Gifted.

Aesthetics only.

Eons ago, there was quote I read in a newspaper article that remained etched in my memory.
It went something like this..

"Sometimes there would be a rush of noisy visitors and the silence of the monastery would be shattered. This would upset the disciples; not the Master, who seemed just as content with the noise as with the silence. To his protesting disciples he said one day, "Silence is not the absence of sound, but the absence of self".

Something similar ran through my mind last Friday while I was waiting for my train back to Bangalore, from Chennai. Surprisingly, I reached the station rather early and quickly to my dismay it started raining. Running for cover I quickly scanned the train listings and walked towards the designated platform. It was the usual huge crowd, noise and the smell of fish. I looked at my watch and realised that I was one and a half hour early! "Lord have mercy on my legs" was my first thought.

I walked along the platform, to get some coffee and while I was at it, I noticed this group of ten or twelve folks, probably in their mid 40s. There were folks from all walks of life and from different parts of India. They all seemed well to-do and everyone had a glowing smile on their face. They seemed of the chirpy,  happy-go-lucky sort, having a great and the most animated conversation ever. They were all a group of mute folk and one of them  was gifted with something better than sight. (I hate the term 'mute', but for the lack of a better word, kindly bear with me.). I walked a little for a closer look to see Sign language in practise, and immediately I was blown away and stood dumbfounded in awe.
Watching hands effortlessly working in an artistic precision, and faces expressing the emotions like never before, was like looking at magic woven by the Human spirit, in action.

I couldn't understand a bit of their conversation, all I could read was their emotions. I saw joy, shock, gossip, horsing around, and playful joking. The whole aura around that group was captivating, with ZERO sound, yet with a flowing conversation. I directed my focus towards the tall, mute and visually challenged (again...sorry!) person. He was a significant part of the conversation too! Whenever someone had to speak to him, they'd grab his hands and make signs, which he could effortlessly interpret and reply to, using the same means. Whats more, he could hold a conversation with two people, simultaneously! How many of us "Gifted" people can do that? I sure as hell can't.
One might think that's where the amazement ended, and couldn't be more wrong. Another thing that really got my mind blown with awe was when the folks could seamlessly join a private conversation going on between a few people. They seemed to instantly know what the others were talking about with their signs, and joined their conversation, as if they were there all along! Again, how many of us "Gifted" lot can do that ? We'd make a fool of ourselves, asking stupid questions about what people were talking about.

I spent a good hour just looking at them, till I noticed a lady, from the group looking at me with inquisitive eyes, probably asking.."What are you looking at, Mister?!". By then a small discreet crowd had gathered around them, all held in awe. I walked a little back, so as to not seem rude to the group, and casually strolled  around coming back, time to time just to feel what a conversation without the presence of sound, felt like.
To be honest, I felt a tad privileged and humbled, to be a witness to this sight. To see how flexible and generous Life can be, to give one the option to walk around a mountain, if one can't climb it, and with..

ABSOLUTELY NO SOUND!!!!!!!

Breathe Easy. \/
-Askios

High Tides: Ethereal

The real ethereal..

Presence of a ghost.

A silent host..

A chill wind blown down a soul.

A spectral presence,

down the funeral home.

Surreal wish, but of nothing, mere ethereal.

A sweet dagger thrusted inside,

the gentle hands of a seductress, heavenly reside

A wish of lust and yet nothing, 

but of mere ethereal....

Figures of absence,
and the strength of steel.
First, wisps of real,
then sullen ethereal.
Heathen presence of the pasts conceal,
a morsel of truth,  the rest ethereal.

Into the light, I humbly stand,
with a bow of the head, a wish in my hand.
A wish, to once and forever reveal..
Truth is throughout unreal,
all is but One....Ethereal.

-Askios

P.S.: Very fond of that word 'ethereal'. Again, dunno when I wrote this. Got high, that word came to mind and everything else was .....ETHEREAL.

High Tides: Trip through a mirchi

('Mirchi' is the hindi word for 'Chillies/Pepper'.)

A trip through a mirchi,

a bite she does,

an invisible buzz.

Secretly,

a trip through a mirchi.

A pain in bliss,

a vengeful hiss.

A sweet and sour cut,

she burns my effigy.

A high moon tide,

an infernal ride,
her spectral synergy,

a trip through a mirchi.

A devilrous curse,

a poisoned hearse,

ancient poetic verse,

a psalmic energy,

my trip through a mirchi.

Soul searing lava,

my life through java.

Requisite Fire,

that abridged much higher,

you stroll my syllable 'E'

my trip through a mirchi.

As you now fade,

to an immense serenade,

I bind my devilry,

it's a trip through a mirchi,

a fine trip through a mirchi.

A poisonous form,

in the physical form of a mercurial banshee,

of a diligent scythe,

an ominous  vibe,

eternal riff yet a subliminal rife,

a trip through a mirchi.

-Askios

P.S.:Dunno when I wrote this. I was high and decided to chow down on a chilly/pepper and that somehow amplified the trip..thus the name.

Yaaaay!

EpicRotis is more than a year old! Woohoo! Never thought it'd last this long! Thanks to each and every one of the 3130 viewers! THE EBB AND FLOW CONTINUES!!!!!

P.S: As some of you may have noticed, I'm not very good at maintaining 'series' of topics, like how the "How to: xx" series ended up. BUT BUT BUTT....I'm anyway gonna start a new series called "High tides", which is a collection of random words I managed to string together when I was outttt. Hope, at the least, you folks don't find it to be a waste of your time, because although some part of it is below par and embarrassing, those are words that my brain could string together when it was not exactly in control of itself, and I'd like to put that across nonetheless.

CHEERS!

Lights!!!!!

Happy DIWALI folks!!!!!!!

Beyond the bounds of adjectives.

One of the two languages from which almost every other language was born, and with its origins dating before 1500 BCE the only ancient language that is alive and spoken in today's time.

If you haven't had your experience with Sanskrit, you haven't truly found your roots and haven't been exposed to the pinnacle of ecstasy that any sound could possibly deliver to your ears. To be honest, I find this post extremely hard to write because, I feel like I've been tied to a leash of words that can't possibly begin to explain the magnitude of greatness this Language has. It's incomparable, infinite and beyond perception.

 Now, just to clarify, I'm no Sanskrit scholar. I just barely manage to understand a few words of  the language itself. Having said that I must also state the fact that, being a relatively traditional Hindu, I have always been surrounded by Sanskrit, be it my morning-just before rushing to office- half  baked prayers, music or the remnants of my memory of a - less than basic Sanskrit education in my early years of schooling.

