My love and need for bureaucratic government departments doesn’t seem to die out. It even instills in me this generosity to make available details of the application process on my blog. Now that is some love I’d say.
1.Requirements: Ability to breathe in depleted oxygen levels and a dash of resilience for the sporadic brusqueness that may come your way. Apart from these two pivotal requirements (I say pivotal because their absence can spin your head oh so round) you’d also require a pen, glue, original license, original passport, original visa , photocopies of the before mentioned three documents and 4 passport sized photographs. (it’s actually 3, but in case you find a cute guy/girl lined up behind you, you can inadvertently drop the extra photo with your number written behind it.:) In case you were thinking, if that’s how I meet men, then no you’re wrong. Transport Department has boring crowd. Try the same at the Passport office. ;)
2. Queues are a myth created by mankind but fear not -some gumption goes a long way : The enquiry counter is always the hotspot at places where a lot can go wrong( and it does go wrong). The place in question here, also had one of course with a motley crowd standing around it. My attempts to locate a queue were in vain because there did not seem to be one. So three very kind gentlemen see right through the very opaque looking me and manage to get ahead in the crowd, I realize it’s time to put the next man in place. And put him in place I did. Excerpt from the conversation:
Me: Do you mind Sir? There is a queue here. (No there wasn’t a queue, but I got there first!)
Disgruntled boy: Frowns (in reply)
(Crowd in front of me thins out, and as I head towards the counter…)
Disgruntled boy: (to man behind counter) I’m a tool. I’m a tool. I’m a tool. (Of course he didn’t say that, I don’t really remember now -*malicious grin* )
Me: Aap ko samajh nahin aaya? Queue! (Don’t you get it you doofus, there is a Queue here)
Disgruntled boy: (amidst grunts and snorts) Kya queue? (What queue?)
Me: Push-Nudge-Look defiant. REPEAT.
3. Room 217: The beautiful symphony of application for the international driving permit is conducted from this room. Kind of like the Vatican of the International License application process. Here, you must produce your passport and license, quickly grab on to a form handed out to you to fill and listen to the list of documents required to be submitted (mentioned above in the same post) in sweet rapture.
4. Medical Examination-Fear no more!: Now one of the documents that need to be provided is a medical certificate. Not having had the foresight to have thought of this prior to my decision to embark upon this joyous mission, I realized I’d have to pay a visit to the in house doctor at the transport department building who had a room juxtaposed to room 217. (No, I exaggerate, it was down the hall☺). On indicating my desire to get a medical certificate I was instructed to fill another form. The doctor then proceeded to sign the same and ten minutes and fifty bucks later I had a certificate attesting my good health and happiness.
5. Room 217: See, it all comes back to room 217. You can’t do one thing here without the approval from Room 217. So I was going to do just that.
Me: “Look at my shiny new certificate! What prize do I get for it?”.
ANSWER from Room 217: “ You get to pay the fee and get the hell outta here!”
( Note: This conversation happened ONLY in my head)
6. Paying the fee: Now there was a serpentine queue outside the room you go to deposit the fee. This freaked me out a little bit. Thoughts of self doubt starting crawling down my back, later I realized it was perspiration. A few questions later, I realized that was not the queue I was suppose to be a part of. As it turned out there was no queue for depositing the fee for the international driving permit. So that was pretty darn quick. Five hundred Rupees, does the trick.
7. Room 217: Fill up a booklet (which is going to be your LICENSE btw) and sign your name in a couple of places with a flourish, after presenting the receipt for depositing the fee. You are then told to come back in the afternoon.
8. The return: This happens in the afternoon. Did for me atleast. We are required to hover around Room 217. (Remember-the temple?). A nod beckons us inside, and we are handed the documents and booklets and instructed to go to room 211.
9. Room 211: Not as important as Room 217 as you may have figured. But this room holds the key to cementing the entire process. The holy grail of all of the twenty million signatures that are required on the booklet.
10. Room 217,Yawn: So now, you know you’re almost done. So you have a smile playing at the corners of your lips. You present the documents with an unparalleled confidence. The guy stamps it at a zillion places, and just when you think that there is no surface area left for the green stamp to leave its mark except the wood on the table, the guy looks up with triump. Woohoo! It’s done!
