Scanning the capabilities of being lazy.

Now that I have a scanner I should really get down to doing some real exciting stuff! 

I should draw!

Draw, you lazy fool, draw!

A Secret Or Maybe Two.

I'd like to tell you my secret

But, maybe not today.

You should leave now

And return in a while

To be able to get me.

How about we trade two secrets

I'll tell you mine

And you return the favour?

How would it be to keep 

Two precious thoughts safely?

Maybe I should write a book

And maybe you an ode.

Let's riddle our secrets into words.

And let the world read something

That makes no sense to them.

They would never understand

The million things we feel.

Maybe they should stop

In their tracks for a moment

And consider what feeling feels like.

Maybe we could whisper

And let a smile or two escape.

Then maybe life would change

A secret would become two.

Would you like to?

Looking at me

He stood at the door

For he was leaving 

To return once more

honguski

Here now begins the journey of my life. 'Honguski', I say to it, let it begin.

Memory Loss

My eyes burn a bit. I just took off eye makeup with a good safe eye-makeup remover which doesn't seem to be that safe. I'd like to sit with my eyes closed so that they hurt less. Well, it's not that much of a horrific makeup removing dysfunction so don't be alarmed.

I also have a bad attack of influenza. My nose is not runny yet but I know it's coming; the silence before the storm has already begun. Notice for yourself - are you feeling perfectly good? Well, that's the silence before the storm! Okay, I'm probably making my condition sound too good but if I could take a movie of myself now you would so totally see the runner in my nose just starting countdown (Or run down already! See! There it goes! Ack!)

I talk too much and I tend to forget that too often. Memory loss.

depression comes in many words

weep
bleed
need
sleep

seed
heed
deep
weed

deed
keep
lead
steed

die
lie
awry
cry

shy
my
dry
tie

by
sigh
pry
pie

ARTIST to artist

'Can you hear me?', he asked, 'Not really', replied the other. 'Will you please listen to me?', he pleaded to the other, the other indifferently said, 'I choose not to'.

Pinch your nose and say 'meep'

So.... My God! I did it again! I began my post with 'So..' argh!

Those of you who have read the above please directly press the 'short term memory loss' button on your head. It is placed directly above the Maxilla, on the Ethmoid of the Nasal tract. Oh and don't forget to say 'meep' (a nasal sound) as you press it. Without the sound the 'short term memory loss' will not occur. (It is a commonly made mistake and I don't like my readers to go through all the trouble.)

Anyway, now that you have successfully forgotten what I did earlier let me tell you something interesting. I bought my DSLR yesterday but I am not going to put up any pictures very soon. Once I have clearly established a good relationship with my Canon and have clicked at least a dozen good pictures then I will reveal it all in one go. No, this has nothing to do with my not wanting to show you my horrible attempts. So once again perform the drill of the 'short term memory loss'. This is to ensure that you do not request for any pictures in the near future.

Before it eats itself up...

There's almost a hunger born inside of me. I'm hungry to go back to where I belong. It is also an almost painful hunger. I wish I could cure it. Hey Eks, and all you Rugrats, I miss you so terribly that it hurts. I doubt that I can take it any longer.

Many many

I promise you, every time I begin writing a post I type 'So..', e-v-e-r-y time!
And when I realize that I delete the 'so' and begin with 'I' !

Maybe that's a sign of self - obsession.

Anyway, what I was saying it that I'm feeling homesick. Haha! My heart is divided into a million little pieces. Now majority of the pieces belong to things that are accessible only from Pune. I want to go back to Pune. To college. To the rain. To my friends. To Eks. I miss you more than I can express.

Besides nostalgia, I am getting the Canon 450D. So you'll have images showing you things the way I see them.

I am topic hopping right now because there is so much to say. Did you know that Amitabh Bachchan and Aamir Khan blog? Well, here is AB's blog and AK's. They write well, and write very simply about their own life and perceptions.

Another thing I noticed is that my illustration and pictures are delightful to look at in my blog so from now instead of talking too much I will draw my thought.

Now, I rest. Goodnight.
Love.

Art And Artists (the good ones unlike you and me)

I recently became a member of Deviant Art a.k.a dA. I've been browsing galleries and I realize that most goras (no racism involved, I'm just innocently referring to a group of people, everyone who is not brown, that I otherwise do not know how to refer to) are so good at art and photography. And so, after such a long time of exposure to their work, I have learned to digest the fact that they are good at art and its relatives, in fact they are very good!

But, hey! It's not fair that they get the good looks too!! Ya' know! Wtf?

Tempted?

..and he lamented

I was five and he was six
We rode on horses made of sticks
He wore black and I wore white
He would always win the fight

Bang bang, he shot me down
Bang bang, I hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, my baby shot me down.

Seasons came and changed the time
When I grew up, I called him mine
He would always laugh and say
"Remember when we used to play?"

Bang bang, I shot you down
Bang bang, you hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, I used to shoot you down.

Music played, and people sang
Just for me, the church bells rang.

Now he's gone, I don't know why
And till this day, sometimes I cry
He didn't even say goodbye
He didn't take the time to lie.

Bang bang, he shot me down
Bang bang, I hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, my baby shot me down...

Listen

Queue Please!

Are you waiting for more drawings?

Me too. :P

That's me!

It is horrid!
Whatever it is, it's just horrid.
Today is the day when I would just pick anything up and break it.
Why is That important?
Why can't we live without caring about That?

