EXACTLY what I was thinking. Only much, much better.

The First Snowflake
By: The Boy Least Likely To


It was the first
Snowflake to fall
Before the storm
No one noticed
It as it fell
All by itself
It wasn’t long before it
Began to melt

It felt special
All on its own
Out in the cold
But when all of
The other snowflakes
Began to fall

The little snowflake just became
Lost in the storm
And suddenly it didn’t feel
Special at all

Snow kept falling
But no two snowflakes
Are ever the same
Each one is special in its
Own little way
And that first little snowflake is still
Special to me

Children of the 80s - do you hear me? We are now officially Outdated.

RIP Walkman.


When I saw this little piece of news, I remembered how my elder sister (also a Child of the Eighties) had wanted a Walkman for some occasion and how it was such a Big Deal when my grandmother got her one. And then of course how I got to use it a couple years after that. (Yay for second hand stuff!)

I bet if I actually cared to think about it, I could come up with a dozen such things that indicate I can no longer call myself a "youngster". Just yesterday I had a friend tell me how his body doesn't process alcohol the way it used to. Sad stuff indeed.

The silver lining, if you wish, is that at least Microsoft Word still recognizes "Walkman" as a valid word. :)
Now off to work for me, I wish I still had a Walkman though. Especially since I forgot my iPod at home today.

My list of (current) Epic Fails

1. I have been trying for about six months now to play the guitar. Epic fail.

2. Work. Epic fail.

3. For a while, the only nice living thing in my room was a little spotted ladybird. Contrary to my instinctual response to insects ("Die, insect, die!!"), I let it stay because, you know, ladybirds are pretty and it made me smile. The next day I saw it fried to death on the light bulb. Epic fail.

4. My vow to not turn into a shopaholic - Epic fail.

5. My current hair experiment (aka hair style). Epic fail.

6. I swear the weekends have only 5 hours per day now. Epic fail.

7. Attempt to make best friend happy(ier). Epic fail. (Re-do)

On the other hand,

1. Shopping for baby niece/nephew - Priceless!

2. Kurkure, green mango juice that tastes like jaljeera, samosa and Kesar Pista ice cream - about $20. Being surprised with all this, and more - Priceless!

I have really weird dreams. I know that all dreams are weird to some extent, but I feel like lately my subconscious is developing sure signs of insanity. And it’s not much longer till it manifests on my conscious self. Just a polite warning to those who actually have to deal with me on a daily basis.

Ok, so amongst my many bizarre dream experiences, I am about to share with you a couple. Actually, maybe just one. No need to advertise the insanity too much.

Scene 1: Here I am, in my parents’ bedroom, while they’re watching TV. I tell my mom, that I have a worm inside my brain that is incurable (which was scary in itself.) So of course my mom does what every loving mother would do in such a situation. She picks up a gun and shoots me in the head. Good, now I’m lying on the bed telling my parents that I’m still alive, and they need to take me to a hospital! So, they help me up, and I walk out of the room.

Scene 2: My father is driving me to the hospital, on a snowy, icy, wintry day. In a big, rednec.. uh, I mean, red pick-up truck. He leaves me at the hospital door because “he can’t find parking anywhere” and I have to walk across the ice with a worm and a bullet stuffed in my head.

In the hospital, to treat my condition (the bullet wound) they cut off my head. Oooff course.

Scene 3: I run away from the hospital. And now I’m running away from a woman who wants to steal some "family secrets" from me. On a very brown, very sandy landscape with dunes or hills or something. Did I mention I’m a boy at this point? Yes, try and keep up. [Now that I think about it, it was probably because I didn’t have a brain anymore. Haha BUuuuurrrnn!!]

I do remember wondering (in my dream) that if I’ve been decapitated, how in the world is my vision still working!?

Needless to say, I woke up all sweaty and with my heart pounding. But I recovered soon enough and called my parents to tell them about the atrocities they committed. What did they have to say about it?

“Hahahaha”

Earth Hour - March 27, 2010

Lights were switched off, candles were lit and the windows were left open, so that the cool air could come and go as it pleased. For a while I felt like I was home, in India, when a power outage would strike without any notice and we would sit in the balcony, with candles lit and doors and windows left open to invite the cool breeze in. It would be quiet, except for the trucks on the road. It was the kind of silence I grew up with, the kind I like. The view from my balcony was breathtaking at night. What was unremarkable in the light – just roads and stones and apartments – would transform in the dark to a pretty pattern of lights and sounds that would just somehow match. It helped that our apartment is on the sixth floor, and the highway is just the right distance for the sound of passing cars to be pleasing instead of making you want to throw bricks at them.

But, I digress. Earth hour. It was more like two and a half earth hours. And that was because it was spent in the company of nice smelling candles, good friends and good conversations. I will just leave it at that. Candles, friends, conversations and conservation. ;)

You're not the boss of me!!

