The Notebook

Saw 'The Notebook' the other day. A good movie in all which throws to you another definition of LOVE. There was this handsome young man who fell in love with a ravishing young lady. The movies goes through with fine display of emotional love running between them. This lady is from an opulent background and the boy from a mediocre family. This forms the demarcation between them laid down by her parents. For reasons predictable the pair get separated despite the lady being defiant to her parents decision. Both had faith in their relationship. Both had the urge to be together. He penned down 365 letters a year in a hope to be together again, but in vain. Her parents kept her away from the letters. Emotions buried deep into their hearts. The second half cycles through interesting phases with the man standing on his own feet, building a magnificient house. The lady now falls in love with another person who is affluent and thus captures her parents wishes. They get engaged and when the lady gets to know about this person, her eyes reflected the buried emotions.
The melodramatic dialogues follow. She expresses what its like being with her first love and the person to whom she is engaged. With thoughts running away, she listens to her heart and goes back to her love.

This entire story is capsuled in a book being narrated by an old man(the boy) to his love(who is suffering from memory loss) in an attempt to get back her to life.
The one thing which moved my heart is the man's intense revelation of love to his love.
For me Love means nothing but inspiration. You being an inspiration to her, and she being an inspiration to you. I feel there should be no compromises, no sacrifices and not saying sorry. It should turn out to be strong and meaningful. So our inner beauty adds values to our life. Our daily life should be supplemented with the addition of virtuous qualities to our inner self. Love is a virtue which we are yet to understand.

A little peice which I love...few lines from 'Only Hope' by Switchfoot.

There's a song that's inside of my soul
It's the one that I've tried to write
over and over again
I'm awake and in the infinite cold
But You sing to me over and over and
over again

So I lay my head back down
And I lift my hands
And pray to be only Yours
I pray to be only Yours
I know now You're my only hope

A close one...

Mid-August y2k. I was in my early 10th; my final year in school. Life seemed akin to a merry-go-round where you stumble upon a point again and again. The point which you disagree upon, which is subtle and unclear. These odds and evens are to be balanced, which provides a path which is not disturbing. Many incidents touches our lives which in one way or other is blurred as I said.

Though my knack in playing basket-ball was minimal when compared to other tall bunch of guys in skool, I did manage to toss the ball into the basket at times. Eyes aimed at right angle part of the shooting square with right balance on foot is what I learned at skool. This proved to be handy. I put my hand to the plow in learning the game. I put it to practice at a basket-ball court near my place. Me and my friends set out to play almost daily after skool. At times it was a solitary play for me. The place I lived was a complete military area. So there were jawans accompanying me in the play as a part of their custom practice. Their physical endurance, tough discipline, courageous built and devotion to duty draws a deep veneration for them.

I chanced upon a jawan who later became a close friend of mine. I was trying for a 3 pointer which I couldn't get it right. His instructions were all that I followed. Dribbling, rebound shots, 2:3 pointers, zero angle shots, reverse throws and many more. He was a perfect 10/10 in it. It had become a daily task for me to come and learn from him. I can go ahead and term him as divine intervention. I came to know that he was a JCO and was posted there recently. He was from Kerala.

I was happy with his company, his talks and his play. Days went by. It was raining one day. I was soaked to the bone. But this couldn't keep me or him away from the game. The earthly aroma rising up into the air filled around. We played for more than 2 hrs. Shortly, I came to know that he has to move. That was a sad moment for me. At one shot you really feel alone when something that makes you comfortable leaves you... I try to puff in more oxygen to make it my way. A way which became blurred. A week later, I caught sight of him. All he could say was that he was posted in Madras. A simple grin was all I could give back. I now feel how heavy was that moment for me.

You cannot roll back the hands of clock and again experience the thrill..It doesn't fit in..Days gone which I cherish. I hope to chance upon him one day...

To Kill the Mocking exams!