It is worthless.
All you friggin' pieces of shit on the planet who think that looking beautiful is all that life is all about go rot in fucking hell.

You have no bloody idea. Do you?

Another Dilemma

There was a time a few days ago when all I did was draw and tear the page out.
I felt miserable. So i drew my thought.
And suddenly realized that all I need to do is draw my thought.
Here, I, again, become an artist instead of a designer.
Is something wrong with that?
Am I learning design just to communicate my own thought clearly?
Is that like walking the wrong path with the right intention?
Or is it just being clever?
Am I an artist or a designer?
I think I'm just confused.

Thirty five more days to go. I think I will kill someone.

What a Mess!

I am not not,
I am just not.
I am not nothing.
I am just about anything.

I am the one who make a mess,
Then looks at it with interest.
I don't know how to sort it out,
It scares me so I cry out loud.

I can look at it for hours but,
Frown, then keep my eyes shut.
Pretend to have no association with;
Try to stand away from it.

A mess it is and the best one,
Whatever you do it can't be undone,
The only way out will be,
For you to take me away from me.

Where I am, I am just there.

You probably remember how nervous I was about coming back home! Somehow the feeling was lost in the abyss of my niece's complicated narratives. I calmed down and now I am thoroughly enjoying my stay. But, don't get me wrong, I want to leave this place when I can to come back to you guys, the love of my life, our life in college and the monsoon.

I like the fact that I really have nothing to do here. I don't make any day plans or go out anywhere, I don't watch movies, tv or read books. 'My God! What does she do then?', you must think. Well, I draw.

And I bet at this Yasir will have some joke like 'iDraw. Nehal, you're such an Apple fan!'
Haha Yasir. That is so not funny.

A Beginning

I have begun to draw. I'm working on a book with a friend which is supposed to be a book for children but I don't know how far we will be able to keep the bad language and wrong incidents out of the story! It's not that bad going though.

I can't really show you any sketches or anything yet. We've got to keep it off the web circle for a some time ('some time' can last till it is actually published so please don't keep hopes)

This is my first attempt at illustrating a full length story ( I have done some illustration for random thoughts and poems before) I don't know how promising this is going to be but I think that looking forward to it won't be such a bad thing.

the room in all its glory.

I think my sister would like to cuss at me for re-sharing the room with her. (I won't make myself say 'her room' so you guys need to stop waiting on me for that one!) She just went 'poof' when I told her that I cannot turn off the lights just yet. But, hey I'm drawing okay!?! I'm already quite blind you see, turning off the light would be total stupidity! (hehe, that rhymes)

I quit.

It has been a little over a week since my summer vacation began. I am at home now and I think I have time at my disposal to do anything that I really want. I was supposed to be working for someone making kids' summer events in Dubai, which I did start off as soon as I came but, I quit today.

I have decided to do something for myself, something that will enhance my perception of me. I think I'm going to draw and write this summer.

A Wonderful Discovery

I could easily state that my four year old niece is my wonderful discovery but that would be half the truth. What is really wonderful is her drawing skill! I can't make myself believe that a four year old child is so good at drawing figures. I obviously do not mean that she draws life-like but her figure drawing and expressions on the faces of her characters is just so amazing.

If you ever encounter one of her drawings she will explain what that character is doing with sounds ans actions! I think she is one big pot of talent and I feel like I should just dedicate my life into teaching her to see things the way she does now for all her life. I also believe that I should quit trying to make my talents into skills because I have been at it for so many years and still haven't reached a bloody milestone. I just taught her how to draw an eye the way I do.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Just now we were exploring how to draw a dog! It is hilarious how she drew its limbs! They were two on each side of its body at 90 degrees! Haha!

Hello world once again. I am at home now. Just dropped in yesterday after a long awaited flight. At this moment I am rubbing my left or right eye. It is too difficult for me to tell instantly which of the two it is because I am dyslexic. And also I am bored. I think I'll go to sleep.

change

A Different Day

It is a peaceful day outside. At least it was till this morning before I opened my eyes to realize that I was awake. She lay beside me, a small girl with a face of innocence. I lay awake after that and noticed that outside my window it was a different day. I resumed staring at my ceiling; it was blank white. I closed my eyes and looked again but no noticeable change took place in that fraction of a second. I looked out of the window again. The small girl woke up and commented upon the beauty of the day as she smiled.

I got out of bed and stood before my sink mirror. I looked at myself. I was a a blur to myself. My glasses were at my desk. I opened the tap and fresh water came rushing into my life. I took some in the cup of my palms and splashed it on my face. Then my image improved in the mirror.

I went back to look out of the window. I saw it then; the beauty of the day. It really was beautiful. I just needed a change of perception.

Deep Inside the Woods

So it was dark,
I knew it then and know it now.
I saw it from a distance and said.
I will conquer it all, but how?

Now it is dark,
I am staring right into its face.
Trying to take a grip on it,
The blank imitation of space.

Love

I finally found and interpreter of the Rain. And he does his job beautifully.

I AM

feeling extremely stifled. Liberate me, somebody.

What is the most beautiful thing about life?

Right now, I hate me.

In Center, In Captivity

When I was in captivity,
I felt one moment of captivation.
None prior and none afterward,
Just once it came to pass me by.

T'was a fragmented stillness,
An unperturbed silence screamed.
Loud as it was with me in the center,
I watched it encircle like a tempest.

