tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-372824002024-03-05T04:49:07.882+00:00Thoughts of a confused mindOi!! So you are here?? Welcome to my inner sanctum. I trust you won't be disappointed. Stay tuned, as I mumble along now.Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06394200137631383145noreply@blogger.comBlogger181125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37282400.post-49890325413394480372013-08-07T09:35:00.003+01:002013-08-07T09:35:32.431+01:00A new address : The Other Bong<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Just a quick update. Over the years I have realised I have outgrown this blog. I am found these days at <a href="http://theotherbong.weebly.com/" target="_blank">The Other Bong</a> focussing more on my current interests than a mundane rambling. Hope to see you there.<br />
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Once again the new address is <a href="http://theotherbong.weebly.com/" target="_blank">The Other Bong</a>.<br />
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This blog will be taken offline shortly!</div>
Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06394200137631383145noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37282400.post-58294017150559876872012-08-22T16:26:00.000+01:002012-08-22T16:29:49.776+01:00She<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">She has been wearing black for long!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The seasons have changed,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The hairs have grayed,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Dances denied, </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Rules not defied,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Desires thwarted,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">A trot, a hop, a skip,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Bring the colours out,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">She has been wearing black too long!!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">She wore colours once,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Ribbons and flowers adorned her,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Laughter ruled,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Carefree was existence,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Strong arms to break the fall,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Soft shoulders to rest on,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">A tender touch to allay fears,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">She was a daughter once,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">She wore colours once!!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">She graced the floor long ago,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">With elegance she waltzed,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Hearts set racing,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Songs sung to serenade,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">A shy smile, </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">A sly glance,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Holding hands, promises made, </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Dazzling white and Vows exchanged,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">She graced the floor long ago!!</span></div>
</div>
Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06394200137631383145noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37282400.post-33190061365443132272011-01-31T11:55:00.101+00:002011-01-31T21:46:41.599+00:00In the alleys of London<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">"You can't photograph if you're not in love." </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">W. Eugene Smith</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Apparently Eugene Smith told that to a student of his once. General notions aside, I kinda agree with the statement. One has to be in "Love with the Subject" when taking photos. The simple reason is, if you do not appreciate what you see, how will you translate your vision into a photo. A photo is not just an assimilation of aperture and shutter control, muddled with an understanding of balance, composition and other sundry stuff. Its about being soaked into the moment, into what you see, that which you wish to capture with that device in your hand. Just like you always like the object of your affection to be looking good, similarly with photos you want everything to be perfect. If that means waiting hours for the perfect moment, so be it. If that means going to odd lengths, hanging off a ledge and braving the cold, then that is the price one has to pay. It has to be an emotional investment.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I have had a similar love affair with the alleys of the City of London otherwise known as the Square Mile or simply the City. Soaked in history at every nook and cranny, a walk through these alleys will always lead you to a corner hitherto unknown to you. And sometimes even if you've been there before, you want to be there time and again. Its a photographer's paradise, a history buff's holy land (exaggerating, but please humour me over here). It was on such a walk on Saturday, along with a friend of mine I set about walking some of the alleys of London. During the course of the walk we came across the London Stone on 111 Cannon Street. Not much remains of this stone today. In fact, if you don't know where to look for it you may even miss it. Embedded in a cavity in the southside of St. Swithin's Church about 300 years ago (the church no longer stands), the folklore surrounding the stone makes some refer to it as Brutus' Stone (of Brutus of Troy, after whom Britain is named. Not to be confused with Marcus Brutus).</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><br />
<div style="border: medium none;"> <br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/confusedsam/5401185790/" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="The Old Wine Shades by Sumit D., on Flickr"><img alt="The Old Wine Shades" height="320" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5252/5401185790_fb422a5c47_m.jpg" width="211" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old Wine and Shades</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="border: medium none;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">About 5 minutes away when walking towards Monument, a quick right leads one to Martin Lane, where at 6 Union House one would come across Old Wine and Shade, arguably one of the oldest (there are establishments older than that) pubs in the City. Turn left and across the road which leads to London bridge and one would be standing in front of Monument, a memorial for the 1666 Great Fire of London. Interesting bit about most pubs in the City are they date from around 1667/1668, owing to the fact that most of them were burned down during the Great Fire. Walking north along Gracechurch street, we went through Leadenhall Market, took a peek at Lloyds of London, through St. Peter's Alley onto Cornhill before going turning left into St. Michael's Alley.</span></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="border: medium none; text-align: justify;"><br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/confusedsam/5400591093/" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Jamaica Wine House by Sumit D., on Flickr"><img alt="Jamaica Wine House" height="240" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5017/5400591093_907f95bd16_m.jpg" width="161" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jamaica Wine House</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">It is in St. Michael's Alley, that one will come across Jamaica Wine House, which started out as London's oldest coffee houseback in 1652. Being a Saturday it wore a desolate look as does most of the financial district of London. Carrying on along Lombard street we reached Bank, carried on past Bank of England and Royal Exchange towards Guildhall and finally London Wall, before taking a break from the chill in a coffee shop near St Paul's.</span></div><div style="border: medium none; text-align: justify;"><div style="border: medium none;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">A couple of hours break, accompanied by some coffee and conversations and we were off towards Chancery Lane to check two of the other old boys of pub lore, Ye Old Mitre Tavern (1542) and Cittie of York (1430) before heading on towards more busy parts of the city to wrap up the evening.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">It is because of this love affair that I have been able to learn the little that I have learnt when looking through the viewfinder. It's a charming journey which only get hindered by the regular vagaries of life. But only for a while.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Cheerio</span><br />
<br />
P.S. The shots included in this post may not seem high quality. Kindly follow the links on the right strip to the Flickr page.<br />
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<br />