But that's the point! Even to an ignorant person, the beauty of Sanskrit is clearly visible.

Sanskrit to me, is the thread that weaves the fabric of the whole universe. It's immensely powerful. For example, the correct pronunciation of a single sound "ॐ" or AUM, can invoke Universal peace inside your mind. Not only that, ॐ is described in ancient scriptures as the First Sound, from which all Reality emerged. No other language could ever have such power, and it doesn't stop there. To start describing the depth and essence of Aum accurately, is way past my intellect so I will not harbor any pretensions. But what I can do is give you a similar example. Take the picture above for instance..(pronounced 'tat-tvam-asi') it means
 "the Self- in its original, pure, primordial state - is wholly or partially identifiable or identical with the Ultimate reality that is the basis and origin of all phenomena."
The faintest resemblance to the meaning conveyed by that one word in Sanskrit is that quote by William Blake that goes like:

"If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is, Infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thro' narrow chinks of his cavern."

 Now, let me ask you this..could the above sentence be reduced to ONE word, that would still retain the essence? I'd sure love to see that.

To make myself absolutely clear, I'm not waging a crusade against other lingua franca. Each has a value of its own, and is unique in its own particular way. But when it comes down to the bare bones of truth, there is only one absolute, Sanskrit.

I've run out of  whatever mockery of creative juice I had, to continue this post. As I said before I feel like I've been tied to a very short leash of  words to describe this exalted Language. Hence, I'm just going to embrace..

शांति. \/

-Askios

I relinquish. My eyes are my enemy.

Prologue

" I was taking notes at a fantastic rock-n-roll concert going on in my head "

- Morrison

(telling his future band mate that he had been writing songs) 

Six to seven years ago, I asked the most important and revered person of my life an out of the blue question. I asked him, why Gods were always depicted with half open eyes.

He smiled an omniscient smile and said that it was a very good question, but didn't answer. That question remained etched in my mind and a few years later I asked him the same question again. He asked me to sit in front of him and to listen carefully. He said, that when Gods meditate, they keep their mind impervious to all distractions and for this reason they choose to keep their eyes half closed. I asked the next obvious question that, what stopped them from closing their eyes completely, to which he smiled again and jokingly asked, "what if  they fell asleep?", but soon with a serious tone said that the reason why they left their eyes half open was that the Gods need to keep a keen vigil upon the universe and they don't risk taking their eyes off it. It all instantaneously made sense to me and every moment of that conversation got etched in my mind.

Circa: yesterday-2012

The day began in a familiar manner, with me suppressing my incomplete sleep due to the midnight travel from Bangalore to Chennai, to get ready for office at 9 a.m. and subsequently returned a little tired, but happy nonetheless at 8p.m. My new room mate came in shortly after and told that his birthday had just passed by last week and that there was a major party in our flat, fueled by beer and joints, and that I missed out a lot as I was out of station. Curious about the 'joints' part, I wished him a belated birthday and inquired how he managed to get them and not to my surprise, he said that one of our flatmates had access.

The faintest trace of an age old wish resurfaced in my mind. The wish to try out Marijuana and see what all the fuss was about. I was absolutely sure of myself that I could just stave off my high in a blink, because I had an impermeable control of my head, and I wanted to test my will. So, off I went to cajole my flat mate, whom I had never spoken to, along with my roomie to let me in on his stash. The guy agreed and made me, what my roommate called, a 'small joint'. I was impressed by the guy's skill, the joint had the aesthetics of a piece of art. He passed the final 'piece' along with a lighter. My roomie asked me to light it and I didn't give the occasion too much hype, but I was very visibly a complete noob, at lighting it. The guy noticed my struggle, even though I faked the panache of taking the joint to my lips, and to my displeasure he sympathetically said "You've never lit a cigarette, have you?". I wanted to protest at his false allegation, but chose to keep mum and proceeded to light the joint with the lighter, but much to my pleasure the other person sitting there suggested that I light it in the balcony as it'd get very smoky inside.

After getting aid in lighting the joint, I keenly took a few puffs, and coughed loudly soon after. My roomie said that I was doing it wrong. I dropped all my pretensions and openly asked my roomie, about how I was supposed to 'take' the joint. He said that once I took the smoke in, I needed to take a short breath through my mouth, while making the "ssssss" sound. I tried it his was and SUDDENLY THERE WAS A BIG EXPLOSION IN MY HEAD. I voluntarily stopped thinking. Another drag. "Sssss". Peace. Silence. ANOTHER EXPLOSION IN MY HEAD. I, still cynical, told myself "huh! That's nice. Heh, nothing I can't shrug off.". The flat mate took the piece and took a drag himself. I felt kinda grossed out at the lack of hygiene," Wtf! I didn't know this had to be shared!". But I gave in with a 'whatever' shrug. After a couple of drags, shares and EXPLOSIONS, I realized that I was laughing. The flatmate noticed and looked at my roommate, with a 'haha! it has started' smile. My confidence still strong, I declared.."I'm normal........haha. *Pffbbth* ". With the joint done I walked back to my room with my eyes droopier than usual. I sat up an tried watching the Tv, but I noticed that there was a giant tunnel inside me, from my lungs to my brain with an opening at my mouth. I felt I was under a giant thumb, getting pummeled into the bed. I was looking at myself in first person view, but as if  a frosted glass was in front of my eyes.

There was a pressure of sorts on my chest, as I said, I had the feeling that I was being squished into my bed by a giant thumb, but trying to retain logic, I realized that I hadn't inhaled air and my breathing was slow, deep and intense. This made me laugh. I was now laughing for nothing. Nothing at all. It was involuntary, like a twitch. My roomie laughed and said to my other roommate that "He's OUT!!". I protested, while my roommates sat grinning.

Five minutes in, I was OUTT but still thought I had THE WILL. I lay my head down and thought that I was fighting the high, but soon realized that my fight was my hallucination and was the high in itself. Upon seeing this, I relinquished 'control' and I let the giant thumb squish my rib cage to pulp. SQUEEEEZE and everything is okay. The giant thumb has vanished. But the remnants of my logical mind said to me that I had just inhaled. I let go and closed my eyes. My head was light, I thought to myself "fuck control....I'm gonna enjoy this moment!" and plugged in my earphones to play some 'Kashmir - Led Zep'
.

