Adios :(

Well friends, I had already decided on this course of action quite some time back, and now, without any further ado, I shall put this into words, and get over with it quickly: it's time for this blog to go to sleep! So goodnight and goodbye! :(

For those of you who were wondering the story behind the name, well it goes like this: I was at a Feedback jam one day, when we guys were talking about this deth metal, and black metal, bullsh**, and it so happens that there is this very big deth metal guy from Bombay called Sahil Makija, who is very famous in the (sick) Delhi rock circuit. For some strange, and obscure reason this chap prefers to be called by the name The Demonstealer, and he also has a deth metal band called Reptilian Deth (wtf??!!lolz!). So anyways, Mridul and I are talking about this guy, when all of a sudden Mridul says, "What a corny name! I mean, what the hell does one do stealing demons?". And that's when it clicked! Simple! No deep fundaas or sh** like that, just a stupid little sentence, about a stupid little name! :)

Well, thats that! Thoroughly enjoyed this blog, and here's a special thanks to all the known and unknown readers of this blog. This is Stealing Demons, no ME, Shamir, saying over and out!

For those of you who are first time readers, I would recommend you start off with my blog on "The Couches", to get an idea of what I write about. But in any case I don't think its worth the effort. :(

Audios!

Madness

"It must be love, love, love
It must be love, love, love
Nothing more, nothing less,
Love is the best"

Just discovered one of my old-time favourite songs: a cute little song called "It must be love", by this cute little band called Madness.

The will of nature

I'm sure not many would have observed this: see the will of nature in action? Against all odds, this lone tree grows out of the rocks, at Hoginakkal water falls. Against the current, and against gravity, it grows right in the middle of nowhere. This is the will, and the beauty, of nature.

Thanks for this amazing pic, Malhotra!

She

She came right out of the blue; out of nowhere, into my life. She hit me like a bullet ... literally! I was alone, and happy, with absolutely no worries in life. And then she came along. She HAD to. It was her obstinance, I guess. I didn't want her, and told her to get the hell out of my life. But she didn't listen. She would have none of it. And that's when this heart of stone, of mine, melted, and I fell in love with her. Yes! I fell head over heels for her. I touched her, with my hands, on her nose. Ran it along the smooth lines of her face; brushed her eyes, and wanted to touch the hair she didn't have. I then gently ran my hand along her spine, all the way down her well shaped, and rounded, body, right down to her shapely hips. It was her eyes that got me ... her lovely, bovine eyes. And her skin ... it was velvety smooth, and dusky like a beautiful evening. Yes, her adamance and insistance had won over me, and melted my resolve.

So I finally yielded, and gave her the pineapple piece I was eating!

And who was she? A cute, plump, grey cow, who hounded all of us for our pineapples, at Hoginakkal water falls, yesterday! [:P]

Time flies and people change ...

The pics say it all!

Joshua

I had the privilege of seeing Joshua Grant, in action, for the first time in my life, last Saturday evening, at an AU concert, here in Bangalore. Performing with him were Siddhant and Chintamani, the guys in whose studio, Feedback did their recording.

Well, I had heard about Joshua before, from Mridul, Siddhant, Chintamani and Suri. I had heard, of an amazingly refined jazz drummer, who could shred metal and rock too. I had heard of, his insane spasms, which leave you wondering at what exactly he had played. I had recorded the drums on "Introspect", on one of his TAMA kits, and remember Akshat, remarking on the stick hit marks, spanking fair and square, bang, right in the middle of the snare, "This has to be Josh's practicing!".

And on Saturday evening I saw all that! What technique, what control, what phrasing, what style, what out-of-control tom rolls, what amazing odd beat pattern grooves, what ghost notes, what NOT!

I consider myself lucky to have finally seen Joshua in action; without any further ado, he straight away goes into my list of drumming inspirations!

Wtf ?!

I don't normally use the f*** word these days, but I have to now.

You make me belong to some place I'm not,
I wanna ask you f***ers, if you've ever given it a thought,
As to how sick and tired I'm, of hearing you say,
The same old bullsh**, day after day.

A couple of times was okay with me,
But too much of this sh** constantly, and I
Won't be able to tell you when I'm gonna break,
I'll smash you a fistful more'n you can take.

Anyways, what the f***, makes you think you're elite?
And what the f*** makes you act so uppity?
Just cause you're from some f***ed up part of this place
Doesn't mean that you losers are a superior race,

Or the same kinda bullsh** you always use,
To degrade me, and justify this abuse.
Well, f*** the tension, and f*** the anger
These pent up feelings have given way to hunger.

A hunger for me to get some release,
To smash some face, and break a few teeth.
Cause if you care to look around this place,
My middle finger is in your goddamn face.

The Aviator

See her? She is Lucy ... sweet Lucy. She is a beauty! She was, and is, my one, and only, true love. The only woman I have ever given my love to. She was perfect! Still is perfect to me ... Check out this babe's curves. The way her head tapers down to her elegant and beautiful butt. See how smooth her skin is? Even now in this old age ... And don't take her age for granted; she still packs quite a punch, with her raw power. She is moody and temperamental, and, like any other woman, has her mood swings, of ups and downs. But she knows me, and no matter how mad she gets, and no matter what I do, she believes in me. All the times I've failed; gone slightly off the rail, she's there to remind me, that she believes in me. It's then I can take control of her, and ease away all the pain. And when that happens, I can't describe the feeling we get, when we soar heavenwards (provided, of course, we don't go into a stall or a tailspin!). It's ecstasy for both of us.

The girls these days are much faster, over-sized, and evil-intentioned. Well that's what most boys want, but no, not for me. I'm happy with sweet Lucy. I've always been a sucker with fast females!

Lucy and I hardly get time to spend together these days; we are two slow old souls separated, and trapped in a fast and overwhelming new world. But no matter how far apart she will be from me, she will always be my one, and only, true love. I will always cherish the memories I had with her ... just us, the sky, the clouds and the sun in our eyes ... I never have, and never will, love any other woman ... it always was, and is, Lucy ... sweet Lucy.


PS: Lucy is a Supermarine Spitfire Mk II, a legendary WWII fighter aircraft, from Britain, along with, probably, the likes of America's P-51 "Mustang", Germany's Messerschmitt Me-90, and Japan's "Zero".

About Jane ...

I was reading through reviews of Maroon 5's latest new chart busting album "It Won't Be Soon Before Long", when I got to know of the interesting fact that their, equally awesome, first album, "Songs About Jane", was written by singer Adam Levine, entirely during, and about his traumatic, and heart-rending break-up with his girlfriend. It was then that this started making sense to me:

"This love has taken it’s toll on me
She said goodbye too many times before
And her heart is breaking in front of me
I have no choice cause I won’t say goodbye anymore"

So much for you Jane ... you made a huge mistake.

