I was just thinking about, just think about it when you are introspecting/ talk to yourself, there are times when you talk to yourself and you use "I shouldnt have done, I kicked ass today" and other times you go "you are one idiot man, you should have just..., when will you learn...., you kicked ass today..." stuff like that, it would be good idea to see why that happens, am I not taking the responsibility for my actions by using "you". Will tell you when I do that next time.

Theres something about raving fans and trampling crowds, crowds sitting in sweltering sun, paparazzi that i couldnt ever relate to.
Being awe enough of a person that you havent seen in person more than a few times, if you are lucky that is. You havent even had a proper conversation with him/her and people covet them, pray for them. people like Sachin tendulkar, Amitabh, Anna kournikova, even smarter people like Scientists (actually couldnt think of any smart scientist) , the first thing which comes to my mind is.. if I need to respect them or if I need to deify them, I need to have at some point of time have a conversation with them and if I think they deserve the respect due to knowledge they possess then I repsct them and deification is next to impossible. I wont even will be in awe in teh presence of very famous people. I keep coming back to deification as I see people killing themselves for Osama Bin Laden or George Bush/ Some idiot sitting and making policies. How the hell can I go gun(g) ho and kill people and be ready to be killed when I am not even sure, why what long term objective they want to serve? or I do my own thought come up with the same conclusion, then I have satisfied my thought and my conscience.

Where are you getting to Balaji? Nowhere. Shud I get to somewhere? nope just blurt out everything you want and let it go.
Why do I keep questioning myself like this?

Coz its bloody good fun, and I can write on the blog that I question myself.
You are one weird bugger, even if I say so myself

I dont have any value for your life and I know that you do and the world does for you as a victim and me as a killer and a cause.

Terrorists in a temple, just jumped in and killed 25 people.
I was just going in an auto the other day, and for some reason, I was just staring out and catching a glipmse of peoples faces and for that second I imagined the life they might be living, their wishes, their relationships... all these people were like statistics... 25 people.

What would be going on in the mind of that person, just when he aims to hit the heart of that person? How can he pull thr trigger after looking at the shock on another persons face? How can he ever justify in the split second of pulling the trigger that this persons life is worth sacrificing for a cause? A cause about which his victim has no idea. Does he feel guilt? Or does he keep replaying the reason for his action in his mind, so as to keep him on his mission.

Once the first bullet is fired, theres no turning back. Self preservation takes over, I killed one and survived the immediate guilt of killing one person. I survived looking at the petirifed eyes of a man that I was about to kill, I survived the guilt of shooting a 9 year old kid in back trying to flee. I know I will be killed, I will end up as a statistic as well, maybe 1 among the 2. So did it make a difference? How does it matter now, my victim is dead and So am I.

Did you notice that you can can give any image, any situation a subtitle called "Life" with a shrug of your shoulders charading to be very deep.

Poem of this blogging Cycle:
I started to pull the door open.
A growl.
A rasping, ominous rumble.
A portent. A promise.
I, frightened, shut the wardrobe door
(and held it, just in case),
Back in the old house.
The walls were new blue,
And still smelled like paint.

A deep breath.
Another.
I gently pulled back the door,
I don't know why I wanted to see the wolf,
But I did.
Another low growl.
Feral. Frightening.

And for that moment
I stood on the brink of bravery
And of death.
I forced myself to open the door and look inside.

As I did so,
An old, scratchy pillow
Slowly toppled out onto the floor.
It was my wolf,
It's rough surface being scraped against the door
Was my growling.

It didn't matter.

I had won.

--- Oddlyaromatic

I Chose a picture, I have no reason why this one. Maybe this is how I feel today, maybe I just like to feel this way, maybe I want people to think that I feel this way, maybe its just a nice picture... the merit of the picture came at the end... hmm.

Some bugger called Adam Lashinsky, I just read a column of his on CNN called bottom line, have a look at it, How the hell can content like this be termed as "editorial"? He just quoted some 3 quarter results and made soem inane comment, either this guy writes like this all the time, or he was in a hurry to drop his daughter to school.

Atlast some sense is prevailing in some corner of the world. and Hope this lasts.
Too many bullshitting dialogs being passed around. These five big brother countries, each of them having some occupied territory are talking as tho they are some little puppies hiding from the big bad wolf. Bullshit.

The Kind of music I like to hear: A babe singing very softly with a lone guitar in the background. just to fill the gaps and to help me listen to what she is trying to tell herself.

i Blog
Blog: hey Long time no see, wassup?
me: Nothing much just chilling
Blog: havent come visiting me in a long time?
me: nah dint feel like
Blog: hmm
Blog: has somebody replaced me?
me: nah, just dint feel like blogging
Blog: Then how did you come here today?
me: hmm, I wanted to write something about why only activity based festivals are surviving in india
Blog: Shoot away
me: me heading home now, I will crystallise my thoughts and come back
Blog: hmm, why cant you crystallise them while blogging?
me: theres an audience that I have to mind
Blog: but isnt all blogging supposed to be for self.
me: nope.
.