SQUEEEEEEEZE DID THE UNSTOPPABLE FORCE FROM THE ALMIGHTY THUMB. My mind had a mind of its own and was twisting inside my skull. My closed eyes were like my personal theater screens, showing me the most random motifs and abstract images, which all seemed old yet familiar. The riffs of Jimmy Page were making my soul twist, the bass plucks of John Paul Jones was like pebbles being dropped in the ocean in my heart that contained my soul, every drum beat by John Bonham was making me writhe in pleasure. The constant chatter of the Tv and of my roommates was annoying and I asked them to "let me be!". I was self conscious because I thought they were poking fun at my 'condition' but realized that it too was a hallucination as one was almost asleep and the other was working on his laptop. I requested them to switch off the light as it was interfering. My feet and toes too had a mind of their own and were stretching, twisting and twinging randomly at the beat of music. 

Interestingly, I noticed that whenever I opened my eyes, my high diluted and the presence of other people annoyed me because I felt I wasn't left to my own tools.

I thought I wasn't supposed to get this high and might die, but was unable to give a flying fuck, and " HAHA BITCH!" was all that I could manage to say. 3 hours passed with Led Zep and The Doors.I think I drifted to sleep with my earphones still on and woke up suddenly to the pain in my ears. Tore away the head phones and was OUTT again for the rest of the night.

Epilogue

The reason I talked about the event in the prologue was to bring to surface a, now tested, fact that although what you see is what you get, but there's more to the bounty than that your eyes let you loot.

I always had told myself that I'd smoke up in the company of someone special, preferably of an opposite gender, not because of the probability of invoking carnal intentions, but just to make the moment memorable. But yesterday was me saying "BALLS TO YOU" to myself because I didn't know that I'd like my high better in a completely opposite way, alone, just how a friend had told me, not all that long ago.

SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZE.

Sometimes you can't...

Breathe easy. \/

-Askios

Nature.

So you built your houses, harvested your food,

earned your wealth and bore your brood.

You sold your sweat, and tears for a cost,

never a thought to the one who really lost.

Now as you rest in your final recline,

With empty hearts, hands that never declined,

The hour has come, to repay your debt,

I am Nature, you owe me a death.

-Askios

Bandwidth.

Does anyone remember my old post about my experience with my fellow traveler on a train trip?
Well, yesterday saw history repeat itself, but with a mild twist. Read on..

It was my nth trip back from Bangalore to Chennai in the 6 a.m. train, and in all those journeys, I had realized that the probability of a good looking chick sitting next to you was as big as that of a T-rex inviting you for tea and cakes. Therefore, I found myself laughing at me for even entertaining that thought while boarding the train.

Looking for 'Seat no. 16.- Window seat', I quickly found to my dismay that it in fact was the 'Middle Seat' and the discomforting image of me fighting a proxy war with my co-passenger for the arm rests, instantly flashed in the back of my mind. While looking for luggage space I saw that there was just this lady sitting in the window seat, with the aisle seat unoccupied. I couldn't look at her face as she was reading 'The Time Traveler's Wife' and her hair was covering her face. I thought to myself, "Hmmm...could it possibly be that this lady here is in fact a C.H.I.C.K ? No way!", and quickly occupied my seat, lest the person in the aisle seat were to turn up and claim my dearest arm-rest. Upon successfully claiming the disputed territory and with mild irritation, due to the lack of information about my seat mate's face, I decided to plug myself into Led Zeppelin world. While I sat there connecting the end of earphones into my phone, I caught a glance of the lady's left arm adorned with a 'Fossil' watch, with her face still hidden, and I thought to myself.."Well...Rich? - Check. Good looking? - Insufficient data". From there on, due to my extreme force of habit, my eyes directly shot down at her feet. I saw feet looking like those of a lady belonging to the North, with slightly chipped nail paint and two toe rings one on each foot, wearing those big purple floaters with rounded white edges that made the footwear look very comfortable.

With all the right signs and the train starting to chug along, I finally decided to probe a little further to get a glimpse of the lady's face, and to my EXTREME PLEASURE...she turned out to be BEAUTIFUL!
"JACKPOT!", a happy man yelled in my head. She was beautiful, with her rimless specs making her look sophisticated and her tiny nose ring accentuating her lips. But just as soon as I celebrated my pleasant surprise, I was faced with the daunting task of initiating a conversation with a complete, and beautiful stranger from the opposite sex. I kept sampling, ice breakers like.. "Hey that's a nice watch!"...."naah...that works with Tattoos...not watches"...."how about........Hey, are you going to Chennai?"....."NO FUCKTARD, THIS TRAIN GOES TO MARS!!......eeeeugh....lame.". Meanwhile the train attendants came along distributing news papers. I got a lame newspaper and read it in 30 seconds and went back to the drawing board to figure out a decent ice breaker. After a couple of minutes, I saw her fold her paper very neatly and something instantly clicked..I asked her if I could borrow her newspaper as mine was all about celebrities, and she managed to breathe a silent "Sure". I said to myself "Contact ESTABLISHED! "

After 5 min when I mustered up enough courage to try again, I asked her "So...you travel to Chennai often?" and her tone was encouraging enough for me to continue pursuing. Thereon, past the perfunctory introductions, the conversation went on towards work, where she told me that she was working for an Indian MNC and how she was an IT Consultant and was traveling to Chennai for just a few days for a workshop. I asked how long had she been in Bangalore and where she was from. To my little dismay, the reply I got was "Well...my husband and I..*blank* Lucknow...*blank*" and the rest of the sentence was a big blank. Quickly back to reality I asked her if that was the reason why she was wearing toe rings and promptly she confirmed. Deep inside my head, once the world's happiest man groaned, "There goes my plan to go ask the lady out for a drink/dinner/coffee".

Like all my casual conversations, this one landed up on random topics like 'Life', 'Philosophy' and lame stuff like that. I was reminded of my old conversation with the mother of a 15 year old, so hoping to find this young lady, who looked in mid-to late 20's, to be like her, I asked her about her drinking. And not surprisingly she turned out to be a teetotaler who had 'tried liquor' . A little disappointed, I asked her what she liked doing in her free time and again to my dismay she said "Reading and Stitching". She seemed like a boxed up, career oriented and highly ambitious person, who kept lists of everything that was needed to 'execute' the day. We endlessly talked about Liquor and it's 'philosophical' dealings ( 'blades' to some ;D )
and how one must to be 'multi-dimensional' and stuff, whatever that meant. She was clearly a woman of her own making and I got a feeling that her image of me would be that of a donkey with a french beard.

At one point, I asked her if she was fond of writing and if she ever wrote anything. She said that she loved writing and it was her dream to write a novel. I asked her what was stopping her and to my amazement came the reply.."It's my retirement plan, currently I don't get the Bandwidth to do all that.".  It was as if my nuts were kicked into my throat. "Bandwidth??? Seriously??? Man!", was all I could say.