But just a moment it was,
It had to leave me be soon.
Came to an end when it did,
It left behind an honest smile.

Learning

There are two ways to making something interesting.

Do something in a way that everyone does but, point out, in it, something that everyone tends to not notice.

Do something something that everyone does in a different way.

Upon Feeling Worthless

A feeling of worthlessness takes over. It is like a change of personnel in a work shift. Waiting to take over at the precise moment so that there is no loss of time. But it is very gradual. Tough to point out where it has actually begun. Like a vignette, you can't tell exactly where the next hue begins.

It's like having visited a building and you say hello to the guard. You go upstairs and sleep off. When you wake and leave the building there is another guard instead. You can't really tell when they changed but at both points you know for sure that they are two different people.

I was happy and wanted to do a little chicken dance for it too just some time back. Hard to tell when exactly. May be an hour or so back. And now my face shows no hint of amusement. None at all. I feel worthless.

Feeling worthless is not good because you feel like you can't do anything anymore. You begin to feel helpless. And feeling helpless is not good.

:(

Kishore Kumar died on 13th October 1987.

Many things, unsaid, are beautiful.

the world is held together by wires

the world is held together by wires, originally uploaded by nehal ahmed.

And days shall come when life will be flesh and blood.
Days shall pass to leave you bare and naked.
The sun will rise to end the night.
It will burn your bare skin,
You will lay yourself down and cry,
Dry eyes will burn then.
That is when the rain will come.
Life will be green again.

Y

I see the lines on your face and oh, how I wish to seep into them.

Ay khuda, kuch aisa kar
Ke tham jaye yeh waqt.

Dar lag raha hai humein,
Ki yeh nahi hai haqeeqat.

Be truthful to yourself.

In the world outside you there is nothing such as truth or lies.
So whatever you say is just unclassified information. You are the judge.

A Rain Diary

An interesting thought in my head says that we must all keep something called a Rain Diary. What purpose this is to serve, you can decide for yourself. This is the monsoon time diary which is stained with oil from the pakodas and chai cups. Stain it with rainwater, mud, etc. Stain it with the first rain drops! How exciting is that?

The rain is coming in a while. Before that come Mangoes! Mangoes are love! Let's also have a Mango Journal. Write about your feeling for every mango you eat this summer in this beautiful country!

Oh! How I long to begin the two precious Journals!

The Sun is in Motion And...

I am content,
With my own feelings.
Does it know or not;
I wonder no more.

I'd rather not think,
And keep on going.
A moment may come,
For the decision in time.

Time now is beautiful,
Here you are,
And here I am.
Time is now to smile.

Simply Bugs!

I'm really paranoid about bugs. In every illustration project I take at least one element that I am either afraid of or have not tried out before. This calender set is called 'simply bugs'.

It was created especially for the little monsters back home (sadly, I could never send it to them). I know kids would love to see these colorful pictures. I had a lot of fun creating this. It is all digital and did not have any pre-sketches or thumbnails (bad idea. you should always do thumbnails before anything digital). By the looks of it, it turned out okay.

the illustrator me

i am an addict of my pencil and chalks!

freak the freaks.

i want to freak people out by cutting my hair really short again. but, the only bad side effect of that is that instead of leaving me alone they will want to bother me with mindless questions. they will try to prove that they are worried about me.

if i was in a world of normal people (now i am in the world of misfits) they would've actually freaked out and would've left me alone. how do you freak out freaky people. how do you repel such sort. how do you communicate to people that you are a freak and it is best for them to leave you alone?

it speaks

I am here,
I slip slide,
I come to life,
To make you smile.

I go away briefly,
Make you afraid.
I want to stay forever,
I recommend you say it.

Say it in straight words,
Or you'll never be sure,
Say it on the face,
Or be ready to let go.

Do it now or repent,
Return will I never,
If you shove me aside,
And push me around.

I am intense,
I am real,
If you want me to be,
Hold onto this deal.

Inspiration doesn't come from design books or manuals on writing. Inspiration comes from your surroundings.

I just dropped work mid-way just to tell you what I think right now. I had been flipping through a color book looking for some inspiration. Nothing came to me. I made a face at a poster that I used to regard as fairly cool some days ago. And almost immediately I reminded myself of a Sagmeister interview I was reading on www.sagmeister.com . He says in there that he doesn't go for design magazines to get inspiration, he merely flips through them for pleasure.

My design drone wants to sleep. Poor thing, I've made him a replica of so many others. Poor thing has no identity in the crowd. Poor thing truly serves no purpose. None at all.

Interact with your negative/white spaces. Give them life. Don't be so insensitive. Yes, I should interact in what I live. Remember the Half glass of water. How some people say it's half full and some say half empty? Now, that is sensitivity.

Look at this a, do you think the black strokes define the letter? oh no they don't. It's the white space that holds it out. It's the white space that constructs it.

Do you see it now?

No matter how far you go, you will always be here.

Trying to look good limits my life.

Slowly you sneak in,
Innocently you smile.
I look into your eyes,
Everything seems worthwhile.

Please come by often,
Don't grow cold.
Together when we are,
Life promises to unfold.