I really need to step over my mind to think about the approaching exams. I sit with my chin propped on my hands but soon realise that am sitting on a boiling pot of exams. I have only one book to excel....
"5 exams in a Nutshell" a Primer and an Advanced learners edition. The pre-requisites are--One should know what the 5 xams are, what these exams deal with and to shield yourself when you dont understand anything.
To me the exam hall is the largest battlefield. The questions are the sharpest archers and their aim can never be let down. I better zero in on the books before I get badly hurt.
So will take a gap for a week fighting the war and get back with tearful..oh! sorry cheerful eyes.

I dont like wat?

I need to flap my wings of mind faster to attain a certain degree of idiosyncrasy. This point helps me out in thinking better before I descend down n finally doze offf.

I dont drink..I dont smoke..I abstain from these things. Pretty gud huh(-: Electricity is cut, I dont like to get off the bed though am perspiring. I dont like to wash my clothes. Got inspired after watching the magnum opus 'Satte pe Satta'.
Silberschatz--Galvin--Gagne---> Operating system concepts..I dont like to flip over the first page to view the contents inside. It kills me.
Screen diva Rekha turns 51..I dont like reading such crap news..
India successfully test fired Trishul..Missiles? not 4 me..instead am good in making paper rockets!
Microsoft's fourth quarter net profits is put up on net..Its foreseeable. Some 6-7 digits with million dollars suffixed(m$) to it..Nothin new.
Had a hearty meal..wanna go to bed..Some one buzzes on messenger and spills the bad news. A class has been scheduled now..I dont like this.
My system is getting clogged with many processes eating its memory. I dont like this..
Net got disconnected. I really hate this..
I would love to run away from this mechanical world. But cant help it out..I forget everything n go to sleep..
Am now in a new world..am floating on the ocean bed with diving costumes n scuba tanks all set right. Strange..its cool in here...My pc lies in front of me. An ideal world.
Waterband is better than broadband. Nothin to worry abt for another 6 hrs until I wake up n get back to normalcy..
May be I like this..

Its rainin!!

Mid-August y2k. I was in my early 10th; my final year in school. Life seemed akin to a merry-go-round where you stumble upon a point again and again. The point which you disagree upon, which is subtle and unclear. These odds and evens are to be balanced, which provides a path which is not disturbing. Many incidents touches our lives which in one way or other is blurred as I said.

Though my knack in playing basket-ball was minimal when compared to other tall bunch of guys in skool, I did manage to toss the ball into the basket at times. Eyes aimed at right angle part of the shooting square with right balance on foot is what I learned at skool. This proved to be handy. I put my hand to the plow in learning the game. I put it to practice at a basket-ball court near my place. Me and my friends set out to play almost daily after skool. At times it was a solitary play for me. The place I lived was a complete military area. So there were jawans accompanying me in the play as a part of their custom practice.
Their physical endurance, tough discipline, courageous built and devotion to duty draws a deep veneration for them. I chanced upon a jawan who later became a close friend of mine. I was trying for a 3 pointer which I couldn't get it right. His instructions were all that I followed. Dribbling, rebound shots, 2:3 pointers, zero angle shots, reverse throws and many more. He was a perfect 10/10 in it. It had become a daily task for me to come and learn from him. I can go ahead and term him as divine intervention. I came to know that he was a JCO and was posted there recently. He was from Kerala.

I was happy with his company, his talks and his play. Days went by. It was raining one day.
But this couldn't keep me or him away from the game. The earthly aroma rising up into the air filled around. We played for more than 2 hrs. Shortly, I came to know that he has to move. That was a sad moment for me. I try to puff in more oxygen to make it my way. A way which became blurred. A week later, I caught sight of him. All he could say was that he was posted in Madras. A simple grin was all I could give back. I now feel how heavy was that moment for me. Days gone which I cherish. That should be ok for me..coz I am emotionally stable..

A week later, I was again back to the court with my frenz. I was soaked to the bone; it was raining. Some one yelled out from one corner - "chotu its rainin!" ..I shot back.."Ya it is...it is..sir.."