Ordinary people who do extraordinary tasks. Go Read it!
This has been my guiding principle but never could I put my own thoughts into words as has he.
Thus spake he…
“When a person has solidified his thoughts and beliefs so much, that he cannot change them even in spite of evidence that proves otherwise… that’s when he has really become old.”
it has happened once. and its happening again. the initial journey is a dream sequence that has come alive. lots of laughs, thrills, new ways of working, increased tanginess in your work, and a great way to using it. and then it starts…
the initial symptoms tell me all about the crippling systemic failure thats waiting to happen. and if the symptoms are anything to go by, the catastrophe will definitely cripple the entity completely…
first, it wont allow me to work on it, play around with it, move around in it. then, it wont allow me allow me to watch it. and then finally it wont even let me just touch it. and then the crippling starts. bouts of startup acitivity cutting down on my productivity. and then it ends…
yes, thats my fedora core 3 gnu/linux installation on my pc. it has happened once[twice??] already and its happening again!
first, the gnome-terminal starts crashes and then it becomes defunct. then nautilus wont even start! and then vim crashes on entry. so i pretty much have a system with three of its main tools not working! And then KDE wont even work and neither does Gnome. Can you think of windows, with its EXPLORER.exe, wordpad not working and still wanting to work???
thanks to the fact, that im using XFCE that im still using it. there must be something wrong that causes this systematic corruption of the system that corrupts the files in /bin and /usr/sbin???
linux gods, any answers?
The talk of her always brought out the blush in him. Any small sentence about her or even a instance about her and he would blush pink. It was unnatural for any man, particularly any married man to blush when talked about his wife. But here was a man, in all his age, elegance and profession, who inspite of the life he lived, who would blush always.
A very few understood him. And a very few knew him. He appeared a loving husband to all until they knew what truth he had to live with. When they learnt that he was unmarried widower, some thought he was a fool, some thought he was a hopeless romantic, some men changed their ways having learnt what they were blessed with and some women wished they too had a husband so devoted; not able to understand that such a devotion needed particularly great qualities in them too.
It wasn’t the only the pain he endured, that they respected, it was the life in his spirit that lived, the happy life in the pain that he had to live with, the pinnacle of hope with which he lived, even where there was none. Seeing him happy, living his life with all the pain and the relief, the misery and the excitement, that was what made him stand out.
He never gave anyone the chance to express their pity for him, no one ever knew what he lost. No one ever knew what he had to live with. No one knew what he was left with.
It was the hypocrisy so ingrained in the minds that even innocent sounding perfectly plausible words seemed way out of context.
When he and his friends had sent a ‘Take Care. We Love You’ card to his best friend who was a girl, her mother and father were very happy and full of pleasure to see so much of a care from her friends. But when as the only friend left, he wrote ‘Take Care. I Love You’ it just moved her farther away from his life. And it was then he decided he would never ever get involved with any girl in his life as a friend and definitely not as a lover.
A small drive and a blind date.
Neither of them were true. Moments earlier, they were a young couple in love, to be wedded soon as husband and wife, in a ceremony blessed happily by their parets, cruising in a mindless rush on the freeway.
It was only moments earlier, wasnt it? The emotion sweeping them and dwarfing the moment itself. The insanity and the elationjoy with a promise of all eternity? It all looked so contrived now, the harsh reality mayhap. The night which had been illuminatiing wonderful moments earlier, crept silently into the morose shadows.
And then it happened.
An error of decision so unlikely of him, but then, that was the erroneousness of the moment too. And now the emotion ended and was replaced by a much stronger emotion, an anti-emotion of all that he had felt just moments before.
She was sprawled in his lap, the woman of his life. It was as if the nature bidding a tearful tribute to his demised love and life. It wept at its foolishness for paining a man, the only heart that could ever stand test to its cruelties. Pure and eternal.
She kept looking into him. Eyes filled full only with regret, she knew that the man holding her would never be the same again. He would never be the kid that he was now. Before her was the only man that she ever trusted and truly loved and now here he was, broken, unsure of what to say, unsure of what to feel, but only sure that the woman of his life was bidding him farewell.
Shw saw pain and he saw only deep regret. But unmistakable to each, there was one emotion that both of them saw, a deep seething pain; so deep and cruel, only her absence was a better way out of this pain, she could never endure it and neither would he.
It was the end of a man, the man-child. The precious child was dead and it would never come back. He sat there alone, desolated and helpless in the very true sense of the word. The road was empty, with only the stars that stood, like fallen tears of the moon.The road desolate and him heart broken.
Rivulets of blood drying up fast. Their blood was a tribute to their love. Love masquerading as blood was fast leaving them. It was this blood, that was once theirs and would never be his again, and it would never be anyone else’s.
The blood left stains and the marks went deep; no cleaning would ever rub off that stains. They would never mean anything more than dried blood to anyone else, but to him they were all that were once his. Only his. And now they would stay with him. Till the end.
The moment would forever remain etched in his life. Like a stain of acid that was etched on glass, it was a stain that could never be erased, it added a rare beauty to his persona, and to the insanity and injustice of the moment itself.
(Inspiration: The Last Kiss by Pearl Jam)
Whats wrong with all the con man movies these days, huh? Why has it to be that, the end is such a complete twist? The movir takes the audience for a roll for three hours and then gives a stale ending? Ok, ok not a stale ending, but by the baap of all cons? Why has the Great Great Conman always be conned by a very well thought con by an amateur? Is there no value of experience?
We saw that happening in ‘Chocolate’, where the whole of the movie culminated in the final scene, where all the story is just made up. Then again saw that in ‘Ek Khiladi, Ek Hasina’, again the last scene and we learn that the two and a half hours spent was finally a con act. And again that same thing in ‘BluffMaster’. I do appreciate the care taken for a fun ride, and of couse I love being funny, but not when Im the butt of jokes. And seriously, at the end of the move, I felt just that!
Oh and btw, do watch BluffMaster. In spite of the obvious diassapointment at the end [I could exactly understand the whole story half and hour before the climax, and that doesnt speak very good of such a con movie], the movie is really good. Performances stand out. Boman is wow! Really loved that scene on the marine drive. Nana is wow! Trying to be a dangerous don and to appear funny is no mean task and he has delivered it my friends! Ritesh is seriously coming to be the guy with a penchant for selecting good movies. Pretty underrated actor, i wish he just stays the same, going for only the best ones. Priyanka was cool. Abhishek has done a terrific job, and i dont think he will ever change his name to ‘Abhisheik Bacchan’, he wont need that anyways…