tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33359136896993162252024-03-14T03:38:12.173+08:00...echoes of lifethe depths of my mind...out in the open.SVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17907067991349800688noreply@blogger.comBlogger37125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3335913689699316225.post-43774487861564414622017-12-30T17:45:00.000+08:002017-12-30T17:45:11.981+08:00On the water<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Flashy
white boats on the water,<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Zipping around
with no superior purpose<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Than to
entertain.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Helmed
by monied ones leading luxurious lives<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Wanting to
escape worries of inequalities that abound.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Great black
boats on the water<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Chugging
along around the world and back again,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Laden
with great tons of consumable matter.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Beasts
of burden, tools with the sole purpose <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Of feeding
the voracious appetite of this insatiable world.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WY1fuJART1c/Wkdet1VWgOI/AAAAAAAALQ0/y9srJMM83nAsLs6ryDcr45tParmsBy7WwCLcBGAs/s1600/on%2Bthe%2Bwater-001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="387" data-original-width="719" height="215" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WY1fuJART1c/Wkdet1VWgOI/AAAAAAAALQ0/y9srJMM83nAsLs6ryDcr45tParmsBy7WwCLcBGAs/s400/on%2Bthe%2Bwater-001.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Blue
boats on the water,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Heading
to a place of magic and mayhem where spinning wheels tell tales and twist
fortunes<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Wild and
whimsical.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Over the
years, many have come and gone<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">But the few
who stayed on witnessed the waves of a million riches won and lost.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Red and
white boats on the water,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Back and
forth to just beyond the horizon.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">So near yet
largely unknown,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">A realm of
discovery for reclusive metropolitan dwellers<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Hustling
across the water by day, only to retreat into tranquillity after dark.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Junk boats
on the water,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Brown
and black, stunning red sails.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Mystical
and iconic remnants of maritime greatness.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Transformed
into ornate ferries<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Propagating
fairy-tale visions of the glorious past to myriad wanderers.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">A motley
multitude of workman boats on the water,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Commandeered
by hard-working crew of vital skills, irreplaceable <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Yet innocuous
to all but a discerning few.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">The best
ones of them all,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Fulfilling
and meaningful lives spent in virtuous isolation. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-large; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-large; text-indent: -18pt;">Satyajit
Venkatraman</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-large; text-indent: -18pt;">30<sup>th</sup> December 2017</i></div>
SVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17907067991349800688noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3335913689699316225.post-59415381037182811722012-01-18T01:42:00.002+08:002012-01-18T01:46:07.106+08:00all these years...<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:hyphenationzone>21</w:HyphenationZone> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">all these years</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">i told myself i was happy.</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">i thought i was a good man.</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">while life always went by</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">in the blink of an eye.</span></p><p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">all these years</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">i felt i had a good life.</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">i went around the world.</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">always on the move </span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">chasing new dreams and making new friends.</span></p><p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">and all the while, i was missing</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">a piece of me that grew a little each day.</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">and all the while, time just passed by.