It's funny how different, people are. One- a mother, who used the 'f' word, smoked up, talked about introducing her child to alcohol and kicked some serious ass. and the Other- a young woman in mid-late 20's, liked to read and stitch. WEIRD DUDE!

I finally turned to look at my other seat and it still was unoccupied. After a couple of hours silence, I asked her where she was going in Chennai, and to my surprise, her destination was a few kilometers away from where I had to go and I told her that. To my extreme surprised she offered me a lift, as her office was going to book her a taxi and she didn't know the language or the directions. I gladly accepted but on the condition that "only if she didn't mind!", just to not be imposing, and she didn't. I said to myself.."Alright! On any other occasion this would have been some awesome progress, with an unmarried chick! Dammit! LUCK..I will get you for this!".

GOD I WROTE SO MUCH........I'M BORED......YOU FOLKS OBVIOUSLY MUST BE TOO.

OK OK.
Breathe Easy. \/
- Askios

Whisky Tango Foxtrot!

Who?

Who possesses you?

Who killed you?

Who owns your soul?

Why?

Why did you fly?

Why were you alive?

Why doth death don a flirtatious mole?

Where?

Where are your eyes?

Where be the million smiles?

Where is the Lady who found her dole?

When?

When did you fence your happy sublime?

When did you devil with dine?

 When did you sway 'pon gallows pole?

Whisky.

Who stole my peg?

Where stopped my dreadful tread?

What swooped into this blighted hole?

Tango.

What did you say?

When you looked dismay.

"Would life ever find its true blue goal?"

Foxtrot.

Would you ever live for once?

Where the light doth, melancholy shuns.

When the heavens, your elegance extol.

-Askios
(12-Sept-2012)
(typed "Who" on a blank post by mistake and decided to see it to the end. )

Huh? Absolute?

If you don't already know, don't ask.

You must have heard the words 'higher conscious' being tossed about, around you at times. Probably by religion, maybe a quote from someone important, or by whichever means. You know, people saying that one should strive to 'ascend' to some sort of greater consciousness, et al.

Now, if it wasn't already clear, I would like the reader to understand what meaning emanates from the phrase in question. It conveys to the listener that there exists a state of mind that's somehow elevated or better than the standard run of the mill ones. Coming to the point, I have a problem with the meaning conveyed, which misrepresents the meaning intended. To elaborate on this, let me shed some light on tiny fact that gets swept under the carpet. Every human, or any other being in fact, is born into a set social structure. Everything is fixed, be it the way you talk, the way you think, the way you eat, dress, live etc. Every aspect of your habitat is set according to tradition or society. We can safely say that a particular set of rules are embedded into you. I would like to refer to this as a  forced consciousness, which in no way is disapproving as, nobody had the option of choosing at birth, the way he/she could think. It was only when the thought process matured enough, did one venture outside known territories to attain what people call a higher consciousness, but I would like to refer to as 'alternate consciousness'. 

The meaning intended is same, a state of mind that is achieved not by higher/better thinking but by an alternative thought process. That is to say that both forced and alternate consciousnesses exist in the same plane but are parallel to each other.

If you're wondering what difference does it make or why the f did I write about this, then to put forth my case, I'd say that I always found it irritating that some people forced the notion into others minds that somehow the provisions they had to live or grow in life weren't enough or were inferior. And that one had to meditate-stop eating a particular type of food-shun worldly life to reach one's full potential/be better yada yada yada. YES! Some may have reached that alternate state of mind where their perspective to everything was changed and NO! Its not something so important that everyone must strive to attain. Those who have not attained that alternative consciousness, but are interested can either follow the footsteps of those that have, or can chart their own way, and no one has the right to take away that choice.

In my opinion, the person who can swing between both, forced and alternate consciousnesses at choice, has truly completely grown in all aspects. As Aristotle said..

It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it.

After such incredible rant-athon...the only thing that remains constant with consciousnesses is one's need to..

Breathe Easy. \/.

-Askios

The Bastard Phase.

If you're wondering what 'the bastard phase' means, well it's just a name I gave to a series of recurring states of callousness and mediocrity that I often experience. If I had to give an analogy, I'd say it's like a iron nail rusting away. I know I'm corroding away but I don't do anything about it. Not because I can't, but because I don't feel like. I don't really know what causes this syndrome to happen, but I do know some of the symptoms..

To give a few examples...

1. I haven't written anything AT ALL for the whole month of August, although I had some 'less than half-attempts'.
2. The fact that after point 1, all I could come up with is this self-loathsome bull shit.
3.  Emptiness prevails in almost every sphere of  your existence.

When I say 'emptiness', I do not mean it in that 'emo' sense, but in a sort of like a drooling vegetable way. I found faults but I couldn't care less. I lied. I stole. I traded friends with, indifference. I pretended to be something that never existed. All this without consequence.


....but...


as always there's always that silver lining..

I treaded over music heaven, and found that fabled ephemeral high sans the trigger and made her mine forever.
The sheer fact of me acknowledging that right now, I'm writing like an effing retard, yet charging on, gives me a speck of hope that I'll resuscitate that something, that made me pick up a pen and write stuff down.
After all, I have Led Zeppelin as my saviors.

Lets bring this mama back to life!

Fuck yes!
- Askios

Holy SEAT!!

'Public transport'...two words that invoke, all sorts memories within anyone...(well at least most of us). Everyone has their own special experience that they had, during a bus journey or a train ride. It's kinda like first time sex...everyone has a story to tell.

Anyway, while wasting time over FB, I stumbled upon this video on YouTube called 'Hotseat', which was, in a way, built around the above theme. It shows the life of a run of the mill, college student and the usual morning chaos that he undergoes everyday, which includes chasing buses, dealing with rude bus conductors on-board and scheming like the Dark Lord from Star Wars, just to grab a seat.
Speaking of bus conductors, I would just like to point out that these are a special category of people that one can find only in South India. When you're in his bus, the bus conductor is the boss. He owns you, your wallet, your sense of space and your ass. Everyone's equal in the eyes of these perpetually pissed off people and they're ready to imprint their size 10 shoe prints on anyone's butt, if they're having a bad day, which I must say is portrayed extremely well in Hotseat.

Essentially, the best thing about this short film, I found was the fact that they put into pictures and words, things, that people (like me) just think at a subconscious level. I watched the video and went like..."OMFG! I THINK LIKE THAT!!"

But wait....the moment I started relating to the film and started thinking.."bleh..nice. Ok..next!!!", the story tellers just threw a kitchen sink at my face and past that, it got eerie! You gotta watch it to understand what I'm talking about.

