Friday, November 29, 2013

Note making

making sense of health cards

Jeet ka Mantra: PK Mishra

Mr. PK Mishra is both, a hypocrite and clever. Clever hypocrites are never realized in our society, which is made mostly of people who are one of the either, but not both.

He's a hypocrite, because the man advocating the take it easy policy is no junior in the industry. He has a profile that is both big and highly eclectic. Such prolific writing is no easy affair, but he did insinuate the policy. Maybe he's a part of the Russian espionage.

He is clever, because he ran way ahead in the sphere of thought and meshed neural connections. How he did that was by leaving the world in a stupor with some absurd considerations without any advocacy of any sort of policy.
"Agar ladki ko andhere me 
aankh maari to hoga kya"
"Agar azaadi na ho to
swarg milne se hoga kya?"

It worked like a flashbang grenade. This allowed him to eat most of the lunch among the others in his class - fellow lyricists. He worked on a connected contemporary world, and then expressed that through his lyrics, while others were busy writing mere pretty rhyming stuff.

PKM is the man to know. Trust me, it has worked. I could do an ad on telebrands on the pitch of a PKM DVD Set promised to cure "most of social, parental, intimate, and ultimate problems".
It was proven no better way than being heralded the man of the hour by some very vocal princesses. Yes, in my dreamworld. I was hiking through a meadow and was surrounded by these bowls of fruit and wine, and stayed back to find myself amidst this curious cult. They were like the Hobbits in one sense, deeply intent on merry-making. I could only join them, but not escape. So I did, and believe it or not, what won them over was -what else but - a PKM creation.
"mere alaava kisi aurat ko na paas bulaana 
tum na kabhi bhi mother teresa ko chhod ke naam na lena"

Cult.

Thursday, November 28, 2013

Prettiest 'lil thing I've seen in the wild

UPDATE: Fffffound! Thank you, Ted!


 This dates back to May. I was on my way out of the Makalu-Barun National Park, in Sankhuwasabha district of Nepal. This was the last day of our trekking - the next day was a rollercoaster tractor ride from Num, followed by aerial transportation (i.e. plane) the day following it from Tumlingtar. 

We (the mountaineer gang and I) had loaded up and breakfast, and started from Shedua, anticipating reaching Num by the afternoon. This day of trekking goes through some rich, low-altitude tropical forests (~800-1500m). With the rains being a regular company on this return leg, the moisture-laden forests were teeming with life. Butterflies, birds, and insects were frolicking all around as we trekked. I also came across the largest moth larva ever in my lifetime.

Temperatures swelling during the day necessiated taking frequent water breaks. It was on one such pit-stop, about an hour from Num, that Kru's - who had been walking alongside - eyes noticed this insect making its way across the trail.
She was puzzled. I went bonkers. Regardless of the knowledge of how all surviving insect species have some amazing adaptation, and design, and how it should be a general expectation, I was in glee, like a kid. This was the most beautiful that I'd come across.


Having my bottle as the only empty container, I didn't think twice employing it for storage. A gentle maneuver saw "it" in. The remaining way, I was engrossed in thoughts of  being an entomologist; if nothing, I should polish myself as a Coleopterist.

Luck struck again, when another one was found, almost halfway the distance to Num. No second thoughts in adding him to the collection. The intention wasn't to kill or carry it all the way back, but to merely photograph - my camera was outta battery, so I was, with the beetles in hand, on the trail of Dominique who was literally running on the trail on this last day.

Finally, upon reaching Num, wet from an untimely downpour, I dried myself, and then introduced these to the crowd. Then they were safely set free at the edge of the village.

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Hey, home

Oh great diety, I am back in Delhi. It has only been a few hours, but it already feels thrilling to project myself over some M months and see how appropriate the decision has been. Not only appropriate, but the timing of it is remarkable, one which had me live through some of the best days in my life, and imagine many more to come. I have, to apply lofty layer on my experience, gained a grander vision, one that i see, as do some others, which i hope will turn into many others in another Y years. The unkempt surroundings and the half-chewed chewies on my desk might be intimidating to this sentiment, but they are mere sensual challenges that aren't a "concern".

Now, upon return, to Albert I could give a sheepish apology. I wouldn't, however, and ask him to wait and see. He doesn't know how the present world works. Neither do I, but at least it's more updated than his. The human condition, though, is still his forte. I don't break it sensibly.

As much as energy as I try to project, though, in reality, there are some hilarious bad planning and regimen that lead to some regrets. Upon recollection, they bring forth a "what the hell" inquiry. "What else" sometimes justifies the reasons of the otherwise, and plugs* the holes. Didn't visit a lotta places and people i'd think I would**. Inverted (or reverse-synchronised) clock cycle - dunno if it is causative or causal. Anything else I'm missing? Everything has been delayed in my timeline, but not everything has been so unappealing or eschewing.

As they say, "the color wheel is a bit wrongly oriented".

* (there has to be a better word than that in, uh, plugging a hole, and conversely, an appropriate word for scooping a hole - and what you get from the not-exactly-residue)
(but did accidentally visit some amazing new others)