</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">but how could i have known?</span></p><p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">all these years</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">i enjoyed the good things</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">i revelled in pompous comforts</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">with an attitude that some considered obnoxious</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">while others thought was unburdened luxury.</span></p><p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">all these years</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">i thought i was free spirited.</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">i flew over the rooftops and green fields.</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">fuelled by the drug of freedom </span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">nothing could hurt me at all.</span></p><p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">and all the while, i was missing</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">a piece of me that grew a little each day.</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">and all the while, time just passed by.</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">but how could i have known?</span></p><p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">all these years</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">i hear magical music.</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">voices comfort me with soft whispers</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">while i asleep,</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">the serene slumber of happiness.</span></p><p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">all these years</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">i see lucid visions</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">that take me to enchanted lands</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">and still i sleep</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">afloat in a sea of tranquility.</span></p><p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">and all the while, i was missing</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">a piece of me that grew a little each day.</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">and all the while, time just passed by.</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB" lang="EN-GB">but how could i have known?</span><br /></p><p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal">(…to be continued…)</p><p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:verdana;">- satyajit venkatraman</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">January 2012</span></p>SVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17907067991349800688noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3335913689699316225.post-10691239229707234562011-07-25T21:09:00.001+08:002011-07-25T21:10:25.638+08:00i am...<span style="color:#339999;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">i sing my own tunes.<br />no training or talent to speak of<br />but i create a thousand songs everyday<br />inspired masterpieces of art they are not<br />but everyone loves them.<br /><br />i dance to my own rhythm.<br />no stage fright or anxiety perceivable,<br />i can perform anywhere, at any time.<br />at times graceful, often amusing<br />but always entertaining.<br /><br />i march to my own command.<br />with no care for rules or orders<br />but with a determined, almost obsessive, single-minded focus.<br />always doing what i want, when i want to;<br />even so, no one complains.<br /><br />i’m scared of my own shadow.<br />and everything that moves or is still.<br />on the other hand, i can be incredibly brave<br />and do things no one else dares to do<br />as if there were the simplest tasks.<br /><br />i walk on my own path.<br />stumbling, crawling and scrambling,<br />i move forward as much as in reverse.<br />never giving up,<br />until i reach my goal.<br /><br />i write my own story.<br />with peerless creativity and imagination;<br />using any tools and substances i can find.<br />so advanced are my plots,<br />they are rarely understood by others.<br /><br />i speak my own truth.<br />through hitherto unknown languages and media;<br />lucid and insightful but never philosophical,<br />my theories of life and truth<br />are often not popular or wide-spread.<br /><br />i live my own life.<br />away from the all the pervading chaos,<br />in my own imaginary land.<br />unaware of the ways of the world and<br />at peace with myself and all around.<br /><br />i am a child.<br /><br />- satyajit venkatraman</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">21st July 2011</span> </span>SVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17907067991349800688noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3335913689699316225.post-82914905575393558712011-07-15T22:26:00.004+08:002011-07-15T22:56:55.412+08:00set yourself free<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LfdtP8yjMb0/TiBU92Ma9aI/AAAAAAAAASU/vsS-WhQiWJs/s1600/whirlpool.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629592955709486498" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 144px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LfdtP8yjMb0/TiBU92Ma9aI/AAAAAAAAASU/vsS-WhQiWJs/s200/whirlpool.