Those unscrupulous minds will one day turn maudlin
You keep plowing on my lad, laughin'
You keep plowing on my lad, laughin'
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Monday, October 24, 2011
It will be sold
I sat on the fence for a long time, the whole of last year. So, after 6 years and 28 days, I am leaning towards selling it. My first bike, the kick start, non-alloy version of Honda Unicorn. I rode out of the showroom with my dad riding pillion, I had had no training on riding bikes. But, I had waited 18 years, during which I had obsessed over shifting gears by flicking my toes in the air, I had ridden one so many times in my mind that I needed none. So, I slipped it into first and slowly pulled away. Not a care in the world that I have never ridden in the peak evening traffic before. Not a care about anything at all.
A few months later, when the odometer read 4624 KM I took it out on the highway. Back then, the only hang out spot on the now crowded Mysore road was the Cafe Coffee Day at the 68th mile (KM) marker. Today, it resembles a crowded city main road. I never dropped below three digit figures on that entire trip, on a bone stock Unicorn (It came shod with 3.00x18 MRF zapper at the rear). With no Google maps or Wikimapia in those days, the only landmark I knew was, it was somewhere after Channapatna town. After seeing no signs of any Cafe Coffee Day even after crossing the town, I pulled to the side and rang a friend up.
Once back in town, I was pleasantly surprised to find that it had returned a whopping 48 to the liter even after caning it both ways. Be it filling up 1.2 liters of petrol for the only Rs.50 note I had in my pocket and setting off on a city tour, or filling exactly 4 liters of petrol to complete a round trip to Kolar, it was all done. "What if it ran dry somewhere? What if?" That was never a possibility, it wouldn't let me down. It never did. The serious craving for cornering also grew, I would become so elated for two days if I took a corner perfectly and hit the apex. I had a few favorite corners on all my routes, pegs were scraped often, today I will shy away from attempting those corners with such ferociousness.
I did many trips on it, way too many to recount all of them in one post. More than half of the entire running was done on highways and ring roads. I will recount only two of them.
The first one from a one day return trip to Mudumalai in the July of 2007. On our way back, shortly after Gundlupet, Santa's modified P180 threw in the towel. After an hour's failed effort to resurrect it, I and Praveen (another Unicorn rider) had to push home, it was getting dark A glance at the watch showed it was five minutes to six-thirty in the evening. We both started in a staggered formation, in torrential downpour, in the dark, two stock 35/35w Unicorn headlamps for illumination. His requests for butt breaks by flashing his headlamp went unheeded, I convinced him that we will rest for a while at Kamat Lokaruchi and eat something at the same time. Taking two breaks would slow us down, we made it into Kengeri by 9:45 in the night and it was still raining. Roughly, Gundlupet to Bangalore in about three hours, in the rain, in the dark with stock headlamps. I wouldn't even attempt it today.
The second one from the last day of the Jog/Gokarna ride on the Gandhi Jayanti of 2007. We had six bikes, two each of zmas, unicorns and thunderbirds and both 'birds carrying pillions. On the last day, the group split up, one zma, unicorn and 'bird deciding to skip the arduous two wheeled trek till Yana. The day began early, at 0500 in the morning we checked out of our hotel in Kumta and went to Yana forest check post. On our way down from Yana, we stopped over at Devraj's house (the only house on the trek route) for a sumptuous meal. He even tempted the others to stay back by enticing them with naati chicken delicacies. But, I had to head back home. So, by 1:30 in the afternoon we started from Yana forest check post. It was four in the evening when we hit the NH4 near Haveri and it started pouring (doh!). A short break at a Reliance A1 plaza near Ranebennur and patches of broken road around Davangere, four hours later we hit outskirts of Chitradurga. The guys started contemplating taking a room to crash for the night and continue in the morning, as it was still raining relentlessly. A quick call to the guys who had started ahead, we find out that they will be stopping for dinner after Tumkur. They were only a hundred odd kilometers ahead of us even after skipping Yana. So, I offered to ride solo till Tumkur where, I will regroup with the others by the time they finish dinner and continue from there, while these guys can find a hotel and continue the next day. But, it was decided not to split the group any further and we ploughed on. By ten in the night we made it to the Kamat at Dobbspet, some members of the first group were still gnawing on the last crumbs of their meal. I had a filling thali and went back home in a state of trance (I was extremely tired and sleepy as I had a heavy dinner, the only thing I could see was the tail lamp of the guy ahead of me). Close to 650 KMs in a single day (including a trek) in rains, I wouldn't attempt it ever again.
