Thursday, April 24, 2008

Stand And Fight... Or Walk Away

Some choose to stand and fight
Some choose to walk away
Carrying on isn't always bravado
Walking away isn't always giving up.

It is what you are fighting for that matters
It is where you are walking to that is important
To each his own, brave fight or nonchalant walk
In the end, they are both experiences you'll learn from.

Whether you choose to fight or walk away
You'll live to learn another day
Sometimes doing battle is actually walking away
Sometimes walking away is actually staying in the fight.

Some choose to stand and fight
Some choose to walk away
Carrying on isn't always bravado
Walking away isn't always giving up, I know.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

How old are you?

Are you being pushed down?

They say 60s are the new 50s.
People are working till they’re well over 65. What happened to I am just going to start getting my pension and enjoy a happy retired life at 58.

They say 50s are the new 40s.
People are still venturing out on their own at 55. What happened to just getting ready to welcome my grandson and enjoy the last 30 years of work I’ve put in.

They say 40s are the new 30s.
People are having their first kid at 45. What happened to I’m just getting used to my teenage daughters mood swings and learning to cope.

They say 30s are the new 20s.
People are going back to school at 35. What happened to phew, I’m just done with studying and waiting to soar in a corporate career.

Or

Are you being pulled up?

They say 10s are the new 20s
Children are fooling around with the latest gadgets at 15. What happened to I just got home from school mom, I wanna go out and play.

They say new borns are the new 10s? (WTF)
Toddlers are walking around abusing their chuddy buddies at 5. What happened to I just want to impress everyone with my nursery rhyme, 1 to 100 and A-Z repeating skills.

So I guess that means the 20s are the most screwed up with 30 years of your life being lived in what actually are just 10 years. So you’ll never know how old you are.

I am 26. Or am I?

Saturday, October 06, 2007

Programmed

10 Alarm rings
20 Hit snooze
30 Alarm rings again

40 Turn it off

50 Rub eyes
60 Sit up
70 Finish chores

80 Get in car

90 Drive
100 Curse traffic
110 Drive
120 Curse traffic

130 Park at office

140 Talk to clients
150 Talk to colleagues
160 Ta
lk to vendors
170 Lunch
180 Talk to clients
190 Talk to colleagues
200 Talk to vendors

210 Get in car
220 Goto 90
230 Finish cursing traffic

240 Park at home

250 Try to open door quietly
260 Serve self
270 Eat
280 Set alarm

290 Sleep
300 Goto 10

Programmed. For life.
Hail And
y and Larry Wachowski.






Where can I find my red pill. *sigh*

Tuesday, October 02, 2007

Sigh!

I liked my meat pink. Now I gotta eat red.
I liked my triangular walking track. Now its shaped like an apostrophe! (WTF!)
I liked following that cute little boy. Now I walk alone.
I liked having a name that at least sounded like one of my kind. Now, its not even like a name any more. (More like a question, beat that!)
I liked being Indian. Now I'm supposed to have become all international.
One fine day, pronunciamento - I am now someone else :(
I liked being there. Now, I wonder what the future holds.

Thanks for listening.

- Hutch, the Pug.
P.S. And they say, change is good.

Thursday, September 27, 2007

What if

Sreesanth had dropped that "2-million-dollar-with-one-crore-for-Yuvraj-5-10lakh-for-may-
others-from-state-governments-and-so-much-more" catch.

Misbah had hit that "i-can-do-an-Ashraful-i-can-be-cute-in-victory-all-shall-see-my-'bat'-of-
steel" shot right.

Rohit hadn't made those "1-six-and-2-fours-made-all-the-difference-in-the-end-i'll-take-the-
onus-of-the-final-surge" thirty runs.

Afridi had connected that "slow-between-the-fingers-it-so-should've-gone-for-six- this-was-the- one-time-that-i-skied-it" delivery from Irfan.