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Life Lessons Over Greek Salad
As the Camarero brought the salad over to my side of the table, I was curious as to taste that it would have to offer. It was no surprise though, when it turned out to be devoid of any mote of salt even. Not to be deterred by the absence of sodium chloride and other flavourful substances, I promptly proceeded to spruce up the multicolored salad (which had guest appearances by feta cheese and green pitted olives) with salt, oregano, olive paste and chili flakes. I intended to make the most of my culinary moment. My gastronomic ambitions can not be crippled so easily I thought to myself, as I instructed the garcon to sprinkle freshly ground black pepper on the revamped salad.
Maybe it was the salad or maybe it was the dim light at the Italian restaurant or the fact that I was eating a Greek salad at an Italian restaurant, either way, I realized in a state of stupor, that little moments in life or hell, life itself, is like a plateful of insipid salad. Agreed, the salad was more edible than some of the grotesque things that comes our way on a daily basis (if you’ve hit a particularly low point) or the one of those dementor like apparitions that confound us once every full moon with the occasional werewolf like demons. But really, those dark ghosts and ghouls aside, life mostly deals us raw vegetables without seasoning.
Now, the first reflex of any individual who unknowingly ordered the insipid salad, who is obviously looking to broaden the horizon of his/her palate, would be to grimace, look around helplessly, crib/complain to fellow diners then settle down deep in the seat with a submissive shrug. Some individuals with particularly resilient and pugnacious genetic material would argue some and get their order replaced with a run of the mill spaghetti arabiatta. Same applies for banal life situations. A boring day, a lonely hour, a particularly hackneyed moment.
What I would advocate is (by virtue of sheer experience-not that I have much of it, but I am writing this so yes, read on), a sincere look around the table. Oft, there are enough spices and condiments to make that moment come about. I sure found the requisite amount to save the Greek salad from the abyss of the garbage dump.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Thoughts of España….and some other nebulous ones thrown in for good measure
A year ago, when I watched Thierry Henry score a splendid goal for FC Barcelona at Camp Nou against Real Valladollid, little did I know that at this time of the year I’d be packing my bags to move to the country of Paella, Flamenco and some kick ass football. Living in France for three odd months I knew I had a special affinity to this part of the world, what with the Café Crème’s, Lemon Meringue’s and leisurely walks around the streets in the ear numbing cold, becoming a daily ritual of sorts. Ofcourse, there were the evenings fraught with loss of dexterity at the impending thought of preparing a meal to feed myself, but I somehow managed to survive courtesy goat cheese pizzas, crazily concocted fajitas, hash browns, baguettes, gouda cheese and Haagen Dazs.
At this point, I am mighty curious as to what life of a doctoral candidate would entail. I can picture myself with thick glasses (thicker than the ones I wear now) bent over Adam Smith’s Wealth of Nations or Hofstedes Culture’s Consequences in dim candlelight with a magnifying glass. (I guess my imagination is fueled from some book written in the1800’s). Apart from this mental image from the dark ages, there are the reoccurring thoughts of travel to Prague which have me walking on the Charles Bridge at midnight listening to the Moonlight Sonata as the light from the nearby houses bounces off the sparkling river. As I am lost in this reverie, a part of me brings my thoughts back to Spain.
I am the kind of traveler who loves all things travel. The pre-planning, the planning, the journey, the travel, the wandering, the unpacking. All of it. Even the wait at airport is something I can take in without much grumbling.(No, I am not on Prosaic)So of course, the days leading up to the date I leave for Madrid, are of as much significance as is the actual arrival and the post arrival days.
Visa application, Ticket Booking, accommodation hunting online, opening a bank account, purchasing insurance and several other mundane tasks that ought to be carried out in this phase, make one feel even closer to the destination than they might be in reality. So having visited the Spain Embassy twice now and looked at a thousand apartments virtually, I feel I am already there, living the Spanish life, the Sombreros and the Siestas all included.
At this point, I am mighty curious as to what life of a doctoral candidate would entail. I can picture myself with thick glasses (thicker than the ones I wear now) bent over Adam Smith’s Wealth of Nations or Hofstedes Culture’s Consequences in dim candlelight with a magnifying glass. (I guess my imagination is fueled from some book written in the1800’s). Apart from this mental image from the dark ages, there are the reoccurring thoughts of travel to Prague which have me walking on the Charles Bridge at midnight listening to the Moonlight Sonata as the light from the nearby houses bounces off the sparkling river. As I am lost in this reverie, a part of me brings my thoughts back to Spain.