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><p><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#339999;">what happened to the serenity of simple living?<br />an easy and dignified existence.<br />sitting by the ocean, watching ripples in the water:<br />endless, limitless, flowing through our minds with nowhere to go,<br />the waves had no objective but to be there for us to watch.<br />we lived our own lives, honest and harmonious;<br />idyllic fragments in time.<br />the right to be at peace was not just a law.<br /><br />where did it come from – that sense of urgency?<br />the suspicion that all was not as it seemed.<br />an urge to do more consumed us,<br />destroying our inherent tranquility.<br />a deceitful call to wake up and rise above,<br />lying to us about everything we knew as real.<br />an invisible force lifting us,<br />coercing us to break out of our ordinary lives.<br /><br />have we come too far now?<br />all we hear are startling echoes of our deeds.<br />we despair at what we have become.<br />like scarecrows standing in a field,<br />we live an endless cycle of night after day,<br />exhausted from trying to out-run our fate.<br />why did we leave our blissful lives behind, we reminisce.<br />must we spend our lives drowned in regret?<br /><br />where do we go from here?<br />have we come so far that we don’t remember our past?<br />but surely, things can be the same again<br />because we see visions of laughter and contentment.<br />must our futures be a whirlpool of misery?<br />or can we save ourselves?<br />there must be someone out there to help us!<br />will we have a chance to redeem ourselves?<br /><br />why must these questions go unanswered?<br />we can reclaim our lives as our own.<br />we were peaceful once.<br />we must refuse to be prisoners in our own hands,<br />and believe that the future lies in our serene past.<br />we must set ourselves free.<br />and find that place again –<br />where the right to be at peace was not just a law.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#339999;"><em><strong>- satyajit venkatraman<br />15th July 2011</strong></em> </span></span><br /><br /><em><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#339999;">this is my feeble response to the mindlessness of the events of 2 days back and the endless list of similar events. And the “mindlessness” is not just limited to the perpetrators but the world in general including the government, other politicians, the media and common people like you and me who claim to be outraged and helpless but cannot (do not want to) do anything more. </span></em></p></div></div>SVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17907067991349800688noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3335913689699316225.post-40421634205990716932011-02-24T22:37:00.000+08:002011-02-24T22:38:45.162+08:00what if?what if there comes a day<br />when you stop learning and start forgetting what you’ve learnt?<br />would you be satisfied that you have spent your life learning<br />and have something that is yours,<br />even if to forget?<br />or saddened at not knowing all there was to learn?<br /><br />what if there comes a day<br />when you realize that your dreams may never come true?<br />would you be sad, knowing that you would never <br />dream another dream?<br />or enlightened that they were meant to be dreamt<br />and the inspiration for everything you achieved?<br /><br />what if there comes a day<br />when you finally have to admit that you lack the talent?<br />to play that awesome riff on your guitar<br />would you grow your hair, pierce your ears and start a garage band?<br />or would you enjoy the thrill<br />of pleasant rhythmic strumming?<br /><br />what if there comes a day<br />when you know you’re never going to own that red Ferrari?<br />would you rue the fact that you were never good enough<br />to achieve what you had always wanted?<br />or look back and see <br />all the wonderful things you’ve seen and enjoyed?<br /><br />what if there comes a day<br />when you realize you’re closer to the end than the beginning?<br />would you have lived your life the way that you wanted to<br />or in the shadow of another?<br />would you worry about the long way down?<br />or savour the moment, poised on the edge of the pinnacle?<br /><br />- satyajit venkatraman<br />24th February 2011SVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17907067991349800688noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3335913689699316225.post-23707748532173246592010-12-28T17:30:00.000+08:002010-12-28T17:31:21.599+08:00i own the nightDark's moon rises high<br />And shuts the sun from the sky.<br />Ever so soft, ever so inviting;<br />She pulls me up, towards her<br />Like a sunflower pulls the Sun.<br />The big white smile on her face<br />Is irresistible.<br />i fly to the sky, drawn by the power<br />Of the Dark's moon.<br />i feel my power, i feel my might.<br />"You can fly, but only if you want to";<br />She says to me,<br />"And i can make you fly, only if you want to."<br />i'm flying, i'm soaring, i own the night.<br />"No", she says, "i do!"<br />Too late, i see,<br />Its just a bait….<br /><br /><em>- satyajit venkatraman<br />3rd September 1998</em>SVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17907067991349800688noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3335913689699316225.post-35613422335592852092010-12-28T17:23:00.002+08:002010-12-28T17:27:44.040+08:00Campaign for…Campaign for…<br />Freedom of speech…for the dumb;<br />Freedom of movement…for the lame;<br />Freedom of sight…for the blind;<br />Freedom of thought…for the mindless;<br />Freedom of life…for the dead;<br />Where the mind is without fear…there let terror reign!!!