Coffee and books.

There's no coffee here. There're no books either. But doesn't it give out coffee-ish and book-ish vibes? It does, na? So intoxicating, this place. Its CEPT ka campus.

Bliss.

Eyes of blue, bluish skies.
Those that know not yet, of lies.
Inflict wounds on sinful mine.
Yes, wounds; red, wet and brine.

:) and not :|

So what if I don't get to travel on my Thump this time? I'm still traveling na. Its the wind on face and all those things that matter, no?

Why?

Cynthia: God, don't you ever feel like everything we do and everything we've been taught is just to service the future?
Tony: Yeah I know, like it's all preparation.
Cynthia: Right. But what are we preparing ourselves for?
Mike: Death.
Tony: Life of the party.
Mike: It's true.
Cynthia: You know, but that's valid because if we are all gonna die anyway shouldn't we be enjoying ourselves now? You know, I'd like to quit thinking of the present, like right now, as some minor insignificant preamble to something else.
- Dazed and Confused.

It was one of those days when it's a minute away from snowing and there's this electricity in the air, you can almost hear it. And this bag was, like, dancing with me. Like a little kid begging me to play with it. For fifteen minutes. And that's the day I knew there was this entire life behind things, and... this incredibly benevolent force, that wanted me to know there was no reason to be afraid, ever. Video's a poor excuse, I know. But it helps me remember... and I need to remember... Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I can't take it, like my heart's going to cave in.
- Ricky Fitts, American Beauty.

Roamer, wanderer
Nomad, vagabond
Call me what you will.
- Wherever I may roam, Metallica.

Nothing of this is important. Nothing at all. The useless study material we need to go through before the exams. Thick books filled to the brim with formulae which I'm sure we're never going to use again. All of it is a waste of time. All of it. I'm surprised such people exist. People who believe that remembering the ten principles of material handling can make one a better engineer. Knowing the Bresenhem code for a point inside a rectangle doesn't make a man a better person. I know a few who can tell you the log of 46 without opening the log-book, but inform them of an awesome weather outside with thoughts of getting out and roaming around playing in your head and they'll stare at you with questioning looks. Summers are no different from winters for them except that they feel more sleepy in winters which affects the number of hours they can study for at a stretch, which in turn affects their pointer. Jobs don't make sense. They just rob you of your intelligence. They put you in a cubicle, give you a chair to sit on and a computer to do their pointless work on. Some say the ultimate aim of any human being is to earn, reproduce, and settle down. But is it? We're habitants of a planet revolving around a huge hot mass. We're on a planet that has had the fortune of having life on it. Not ordinary life. Life like us. Complex beings. We're on one huge planet. The ground beneath our feet is full of brown dirt, yellow sand, and grey roads. Isn't there enough to explore and see and observe? Instead of all the awesomeness that we should be enlightening ourselves of, we keep busy trying to meet expectations. Expectations that our parents burden us with. We prefer not to be burdened. But, owing to the genetic bondage, we have to. Twenty years gone. Poof. Twenty years, which makes it more than 5000 days. And just one day can make one high, high on all the beauty in this world, and enough to be inspired. If fame and money makes more sense than personal satisfaction, then it sucks. I'm sick of being shouted at for not studying. Not remembering utterly useless stuff, if I may. I hate to think of an entity other than myself as being in control of my own fate. Why can't I just hit the road when I want to? There's just so much of beauty around, that I hate doing the things that I'm wasting time in doing. For every minute spent in thinking about the ways I can clear an exam the next day, I'm wasting a minute of awesome weather and open roads. I know I'm going to end up walking on the same road as most do, but I would like to differ.

Click,
and the key's in.
Turn,
and gear light's green.
Kick,
and The Thump's alive.

Charcoal and Blue.

I wanted to freeze time. I wanted to savor that moment, to live in that moment for a week. But I couldn't stop it, only slow it. And before I knew it, she was gone. After the door closed I felt like the last person on Earth.
- Ben Willis, Cashback.

