mistake? The government did? No. The one whose made the mistake is reading this right now. Until we clear the root of all problems, it can’t be cleared from the top. How many times have we broken the law? Everyday we walk when the light says no to walking. Every other day you break a rule and easily say its ok let me handle it! We ourselves have lost our own integrity. It’s just a matter of Rs.50, isn’t it?
Where is the faith in law? How many times do we see a policeman and shiver with utter respect for the law? Ask yourself, if you were to sketch an Indian policeman, what would it look like? Let me give you a hint. A dark, heavy faced, grumpy looking, big moustached, over grown tummy, a single stick in his hand with khaki on him. Did that make any sense? It’s not difficult to disagree. This is the level of our saviours. Who is going to save them when everyone is in danger? Half of them haven’t had a bullet shot out of their miserly pistols and we expect them to combat against Avtomat Kalashnikova a.k.a AK 47. They stand no chance.
As hundreds of people died our very own elected Prime Minister gave a speech to the country. It looked like an uninspired song. A mere thought that just popped out the very moment. Still it was so stale, the foul smell could be smelt through the TV screen. What was expected was a tremour of earth shattering words that would have inspired a one legged to jump out of his house in wake of national retaliation and civilian safety.
Where were the names that had spoke all about “We are Marathi’s. We are the children of warriors!”. No one knew where they even were. Where was the feeling to togetherness as those who didn’t deserve to were dying every hour?
Like a waiter standing with his writing pad and a pen, the NSG awaited “Orders”. As if it didn’t seem like it was a situation they were specially trained and summoned for. They waited for miniscule things to get cleared. By the time it eventually happened, the death toll reached tripple figures.
“If it were on the NSG, the operation whould be over in an hour” NSG Commander. I do not need to argue further.
It’s upto the people who have studied how to govern, to govern, and to govern in the right way. I not talking about history sheeters turned politicians, I am talking about who know not just the right way but, those who are trained to be in the lead. We needed trained men to get rid of the scum in Taj, Oberoi-Trident and Nariman House. Don’t you think we need trained professionals to run our country?
I moan for everyone who gave their life for our safety, its not their fault that they were ill facilitated, that the currupt politicians gobbled up their money for one’s own security, but for its our fault that we never noticed them, never thought about their need when the judgement day would arrive.
All we can do is criticise them, look inside fellows, the first step belongs to us.
Change is what we want, so changed we shall get. Not change they shall be.
The tide has just started to go back, are we going to sit and wait for the tide to come back and get us again or are we going to make drastic measures to safeguard us?
Think… analyse… act…
Randoming:
|
The ghost seeks despair
Into the lights of ears
Sparkling like a two moon dance
Waiting for its enchanting romance
----------------------------------------------------
The bird hauls the wind along
Giving a leave the soft touch
Bracing its entire day
Changing the notes
-----------------------------------------------------
The rat smiles for a brief
As he smuggles
A chalk to teach
For the little one awaits
-----------------------------------------------------
Taking the deep breath
Falling through the bed
Hitting my head on the floor
I meant to leave all behind
-----------------------------------------------------
Into the lights of ears
Sparkling like a two moon dance
Waiting for its enchanting romance
----------------------------------------------------
The bird hauls the wind along
Giving a leave the soft touch
Bracing its entire day
Changing the notes
-----------------------------------------------------
The rat smiles for a brief
As he smuggles
A chalk to teach
For the little one awaits
-----------------------------------------------------
Taking the deep breath
Falling through the bed
Hitting my head on the floor
I meant to leave all behind
-----------------------------------------------------
Thoughts caught in the hour or drinking
|
It's the alcohol that drives through,
Liver i'm sorry...
--------------------------------------------------
I can look at you but it's hard to try,
Cos it's the focus that drives...
--------------------------------------------------
Am I looking at two or I'm looking at one,
Or just my eyes are drunk...
--------------------------------------------------
Like a mamoth he strays,
Like a breeze to a branch in a breeze he strays...
--------------------------------------------------
I was moving in the cab taking a right turn
To a never End...
Liver i'm sorry...
--------------------------------------------------
I can look at you but it's hard to try,
Cos it's the focus that drives...
--------------------------------------------------
Am I looking at two or I'm looking at one,
Or just my eyes are drunk...
--------------------------------------------------
Like a mamoth he strays,
Like a breeze to a branch in a breeze he strays...
--------------------------------------------------
I was moving in the cab taking a right turn
To a never End...
-------------------------------------------------
A touch of innocence, the voice of a loner…
The feeling of guilt,
For your world will never be the same…
A Trip Called Cass
|
I walked on the isle of disparity
Faced the truths and looked for a distant touch
Talked within about me
For what I had become
I held my feelings for the right person to come
I'd always been lonely and distraught
Kept the unholy pledge of living alone
Never thought of another till I'd bump into one
Lost my senses to the scorching sun.