Its funny and ironic that all the roads I have listed in my five most awesome roads I have ridden on post were done on the Unicorn. I bought a zma wanting to get out of the city every weekend, while it has seen good mileage on the odometer, very few of those were churned on the highways. We make grand plans, we grow, we earn, we do a million things. But, nobody can really escape from pining for what we once had or did. The "Ah! those good old days" nostalgia will never spare anybody. Strange is the way of life.
As it's now evident, I can go on another two days recounting every kilometer logged astride the Unicorn. The (fond) memories associated with it are plenty. They are so deep rooted and far reaching. It now becomes obvious why I didn't sell it as soon as I got my second bike. Also, every time I consider selling it, what she said rings in my head
Well, she said many other things too. I have realized that it's not what you had but the experiences and stories they gave you that remain. This being the season for disassociating myself from everything I had grown attached to for the last five or six years, this being the time for moulting, it is only fair that the Unicorn should be sold!
Farewell girl, may you bear better glory to him than your former master!
A few months later, when the odometer read 4624 KM I took it out on the highway. Back then, the only hang out spot on the now crowded Mysore road was the Cafe Coffee Day at the 68th mile (KM) marker. Today, it resembles a crowded city main road. I never dropped below three digit figures on that entire trip, on a bone stock Unicorn (It came shod with 3.00x18 MRF zapper at the rear). With no Google maps or Wikimapia in those days, the only landmark I knew was, it was somewhere after Channapatna town. After seeing no signs of any Cafe Coffee Day even after crossing the town, I pulled to the side and rang a friend up.
Dude! Where is it? I have crossed the town.
It's after the town man, keep looking to your right. Are you going with her?
Yes!
Bugger! :P
Once back in town, I was pleasantly surprised to find that it had returned a whopping 48 to the liter even after caning it both ways. Be it filling up 1.2 liters of petrol for the only Rs.50 note I had in my pocket and setting off on a city tour, or filling exactly 4 liters of petrol to complete a round trip to Kolar, it was all done. "What if it ran dry somewhere? What if?" That was never a possibility, it wouldn't let me down. It never did. The serious craving for cornering also grew, I would become so elated for two days if I took a corner perfectly and hit the apex. I had a few favorite corners on all my routes, pegs were scraped often, today I will shy away from attempting those corners with such ferociousness.
I did many trips on it, way too many to recount all of them in one post. More than half of the entire running was done on highways and ring roads. I will recount only two of them.
The first one from a one day return trip to Mudumalai in the July of 2007. On our way back, shortly after Gundlupet, Santa's modified P180 threw in the towel. After an hour's failed effort to resurrect it, I and Praveen (another Unicorn rider) had to push home, it was getting dark A glance at the watch showed it was five minutes to six-thirty in the evening. We both started in a staggered formation, in torrential downpour, in the dark, two stock 35/35w Unicorn headlamps for illumination. His requests for butt breaks by flashing his headlamp went unheeded, I convinced him that we will rest for a while at Kamat Lokaruchi and eat something at the same time. Taking two breaks would slow us down, we made it into Kengeri by 9:45 in the night and it was still raining. Roughly, Gundlupet to Bangalore in about three hours, in the rain, in the dark with stock headlamps. I wouldn't even attempt it today.