If I was an artist, I would wanna sketch this Zooey chick. I would first sketch her in charcoal. I would then colour her eyes blue. Just her eyes. And I would leave it at that.




Sorry, these pics aren't exactly wallpaper material. Its all seek + print-screen.

I wanted to include more pics. The movie's full of such moments when one just can't decide whether to feel sad or happy. Even the pics I've added. I wasn't able to make my mind up. The scenes, these two, were totally Feel Sad. I wanted to, but all that music suggested otherwise. Beautiful's the word.

Two of my favorite scenes. Two of my favorite moments.

And the soundtrack! Man!

Echoes.

I feel so liquid.

Listen to the Pompeii version. And feel liquid.

Its, by far, the best, the strongest and the quickest musical drug I've tripped on.

If you do decide to give it a shot, watch too. Don't just listen. Download a good print, get high, somehow. Lack of sleep, booze, somehow. And then, listen. And watch.

EDIT 1 : Btw, Echoes is that song that's awesome and all. First song of the concert it is.

Return of the M-man.

Two days ago, which makes it four days, just four days, before the project presentation, we decided our topic. And to exacerbate things, the net in the hostel, and college for that matter, stopped working. The firewall crashed they say. That's not all. Our project guide, who's a big ignoramus in almost any topic under the sun, disappeared suddenly. A few days back, I had asked him for his number as he was our guide and all, to which he was, if I am not mistaken, surprised. I have no clue why, but whatever the reason was, was valid enough for him to give me his fake number. So, we continued with the topic we had earlier decided, which was vast enough to give us the heebie jeebies. That, we should have realized much much much earlier. But we didn't. This forced us to seek shelter in nearby net-cafes. Now, there are two of them. One is never empty and the other has PCs slower than Babbage's original. I could have gone to far off net-cafes but I didn't wanna waste money on petrol. And that would've been unnecessary petrol-use, no? So I stuck to the neolithic net-cafe. Never have I googled so severely and well, desperately, for something, anything that might give us some clue, any clue, to help us move further. Or rather, start. Again, dead end. There were hardly any results of any use to us and those that were of some relevance, were papers which had to be bought off the site to view completely. We did have one e-book that had helped us a bit but we had scrutinized it to the last detail and enough to not find any new info. Then, to worsen things, we heard about internal tests. Four tests(!!!), ten marks each(!!! ^ !!!), scheduled for the same day as the the day we have our project presentation on. We then paid a certain professor a brief visit to see if he had anything that might be of any help to us. Murphy never misses a chance. The professor informed us that the thing we were looking for was difficult, no, impossible to find on the net, and he had his reasons which we found quite logical. To top it all off, two professors, who are quite a scare and were not supposed to be in the panel for that day, crashed the first-batch seminar session and gave almost every group the %$#@hole, which psyched us out with the new possibility of the same two professors attending our seminar.

My brain shuts down when stuff like this happens. With no clue what to do, I usually stop working. Its my style of saying Fuck All That. Withdrawal symptoms. The cycle repeats itself every time a few days before any deadline. Parabolic in nature if plotted (brainpower against time), it starts with the arrival of information which initially does not deliver the effect. I continue not working. A day or two later, I start realizing the gravity of it all. I start working. Gradually, brainpower changes to turbo-mode. As the deadline approaches, something goes wrong and the brain-meter starts going haywire. Now, all that load, all that work, and tenfold of what it was earlier, the brain can't handle, can it? So it retires to normal-mode again and I end up watching a movie instead.

4 days before the deadline :

“Don't worry man. Ours will be the best presentation.”

“Wait! I have an e-book. We'll use that. It has all the info we need.”

“Movie?”

3 days before the deadline :

“Don't worry man. We won't get a re-do.”

“Dude. This e-book's useless.”

“Can you think of any other topic?”

“Fuck the movie man. Lets work.”

2 days before deadline :

“I don't want a re-do man!”

“This e-book rocks man! Lets make as many slides as we can with as much bullshit as we can find.”

“Don't worry. Our topic itself is fucking impressive. They'll like it.”

1 day before the deadline :

“Argh!”

“Movie?”