The Tenets of Peace

Having gone through this arduous pilgrimage called life, thus far, without overly much adversity, I have, through my powers of foresight, supreme judgement, keen observation and adaptability, garnered and treatised on the tenets of peace. Enjoy!

1) Peace is all about listening to good, soul-soothing music and sipping on Bacardi breezers.
2) Peace is when you spend 160 bucks, to travel halfway across the friggin' countryside to bungee jump, only to be informed you can't, and then realize the wild goose chase was totally worth it, when you see your friends around/with you.
3) Peace is about standing on a high rise rooftop, feeling the wind in your hair, and watching the occasional kite soar past you.
4) Peace is all about sitting at Nescafe, and wasting time.
5) Peace is NOT playing taash at Nescafe, with Dhar, Goel and the casino gang, no matter how many times the bastards ask you to.
6) Peace is what Attachee, Tallu and I normally do in Moti's room!
7) Peace is when you reailze that Sumeet Khullar, Akshay Gautam, Abhimanyu Talwar, Rohan Jain, Sanny Choudhary, Ramajjla Vivek Govind, Gaurav Lodha, Mohit Mittal, Gagandeep Singh and Abhishek Arora are gods!
8) Peace is about realizing that it is futile planning trips to Pondicherry or any other godforsaken place, and reconciling yourself with the fact, that you'll just tag along with any other trip someone else is planning.
9) Peace is about figuring out who are studs, and who are choos.
10) Peace is about realizing YOU are a stud!
11) Peace is about realizing YOU are a choo!
12) Peace cannot be attained through fags, booze, dope, fuseball, pool or AOE. They are fraud.
13) Peace is about realizing, what you thought was everything in life, was actually a small fraction of what life is actually all about.
14) Peace is about staring up at the sky and admiring the clouds/ sunset/ treeline that you see.
15) Peace is when you are at home with Mom and Dad.
16) Peace is when you are hugging huge, furry dogs called Simba and Iris.
17) Peace is when you realize how fortunate you are, to be in the position, where you're at, and be grateful that things are not as bad as they could've been.
18) Peace tells you that skunks stink ... they are smelly, disgusting creatures!
19) Peace is all about moving on from kiddish, immature nu metal, deth metal and other similar rubbish to hip-hop, pop, electronica, jazz rock, progressive and underground.
20) Peace is all about hogging on biryani, sausages, ham, bacon, ilish maach, and the plethora of other non-veg dishes out there (Mama, I'm coming home on the 21st!) .
21) Peace is confidently telling your stoutly Bengali grandma: "Aami bangla bolte paari na!"
22) Peace is when you sit around at Central Park in CP, with friends, in the evening, and admire the brilliant sunset, across the backdrop of the not-so-brilliant CP skyline.
23) Peace is when you realize that drumming sucks, and it was a guitar player that you should've been all along!
24) Peace is about realizing how fortunate you are, to have had the honour of playing alongside Mridul Ganesh.
25) Peace is when you realize that you're a friggin' compu tchienticht at IIT Delhi!

and lastly,

26) Peace is all about ... F* ALL, screw the peace, screw the skunk, screw the copyrights .... be at peace!!!

:p

Love Story

I found this sentence from Erich Segal's "Love Story" pretty cool:
"The pain of not knowing what to do, was overshadowed only by the pain of not knowing what I had already done."

Humpty Dumpty

Fig.1 The crack in the chair, which lead to the disaster. (Picture courtesy: me)

Fig.2 Moti and the chair, collapsed in a heap on the floor. (Picture courtesy: Ramvajjla Vivek Govind)

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall ... and in this case all the king's men kicked his arse thoroughly after that! Yeah, Friday the 15th, June, 2007 was a momentous day, in that, Moti finally accomplished the, seemingly impossible, task of making a sturdy steel chair collapse under his gargantuan weight (which, by the way, is now less than mine ... hah! finally ... ).

How it happened was this: all of us were sitting around a table and joking around, when suddenly Moti came up with this extremely gross joke on Khullar. I will not go into the gory details of the joke, but suffice my telling you that it was sick, on the verge of making one vomit (the joke immensely appealed to me, however!). All of us burst out laughing at this joke, and all of a sudden, before we knew it, plop! ... the chair and Moti collapsed in a heap on the floor ... which only made us laugh our guts out, even more!

The gODS

If I have been able to live through this internship at Yahoo! inc. , thus far, in this cursed city of Bangalore, then it is solely because I, a mere mortal, have been graced enough, to spend my time here, in the divine and benign presence of three gods.

I used to be a fool earlier ... a sinner ... a blasphemous blotto, wasting away my life in ignorance of the fact that these very three immortal gods were right there, all along, for my salvation. Fortunately, this Bangalore trip made me realize and appreciate this fact, and now, I can truly say that I have been graced! These gods manifest themselves, here on earth, in human form, in the unique, and rather diversified, forms of Mohit Mittal, Gagandeep Singh and Abhishek Arora. Like I said, their forms are rather diversified: Mittal is tall, stooped, apologetic and pigeon footed; Arora is short, squat, tubby and confident; Gagan is soft spoken, and of medium build, medium height and medium confidence. Deceivingly human, but gods nevertheless ....

The gods are here for my salvation. Two of them, Mittal and Gagan, sit on either side of my desk, to provide for easy remedy of any of my problems related to Linux/C++, which are numerous, manifold, trivial, frustratingly trivial, exasperatingly trivial and trivial on the verge of permanently branding me a blemish in the name of Computer Science and Engineering, at IITD. These two gods generally alternate between each other, in listening to music, and so when one god is listening to music on the headphones, I approach the other god to help me. If, by some unfortunate circumstance, both these gods are simultaneously listening to music, I holler out across the cubicles to the third god, Arora, who sits a couple of cubicles away. In the end, one of them is always there for my salvation!

The music these gods listen to is ethereal, and primarily consists of heart stoppingly fleshy videos of such illustrious artists as Akon, Snoop Dogg, 50 Cent, The Pussycat Dolls and The New Virgos. In between rescuing fallen souls, such as mine, these gods spend most of their time here at Yahoo! inc. sleeping, eating, watching Japanese animes, listening to the aforementioned music and their corresponding videos, kicking each others arses, taking intermittent coffee and pool breaks, Orkutting, chatting, and whenever they have nothing else to do, quickly finishing off the trivial work assigned to them at Yahoo! inc. Like the greek gods, these ones also spend most of their time in pointless infighting and multi-pronged efforts to psyche each other out. The primary allabys for this kind of infighting are failed friend requests sent random girls on orkut, the HR chicks floating around office, and any other chink visible in their armour. Oft, when they reach a stalemate, they redirect their angst and ire against me, a helpless soul in the face of all this flak. I see stars when they do that ...