The second one from the last day of the Jog/Gokarna ride on the Gandhi Jayanti of 2007. We had six bikes, two each of zmas, unicorns and thunderbirds and both 'birds carrying pillions. On the last day, the group split up, one zma, unicorn and 'bird deciding to skip the arduous two wheeled trek till Yana. The day began early, at 0500 in the morning we checked out of our hotel in Kumta and went to Yana forest check post. On our way down from Yana, we stopped over at Devraj's house (the only house on the trek route) for a sumptuous meal. He even tempted the others to stay back by enticing them with naati chicken delicacies. But, I had to head back home. So, by 1:30 in the afternoon we started from Yana forest check post. It was four in the evening when we hit the NH4 near Haveri and it started pouring (doh!). A short break at a Reliance A1 plaza near Ranebennur and patches of broken road around Davangere, four hours later we hit outskirts of Chitradurga. The guys started contemplating taking a room to crash for the night and continue in the morning, as it was still raining relentlessly. A quick call to the guys who had started ahead, we find out that they will be stopping for dinner after Tumkur. They were only a hundred odd kilometers ahead of us even after skipping Yana. So, I offered to ride solo till Tumkur where, I will regroup with the others by the time they finish dinner and continue from there, while these guys can find a hotel and continue the next day. But, it was decided not to split the group any further and we ploughed on. By ten in the night we made it to the Kamat at Dobbspet, some members of the first group were still gnawing on the last crumbs of their meal. I had a filling thali and went back home in a state of trance (I was extremely tired and sleepy as I had a heavy dinner, the only thing I could see was the tail lamp of the guy ahead of me). Close to 650 KMs in a single day (including a trek) in rains, I wouldn't attempt it ever again.
Its funny and ironic that all the roads I have listed in my five most awesome roads I have ridden on post were done on the Unicorn. I bought a zma wanting to get out of the city every weekend, while it has seen good mileage on the odometer, very few of those were churned on the highways. We make grand plans, we grow, we earn, we do a million things. But, nobody can really escape from pining for what we once had or did. The "Ah! those good old days" nostalgia will never spare anybody. Strange is the way of life.
As it's now evident, I can go on another two days recounting every kilometer logged astride the Unicorn. The (fond) memories associated with it are plenty. They are so deep rooted and far reaching. It now becomes obvious why I didn't sell it as soon as I got my second bike. Also, every time I consider selling it, what she said rings in my head
We will never sell this bike, this is our first bike. I will never let you sell it. We will keep it forever!
Well, she said many other things too. I have realized that it's not what you had but the experiences and stories they gave you that remain. This being the season for disassociating myself from everything I had grown attached to for the last five or six years, this being the time for moulting, it is only fair that the Unicorn should be sold!
Farewell girl, may you bear better glory to him than your former master!
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Soap
All soapy and lathered
A million times scrubbed
Viscera tattered, blue and gray
Will somebody make it go away?
A million times scrubbed
Viscera tattered, blue and gray
Will somebody make it go away?
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Stranger
No Stranger to this
Not unknown to that
Got this, that, the other
and everything in between
in the bag,
Ain't no stranger to nothing at all
Hmmm, strange how it all
filled up my bag
Not unknown to that
Got this, that, the other
and everything in between
in the bag,
Ain't no stranger to nothing at all
Hmmm, strange how it all
filled up my bag
Monday, October 17, 2011
Axiom 1
The angle of rotation made by the buttocks about an axis running along the length of the person while he/she is walking is directly proportional to the amount of fat they are carrying on them.
What? BMI? This is more accurate no?
Sunday, October 16, 2011
We are new generation
It's a joyous event to ride in the city during weekends and yesterday night was no different. Near Trinity circle I spotted a red DL-7S registered pulsar with a girl riding pillion. She was wearing a green top, a pair of brown shorts, a pair of red shoes and two dozen (I am not exaggerating) red glass bangles on each hand. While I was thinking "this is fusion at its best" my sight fell on the unobstructed view of her butt crack, thanks to the split rear grab rail design from Bajaj. After making sure my mind wasn't playing tricks on me, I tried getting away. Trust me I truly did. But the guy made sure that I don't overtake him by deftly moving into my (slower) line and adeptly blocking me. He wouldn't hurt his ego by letting people pass him, but it was already cracking (sorry for the pun) at the back.
