Chip going bananas!

The chip could store. And how! No matter how much effort was put in, it simply wouldn't let anyone erase it's memory. The machine - inside which this chip is installed - has been repaired. The hinges are working fine. It moves like it did when it was new. The new tasks never seem to overwhelm it. It is only a matter of time before it reaches its full potential.

The chip however, is the cause of concern. Not because, it is wearing out. On the contrary, it is just getting stronger. Its data has simply become like an etching on stone. Now, unless this useless data is deleted there won't be room for new. Something needs to be done and done quickly. But replacing the chip would be too drastic a step. The machine will take longer than ever, to relearn whatever it has learnt till now.

Could an additional chip do the trick in the interim? It could store the newer insurmountable but useful amount of data the machine receives everyday. Could it accept so much that the older chip just gives in to the influx and makes space? The machine does stand a chance. New chip needed; badly.

Daaru hain nasha hain!

There is a strange sensation between the teeth. The tongue feels warm, and there is a constant urge to bite. The tongue is safely withdrawn inside the teeth and the molars grind against each other. Every now and then the jaws open a bit and allow the tongue to explore the insides of all 32. The lips have gone dry. The eyes shut for a while and open again. There is a feeling of warmth and there is thirst. You want to laugh and at the slightest joke you would be in splits. There's a burp or two and suddenly you feel hungry. You swallow, you yawn and you keep looking around. This is exactly how I felt after drinking a bottle of kingfisher strong. Cheers!

Get Shorty!

“Hey lets go to café coffee day”! I said. Pat came a reply, “No we are planning to go to CCD.” What the hell, what’s the difference, I thought. I am not the one to hold back my thoughts so I questioned using the same. “CCD is better than your café whatever!” my knowledgeable friend tells me.

Such is the impact of using short forms these days. People tend to become unaware of the actual meaning. “SMS generation!” as Anupam Kher says in Rang De Basanti about today’s youth. Indeed true! SMSes have had a very big role to play in today’s youth being so obsessed with abbreviations.

School was more puritanical in terms of English. We were strictly prohibited from using abbreviations while writing. May be that’s why I received a shock of my life in my 11th standard, when a professor told us to use “betn” as a short for “between”. And what followed hence is for all us to see.

Get the message across quickly seems to be the mantra nowadays. Why not? In this fast paced world nobody has the time. Communicating is more about making the listener understand what you have said rather than being too showy with words. Yes, an ostentatious display of vocabulary may impress a few but it could be at the cost of being misunderstood or being not understood at all.

Using simple words is the way to go and shortening them seems to be even cooler. This is especially true during instant messaging. But there also, people can inadvertently type something they would really not mean. Take for instance, a person typing the following line in the message window. “Hey, can u cum here, fast”? “No, I think I will take some time”. Perfectly innocent looking sentences, right? But, read between the lines and you can see a different picture. Just recently one of my friends asked me, “Am I that beautiful? I don’t really think I am.” I replied “BLITEOTB”. Go figure!

Improve!!!

We keep talking about improving ourselves. Human tendency is to want more and this makes him/her go to any extent to get it. But the question always remains. HOW? How can you say that you have improved yourself? Do you compare yourself with your peers and see where you are lagging and then try to overcome the shortcomings? Or do you idolize certain people and try to be like them? Or further do you ask your closest, about what you need to do to get there? We all tend to do one of these things. But how many times do we ask our own self?

Sometime ago I read somewhere that the best competition you can enter in your life is, where you compete against yourself. I guess it’s a sure shot way of improving oneself. At this moment, say we decide to better ourselves. I think we can assess ourselves by asking questions to ourselves. Be a little practical too and set achievable goals. Then work towards it and by the time you reach the time you set as a deadline you will yourself realize how much you have bettered.

I guess the best thing would be when – your parents say “WE ARE PROUD OF OUR CHILD” or your siblings say “WE ARE PROUD OF OUR SIBLING” or your spouse says “I AM PROUD OF MY SPOUSE” or your friends say “WE ARE PROUD OF OUR FRIEND”. You would have achieved a great deal even if one of these says so. But your life will be fulfilled if ALL say so.

But never forget to say - I am PROUD of myself. :-)

Thank Almighty!

I think of things I got to do. Then there are thoughts about writing something. I seem to have hit a writer’s block. So the first thing to be done is to demand the block to get out of my way. I think it is moving oh so slowly because writing down your thoughts is one thing but creating thoughts in order to write them down is completely another.

Anyway, now that I have started writing let me tell you about an incident that happened during my school days. I was in class 7 and my parents had just bought me a new bicycle. Needless to say, it was then my most prized possession. The very next day I said goodbye to my school-bus and pedaled my way to school. Boy, it was blissful. Many other friends had their own bicycles and there was nothing in terms of envy, around. But as they say in Hindi, “KISIKI NAZAR LAG GAYI” on my cycle.

My neighbor who was also my classmate and who also had a bicycle had damaged his cycle’s lock. So in school we used to lock our cycles together using my wire lock. After returning from school, he used to carry his cycle all the way to the 3rd floor of his building till his house. One day he carried my wire lock along and my cycle was left unlocked in the parking. Then I guess, within half an hour my precious cycle was stolen.

I was distraught to say the least and even though my classmate ferried me double-seat to school and back, I hurled abuses at him for being careless about my cycle. Days passed but my grief wouldn’t subside. On one particular weekend I was alone at home. I went to the room where we had our little temple with idols and pictures of deities. For the next one hour I wept and pleaded to God to somehow retrieve to me what I had lost. It was only when I thought I had no tears left that I stopped weeping.

The next day another neighbor much younger to me and who studied in my school said, “Bhaiya, I saw a cycle very similar to yours in school. It’s locked with a green padlock.” I smiled and thanked him for the info, but in my mind rubbished off any hopes of getting back my cycle. Nevertheless, the next day I carried the purchase receipt of my cycle with me to school. It bore the cycle’s unique manufacturing number.

I walked into the school gate and glanced left to the cycle parking lot. Something caught my eye and I walked towards it. I saw the green padlock my little neighbor had mentioned about. It was of course locking a chain wound around the rear wheel of a bicycle. MY BICYCLE, I thought. I took out the receipt and checked the number. Yes, it was the same. Of all places I had found my cycle in my own school. I called some of my friends and everyone confirmed. That afternoon me and my friends rushed to the cycle parking after school and found who the new owner was. I took down his address and that very evening I and my parents were at his place.

The place was a slum of sorts and the boy’s parents were not returning my cycle. Their argument was that someone had sold them the cycle and they even produced a paper receipt with a revenue stamp affixed. We then threatened them with police action for purchasing a stolen cycle. Now they mellowed down and with some convincing and about 200 rupees my cycle was back with me.

God had heard and my joy knew no bounds as I rode back home on my cycle with my parent’s following in an auto-rickshaw. I also remember getting a bloody lip just before I reached home, but I was too happy to care. Nah, I didn’t get into a brawl or something. I had just bent down to kiss my cycle’s handle while riding when I hit a speed breaker and bruised my lip. After reaching home I thanked my little neighbor first and then most importantly thanked God. From then on, every day even I started carrying my cycle daily to the 3rd floor till my house.