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</div>Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06394200137631383145noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37282400.post-57422087962934100372011-01-27T10:45:00.000+00:002011-01-27T10:45:40.683+00:00On a cold day I'm reminded of...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">... a warm duvet</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">... a mug of hot chocolate</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">... Home Alone (the movie)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">... Serendipity (the movie)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">... snuggling in with a book</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">... Hot toast with melting butter and an omellete</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">... <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poha_(rice)">Poha</a>/<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Upma">Upma</a> at Buddha's Paradise (a cafe in Koregaon Park, Pune, Maharashtra)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">... Buttered toast and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anda_Bhurjee">Anda Bhurji</a> at Vohuman's Cafe (a cafe near Pune Station, Maharashtra)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">... a hot bowl of Maggi</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">... Luchi-aloo'r dom (A standard Bengali breakfast delicacy)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">... a big English breakfast</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">... Aloo <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paratha">paratha</a> (Indian fried flat bread stuffed with mashed potato - spicy or otherwise) at Shashi's (a small eatery in Majitar, Sikkim)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">... roaming about dressed like <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Feluda">Feluda</a> (a detective created by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Satyajit_Ray">Satyajit Ray</a>) in a Kurta-pyjama with a shawl draped over and the sleeves rolled up</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">... watching a Ray classic</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">It's uncharacteristically cold today in London, not the sort which would chill you the bones but the sort which would make you vote for a lie-in than a walk to work. Sadly, that is an option not many can exercise. So here I am reminiscing the days the when I could enjoy a leisurely cold day.</span></div>Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06394200137631383145noreply@blogger.com13Westminster, London, UK51.5001524 -0.126236251.286429399999996 -0.5931552 51.7138754 0.34068279999999995tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37282400.post-17741874529452152542010-10-20T11:56:00.000+01:002010-10-20T11:56:33.517+01:00Its been 2 years...<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">After 2 years in a cold, wet country (for the better part of the year), I was sceptical of myself in dealing with the Calcutta heat and humidity as the plane cruised above the Deccan plateau. A few more hours and it would be an end to an excruciatingly long journey not so much in terms of the flight hours but it was the wait for a connecting flight that made me age and tire at a rate I thought could never exist. But that’s different. I was humming “Country Roads” almost all the way from London to Calcutta. Yes, I was excited. But I was also worried about the heat. I was never a fan of heat and humidity, which I why I loved my years in Pune and Sikkim. The weather accompanied with great company compensated for anything that I might have missed out on for not living in a Calcutta or Mumbai. The weather in London was simply perfect for my taste.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 116.85pt; text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">At Calcutta airport, after having gone through customs I stepped out and for a moment felt I had stepped into a sauna. Out came the hand towel, and for a moment I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the crowd. I remembered noisy, but my ears had forgotten how noisy. The drive back from the airport was nice and quick. At which point I realized not much had noticeably changed in birthtown. Calcutta greeted me with mild weather and rains for the next couple of days. And then it showed its true colours and the temperature went straight to the 30s and I was left gasping for breath. But there were things to be done, friends & relatives to meet. I soldiered on through it all with a trusted hand towel. Reminded me of the “Hitchhiker’s Guide to Galaxy”. Hehe…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A couple of days and then the ‘lazy’ city transformed into a throbbing and pulsating living thing which would dance, sing and pray for Goddess Durga. Unbelievable but true. The average man in the city turns into a bundle of energy as they traverse the length and breadth of the city to have a look at as many as possible of the 3000+ idols in place across the city. There of course are a few major ones, which will always find a place on the ardent pandal-hopper’s list. And then there were folks like me, who knew the city when it was Calcutta and not ‘Kolkata’, of the times when pandals were crowded but not so much that it would sap the energy out of you, of times when even weather seemed to cool down to allow the revelers respite from the heat and even treat them with a cool breeze. Such folks, laze about at home, visit a few handful of the nearby pandals and generally go about their pandal hopping on the telly. And of course a personal deterrent was the weather. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Despite that, I went about a fair bit and did dig into what I saw. A little bit of the street food (which is honestly to die for), a little bit of the lighting, the glamour, the glitz, the unshakeable enthusiasm of people from all backgrounds. Before I knew it I was in the groove, I could go on and on. Till I returned home! It was on one such trip that I took a walk through a section on North Calcutta, while giving a visiting friend a short tour of the ancient bylanes of Baghbazar, Shyambazar, Shovabazar (including the palace) and Kumartuli. I had always wanted to do that, yet it took me all these years to finally manage it. Kumartuli in particular where the artisans give shape to the deities and are then transported across the world. Situated almost on the banks of river Ganges, the sculpture area is a narrow street. A walk through allows one to peek into the various stages of idol construction. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnqGH83NYB-PxQ8HqJNo8FbCmax6Xr9Q8Siryu7Hg6CMe9jEpsfRT5CU-ZjMk_0QCIZXbXnveaKROy3ahT3az0CJNU-U3U9Vc9J2IqSyuuEa36iUxo8Du5kKJvK7ij65MLKXvLLg/s1600/Nabami_005_edit.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnqGH83NYB-PxQ8HqJNo8FbCmax6Xr9Q8Siryu7Hg6CMe9jEpsfRT5CU-ZjMk_0QCIZXbXnveaKROy3ahT3az0CJNU-U3U9Vc9J2IqSyuuEa36iUxo8Du5kKJvK7ij65MLKXvLLg/s400/Nabami_005_edit.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Idols at Kumartuli</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span></o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Meanwhile, certain things did hit me straight in the eye, primary being the cost of living. It seems it has sky rocketed. Maybe it was always increasing at the same pace, but being part of the system I adapted as things progressed. A gap of 2 years certainly does have a jarring effect on the senses and sort of made me withdraw into a shell. I end up questioning the validity of the pricing strategies used. My mind questions, why certain products which used to be cheaper in India are no longer so, and the ones which are apparently cheaper are not worth the money. I’ve been told its all about the inflation. I do not understand that well enough. All that I know is I’m left wondering why should I be paying more for something which has not improved in the 2 years I have been away. Funny bit is I see more people spending in Calcutta. Is it the plastic money or is it for real? I don’t know, but I wonder. I was also left wondering as to why the authorities are keen on laying new tube line without taking care of the other infrastructures which need urgent repair. They said Bengal was improving. I agree. I see developments which are wonderful, but I also see things which required attention but didn’t get what it deserved. Some have been tended to but it resembles hogwash, some have been well taken care of. In a single stroke, Calcutta has progressed yet managed to stay where it was. It is so contradictory.</span></div>Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06394200137631383145noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37282400.post-84701384860849126482010-03-02T11:18:00.003+00:002010-05-12T15:40:05.234+01:00Big cities...<div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">There is something about the big cities, the metropolis. They never sleep. there is always a part of it which is always awake, keeping the city alive giving it a breath of air whenever things seem to dull down and make it all seem vaguely mundane. The bright lights, the shady corners, the softly lit cafes the pubs playing with darkness, the blaring music of a nondescript nightclub, the guys with their gelled up hair, the girls in their skimpy clothes and at times garish make-ups - nothing changes. Travel as far and wide as you might nothing ever changes. I started walking in a big city, not a global metropolis but a national one for sure. I ran in another, I studied in another and then I spent a few years nestled somewhere in nature's garden soaking in its beauty learning to appreciate and yet.... and yet the city in me never went to sleep, it remained awake, throbbing, pulsing for a release, waiting to live up again... perhaps also make up for the lost time. Lost time?? Perhaps!! To the rational minded there certainly was not waste of time, but to the heart of a city it perhaps was. And so, the self came back to a pulsating metropolis and since then has hopped from one to another, across continents and intends to travel far and wide, to soak in, and sink the teeth into what can only be termed the only homogeneous culture of the world. The global culture, the common religion - the big city!<br /><br />Apart from the well known attractions which cities like NY, London, Mumbai etc offer, one gets to see a myriad cross-section of the population, the haves and the have-nots, and some stuck somewhere in between leading a heavily compromised life in hopes of a brighter and glittering future. It is this section of the population which really captures the imagination, drives the plots for so many novelists and movie-makers out there. It’s the common man who drives the cities, who lends the cities the much needed character which sustains them over time. London wouldn’t have been what it is today if not for the common man who walked the streets for the past 2000 years. The great fire of London which wiped out the plague wouldn’t have happened if not for a fire in a bakery as a result a lot of the cities physical grandeur would have been different than we see it now. Great men make history, common men sustain it.