Everything I do comes back to me.

fingers and toes go cold

It’s there
It always is nearby
It follows me through everything

Sometimes when I stand alone
I can feel it’s breath on my neck
My spine tingles and pupils constrict

I want to find a way
To make it go away
Forever

You be my starry sky. But, not so far.
You be my string of dreams. But, not so far.
You be my colors on the canvas. But, not so far.
Just... not so far.

This is to you.

To, the saviors of me whose warm bear hugs and big toothy smiles has gotten me going again. I love you all, I hope you know that. Yes, if this brings a memory of a warm hug in your mind and my toothy grin, this message is most definitely for you...

And most of all to Eks who made Spiffy what she is now. A happy person. :)

I only want to know why.
Answer me before you die.
Tell me why do you
Do what you do
To me..

To bind a sleepless thought.

Sleepless nights possess a tempting sensuality. These seduce you into a play of random thoughts. The thoughts remain lucid only for the moment they are there. If you try to recall them after they have left your domain, you will realise not a trace of it's existence remains with you. Just like Haley's comet with it's bright tail.

Sleepless nights are enticing black holes like. You enjoy the ability of your brain to travel vast distances. This is when you can't direct your mind. It makes these disconnected places and pours it out as a map in your head.

You lie down, in the dark, eyes closed and watch what your mind shows you. Then, not very soon, sleep takes over like the rain clouds take over the clear sky.

I want to say something to you. But, I'll save it for some other time.

one rainy afternoon

one rainy afternoon, originally uploaded by nehal ahmed.

I miss the rain. For those who don't know, my name is a persian word for beautiful, rainy. Therefore, I was born with the love for rain and beauty.

I wish I could get up tomorrow morning, go to the tapri, have a glass of chai in my hand, sit down to watch the rest of the world wake up to the rain that falls.

And sitting next to me would be another person with the same feeling.

'beautiful rain', he would say to me. 'yes', I would smile.

I am standing in the middle,
A pivot against the crowd.
Watching time go slowly,
And people rush past.

In the small pleasures of life, I see,
Me.

many things don't need to be said.
listen.

wishing it was

Look at your address bar in this window. Does it say www.wishingitwas.blogspot.com?
I am completely wishing it was! But what is it that I am wishing? And what should it become?

Truly, I don't know. I just wish I was happy. And, why is it that I am not happy now?
Maybe the truth is that I don't know what happiness is and I just missed it around the corner.

I will never be happy, because I will never know when I am happy.

I am crazy. I am a crazy romantic.

I romanticize every minute of my life.
I emotionally attach myself so much that there is nothing left in the end but hurt.
Everything is the slipping sand in my fist.
And really, if it is slipping then it virtually isn't even there in my fist anymore.

Everything goes away. Everything just goes away.

But, I couldn't be any different from me.
I could never change. If I change or be different, I won't be me.
The drama I play maybe award winning, but it will remain a drama and not real life.
The drama maybe award-winning but I will always remain miserable.
I will always remain miserable behind all the lights and make-up.

Look at me. I'm faking it. I am lying to myself.
You can't see it. I am a good actor.
My drama is award-winning, remember?
It's a flawless imitation.
A blank imitation of space.

Pydhonie Part 1

The formidable weather of your city is killing my wit and humor. (yes, I do believe I can be funny) The place is like a humongous sauna; except this one takes in people against their will.

I’m staying in this very muslim area of Mumbai. The streets reduce in width every month says my cousin as he was trying to maneuver his car till the foot of the building. There are people, dogs, debris, cycles, motorcycles, cars, planks, rods, pipes, ducks, garbage and a lot of other unidentifiable objects. Apart from this we huge woks with frying oil and men in singlets attending them. Beside the woks we have platters of samosas and other fried yummies for the evening.

That’s only the visual clutter. Let’s get to the different sounds. Now take the audio visual of all the things I mentioned earlier. I explained the scenario of one street. Manage to imagine the sound of another street or road cutting through in to where you are standing. It’s a market out there and there are people shopping, voices of vendors screaming a jargon to attract their possible customers.

To be continued..

oscar wilde

oscar wilde, originally uploaded by nehal ahmed.

thoughts past midnight

Last night while I had just gotten into bed at 2 a.m. after working hours on the computer, I began to treasure hunt into my nose as an act of relaxation. aah, my body thought, end of day finally. I was rubbing my right eye with the back of right hand and wiped away a yawn tear. The track of the tear dried up to leave a feeling of slumber. At the same moment I yawned again and slowly opened my eyes for a split second - and what I see! (in the 90% darkness) a swarm of different insects coming at me from the ceiling!!

For people who know me and my insistent phobia of insects (which may or may not exist) can tell that I could piss in my pants if that happened. But of course insects coming at me from the ceiling are much faster (due to gravity and them being insects with a puny body and strong determination to get me) than my action of pissing in my pants or even realizing that pissing is what I should do out of fear Or at all remembering that I must be frightened to react. Basically I would be too petrified to even have any senses left enough to widen my eyes in fear.

Well, none of this ever happened, neither yesterday nor tonight. So I am quite at peace; my eyes are normal and my piss still finds comfort in the pot. I wonder what I would do if that were to happen...

*yawn*

...and then it will always remind you that life is made of simple things. and simplicity is beautiful...

Beautiful Day

I think I must be one of the laziest blogger ever! This is how I came up with that decision, since I haven't abandoned my blog and also I don't write too often but, I still visit my blog everyday knowing that nothing will have changed I have decided to allow people to call me lazy blogger.

