a city and a saturday....

Evolutionary Hiccups!!

If only you think that depletion of natural fuels, pollution, increasing level of global warming, population explotion,deforestation, melting icebergs in Antartica, deforestation, extinction of blue whales and telltales of 2012 was the extent to which the world will play 'Carrot and Stick - Mostly Stick' with you, it is but evident that there has to be the quintessential element of surprise in this great parody called life.

It is a cliche how life is similar to the commercial '7 p.m. Reality Shows', as it happens that we do have a 'Wildcard Entry' here!

I guess people have finally noticed what I had couple of years ago......

Suite yourself >>here<<

Tarantino!!!!

Attaboy, he did it again!!!!

August Rush

Life is even more monotonous after a woderful break.

Its August again. Don't know what to do.

I think I'll finish off the book this time, a major part of it consists of ill-effects of de-forestation!!

Lets say it is indeed stupid to chop down the thing that gives food, liquor and intoxication to human beings.

Day -1 :Phase -1 : Hitting the road:

Hitting the road was always fun. Especially when you are not really sure where excatly you are going. I was under the impression we were headed somewhere in the jungles, atleast that was the initial 'plan', but thanks to the rather heavy burden that it imposed on our pockets, we headed off to a more unchartered plot of land - poor, wet and damp, it took a good number of retries to get the name right - Kasaragod. A rain-damp piece of land by the ocean on the other side of the Ghats, speaking an incomprensible language with damp beaches and damp forts and damp coconut groves.We were pensive about the kind of road that lay ahead of us when we had our first flat tyre, later, by the time the trip ended, we were looking at two flat tyres, one damaged headlight, a non-functional car horn and a twisted rim of the front car wheel.The drive was long and fun, and we had the most unique driver on this side of the country, who tends to forget that he is supposed to look at the front through the windshield while driving a car and had a keen urge of asking for directions in a strech of absolutely straight road. The Ghats were nice, with green covers of thick dense vegetation, overshooting in all directions in the perpetual company of rains. There were bouts of rains, it would drizzle for a little while, then it would pour in thick transluscent sheets, it would come from all directions, even from the ground, and then it would suddenly disappear only to return in its usual calculative self after an hour.Not that we were complaining much about it. Why should we complain? We got time and nowhere definite to go. Our vacation had started.

Day - 1 :Phase-2 : Raging waters:

After around eight hours of drive, we had reached the brink of the State. We reached our first checkpoint. Coupleof back-to-back beaches with hurling waters and thick wet sands littered with brown-black rocks and dense vegatations. It was an absolute opposition to the picture of the white sandy beach where you would roll down in slumbering laziness with a bottle of juice in hand.The sea here was rough, insane and distraught, and big waves would snap at the land with a deep resonating rumble. Waves that would, in an instant, hurl at you like a giant whip if you get too near for too long, and when it receds, it would drag you along, and bury you knee-deepin the lurking wet sands. It was evident that the sea would not tend to our frolics and whims, neither did we intend to. It was a place where you need to sit and surrender at the greater might of nature, its overpowering grandeur, regal, ruthless, driven by dark rolling nimbus clouds merging with the waters in near infinity. It would fill you with refreshing tiredness, you would forget, for a while, the pending deadlines looking ruefully at you in coming weeks. You would look up at the sky as the first drops of rain hit your face with its stinging comfort and you would stare at the absolute vastness of raging waters from the top of the rock-face, jutting right out from the sea and fightingits eventual annihilation with equal defaince. It was a place where you are no more than a tiny audience.It was what you would call a dark and grim beauty.

Day -1 : Phase-3 : Crystal Ship:

It was twilight by the time we left the beach and headed to cross the State border. The sea had infused a subdued sense of overwhelm. It had started raining again. This time it broke its usual routine. This time the sky broke. We were stuck in the small car, among the dense foliages and the Ghats all around, now only an irregular shape bending down at us like a giant pre-historic monster. Our driver was at the small hamlet thats being used as a make-shift cross-border check post. And we sat silently, windows rolled up, listening to the intoxicating drumming of the raindrops on the roof of the car, staring at the patterns made by the pelting waters on the frosted windsheild. Many of them leaving a winding trail as they made their way to the bigger droplets. The air outside was heavy,inside, it was heavier. All the four windows now had a thick layer of moisture, and whatever little daylight was left casted a weak bluish glow as we kept on listening to the deep rumble of the shifting clouds and pouring rain. It was almost eerie, as if we were trying to look at the world from the belly of a small blue crystal ship.