Blogspeak

Yes yes i know its been far too long after my first address. but then again there have been other issues to address too. like for example my dear mistress has been some what active on the blog...(thank god the first address was written in blogspeak, and plus she was too dumb to understand) Anyways the first issue that I think needs to be looked into is what is happening in the world around us and believe me a hell LOT is happening. The blog president resigned on account of sexual allegations against him (poor chap!) that was raked up by the blogmedia for like a whole fortnight...what work did I have in that you ask? but of course my dear blogs i was invited to as many blogger networks to speak about the improper conduct of some one as esteemed as our dear Blohead... and then as soon as that got done and the fire died down, I thought of leaving on a vacation for like duo weeks when a rival world called blofarce decided to set base on our source code..believe me i had to speak like for hours in the Blambase till they decided to take military action against the traitors...aahhh the rest of it I am sure you have followed in the bloppers recently. Anyway by then I had resolved that i would take a break of at least a week aah but then again the great Bijuse wasn't ready to concede his defeat...therefore the third problem that followed was that my blogirlfriend decided that since i was not giving her enough time she might as well as shift to mindspace for more fun...the time it takes to handle girls even in the virtual world is amazingly loooooooong..anyways once all that was done i was left with no stamina to think of anything beleive me nothing....

And yet our cause couldn't be left stranded and what would i tell my other brothers especially those to whom i had boasted of having sufficient blogs listening to me...so i have drafted my first initial points:

1) I will not be addressing just my issue but will be looking at the issues that all of us as a community face

2) No this is no political association but just another community like "i like blog and blogspeak" or "the society of uninterested blogs"

3) I need help to develop the language "blogspeak"

4) No porn or POrn related issues here (for those of us who like to view this voyeristc pleasure i shall direct you to further other sites but seriously guys i thought porn was for those stupid humans but then again even the best of us fail at times)

5) No more bitching about my creator, she likes to sleep let her....We will have a more worldly view of things around like "the bandwidth is more juicy here than any other portal in the milky way-to use a human term)

6) Any one interested in joining in the worldly appreciation of our Blohead is welcome

7) a Blojob is NOT similar to the derogatory terms that humans use

8) I still haven't decided what to use instead of the term in blogspeak though

9) aah now i am bored and tired

10) THe above point is not there by mistake but is very much related to those of us who have creators using relentlessly. (like this friend of my creators uses one of our borhters evne while shagging...i mean come on give me a break!!!!!!)


Sigh!!!! now that i have come up with some things i need to leave something's up with my blogirlfriend...she wishes me to accompany her for a nonsensical showing of the popular "bloup"
Stupid blo i tell you but one has to please the female species everywhere in the universe like this other time an anthropide was telling me that his wife......aah well no time now some other time i guess

Thousands Splendid Suns- A Review

Figure this- 2 women, a chronicle of 3 decades, and a stunning style of writing. This is what Hosseini provides us in his latest venture. A Thousand Splendid Suns is exactly what it tells you Splendid. Set against the background of not-yet-torn Afghanistan it begins with the story of Mariam, a girl living in her own world of beauty and some breathless awestruck moments spent with her father ; a world which is later shattered by her own misgivings or fate. Married of to a man who strictly adheres to the rule that women are not to progress she remains at various points in the book unhappy credulously astounded and amazingly shattered by the antics and behaviour of her husband. Here the story is cut short to Laila and Tariq and their childhood romance reminiscent of all our first encounter with love. This world is happily broken down when tariq moves to Pakistan leaving Laila alone with a moaning mother and a hapless father. However this torture too seems better than what she begins to endure when left orphaned by her a bomb and becoming Mariam’s sister. After this her whole life is set in the bonds set up alternatively by rasheed and the Taliban, that is till Tariq comes to her rescue. The book ends with all the special effects worthy of a movie with a murder and a trial that would shock the world at large.