But nevertheless, they are gods. Temperamental, moody, funny and hilarious gods. And they are here for my salvation. And so I shall be ever grateful to them ... the gODS!

Optic Flow Field Segmentation and Motion Estimation Using a Robust Genetic Partitioning Algorithm

Yeah, that's the name of the paper I'm trying to get through. Trying to comprehend the very meaning of the paper title took me about an hour. It's almost been a day ... a day of banging my head against a brick wall ... and only ending up smashing it into pulp! This paper would put a Spartan to shame, from all the looks of it. It is impenetrable, and it just won't let me by. Seeing this paper brings back horrible, and forgettable, past visions of NSC, drifting in. There are enough epsilons, betas, rhos, Ws, Xs, matrix multiplications, inversions, transposes and complements to make even an army of Einsteins flee, tails between their legs. And then they expect me, a mere mortal, to get through this ...

... time to listen to some mind-numbing Meshuggah!

Copyright violations!

Not fair! Agreed that I am not as much of a stud, as I think I am, but I am quite a big stud. In the brief course of my life, thus far, I have come up with several, very catchy phrases/dialogues, and it is much to my ire, that I find folks copying my copyrighted dialogues. Not fair! Here are some instances:

1)A person with a wonderful taste in music, whose name I shall not take, and who happens to be a very big fan of Feedback (alas, she will see the truth soon :P), copies my trademark Feedback related catch phrases: "Kick some royal arse" and "Do give us you feedback".

2)Sumeet Khullar, steals my very own philosophy of "peacing out" (from the Uncle Skunk fundaa), and uses my favourite peace-related dialogue: "Peace maaro yaar".

3)And yesterday, someone uses my very own, extra-special "sorry" phrase : "I'm so very sorry" ...

Life is not fair, but then, what can you do? Well, you just shrug your shoulders, and get on with it. Screw the copyrights, screw Uncle Skunk and screw peace.

For losers like me

Looking back, now I see
What a fool, I had been
Got to find myself some peace
And get me out of this misery

I was, in a way, too deep
Now I've straightened out my priorities
I'll be a man of simple needs
Just rent, groceries and ...
and ...
and ...
... gasoline [;)]

The Couches

They were perfect ... in form, in shape, and in texture. The feel ... it was all about the feel. They had a lovely, velvety purple surface; soft and smooth to touch, it was like running your finger through butter. They were brilliantly padded too. I had never given sofa paddings much of a thought, till I laid my backside (my backside is well padded too!), on these ones. Sitting on them was a revelation; that the craft of sofa padding was, indeed, an onerous one. Whoever had crafted these ones, was a master, a virtuoso, of his trade.

So there they were, the two couches, right there behind us, halfway in between Gagan's and my desks. Perfect, inviting, soothing, relaxing, tempting,and sinful ... they were right there, to send us into the blissful state of slumber, and ruin our work. Because the moment we used to hit our desks, we would take turns, and dive into the state of blissful sleep, on these amazing couches. We did it in a fairly democratic way though; we always took turns, and politely controlled our sleep, when the couches were in a state of occupation, with someone else's prostate figures. The main users of the couch were Sourabh, Varun, Mittal, Doc and I. Techniques and and methods of usage of the two couches, varied from person to person, with Sourabh, the smallest among us, joining the two of them together, and sprawling himself out on them, and me, the biggest of the lot, cramping myself into a foetal position, within the confines of a single sofa.

Our blissful and ignorant states of slumber on these couches, were often our undoing, as they led us into some very embarrassing, and utterly avoidable, circumstances. Once, Gagan's mentor had come to his desk, only to find the tortuous passage completely blocked by the couches, Gagan, and Mittal's prostate figure, on the couches. There was no way she could get through to Gagan's desk, without either leaping over the mess, like one of those characters from Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, or politely waking Mittal up, from his sleep. She naturally chose to refrain from using her superhuman powers, and settled for the latter, and easier, though more rude, option. The dumbfounded, sleepy, apologetic and embarrassed look on Mittal's face, when he was woken up by her, was priceless! Once I was all curled up in my foetal position of sleep , on one of the couches, for all of three long and wonderful hours, only to be informed by Doc, that, in that unfortunate period, my poor mentor had come around twice to meet me, but did not have the tenacity or guts to wake me up. I can only try to imagine, what she must have thought of me, as she saw my horribly twisted figure, curled into the soft and warming arms of that couch ...

The couches were a painful obstruction, to those who were using the narrow passage behind our desks. Getting through this zone of the couches, chairs, Gagan, me and our desks, was indeed a daunting task, requiring gravity defying gymnastics, and fantastic manouvers, to weave one's way through the harum-scarum. Oft, the two HR females, who sit on my right, would look at Gagan, me and the couches, with scorn, and pass remarks about what a big obstruction they were, and how something should be done to remove them from there. We guys, in our blissful and slumberous romance with the couches, paid no heed to these portentous comments of theirs.

Then one day, as we were sitting at our desks, the facilities people came over, and took the two couches away. We stared at them, dumbfounded and speechless. We were too deprived of our faculties of speech, to interject, and ask them as to why the couches were being taken away. And so there, helpless and dumbstruck, we watched our beloved couches being taken away. The HR females had satisfied and content smirks on their faces ...

The couches have now been relocated on the other side of the office building, near a widow, so that the sunlight, which streams in from the outside, makes it impossible for one to sleep on them. Moreover, whoever will take the pains of walking, all the 20 odd feet, over to where the couches are, to sleep? As I walk past them, whenever I go to get myself coffee from the decanter, I look upon them with a fond sense of sadness and longing. They are gone, but I will always have the fond memories ... or lack of them, rather (because I was always wholly immersed in sleep!).

Yes, I'll miss them. Heck! We all will miss them ... the amazing goshawesome couches ...

Cold

Cold, so cold
We are
So cold, so cold ...

Rock Stars

Last week, I happened to see the same type, at a pub, on Brigade Road; rock stars. The name of the pub was "On da Rox", if I remember correctly, a name, which upon seeing itself, I knew, would bring the same old shit back, again. Nevertheless, it had been quite some time, and so my friends and I decided to step in, and check it out.