After the first few attempts, I just sat back and started wondering why women these days put their hands up and subject themselves to these things? While I have no qualms about what women wear, what worries me and it is something that I most certainly don't agree with, is their reason. They think it makes them modern. Why are they kidding themselves to smithereens by thinking shrinking their clothes will make them modern? Au Contraire isn't it already done to death by our forefathers millions of years ago, they roamed bare naked no? Modernity to me, is gauged by how well your brain and thought process has developed, it's up in the head. One's knowledge of the world, common sense and an understanding of how things around them work is what makes one modern. The mean IQ of humanity should take a bump, that's how the world will advance, that's how we will move ahead as a society.
I have never met a girl who is passionate about something and wanted to change the world with her ideas, not one. Why still take the age old path of finding someone rich and gullible to marry? Why still shy away from physical labor? I am not talking about the wage workers, I know they haul mud, cement and bricks. Why hide behind "I am a girl" for somethings and proclaim "What if I am a girl?" to others? Why do they lap up anything new served to them and fall prey to mob culture? I know it is wrong of me to generalize and publish such an acerbic post targeting them. But, may be my viewport is aimed at the wrong end of the sample space at the moment, or may be it's something else.
The unfortunate truth is women have always been objects of eye candy and they are evolving themselves to continue to be the eye candy objects in a world modernized by men. The lady would probably embrace Karva Chauth after getting back home. They should get their collective shit in order. Modernity is achieved by shrinking clothes and strutting assets around? what a load of tripe!
Anyway, I had grown bored of the alpha-male's antics and the lady's posterior. So I dropped a cog and opened the throttle. I imagined a few choicest expletives uttered to the back of the helmet for finally hurting his ego. As the bike caught air over some undulations on the road under the Domlur Fly-over, I let a few expletives of my own out for him to pay the state road tax. Ah, the joys of weekend motoring!
After the first few attempts, I just sat back and started wondering why women these days put their hands up and subject themselves to these things? While I have no qualms about what women wear, what worries me and it is something that I most certainly don't agree with, is their reason. They think it makes them modern. Why are they kidding themselves to smithereens by thinking shrinking their clothes will make them modern? Au Contraire isn't it already done to death by our forefathers millions of years ago, they roamed bare naked no? Modernity to me, is gauged by how well your brain and thought process has developed, it's up in the head. One's knowledge of the world, common sense and an understanding of how things around them work is what makes one modern. The mean IQ of humanity should take a bump, that's how the world will advance, that's how we will move ahead as a society.
I have never met a girl who is passionate about something and wanted to change the world with her ideas, not one. Why still take the age old path of finding someone rich and gullible to marry? Why still shy away from physical labor? I am not talking about the wage workers, I know they haul mud, cement and bricks. Why hide behind "I am a girl" for somethings and proclaim "What if I am a girl?" to others? Why do they lap up anything new served to them and fall prey to mob culture? I know it is wrong of me to generalize and publish such an acerbic post targeting them. But, may be my viewport is aimed at the wrong end of the sample space at the moment, or may be it's something else.
The unfortunate truth is women have always been objects of eye candy and they are evolving themselves to continue to be the eye candy objects in a world modernized by men. The lady would probably embrace Karva Chauth after getting back home. They should get their collective shit in order. Modernity is achieved by shrinking clothes and strutting assets around? what a load of tripe!
Anyway, I had grown bored of the alpha-male's antics and the lady's posterior. So I dropped a cog and opened the throttle. I imagined a few choicest expletives uttered to the back of the helmet for finally hurting his ego. As the bike caught air over some undulations on the road under the Domlur Fly-over, I let a few expletives of my own out for him to pay the state road tax. Ah, the joys of weekend motoring!
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Five most awesome roads I have ridden on
- Munnar to Kumily: This stretch of road, about 110km if my memory serves me right, is truly surreal. I did this just on the back of the monsoon season (but there is no such thing as monsoon in Kerala, is there?). Narrow road, strewn with loose stones sometimes, gets fogged up completely even in the afternoon, near zero visibility, with many small waterfalls and streams along the way, tea estates, the fresh mountain air. Absolute delight.