Chronicling 3 decades of a Nation at reckless and yet an unassuming speed with all its implausible high and lows Khaled Hosseini has kept his word with us, a word that he had to give at the end of Kite Runner- of being a great if not the best Human Interest story writer in recent times. Stupendous in his style of hooking the reader and almost making the make-believe characters and the world real is probably one of the best attributes that one can applaud this writer of. One of the many migrant writers he makes us fall in love with Afghanistan almost making us belittle and curse the Soviets and then the Afghanistanis for fooling around and destroying a land so beautiful in culture and tradition. One can almost hear the pleas and the moans of the Buddha Monuments they were being torn apart. An intrinsic view of the Taliban rule puts all our thought process in limbo at the rate at which the rulers had wanted to take the country back in time. Imbibing this medieval attitude into the storyline and crafting it this well almost makes us compare Hosseini in the same league as Pamuk.

Any overwritten parts in the narration are looked over as one really doesn’t notice these overdrawn periods assuming them to be in sync and indeed necessary for the storyline to progress. If however something disappoints it is that pattern of writing doesn’t change. Thus one has this mistaken feeling of returning to the Kite Runner every now and then. However if that is the price we have to pay then this book or must I say an abridged version of the story of a country long forgotten by the world, is a read. If not for anything for but the heart wrenching emotions it builds up in you not for anyone but for a land and people who would have been at some other place hadn’t destiny had something else in store for them.

Death at her Hands

1 pair of windows,

A door of passions

2 hearts of love,

20 downing street

And you were born

2 pairs of hands and feet

Bobbing mahogany dark heads

Long inimitable hours of wait

Incomparable periods of morning sickness

And dreams were born

A new renovated house

Crowded groaning celebrations

Squealing tiny carriages

And moments of utter desperation

A family was born

Moments of Irrefutable hope

Followed by hours of Plunging despair

The small uttering of a powerful word

Followed by decades of happy bliss

Treasures were nurtured.

Small dreams Small Hopes

Concrete words and powerful gestures

The first fall, initial moments of malady

A flash of helplessness and the surrender to ecstasy

We were re-born.

Initial symptoms that tricked

Pain that turned into unchanging agony

Bliss that flipped to fear then paranoia

Worry etched in our lives

We still lived

Dreams turned to despair

Emptiness that took control

A dark looming future

That was changing our lives

And yet we clung on.

The hours of interminable hospital waits

The sickly pungent repelling odor

The monotone of white-washed walls

The pearly white bed with beeps

It was now life

Hours turned to weeks to months

Despair ever nurtured now family

Hope the elusive lantern at the tunnel-end

We waited, we hoped, we prayed.

Past never ceases present haunts

And the mist ahead serves to frighten

And yet a hollow world we aphorized

Filled with misery and pain

An unceasing wait to regain life

To Faint and yet live.

Life is but a series of pathways now

Its meaning lost in the labyrinth of mazes

A moving train to a nameless journey

A death more anticipated

We will be born again….

Blogspeak

Hi! I am swati's blog and though i am not very proficient in the art of conveying my message to the world i am now hoping that this message reaches the people especially my creator who is on the verge of becoming the most laziest person on blogspeak.(which by the way is my own language under which i am trying to get other blogs). Anyways let me not diverge from my topic of essential conversation which is that I am now going to write about myself on myself and from myself. If any of you didn't get the meaning of this efficient method of speaking i suggest that you again but your own copy of blogspeak dictionary (extremely beneficial especially to the basically illiterate users of blogging) the reason of i me myself inventing blogspeak is none other than the wish to speak about myself but of course i already mentioned that. But the real reason has to be kept covert for none other than the fact that my extremely stupid and yet overtly profound creator might just might check on her now supposedly defunct blog and find that someone is using it and might get all hyped up and start another series of boring profoundly confusing poems about her unimportant state of mind. Now we all know that none of us are pretty much interested in reading the same things over and over again so we best let her think that this blog is defunct and therefore all our actions and motto will now be spoken in extreme terms of blogspeak security(the list of which will be appearing in rather covert language in further posts) till then my friends and other other not-so-good-friends and outright enemies........