The place brought back all-too familiar memories. It was gloomy and dark. A lot of gringos sitting around here and there. Plus a whole lot of uptown rich folk, lounging around, sipping on beer and cocktails. Fag smoke and suffocating fumes floating around everywhere. And there, in the corner, fagging away, were the rock stars. The same old, low cut jeans, hanging around the groin, oversmart-dialogue T-shirts, canvas shoes, the fag-reeking breath, the beer mugs ... the same old sickening crap. Oh! And I forgot the attitude! Loads of it. Every alternate word being the f word, the fake accents, the hi fives, the chicks, whom they treat like broads, and so on. Plus the hairstyles and goaties. It was all there. What wasn't there was the music, because when they came on stage, they revealed their true colours. I'm trying not to use the f word these days, but I just have to use it for these guys ... absolutely f-all processors and patches. The guitars sounded more like chainsaws grinding against wood. The vocals were horrible. The only saving grace were the drums, which were good. Overall, it was like listening to the sounds out of The Exorcist. It was disgusting; I had to leave the place in two minutes.

Why is there so much show? So much attitude? So much fagging and doping? So many f-words? Its crazy, and it doesn't make sense at all. In another couple of months, I come back to Delhi, and get back to a very similar rock circuit. The same old people, who think they are demi-gods, just because they can hold a guitar in their hands, and play a couple of chords; because they can twiddle the sticks in their hands, when they can't even hold them straight; because they listen to heavy metal, nu-age "shit", and deth and that's supposed to be cool. Guys my age ... kids, who have either lost their sense of priority, or whose parents have too much money to spend on them. Its sad and disgusting at the same time.

Get your priorities straight, my dear rock stars; you're just going to end up as losers, like the rest.

PS: Speaking of rock stars, Feedback is RSJ's current Indian-band in focus. Check out our interview:
http://www.rsjonline.com/TopStory.asp?News_Code=1013&Category_Code=1001
Enjoy!

By the grace of Kukulkaan!

Robin, had been driving me crazy, all morning, with these allusions to "the great god Kukulkaan". Now as we raced across the platform bridge at the station, my heart was in my mouth, and I was seriously hoping that we would not find poor Rumana, waiting there for us. As we ran, weaving through the sea of people, like a couple of C.I.A agents on a crowded ' D.C street, he turned back to me, in his flashy Ray-Bans and said, "Fear not o' little brother, for the great lord Kukulkaan is with us." By now I was furious, and had given up replying to these stupid Kukulkaan statements of his.

We reached the platform, racing, and out of breath. And like clockwork, just as we ran onto the platform, Rumana's train was pulling up, and I heaved a sigh of relief. She did not have to wait for us! Then Robin, again turned to me and said, "See? The might of the great lord Kukulkaan." Relieved and bemused, I laughed, and hollered back to him "You're crazy!"

Rumana stepped daintily out of the train carriage, looking pretty as ever, and fresh as a daisy. Robin, whooped with joy and lifted her up in a giant bear hug. I still panting, but relieved, and bemused by this whole Kukulkaan episode, chuckled to my self, "He is always, bang on time, and never lets her down. So this thing works, indeed! By the grace of the great god Kukulkaan!"

Gavin Harrison contd.

Just discovered this magical thing Gavin has done: listen to Porcupine Tree's song "Futile" from their album, with the same name. Check out the insane drum filling he starts from the 5:30 point of the song. It is "sick", or so to say, in Petrucci-forum lingo, and is going on a 15 beat pattern, complete with full on fast double bass triplets, china trashes, heavy cymbal work, and fast tom rolls. But thats not the magic! Now listen to the song "Way out of here" from their latest album, Fear of the Blank Planet (2007) . Carefully hear the drumming fill he does from the 4:47 point.

Magic isn't it? He, indeed, is a genius! I wonder how he does it. Two songs, two completely different timing patterns, two completely different tunes ... hats off, to my biggest inspiration. Fear of the Blank Planet is a brilliant album; well worth listening and trying to relate to.

Gavin Harrison

Gavin Harrison is not just a pro, but a pastmaster ; a wizard, and a master craftsman who weaves his grooves and brilliance around Porcupine Tree. His niche and style are simply unique and unreal ... as if, from a different plane altogether.

Completed!

"When the young Dawn with fingertips of rose
made heaven bright, the Trojan people massed
about Prince Hector's ritual fire.
All being gathered and assembled, first
they quenched the smoking pyre with tawny wine
where ever flames had licked their way, then friends
and brothers picked his white bones from the char
in sorrow, while the tears rolled down their cheeks.
In a golden urn they put the bones,
shrouding the urn with veiling of soft purple.
Then in a grave dug deep they placed it
and heaped it with great stones. The men were quick
to raise the death-mound, while in every quarter
look-outs were posted to ensure against
an Achaean surprise attack. When they had finished
raising the barrow, they returned to Illium,
where all sat down to banquet his honour
in the hall of Priam king.

So they performed
the funeral rite of Hector, tamer of horses."

And with this, I finish the Illiad ... it has been tough.

PS: Just got this wonderful sms from some random person (most prolly, it was one of you homies trying to play your immature, kid-tricks on me), claiming to be a girl, who wanted to get to know me:
"Always make your absence felt, in such a way that somebody misses you, but let not your absence be so long that somebody starts learning to live without you."

And now ...

Sorry I forgot to append ... and now I shall hit the sack, on those two goshawesome couches, right here, behind my desk!

A novel way to kill time

Hey people. Agreed, most of you all already know how vella and absolutely creative I am, when it comes to doing utterly unproductive things, but I just had to share this new discovery with you all. I discovered it last night, when I was listening to some music on my lappie. Doc was busy watching TV, and I was neither too inspired to read, nor too sleepy to sleep, so I just tried out this random thing, and to my delight, found that I enjoyed it quite a bit. It's quite a nifty way to kill time: What you have to do is listen to a song and try typing out the lyrics, while listening to it, as it progresses. Quite difficult to do, I accede, but nonetheless and very nice way to kill time, when you have absolutely nothing to do. A note of caution though, you have to be as mental AND vella enough as me, to be able to pull this off. For almost 99% of you, it will be a pain in the butt!!!
Right now, I'm at my desk, in office. The homies have, as expected found something better to do, which is playing pool (I really don't get the deal with indoor games?), and all I have here for company is Mr. Gagandeep Singh, who, in his customary style, is glued to the monitor with multiple Orkut and Gaim tabs open. I'm totally vella, so I figured, what better to do, than give you folks a live demo of my newly discovered pastime:
(The song I'm playing is my favourite MLTR number, called "Complicated Heart". Here we go ...)