I am the kind of traveler who loves all things travel. The pre-planning, the planning, the journey, the travel, the wandering, the unpacking. All of it. Even the wait at airport is something I can take in without much grumbling.(No, I am not on Prosaic)So of course, the days leading up to the date I leave for Madrid, are of as much significance as is the actual arrival and the post arrival days.
Visa application, Ticket Booking, accommodation hunting online, opening a bank account, purchasing insurance and several other mundane tasks that ought to be carried out in this phase, make one feel even closer to the destination than they might be in reality. So having visited the Spain Embassy twice now and looked at a thousand apartments virtually, I feel I am already there, living the Spanish life, the Sombreros and the Siestas all included.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Invincible
I never thought to be that person who would grieve the loss of a pop-icon. But here I am dedicating this blog to Michael Jackson-He who rocked my world for some twenty odd years, and will continue to do for many years to come.
Michael and I go a long way back. Somewhere in the early 1990’s someone gifted me the album “Dangerous”. And since that day all the colours were either “black or white“. Even as years progressed dear Michael always managed to figure in my life somehow. Whether it was “Give in to me” as suggested by a very special person at a point of time, or “Stranger in Moscow” downloaded after the very positive recommendation from a friend, MJ has given me music that has given shape to so many of my life memories. The drives on roads along the Mandovi in Panjim, would have been so different without his Grammy nominated “ You are not alone”. I know these words are fraught with nostalgia. But that’s what music does, a familiar tune is enough to push you down those old paths. Music lives on forever.
In the opinion of some cynics, revering Michael Jackson could possibly be a result of the mass adulation wave that rose tsunami like when the news of his death became public. But then, the eternal optimist (recent converted) that I am, I’d have to say, such was his impact on music in the decades gone by. I am not writing this to reiterate the accolades he might have to his name-we have the wikipedias of the world to do the needful on that front.
It has been asserted by some publically , and some even close to me that the death of Michael Jackson is fortuitous in that it leaves the world a safer place for children. Now, I agree allegations and suspicious out of court settlements have marred MJ’s career since the early 1990’s, add to that several rhinoplasties and idiosyncrasies and you have someones life all mangled on the front pages of tabloids worldwide. Michael Jackson was a singer and a great one at that too, the world loves/d his songs and moves, yet somehow when all the media frenzy came to do the rounds, we seemed to promptly forget his forte and decided to focus on all the negativity. I am not saying we ought to condone his misdoings, but amidst all the controversy it is imperative to remember that MJ was an individual, and like so many of us out there, had some flaws. Agreed, being a public figure everything does tend to get completely out of proportion and makes for lucrative headlines. All of us have some dark secret in our lives at some point of time, and it would be highly unpleasant to see it being sold at a few cents a piece on a newsstand. So maybe this once, we can let a great singer rest in peace, and remember him for what his music was: Invincible.
Michael and I go a long way back. Somewhere in the early 1990’s someone gifted me the album “Dangerous”. And since that day all the colours were either “black or white“. Even as years progressed dear Michael always managed to figure in my life somehow. Whether it was “Give in to me” as suggested by a very special person at a point of time, or “Stranger in Moscow” downloaded after the very positive recommendation from a friend, MJ has given me music that has given shape to so many of my life memories. The drives on roads along the Mandovi in Panjim, would have been so different without his Grammy nominated “ You are not alone”. I know these words are fraught with nostalgia. But that’s what music does, a familiar tune is enough to push you down those old paths. Music lives on forever.
In the opinion of some cynics, revering Michael Jackson could possibly be a result of the mass adulation wave that rose tsunami like when the news of his death became public. But then, the eternal optimist (recent converted) that I am, I’d have to say, such was his impact on music in the decades gone by. I am not writing this to reiterate the accolades he might have to his name-we have the wikipedias of the world to do the needful on that front.
