Sudipta's Life

As promised, this is a guest post from Sweet Alien . Happy New Year, everybody! ------------------ Amidst the darkness of empty words, lies our love, like an orphaned child Where did those beautiful memories go? Sweet words whispered by sea-shore, And, music we heard when it rained. Of hands we held now and then... Smiles that lit up thousand skies Promising us of eternal joy. Oh! cruel time, off it flew... leaving these tortured souls in pain. Bring it back, O! kindly soul, bear my burdens, for I can't. Speak to me like we're never far ... of that love, we held so dear. Grant me strength of your embrace to wash away my troubles & pains.

Too often, we come across these nose-poking friends, aunts, cousins and grandmas who always want to know why you aren't running your life the way they think you should be running. If you are already 29 and you don't have a better half yet, when will it be? If you have been married for four years and don't have a kid yet, did you check with the doctor? As funny as these questions might be, I am sure some of you have been bombarded by these at some time. I heard a few of these answers below from other sources (fellow blogger Manasa and I were just talking about this recently). The others, trust me, are my very own. Lets talk about how I discovered this wonderful technique. I believe in the concept of telling people exactly what they want to hear. One of my landlord's grand-daughter used to come to my room-mate and I for help when we were preparing for our 12th standard exams. Too often, she would come to us with a drawing or a sketch of some kind and ask us, "This...

I just realized that there have been only 35 posts this year (not including this one), which is a very low number. I usually try to post during the weekends, but making up for missed weekends is a problem. Well I want to get the number to at least 40... so hopefully I'll make that number to 40 in the next ten days. :) Also, as is the tradition on the blog, I would like to invite all my readers to submit a guest post for the year-end post. Criteria: you don't have a blog or if you do, you haven't written there in at least 6 months. Well, now is the chance to scribble away at those creative quills of yours! :) ---------------------------------- I read Rashmi's blog post titled CAT: Restore the faith a few days back. Instead of posting a lengthy comment there, I thought I'd make my own blog post. Basically, I do not agree with her conclusions and have some counter-arguments. I think the heart of the CAT administrators was in the right place - they just lost sight of...

It has been close to a year now since I bought my motorcycle. Some pics are here: The Man, the Machine . But just those stationary pics do not tell the full story of having a motorcycle. The swings, the cuts, the 12 second planning ahead and the coolness factor. Yup, you guessed it right - this post will be my own "motorcycle diaries" :) First of all, there is a difference between riding a bike here and in India. Most people in India learn to ride the bike before the car (and so did I). Naturally, most people get the motorcycle or two-wheeler driving license way before the car driving license. In the US, though, only a percentage of people who have driving license (which is almost everyone) have the permit to ride a motorcycle. Now, why is that? Availability, safety and usability of cars are the primary reason, I think. Tons of cars are in circulation and you will find a car dealership within 10 miles of any random place (I mean, inside a city or town) you pick. Cars are wa...

The doc says one needs at least 8 hours of sleep a day. Eight nice tight hours, with stages N1, N2, N3; NREM sleep and REM sleep. Alpha waves, sleep spindles, and much much deep wave sleep: they've researched them all. What nobody seems to really care about is how one is supposed to wake up. It all begins with some damn alarm screaming its head off. For the first few seconds, I'm not even sure what is going on. Why is that dang voice so upset, where am I (more importantly, who am I), and why am I not sleeping ... "Screw it", I think, and try to bury my head a little deeper in the pillow. Oh but my dear, only if your problems went away when you buried your head in the sand. Yeah, I know, they don't. :( So I have to peep out of the pillow, open half an eye, and fish out my hand in the general direction the sound is coming from. The chill of the surrounding air tries to bite into the hand even in those stolen moments. The mind screams out, "Oh shh shh shh... c...

A few people raised objections to certain words in the last post (A nation of bitches), since they felt they were sexist in nature and they generally show women in poor light. I actually have been churning the thoughts about this post for a while, so I think now would be a good time to tell you what my thoughts on "feminism" are, and where I stand generally over the issue. It took me a rather long pause of mental churning to come up with this post - honestly it has helped me verbalize a lot of what I have personally believed in and acted upon for a long time. And oh, before you continue with the post (and might I warn you, I already know this is going to be a long post), please remember that this is just what I think and what my impressions are. I may be wrong, but I'd appreciate a healthy debate over a vituperous firestorm. First of all, let me tell you what I understand of the word feminism. I believe it stands for not treating women as second class human beings.This ...

We, collectively, have become a nation of bitches. Ready to be slapped, ready to be plundered, ready to be f*** and we feel so happy about it that there is a tension and joyous build-up every time this happens. They come in hordes, kill, kidnap, murder, shoot people right in front of everyone's faces, and we go on to immortalize them by making them our idols. I am talking about the genre of Bollywood movies that have started idolizing every single gangster and hooligan who plagues the nation. I recently learned that the movie  Gangster was actually based on this dirtbag Abu Salim's life. And then started remembering Shootout at Lokhandwala , D and its sequel Company . How sick does one need to be to actually glorify someone who has come and shot your brother dead in broad daylight? And how effeminate one must be to stand in awe in front of a theater showing the life of a guy (more like hero-worshipping him) who is probably responsible for the kidnap, rape and death of your ...