Eye to an I...

I love I

No no, I am not a narcissist. The very letter ‘I’ rings numerous bells in my mind.

I can be Intelligent; many people in this ruddy world are of the opinion-Intelligence counts a lot. Ruddy or bloody? Well yes! But remember today it comes with cruelty. Despotism??? Trying to conquer the world, coming up with an intelligent sophisticated scheme or a nasty thought of being the lone one in this world, extreme ways of vilification is the most happening thing in front of our eye. Bombings huh!!! Why aren’t we at peace?

I can be Ignorant; there are heedless people in this world. What goes on around one is never a thought provoking point! They never show signs of ‘sense’. Probably that’s one reason why the former I takes stage. We have become that Insensible & Insensitive. Strange enough, the I in intelligent still gives birth to several other Is.

I (pardon! It’s ‘me’ this time) pity girls who are left Ignorant after a ball of great time with their boyfriends. I just realized Ignorance comes out of Indisposition. Right? Girls, find some Imperturbable guys!

I can be any damn thing in this world. Think about F. Harsh words??? Let’s try to be soft then.

Let the eyes look at some good Is.

Irenic!!!

U Turn!

U and ME…

You must be wondering what is ‘U and ME’… No this is not a romanticized piece of writing but a writing of gloom and first big failure.

U and ME, the U in Unlucky and Unfortunate and ME, the ME in myself. Looks like they can never really be detached.

Two weeks of work and one decision put me a million steps behind the ones who are ahead. Serious amount of planning and scheduling, sincere work to make my skills count and everything duly thought proved to be a big setback. The very point questions my self-belief and ability. Is being rightly confident that dangerous?

I failed to grab an opportunity in my college which would ensure an educative career.I wished this day was a dream.I pinched myself only to feel the pain. 'No, i wasn't dreaming'. And now I’m left with one option – WORK HARD TO SCREW THE dash out…

U and ME: hope it is Unworried and ME.

Dolts!

NUTS & dOLTS

‘Get the keys, let’s hit the road!’

What you see on the road is not a bunch of commonsensical gentlemen, each driving a luxurious X-trail or a go fida, but a bunch of fools decrepit to such an extent that the thought of reformulating the laws takes a serious setback. And it doesn’t take great pains to see such a scenario. We are in India, aren’t we?

Everyman in this working world owns a car. Even a decently paid man owns a small car or a two-wheeler. Pictures of teenagers (well under the legal age of 18) driving heavy cars with hardly any knowledge of safety is not queer. Drive, keeping yourself and also the queer person in mind. If that unknown, unwritten and hidden coordination between the two doesn’t exist, then give way to destiny.

We boast of a zillion educational institutions coming up in the country and more so in states like ours (Andhra Pradesh), colleges which promise to deliver quality education; ‘give your child the learning edge; we make your child grow better.’ Instead they become centers of oodles of fun, definitely not the epicenters of education. What’s the point in gaining such knowledge when the very basics of living are still left untaught? Or are we of the conception that it should be a matter of common sense?

The point to be made is clear. Let’s rip the people off their right to drive. Let the illegitimate driving licenses be confiscated. Let us start afresh. We can’t run the risk of letting our lives off the noose; we have driven ourselves to such an extent.

Let the keys open the locks of ignorance. Let us rebuild ourselves to be perspicacious. Don’t let the Sciolist be the traffic police. Let the world observe that we do observe.

Life is at stake.

My finest piece of art yet...

My fav detective,my fav author,my FAV drawing!
a piece of art by-Rajeev Turlapati

Hercule Poirot,the greatest detective of all time created by Agatha Christie.I found this pic on a book i have '50 short stories featuring Hercule Poirot', Christie's earliest works written for newspapers. i drew it with an ordinary pencil and phew! that shade was such a task! a very old drawing of mine.my blog is new,so wanted to show this to you all.
Please comment!

Envoy

The Envoy: Heart or Mind?

Brain is the thinking centre in the entire human (living) system. To put it plainly, it is the prime controlling centre. All our actions, thoughts are generated, processed and even the decision to put it in audible words is made by the brain. I’m on an illiterate platform to write about the brain. All I know is this: Brain is one greatest piece of technology ever created by God. You’ll know yourself what unimaginable things the brain can do. There’s never an ennui getting your hands on the brain.

One question that still remains in the sunless background- ‘Why do people say feelings are generated in the Heart rather than the Brain?’

I’m always at a loss when I think about feelings. ‘I pity him’, ‘I love her’, ‘I wanna kill that nitpicker’, and ‘how I admire that guy!' All these feelings arise from the mind? Or is it the heart? Is the mind same as the brain?