It has been asserted by some publically , and some even close to me that the death of Michael Jackson is fortuitous in that it leaves the world a safer place for children. Now, I agree allegations and suspicious out of court settlements have marred MJ’s career since the early 1990’s, add to that several rhinoplasties and idiosyncrasies and you have someones life all mangled on the front pages of tabloids worldwide. Michael Jackson was a singer and a great one at that too, the world loves/d his songs and moves, yet somehow when all the media frenzy came to do the rounds, we seemed to promptly forget his forte and decided to focus on all the negativity. I am not saying we ought to condone his misdoings, but amidst all the controversy it is imperative to remember that MJ was an individual, and like so many of us out there, had some flaws. Agreed, being a public figure everything does tend to get completely out of proportion and makes for lucrative headlines. All of us have some dark secret in our lives at some point of time, and it would be highly unpleasant to see it being sold at a few cents a piece on a newsstand. So maybe this once, we can let a great singer rest in peace, and remember him for what his music was: Invincible.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Perro Pathos
I have wanted to write a witty story with the above title for about two years now. It was first intended to be “Perro Pathos-Ek kutte ki dard bhari kahani” (Perro-Pathos-One dogs painful story). I contemplated writing about life from a dogs perspective, having encountered atleast one dog in every campus I have managed to study in or visit over the years. Somehow, the discussions and thoughts never materialized into anything substantial or into a first draft for that matter. I brushed off the feeling of abandoning what could have been a masterpiece of contemporary literature, thinking that perhaps I was meant to be scared of dogs eternally and not make them the protagonists of my Pulitzer Prize winning book.
It is only today after my 1,87,645th encounter with Rocky (christened so) and Silly (Conjured up by yours truly) at my haunt of choice for a quick chat and thirst quencher with the girls, did I realize maybe I am attracting the Rockies, Sillies, Jangos, Mochas, Thirsty-D’s the world because of my bad dog Karma.
Bad Dog Karma, you say?
This theory is essentially two fold. Firstly, my fear of dogs has only become more entrenched over the years and not dissipated as anticipated by me and predicted by some wise men/women. I have often heard that dogs can sense fear and get attracted to dimwits who are unable to mask their fears with a brave face. Some like me are even worse, and start an enchanted supplication process which entails chanting names of God, family, friends and willing them to make the dog vanish, all the while with eyes squeezed shut as a dog innocently approaches.
If this is true, then perhaps I have concluded after much thought, that the dogs approach me over and over trying to get across a message that I ought to let go of this fear. But what fails me is how they manage to coordinate their efforts across the National Capital Region.
The Second line of thought is bordering on the Reincarnation of Souls. I have a strong feeling that I was a very notorious dog in my past life, motivating hoards of dogs to fight a gory war to regain territorial control. And now, just for fun, I’ve been born a human in that very territory the dogs had managed to defeat some hundred years ago. No wonder the dogs in the general area always approach me with vengeance.
Now I don’t really know which theory has more proponents at this point, but I can definitely say this in Spanish: Mi perro es fiero y fuerte. ( My dog is fierce and strong)..and lest you think otherwise, I don’t have a dog. I just like to talk about them.
(Disclaimer: All of the above mentioned dog names are written as heard/concocted by the writer for comic relief purposes ONLY. Any resemblance to humans with similar names is purely coincidental)
It is only today after my 1,87,645th encounter with Rocky (christened so) and Silly (Conjured up by yours truly) at my haunt of choice for a quick chat and thirst quencher with the girls, did I realize maybe I am attracting the Rockies, Sillies, Jangos, Mochas, Thirsty-D’s the world because of my bad dog Karma.
Bad Dog Karma, you say?
This theory is essentially two fold. Firstly, my fear of dogs has only become more entrenched over the years and not dissipated as anticipated by me and predicted by some wise men/women. I have often heard that dogs can sense fear and get attracted to dimwits who are unable to mask their fears with a brave face. Some like me are even worse, and start an enchanted supplication process which entails chanting names of God, family, friends and willing them to make the dog vanish, all the while with eyes squeezed shut as a dog innocently approaches.
If this is true, then perhaps I have concluded after much thought, that the dogs approach me over and over trying to get across a message that I ought to let go of this fear. But what fails me is how they manage to coordinate their efforts across the National Capital Region.
The Second line of thought is bordering on the Reincarnation of Souls. I have a strong feeling that I was a very notorious dog in my past life, motivating hoards of dogs to fight a gory war to regain territorial control. And now, just for fun, I’ve been born a human in that very territory the dogs had managed to defeat some hundred years ago. No wonder the dogs in the general area always approach me with vengeance.
Now I don’t really know which theory has more proponents at this point, but I can definitely say this in Spanish: Mi perro es fiero y fuerte. ( My dog is fierce and strong)..and lest you think otherwise, I don’t have a dog. I just like to talk about them.