<br /><br />- satyajit venkatraman<br />22nd March 1999<br /><br /><em>SV Notes: sorry Mr. Tagore, no offence meant to your beautiful words...just reflects my state of mind back in those days.</em>SVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17907067991349800688noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3335913689699316225.post-9213194206001565422010-12-28T17:18:00.003+08:002010-12-28T17:23:53.655+08:00The Battle<span style="font-family:verdana;">Shades of night<br />Melt into the shadows,<br />As the Mist does battle with<br />The Rising Sun.<br />The battle for supremacy<br />Rages on.<br />First the Sun, then the other;<br />The misty dew on the trees<br />Melts under the power<br />Of the life-giver, the Sun.<br />Rays of light<br />Streaking through the misty morning<br />The Mist slowly dies but<br />Lives to fight another day.<br /><br />- satyajit venkatraman<br />winter 2000 (?)<br /><br /><em>SV Notes: Conceived on the bus to Infosys in Bangalore one lovely mid-winter’s morning. Unfortunately, not set down in words at the time. So the thought kind of meanders and I feel doesn’t drive home the beauty perceived.</em></span>SVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17907067991349800688noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3335913689699316225.post-15812704740146070682010-11-29T23:23:00.003+08:002010-11-30T00:07:19.345+08:00closet insomniac<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__WnrWnsTZf8/TPPPpJLKroI/AAAAAAAAAQc/G45VUuHpj-8/s1600/16358.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545003871967555202" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__WnrWnsTZf8/TPPPpJLKroI/AAAAAAAAAQc/G45VUuHpj-8/s200/16358.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WnrWnsTZf8/TPPPPtjhFXI/AAAAAAAAAQU/pXf8UJKrN0A/s1600/16358.jpg"></a><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;">you lie awake at night<br />pondering all the things that might change your life,<br />things beyond your control,<br />things you cannot alter.<br />you cannot fall asleep, try as you might,<br />and leave a problem unsolved.<br /><br />you hear eerie sounds<br />altering your train of thought.<br />a door shuts softly,<br />a wooden floor creaks.<br />is it a guard on the grounds<br />or your ears trying to keep up with your imagination?<br /><br />you see a creepy silhouette<br />standing in the doorway<br />moving with uncanny elegance.<br />suspended in mid-air is it something<br />hung on the door, maybe a jacket?<br />or an unearthly intruder trying to steal your thoughts?<br /><br />sleeping peacefully next to you<br />perhaps dreaming of a parallel universe,<br />your ever-faithful soul mate<br />drifts into rapid eye movement.<br />as if it’s something totally new<br />you wonder if you will ever be as tranquil?<br /><br />today ticks over to yesterday<br />you wish you could just lay back<br />and relish the serene moonlight.<br />yearning for elusive slumber that never comes.<br />still awake at the first rays of dawn you have to say<br />there is nothing more you want than those forty winks.<br /><br />(</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>not based on a true story)<br /></em><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><strong><em>- satyajit venkatraman<br />29th november 2010</em></strong> </span></div></div>SVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17907067991349800688noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3335913689699316225.post-37033988747298308592010-10-15T23:52:00.001+08:002010-10-15T23:54:50.030+08:00what a pity! (2 sides to every story)<span style="font-family:verdana;">these poor little rich kids,<br />just “hanging” at the street corner.<br />flaunting their fancy watches and designer clothes.<br />they burn away their souls and waste their talents<br />and choose to live on their parents’ gifts.<br /><br />these poor little misguided kids,<br />tagging along with their more fortunate “friends”<br />drooling over what they cannot afford<br />little do they know<br />they’d be better off on their own.<br /><br />these poor little rich people,<br />earning their millions through "grand manoeuvres".<br />providing for a comfortable future,<br />only to find that the next generation<br />wipes it all away and has to start all over again.<br /><br />these poor little "underprivileged" people,<br />scrambling to survive through their sweat and tears;<br />wishing for what their wealthy neighbours have,<br />they bend their backs and suppress their sorrows.<br />when they sleep at night, all they think about is tomorrow.<br /><br />these poor little “third world” countries,<br />scurrying to please their prosperous counterparts;<br />vying for their attention and blessing.<br />if only they knew<br />they would do so much better if they didn’t care.<br /><br />these poor little rich countries<br />rambling on about their "glorious past"<br />the state supports them all:<br />the unfortunate and needy to the lazy bourgeois<br />united, they avalanche their way to a shared gloom.<br /><br />what a pity: if you think no one cares for their neighbour,<br />why does everyone care what everyone else thinks of them?