Michael Learns to Rock - Complicated Heart

Don't know what to say now
I don't know where to stop
I don't know how to handle
A complicated heart
You tell me you are leaving
But I just have to say
Before you throw it all away

Even if you want to go alone
I will be waiting when you're coming home
If you need someone to ease the pain
You can lean on me
My love will still remain

Don't know what you're thinking
To me it seems quite tough
Tool of conversation
When words are not enough
So this is your decision
And there's nothing I can do
I can only say to you

Even if you want to go alone
I will be waiting when you're coming home
If you need someone to ease the pain
You can lean on me
My love will still remain

If this is your decision
And there is nothing I can do
I can only say to you

Even if you want to go alone
I will be waiting when you're coming home
If you need someone to ease the pain
You can lean on me
My love will still remain

Even if you want to go alone
I will still love you when tomorrow comes
When you need someone to ease the pain
You can lean on me
My love will still remain

Nailed it! Bang on! Didn't even have to replay the song at any stage; just went with the flow! Going at this rate, I shall reach Doc levels of typing speed and comprehension, in no time (God only forbid that I start talking like him too, lolz!) . But this song was easy to do, and I still have quite a long way to go, to improve my skills in this crazy department (I am yet to figure out why I am doing all this!) . For those of you who think you're up to it, I'll give you a challenge: do this with sliPknoT's "Spit it out", from their Iowa album. Or maybe MuDvAyNe's "Dig", from their L.D 50 album. You'll see stars!!!

PS: Today also marks a memorable day in my life, in that I got a successful bargain for the very first time. Normally I meekly agree to the shopkeeper's rates, like a sucker, but today, I was on a roll! Got myself a pair of Vic Firth 5As for just 450/- (starting quote 600/-) where you normally get them in Onstage Dehli for 650/-, flat rate !!! Call that a deal or what?!

Quotable quotes from last semster.

Here are some memorable quotes from last semester. A little about the last semester (6th semester of college) ... it was,in many ways, the MOST defining period of time, for all our lives. Most of us have sobered down, come of age and realized our true selves, the last semester. Boys became men. Here's how!
[CAUTION: If you are a girl, then PLEASE don't read this; I humbly beg of you ... please don't read this ... this is just between us guys ... please, please ... the language and thoughts here are pretty fouled up.]

Attachee: "You are a gem of a c******."
(To Talwar, when he claimed to be such a gem of a person.)

Attachee: "Kher ... everything pales in comparison to him!"
(To me, when he and Talwar were discussing what big c******s they were, and suddenly realized that I was in their midst.)

Moti: "Khol, b**** k* l***."
(To Attachee, when Attachee offered to give him a lift in his car, but then had to delay opening the door, because he had an incoming phone call.)

Talwar: "Kar le ..."
(To Attachee, when he asked Attachee whether he used to go to the gym, and Attachee, his ego slightly inflated, at the self-inferred [and absolutely incorrect] assumption that Talwar was admiring his physique, replied in the negative.)

Khullar:"Yahan par kitne bade, frustu losers hongey."
(Upon opening the "I'm single and loving it!" community on Orkut, which Attachee was a member of.)

Doc: "Join."
(Hypothesizing, Khullar's next move, following the previous quote.)

Me: "Tu stud hai, c******!"
(To Attachee, when he proclaimed himself to be the world's biggest c******, and I was trying to raise his spirits.)

Attachee: "Oh haan! Matlab, Shashwat totally talli ho kar, waiter banne ki fite maar raha tha!"
(To Khullar, Talwar and me, when we were discussing one of Moti's drunken exploits, and Attachee joined us halfway through the conversation, and made his own interpretation of what we were talking about, without having even the slightest iota of knowledge as to what we were actually talking about.)

Attachee: "Babes? Or the lack, thereof?"
(To Talwar, when Talwar wanted to talk about his experiences with "babes".)

Me: "Mein duniya ka sabse bada c****** hoon."
Talwar: "Mujhe to pata hai, ki mein world ka sabse bada stud hoon."
Attachee: "Aur mujhe pata hai, ki tum dono world ke sabse bade c****** ho."
(One of our usual conversations at nescafe.)

Sanjam: "Tujhe pata hai? Suar ka orgasm ek ghante ke liye hota hai!"
(When someone called him a pig.)

Moti: "Kash meri bandi single hoti."
(Moti, on his "bandi".)

Gagan: "Mujhe samajh mein nahin aaya. Meri bandi hogi, to woh single hi hogi."
(Upon reading the previous quote.)

I hope this gives you a fair idea, of the amazing intellectual level we operate at! Please excuse the foul language; it is an inevitable part of the IIT lingo.

Remember ...

"A man's got to be understanding, and put his wife before himself."
-Aunt May, from Spiderman 3.

I'll remember this ...

Uncle Skunk!

Uncle Skunk came to me, last night, in my dreams. I had been a wreck till then: tired, sleep-deprived, sad, depressed, out-of-luck, gloomy, philosophical, regretful and what not! I had almost reached breaking point. But then, he came along, in my dreams, while I was sleeping a troubled sleep, and he told me, in his usual, casual, relaxed panache, "Peace out my friend! Live your life happy and without regrets. Just be grateful for what you already have , and just wait and hope for the best in the future." And with that, he vanished!

I woke up from my sleep and went to the bathroom to splash my face with water. After that, I sat down and dwelled upon what he had said. And then bingo! It became all so clear to me. Uncle Skunk had been so damned right! I wiped the slate clean, washed off the muck and FINALLY got a peaceful night's sleep, after such a long time.

Thank you Uncle Skunk! I owe you big time; I've made my peace ...

To Sir, with love.

Hi Sir,
You don't know me, and I don't think you'll remember me, even when you see me. I was just one of those anonymous faces you see in your lectures everyday, and I really don't mind being that. I had just asked for your forgiveness, for an incident so trivial and irrelevant, that I doubted that you would remember to penalize me, in the first place. But you did. Very small and petty of you. It would have cost you nothing, to have just cleaned the slate, and removed the penalty. But no. You had to penalize me. I agree, it was my fault in the first place; I shouldn't have been doing what I had done, but its not like I didn't repent what I did. I tried to make up for it, and in the end asked for you to just simply forgive me. What would it have cost you?
And do you know what it has done to me? It has cost me a grade. No, I'm not going to bitch about grades or anything like that. But I had a plan, a dream ... I had worked it out meticulously, and all I needed for my whole life to shape out the way I had planned, was for you to just for you to just forgive me and give me that grade. Now, I'm more or less sunk. Its not like I'll not get a job or something like that, but now I guess I can bid BCG and McKenzie a bittersweet goodbye.
And no Sir, I'm not mad or bitter at you. I just pity that things are the way they are. And you know what? I have now found something, which means MUCH more to me than BCG or McKenzie or grades or anything in this world. So Sir, this is just to let you know, that I forgave you for what you've done, the day you did it, itself. No bad blood left, only pity. I pity you and your kind and I'm sad it has to be the way it is. I wish things could have been better for you.

Sincerest regards,
Shamir.
Entry No: 2004CS101087

What a mess!