All in all the short film is just fantastic on more levels than one. Awesome story, neatly fit into a short time frame and how! Not a single moment where the story seems to be getting stale or draggy..its 10 whole minutes of sustained entertainment.
Alright enough talk....here's the video..

 

Now couple of things that you might want to know...the language used here is Kannada, spoken chiefly in Karnataka (its where Bangalore is :D), India...but don't let that stop you..there are sub-titles for your aid.

Also, there's this funny thing I noticed during the part where the cast names appear..wonder if you'd notice. It's something the protagonist did (rather..DIDN'T do..). Raise your hand if you know what I'm talking about xD

Hope you enjoy the video. Do tell what you think about it..........and don't forget to..

Breath easy. \/
-Askios

15 International Songs, I shall make sure get passed on to my next generation.

Real music is in trouble. It has come to an extent where we the listeners have to take it upon ourselves to pass on the legacy of the Legends of our time and, of the times of our predecessors, to our next generation and save them from the rust and degeneracy of the idiots who think the likes of Usher, PitBull, Eminem, Gaga, Katy Perry and the modern day 'rockers' like Foo Fighters, Gotye, Linkin Park etc. are the harbingers of musical enlightenment.
(Do note that a certain fag called Bieber is excluded from the above list. It's because he's not even worthy of being mentioned amongst the derelicts.)

Before we proceed onto the list there are a few points that I want the reader to know.

1. This is list consists of bands and songs that I personally was influenced by. As I've said before, they may or may not find your vote of approval..and the last fuck I gave was a long long time ago, in a galaxy far far away.

2. Having conveyed point 1. if the reader disagrees about the greatness/value of any of the mentioned songs, I'd love to know what your point of view and your reasoning is. Provided, you make sane arguments.

3. This is just a list of the Top 15 songs that I believe, are extremely awesome and may need our effort to seep into the minds of our coming generations. There obviously are other really great songs that either I may not have listened to OR might have failed to add in OR didn't appeal to me. In such case, feel free to provide your additions.

4. Although upon looking at the list you might think I have a bias towards a particular genre, I would like to inform the reader, that to me genre matters the least and it is purely coincidental if some/all of songs mentioned belong to a particular (sub) genre. :)

 
Here goes.

15. Zerstören (eng: Destroy) - Rammstein

If you are a metal head with an open mind, you'll be totally held against a wall, clutching your testicles protecting them from the sheer brutality of Till Lindemann's voice and Richard Z. Kruspe's complementing lead guitars. But wait...just the moment you think that the song is all testosterone and ear piercing..the outro leaves you wondering how R+ was able to transition from heavy artillery fire to pillow fighting.

14. Ich Will (eng: I want) - Rammstein

Again, R+ !! That voice.....you just cannot get enough of it. But this time there's more to R+ than just brawn...this song is a crowd drug. By that I mean, if hypothetically R+ were to play just this one song over and over again in their concert, they could do so without worrying about boring the audience. Its just that fucking good.

13. Links 2 3 4 (eng: Left 2 3 4) - Rammstein

And R+ again!!!! (LOL! My child is gonna be a freak!) Considering 15. and 14. above, this song is mellow. Knowing R+, the whispering by Till in this song gives you the chills! Fun fact: Links 2 3 4 is a yell by German Military used during marching. Its analogous to "Hut 2-3-4" used elsewhere. Gotta love that march themed sound.

12. November Rain - Guns n' Roses

Where to begin with this song! It's 9 minutes of sheer bliss. Axle Rose's voice and the lyrics of this song just hit you right at that sweet spot in your heart. Added to that the amazing Slash whose solos leave you wanting nothing more in life.

11.Faceless Man - Creed

Man, Scott Stapp....in his inimitable voice  the spirituality in the lyrics makes you just want to sit and listen to whatever he says. This song is not all about being loud and being heard, it invokes something peaceful inside you.

10. Sonne (eng: Sun) - Rammstein

R+ AGAIN!! This was the first Metal song ever that I heard and fell in love with it instantly. I had some school work to do and this song was playing at 2 a.m. on the radio. I heard it and turned it to full blast, and got thwacked by my folks for ANNIHILATING their sleep, but it was totally worth it.
The female voice in this song is just heavenly, I consider this song to be my saviour. I wouldn't exist without it.

9. Turn the page - (covered by) Metallica

There's no denying, Metallica are the Gods of Metal and Hard Rock.This particular song was originally written and sung by Bob Seger and what a mighty fine work he did. I like the Metallica version as it breathes life into the words, and who on Mother Earth could ignore Kirk Hammet on the lead guitars!
Turn the page is a living breathing creature in itself. It frustrates you, teases you then calms you down to take you on a high and then bring you back to earth, wanting MORE.

8: Weathered - Creed

This would be the perfect song to listen to with your best buds over a few beers or a scotch. Just drifts away taking you along on a soft breeze. Love the country type feel you get with the guitars in the intro, and again as I mentioned in 11. that voice of Scott Stapp is inimitable. It sounds simple, but there's a lot of technicality hidden under it.

7. Drops of Jupiter - Train

Patrick Monahan wrote this song inspired by his mother's death after the opening lines came to him in a dream. The whole experience of this song is purifying in itself, sheer brilliance and heart warming. Drops of Jupiter is the prime example of the ways music can bring forth the good in you.

6. No Leaf Clover - Metallica

No Leaf Clover was my first experience in listening to a full fledged orchestra working in unison with the Legends of Guitars like Hammet and Jason Newstead and what an experience it was!! The lyrics, telling the listener how sometimes what actually looks great is way way different that what it actually is...and not to forget the epitome vocal brilliance of James Hetfield binding and gagging the listener!

5. Purple Haze - Jimi Hendrix

How could anyone miss one the biggest contributor to music and guitars especially. Purple Haze has this atypical coolness factor of the 1960's and nothing can ever match upto that era in terms of number raw geniuses of music that era produced, especially Hendrix here. This MUST be passed on to the next generation as it has come under the danger of extinction.

4. Unforgiven I & Unforgiven-II - Metallica


Sirs and Madams, what can I say... very rarely has there ever been a song made that has had such deep, passionate and intense poetry for lyrics and such a Legendary set of artists to convey it. To me, Unforgiven I & II define what Metallica is at its crux. You can get any truer to yourself than this. Just spellbinding.

3. Voodoo Child - Jimi Hendrix

Aah! This one song kicks mighty ass. With the exquisite riffs straight from the Lord himself and the lyrics like..."When I stand next to a mountain, I chop it with the edge of my hand...", mankind found new and better ways to get an orgasm! This one's for the keeping!!