Yes, I am a "screamed-myself-hoarse-hugged-the-life-outta-my-colleagues-danced-
like-there-was-no-tomorrow-sat-at-the-same-place-i-was-sitting-when-
a-wicket-fell" kind of fan.
Yes, I do love this "no-time-to-think-wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am-lets-hit-it-out-
of-the-park" version of entertainment (note:NOT sport).
And yes, I know what matters is this historic "we-beat-them-although-not-so-hollow-and-now-every-Indian-is-
singing-our-praises-and-we-shall-now-get-a-lot-of-endorsements" victory.

But, what if.... *shudder*...

Saturday, May 12, 2007

I've been converted

From a Bill disciple to a Steve follower.

The months of cursing why a new key had to be used to do (or rather undo!) regular stuff ("apple" Z instead of the oh-so-familiar "Ctrl" Z) have given way to a time spent admiring the beauty of how this delicate looking, robust, piece of metal - and so much more - works. It is nothing short of phenomenal. Before I ramble on, here's what's got me back to my keyboard after almost a year long hiatus from writing (for reasons not just limited to the lack of owning this).






The (wait-for-it) MacBook Pro.

In the last one month since I've been hooked to this device I've discovered the joys of not seeing "Error #692 - you have a programme running which has affected some sectors in your hard disk and there's nothing we can do about it" and "some unforeseen error has caused Microsoft Word to shut down and any unsaved data may be lost". This apart, I know what it feels like when something doesn't hang on you (no pun intended there). And when something doesn't take forever to happen when you do a Ctrl S or a Ctrl Z (which are also functions of a lot of other things too - but while I'm stuck on blowing my Mac trumpet, lemme take this case-in-point too).

Its become the object of my affection in the last one month and it has made my life a lot easier too. And when the first laptop you have happens to be an Apple MacBook Pro, it takes a lot to keep you from bragging :-) I'm hoping that the comfort of sitting (more like sleeping right now with feet in the air on a stack of cushions and a head stand of a bed for a head rest) with a slick 1 inch wide, 2 and a half kilo machine makes me a lot more regular in my postings. A dining table chair to sit on and type at the end of a long days work does not make too much of an inviting proposition, you see.

For all you guys who wish you had this, find an organization that loves you :-) (like mine), or if you have the moolah to spend (which I couldn't afford right now),
then go get one yourselves.

A for Apple now has a new meaning :-) In my life at least.

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

Boyopause


Is 25 too early to get philosophical? Is 25 too late to still not know where you're headed?
Is 25 too early to consider marriage? Is 25 too late to still not have found your soulmate?
Is 25 too early to book your own house? Is 25 too late to still not have moved out of your parents home?
Is 25 too early to want to retire? Is 25 too late to still not have started planning your retirement?

Is 25 too early to start reading spiritualistic stuff? Is 25 too late to still not have gone beyond Asterix and Tintin?

Is 25 too early to be watching Baba Ramdev's yoga demos? Is 25 too late to still not have stopped watching Cartoon Network?

Is 25 too early to want to go to the Himalayas? Is 25 too late to still not have have seen even half of the city you live in?

Is 25 too early to think you are losing hair? Is 25 too late to still not have worried about hair loss?

Is 25 too early to reflect on what you've done in life? Is 25 to late to still not be bothered by life around you?
Is 25 too early to want to stop making new friends? Is 25 too late to still not have stopped exchanging numbers with almost
everyone you meet?
Is 25 too early to be meeting Owners and Directors of companies? Is 25 too late to still not have gone past the Assistant to
the Assistant to the Assistant of the Assistant Manager's office?
Is 25 too early to want to start off your own thing? Is 25 too late to still not have found your feet where you've been working for 3 years?

Is 25 too early to be writing something like this? Is 25 too late have not thought of all the stuff above?

Fortunately, or should I say unfortunately, its never too late or too early to be 25.
One fine day, you just are 24 no more.


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