*&&%%#$$%#*(*(

achievement, opines, perspire and bleed!
success commands, bow down and serve
spirits athirst deny this call, and suffer when freedbut
create anew,
through heavy heart, and flayed nerve.

Karthik Balsubramanium

Some moments are not the best and yet they are the ones that stay with you alwayz...
this statement made by a friend of mine struck me the most odd... you see we often characterize out best moments as the ones that would be with us and yet those are not the ones that one goes back to in time of need...when i mention need i mean those ephemeral times when one feels crushed by everything around (nowadays those times are no longer brief i must add). How do these tiny moments help us..what is their influence in our life?? Why do we give emotions, moments so much importance in our lives...i often find people around me talking about so much that i would find unnecessary to to discuss especially when the world around keeps behaving strangely like the court passing unnecessary decisions just to generate controversy as if the current scenario wasn't enough. diverting my thought here minority and Reservations seem to be the hot topic of this season just like last year and with tamil nadu wanting to provide reservations for even Catholics and Muslims may the One to whom we all humble down save us... It would then seem that only the intellectual fools stay within the bracket of majority.... Anyway comming back to my rant yeah so it was till sometime back that i realized that probably i was really looking down on these people with a very biased view.. Because you see just cause one sets a high standard for oneself dosen't mean that the rest of the world has to follow you..and also i noticed one thing i might not continually talk about those so-called time waster but yes there were times when i needed to relieve one's chest of those packs and yes again friends seem to be the best places to....So was i being a hypocrite? or was i just considering my self superior..is it acceptable to do it..consider oneself superior..isn't every individual unique in their own way..ohh no there i start with the cliche bull crap as a friend of mine would say...you c its extremely to keep one's emotions out of a particular subject... Coz even when one does work it has to deal with passion coz you do something only which will hold us to it not because it was meant to be done...


set has the orange ball
in quietude the birds rest
calm is the ocean
and turbulent are my thoughts....

turbulent wisps of longing this may be
confusion may hover the soul
loneliness or presence is not the concern
content and dissatisfaction were after all omnipresent...



swats

It's really suprising when my head is bursting with ideas n yet the words fail to impress upon me the importance to put down these ideas. this is what exactly happening... some call it writer's block, others woiuld call it an excuse but what do i cal it??? never mind here i am attempting to break these barriers that have imprisioned me...

Forgotten Streaks

I crave for sanctity
for freedom and soul
I miss the moments
of lonely quietude
of mischievous wonders
at fruits forbidden

Achieved have i
those spellbound incantations
that would lead me to believe
that the path i walk upon
be fells none of the trauma
i have thought of

and yet i wonder
of those forks that
led me, hold me
and guide me
was it sanity i looked for?
was it calmness that answered
my quest for adventure

Have i forgotten my glory?
those moments of unspoken triumph
all through woods unexplored
those ephemeral motions that go by
widout notice and yet
those that yearn for mention through heady days
of stability, peace and mobility

I have lost what i have wanted
I have regained that which i didnt expect
the path which holds me is one i cant leave
and yet is this what those unspoken triumphs
were supposed to perish with?
have i forgotton those ribbons which led me
to forests unknown and the myths which became reality?

Do i want to let the path lead me?
Do i want to let the forks decide my future?
or must i choose the stray streak of light
that crosses this path and go into innate darkness
and yet to astounding glory be answerable
for i chose to choose the dark and not be led into beauty

Ach ohh Luthien i admire thy courage and beauty
I so hold that i may follw thee too.......