<br /></span></div>Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06394200137631383145noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37282400.post-69700167808856898652010-02-24T15:10:00.002+00:002010-04-27T15:10:06.474+01:0010 ways to get late for work<p style="text-align: justify;">Having observed my travel patterns to work over the past month or so, I have managed to come up with this list. Feel free to add if you wish.<br /></p><ol><li>Wake up way past the usual hour.</li><li>Wander about listlessly in a groggy state in your pjs</li><li>Stroll instead of walk to the bus stop</li><li>Miss the bus, then miss the tube and finally miss the train - all by a whisker</li><li>Train services deciding to halt in the middle of nowhere, halfway through your journey for 30 minutes.</li><li>Engineering works (this could lead you to skip an entire day's work)</li><li>Tubes playing up with - signal failure, someone being sick, someone raising the alarm</li><li>Realising you forgot your phone/railcard/wallet while at the bus stop and then going back to get them.</li><li>Get caught in a downpour with no transport and a brolly to see you through - find a shelter to keep yourself dry.</li><li>And finally set off for work, realise you have locked yourself out without the keys to the front gate and wait till one the neighbours does happen to step out and thus let you out. - oh the joy!! :P</li></ol><p style="text-align: justify;">Meanwhile a click from Salisbury. Thought would share it.<br /></p><br /><br /><div style="padding: 3px; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/confusedsam/3867857954/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2567/3867857954_4656362847.jpg" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" alt="" /></a><br /></div><span style="margin-top: 0px;font-size:0.8em;" ><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/confusedsam/3867857954/">The cathedral spire</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/confusedsam/">ConfusedSam</a>.</span></div>Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06394200137631383145noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37282400.post-19920853194740578032009-12-22T15:08:00.000+00:002010-04-27T15:16:31.811+01:00Just peeking in here...<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">More than two weeks into the job now. It seems I’m slipping into one of my older routines where I would live by the clock from Monday to Friday evening and then freak out over the weekend or sleep through it. That’s the pattern over the past couple of weeks. With Christmas a few days away, work is sluggish. Everyone is keener on getting out than anything else. To top it, it’s been really cold the past few days, with the occasional bursts of snow – last evening being the most recent one. Not that anyone does mind that. Some in fact, are hoping for a white Christmas. Nothing quite as heavy as the one earlier this year which brought London to a standstill but enough to allow for a snow fight J However, today has been bright and sunny with mild cold spells. Feels good from the glass confines of work at Kings Cross, but out there it’s cold enough to numb the old self. Anyways, it seems to be turning into more of a weather update, so I shall sign off now, while I look forward to an evening out with colleagues.<br />Cheerio</span></div>Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06394200137631383145noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37282400.post-39136173308003314672009-12-09T15:24:00.000+00:002010-04-27T15:16:31.812+01:00A StartHalf the week has gone by. I started at my new job. The induction was at Birmingham for a group of 10. The first two days were pretty much easy flowing with the induction. Listening to talks and learning about a few things to get around in the firm is all that was done. Having put us up at the Hilton Metropole (Don’t raise that eyebrow, it’s only a business hotel), perhaps the best bit was the evening out at Jimmy Spice, Solihull for dinner, followed by drinks at a nearby Wetherspoon pub. Now in case one intends to get around to Solihull in the future I do recommend Jimmy Spice as a dinner, but do ensure you have a large enough apetite else you might be sorry not to have tried half the stuff on the menu. It’s a buffet spot, with the menu ranging between Chinese, Thai, Indian and Italian. Quite a mix I daresay, but well worth the money. I digress!!<br /><br />The revelry carried on well past midnight, and yet by 10 all were at their respective desks on Tuesday. Sharp? Not really. But then that’s just part of the game I suppose, Work hard, party harder. Wednesday, I reported at the base office in Leatherhead and managed to start my stint by getting lost in the town and harking up the wrong road searching for an elusive road which as per Google maps should have been easy to find. Luckily, a fellow I knew hadn’t made it yet and managed to pick me up on the way to work. I’m sure this would be something to laugh about in years to come, but as of this morning did make me feel like a prize ass. Wading through the documentations and other procedures to land a project, while meeting up with a few other folks from office, the day comes to a lazy end in the early winter dusk.<br /><br />The journey back was quite interesting as I observed the number of people of who commute from London to work in nearby locations, while catching up on a bit of sleep. I dare say, sleep would be a luxury now except for weekends. Anyhow as I sign out for the day I look forward to making a good start to the second innings of my career. Cheers!!Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06394200137631383145noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37282400.post-41106695400074908702009-11-02T16:52:00.005+00:002009-11-03T13:02:47.357+00:00A world of advertisements!!!<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">The past couple of weeks have been really busy, and I mean over the top busy. Festivals, birthday, luncheons, job applications - the works. Not a moment went by which one could term to be extremely dull, though at times the lack of a notebook did bug me. Well moving on from lamenting about the loss of my favourite gadget, I discovered there was more to life than the internet, and there's a lot of thing that the internet makes it easier to deal with.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">To start with, thanks to the internet I can submit applications from the comfort of my favourite couch or even while I'm lazing about in bed, stay in touch with a huge crowd which frankly in the era bygone was not that simple or cheap an option, twitter about (not much a fan yet), watch movies, and access vital information from simple things like "How to make lasagne?" to mundane stuff like the "How to travel from Harrow to Luton?". And yet, thanks to the internet and the gadgets which are associated with it, one used to spend a lot of time on it. In fact, last time I checked I used to log in first thing in the morning and would be at it on and off all day. Addiction?? May be!!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Anyway, with the loss of the beloved notebook, what I discovered that I did have a few things to do when am done borrowing it off my flatmate. I could read a lot more, practice guitar, take up tennis again, cook, actually call people up rather than just promising (must thank O2 for the free minutes though, not that am not paying but the scheme is simply great!!), go over to friends and have a face to face chat... the works. Reminds me of life before internet.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Speaking of calls and stuff, I'm strangely reminded of an advert which I happened to dig out while studying a particular firm for my applications. It made a strong impression because it was simple and did say something very meaningful. Check it out here: </span><a href="http://www.amvbbdo.com/HTML/Work/Classics/BT.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">BT Frustrating</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">. There have been more such like the Man in the Pint Glass. Now if you happen to look it up, it was done by Department of Transport and in my opinion it does reflect the creativity and corporate social responsibility of the advertising firm which came up with that brilliant idea. The idea was to let people know about the consequences of drinking and driving, and in effect deter people from actually doing it. The campaign carried out just before Christmas sure did deter a few I'm sure. Take look at it here: </span></div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Bfjqv5us6-U&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Bfjqv5us6-U&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06394200137631383145noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37282400.post-17523358952337687702009-10-14T13:00:00.001+01:002010-05-12T15:41:00.661+01:00Independent<div style="text-align: left; padding: 3px;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/confusedsam/3786120104/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2561/3786120104_06491936cf.jpg" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" alt="" /></a></div><span style="margin-top: 0px;font-size:0.8em;" ><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/confusedsam/3786120104/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">Friends over coffee</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">, originally uploaded by </span><a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/confusedsam/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">ConfusedSam</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">.