<br />what a pity: if the only way up is round and around<br />why is everyone so busy “succeeding”?<br />what a pity: if the world is so full of gloom and worry<br />why does everyone smile at children playing in the park?<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><strong>- satyajit venkatraman<br />15th october 2010</strong><br /><br /><em>(derived from the realization that when i think commuters on the metro are grumpy and unsmiling, i forget that i am one of them too and someone is thinking the same about me!)</em></span>SVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17907067991349800688noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3335913689699316225.post-37139515732069317282010-10-12T23:42:00.004+08:002010-10-12T23:47:21.625+08:00words<span style="font-family:verdana;">Words are the basis of languages<br />Words are the means through which we communicate<br />Words arranged in an stimulating fashion make poetry<br />Words combined with a pleasant tune become music<br /><br />Words with affection become love<br />Words make us humans from mere beings<br />Words are the heart of relationships<br />Words are symbols of our intelligence<br /><br />Words with malice become hate<br />Words can break a man<br />Words can make a man a monster<br />Words with an aim to hurt have no meaning<br /><br />Words: the evolution from infancy to childhood<br />Words: a song that i hate<br />Words: the first song i learnt to play<br />Words: an enigma with the power to change the world </span><br /><br /><em><strong>- satyajit venkatraman<br />june-october 2010</strong></em>SVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17907067991349800688noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3335913689699316225.post-22243644128323641532010-07-13T22:22:00.005+08:002010-07-13T22:32:46.234+08:00say nothingwhen i was a child, minding my own life,<br />you made fun of my shape,<br />you said i was too fat and too meek,<br />that i couldn’t bend and touch my toes.<br />still i said nothing.<br />you took advantage of my docility<br />and enslaved me as “nature’s freak”,<br />i broke my back for you to cheat and steal and ravage.<br />still i said nothing.<br /><br />when i was a boy, finding my way,<br />you made fun of my intelligence,<br />you called me a nerd and a geek,<br />made me resent my good grades<br />still i said nothing.<br />you made fun of my religion,<br />you said my gods were funny and weak,<br />questioned my motives, beliefs and philosophy.<br />still i said nothing.<br /><br />when i was a young man, increasing in confidence,<br />you made fun of my lack of direction.<br />you said i was confused and my future was bleak,<br />that i would be lost in my own backyard.<br />still i said nothing.<br />you made fun of my culture and heritage,<br />you ignored the niche i was trying to eke,<br />dismissed me as a slave of my past.<br />still i said nothing.<br /><br />now i’m a healthy adult,<br />you cant make fun of my success<br />for all the reasons you may seek.<br />your home falls apart around you.<br />still i say nothing.<br />your fortunes have been turned,<br />this is the end of your winning streak.<br />all alone, your old friends with troubles of their own.<br />still i say nothing.<br /><br />in the future, i will rule the world<br />with all the others that you tormented.<br />together we will scale the peak<br />of the mountain you could never dream of climbing.<br />and i will still say nothing.<br />when you have failed on all fronts and lost all hope,<br />you will want to come by and take a peek<br />at our success and maybe even join us.<br />and i will still say nothing.<br /><br /><em>(as an allegory for India)</em><br /><em></em><br /><strong><em>- satyajit venkatraman</em><br /><em>july, 2010</em></strong>SVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17907067991349800688noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3335913689699316225.post-49355527533002776042010-06-30T00:39:00.004+08:002010-11-29T23:28:54.406+08:00illusions of reality<span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><br /><strong>I. disillusion</strong><br /><br />used to see in colour<br />but now its only flashes of black and white.<br />tantalizing sensations<br />all that i touch burns my fingers.<br />used to hear you sing to me<br />but now its only sounds that hurt my ears.<br />no more sweet languages<br />only words that make no sense anymore.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><em>built this fortress stone by stone<br />protection from the evil world.<br />one by one i left behind<br />everything that was dear to me.<br />but now its all gone,<br />even my decadent mind is not my own now.<br /></em><br /><strong>II. despair</strong><br /><br />used to be the lucky one<br />but now i always draw the shortest straw.<br />mystifying choices<br />don’t know which is worse, isolation or remorse.<br />used to have a magic touch<br />but now all my spells are voodoo hexes.<br />my wishes have been granted<br />and my worst dreams have come true.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><em>built this fortress stone by stone<br />protection from the evil world.<br />one by one i left behind<br />everything that was dear to me.<br />but now that i want to break free<br />i’m trapped by my own creation.</em><br /><br /><br /><strong>III. discovery</strong></span><br /><strong></strong><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">is my disillusion and despair real?