- Sagara to Honnavara: Another stretch that is very similar to the Munnar-Kumily road minus the tea plantation and multitude of waterfalls. This was again done in Monsoon season, the road was freshly laid. It started raining and when it subsided, it would completely get fogged, we did a text book group ride maintaining speeds of 60+ kmph on the twisting ghat road. The tail lamp of the bike ahead of you is all you can see and that is all you have for reference on the blinding corners and hairpins. If the rider ahead of you leaves his right indicator blinking after he overtakes a car/bus that means you are clear to overtake as well, and you leave your right indicator on for the one behind you to know if he can pass as well. If the rider ahead immediately switches to his left indicator after the overtaking, it means it's not safe enough for you to overtake just yet. When I say Sagara to Honnavara, I basically mean Talaguppa to Honnavara.
- Kumta to Sirsi: Through Devimane ghats, well surfaced roads and banked corners, very little and well behaved traffic, need I say more?
- Nanjangud to Mudumulai: This is one of the stretches I hold very close to my heart, even though it's a national highway (part of NH212) there is no divider and the traffic can be unruly. Especially the volvos and other state government buses overtaking each other that push you off the road and on to the (non existent) hard shoulder. This road can be called a widow maker if you are not careful enough, but I absolutely love this stretch and can never tire of it.
- Up Yana trekking route: In monsoon, riddled with slush, it would have been a challenge to even trek in those conditions. The slush would just make the tyres sink a half feet the minute you entered, not to mention the leeches. It was a mental thing to do and I absolutely loved it.
Five things you didn't know about me
As I was writing the zma blog, my mind re-winded back to when I was 2-3 years old and how the whole motorcycle and auto love started. Well, I actually don't know how it began per se, but I can just list few things that show it all started pretty early. And the five things I am listing here aren't only about motorcycles or cars.
- When I was 2-3 years old, I would stand at the front door of the house and listen to the exhaust notes of the bikes passing in front of the house. Obviously I was too short to look over the compound wall and also back in those days the exhaust notes could be heard from quite some distance away, thanks to fewer vehicles and lesser sound pollution. So, I used to play this game with myself, I had designated different spots in the garden to go and stand in depending on the sounds I heard. The rules were simple I have to stand in the right spot before the bike reaches the main gate, and once the bike reaches the main gate I could see and validate if I was right or wrong. I would always get things 100% right. KB100, RX100, AX100, CD100, Bullet, Yezdi etc etc. And just for the record, my favorite bike back then was KB100 followed by the RX100.
- Until I was 5-6 years old, my dad had to write a new car/bike/vehicle diagram on the wall in front of my bed. I would then think about it and fall asleep. It had to be a new diagram every day (obviously the diagrams would repeat after some days) and they had to (at least) look like the actual model. Maruti 800s, Contessas, Ambassadors, Fiat 1100Ds, Omnis were written a countless times.
- On the first day of my school I got a chocolate for correcting the teacher that a Bus has 6 tyres and not 4.
- On the same day, I was dropped off at a different place (pretty far away from my stop) by the school bus in the evening. I tracked my way back home with the help of some vague recollections of store names and landmarks. The sense of direction is still evident :D
- I don't like volume control or any measurement readout set to an odd value, I always end up changing it to even numbers.
The zma turns one
The Zma turned one year old a few days ago and with 13,300 kilometers on the odometer, it has been an eventful year. But my only gripe is most of it was logged within the city. I haven't been able to sample the highways as often as I had hoped to when I bought the bike. The appalling thing is, I have never clicked a single picture of the bike since I bought it. Not on the day I took delivery, not afterwards, not ever. I don't have a single picture! Also, I have never bothered accurately keeping track of the fuel consumption, I did check it a couple of times and found (to my utter surprise) that it is returning 38-40kmpl! I have kept it absolutely bone stock, although it is becoming evidently clear that the tyres are perilously hopeless, especially after thirteen thousand kilometers. I don't know which ones to go for, I am an absolute Michelin M45 fanboy, but is there something in tubeless that is equally awesome?
