September 13, 2008. Five blasts ripped through Delhi, stunning everyone in addition to killing scores of people and injuring even more. Strategically placed at some of the most crowded spots of the city on a weekend, they were clearly designed to achieve maximum body count. All this was in addition to the three bombs that were diffused by the bomb squad.
To add to all this, the group Indian Mujahideen, which claimed responsibility for the blasts, had the audacity to send an e-mail to various agencies and claim that they did all this in the name of Allah and this was what they claimed to be jihad. I mean, get real people! Do these fanatical idiots actually think anyone in his or her right mind will believe such crappy claims?! Even before Delhi, they had targeted cities like Bangalore, Jaipur and Hyderabad. This is anything but a Holy War.
When a bomb goes off, it kills without discretion of any kind; be it race, gender, cast, creed and even religion. So much for religious motivation! These losers sound more like pseudo fanatics for whom killing is business, nothing personal. And these are the people who bring a bad name to all the people who have true faith in the same religion as these ********. Seriously, what are these buggers trying to achieve? Panic? If that is what they want then I suggest that they get the message loud and clear…we shall not chicken away from leading a normal life because we are not scared. What we will do is hunt each of them down and shoot them point blank. Taking silence to be timidity is the biggest sign of being an absolute jackass. Look, all of you “jihadis” out there, remember that we have a whole lot of people in this country who love living a normal life and if you mess around with the common man too much, you’re dead meat. Do not try to trigger a dormant volcano because the heat may be too much for you to take. Understand? What kind of cowards are these people who sneak a bomb into a place and scamper away? Little kids who have nothing whatsoever to do with any kind of a war died in these blasts or were seriously injured! I mean, these people are outright psychotic.
Trust me, the day people of this country mean business, you will have nowhere to hide. It’s just a question of time. Don’t push us too hard. You want war? We will give it to you but tell me, can you cowards face it? A lot of you, I am sure are Indians yourselves. You have grown up in these very cities that you’re now trying to destroy! What the F have you done with your conscience and humanity, you lousy buggers?! There could have been your friends, classmates, teachers and relatives among the people who died.
Get it straight. Either you mend your ways or we will do the honours for you and the day we lose our cool, we will hit you so hard at places that hurt that all of you will be reduced to mere crippled vegetables. Just for once, come up and face us if you have the you-know-what. We all await you.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Friday, September 12, 2008
Missing a heartbeat
Alive I am, yet, not quite full of life
Like everyone, I breathe too
Yet somewhere, I am missing a heartbeat
A heartbeat that’s you…
The day passes, and night settles in
Yet another date on the calendar turns
But I still miss that heartbeat
A heartbeat that’s you…
To think with my heart I am told
I am told to give my mind a rest
But how do I think with a missing heartbeat?
A heartbeat that’s you…
Somewhere in this heart, your name resonates
Calling out to you aloud, hoping you’d hear
But silence greets this missing heartbeat
A heartbeat that’s you…
I sometimes wonder if I will live
One beat less than others do
Because I just can’t find that missing heartbeat
A heartbeat that’s you…
Like everyone, I breathe too
Yet somewhere, I am missing a heartbeat
A heartbeat that’s you…
The day passes, and night settles in
Yet another date on the calendar turns
But I still miss that heartbeat
A heartbeat that’s you…
To think with my heart I am told
I am told to give my mind a rest
But how do I think with a missing heartbeat?
A heartbeat that’s you…
Somewhere in this heart, your name resonates
Calling out to you aloud, hoping you’d hear
But silence greets this missing heartbeat
A heartbeat that’s you…
I sometimes wonder if I will live
One beat less than others do
Because I just can’t find that missing heartbeat
A heartbeat that’s you…
Monday, September 08, 2008
Teachers...
In my nearly 24 years of existence, I have been through the regular grind of school and college and have seen a lot of teachers. This post is in their honour and may just read a little different from the regular gibberish that I write.
My dad has been on the move throughout his career and every change of city meant a change of place, a change of schools and a change of life. Every change of schools brought along new opportunities, new challenges and new teachers. To be very honest, I never had the chance to be in one school for too long. So I do not remember all my teachers and my apologies to the ones whose names I have forgotten, but the learning has stayed on with me and I thank them for that. In a way, moving base repeatedly is a disadvantage because it means getting used to the teaching patterns of different teachers but then, in a way is has had its own advantages because I got to know a lot of people from different parts of the country with varying mindsets and opinions.