<br />or a figment of my infidel mind?<br />was i trying to escape from my own illusions of reality?<br />all that colour, those tantalizing sensations;<br />is that my past, erased forever<br />or just my suppressed memories?<br />is everything i once loved waiting out there for me?<br />should i live in despair or die recovering my desire?<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><em>built this fortress stone by stone<br />and now i’ll break it down.<br />one by one i will bring together<br />everything i have left behind.<br />and now that i want to break free<br />will my own creation hold me back?</em><br /><br /><strong>IV. desire</strong> </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">didn’t know how long it would take<br />or how hard it would be.<br />didn’t know where the road i had to take would lead<br />but i had to find my way out of the madness.<br />somewhere along the way, my illusion turned into an infinite void<br />and my insanity leaked into the endless ocean of delirium.<br />now i’m in a vast emptiness surrounded by broken stones<br />and a whole world of colour and undiscovered sensations.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><em>built this fortress stone by stone<br />and now i’ll break it down.<br />one by one i will bring together<br />everything i have left behind.<br />and now that i want to break free<br />i know my own creation wont hold me back.</em><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><em><strong>- satyajit venkatraman<br />29th june 2010</strong></em><br /><br /><em><strong>(inspired by “Black and White World” by Redemption)</strong></em></span>SVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17907067991349800688noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3335913689699316225.post-23384895333801158202010-06-21T21:01:00.001+08:002010-06-21T21:02:42.213+08:00the truth<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;">真</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;">理</span>SVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17907067991349800688noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3335913689699316225.post-10892348639591338982010-05-20T00:16:00.002+08:002010-05-20T00:22:21.054+08:00not a storm<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__WnrWnsTZf8/S_QQDiQ3UuI/AAAAAAAAAQA/0X0z25jkqBk/s1600/cyclone.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473017100085187298" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__WnrWnsTZf8/S_QQDiQ3UuI/AAAAAAAAAQA/0X0z25jkqBk/s200/cyclone.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#339999;">not a storm<br />of swirling waters and churning skies.<br />swallowing everything it can overtake<br />and leaving emptiness and sorrow in its wake.<br /><br />not a fire<br />fierce and untamed, devouring all things living and dead.<br />raging without limit, destroying without care<br />not many can subdue it and if you’re in the way, beware!<br /><br /><em>just a simple man trying to live life,<br />to exist without much ado.<br />just another gloomy optimist,<br />there’s so many, its nothing new.<br /></em><br />not a mountain<br />rising above the mediocrity.<br />solid and unwavering against the tumultuous world<br />plain for all to see, with all its majesty unfurled.<br /><br />not a bird<br />flying free and tranquil above it all.<br />surveying the madness down below<br />but distant and always mellow.<br /><br /><em>just a simple man trying to live life,<br />to exist without much ado.<br />just another gloomy optimist,<br />there’s so many, its nothing new.<br /></em><br />not a angel<br />or an agent of a higher power.<br />protecting the virtues and morals<br />of people who are mere mortals.<br /><br />not a hero<br />fighting wars and saving the world.<br />finding miracle cures, inventing wondrous machines,<br />flying stricken planes, simply better than other human beings.<br /><br /><em>just a simple man trying to live life,<br />to exist without much ado.<br />just another gloomy optimist,<br />there’s so many, its nothing new.</em><br /></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#339999;">not an art<br />with magnificent skills inherent.<br />flair presented with audacity<br />years of toil and tears resulting in a spectacle of serenity.<br /><br />not a dream<br />of infinite possibilities without boundary.<br />where all is possible in a tranquil state<br />and the ending is always great.<br /><br /><em>just a simple man trying to live life,<br />to exist without much ado.<br />just another gloomy optimist,<br />there’s so many, its nothing new.<br /></em><br /><strong><em>- satyajit venkatraman<br />may, 2010</em></strong></span></div>SVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17907067991349800688noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3335913689699316225.post-12727623278960036062010-05-07T20:27:00.002+08:002010-05-17T19:51:36.562+08:00haunted<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__WnrWnsTZf8/S_EtwIOsqPI/AAAAAAAAAP4/gYD5CwUgw2o/s1600/DSC00625.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472205327097964786" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__WnrWnsTZf8/S_EtwIOsqPI/AAAAAAAAAP4/gYD5CwUgw2o/s200/DSC00625.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#339999;">haunted by the past;<br />places you’ve been and things you’ve seen,<br />people you’ve met, and skeletons in the closet,<br />emotions you’ve felt and the cards you’ve been dealt.