Often we hear people say ‘He’s kind at heart’, ‘He’s such a stone hearted person’, ‘He has a soft heart’. How about saying ‘He’s kind at mind’, ‘He has a mind as hard as a stone’. Doesn’t sound soft, does it?

Well, over the years of evolution we have accepted what stood as a standard. Few of us have made an attempt to make a change. We have failed to identify the roots of our feelings.

So which one’s the true and honest Envoy of our feelings?

C’mon let’s not equivocate.

Sweet Memories!

A Walk in to the Past!

A blink of the eye is mighty powerful. If you want to keep things unchanged, then be a fish. Just when you lie down and try to recollect something that has happened in the day, one of your friends buzzes you. Most of us are nocturnal aren’t we? We sit through the nights chatting endlessly with friends. For this day I wanted to be a fish. For once I really didn’t want a change in old things.

I had to attend a TIME seminar today on ‘test taking strategies’. When I got back home, Vineeth (my family/childhood friend) called me up for lunch. I was actually waiting to go there. I didn’t waste a minute and within the blink of an eye I got there.

Much to my surprise some of my other family/childhood friends were already there. I was just so excited to see them after so many years. All of us lived in the same apartments for more than 10yrs. We studied in the same school. It was reunion of four (3 boys and a girl). The boys are a little younger to me while the girl is of my age.

We sat together, watched ‘The terminal’ movie (starring my fave Tom Hanks), had lunch and chatted for hours together recollecting all our old memories. We teased each other, shared our happiness and blah blah….. Vineeth then showed me BITS magazine. I was thrilled to see my name in the ‘acknowledgements’ sectionJ. The magazine had amazing articles and it was flawlessly crafted by Arun, whom Vineeth referred to as the ‘God of English’. He truly is, for his ‘Giridhara’ and the editor’s page.

After the discussion on the magazine and life in BITS, Vineeth played the ‘Kingdom of Heaven’ DVD. Half way through, I got up and said ‘let’s go to DAV public school’ where I studied till fourth standard. We were upset we weren’t allowed to see the entire place. We then decided to relive all those ten years. We went to our apartments. Everything changed; the colony, the apartment, the surroundings. There were huge grounds where we played cricket and ‘catch me if you can’. None exists now. I was disappointed to see more and more buildings, congested lanes and piles of garbage. Nevertheless the very sight of the apartments made memories fresh.

Two of my friends left early. I spent a little more time chatting with Vineeth. I gave him some words of advice on how to prepare for exams and take part in as many activities as possible in BITS keeping a good academic record. I thanked my aunt for a yummy lunch and got back home. I closed my eyes and recollected, yet again, all the moments spent today and then.

What a memorable walk in to the past!

**********

I’m sorry, I’m very bad at narrating events of the past. So the above piece might look below average in terms of language. I only wanted to put my thoughts on paper more than writing in good English.

**********

A Geek's fair!

THIRD EYE!!!

Fact n fiction

Being a technophile always doesn’t help. I mean the passion should never die. Become crazy and excessively obsessed with technology. But I lacked the power to obtain high proportions of knowledge.
People think I’m crazy. I talk to myself. Infact I talk to technology, ‘Bloody technology; don’t run at such a pace damn! Think of poor guys like me. You appear complete yet lots of work to be done on you.’ ‘Please don’t run…’
‘It just doesn’t wait’, I always think. I grab every possible opportunity to know about it. I go through every magazine, website and floating information and still I fall short of the required knowledge. A huge tech-fair invited me a few days ago which boasted of being ‘TechnicALLy yours!’ ‘Yo! Technology doesn’t know I’ll be a few seconds behind him in this race. I’m COMING.’ I got up the next morning, didn’t care to brush my teeth, took my bike and just whizzed to the fair. On my way, a guy stopped me. He was called Rajeev-the fiend. ‘You think you can keep pace with technology? Get over it bro. I’ll not let you do it. Better go brush your teeth.’ ‘Get the dash outta here’, I said and sailed.
“Whoa! This is huge” was my initial reaction when I looked at the hall that had been built exclusively for the fair. People looked at me with a jerk like expression. ‘Who cares?’ I was looking at some magazines placed on a table in the first hall. A robot greeted me at the entrance of a hall full of modern gadgets. There were uncountable number of halls, little kids flying in the air using a fire bolt. I saw kids playing Sony PS-3. ‘This is cool. Sony’s new PS-3. What a fair!’ I saw guys clicking photographs of beautiful girls with tiny cameras. I saw a group of kids playing with an electronic pen. One of those kids remained silent. He looked different, probably a young technophile. ‘Why is he so silent? Why is he staring aaaat….what’s that he’s staring at? I can’t see it.’
That kid drew my attention. For the first time in that hall a person was of interest besides a tech-gadget. He started crying. He didn’t stop. Nobody cared for him. The other kids were so fascinated with the electronic pen that this guy’s cry was inaudible.
I went to him and suddenly he stopped crying. ‘Wassup lil kid?Any problem?’ he never looked at me. ‘I want that’, he said. ‘What’s that?’, I asked. ‘That invisibility cloak’, he said he touched it and then I could see it. ‘What the…! The invisibility cloak!’ I took it and put it on him. ‘ Thundering typhoons! It really works. Research is actually on. But this is amazing. It is true!
‘That’s only a thing on display kid. It is only to show that a person has succeeded in making it. You just can’t take it.’
‘Who are you talking to?’ I opened my eyes, woke up with a jerk. It was my mom in my room. ‘Was I dreaming?’ I went to the mirror ‘I didn’t brush my teeth? Yuck! My mouth stinks.’