The last post is about the picture that I took not so long ago, called 'Lazy on Wheels'. I think it struck me then that I am lazy. (well, that is a plain lie. I knew that all along)

It is quite early in the morning. My town is just awakening from it's sweet dreams and nightmares to begin the chores of the day. Today is Mohanlal Karamchand Gandhi's birthday and so we have an off from college. It is my first fast of the month of Ramadan. I was so involved in work that I never seemed to get enough sleep and would never be able to wake up to fast for the previous days.

I am intimidated by the mornings in India! especially that my balcony overlooks the green forest in the monsoon. What a beautiful day!

I wish you all a great day. May this national holiday turn out to be more than just an off from work!

lazy on wheels

lazy on wheels, originally uploaded by nehal ahmed.

this picture was taken across where i live. bicycles just look gorgeous in gray scale. i like the title of this one more than any other picture that i have ever named.

Read, Read, Read.

How to be a Popstar

Let's invade Pluto
There's some trash in my cranium
I'm spaced and I play poker
Win some, lose some
Make no sense
And return for me
In your hand them fish and chips
Saturday night lip to lip
Music and feet on the floor
Yay! Yay! I can't sleep

It's all about being a Popstar.

(originally written: 3:57 p.m., 23rd March 2007)

Half Lived

The burning cigarette gave warmth to her body from the inside. The drizzling rain sent a cool breeze across the world. Everything was three shades darker than normal. Greens were greener and grays grayer. The heart was ten shades bluer.

Take in the smoke, let out the tears. The ashes blew away in a whirl to another land. She watched every particle move away from her. Sitting at the window sill she could feel death twenty four floors down. The thought of it caused a wry smile across her pale face.

She left the half finished cigarette to rest on the ashtray. In a fraction of a second she leapt out of the window abandoning the four walled room.

Look 'ere! Oi' Mista! Where d'ya think yer going? Read my bludy blog! I sit 'ere all day, bloggin' and typin'! Don't you just walk off on me now, yea?

Elasticity?

Remember 12th grade CBSE economics? I used to love it! Elasticity of demand and elasticity of supply... all of that. Why am I talking about it here, you ask?

The answer to the above question carries 6 marks.
ans. (refer to page 61 of Goyal publication's Creating Economics out of your boredom)


There, I think I just created a little bit of demand for the non-existent book. Interesting. I must be the author of it.

"With my mind, sir!", replied Billy, when asked with what he mixed his colours.

The above words were scribbled by Bhaiya on my notebook that i had bought in 12th grade. He said that it was the most inspirational quote he had ever come across. It made no sense to me at that time. Since then I have been trying to decipher what is in this quote that inspires my mentor.

And every day that I have lived since I repeat these words in my head at least once. It sounds more magical with the aging of the memory...

A dozen times

I drew, I threw it away
I thought, I threw it away
I made, I threw it away
A dozen times, I threw it away

A dozen times, I walk down
I throw myself into the sea
A dozen times, I think about it
I threw it away to think

Make it double, the space in my head
Fly away in the emptiness
Blank imitation of space
Words wrapped around my chopsticks
(Where did the noodles go?)

New sound, vibrate
A song to sing
You sing like her
I stare in confusion and smile

I need to do this a dozen times
Swim in the head and mind
Sleep, wake up, stand up, speak up
A dozen times, throw it away then

Disposable thoughts
disconnect in randomness
Plastic mind pollutes the world of ideas
Wraps it within and keeps it suppressed

Instead, tear the plasticity
Send the brain for a toss
Throw it away
A dozen times

Lessons on going away...

nights have also becum a lil sleepless. i tell my frnd on the phone to hang up at 1:30 in the night sayin tht im real sleepy. as soon as im hung up upon, im wide awake. thinkin, not thinkin, staring into total darkness wondering of what i am doin and how these actions contribute to my life (and if they do at all)

i had a talk wid apa and sammy the other day (on two separate occassions) and i told them tht i am so bored and i have nthn to do at all. they said: u must read. i just made lame excuses to them.

i then spoke to bhaiya this friday, i asked him abt his college life tht he led back then and how he managed alone.

he did not lecture me, he jus simply spoke. he, being the person who inspires me the most in my life, i wudnt miss any opputunity to simply listen to wat he said and think abt it.

abt his inspiring me, im not inspired to becum like he is. im jus simply inspired.


i grabbed a few points and came to a conclusion wid his talk abt the most memorable time in his life.

1. u can read a lot, u can read volumes and volumes of books and things, but u can never ever read enough.
2. he says he started readin when he began college and now being 34 yrs of age and having read more than I can imagine, he says tht he began reading too late
3. read watever is in ur hand. read watever is at hand. jus absorb like a sponge. read pulp. read good stuff. read complete rubbish. but, read.
4. college life begins and frm then on all decisions in YOUR life are YOUR own. ur destiny is in ur hands.
5. never again in ur life will u get tht sort of energy and enthusiasm to do things. if u channelize ur energy you will always get something in the end.
6. always aim to get value of the price you pay. price you pay: not be urself and try to impress other and look cool, value you get: nothing more than sum selfish 'frnds'. price you pay: be urself, be focused, be determined, make goals and achieve them, value u get: probably even more than u paid.
7. wat u giv is wat u get
8. don't get distracted, there will be loads of distractions. u don need to get distracted. u dont NEED to get distracted to get wat u want frm life.
9. u can party ALL ur life, why would u waste tym partyin in the most productive time in ur life.

he tells me now, tht he was never cool material in his college days. he was himself. and now ppl of the 'cool' category at college are either his juniors at work or come to him for work.

and to tell u the truth, i think i love my brother a lil more than b4, jus becoz he thot tht i was worth being told abt his experience and learning frm life.

and yeah, im reading 'eleven minutes' by paulo coehlo ryt now.