(Disclaimer: All of the above mentioned dog names are written as heard/concocted by the writer for comic relief purposes ONLY. Any resemblance to humans with similar names is purely coincidental)
Friday, June 19, 2009
The evening was quite luminous
Then the night descended
And changed everything….
The perception, the visage of love
Was distorted and dark
The thoughts transitioned
Dancing their insouciant outlandish dance
Their serpentine caress
Albeit the sagacious charm
Resuscitated soon after though,
The dark attenuated to grey
The chimera abated
It’s a manic world as they say
But somehow it’s just right.
Then the night descended
And changed everything….
The perception, the visage of love
Was distorted and dark
The thoughts transitioned
Dancing their insouciant outlandish dance
Their serpentine caress
Albeit the sagacious charm
Resuscitated soon after though,
The dark attenuated to grey
The chimera abated
It’s a manic world as they say
But somehow it’s just right.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Revolutionizing the Inveterate Systems
As I step into the Patiala house courts grounds for the first time, I am confronted with a bleak reality. Amidst the deplorable state of cleanliness and the general disarray I am forced to face the thought that perhaps we need to awake to the need for a radical change –a radical shift in the functioning of administrative divisions.
Given my newfound optimism in life, I was able to cast a blind eye to the disorder at the passport offices, but a quick trip to the MEA offices for apostillization had me thudding back to reality.
Going with the optimistic tone that I am trying hold here, I will shed only minimalistic radiance on the reasons that compel me to think what I’m thinking.
An average citizen of the country in need for a basic service such as renewal of travel document, flutters to the passport office with much hope having taken the day off from work. He/She hopes he/she has all the documents mandated and progresses at snails pace to the window. Fast forward thirty minutes and he/she has been reprimanded for being in the wrong queue, with the wrong documents and for having created a commotion. The hopeful innocence has trickled down his/her forehead by now and all that is left are fractious fragments of doom.
Another dampner for the complete novitiate could be a sense of complete disillusionment upon arrival. With forms in tow and faith in his/her heart the fledgling arrives promptly at 9 am and looks around for a friendly face and sees none. If he/she could just ask someone -where to go and what to do? So without a scintilla of doubt that his/her resilience would pay off, he/she strides purposefully toward the mass of crowd that looks like a queue. Come, 10 am and our novitiate is standing in a corner sipping water, letting the five varied answers he got from the crowd do their own sordid dance in his/her head.
It would suffice to say that given the rapid development we are observing today in infrastructure (Cometh Commonwealth Games 2010) and other corporate miracles being witnessed everywhere, it is excruciatingly important that the administrative departments progress proportionately if not in tandem.
Perhaps it is time we develop Standard Operating Procedures (SOPs) and Model Business Processes (MBPs) for these wings of the government. It would be interesting to wonder how this might be conceptualized. To begin with the Government can hire consulting firms to study the AS-IS processes of various departments involving interface with the general populace. Followed by which they can carry out a gap analysis and come up with a model process which would expedite the functioning of the department at the same time enhance customer satisfaction (After all we are paying taxes and a fee for the service!). Development of standardized practices all across would result in readily available information at various portals to the citizens of the country to prevent redundancies and omissions, which in turn further enhance the functioning of the departments.
A simplistic illustration; If there are large displays indicating the process of acquiring a new travel document detailing layouts, instructions and lead time, the time devoted to answer incessant questions at application windows could be avoided. Also, we observe that token numbers are distributed to applicants for which they are required to queue up hours before the counter opens up. Now, would it not be easier to install token dispensing machines and utilizing the excess manpower on other domains such as enquiry counter, extra form verification counters, helpdesks?
I would be wrong to say that things have not improved at all over the years-they have indeed. But if we are to say that we are fortified and liberal in our existence as a nation we must replace the hackneyed ways with a professional optimism.
Given my newfound optimism in life, I was able to cast a blind eye to the disorder at the passport offices, but a quick trip to the MEA offices for apostillization had me thudding back to reality.
Going with the optimistic tone that I am trying hold here, I will shed only minimalistic radiance on the reasons that compel me to think what I’m thinking.
An average citizen of the country in need for a basic service such as renewal of travel document, flutters to the passport office with much hope having taken the day off from work. He/She hopes he/she has all the documents mandated and progresses at snails pace to the window. Fast forward thirty minutes and he/she has been reprimanded for being in the wrong queue, with the wrong documents and for having created a commotion. The hopeful innocence has trickled down his/her forehead by now and all that is left are fractious fragments of doom.