I lust after many bikes, I have a huge list of bikes and scooters that I would like to own one day. I am pretty sure many of them will never be ticked off that list. But, every day I find myself getting back to the zma and I find no reason to have another bike from utility point of view, it does everything you could ask of it and with such aplomb! Each time I slot it into first and pull out, I invariably tell myself (and I have done it on every single day over the last one year) it is more important to have the time and energy to ride than to sit around wiping the dust off a dozen bikes, bikes that hardly see a few hundred kilometers on the odometer throughout the year. But nonetheless it is my dream to build a collection of my own some day.
Getting back to the zma, after two Hondas, I am a Honda fan for life. To borrow a concept from a Honda advertisement "it loves you back" really. I will end with a popular quote for good measure.
I lust after many bikes, I have a huge list of bikes and scooters that I would like to own one day. I am pretty sure many of them will never be ticked off that list. But, every day I find myself getting back to the zma and I find no reason to have another bike from utility point of view, it does everything you could ask of it and with such aplomb! Each time I slot it into first and pull out, I invariably tell myself (and I have done it on every single day over the last one year) it is more important to have the time and energy to ride than to sit around wiping the dust off a dozen bikes, bikes that hardly see a few hundred kilometers on the odometer throughout the year. But nonetheless it is my dream to build a collection of my own some day.
Getting back to the zma, after two Hondas, I am a Honda fan for life. To borrow a concept from a Honda advertisement "it loves you back" really. I will end with a popular quote for good measure.
You meet the nicest people on a Honda !
Friday, October 14, 2011
What do we name it?
Call it my naivete for believing it would be done; Call it your naivete for believing it could be done.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Peeping through holes
You often peep into holes and see great things and your face lights up. Often, you also get kicked in the back of the head when you have knelt down and have your eye to the hole. You get up, smile and walk away. You must walk away not because what you saw through the hole didn't matter, but because your bruised eye can still see and function perfectly fine.
Monday, October 10, 2011
What?
Going from being a person who encouraged somebody to climb a ladder to a person who kicks the ladder when that somebody is halfway up
From feeding a dog to pelting stones at it.
To actually feel happy and have a sense of achievement about it?
To feel a fallen fruit can be reattached by being angry at the tree.
To believe all this matters when the crux is exposed?
What on Earth makes people turn into such remarkable assholes?
From feeding a dog to pelting stones at it.
To actually feel happy and have a sense of achievement about it?
To feel a fallen fruit can be reattached by being angry at the tree.
To believe all this matters when the crux is exposed?
What on Earth makes people turn into such remarkable assholes?
Thursday, October 06, 2011
The shoes
Bereft of the comfort of a pair of shoes, so what?
The feet do not cower from the treacherous terrain
No sight of the destination today, so what?
The eyes won't stop squinting at the horizon
Forsake by the shadow even, so bloody what?
The mind never tires of conjuring one
The feet do not cower from the treacherous terrain
No sight of the destination today, so what?
The eyes won't stop squinting at the horizon
Forsake by the shadow even, so bloody what?
The mind never tires of conjuring one
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
The Temple
Upon your whim, oh deity
I erected the temple in stone
To please you God almighty
Mortar bought on loan
Faith shattered
It stands desecrated
Prayers unwatered
Walls lacerated
What God be you that flees?
Ashamed of your fragile sanctity
Greedy divine eye only sees
Sacrificial animals with no pity
I erected the temple in stone
To please you God almighty
Mortar bought on loan
Faith shattered
It stands desecrated
Prayers unwatered
Walls lacerated
What God be you that flees?
Ashamed of your fragile sanctity
Greedy divine eye only sees
Sacrificial animals with no pity
Saturday, September 24, 2011
The face is off the book
There is one goal for every man. To stay ahead of the rear wheel of a BMTC Volvo. The amount of dust they can kick up out of nowhere is amazing! On the last Monday, after being stuck in an enormous jam in the morning and sitting behind a Volvo for a bit, I had to do it. I deleted my facebook account. I am having no withdrawal symptoms, true my head would instruct my hand to open a new browser tab and key in facebook in the address bar. But it only happened a couple of times and I would always realize that I no longer had an account. I would instead redirect myself to more interesting places like Poonam Pandey's new website and scare myself to pieces. (If the poorly done photos don't scare you, the punchline definitely will)
So, what makes a grown man delete his most treasured social network account? It's not the Volvo bus, it had to be something more grave, deeper and far reaching. It must have been the Monday morning.