- May 20th 2006

'Go DOJOMOTO!' screamed Esa

The men in yellow. These guys have been karting since October 2003. Top left; that's their current team. Starting from left Amit Kapoor, Sunny Deo, Anas Joudi, Shahir Ahmed (my brother) and Anjum Shaikh (in the kart)

The last 24 hour endurance race they participated in was held on the 19th and 20th of May 2007. They stood first in the corporate team championship.

Bottom left; the guys with their winning cup. Esa in the middle (love his expression here!). He loves his Papa racing.

I want to GoKart too! It's so much bloody fun.

She's got strawberry lips!

A very odd thing I came up with. My 3 year old niece and 5 year old nephew were dressed up as pirates one afternoon. They asked me whether pirates had swords. I told them the bad ones did but, we are the cute and nice ones that's why we don't. Now, to get them off the thought of that I had to come up with something. My mother had put a plate full of strawberries out for the three of us. I love strawberries very much (so does fiza!) so I decided to 'share' my berries with the little pirates.

The girl pirate came up to me with the biggest strawberry in the lot. She had already bitten off quite a bit of it. It look terribly ugly. I looked at them for a minute and rushed into the kitchen with my camera.

The other day, while I was breakfasting pancakes and honey (another favourite!), I discovered that honey is a great liner. It can be used to illustrate. So now I had the ugly siren lip shaped strawberry, a dinner plate, honey and a camera.

This is what happened...


(picture: first from top: esa ahmed, fiza khan)
Smack!

November 11, 2006

I am dancing inside,

Sadness watches silently

Alone it sits in the audience

And applauds at my every move

My dance is graceful and my heart is sore

I look at u when you look no more

I stare at myself in the mirror inside

Coz im dancing inside

With sadness, my only friend

The only city which takes u inside is the place where you can go and I sit still at the pavement below where sadness lives

We are not far away now

I am lonely tonight

I could be missing the life that i had before or im moruning over a few more things

Sickness gets me to the core and I scream

I scream to make sure u hear me

And feel what I feel

The quiet ramblings in my mind come out on paper and my heart explodes into a million fragmented pieces,

You’re walking over them, like always

And you must stop before I make you

I wish I were a girl who would be treated more like one.

Do I have to be treated like child?

Im not a child, please not anymore

Im just alone tonight..

alter ego writer

Sometimes I write things and forget. When I find those pages or files on an arbitrary day, I read the words and feel that another person has written it. Just like yesterday, I was thinking of something and wrote down a sentence. I didn't read what I wrote. After a minute my eyes wandered to that scrap of paper and then reading the sentence to myself I realize that at the back of my mind That's what is going on.

"I need to get things right" - That is what I had jotted down.

When I go back to reading the essays that I had written long before, I don't connect with the words there. I feel that someone else has written all that there.

hanging on a line

i dream,
i think,
i am obsessed.

there is nothing else,
my feelings are overpowered by the presence.

i am miserable,
i wait.

in the air

I am in the aircraft right now and the time is 5:00 p.m. My flight from Pune to Dubai via Mumbai was supposed to leave at 2:30 p.m. But, it did not leave on time. Now, I am at the Mumbai International airport which implies that it will take me another 2 and a half hour to reach Dubai.

I don’t like flying. It is a waste of time and energy; also a test of patience. I am bored and tired. A connecting Air India Express flight from the Pune (Lohegaon) Airport is the worst thing that can happen to someone.

Saurabh was to catch a flight to Delhi the other day. He did. But, as soon as he reached the airport, I received an sms from him telling me that his flight is delayed by 3 hours!

Do you realize how much of a pain 3 hours can be on an airport? The Pune airport is a small place. If you stand at a point you can see the hanger with all the aircrafts as well as the people making payments to the rickshaw walas outside.

Poor Saurabh, I laughed at him that time but when my flight was delayed by an hour today I wanted to rip someone’s hair off. Also my anger was tripled. At first they made me open my baggage because they saw my paints in the X-Ray. Then at the check-in counter they got upset with the fact that my last name is Ahmed. So they rang up the Customs officials. These came after 30 minutes to check my profile.

Later, I made plans to visit the bookstore at the airport. Apparently the bookstore falls on the other side of the immigration counter and we were not allowed to go there after the immigration check. What rubbish?! I was annoyed. Now, to add to my annoyance the flight was delayed by an hour. After the delay, we’re still in the bloody aircraft and still in Mumbai.

Also, let me not forget to mention that an international flight requires it’s passengers to report 3 hours prior to the take off time. Of course, I always follow rules. I am such an idiot sometimes.

Leaving,

This is something I can tell my children (if I have children and they grow up to care to listen to me, that is). Tell them tales about the year that I spent living in a hostel. I have finally shifted out and I hope I have a lot many stories to tell about living Outside hostel too. The pictures hanging in mid air above us right now are the ones I captured before I spent the last night in the hostel.