JUST turned the WHOLE goddamn house upside down, to look for the two recovery DVDs for my lappie ... WHAT a wondrous mess I've made, I just can't describe it ... DAMN! CAN'T wait for mom to get back, her hysterics are gonna be KILLER!

*evil laugh mwuhahahahaha ...

PS: Now playing: Guthrie Govan - Ner ner

End of chapter

Never do the wrong thing ... it will not work ... it will kill your soul and screw up your peace of mind ... at least, if you are a person of some morals and ethics. NEVER freeload on anyone, and NEVER take anyone for granted; take it from the horse's mouth. And with this, I end this brief chapter and rather torturous chapter of my life; I thought that, like some other folks, I could do it and get away with it. You can get away with it all right, but then losing friends, having a heavy conciense and not getting any sleep from it, is just not worth it.

... NEVER again. Forgive me my friend.

Third semester memories ...

Just stumbled across this (relatively) true story I wrote in my third semester of college. Ah! The good ol' days, when I was a fool, blissfully frittering my time away in the hostel, totally oblivious to the bigger issues in life. I really enjoyed those days, and look back upon them with fondness, though I now regret having been such a wastrel then. What I've written makes for VERY interesting reading, and even I found myself chuckling at certain parts of it. Here it is:


It had all started the previous night. Had I looked up and seen the gloomy grey skies above me, metaphorically speaking that is, I would have at least skipped all the lectures the next day to postpone the impending doom (or plethora of dooms, should I say?) to some other (maybe more sunny) day. But the previous night I had been under the irresistible spell of AOE. And when you are under the irresistible spell of AOE, not even the mightiest tempest nor the most thunderous earthquake can root you from the hotseat in front of the computer (all you AOE players will understand me, and those who don't, had better try out AOE, to get what I mean). And when you are blissfully immersed in building and defending your empire against your competitors
(in AOE I mean!) , all the forthcoming disasters of the world seem to be very very far off and absurd.Even if Satan himself were screaming in your ears, that the sword of Damocles was hanging above your head, you wouldn't acknowledge it until, maybe, one of those pikemen very politely pointed it out to you.And so there I was, battling it out, with my pals Moti and Doc, for supremacy, in a random land map (as I said you'd better be brushing up your AOE knowledge!) completely oblivious to the disasters waiting to happen the next day.


A very normal AOE multiplayer game in an IIT hostel lasts at least two hours (if the players are good enough, and not intending to boast, I'm pretty okay too!) , and a very normal time for it to start is at around one o'clock in the morning.This AOE game so happened to be a very normal AOE game.So it was almost dawn when I went to sleep, blissfully dreaming of pikemen and
Persian war elephants ...


... I woke up at nine thirty the next morning, sorry, the same morning, when Doc nearly broke my room's door down, banging and kicking it, hollering for me to wake up and take the bad news from the horse's mouth please?


Before I proceed with my narrative on the first piece of bad news, destined to reach my ears, I would like to mention one very important ability of Doc's: his (seemingly impossible!) ability to spend the whole night up, awake, and then attend all the lectures, even the torturous A and C slot ones at eight, the next, sorry (again, I forget!) the same morning! Well even if he doesn't spend the ENTIRE night awake, he doesn't sleep for more than a token two to three hours as opposed to the regular eight advised by the doctor. There have been certain mornings when I have happened to attend the morning lectures, and very rare though they may be, they have given me the opportunity to see him attend these lectures. If the lecture is at eight, he will get up at seven thirty in the morning. Since he has slept only a few hours, his sleep deprived body has virtually been raped to the core and he gropes around the place sleepily, like my friend Dhakkan very aptly describes, a "zombie". He seems to be dazed and confused and all his actions seems to be very mechanical. He'll sleepily brush up and sleepily get into his clothes, and then proceed for the lecture. No bath, no toilet, no shave, no nothing ... Its as though some chip has been implanted in his brain giving him one and only one instruction: "must attend class,must attend class,must attend ... "!


Now don't let this soldier like dedication impress you! Because there is only one thing that Doc does in the lectures ... sleep! Yes, he attends lectures to sleep. You show me one lecture where he is not sleeping, and I'll eat my hat! Oh, yes, he also attends lectures to mark our "proxies".


By mid morning however, Doc manages to recover from his dazed and sleepy stupor. That's when you should see him in action: the quality of spontaneous jokes and sarcastic remarks, that he comes out with, are really remarkable, and worth listening to. This of course is accompanied by the usual paroxysms of rage emanating from the unfortunate victim of his ridicule,which is usually Moti or Dhakkan. Well I guess I'm straying from the topic ...


The aforementioned "proxies" lead me to the first of the disasters that happened that day. As I said, I was rudely awakened by Doc, with this horrible news. He had, as usual like a zombie, attended the eight o'clock lecture, marked our proxies and then, in his customary style, gone off to sleep. But it so happened that the prof. had finished evaluating our minor papers and distributed them at the end of the class. He then chose this, of all the godforsaken days, to pull out the usual trump card trick that professors have, to catch proxies: he tallied the students who collected the papers with the attendance sheet, and so caught all the proxies. Now this Prof was one tough, mean character to deal with, and he promised all of us, proxiers, an attendance "F" and boy, when he said attendance "F", he really MEANT an attendance "F", no arguments , no excuses! So there I was, I had slept through the first "F" grade of my degree! Please take note of the fact that I have carefully sidelined the issue of how I had done in that minor. Well, it only adds to the agony...


As this shocking news was sinking into me, I got about getting ready to attend the next lecture (it's really amazing how guilt psychology works: this shocking information, had pricked me enough to attend the next lecture, one in which I was yet to see the professor's face!). A small consolation was the fact that Moti was in the same boat as me (having shattered my peaceful morning sleep, Doc had now proceeded to shatter Moti's too with the news of the proxy incident!). To add to my frustrations, there was no water in the bathrooms. That's one disadvantage of staying one floor below the freshers, because the freshers, in all their earnestness to attend classes, have their baths and wash their clothes early in the morning (the whole lot of them) so that by the time we "early birds" get up, there's no water left in the overhead tanks. So I had to attend the next lecture without having a bath. I couldn't even wash my face or brush my teeth, for crying out loud! And believe me, you can't feel more sick with yourself when you have to attend a mid-morning lecture on a hot summer's day, without so much as even washing your face, and with the thought that you've have failed a course, hanging heavy on your head!


But there was more to come ...