Diamond is a tiny little brown dog. She’s very feisty and spunky, like a small brown dog should be. I know this because I and three other adults, which included a police officer, ran around the main roads of town trying to catch her.

We strategized, and she slipped right through our fingers. We coaxed, and she saw right through our pretenses. We lunged, and she lunged further away from us. We slowed traffic so that she wouldn't get run over. We asked strangers sitting on the side of the road if they had any food and they looked at us like we were in cahoots with the crazy guy at the end of the street.

And all the time, the game was just getting more and more challenging for her. So, first it was just Mr Dogsitter. Then two, then three then four people! All trying to catch me, huh? Well, I’ll show them, she thought. I’ll show them who runs things around here. Here’s what I’ll do. I’ll take them out of the apartment complex first, then on to the highway. Then when they get really scared, I’ll take them to the parking lot where there’s lots of places for me to hide. Then let’s see what they come up with.

But what she didn’t take into account was that four people determined to catch a little dog will outrun her. By the end, all of us were panting and wheezing but we had her surrounded. She looked at all of us in turn, sizing us up. Then, like no big deal, she crawls into Mr Dogsitter’s arms. She was a naughty little runaway dog. But what fun she had that day!

I wonder if the dogsitter ever told the owner about Diamond’s little adventure.

The day it flooded in A-mess.

The day began when I got a call from a friend at 6.30 am in the morning. Any call at 6.30 am is either bad news or drunk dial. When she said there is water around her apartment, I never thought it would be 5 to 6 feet of water. Once they got on dry land (via rescue boat), and we walked around our neighbourhood trying to assess the levels of the water and the severity of the flood, it was clear we were pretty much stranded on an island and campus was completely inaccessible. So, I promptly got into panic gear, went to Hyvee and bought emergency supplies – 6 bars of snickers, two tins of canned fruit and some fresh fruit, and a bag of chips. I am reanalyzing my emergency-coping abilities. (Fortunately, a part of my brain was working the night before and I had parked my car away from the low lying parking spaces that got inundated with flood water).

Once we got home, we had nothing to do – we had no internet, nowhere to go. So I set about doing the one thing I had been putting off for a while – cleaning! I cleaned and sprayed and scrubbed for two hours. I even cleaned the dustbins. Who cleans the dustbins, I’d like to know and shake hands gloves with.

After that, boredom set in. While the others were catching up on sleep, I studied, I cleaned up my computer, discovered my iPod isn’t working and then went out for a walk to… Hyvee! After I got back and started cooking dinner, I learned that the water in Ames is “contaminated” (they were very ambiguous about this part), and that we aren’t supposed to flush the toilets or use the shower, and that there has been a boil alert since the morning that I knew nothing of. I set about boiling water in all the pots and pans I owned. After we had dinner two hours later than my tummy had planned, we went back to.. guess where? Hyvee! And bought gallons of drinking water.

Last thing at night, I did after all receive a drunk dial, and the day felt complete. It was all in a day’s work for me, but my heart goes out to the people who have lost their homes, their cars and their belongings, and in one case, their loved one, in the flood.

P.S. The pictures aren’t mine. The first was captured by university photographer Bob Elbert, and the second is from a weather lab. I will put up pictures from my camera either when the internet at home starts working, or when I develop enough presence of mind to bring my camera and its cord to campus.

The Shrink is In

Well. Of all the rubbish that's on YouTube, you would've thought someone would've put the video that actually teaches you some life lessons.
If you've heard of the television series "That 70's Show", you might know of Hyde and Jackie. And then you might've seen the one episode where Hyde, in his infinite wisdom teaches Jackie the power of being Zen -.-

It doesn't matter if you use it on that one really annoying person in your life, or on the nicer people who PMS sometimes (yes, even guys PMS.) or with people who are being absolutely chipper. (God knows that can be annoying.) It will faze the unfazed and unfaze the perfectly fazed. That is the power of Zen. -.-

I'm not much of a fan, but I did learn some things from that show. Now, I pass on the wisdom to you. The next time you feel the blood rising, or you're just bored with life, say these words to the person in front of you: "It's cool." and when they ask you what that means, you may move on to "Whatever". Even if they are not in front of you, but you're just plain mad, say it. You must not underestimate the power of Zen -.- The words will soothe and apathize. Excuse me, what? You say there's no such word as "apathize"? Whatever.

Use these words at your discretion, but use them wisely, little grasshoppers. And remember, "You can't teach someone to be Zen, Jackie, you can only learn to be Zen." And don't let your opponent underestimate you either, for "where Zen ends, ass-kicking begins!"

This post is dedicated to Aparajita, aka Aplu, who introduced me to the world of Zen. (You can find her and her amazing talent here - http://aparajita-r.blogspot.com/ )

"Golden-Brown"

I have no right to be angry, and I'm not. I was not caught unawares or unexpectedly. But still, it pierced a hole through my heart when you left. I would not change a single thing, from beginning to end. Rest in Peace seems too dull for you. May you wag your tail into eternity, and find an endless garden with lots of dirt worth sniffing, other dogs worth barking at, and lots of trees worth peeing on. :) and of course "happydog" biscuits. And no baths. Ok, you get the picture.