My room number in the hostel was 302. My apartment number now is 301. Strangely the numerals 1, 2, 3, 4 are quite prominent in my life. Especially, in the combination of 13, 32 and 42.

I was just looking outside my large French window and I could see mountains in the distance. I wondered for a second if i should take a picture to show you. At the same moment I realised how beautiful the forest will look in the monsoon when I am back on this chair after the long vacation. Yes, apart from the free WiFi of my college building (which shares a boundary wall with this community) I have a free forest view, sunset and mountains at the distance. Also, let's not forget the wonderfully spacious balcony that I can see all this from.

I should be talking about the hostel and not about the apartment. My hostel warden/rector was quite unhappy that I decided to leave the place. She called me her 'hug-me' doll. Since I got the short crop I have been titled that.

Whenever I look away from the screen I think of what all I have to show you about my new apartment. I think it means I don't know what to talk about the Hostel. Let's not waste more time.

wonder

why do i have an image of myself in the previous post?

i tried to upload my picture in my blogger profile by following the method that i thought was correct. first you are supposed to upload your picture as a post and then copy paste the html address of your picture to the profile. strangely, i did that 3 times and yet there is no change. so basically i will have to leave my image as a post so that you all know that That is me!

Current stats

Reading: On beauty by Zadie Smith ~ Illustration Annual 44, Communication Arts July 2003

Traumatized by: the pile of laundry that I have to do one day, jemma jose!

Playing: nothing at the moment, was playing warcraft a few days back

Listening to: Tell her this by Del Amitri

Recent Movies: 300 – love the end credits but don’t like the highly contrasted scenes, but I guess they were to make it look like the graphic novel 300 by Frank Miller. He’s the same guy who did Sin City too. I’m dying to watch that movie.

Fight Club

The pursuit of happiness – love the movie, it’s a tale already told a few times but not seen this way. The setting, the strange details, very well told.

his porcelain throne

, originally uploaded by akshay roongta.

akshay on his porcelain throne. there is a whole series of these pictures on flickr.com. these people found a pot one day and decided to take it for a ride all around Viman Nagar. this particular picture is the tapri area right across our campus. quite an exciting expedition!

hilarious snaps, just go ahead and let them speak. simply click on his name below his picture.

fight club

I just finished watching Fight Club. I never saw the trailers of this one and always imagined it to be a ‘yo-gangsta’ movie. I have to say I’m totally mind-f88ked right now. It’s a hell of a crazy script. Crazy is actually an understatement. It envelopes your brain and sends it for a toss into the back hole in long lost space of vacuum. It’s 2:30 a.m. and I do believe that when you brain is tired and wants to rest and your mind wants to watch a psychological movie like this one you must listen to your brain otherwise the consequent reaction is mind-f88k.

Whoa! What a horrible experience!

I mean the movie is amazing but this one rattled my brain 5 times what requiem for a dream did! That’s enormously powerful, if you ask me.

Watch it. It’s quite an experience. five stars!

to read

I cannot recall how I got myself to read The Alchemist; whether somebody recommended it to me or did I just find it on the shelves of one of my siblings' bookcases. I had had read only fiction written by Sidney Sheldon (yes, those times in life when you discover the world of fiction through Sheldon books) Jeffery Archer, teenage books written by ghost writers and Harry potter, of course, which also I discovered late and read all five back to back. Then, one day one of our close family friends was having a very excited conversation about this guy called Dan Brown and his famous book, it seemed to me one of those big guys who type too many complicated words in one sentence and form a phrase, which I was never able to decode so I left it at that.

Dan brown, which finally found way into my house, The Da Vinci Code. A very differently exciting read. I liked what he had to say and liked his work so I read three of his books in a row, da Vinci code, angels and demons, deception point. By the way, angels and demons is the best among the three. By now I knew what sort of things I might like to read. Paulo Coelho came in line next, the alchemist, I read it and it changed my life. I didn’t become a maniac who walks around the world telling people philosophies but the truth is I am a maniac who has a lot of philosophies to tell. After reading that one book I seldom talk philosophically unless someone really needs to be told.

After the alchemist, the valkyries, eleven minutes, by the river piedra I sat down and wept and the zahir, I am still reading Coelho books at certain amount of time gaps. Note: you need the time gaps to think and absorb the material. The zahir took me very long to read, you can count 4 pages a day because it was quite heavy. I like his writing but not everyone thinks the same, it’s subjective. I usually connect with the protagonist and become it.

Paulo can tell stories through any human, male or female, child or senior, just anyone, I think he can tell stories through animals and plants too.

To experiment I picked up arbitrary books from Sammy’s shelves and began reading. This took me to read Karen Robert’s Flower Boy. Karen was a very good friend of my brother’s when I was young, then she left town and sent back the book she finished. She has written another book titled July which I want to read very much.

DBC Pierre’s Vernon God Little and Mark Haddon’s The curious incident of the dog in the night time acquainted me with yet another genre.

Last October when I went back home from the town where I study, I listed down the number of books I had read, the list ended at 28!

Okay, let me defend myself when I shay that; 28 is the approximate number since only a very tiny part of my brain is allocated to remember proper nouns. The name is shall list below and the books in italics are the one that I read after coming back here.