The prof of this next lecture had also finished correcting the minor papers. Boy! When these minor results are out, they all seem to attack you at once, as though there is some conspiracy
to give you all the bad news (the marks I mean) in one fell swoop. Now before that minor, I had had a bet with my chum Nanga that I would fare better than him in this subject. Now, Nanga and I are constantly at loggerheads, as to who is the dumber of the two of us: him of me? I am still of the opinion that Nanga doesn't even deserve to be in an IIT! Unfortunately, Nanga fared better than me in this minor. Just how this happened don't ask me but now, I owed him fifty of the best bucks from my pocket.To add to my misery, I had scored a measly two out of thirty in this minor, severely eroding the foundations of my confidence, in my ability to get through minors without studying. The look that the prof had cast at me, when handing out my answer sheet, had been one of murder ...


After having finished my lunch (Man! It was one slow, long and mean lunch, what with all the "great news" I had received thus far!) I suddenly remembered, with a sinking feeling, that today was a Monday. And on Mondays I had my lab in the afternoon. And I had not completed my practical record ... Not started it ... Not even given it a thought! I hadn't even bought the goddamned file! I rushed to the nearest stationary shop and bought myself a file. I returned to my room , grabbed my pal, Atthi's lab rec, and hurriedly copied his experiment. Every word of it was copied straight off. No changes, just a pure, unadulterated carbon copy of whatever he had written.


Well, now it's easy for you to guess what happened next. Yes, the prof. very diligently corrected the prac files, and caught me for copying the experiment, word for word, from Atthi's file. Two grades down for me in that course, straight off!No arguments, no explanations, no nothing (I don't know, but I seem to have used this expression somewhere else too?!).


That lab was a torturous one! We had to design an electrical circuit which was supposed to do ... I don't know what! The fool that I was, I had chosen Nayyar (a much less responsible person than me, which is not saying much!) , as my lab partner. Nayyar was an expert at getting through this lab. All he had to do was come one hour late, tell the prof that he was not feeling well, and leave immediately, leaving me with the dog's work of cutting and fitting wires onto the circuit (You see, unlike Nayyar I am a goofbag when it comes to making excuses to sham work! It always ends up messily with me). And believe me, four hours of cutting and fitting wires onto a breadboard really saps you. It kills your senses, saturates your brain, and turns you into a zapped corpse; your hands don't move, your brain doesn't function, your lungs don't breathe and you really begin to wonder if everything is real or not. And to top it all, after all the hard work that you've put in ... the circuit invariably doesn't work! When THAT happens, you just feel like jumping out of the window of the lab (which is on the third floor, by the way!).


That evening, dejected, traumatised, scarred, bruised, frustrated, and what not, I returned to my room. I started playing the song which seemed to have summed up my feelings at that point of time : "People=shit" by Slipknot, on full volume. And then ... I saw Doc, Moti, Dhakkan, Rav and the gang returning from class with their own woes. And then I thought of my pals, my lovely hostel, the lovely campus around me, our lovely MS and departmental blocks and the state of the art facilities I was getting here. Did I deserve to be here? And then there was only one thing that came to my mind after that:

MAN, AM I LUCKY TO BE IN IITD DELHI OR WHAT????!!!!

Not bad for a third semester nicomcoop to be writing this, aye? I hope you people enjoyed it? I dunno, I certainly loved reliving the old days, reading this article. Note though, this story provides a unique insight into the mind and mental process of a typical, decent performing IITD student ... always bitching about grades, living the wasteful hostel life of AOE and nightouts, being very close to a tight circle of friends, using stupid sounding nicknames ... lol! Ah! What a fool I was back then ...

... time flies and people change!

DDAY \m/

\m/ ... Today was DDay ... \m/
Now I think I can eat and sleep in peace.

White flag!

Today,
as I walked home,
and beheld the sight of the beautiful sun just peeking at me from behind
a beautiful grey cloud,
I looked up,
heaved a sigh,
and decided to get over it,
and call it quits.

She left me,
if anything,
with confusion.

Dunno man, all the signs seemed to be there?!
And so foolishly I decided to take the first step,
but like I said,
she confuses me.
Sometimes hot, sometimes mind numbing cold.

Maybe I was as good as I thought I was, but only she was far better
and beyond reach,
or I am the friggin' loser that I am now suspecting myself of being,
and she is still way beyond my league.
Whatever it is, she remains a goddess,
and I thank her making Daniel Adair my idol.

Anyways, like I said
I'll stop now,
and get over it.

Just one regret though ...
I wish I could have her
lovely
manicured
amazingly maintained
sexxxy feet all to myself (:p)
Oh man! Those feet ... I worship them.

Ah! Well, gotta get back to reality.
I'm over it now!

BACK TO THE FRIGGIN' OS ASSIGNMENT ... DOC WHERE ARE YOU????

PS:I'm listening to Mr. Big's "Nothing but Love" from their "Bump Ahead" album ...
Getting back to what I used to listen to, way back in junior school:
Mr.Big, CSNY, Jethro Tull, Fleetwood Mac, America and so much more!

Disclosure

This heaviness of heart has really worn me out. It has become too much to bare, and I seem to
have become completely numb, with it. It is constantly there in the background, hurting me,
where it hurts the most. And I can't seem to do anything about it. Meeting friends and
acquaintances, off and on, helps me to temporarily forget it, and alleviates the pain momentarily.
But even with them I seem to be almost mechanical; wooden even. I smile the smiles, laugh the laughs, make the moves, but deep down inside I can feel the heaviness ... the sickness. What has happened to me?

I used to be happy once; I was quite enjoying what I was doing. Now my life seems empty and
directionless ... all because of this heaviness. Worse still, it is affecting me physically.
I don't get sleep at night; I feel sick looking at food. I am becoming sick and emaciated both
physically and mentally. The stress only adds to the pain: no sleep and no food makes me feel weak, and then, on top of that there is this dull heaviness ... looming over me ... like a black thundercloud ready to burst open.

Why can't the butcher rip this feeble heart open with the knife, once and finally, instead of torturing me with these pricks from rose thorns?

??!!

She loves me ... she loves me not?

A song for all seasons

The name "Glasgow Kiss", when I first heard it, struck me as a song archetypal of Scottish romanticism and mystery, and indeed, it did not fail me, when I heard the song for the first time. I fell in love with the song right then and there! John Petrucci (of the Dream Theater fame) is a master if the guitar, but little does it become so very clear when you listen to this number. The song is masterful in every sense of the word, and IMO conveys the entire gamut of emotions a human can ever have; love, romance, mystery, suspense, mellow, tragedy, repentance, recovery, resurrection are just some of the few terms that come to my mind when I listen to this song, which truly makes it a song for all seasons. Just listen to this song: Petrucci's versatility and mastery of his instrument becomes so very obvious. Whether it is his fantastic tones, speed-of-light picking or just his mind boggling sense of melody and phrasing, all are present in enough quantities to satiate your soul, well enmeshed with a rather spiriting Scottish tune. Mike Portnoy also does a splendid job of giving a really catchy, yet powerful groove to the song well complemented by Dave LaRue's bass lines.
And I can swear by the song. It has seen me through some of my most trying times and I have always come out of listening to it, with a positive frame of mind, whatever the circumstances. So please do yourselves a favour and listen to "Glasgow Kiss" from John Petrucci's solo album "Suspended Animation" ... a song for all seasons.