The kid made the difference. Technology is really never close.

Burn Out!

DON’T TALK, JUST BURN OUT

Genre: Controversial argument

Who, in India, is not a fan of cricket? You? Me? Let’s be serious. Most of us watch cricket and the proportion of people who do not, is countable.

Cricket, without a shade of doubt provides unimaginable excitement and joy. It makes a spectator grow nuts and leaves him in an island of extreme ‘insanity’. I dream of watching Sachin on the field. Has he burnt out as a consequence of 17 years of cricket toil or is he so weak to burn out easily? 17 years is indeed a lot of cricket. Agreed. Flip the coin, What about India’s relatively new finds- Pathan, Sehwag, Dhoni and Yuvraj? Add a few more greats to this list – Rahul Dravid, Ricky Ponting and Inzamam. All these cricketers feel they are being burnt out. CRICKETERS’ BURN OUT, the issue I am desperate to write about.

Cricket Legend Sunil Gavaskar once said, ‘the players should not complain about excessive cricket. Cricket is their profession and they need to play for their country. If you ask me to play for India, I will without any doubt.’ A valid viewpoint I’d like to put forward following gavaskar’s quote, Should the players be allowed to play that amount of cricket that eventually results in their easy wear and tear? A haunting consequence of this would be a short cricketing career. (Though that would be enough to spend a life of luxury after the amount a player makes.)

Commentators, cricket critics, column writers and we cricket lovers do our work off the field. We watch cricket for entertainment, analyze the game for records, and work off-field to make money, in many ways. Does anyone have the faintest idea how it actually feels playing cricket in piercing 40degrees or chilling 15degrees or 80percent humidity, not for an hour but for an effective 6 hours, not ‘once in a while’ but a ‘million times in a while’? I guess ‘No’. No wonder the issue features great captains.

A sad scenario prevails in world cricket today. Players are made to dance on the field to ICC’s tunes and in India it is to the money making body. ICC has recently devised a seven year plan for all countries and without any surprise India plays the most number of matches. It appears BCCI has a defective thirst quenching mechanism. The more money it drinks, the thirstier it becomes. The member-heads are death-eaters. They command and if the player doesn’t listen comes the patronus charm. Sehwag has become India’s first victim. A player’s freedom of speech is stolen and warned not to talk something that does not interest the board. The ganguly issue is slowly and steadily fading. India’s greatest captain is abruptly forgotten and is sadly, no more a hero. The player who took India to the peak of international cricket in terms of performance and fame is the most disliked person now, to such an extent where his ex-teammates are ordered to forget him. What a fitting end! The board wants the talker not to produce any stalker, an example of a rich kingdom reigning.

It is a clear case of realism. The board runs through one policy – ‘Don’t Talk, Just burn out.’ In fact, the board is very clever, they pay the cricketers handsomely but a multiple goes into the members’ pockets.

It is a call for Cricketers like Dinesh Mongia, Hemang Badani, Zaheer Khan and many others. Is it better for them to live a peaceful life playing for a county side outside the country rather than playing the role of a rich slave in India? They have been exceptional in their cricket and I’ll be the first one to vote for them. I have tracked their performance in the counties -160s, 6 wickets, and mere consistency. Yet they find no place in the national squad.

So, Don’t Talk…Let the bodies tear…

-Rajeev Turlapati

May 11, 2006

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