Nothing lasts forever
Tell me your dreams
Morning, noon and night
The sky is falling
Master of the game
Kane and Abel
the curious incident of the dog in the night time
Harry potter and the philosopher’s stone
The chamber of secrets
The goblet of fire
prisoner of Azkaban
the phoenix
half blood prince
Vernon God Little
The alchemist
Eleven minutes
The valkyries
The zahir
Fear and loathing in las Vegas
The da Vinci code
Angels and demons
Deception point
Five point someone
One night at the call centre
The flower boy
The hobbit
Memoirs of a geisha
Kite runner
by the river piedra I sat down and wept
shantaram
Maximum city

once upon a timezone

now this is the list of my reading presently, unfinished books or will-complete-some-other-time books
moby dick
veronica decides to die
eragon
life of pi
god of small things
Richard branson
Lord of the rings
On beauty
midnight’s children
interpreter of maladies

A very long way to go. Besides fiction I also love reading blogs and books on art & design. I am I very active member of the library at my own college (symbiosis institute of design) which has the best of art & design books in market right now. After joining college my newspaper reading is dead completely, I am trying my best to revive it.

(applause…louder…faint…dead)

Thank you all and I love you guys, great audience!

bloggalore

Once again I was on my hunt for people who blog in my college. Akshay roongta, our beloved slave driver, began a blogging recently - http://randomn-rambling.blogspot.com/ through his profile I found Siddhart nair, my co- compere, also blogs - http://www.rhetoriksha.blogspot.com/ , I like that blog name actually. In Sid’s blog Aviv Nair, our beloved compere, has posted more than the owner himself.

No, I haven’t read the blog but I really hope it will be a good read.

Today we, slave driver and I, were searching for his old blog but didn’t manage to find it. It does get quite annoying when you forget the address of your old blogs, for this reason I did list out all of my blog addresses in my previous blog. (quiz: how many times have I typed the word ‘blog’ in this post?)

Anywho, my blogs are as follows:

www.aishalbe.blogspot.com
www.bladyblah.blogspot.com
www.eyesnoreos.blogspot.com
(rambling through my weak weak memory to recall what my mood indigo blog is called and of course I am not sure what it really is.
quote I’ll get back to you about it unquote Prasanna - :P )
www.wishingitwas.blogspot.com (this one)

Oh, it's been so terribly long since I blogged.

Reasons: Funda~Mental 2007
Boredom
Laziness

Well, Fundamental is Symbiosis Institute of Design's Festival which was completely amazing. www.sid-fundamental.com

I'm in class right now, the lecture hasn't begun and the teacher (visiting faculty) is sitting right across the room. The projection on the wall (her next lecture) reads "How creative are you?"

Flickr

4, originally uploaded by ned*.

When I joined Symbiosis Institute of Design, one of my seniors introduced me to flickr.com. This is a website where you may upload your pictures. I introduced my close friends and family to it. I believe that it is a very good platform for people who take pictures, whether good or bad. You get comments from random browsers and that really makes a difference. Soon people begin to be regular viewers of your work. Also, you can take pictures of your other work too.

The picture above is what Neda clicked. I really like her work now. Before, I wasn't really fond of it but now I blog about it.

Way to go, ned!

www.flickr.com

Comments Materialize

Just yesterday I was complaining to Maya about how nobody leaves a comment on my posts. Basically, I was whining. Today I thought I should browse through 'breathe' and then I realised that there were a lot of comments that I had not seen before. My day in college began that way and it is a pretty good day.

Comments Materialize

Just yesterday I was complaining to Maya about how nobody leaves a comment on my posts. Basically, I was whining. Today I thought I should browse through 'breathe' and then I realised that there were a lot of comments that I had not seen before. My day in college began that way and it is a pretty good day.

Powai Lake

The story of the IIT in Powai begins some what like this- some guy about 50 years ago felt damn lonely since he was such a genius mind that he decided to find some company. Strangely at that point of time smart and genius were known as geeks (or freaks or something of that sort). Therefore our old guy decided, out of shame, to resort to exile. This exile is known as Powai, which is not exile anymore. It would rather be called Posh Powai affectionately.

Let us call our geek Geek. So, Geek found this one lake and named it Powai lake. Since all civilizations are founded near water bodies, Powai Lake shall not be any different. Geek built a small hut and bought a bicycle. Soon this civilization of his became popular among people like him and they all decided to shift in. Indian Institute of Technology was thus formed.

Geek and the iitians, beginning to get bored with the monotony of their genius and exile, concluded to try what the non-geek people called a Blast. Most of them hated the idea and did not want to be involved but they tried it out anyway.

They used the name of colors explain different types of experiments. A full plan and known consequences was denoted by green, a hypothetical explanation was denoted by orange and so on. There were many colors and many categories but strangely this ‘blast’ did not seem to fit in and that led them to decide on Indigo. Their little out-of-the-way party was called Mood Indigo.

Geek and iitians learnt that mood indigo attracted the non-geek, this made them really happy and so they extended the experiment period over four days.

00:00:01 A New Day

Everyday is a new day. This new day is always newer, a very funny idea. It probably is the only day that is considered ‘new’. The first day of the year 2007. let this be our little secret – we shall call it the year of the blog. With no particular changes in the blog world or otherwise the year of the blog shall only explain the phenomenon of my new blogging session on a particularly new time of the year.

All my friends all over the world are partying together and I am here in Uran in my married sister’s house watching some soap on tv. I am really not paying attention to what is actually happening in the show. It’s quite depressing that I am home doing just about nothing at this time of the year.