</span></div></span></div><p style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">A warm kiss to start the day, a hot cup of coffee to chase the sleep away, the gas company to keep the house warm, the electricity firm to get the toasts done, the saucepan to get the eggs done, or maybe say the microwave, the laptop to check the emails, the tube to take you to work, the janitor to clean the office for you start working, the client to keep the money rolling, the banks to fund the firm's growth, the secretary to handle your appointments, the starbucks lady for your coffee, the subway guy for your fav sub, the coffe shop to meet your friends over, the pint to bring on some cheer, the superstore helper to hunt down your fav sauce, the pot to make your pasta, the tv to chase boredom away, the clock to tell you time's ticking away, the phone to let you talk from confines your room, the bed to crash onto everynight, the duvet to snuggle in on a cold night, and finally the blogger to let you all know about this... and they said we are independent?? funny, eh?</span></span></p>Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06394200137631383145noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37282400.post-85218725176549005132009-10-13T03:54:00.004+01:002009-10-13T03:58:06.344+01:00Road to heaven??<div style="text-align: left; padding: 3px;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/confusedsam/3786121838/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3480/3786121838_a9efb1cd5f.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" alt="" /></a></div><span style=" margin-top: 0px;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/confusedsam/3786121838/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">Road to heaven??</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">, originally uploaded by </span><a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/confusedsam/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">ConfusedSam</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">.</span></div></span></div><p style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">With a future unknown, the traveller moves on hoping to have a better picture at hand at the next stop. The path seems to be clear till the top of the hill, but the road beyond is still unknown. And... and the clouds loom large upon the horizon. What secrets they hold the traveller shall never know. Despite the fear in his heart, his destiny is to keep moving towards what he perceives to be his goal. The truth is yet to unfold with miles to go before it unveils. Such a juncture may not have been foretold save only by the wisest of mankind, for the common man lives a life in predictability. Its the unknown adventure which scares him. The beaten track is what throws him off guard. Perhaps he should have taken the road less travelled. Should he change now? Should he finally search the road to his heaven? Should he?</span></span></p>Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06394200137631383145noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37282400.post-14018479588355906342009-07-29T04:00:00.003+01:002009-07-29T18:41:37.890+01:00Do you know him?<div style="padding: 3px; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/confusedsam/3699017777/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2641/3699017777_e95298c43e.jpg" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" alt="" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="margin-top: 0px;font-size:0;" ><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/confusedsam/3699017777/">staring into the world outside, I wonder</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/confusedsam/">ConfusedSam</a>.</span></div></div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;">The safe confines no longer exist, nor do the safe passage that infused a sense of security in him. Looking back perhaps they never did, just a faint glimmer of them as if a mirage. Yet these castles in air, if one may call them so, allowed him to dream, to hope, to live perhaps. A journey through various landscapes, with different people, through punishment n redemption, through love n hate has brought him far. The boundaries of his world n the real world are fading into oblivion. Standing amongst people rushing to their business, a strange calm envelopes through closed eyes carrying him to a different world... a familiar one. Noise, dust, honks, street hawkers, street urchins, oppressive heat - its all so familiar. As he drifts through this world, he sees a mother seeing off her child at school, a father buying his kid's favourite toy, gets a whiff of the spices and trails of music floating down the corridor. He hears the soft lashes of the river against the boat as the boatman pulls at the oars with the sun setting over the horizon and the cantilever giant being coloured in the hues of the sunset sky. A vibration breaks the reverie. Its quiet again around him. The cars move silently, people talk softly, the air is 'cleaner', the life is 'good'. He sighs at the state of affairs, Looks upwards, higher still till he sees the sky and then walks through those glass doors. He sold everything... everything to be trapped in the cage of steel, concrete and glass.<br /></p><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;">Meet the man who sold his world.<br /></p><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;">Do you know him?</p>Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06394200137631383145noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37282400.post-55567143902981321132009-07-15T02:55:00.002+01:002010-04-27T15:10:06.476+01:00London Eye<div style="padding: 3px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/confusedsam/3699832854/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3115/3699832854_16efca1ff1.jpg" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" alt="" /></a><br /><span style="margin-top: 0px;font-size:0;" ><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/confusedsam/3699832854/">London Eye</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/confusedsam/">ConfusedSam</a>.</span></div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;">In the chequered landscape of London, with the happening of the past weighing down heavily on everyone, with the UK economy having started to recover, the future seems unpredictable. All well laid plans have gone astray, chances once seemingly correct seemed to have been wronged, the wisest have erred, the mavericks have calmed, the teacher has become a student, the student no longer carefree, a dull calm envelopes the mind, the devil runs free in the thoughts... it seems everyone is still staring... into the eye.. the eye of a storm.</p>Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06394200137631383145noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37282400.post-50552759789271133272009-07-15T02:40:00.001+01:002010-04-27T15:39:36.114+01:00Transport in London<div style="padding: 3px; text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/confusedsam/3722407806/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2607/3722407806_fc2e9ea325.jpg" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" alt="" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="margin-top: 0px;font-size:0pt;" ><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/confusedsam/3722407806/">The Tube</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/confusedsam/">ConfusedSam</a>.</span></div></div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;">There are times I really wonder how life would have been for London without the ever present London Underground or the Tube. The strike a month paralysed the city for 2 days, with people commuting by bus and national rail. A journey of 45 minutes took 2 hours. Now, if one was smart one could cut down on the time by taking a seemingly longer route. It called for very smart and efficient planning. It was on the second day that I had to see my father off at Victoria on board the Gatwick bound train for his flight to India. The journey promised to be arduous and yet it was smooth in the end, with least/no hassles and us making it to Victoria in 75 min, nearly 30 minutes before our estimated time of arrival. And that made me appreciate the traffic system in London. something was always working. Always!!!</p>Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06394200137631383145noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37282400.post-63555750243037936852009-05-18T16:22:00.000+01:002009-05-18T16:26:17.617+01:00Melodies of the past<div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;">Not much of a post here. Just happened to hum a tune while loitering about in the kitchen. It took me some time to figure out the song. It was a song I had first during school days and subsequently a lot during college days. The song Dildariya re by Bhoomi, triggered of a mad hunt for songs by Bhoomi, Parash Pathar, Chandrabindoo, Nachiketa, Anjan Dutta et al. on youtube. All bengali bands or singers, so in case one is not aware of them fret not!! :)<br /><br />At this point I realised that, often without knowing we tend to associate certain music/songs/albums with different things, like schooldays, college, graduation, teenage, growing up, the first love, the first break up. E.g.<br /><br />1. Where We Belong (Boyzone) - This album came out in 1998 and somehow quite a few of these songs remain with my till date. I went crazy over them. That was also the year I had my first serious teenage crush. And not to mention the stress level of impending O-levels in that academic year. Boyzone, helped me relax with songs like No Matter What, All That I Need, You Flew Away, Picture of You. And it was while singing along to them I realised, I could sing!! :D<br /><br />2. Songs from the Guru Dutt classics - At a time when I was delving into idealism, forging my creative senses from colours to words, the songs (lyrics and music) helped develop the choice acutely, be it "Waqt ne kiya" or "Ya dil ki suno duniyan walo", "jaane woh kaise log the" or "yeh duniya". Classics all the way and still love listening to them when am thoughtful.