A ladder I held for one to jump
Sturdy at the bottom
But jittery when clung
A pool of dismay was waiting below
Splash someone and let me flow
I waited for her who I never had seen
But felt her deep within my soul
Trying to bust out and cry to this faceless fool
To wake him up from his misery, his life
Under the stars to the untouched land
I felt a touch as it grazed my shivering hand
Looked around and all I saw was none
Then I went back to my thoughts of the same scorching sun
Love of my life, would I ever find one?
The one shining goddess was all I looked for
Hoped to see her before this life was done
I missed myself when I was in content
I was bending the rules where they were already bent
All my life was a halted order
One lease of life that's all I had called for
Give me myself back was my cry
Six years all together my heart, my brain
My life felt deprived
What did I know my diva was always near!
I never saw her because she was never mine
A connection I found like a needle in a hay stack
I don't know what happened but then both of us never
Never looked back
How two different things can make something so amazing?
It was like a weird ass movie in the making
I had known her as barely as a friend
Not even 24hrs together felt like time was well spent
I wanted more then what we already had
Because this trip was coming to an end
And I wished for a time freeze
Or just stay here, never go back
I'm still living that trip
And might never get out of it
I hope I don't because I might loose my senses
She already gone through all my defenses
I just can't get to rhyme
I think I've already lose my senses
Now she's all that I life for
And oh! It's true
I can't see that sun I don't even want to
I'll just live like this Cos' my hearts with her
I keep thinking of her all day long
I hope we stick together
Cos' with each other is where we belong..
Faced the truths and looked for a distant touch
Talked within about me
For what I had become
I held my feelings for the right person to come
I'd always been lonely and distraught
Kept the unholy pledge of living alone
Never thought of another till I'd bump into one
Lost my senses to the scorching sun.
A ladder I held for one to jump
Sturdy at the bottom
But jittery when clung
A pool of dismay was waiting below
Splash someone and let me flow
I waited for her who I never had seen
But felt her deep within my soul
Trying to bust out and cry to this faceless fool
To wake him up from his misery, his life
Under the stars to the untouched land
I felt a touch as it grazed my shivering hand
Looked around and all I saw was none
Then I went back to my thoughts of the same scorching sun
Love of my life, would I ever find one?
The one shining goddess was all I looked for
Hoped to see her before this life was done
I missed myself when I was in content
I was bending the rules where they were already bent
All my life was a halted order
One lease of life that's all I had called for
Give me myself back was my cry
Six years all together my heart, my brain
My life felt deprived
What did I know my diva was always near!
I never saw her because she was never mine
A connection I found like a needle in a hay stack
I don't know what happened but then both of us never
Never looked back
How two different things can make something so amazing?
It was like a weird ass movie in the making
I had known her as barely as a friend
Not even 24hrs together felt like time was well spent
I wanted more then what we already had
Because this trip was coming to an end
And I wished for a time freeze
Or just stay here, never go back
I'm still living that trip
And might never get out of it
I hope I don't because I might loose my senses
She already gone through all my defenses
I just can't get to rhyme
I think I've already lose my senses
Now she's all that I life for
And oh! It's true
I can't see that sun I don't even want to
I'll just live like this Cos' my hearts with her
I keep thinking of her all day long
I hope we stick together
Cos' with each other is where we belong..
The myth of creative is a person..
|
A creature that rolls down memory lane and digs himself a big bag of thoughts that have no relation to him anymore but resemble the actual features one needs to accomplish the unknown.
A person who initially takes the unexpected route to freedom of thought and hangs onto dear life when it comes to defending that thought. Generally seen as the most absurd human who lives on others and thrives on killing his own thoughts. He will not only be the one who writes but doesn’t do the same too.
He will lie to himself when it comes to rejecting the most obsessive thoughts that he generates. Will eat, drink and drink more all in order to get into a different kind of thought process. This differentiates him from others who won’t do the same just to keep fit.
But isn’t this what we all do as well in our daily lives. This is the beginning for a creative the world of his own a world where everyone else he sees but forgets about himself. “It’s all about connecting and stepping into others shoes” he says. “I eat to stay alive and keep walking on the lines which I believe on will get me to places where I know I will not fall”.If recollected this is not any obscene person he is just one of us. Or maybe just anyone, a person who falls into a category of being a human not an immortal who no one can touch just because he is something else. This person lives amongst all of us. He is just waiting for the right time and the right signals to pop right out and tell you how good you are. He is just a simple person with beliefs and thoughts not away from anyone of us. Just a bit of effort and anyone can attain the epitome of being creative.