NB: You can follow my rants on twitterspace. I go around as @krishnachethan
So, what makes a grown man delete his most treasured social network account? It's not the Volvo bus, it had to be something more grave, deeper and far reaching. It must have been the Monday morning.
NB: You can follow my rants on twitterspace. I go around as @krishnachethan
Thursday, September 22, 2011
The Door
Tell me, what is behind that door?
The one you opened down the hallway
Is there a fountain of youth?
A highway to the tallest peak?
Are the grassfields blue?
And the water a candy pink?
But tell me, what made you sell your soul?
For a key made from my collar bone
The one you opened down the hallway
Is there a fountain of youth?
A highway to the tallest peak?
Are the grassfields blue?
And the water a candy pink?
But tell me, what made you sell your soul?
For a key made from my collar bone
Sunday, September 18, 2011
The happy mask
Fishing takes its own time
Going after the aquarium
Isn't what I envisaged for you
Nowadays often under my happy mask
I catch myself smiling
You really think it was a victory for you?
Going after the aquarium
Isn't what I envisaged for you
Nowadays often under my happy mask
I catch myself smiling
You really think it was a victory for you?
Monday, March 21, 2011
The ultimate answer, to the ultimate question of the universe, the life and everything!
The answer my friends is 42, here is how! The world is just a swarm of people who are constantly fighting with themselves to become what they are not. The young wanting to be old, the old wanting to be young. The thin wanting to be fat, the fat wanting to be thin. The famous wanting to be unknown, the unknown wanting to be famous. The religious wanting to be non religious, the non religious wanting to be religious. The smoker wanting to quit, some one else wanting to pick it up. So on and so forth.
There is always another person getting into the position you are getting out of. This equilibrium is what keeps the Earth going round! Its just a torrent of people flowing to the other bank with a glimmer of hope that they can afford a better view of the big picture from there, only to realize that its not all song and dance there either. When they find out that its the same movie playing there too, they decide to flow to another location yet again hoping for a better view. Nobody ever learns, what you are seeing now is "the picture", the only picture there is to be seen. Yet, it is this very hope that keeps lives ticking! You are compelled to put yourself through the futile exercise of confirming for yourself that there isn't a place with another movie playing.
Now, 42 is the point where one realizes that there is only one movie and makes peace with himself and mellows down. People beyond 42 reflect back on all the time they wasted trying to come to terms with such a simply fact and whinge about all the scenes they missed when they were moving around, while the other half of the equilibrium are in a delirium to find their 42. What is this 42 you ask? Its your seat for the movie my friend, find one sit back, crack open a soda and enjoy. Some say its 42 because its nine times six. Six and Nine being the the two opposites (in every sense of the word), the yin-yang. I really wouldn't know! :)
There is always another person getting into the position you are getting out of. This equilibrium is what keeps the Earth going round! Its just a torrent of people flowing to the other bank with a glimmer of hope that they can afford a better view of the big picture from there, only to realize that its not all song and dance there either. When they find out that its the same movie playing there too, they decide to flow to another location yet again hoping for a better view. Nobody ever learns, what you are seeing now is "the picture", the only picture there is to be seen. Yet, it is this very hope that keeps lives ticking! You are compelled to put yourself through the futile exercise of confirming for yourself that there isn't a place with another movie playing.
Now, 42 is the point where one realizes that there is only one movie and makes peace with himself and mellows down. People beyond 42 reflect back on all the time they wasted trying to come to terms with such a simply fact and whinge about all the scenes they missed when they were moving around, while the other half of the equilibrium are in a delirium to find their 42. What is this 42 you ask? Its your seat for the movie my friend, find one sit back, crack open a soda and enjoy. Some say its 42 because its nine times six. Six and Nine being the the two opposites (in every sense of the word), the yin-yang. I really wouldn't know! :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)