<br /><br />3. Euphoria and Nachiketa - while they had been around for years, with "Dhoom pichuk" being literally an anthem for youngsters from that time. They played a key part towards the end of school years when I was really digging into music. Did I follow the calling? Unfortunately not!!<br /><br />4. Nothing Else Matters (Metallica) - I have never really been able to be a fan of an artist/band. For me its always been the song. Nothing else matters, a song which is perhaps the most soothing number that one would hear. And if you can strum the guitar, the opening sequence relaxes your mind like nothing else. and has till date remained a key destresser for me. I play the song, whenever I feel am getting bogged down. It also serves as a key to the memories I have of Sikkim. 4 years in that beautiful land, we studied, fought, played, basically grew up from boys to men, the wisps of cloud that rest on the river the early in the morning, the rain kissed trees glistening on a cloudy day. This song evokes strong, peaceful n cherished memories.<br /><br />5. Bhoomi, Parashpathar, Fossils, Chandrabindoo - All bengali bands. I discovered them when I got around to college in Sikkim. As I got educated in that phenomena, I picked up their songs. And when like minded guys get together what you have night long soirees on rooftops a few guys, a couple of guitars and raw vocal power. It helped that everyone was talented enough to make it a wonderful show. Night after night, year after year.... Those were the best days of my life :)<br /><br />6. Fear of the Dark (Iron Maiden), November Rain (GnR) - Somehow, it was with these songs that I got hooked to guitar. Another thing I picked up during engineering!! I love affair with guitar still continues, though I haven't managed to go past the basic. Self learning may not be the best way :P<br /><br />Since then I have heard many genres, appreciated all types of music. Be it Ustad Amjad Ali Khan or Yanni, Rabindrasangeet or Abba, Beatles or Linkin Park, Karunesh or A.R.Rehman, R.D.Burman or current Bollywood music.... music has been a key a element while I grew up. It would always be. As long as I can sing and play a guitar, I know am not living without music. :)<br /><br />What's your dig or influence??<br /></div>Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06394200137631383145noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37282400.post-20864705221249331092009-05-14T22:14:00.003+01:002009-05-14T22:24:11.288+01:00A choice!! What would you do??<div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;">Now blame Phoenix for this, but her post on <a href="http://waves-of-light.blogspot.com/2009/05/to-be-woman.html">women in the Indian society</a> made me dig out a favourite question of mine, to which I'm to arrive at a good solution. It's based on a practical situation which can/ might/will arise in quite a few lives around us in the future. Some might have already witnessed it. Anyhow without much ado, I present the situation.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Situation:</span><br />Suppose me n my lady, both working, are having quite a decent run at work. Having what folks would call a good life. may be she is doing better than I am. now, I get this career opportunity which is going take me places, a real jump... but it requires me to relocate.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Question:</span><br />Should my lady to tag along with me?? It would mean to have to quit her job (not desirable!!)... or stay apart?? (not desirable n for how long would that work?)...<br />The only way out it seems is not to make the move (can i really pass on dat jump??).<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">My Thoughts:</span><br />The more I about the more I get convinced that I have to choose between personal life or career at that point... may be, I can only cross the bridge when I come to it.. at this point everything said or suggested would be mere speculation, or....<br /><br /><br />What is your take on this situation??<br />Think of the situation from both perspectives (man n woman), and by turning the tables.<br /><br />Happy Thinking!! Cheerio...<br /></div>Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06394200137631383145noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37282400.post-54793598800030139792009-05-13T13:11:00.000+01:002010-04-27T15:16:31.814+01:00Post exams and Portsmouth<div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;">So, exams have been over. The week following that was spent working on a business simulation exercise. With that out of the way, we now concentrate on the research proposal for the dissertation coming up in July.<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><br />The exams were taxing, with 5 in 5 days. Yep, you got that right. It was 5 in 5. Not a shred of mercy for the business school students. We lived, we sailed through... and finally crashed after the exams were over. But the exhilaration triumphed over fatigue and we spent the afternoon lazing about at Hyde Park, soaking in the sun over a few beers and then trooping in for an after-exams party at a classmate's place at Fulham Broadway (nice house he had there!!) And so the much awaited weekend started. And honestly, most were interested in lazing about than anything else. However, me and a couple of my classmates decided to spend the day out on Sunday, walking about in Soho. (read about it here: <a href="http://confusedsam.blogspot.com/2009/05/soho-walk-on-sunday.html">Soho Walk on a Sunday</a>)<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_VYtKVo7JB85_7-UUohP6es3EkCfd42m9VspQeyfcdLpDEL5bVtAtuqvz_Hhd88JXB0Qfdod6k0SZTgjULGlf3SeNbnClvAQOdDpGoufPsEhzsHtgof0qY2LlO-4yydsUlqrjeQ/s1600-h/DSC01655.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_VYtKVo7JB85_7-UUohP6es3EkCfd42m9VspQeyfcdLpDEL5bVtAtuqvz_Hhd88JXB0Qfdod6k0SZTgjULGlf3SeNbnClvAQOdDpGoufPsEhzsHtgof0qY2LlO-4yydsUlqrjeQ/s320/DSC01655.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335310351143613506" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Hyde park on Sunny Afternoon (May '09)<br /></span></div><br />The business simulation exercise though was mind boggling. Having had to run a business on a software simulation, each team (formed at the beginning of the year) had to manage it to ensure profits, good share price, nice dividends, valuable market share, sustainability and other aspects as one is supposed to encounter in the real life scenario. A steep learning curve it was, with the advantage being, the mistakes would cause losses but they would only be numbers on the screen. Definitely a better way to try out the fundamentals we have been picking up over the year, without any serious repurcussion which was, as a professor pointed out, an advantage managers of yesteryears never had. :)<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">*****<br /></div><br />Going ahead the scheme of things as laid out before, I would be sharing a few pictures from <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Portsmouth">Portsmouth</a>, which I visited in February. A port city and a major naval base of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HMNB_Portsmouth">Royal Navy and Marine Commandos</a>, Portsmouth has been in the thick of actions since the medieval ages. It's most famous creation being the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mary_rose">Mary Rose</a> (built during the reign of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_VIII_of_England">Henry VIII</a>), which had infamously sunk a few km off the shore in 1545. Speculations are rife over why she sunk till today. The last of its remains were recovered from Davy Jones' Locker in 1982, and is the oldest surviving remain of any ship. It can be viewed at the Portsmouth Historical Dockyards. The Dockyards also houses the famous <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HMS_Victory">HMS Victory</a> (oldest ship in commission), which <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lord_Nelson">Lord Nelson</a> commanded during the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Trafalgar">Battle of Trafalgar</a>, and it was on this very ship that he breathed his last on 21st October, 1805.<br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTj5Jt9QNhnfs_MMIYzq7QPFd8yr0gZa-ODOwEiF6gcebaHsQeqRM7JJFPd7tfHbP6bePY59rd9B8ErTannAvcMlWtLjyW6a5gdnIPNBZiHtUsZXOnTrHA9tdR4aL3VBuJauzN3A/s1600-h/DSC01161.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTj5Jt9QNhnfs_MMIYzq7QPFd8yr0gZa-ODOwEiF6gcebaHsQeqRM7JJFPd7tfHbP6bePY59rd9B8ErTannAvcMlWtLjyW6a5gdnIPNBZiHtUsZXOnTrHA9tdR4aL3VBuJauzN3A/s320/DSC01161.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335310346350169746" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">T</span><span style="font-size:85%;">he remains of Mary Rose, washed in molten wax</span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2-YP9Gp5G9Uh93uqfp7pfMAUG0VYqkCE-4h-MGslQj2lO6qJAkeCfODzg2oEN3T9nLg8jAdzDOJBuTzGugvnyE1LBQT16257HsIFfru21pZNBJysXQyTDuNI8i5vrkw_hlU2NUA/s1600-h/DSC01140.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2-YP9Gp5G9Uh93uqfp7pfMAUG0VYqkCE-4h-MGslQj2lO6qJAkeCfODzg2oEN3T9nLg8jAdzDOJBuTzGugvnyE1LBQT16257HsIFfru21pZNBJysXQyTDuNI8i5vrkw_hlU2NUA/s320/DSC01140.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335310348856671954" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">The HMS Victory, portside</span><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLomXjN2PgjDO10p4mJD2K9fVN0urhjfi9HTvDaXTml9w8lf99SAs1qsGq55LEEDRbnop1I1K4yFD5aWzoA8HzbnvastPj5RB7Uk17zAttss7bxDIT2Vn-Yl3Y3PTG7WOJToSm6w/s1600-h/DSC01170.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLomXjN2PgjDO10p4mJD2K9fVN0urhjfi9HTvDaXTml9w8lf99SAs1qsGq55LEEDRbnop1I1K4yFD5aWzoA8HzbnvastPj5RB7Uk17zAttss7bxDIT2Vn-Yl3Y3PTG7WOJToSm6w/s320/DSC01170.