2. Stairway to Heaven - Led Zeppelin

I consider Led Zep to be the Fathers of all that constitutes music. No man or band has or will ever come close to the Divinity of these legends. Fuck! This band is everything that defines the word perfect. Stairway to Heaven talks about how a lady gets all that she wants without giving anything back. It starts off on a cynical note, but then eases out. The softening undertones of the song just serenades you, and nothing matters after that. If Stairway to Heaven or Led Zep is forgotten or fades away in time, then there really isn't any hope left for music itself.

1. Kashmir - Led Zeppelin

Time to sit up, shut up and listen.
Kashmir was the single biggest contribution to music made by mankind. Each of the Led Zep band members, i.e. Robert Plant, Jimmy Page, John Bonham and John Paul Jones could have an award analogous to the Nobel, named after them!
God! When the verse...

"Oh, pilot of the storm who leaves no trace, like thoughts inside a dream
Heed the path that led me to that place, yellow desert stream
My Shangri-La beneath the summer moon, I will return again
Sure as the dust that floats high in June, when movin' through Kashmir.

Oh, father of the four winds, fill my sails, across the sea of years
With no provision but an open face, along the straits of fear"

...hits you....you can't help but have teary eyes. No one writes like this anymore. No one sings like this anymore. No one plays drums, guitars and keyboards like this anymore. Fuck....no one THINKS like this anymore. I'd be the worst predecessor in the history of humanity if, after knowing about the existence of a song like this, didn't pass its legacy onto my future generations.

Heck! I took it upon myself to teach my folks back home, a part of the lyrics viz.

" Talk and song from tongues of lilting grace, whose sounds caress my ear
But not a word I heard could I relate, the story was quite clear. "

and made them SING it along with me....

Kashmir could easily replace an honest prayer...it is THAT BIG. Don't take my word for it....
In the words of the God himself...

Robert Plant said.."It was an amazing piece of music to write to, and an incredible challenge for me ... Because of the time signature, the whole deal of the song is… not grandiose, but powerful: it required some kind of epithet, or abstract lyrical setting about the whole idea of life being an adventure and being a series of illuminated moments. But everything is not what you see. It was quite a task, ’cause I couldn’t sing it. It was like the song was bigger than me. It’s true: I was petrified, it’s true. It was painful; I was virtually in tears."

If you haven't listened to it before...Sir/Madam...I urge you to listen to it at least once..its an experience in itself.

That concludes my list of 15 songs that I would pass down to my successors. I know, some really epic songs/bands were missed out..it all comes down to personal tastes. Although here are a few honorable mentions..that also need to be passed on, but I couldn't include them for some n00b reason. Apologies for that.

Thunderstruck - AC/DC
Cocaine - Eric Clapton
Shine on you crazy diamond - Pink Floyd
Comfortably Numb - Pink Floyd
Riders on the Storm - The Doors
Hallowed be thy name - Iron Maiden
Run to the Hills - Iron Maiden
Number of the Beast - Iron Maiden
...last but not the least.......It's a Hard knock life - Annie
.......(what else am I missing here?? Feel free to add....)

- Happy Listening \/
Askios.

Harakiri.

Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives.  

Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives. Broken lives.

- for evermore

Askios

Silence.

Greetings! Its been ages since I could find something to write about and ergo, I was getting kinda cranky.


(But then...suddenly....under the veil of the night, just half past the witching hour (3:30 a.m.) I felt this incessant need...the need to do SOMETHING. I realized I had no choice but to take action..so I opened the bathroom door and did it.)

Scratch that.


It was around 3:40 a.m. and I was listening to some random music that I had recalled having heard back when I was in my pre-teens. It was a cold and dark room with only a faint light of my roommate's laptop screen and I was wide awake, staring at nothingness, thinking about random stuff and after a few moments, this random trail of thoughts, somehow led me towards the human perception of God.

Just to clarify..If you don't believe in God, well...to each his own. I'm not here to 'market' my version or beliefs. I personally do believe in God, but my version is free from the extra accessories that society rubs (and has been rubbing since the beginning of time) into one's face, but that topic is reserved for the very next post, which will be posted soon but later than 'very soon'. :P

So, the moment I reached the 'God station' on my train of thoughts, the first thing that struck me was 'Silence' as being one of His most notable traits.
That reminded me of this incident that happened the other day, when my roommate just burst into this question about God's existence, and if He did exist then why was the world in such suffering. I was watching the rerun of 'Top Gear', showing a Buggati Veyron Supersport going 420+ kmph and upon hearing this, the world's BIGGEST pokerface appeared on my face.
Coming back to the present, I did ponder over the reason behind the Silence and had a sort of a pseudo-epiphany. Let me explain...
There exist three types of Silent entities...(although the Supreme Being is of such transcendence that the word 'entity' doesn't apply to Him, but we're gonna use it here for ease.)

1. Silent by choice.
2. Silent because of the lack of choice.
3. Silent by nature.

The ones who are silent by choice are mostly people who are involved in a search for something, it could as abstract as meaning of life, or as trivial as the search for a job. Also, this type of silence is a product of meditation.

The ones who are silent because of the lack of choice include people who are mute or dead. They were never given the choice between silence and sound.

Then we come to the One who is Silent by nature. It can never be a mortal, no matter how wise or how enlightened. Mortals always are bound to break silence no matter how hard they try. By 'breaking silence' here, I mean that any given person on the planet at any given instance interferes or affects his/her surroundings and the corresponding beings, even in death, we simply don't have a choice. The One who is silent by nature has that choice or the ability to keep out of the box, or interfere with it.

Now, coming to the reason why God would choose to keep Silent. In Indian/Hindu mythology (Since I'm not as well versed with other schools of thought belonging to other religions, as I am about Hinduism I'm using the term "Hindu", but its got nothing to do with religion per se.) God is considered to be The One who has no beginning and no end, He is the Supreme Being, who created Time itself. From whom everything begins and at which everything ends.

Now taking the above factors into consideration, an obvious logic arises, that there would be no need for The Being to interfere with his own 'creation'. Take the following analogy of a child spinning a top on a surface.

Once enough effort has been put to spin the top, there exists no more, a need to put any more effort into it since its already doing it's job. It will spin and eventually come to a halt. The child just has to stand back and enjoy his effort come to fruition, although he can choose to stop it abruptly and kick it aside, but he 'chooses' to not to do so....yet.

So apply the same logic at unimaginably macro and micro levels and you will see the point I'm trying to make.
Whew..after so much typing I choose to..

Breath Easy. \/
-Askios

Low (Etzz Version.)

  Bright as a dream and a heart of gold.

To every wish's end, would her means unfold.
 'twas her wish, like a speck to flow,

Twisted and twirled into Zephyr's soft blow.
O' dear Heavens! She settled for low.