Another dampner for the complete novitiate could be a sense of complete disillusionment upon arrival. With forms in tow and faith in his/her heart the fledgling arrives promptly at 9 am and looks around for a friendly face and sees none. If he/she could just ask someone -where to go and what to do? So without a scintilla of doubt that his/her resilience would pay off, he/she strides purposefully toward the mass of crowd that looks like a queue. Come, 10 am and our novitiate is standing in a corner sipping water, letting the five varied answers he got from the crowd do their own sordid dance in his/her head.
It would suffice to say that given the rapid development we are observing today in infrastructure (Cometh Commonwealth Games 2010) and other corporate miracles being witnessed everywhere, it is excruciatingly important that the administrative departments progress proportionately if not in tandem.
Perhaps it is time we develop Standard Operating Procedures (SOPs) and Model Business Processes (MBPs) for these wings of the government. It would be interesting to wonder how this might be conceptualized. To begin with the Government can hire consulting firms to study the AS-IS processes of various departments involving interface with the general populace. Followed by which they can carry out a gap analysis and come up with a model process which would expedite the functioning of the department at the same time enhance customer satisfaction (After all we are paying taxes and a fee for the service!). Development of standardized practices all across would result in readily available information at various portals to the citizens of the country to prevent redundancies and omissions, which in turn further enhance the functioning of the departments.
A simplistic illustration; If there are large displays indicating the process of acquiring a new travel document detailing layouts, instructions and lead time, the time devoted to answer incessant questions at application windows could be avoided. Also, we observe that token numbers are distributed to applicants for which they are required to queue up hours before the counter opens up. Now, would it not be easier to install token dispensing machines and utilizing the excess manpower on other domains such as enquiry counter, extra form verification counters, helpdesks?
I would be wrong to say that things have not improved at all over the years-they have indeed. But if we are to say that we are fortified and liberal in our existence as a nation we must replace the hackneyed ways with a professional optimism.
Friday, June 12, 2009
13 Thoughts for the day
1. What goes around comes around. It's all Karma.
2. Mangoes taste sweeter than they did ever before. Is it me or is it them?
3. Cracking up in a murder mystery where the protagonist is going through a sombre phase , is something that needs to be given a try. Thrice.
4. Body Shop should have a sign saying "Mudra not allowed inside".
5. Bollocks to the literal interpretation of "Corgito, Ergo Sum"
6. Assam tea tastes brilliant even at 41 degrees.
7. God bless the empathetic officials at the collection counter at Passport Office.
8. The Bertlitz Spain guide is waiting to be devoured.
9. Life is now adorned by 4 new books I can't wait to get my eyes into.
10. Playing chauffeur to '' Betty Crocker -gone-berserk' and 'Whacko-laughing/maniac-movie-watcher' is quite fun!
11. Wearing a kurta(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kurta) invites less leching on the roads.
12. You can't resist what IS.
13. 'Coming Back to life' is the new anthem.
2. Mangoes taste sweeter than they did ever before. Is it me or is it them?
3. Cracking up in a murder mystery where the protagonist is going through a sombre phase , is something that needs to be given a try. Thrice.
4. Body Shop should have a sign saying "Mudra not allowed inside".
5. Bollocks to the literal interpretation of "Corgito, Ergo Sum"
6. Assam tea tastes brilliant even at 41 degrees.
7. God bless the empathetic officials at the collection counter at Passport Office.
8. The Bertlitz Spain guide is waiting to be devoured.
9. Life is now adorned by 4 new books I can't wait to get my eyes into.
10. Playing chauffeur to '' Betty Crocker -gone-berserk' and 'Whacko-laughing/maniac-movie-watcher' is quite fun!
11. Wearing a kurta(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kurta) invites less leching on the roads.
12. You can't resist what IS.
13. 'Coming Back to life' is the new anthem.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
The day ends, the journey concludes
My heart still beats with the myriad hues
My mind dwells in memories past
The friends that were, the friends that are
The night descends, with promises in pockets
I wander a little, my thoughts astray
The questions slowly give way to calm
My walk is not aimless, my steps are firm
The journey untold has just begun.
My heart still beats with the myriad hues
My mind dwells in memories past
The friends that were, the friends that are
The night descends, with promises in pockets
I wander a little, my thoughts astray
The questions slowly give way to calm
My walk is not aimless, my steps are firm
The journey untold has just begun.
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