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335310350349007074" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">The Spinnaker tower</span></div>Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06394200137631383145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37282400.post-82215075652196165312009-05-11T23:45:00.001+01:002009-05-12T02:09:48.674+01:00Joys of Childhood<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Before I begin my ramblings (I know I use that word often!!), I must thank SK for forwarding me the link of the videos I posted in the previous post about Wanda Sykes. By the way, SK (also my classmate) has been a source of constant support during the exam stressful exam day, right until the last exam. I must thank her for those messages on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Facebook</span>, which though were more about course material, but a communication I used to look forward to amongst other things I used to do then (apart from studies/revision). Thanks a lot mate... You've been great!! :)</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><br />Now with that note of thanks, I proceed to the current thought of the day: "Childhood is best phase of our lives". Honestly, nothing to worry about except <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">maybe class</span> routines, but that to after we grow up a little. The BIG thing is, no bills to take care of, no worries about about what to cook, no worries about the taxes, building up a bank balance, mortgages... nothing!! All you do, is go about your business of a student and a complete <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">freako</span> otherwise. I actually started thinking on these lines after going through the following pictures:</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfXS9cYHW3YOis7lwfREyg9sfRB1LTU0bDrbnbjalHwp242Aq5ettCl5BZvh5VWrdrIRe_91bmJxjcalCfJP87_MlKo8U9Nr6wQ2ejmkpelznXimcTqs1qJxvNzwj7V3DT7G0_Tg/s1600-h/DSC01737.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfXS9cYHW3YOis7lwfREyg9sfRB1LTU0bDrbnbjalHwp242Aq5ettCl5BZvh5VWrdrIRe_91bmJxjcalCfJP87_MlKo8U9Nr6wQ2ejmkpelznXimcTqs1qJxvNzwj7V3DT7G0_Tg/s320/DSC01737.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334737773147538962" border="0" /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5cdDZq9_yUixdhBOyg16os9SrrjW_Q2Xw9eadsI_OcRZGnoq1e_XKq0GX6Dx-tOyI0dJTCipi6xrdVi19d1knofZ5ZSqwWvqI8Txj-4Vz1H9KpmfyLuy5ZlHoXuhT4GU3TrHYMg/s1600-h/DSC01739.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5cdDZq9_yUixdhBOyg16os9SrrjW_Q2Xw9eadsI_OcRZGnoq1e_XKq0GX6Dx-tOyI0dJTCipi6xrdVi19d1knofZ5ZSqwWvqI8Txj-4Vz1H9KpmfyLuy5ZlHoXuhT4GU3TrHYMg/s320/DSC01739.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334737773777340162" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">In one the child is enjoying being hoisted up into the air, comfortable in the knowledge that his dad is going to catch him on the way down and not let let him crash to the ground. The other is just about two brothers innocently playing about with their balloons as their folks went about their own business at the event. the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">bottomline</span> is, they are enjoying without a care in the world. It's as if the more you know the less is enjoy life. So, did knowledge finally serve it's purpose?? Catch 22 anyone??</span> </div>Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06394200137631383145noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37282400.post-60900532209460960202009-05-10T16:02:00.005+01:002009-05-10T16:27:05.788+01:00Let's have a tax ball...<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Now I wasn't the one suggesting that. However, given <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wanda_Sykes">Wanda Sykes </a>suggestion and reasoning, am more inclined to agree to that. People evade taxes, they crib about it. Now, am not saying that some don't have a right to do that, they really do. The poor chap is earning peanuts and the government goes off and taxes them high. Not fair. However, the government needs the money to work things out, yeah? So, they tax the ones who can pay high. E.g., in UK , you get <a href="http://www.direct.gov.uk/en/Nl1/Newsroom/Budget2009/DG_172915">taxed 50%</a> for an income above </span>£<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">1</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">50000 per annum. People crib a lot. Damn right, they should. I would!! I work hard all year, struggled and made it to the top over so many years, and then they tax me 50% of what I earn. I would have been better off with a salary of </span>£<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">140000, would be paying 40% then!! Now, let me give you a sweet catch. The bonuses are tax free, or so I heard.<br /><br />So, the rich folks crib about tax, yet don't mind shelling out the big money at charity balls and dinners, where they dress up and have a seven course meal. So, what Wanda Sykes suggests is, get them around to a tax ball too, because it seems they don't mind shelling out when well dressed. Talk about killing 'em softly!!<br /><br />Anyhow, Wanda went on to land quite a few more such thumps, so watch them on the videos. (scroll down a bit, n you'll find them waiting to be clicked :)) Oh, and don't run away after watching it. Stay around and tell me about what you thought of it...<br /></span><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/lJR-WzMjCGA&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/lJR-WzMjCGA&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object><br /><br />Part 1 : Wanda Sykes at the White House Correspondent's Association Dinner<br /><br /><object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EdkEHIjsXQI&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EdkEHIjsXQI&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object><br /><br />Part 2 : Wanda Sykes at the White House Correspondent's Association Dinner<br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />PS: I simply had to share this. :D<br /></div></div>Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06394200137631383145noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37282400.post-15816346358996860492009-05-09T14:00:00.012+01:002010-04-27T15:10:06.477+01:00Soho Walk on a Sunday<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoYn59JV9WfCVZDWg5scRGEjRYdpTYYWrn9_GsOeTak8QSG_wYTySHWIk7rfczphE93SzWAG4oT2nbW-IgazIQUfOKa2I84YYX4fPDR-yYSrJD0GGSFWgcAdRUtD9835c4X-h2Jw/s1600-h/DSC01698.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoYn59JV9WfCVZDWg5scRGEjRYdpTYYWrn9_GsOeTak8QSG_wYTySHWIk7rfczphE93SzWAG4oT2nbW-IgazIQUfOKa2I84YYX4fPDR-yYSrJD0GGSFWgcAdRUtD9835c4X-h2Jw/s320/DSC01698.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333807428446391298" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Things haven't changed much over the past week except perhaps the fact that exams are finally over and I sort of managed to catch up on my sleep. The lack of it thankfully did not harm me during the exams. The weekend exp</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">e</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">ctedly was spent lazing about doing nothing at all, till on Saturday night while on a lazing spree in my room, me n a couple of folks decided to leg about in central London the next day. Having nothing better to do, and still feeling out of sorts with the alleys and lanes of London, we felt this was the best way to spend an afternoon.</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="font-family: trebuchet ms; text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="font-family: trebuchet ms; text-align: justify;">Sunday afternoon we started our walk from Piccadilly Circus, went past the Devonshire Arms pub to enter the <a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?hl=en&rls=com.microsoft:en-US&q=soho+london+map&um=1&ie=UTF-8&split=0&ei=1RgESqyuA9q7jAfRjtDfBA&sa=X&oi=geocode_result&ct=image&resnum=1">interiors of Soho</a> (I would suggest clicking on this link for a map of the area, else you are sure to get lost). The place comes alive at night, but during daytime it was as quiet as a quaint little village. Walking though its narrow lanes and alleys, we emerged onto Oxford Street. Busy as ever with shoppers and people just walking by, the street as always was a marvel to look at. Proceeding along Oxford Street, away from Oxford Circus, we again took a turn into Great Chapel street to get ourselves back into Soho. Walking down, we were amazed by the stark difference in the one felt in less than 100m. From the end of the street, we could see Oxford Street going about its business and Wardour street on the other side pretty much doing the same. But at that very corner, everything quiet. Silence managed to <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjciaxu0NZrRNtQc3AZlmU9wAMWD1FLG9mdUJaS1cfuqVIZDCOjfhVLg6ULXpdzGOxiEDvtf69VQP1jusR1TYPdztczRmpGg2isoWzV2Tsoi5R_1GFQI0NQ7nrn6fGHWwEk2kKxMw/s1600-h/DSC01709.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 245px; height: 152px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjciaxu0NZrRNtQc3AZlmU9wAMWD1FLG9mdUJaS1cfuqVIZDCOjfhVLg6ULXpdzGOxiEDvtf69VQP1jusR1TYPdztczRmpGg2isoWzV2Tsoi5R_1GFQI0NQ7nrn6fGHWwEk2kKxMw/s320/DSC01709.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333807433489503282" border="0" /></a>reign supreme despite being surrounded by chaos. Walking along Wardour street, we turned into Mearde Street before heading out towards Quo Vadis on Dean Street. At this point I must mention that the building that houses Quo Vadis today, was at one point in time the residence of Karl Marx, or rather on of its upper floors (the floor be marked with a circular blue metal plaque). Onwards straight , a turn later we were at Soho Square, which is essectially the green lung of this area. A nice quaint spot, I felt like pausing there for more than a few minutes. In fact, wished had a picnic basket!! But, we carried on, straight along Greek Street, (Casanova at one point of time was a resident of this very street). Walking straight ahead, we turned right onto Old Compton street corner where you would find Maison Bertaux. Supposed to be makers to delicious patisserie, its place people have been known to hang around for hours having nothing but tea. A little ahead was Chinatown and soon enough we were at Leicester square.