Cried the heavens.."She settled for so less!".
Her gifted wits, she traded for a dress.
Bought a minute's mirth, escaped the wailing weeks,
Relished her cheer, ignoring life's shrieks.

But who in world could advise the wise,
 leading themselves to an ironic demise.
Treading the desert, in search of snow,
Sigh heaved the heavens,

"She settled for so low!"

/*reader AnonEtzz version begins here*/

He possessed her heart,
She possessed his tears,
He possessed her world
Including her fears.

Broken mirrors,
Pricelessly pieced.
Once she was one,
Then she decreased.

A thousand songs were dedicated,
And then some more.
It always fell short,
He made her soar.

They thought her wise,
When they came to know..
Then Tut-tuted at the heavens,
Coz she settled for so low.

But never was it about settling,
Forget about it being low,
She was in it for the long haul,
She was here to see it grow.

There are times her effort breaks,
When the hibernation ends.
With the animosity gone,
It's time to become friends.

But every once in a while
Out come her silver linings,
When she basks in the afterglow
Of its unassuming Humble beginnings.

- AnonEtzz

This is an extended version (read better version) of Low. I loved it and wanted to share. (I posted my version above the AnonEtzz version because it sort of extends it. Besides that, AnonEtzz holds her own ground and identity.)

Low.

 Bright as a dream and a heart of gold.

To every wish's end, would her means unfold.
 'twas her wish, like a speck to flow,

Twisted and twirled into Zephyr's soft blow.
O' dear Heavens! She settled for low.

Cried the heavens.."She settled for so less!".
Her gifted wits, she traded for a dress.
Bought a minute's mirth, escaped the wailing weeks,
Relished her cheer, ignoring life's shrieks.

But who in world could advise the wise,
 leading themselves to an ironic demise.
Treading the desert, in search of snow,
Sigh heaved the heavens,
"She settled for so low!"


-Askios
(Don't remember when the line "oh she settled for low" struck my head. Been trying to wrap my head around it ever since)

How to: SoupRage

(Aha!! You thought I forgot about my 'How to: xx' series, after that How to: be a Roommate post, DID YOU NOT !?!?! _|_ I didn't !)


This post is meant to educate the sub species of humanity, on the magical and arcane etiquette of eating soup.

I was in my office cafeteria waiting in line for my turn to collect my food tray which included soup, like everyone else. I was perpetually bored and annoyed at the guy serving at the counter, for not being nimble and fast enough. Every scoop of rice he slopped onto the tray was like a work of art to him, that he enjoyed admiring.
Someone ought to teach them about Service Level Agreements (SLAs)!

Anyway, as I was slugging it out in the line, I saw that every person who got his tray+soup bowl was blindly adding extra pepper and salt to that vegetable decoction, without even tasting it first. Seriously! What if the 'artist' at the counter poured a bowl of salt in your soup without realizing, and here you are sprinkling those glorious white grains..

It is alright if you're at a random relaxed place where food is just a hassle that you need to get through everyday. But, lets say you're at a party/business lunch where the host/chef is serving soup and you here, like a gorilla just dash for the vinegar+salt+pepper combo without even tasting the soup first. This would be a great insult to the chef/host because (s)he'd feel that you're prejudiced about his/her culinary skills and somehow magically knew that whatever effort (s)he put into making that soup for you, wasn't good enough, and it'd ALWAYS NEED MORE SALT!

How would you feel if after a day's hard work, which would include writing code, fixing bugs and yelling at testers at office, your manager comes up to you and says "your soup sucks! I want more salt!" ? (I guess your answer would be "trolled".) Its the same way, you'd make the chef feel.

Have a little curtsy next time and take sip first, to show your appreciation for the chef's effort and then add the condiments, as required. Let the chef..

Breathe Easy. \/
-Askios

The Raven (1845)

(Warning: This poem has a lot going on and is pretty long, so, if you can't read the whole poem, then don't begin at all.)

---

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!

- Edgar Allan Poe

Featuring.

Has any of you reading this ever read the poem 'The Raven' by Edgar Allan Poe ?

It was the first poem that I read seriously with an intent to understand, what's being said. I stumbled across this amazing poetry when, a few months back, I caught myself humming "Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary" repeatedly, and subconsciously trying to find the next line but to no avail.

I think I had read the poem in my 8th grade the first time, or probably it was the below comic, by xkcd
that I read and decided to Google out the source..

Whatever it may be I found The Raven, and its style clicked something inside me and made me want to write. Although I'm no literature connoisseur, I personally think that this poem's style was way ahead of its time. Almost like Lamb of God opening to Shakespeare musical.
In short, the rhyme scheme and the refrain of the poem got me weak in the knees. (There! I sound like one of those douches who like to use jargon just to show off.)

So, I've decided to post 'The Raven' as is, without me commenting or inferring stuff from it. Why dissect something beautiful when you can just stand back and enjoy?

 Hope you see what I saw in that poem.

Breathe Easy. \/
Askios

"We'll rest in peace, on my rivers of belief.."

(The headline sets up, quite a dramatic and serious scene. Au contraire to what's coming up. )

Been quite some time since I wrote something without trying to rhyme.....DAMMIT!
Let me give you an intro/scene description about what this post is going to be about.

I was meant to travel back to Chennai from Bangalore, by train which was scheduled at around 11:45 p.m., I reached the station one and a half hour early and had nothing to do at the platform. A little voice in my head asked me to note down whatever I was looking at or was happening around me. I plugged in my earphones and started tapping ('touching' actually) away at my phone to 'jot' down my observations, and this post is the elucidated version of those notes.

*To stop the chain, pull the train...err...no wait..*

So, it was Sunday night and I was sitting way behind everyone on one of those steel chairs, you find at hospitals and the station was surprisingly quiet. The weather was the usual, relaxed and inert. The weird unusual quietude of the platform was regularly shattered by the sub par speakers, playing random jarring music and announcements, it got rather irritating, especially when I had, 'Back to the rivers of Belief - Enigma' playing in my earphones..

"Turn off the ligh..YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE! TRAIN NUMBER....take a deep br...WILL ARRIVE SHORTLY ON PLATFORM...."

at other times..

"YATRIGAN KRIPYA DHYAAN DIJIYE....take me back to the rivers of belief....GAADI NUMBER..I look inside my heart..."

Nonetheless, I got through it. I had a decent, hip looking guy, probably in his early thirties, sitting a seat away from mine, with a backpack and those 'rough terrain' boots.

Ahead of me there were two stone benches, one of them had a North-East Indian/Asian chick, who at first was quiet, but ended up mingling with a south Indian couple, after they asked her about something which was inaudible. They didn't chat away, but there definitely was some interaction between the three of them.