The funnier part of Life

Achievement through discipline is one of your keynotes in this lifetime. To fulfill your soul purpose you will need much patience, tenacity, endurance, and most likely a long period of apprenticeship or labor. You are equipped by nature to withstand the periods of self-denial, austerity, grueling study, repetitive practice, or "doing without" that your path in life requires. Serious about your aims and, above all, a realist, you are willing to pay your dues in order to get where you want to go, and whether your goal is spiritual attainment, development of a talent, or material success, you want to go to the top. Some degree of rigorous training or hardship (inner or outer) is apt to be a prerequisite to your eventual achievement, swati, and unlike apparently "luckier" souls, you have to work hard and pull your own weight early in life. Often, too, you have to wait, to delay gratification, and plan your strategies very carefully and shrewdly in order to gain your desired ends. Through this, you develop a certain toughness and firmness, emotional detachment, inner resourcefulness and self-determination, which keeps you going when the road gets a little rocky on the way to the pinnacle you are aiming for. One pitfall you need to beware of is your tendency to become hardened and cynical, secretly envious of those whose way is less orduous or whose outlook and attitude is more trusting and carefree (irresponsible and immature, to your way of thinking). You seem to be given more "tests", frustration, responsibilities, restrictions than others, and as a result, tend to view the world as an unfriendly place or life as a struggle. It is important for you not to become bitter because of this, or to try to take shortcuts, as these will almost certainly come back to haunt you later. The first half of your life, in particular, may seem heavy or hard, while the fruits of your steady efforts come to you later

The essence of this lifetime is that you must prove yourself, swati, and this you know at a deep level, and feel as a sort of inner pressure. (it can be next to impossible to get you to relax and enjoy yourself, to waste time or money or anything frivolous, or to gamble on anything you are not certain will yield real, tangible benefits). Because of your very strong (even if undefined) sense of purpose. Even your recreation is apt to be done in a calculated manner. You weigh the potential risks involved, and usually on the side of safety, for you have a very strong head to know where you are going and to be in control. Thus, the true experience of play tends to elude you, since it requires letting go of control, a certain indifference to results in preference for a free flowing openness to the moment. You do have a rather dry, ironic sense of humor, and it is important for you to keep that side of you alive as it gives you balance and a healthy perspective on things.

The modern world has often heard of the inferior status of women in society during the dark middle ages (as they were called). Female infanticide common then repulses us; the so-called modern generation with thoughts of upliftment occupying foremost place in our minds. And yet I question you... Is this attitude only escapist in nature? Because though we the women in city consider ourselves free form the yoke of oppression of female inequality do our sisters in the rural illiterate consider themselves as lucky and as free?

This is the question that that Jha’s film tries to answer for us. A world without women, without the female support a world full of animals and the behavior of animals after catching a glance of the forbidden fruit which they succeeded in destroying- this forms the essence of Jha’s movie. Any secquence for mthe movie is worth a watch—whether it is the first glance of Kalki, or her rape the first time or the birth of a child admist caste war. These spine chilling movies sort of exposes the truth that many have chosen to ignore or probably are afraid to admit.

However some scenes like kalki getting raped time and again while being tied to the pole at the cowshed which were probably meant to evoke repulsion succeed in going a step futher. They evoke numbness after the initial shock of brutality wears off. Having chosen an excellent subject after his last venture (A very very Silent Movie) and having a great storyline Jha’s direction somehow misleads us to espect something more than rapes and more rapes on the screen. However if the intent with which the movie was shot was to create an awareness in the society about the treatment meted out to womenfolk in villages and also to enthrall international audiences with the true horror of the quintessential Indian rural social stigma faced by these same women; the effect is well executed and above felt.

One cannot find words for the Kalki( tulip Joshi) for the experience that she has undergone while shooting the movie. If today her people refuse to speak to the movie maker one can bery well understand their feeling. However the intentions of the maker and the movie were supposed to be repulsive, forceful and glaring. They have very well succeeded in this.

One thus would find it difficult to believe a life without women. After this drama it would be nigh impossible to contemplate the prospect about life at all without those whom be consider to be inferior and meant to be trodden upon. Without a past or a future Matrubhoomi truly remains in our midst with Kalki in our minds.