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgscGoPoqTiOrUYglGzaS6xsjPMT5Rli8KqvPe7uAyVJOnmM5t5oXWQPFCFye2PKZ7FmOFgAXBBm6AaB4xmTcZESoaQ7Nc752R1M76k1jSksBBYPRO2u5zKdD8Piu-gL23jeYbo3w/s1600-h/DSC01712.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgscGoPoqTiOrUYglGzaS6xsjPMT5Rli8KqvPe7uAyVJOnmM5t5oXWQPFCFye2PKZ7FmOFgAXBBm6AaB4xmTcZESoaQ7Nc752R1M76k1jSksBBYPRO2u5zKdD8Piu-gL23jeYbo3w/s320/DSC01712.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333831711495072642" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbjmWKwcU1RBFft_CKGXsmVakx9bXHp8CLMAKDUancI6-yNmCboepEKRVTfQHhxkPsNYIflF8YPlYCrnOTI46P3aYE83kgJZXKwliLEpZ928todU2zPcHsgxreRbUQANuu1J36Jg/s1600-h/DSC01729.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbjmWKwcU1RBFft_CKGXsmVakx9bXHp8CLMAKDUancI6-yNmCboepEKRVTfQHhxkPsNYIflF8YPlYCrnOTI46P3aYE83kgJZXKwliLEpZ928todU2zPcHsgxreRbUQANuu1J36Jg/s320/DSC01729.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333831710311514082" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2PcDI1V-hnpExlPrO9YueJTsNzXy7IDvwwuKSIa5dLp6CT2faJJE3f97gmz-41HQRGallpD2_3tFHUvwgfITbdO826SAJ6tup8rllx49xuzmyFeQb7gn3xOG81iLEnFVAxy57nQ/s1600-h/DSC01723.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2PcDI1V-hnpExlPrO9YueJTsNzXy7IDvwwuKSIa5dLp6CT2faJJE3f97gmz-41HQRGallpD2_3tFHUvwgfITbdO826SAJ6tup8rllx49xuzmyFeQb7gn3xOG81iLEnFVAxy57nQ/s320/DSC01723.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333831708663365010" border="0" /></a></div><br /><br />Not having had enough, we headed off to Fitzroy park, which was a 7 min bus ride away. The intention was to have lunch at the Indian YMCA, which much to our disbelief was closed for lunch. Disappointed we spent a few minutes at Fitzroy park, which was honestly beautiful, with the sun beating down on our heads and yet it felt good. Over here I found my friends being caught up with a pigeon and frankly, I had no clue what they were trying to converse but from the looks of it I gathered the lil birdie was not too interested.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr8EcCr_YXIkVcJexEf0VHPFUp-ID46ygUAJLp8IL6B9NMhPnKlmGG_Ajc07tLUcP-qGvwyFaFmappX-83ZBAQq46UvBmxobygFze3HqlWZqef65CW8NlanRy6bmmGr1wbGotKRw/s1600-h/DSC01732.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr8EcCr_YXIkVcJexEf0VHPFUp-ID46ygUAJLp8IL6B9NMhPnKlmGG_Ajc07tLUcP-qGvwyFaFmappX-83ZBAQq46UvBmxobygFze3HqlWZqef65CW8NlanRy6bmmGr1wbGotKRw/s320/DSC01732.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333831714167907090" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br />Grabbing a bite on the way, we headed towards Trafalgar Square, going past Leicester square, only to laze about in the sun there as the crowd thronged about for the Baisakhi mela organised there by the City Council. After much lazing about we went off towards Covent Garden, a 7 minute walk away. Covent Garden as usual did not disappoint on a Sunday evening. This is the place I would suggest everyone to head for if you want a drink and some live music going on around you. We saw some street performers, live musicians and listened to a strings group (violins n cello) to our hearts content before heading back. It was well past 7. 7 well spent hours I would say!!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUbNOt2w6RPckUiNd3Lv11wMhuP_Mz4FMvbY3ldybNumKnvAvTxFWy71cjMwhm9ccX9wVpi2V94pSnpgcByX-C3SFplj7pkARu7ufLLGIL0gHQ_HB-62fA1cXAZAW2Tnh262pPsw/s1600-h/DSC01734.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 246px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUbNOt2w6RPckUiNd3Lv11wMhuP_Mz4FMvbY3ldybNumKnvAvTxFWy71cjMwhm9ccX9wVpi2V94pSnpgcByX-C3SFplj7pkARu7ufLLGIL0gHQ_HB-62fA1cXAZAW2Tnh262pPsw/s320/DSC01734.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333831704704426834" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirBa05WPTHPk5oagm6efyJ4FJTt0TOCzduj_5t_m3U2pmp6qgXi8xTwaAREvZhdO2WLK27Z1265qe1KXkHPT97H7KIT4XaYrnvcz6hyqCDj3EW8iZ4vw_EtOGUjJZ3TKZif_tKow/s1600-h/DSC01740.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 246px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirBa05WPTHPk5oagm6efyJ4FJTt0TOCzduj_5t_m3U2pmp6qgXi8xTwaAREvZhdO2WLK27Z1265qe1KXkHPT97H7KIT4XaYrnvcz6hyqCDj3EW8iZ4vw_EtOGUjJZ3TKZif_tKow/s320/DSC01740.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333812248690334914" border="0" /></a></div></div><br /><br />Monday was a bank holiday, so it went by in preparation for the forthcoming week, which promised to be rigourous, though frankly no preparation could have been enough. Tuesday to Friday, was a mad rush, with a business simulation exrecise at school, which required each student group to crunch numbers, predict market behaviour, generate capital, position products, launch new products, retire sick products - the whole 9 yards that one has to travel to make a business venture successful n sustainable over time. It was draining enough, but the week ended on a high note, with a few drunk mates, thai food, seemingly lost directions (that happens if you be led by an inebriated Thai, support a burly drunk Russian and a couple of other ladies in high spirits). A good laugh, good food and a good sleep - after a tiring n challenging week, that's all you need!! :)<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="font-family: trebuchet ms; text-align: justify;"> </div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE-Co7ZF1zqnSm4xoQNVwEuxBuB16KIfN9RxDfiAOxInE3NCAAr3Vck5VpaxVlbDuNyUywWJpYH_CBvLzVNllFFbAq94nYYtsrv-MycAgMCXd_LnVtXdqJJtjxaJKiWY61DTSYGA/s1600-h/DSC01763.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE-Co7ZF1zqnSm4xoQNVwEuxBuB16KIfN9RxDfiAOxInE3NCAAr3Vck5VpaxVlbDuNyUywWJpYH_CBvLzVNllFFbAq94nYYtsrv-MycAgMCXd_LnVtXdqJJtjxaJKiWY61DTSYGA/s320/DSC01763.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333812422010375138" border="0" /></a></div>Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06394200137631383145noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37282400.post-85115684806788073942009-04-28T18:58:00.005+01:002009-04-28T19:36:20.604+01:00Stand by me...<div style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;">Exams are on! Which means sleepless nights, sleepy afternoons, race against time to finish revision, aching hands (<span style="font-style: italic;">no longer used to writing :P</span>). Anyway, not around to update anyone on the exams scenario. What has taken the cake amidst the bleak circumstances, is the London tube condition. The monumental plans for the London Underground which has every weekend caused a shortage of trains, and suspension of services on certain lines. Planned engineering works they say. Anyhow, with summer approaching the prospect of travelling by tube seems quite a daunting task. It can get really, really hot n humid down there. Transport for London is working to alleviate the situation but it seems to be quite a few years before they can show any results for their efforts.<br /><br />With regards to the tube, what happened today morning left me with the short end of the stick. I generally takes about 40-45 minutes from my apartments to the uni, including a 20 min ride on the tube. Now, the sodding station I have access to is catered only by the Heathrow bound Piccadilly service. The other nearest ones are a good 20 minutes away by bus, which again is at a frequency of roughly 10 minutes. Anyhow, my destination, South Kensington is well served by three different lines, so, if one goes down there are ways to reach there.<br /><br />As I was saying, things went terribly wrong this morning. First, I overslept and nearly caused a major catastrophe there, which thankfully was averted. Second, on arriving at the tube station at South Ealing, I came to know that <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-weight: bold;">Piccadilly</span> (<span style="font-size:100%;">the blue line</span>) was partly suspended between Hammersmith and Hyde Park Corner <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">due to delay in engineering works</span>, while the rest of the line experienced severe delays. (I<span style="font-style: italic;"> strongly recommend consulting the tube map snippet below to understand the situation, source: </span><a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.tfl.gov.uk/">Transport for London</a>) South Kensington being right in the middle of the no-go zone now, it left me in a terrible soup. Having not foreseen such a terrible turn of events, I had left about 90 minutes prior to the start of exams. with an hour to go, situation was pretty bleak. Having weighed all options, me and a few of my classmates came to the conclusion that we were going to be late. The only way we could make it in time was to hail a cab, which mysteriously had dried up. Legging the 11 mile distance was certainly not an option. Forced to submit to the abysmal conditions, we got on the tube at South Ealing changed at Acton Town onto the <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">District Line</span> (the green one) which has a notorious reputation for being slow. Finally we made it!! 10 minutes late to the examination hall. The first 10 being reading time, we didn't really miss out on the writing time, but a harrowing experience nevertheless. Thankfully, the question paper left us smiling. :)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieBWnWoBsOmHOqRaW8Ci80_RXCLxoHJwu4wJzSXD0DhzRGr7zk3T3OG57-DAHTqC2n8AlxV0jLabdgjnWdj7Ts7MG0jC5RCtGYeGIA_YVsnFF5qop-jO5v24pKU4rhBRpDd1eaAw/s1600-h/The+sodden+route.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 463px; height: 147px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieBWnWoBsOmHOqRaW8Ci80_RXCLxoHJwu4wJzSXD0DhzRGr7zk3T3OG57-DAHTqC2n8AlxV0jLabdgjnWdj7Ts7MG0jC5RCtGYeGIA_YVsnFF5qop-jO5v24pKU4rhBRpDd1eaAw/s400/The+sodden+route.