A person who initially takes the unexpected route to freedom of thought and hangs onto dear life when it comes to defending that thought. Generally seen as the most absurd human who lives on others and thrives on killing his own thoughts. He will not only be the one who writes but doesn’t do the same too.
He will lie to himself when it comes to rejecting the most obsessive thoughts that he generates. Will eat, drink and drink more all in order to get into a different kind of thought process. This differentiates him from others who won’t do the same just to keep fit.
But isn’t this what we all do as well in our daily lives. This is the beginning for a creative the world of his own a world where everyone else he sees but forgets about himself. “It’s all about connecting and stepping into others shoes” he says. “I eat to stay alive and keep walking on the lines which I believe on will get me to places where I know I will not fall”.If recollected this is not any obscene person he is just one of us. Or maybe just anyone, a person who falls into a category of being a human not an immortal who no one can touch just because he is something else. This person lives amongst all of us. He is just waiting for the right time and the right signals to pop right out and tell you how good you are. He is just a simple person with beliefs and thoughts not away from anyone of us. Just a bit of effort and anyone can attain the epitome of being creative.
Google it!!
|
For a company that has roughly doubled its workforce each year since 2002 (current headcount: 5,800), Google doesn't much act like the big company it has become. One of the ways it has preserved its tech-startup ethos is decidedly low-tech: dozens of whiteboards placed in common areas and corridors throughout its Mountain View, Calif., campus. Some are businesslike, used by product teams to swap ideas. But the two largest ones, about 30 feet long, are devoted to the equivalent of corporate graffiti. One is packed with cartoons and jokes that workers have scrawled under the slogan "Google's Plan for World Domination." "It's collaborative art," says David Krane, Google's director of communications and one of its earliest whiteboard posters. "We're in a growth period, and when new hires see the boards they get a quick, comprehensive snapshot of our personality." -- P.K.
So, next time a potential client asks what the value of doodling on the walls could possibly add to their bottom line... tell'em to Google it!
So, next time a potential client asks what the value of doodling on the walls could possibly add to their bottom line... tell'em to Google it!
Agency fleva
|
Walking past subway smelling the aroma of bread and chicken meatballs a thought crosses my mind why do we think only our tongue has the taste buds? everywhere you go now its a brand that sells not its product. halfway across the hallway you reach McDonald's and u get its fresh aroma but u think of the kind of people sitting inside and eating and you rethink "nahhh! not my types. I'd rather sit in subway then sit with these monkeys and become one with the crowd then eat lavishly in sub and make a statement of my own even though its kinda getting on my pocket.
last few weeks here in my agency I've been feeling the same. feel proud and horrified at the same time. reviewing the facts about the future its a long shot but i see none but at present its a cool place to be. big brands, intellectually inclined discussions and the pantry. but is it worth here? will i be working or will be the already list of peon like interns walking around taking printouts with a "yes! I'll do that too" tag line on me.
its the agency that looks good from the outside but saves lives from dying from within with its we'll make it anyhow. That's when reality strikes, its a mad mad world with an even better pay role to top it off. we may never get an opportunity like this to work with the top of the line agents working on the most interesting projects to work with. its a lively job with twists and turns at every moment and no shoulder to rest upon as everyone runs for themselves in the race to get to the top.
visualising a day of no timeline, the massage woman asking it i want to extend my time today, the subordinate tempting you to take your time and if you want take the rest of the day off remains a distant dream.
its just the taste of hard work and the satisfaction thereafter that drives you on. life's a roll on deodorant which only you can apply and cant share with anyone else. its about finding your name on the final payroll list to flaunt in front of people. its the agency fleva..
last few weeks here in my agency I've been feeling the same. feel proud and horrified at the same time. reviewing the facts about the future its a long shot but i see none but at present its a cool place to be. big brands, intellectually inclined discussions and the pantry. but is it worth here? will i be working or will be the already list of peon like interns walking around taking printouts with a "yes! I'll do that too" tag line on me.
its the agency that looks good from the outside but saves lives from dying from within with its we'll make it anyhow. That's when reality strikes, its a mad mad world with an even better pay role to top it off. we may never get an opportunity like this to work with the top of the line agents working on the most interesting projects to work with. its a lively job with twists and turns at every moment and no shoulder to rest upon as everyone runs for themselves in the race to get to the top.
visualising a day of no timeline, the massage woman asking it i want to extend my time today, the subordinate tempting you to take your time and if you want take the rest of the day off remains a distant dream.
its just the taste of hard work and the satisfaction thereafter that drives you on. life's a roll on deodorant which only you can apply and cant share with anyone else. its about finding your name on the final payroll list to flaunt in front of people. its the agency fleva..
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