To my darling Buzo, Thank you.

City of Blinding Lights

Las Vegas, Nevada

Girls just wanna have fun!

SOooo.. After the brain bending brilliance and intense intensity of my last post, I knew I had to post something to redeem myself immediately. Of course, I never do anything immediately. It's a matter of principle.

On those same (sane? No, same.) lines, while I was supposed to be diligently working for a lab meeting, this is what I ended up doing.

Aaahh, it's so pink I love it!

Bright, weird colours after like a hundred years. I feel 19 again. :) and I miss my girlfriends! You are my pink nails! :D

"May you find your river" - Ajeet dada

Who says silence is golden? It’s silver. It’s pretty, sparkling, molten silver, which ripples so soft when a voice falls on it. It’s a shimmery silver shawl, smooth as silk and yet warm like milk that’s been heated just enough. It covers my cold shoulders, and envelops me in its afterglow. It’s inside this shawl that I know what I truly want, and what I truly am.. I wish my mind would stop talking long enough for me to find out. :)

ps. The title of this post is a note written on a birthday present- "Siddhartha" by Herman Hesse, a book I am still struggling to understand.

Flutter flutter little bird
How I wonder what you heard.
Whisper it out, shout aloud
It won't really reach the crowd.
thinking pondering
keep on wondering
You'll be far gone
When I stop sulking.

Why it’s about time for the Spring to start (and the cold to stop) :

1. My feet are tired of wearing socks all the time.

2. I’m starting to get dreams where my brother is a bunch of spring onions that’s wilting because of the cold.

DIE MOUSE DIE!!!

Dear Little Grey Mouse,

I feel bad that you had to die in order for us to live, and so I’m writing this to explain to you my side of the story.

You see, your presence was not just irrationally scary to us, but also impractically problematic. If it had been just you, we might… MIGHT.. have gotten over our phobia of anything smaller than us that squeaks. No, the clinching evidence against you was the potential of catching rabies, salmonella, or the plague. Also the fact that we wanted our kitchen back. I wanted to sleep soundly without wondering if I would wake up to a furry creature scampering over my legs. This apartment aint big enough for the three of us. And being bigger than you, and having access to luxuries such as mouse traps, we won.

I want to clarify here, though, that your death was not brought about wholly by us. It took some sleuthing, but we figured out that the cause of your death was the rat poison put in our cupboard by the authorities (that we alerted about your presence. But I’m still hoping that buys me some time from purgatory.) Eating it made your system go berserk (thanks to weird pharmacology that our room-mate didn’t understand and hence neither did I) and you felt yourself going crazy and probably committed suicide in a mouse trap. I like to think that you thought it was a more noble way to die than to run out through the drain and die in the cold. And I applaud you for that.

Now I wonder – did you go to heaven or hell? (I’m not sure I believe in either, but I have a feeling you did) If you’re in heaven, I hope that you will have the heart to forgive us. If you’re in hell, then…well…maybe I can apologize when I meet you there.

Sincerely,

The trap setter.

You are tantalizing from afar, daring me to plant a kiss, and scar that innocence that you somehow, still carry around. You are a muse, and what a wonderful muse, to fill my lonely imagination with unkempt tales of new adventures. You amuse, and you bemuse with equal ease. To my eyes, that crave their love, you seem perfect, a savior. The stars line up, and the world makes complete sense and absolutely no sense at the same time.

The morning brings solace, and reality with it. You are a muse, and that is all- a muse to amuse and bemuse. You are half truth, half imagination. You are amazing, and filled with a love that is not mine to claim. You will figure this out, and then I will be without friend or muse, once again.

Sunset

Good morning to you, Valentine

Did you count your stars, like I did mine?

We started with excitement, flowers and wine

with a “Good morning to you, Valentine.”

The day is past, the sun is set

The morning light went by so quick

the afternoon was quiet and dull

And I wept with my head on your shoulder.

Who knew the dark would be this cold,

That distances would be this bold?

The night has come, to test our might

Good night to you, my Valentine.

Strawberry Necklace

Swallow that pride, darling
and stiff upper lip.
We all gotta learn, baby
this day or the next.
So tie up that pretty hair
and wear your stockings today
coz vanity will get you nowhere
when you gotta beg your heart away.

Cheers, my good fellow.

It's like being in a glass of champagne. You know the pretty beige at the bottom, where bubbles rise in a sparkling display of cheer and weightlessness? Not that. It feels more like I'm lying on the surface of the liquid. The part that no one looks at, which is turbulent and full of bubbles bursting all around me while I try frantically to miss all of them. In the hope that I can escape and figure out why something that is celebratory, and deemed by the world to be absolutely wonderful, is threatening to burst a bubble right under my dainty little ass and shoot me straight off into the heavens.