On the other bench there was a Caucasian chick, with a tattooed right arm, a pierced lower lip and a red backpack. She was wearing beige colored clothes that looked raggy, had her hair in a mess and had Converse shoes. She was quiet all throughout, didn't mingle at all with anyone and since she was alone, the bench had lots of space left. Every casual passerby gave her a glance. After some time, two random uncles came along and sat next to the white chick, they were harmless, probably curious and, I guess, a little 'promiscuous' (in the subtlest sense of the word).
They were facing the opposite direction compared to the chick, giving the lady discreet 'looksies' . After a while they got bored and left.

There were a few random people around buying coffee, policemen casually strolling by. Then there was this platform vendor who was sitting a small distance away from me, counting his earning for the day and checking for counterfeits.

SUDDENLY............... BOOOM!

The guy sitting next to me flips open a book and starts quietly chanting religious hymns, written in Kannada. It was quite shocking as he certainly didn't 'look' religious, even by a long shot! Post the chanting, our man flips out a lunch box and has his dinner, consisting of  lemon rice a.k.a 'Chitranna'

All this while the white chick's bench mates kept changing, but her silence was constant and all this drama took about 45 minutes, post which a train (not mine, but headed towards Chennai) arrived and there was a lot of chaos and commotion, and I soon lost interest.

KA-POW!

My college mate passes by with her boyfriend and post the greetings (Chiefly consisting of me incessantly asking "what's aaaaaaaap!!!" ) I asked her what she did over the weekend. She said that she was giving her GRE on Monday, and I was like..."Shoobie dooba....Shoobie Dooba", in the head. She reciprocated and asked me what I did in Bangalore. PAT! Came the reply..."I just came home to visit folks and play..". Confused, she raised an eyebrow..I said.."DotA....?". Feeling like a deflated balloon, she heaved a sigh and said her goodbyes as she had to board the train (that wasn't the only reason, as to why she left. (>.<) )

Soon after I lost all my interest, and everything turned blur, till I started writing this. Dunno how I got here. I probably had to..

Breathe Easy. \/
- Askios
(27-May-2012, 10:59 p.m.)

Rooted

Time's held still, in his tranquil gait.

His invisible smiles, your peace reinstate.

Kind as the Gods, wisdom of the ages,

His omniscient silence, claimt reams of pages.

Father of the seasons, the figure of might.

Light torn asunder, in His proud upright.

On the rare moon, when He did aver,

Rapt held the Gods, Earth stood aquiver.

O' but the words, never spoke of spite.

Out of the seed and into the Light.

To have His gravelly voice befall mortal ears,

Nectar to the Gods, helt pale as tears.

His resolute air, had the Heavens well suited,

but His heart lay with The Mother, earthbound..well rooted.

-Askios

(18-May-2012, 10:00 p.m.)

Its a trap!

India is known worldwide for its IT..its all over the media....but I'm gonna talk here about stuff that never comes to the fore. Usually because it happens to people who are dumb enough to not realize that they're getting screwed over or because of fucked up circumstances.

Now bear in mind I'm talking about the people who've been picked up (placed) from "not so premier Institutes" of education, because I myself am one and well...I wouldn't know what it'd be like to be a 'Higher mortal'.

To begin with, everyone (most of us, except the ones acutely inclined towards philosophical aspects of life *phfffbbt*) who joins a company, dreams about his/her future...what kinda life (s)he'd be living couple of years down the road, stuff (s)he'd own and the amount of cash (s)he'd be rolling in yada yada yada...you get the drift.
 I here would like to fine tune the perspective and focus on the Indian IT sector..by which I mean,
Indian IT MNCs.

So! This is what I'm gonna do..I shall describe whatever I need to say, as if it were a script to a play...

Actors:

1. College: Teaches students how to begin being everything from an Astrophysicist to a Watchman.
2. Student: Pays College so that Company comes to hire him. Doesn't really care about College much, but believes in some abstract lim_{x → ∞} f(x) called 'Destiny'
3. Company: Out on a hunting trip looking for Students, with a Sniper rifle, with College as the spotter. Doesn't actually care about the Student much, treat him as a means to an end (rolling in cash...lots of it). 
4. Client: Hires Company for it's 'services'. Mute spectator.
5. Pizza: What everyone above wants. (Everyone eventually gets one (of a kind) but they don't know that!)

*Pizza..Skittles....same difference -_-*

Scene 1: Initially

College → Student: *Not giving a fuck, but secretly* You must work hard for 4 years so that you can claim your Pizza from Company.

Student: *Nodding while playing mobile games/ sleeping/ not giving a fuck* Yes Master!

Scene 2: Three and a half years past

College → Student: *Still not giving a fuck, openly now* You must be ready, by now, to meet Company, so that you can get that Pizza that everyone needs!

Student: Holy CRAP! We NEED Pizza!! *Last minute Hyperdrive*

Scene 3: D-Day

College →Company: Here Master, they seem well done *Summoning Students*

Company → Students: I have the world's best Pizza who wants it ? *Dangling a cheese filled slice in front of them*

Students: ME ME MEEEEEE!!

Company: Ok, I will take half of you and leave the rest for other Companies.

Students: Ok.

Company →College: *Patting* You did well.

College: *Teehee*

Scene 4: Post D-Day:

Company → Students: You must train in order to have Pizza.

 Student: Yes Master!

Student : *Dreaming* When I get my Pizza, I'm gonna be the world's best Pizza eater! OM NOM NOM!


Scene 5: Post training

Company → Student: *Cunningly* Ok work for Client, he's the one who will deliver your Pizza.


Student: Huh? Oh uhmmm okay.


Scene 6: Working for 1 year


Student → Company: *Wondering* Hey. Where's my Pizza? You said Client would deliver it.


Company: *Pokerface*



Student: *Sternly* I want Pizza


Company: I only have Garlic Bread. You have only that option.


Student: Sorry! I want Pizza only!


Company: We don't have Pizza. 85% of company only provides Garlic Bread,  the rest provides a mix of Pizza and Leftovers


Student: *Suppressing bestial rage* Let me work for some other Client, he might deliver my Pizza.


Company: NO! You must work for this Client.


Student: Fuck you! *Finally coming to his senses and leaving Company no choice but to release him*


Client  → Company: Here take your Pizza. Do what you want with it.


Company: MINE MINE MINEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!! MUAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!!

THE END




What? Wondering what happened to Student? Why? Nobody cared at the beginning...who'd care in the end? He's probably just..


-Breathing Easy \/,
Askios