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329811192424806818" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Lessons learnt: Shit happens!! Prepare for it if you can.<br /><br />Meanwhile, a classmate of mine shared this song with me and honestly speaking I do love it.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><object width="400" height="267"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /><param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=2539741&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=1&color=00adef&fullscreen=1" /><embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=2539741&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=1&color=00adef&fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="400" height="267"></embed></object><br /></div>Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06394200137631383145noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37282400.post-25647212766525407252009-04-25T22:46:00.000+01:002010-04-27T15:16:31.815+01:00It's almost showtime!!<div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;">Yep, that's right. less than 36 hours to go before I write my last set of theory papers. I'm hoping that this would be the last set of my life. Lets hope so. Wish me luck!!<br /><br />Going ahead with the scheme of things as laid out in the last post, I present to you a few clicks of the London snowfall, the worst of its kind in nearly 2 decades. It brought things in London to a standstill for more than 24 hours. Clearly, London was not prepared for this. Read the following article on BBC: <a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/london/7864315.stm">Heavy snow disrupts London travel</a>.<br /></div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFksgoDfqHqPoQVuXHGtiFjuur0jSjeV9CVa_ZgArGitaU4GKckYY0vN177742qzSUXLsp0YecHG3FPrnLSJ_zQCLgQIVTNR-KllSAhy0MbwetgRxwHVhmGBhzdcA0deNQ_2dppg/s1600-h/DSC00803.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFksgoDfqHqPoQVuXHGtiFjuur0jSjeV9CVa_ZgArGitaU4GKckYY0vN177742qzSUXLsp0YecHG3FPrnLSJ_zQCLgQIVTNR-KllSAhy0MbwetgRxwHVhmGBhzdcA0deNQ_2dppg/s320/DSC00803.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328752578027106482" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCXbt_3UZ56UNJe5Rjknjh5IEaYwCB8w-8o1L-UWtYR04QZgyRcudxHrgoWxDKRsfNNbYeglzcxA0W14UfvxIV4fn2HYZ-LvIBpeJ0BLac9SiHCiBT4DoZGJ92VVSBjTlxxR2DJQ/s1600-h/DSC00806.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCXbt_3UZ56UNJe5Rjknjh5IEaYwCB8w-8o1L-UWtYR04QZgyRcudxHrgoWxDKRsfNNbYeglzcxA0W14UfvxIV4fn2HYZ-LvIBpeJ0BLac9SiHCiBT4DoZGJ92VVSBjTlxxR2DJQ/s320/DSC00806.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328752580800559250" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijnJLLuQEQOxLosKU0xZWgG45KN8aiSj_mzzMkdbtGsI49KDvroYUvQWR3GTQMnYuFqAnUv7L2v6PgT2Bndbxp9U9B80y4qAMrVu8hftHaixVEFyGPpUf0RgSstlYUUx3c61AO3A/s1600-h/DSC00808.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijnJLLuQEQOxLosKU0xZWgG45KN8aiSj_mzzMkdbtGsI49KDvroYUvQWR3GTQMnYuFqAnUv7L2v6PgT2Bndbxp9U9B80y4qAMrVu8hftHaixVEFyGPpUf0RgSstlYUUx3c61AO3A/s320/DSC00808.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328752586821641938" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih1fuBj9r4jO2lMZ9rf94szij0c3gCbULtXho9f5TaFPoUe0-GyZUQcKbNGXZO_vkWW4qWK_lpnjXZT4v74HdNB1UbPeE3J9G-ahPolQEGnAtXXrJXGjEv0f9cdU_xUcjySpFJ0Q/s1600-h/DSC00809.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih1fuBj9r4jO2lMZ9rf94szij0c3gCbULtXho9f5TaFPoUe0-GyZUQcKbNGXZO_vkWW4qWK_lpnjXZT4v74HdNB1UbPeE3J9G-ahPolQEGnAtXXrJXGjEv0f9cdU_xUcjySpFJ0Q/s320/DSC00809.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328752585104088690" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim2TE8qoAHo7uiAGQeAFA_rT734o_rUaznPAVcazclR6AMzQQRb6UDU7XLBJd5HKOZtExU4XD6Rl7LuOJFUWA4crwhm3EbfaqfS8L948CNMhIfnXdzExikflwgF9-U1rM5DO0YJQ/s1600-h/DSC00810.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim2TE8qoAHo7uiAGQeAFA_rT734o_rUaznPAVcazclR6AMzQQRb6UDU7XLBJd5HKOZtExU4XD6Rl7LuOJFUWA4crwhm3EbfaqfS8L948CNMhIfnXdzExikflwgF9-U1rM5DO0YJQ/s320/DSC00810.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328752584715481298" border="0" /></a>Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06394200137631383145noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37282400.post-70128964191060040292009-04-25T02:24:00.010+01:002009-04-25T03:07:18.337+01:00Observations<div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;">Firstly, a disclaimer! I was not drunk when I wrote that last post. I was merely under a trance having listened to the soundtrack of Sin City for more than 3 days. Oh, and you could say I was also distraught with certain state of affairs with regards to a particular module, so much so I was in a murderous mood. So there, having settled affairs and washing my hands off any drunken behaviour, I shall now proceed to bore you out of your brains. Keep the knife handy in case you want to stab yourself, or the glass of water else quit reading (the eyes do need a rest!!).<br /><br />Now, since you are reading this line, I'm assuming you have followed either of the first two options I mentioned or have devised an ingenious way of yours to stave off the onslaught on your senses. Frankly, I do not intend to write about exam stress. Let's face it, we all know the works. It varies a trifle bit here n there, but not much. In the end it still is a mental trauma, a PIA and a system of evaluation which despite its glaring fallacies is still around.<br /><br />My first observation this week is, pay attention when you are cooking. Especially if you are dealing with spices. On one such occasion later last week, I happened to cook some chicken. Unmindful of the proceedings, I believe I went a bit lenient on the spices. The fumes told me the story pretty quick. However, not to be deterred I proceeded with the entire show and served a very delicious looking preparation.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHH2QktV1ekH_WXx5RfdjnX-e-fGZvaFbtG0d46vbtyYscaX77mD_3RzoyBFAChaBvEnhgIp12lvOP2MBL9EAeTvMBnyKNxZl_AiKpLNj17AdLctoUZPCCBp6wMdh0hhJCxihYEg/s1600-h/DSC01536.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHH2QktV1ekH_WXx5RfdjnX-e-fGZvaFbtG0d46vbtyYscaX77mD_3RzoyBFAChaBvEnhgIp12lvOP2MBL9EAeTvMBnyKNxZl_AiKpLNj17AdLctoUZPCCBp6wMdh0hhJCxihYEg/s200/DSC01536.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328442010889217106" border="0" /></a>Observation no. 2: Appearance can be deceptive applies to food and not just women!! (more on the second half of the lesson later!!). The seemingly delicious and innocent looking chicken had the power of a few nukes hidden am sure. It was HOT!! Now, don't get me wrong here. I'm one of those , who generally like their food hot. Especially Indian food. I relished having it. With some veggies n steamed rice to go with it, it was a nice enough dinner (considering am a bachelor with limited culinary skills, you can make your guesses from the picture on the right!). What I had never prepared was for the aftermath!! Believe me when I say I ran through half a roll of the paper, before I was fine, though posterior was very much on fire. And this was within 2 hours of dinner. Haven't cooked chicken since. Am surviving on my boiled/fried vegetables, instant noodles, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">omelletes</span>, breads. Chickens can wait for the time being!!<br /><br />Observation no. 3: Time does fly!!! Oh yes, it does. Not with wings if that's what you are looking for, so stop imagining a clock flying across the sky with its wings spread wide open, neither is this Hogwarts. So, when we say time flies, the general essence is of what we have been told always. It seems only a few days ago that I returned from Glasgow, whereas it was been more than two weeks in reality. *** sighs ***<br /><br />Observation no. 4: I find the graveyard outside my window to be quite beautiful. Have been clicking a few either later in the evening or early morning.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvSguz3rekut6aCREN5itFYzzDS1WfX7eSia32nzyWgA-FFiSRyIueFNS2xSWSWsI2UY0L3xGbp795vab0zlADPSGy8bfUgpENZOSQ4FXqPQ4UYGe7i04-Xx4NLD1cE_7YAHV60g/s1600-h/DSC01604.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvSguz3rekut6aCREN5itFYzzDS1WfX7eSia32nzyWgA-FFiSRyIueFNS2xSWSWsI2UY0L3xGbp795vab0zlADPSGy8bfUgpENZOSQ4FXqPQ4UYGe7i04-Xx4NLD1cE_7YAHV60g/s320/DSC01604.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328442748122040898" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5_sFha9b0qw4kCQ5ebei_IkXjrDedwpaNaCMSedhZbi8GkkVcVaDcMUDmIDdB5yhZQuQmiZ5_r5SFLR-7AyCvFXeep49TQoXiT5zHv69LJe9qXT4JxiaY44BkSFj5PanZ3cK90Q/s1600-h/DSC01480.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 316px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5_sFha9b0qw4kCQ5ebei_IkXjrDedwpaNaCMSedhZbi8GkkVcVaDcMUDmIDdB5yhZQuQmiZ5_r5SFLR-7AyCvFXeep49TQoXiT5zHv69LJe9qXT4JxiaY44BkSFj5PanZ3cK90Q/s320/DSC01480.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328443244349600898" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgON0Tmhm37NZSwT7mvAOi9onjlB7MZGOBMqhty2Ny8NBM5gk8-5yVhyphenhyphenPeGPRJ7g2HLhqwJy8zAOiKkxVjZdSJeQ-kgd1hS8X1kdxAKuA1aJn9dm-urXZyVM7pmDdrgusmmmUFLXQ/s1600-h/DSC01599.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgON0Tmhm37NZSwT7mvAOi9onjlB7MZGOBMqhty2Ny8NBM5gk8-5yVhyphenhyphenPeGPRJ7g2HLhqwJy8zAOiKkxVjZdSJeQ-kgd1hS8X1kdxAKuA1aJn9dm-urXZyVM7pmDdrgusmmmUFLXQ/s320/DSC01599.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328443081012194194" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />Observation no. 5: I need to get back to business, 48 hours more to showtime.<br /><br />Cheerio :)<br /></div>Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06394200137631383145noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37282400.post-90030679401861968422009-04-23T00:30:00.002+01:002009-04-23T05:00:27.673+01:00Swish...<div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-style: italic;">sharp n cold, swish n thrust;<br />small n fast, swish n fire;<br />long n hard, swish n hit;<br />wet n warm, swish n blood;<br />sad n cold, swish n die!!</div>Samhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06394200137631383145noreply@blogger.com13