Though, in India, Teachers’ Day is celebrated in honour of Dr. Sarvapalli Radhakrishnan, one of the foremost teachers of he country and an ex-president of India but the true honour extends to every teacher throughout the world. I have come across various kinds of teachers in my life. In my student days, I met teachers who had faith in me and saw immense potential, teachers who told me I was good for nothing, teachers who tried bringing out the best in me my sheer encouragement and teachers who thought insults were the order of the day. I won’t deny that I didn’t like all my teachers. In fact, I immensely disliked some of them but they all added to my life in their own way.
For some reason, I have always had an affinity to my English teachers, except one. I guess somewhere it was the love for the language that made me perform better in their class. My chemistry with Chemistry wasn’t explosive but it wasn’t that bad either. History was something I always got muddled up with because I could never figure out who built what, who invaded which country and when, who was born when and definitely not who died when. Coming to Physics, we were always in harmonic motion and I actually liked the subject. Though, I remember, I could never understand back then that if light traveled in a straight line, then how light bulbs did and tubelights managed to light up a whole room! I could never quite get my linear equation right with Mathematics and I remember frowning at the very sight of that subject. But as I grew from school to college, the understanding increased a little.
Some of my teachers, I remember very clearly. I remember everything from their faces to their voices because they affected my life very deeply. Some for good and the others, well, no comments. Even today, there are people who teach me something I didn’t know and I guess this process of learning and teaching just goes on for everyone. Nevertheless, the base is built by the earliest of the teachers. Having said that, I remember my mom. She taught me a lot. And after all these years, she still hasn’t quite given up on her efforts to teach me. Amazing patience! Then of course, how can I forget this strange teacher called life?! It has been at it ever since I remember. Though I do not know how fruitful it has been.
In a nutshell, the process of learning and teaching are ceaseless and all of us keep jumping from one side to the other right from the cradle to the grave. The day one stops is the day one begins to wane. So keep learning, keep teaching and keep rocking.
Adios.
My dad has been on the move throughout his career and every change of city meant a change of place, a change of schools and a change of life. Every change of schools brought along new opportunities, new challenges and new teachers. To be very honest, I never had the chance to be in one school for too long. So I do not remember all my teachers and my apologies to the ones whose names I have forgotten, but the learning has stayed on with me and I thank them for that. In a way, moving base repeatedly is a disadvantage because it means getting used to the teaching patterns of different teachers but then, in a way is has had its own advantages because I got to know a lot of people from different parts of the country with varying mindsets and opinions.
Though, in India, Teachers’ Day is celebrated in honour of Dr. Sarvapalli Radhakrishnan, one of the foremost teachers of he country and an ex-president of India but the true honour extends to every teacher throughout the world. I have come across various kinds of teachers in my life. In my student days, I met teachers who had faith in me and saw immense potential, teachers who told me I was good for nothing, teachers who tried bringing out the best in me my sheer encouragement and teachers who thought insults were the order of the day. I won’t deny that I didn’t like all my teachers. In fact, I immensely disliked some of them but they all added to my life in their own way.
For some reason, I have always had an affinity to my English teachers, except one. I guess somewhere it was the love for the language that made me perform better in their class. My chemistry with Chemistry wasn’t explosive but it wasn’t that bad either. History was something I always got muddled up with because I could never figure out who built what, who invaded which country and when, who was born when and definitely not who died when. Coming to Physics, we were always in harmonic motion and I actually liked the subject. Though, I remember, I could never understand back then that if light traveled in a straight line, then how light bulbs did and tubelights managed to light up a whole room! I could never quite get my linear equation right with Mathematics and I remember frowning at the very sight of that subject. But as I grew from school to college, the understanding increased a little.
Some of my teachers, I remember very clearly. I remember everything from their faces to their voices because they affected my life very deeply. Some for good and the others, well, no comments. Even today, there are people who teach me something I didn’t know and I guess this process of learning and teaching just goes on for everyone. Nevertheless, the base is built by the earliest of the teachers. Having said that, I remember my mom. She taught me a lot. And after all these years, she still hasn’t quite given up on her efforts to teach me. Amazing patience! Then of course, how can I forget this strange teacher called life?! It has been at it ever since I remember. Though I do not know how fruitful it has been.
In a nutshell, the process of learning and teaching are ceaseless and all of us keep jumping from one side to the other right from the cradle to the grave. The day one stops is the day one begins to wane. So keep learning, keep teaching and keep rocking.
Adios.
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