PS:Another song for all seasons is "Waves" from Guthrie Govan's solo album "Erotic Cakes" ... this guy is bloody insane!

Read this!

This was a KILLAH! Part of The Hindu ED:
"Much of Europe is arguing over a Washington proposal to plant in Poland fewer than a dozen anti-missile missiles that might not work, to guard against an Iranian threat that might not exist."

-Craig S.Smith

The Daniel Adair trick

This blog is drumming related, but no fear all my non drum-bum chums, its easy reading ... so go ahead and read it, but heck, if you're not interested, who has the friggin' time to read a stupid blog anyways??!!

I discovered the secret to the Daniel Adair trick today! A major breakthrough for the propagation of my progeny and a truly hallmark event in the pathetic life of mankind, I would say!

For those of you who don't know who Daniel Adair is, he is the new drumming force behind Nickelback, besides also playing for Mississippi alternative rockers, 3 Doors Down, and progressive past master, Dave Martone. I caught a glimpse of the Daniel Adair trick for the first time in the video of Nickelback's super hit single "Photograph", from their "All the right reasons" album. What happens is, in the snare drum roll, just before the chorus, he kinda makes his right stick do a, seemingly effortless, 360 degree turn, before hitting the crashes. Now a lot of drummers have their own trademark and imagination-balking stick tricks, so you'd be wondering why my particular interest in Daniel Adair? Well you could blame it on HER. SHE listens to 3 Doors Down, and since I had never heard the band before, I downloaded a couple of Daniel's drum solo videos with the band, to check out what kind of stuff they play, and saw, to my utter consternation, him doing the same trick. This naturally aroused my curiosity, as to how he did it, and so a couple of VLC replays (at one-eighth speed!) later, I managed to discover the secret behind the Daniel Adair trick. Here is it ladies and gentlemen:
Just as you are raising your right arm to hit the crashes, completely slacken your grip on your stick. As a result the stick starts falling down, the head facing downwards with the other end touching your palm. When the stick is near about vertically downward facing, with the head pointing downwards, and the other end still just brushing your palm, give it a twiddling, but firm, thrust towards the left with your pinkey and ring finger, so that it now changes direction of rotation and starts rotating towards the left in a clockwise manner. Now, when it reaches its peak of the rotation, i.e, the head pointing vertically up and the other end, again, just brushing your palm, snap your grip back onto the stick and get it back into position just in time to play the crashes!
Viola!!! The Daniel Adair stick trick ... so delightful to see, so incredibly simple to understand and so damn difficult to do!
Thank you! Thank you! You are too kind! Gracias! Gracias!

Daniel Adair is one of the finest drummers I've ever seen. He's also one of the few drummers to be blessed with killer looks, which is why millions of chicks, across the world, are mad about him. He is also a very honest, sincere, humble and down to earth person. I'll leave you with a brilliant saying of his: "The harder you work, the luckier you get!".

Nice guys finish last

With due regards to Stanley Ibkiz from the Mask!

Hi! My name is Shamir and I'm a nice guy. Well at least that's what I think I am ... a nice guy. I lead a normal life; I have never been bad to anyone; I make the occasional mistake, but "to err is human", and so, much as though I may be chagrined to committing a mistake, you could forgive me for making them, because I am but human. I have made a lot of mistakes in the past, but have learned from them, and am working on making sure they never occur again. In my opinion my life is at somewhat of a crossroads ... I think I am undergoing a personal renaissance, of sorts.
As a kid, I used to be a tremendous nature enthusiast; I used to rescue so many animal and bird babies from their untimely deaths (if you want to know, and you have time, I will show you their pictures and tell you their stories sometime!) ... I LOVE dogs, and can't remember any point of my life where I didn't have dogs. As a kid, I used to go on nature exploring expeditions with Dad; I've even crafted a raft out of bamboo shoot, with my brother Robin, and set afloat on it, undauntedly! I have traveled all parts of the country and have had an invigorating mix of exposures to many cultures. I have been brought up as a defence kid, and as such have a sense of military pride, respect for our nation's heroic soldiers, hatred for the corrupt politicians that send them to war, and above all, the privilege of being brought up in a very cosmopolitan environment. I used to read a lot too, as a kid ... lots of stuff: Richmal Crompton, Wodehouse and Williard Price were among my favourite authors. I was an incredibly gifted artist; I have won national level painting competitions, but my forte still remains sketching. I could draw a remarkably accurate sketch of anything, with just a couple of strokes and no eraser. I have been a damn good student all my life, not just academically, but in other aspects too ... like punctuality, tidiness, regularity, extracurriculars. I used to be a very good singer: I once set the girls of junior school hysterical (of sorts!) , with my rendition of the Scorpions' "Holiday" ... an all time favourite classic single of mine. I have always loved my parents and family beyond compare ... and always will.
Somewhere down the line, I lost it all ... I became this useless, good-for-nothing wreck ... meandering about aimlessly like a misguided maverick. But suddenly then, it all came back ... in a flash! The inspiration, the drive, the earnestness ... it all just came back to me all of a sudden. I am getting back to what I used to be. I am going back to my past and rediscovering what I had lost. Right now, right here ... I stand ... in front of you. If you know me, then you know who I am ... I am not a showoff. I'm not gonna make you see what I am, I expect you to see me in my true form. I am not a showoff. No way ... no! In fact show-off is far from what I am. I am now an introvert; a bit of a recluse, if you should say so; I bring nothing to the table, nothing. I have my friends and they know who and what I am. I love all of them for who they are, and respect them. I used to have prejudices against some, but now I have none ... I have only love and respect for them in my heart ... all of them. I think I have now become a good person ... if only you know me, you'll get to know that I am a nice guy after all.
Well so here I am, Shamir; and here I stand, feeling lost as a sheep without its shepperd ... a buoy afloat in turbulent ocean ... I am dazed by turmoil around me ... I see chances missed and my pleas for help ignored ... and when I see it, I do not have any regret, or anger in my heart ... just a wee bit of sadness; sadness that no one will come and pull me out of this whirlpool, whose vortex I am spiralling towards. There were I couple of times when I thought there was someone, but alas I guess not! So it is with sadness and a bit of heaviness of heart, that I stand here and appeal to you ... if you are nice person, then please don't go just by face value, and help me out. Cause if you do that, then you'll be one of the few who will realise that I'm just a nice guy ...
... and nice guys end up last.