<br /><br />haunted by memories<br />good ones, bad ones, with you forever.<br />things you’ll never forget, alliances that you cannot sever,<br />nostalgic thoughts and beliefs that you revere.<br /><br />haunted by the present<br />who you are, and your desires never too far<br />fighting to stay afloat, in this world like a sinking boat;<br />running a race that you never thought you would face.<br /><br />haunted by friends and by family,<br />dear ones that cannot see that you have a vision.<br />distant as it may seem, its not just an illusion,<br />you’ve set out alone on your mission.<br /><br />haunted by the future<br />where do you go from here, miles to go or somewhere near?<br />will you find your way and keep your detractors at bay?<br />will you be happy when you die, or was it all just a lie?<br /><br />haunted by transience of life<br />what’s it all for? what happens in the end<br />to dreams and the beliefs that, through your life, you defend?<br />are you just another man, or a legend?<br /><br /></span><strong><em><span style="color:#339999;">satyajit venkatraman<br />may 2010</span></em></strong></span></div>SVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17907067991349800688noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3335913689699316225.post-65262480084886387682010-03-05T22:36:00.004+08:002010-05-20T00:24:35.371+08:00identity<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WnrWnsTZf8/S5EXWiCh7pI/AAAAAAAAAO8/9hHMTaCBTQY/s1600-h/pont+de+bir+hakeim+et+le+quai+de+grenelle.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445159100329619090" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WnrWnsTZf8/S5EXWiCh7pI/AAAAAAAAAO8/9hHMTaCBTQY/s200/pont+de+bir+hakeim+et+le+quai+de+grenelle.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)">i’m a book that cant be read.</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)">created from start to finish</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)">but not written down.</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)">i’m a song that cant be heard</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)">composed note by note</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)">but without a tune to play.</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)"><br />i’m like a bird that cannot fly.</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)">with sturdy wings</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)">but afraid of flying.</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)">i’m like a lion that cannot hunt.</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)">hunger in my stomach</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)">but no strength to run.</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)">i feel like a river that can’t flow.</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)">all the water in the world</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)">but I’ve lost my course.</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)">i’m like a wind that cannot blow.</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)">my force has disappeared</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)">and now i’m just a lot of air.</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)">i feel like a movie that cant be watched.</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)">conceived with characters and every detail</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)">but didn’t get around to the story.</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)">i feel like a game that cant be played.</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)">all the right rules and strategies</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)">but no teams to execute them.</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)">i’m the sun with no light.</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)">the biggest star in the sky</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)">but my fire has been put out.</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)">i’m the moon in the day.</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)">lovely effervescence within me</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)">but no one can see me.<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic">- satyajit venkatraman</span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic">march, 2010</span><br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)"></span></span>SVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17907067991349800688noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3335913689699316225.post-59690370596816865852010-02-19T00:32:00.006+08:002010-05-20T00:23:34.956+08:00…with my head in the sand<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__WnrWnsTZf8/S31sqoTc-GI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/YFcdpBKMvRA/s1600-h/17931_411508535450_646400450_10679163_398623_n.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439623404562741346" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__WnrWnsTZf8/S31sqoTc-GI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/YFcdpBKMvRA/s200/17931_411508535450_646400450_10679163_398623_n.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#339999;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#339999;">what lies beyond the horizon?<br />over the seas on the other side;<br />foreign lands, eclectic people, ancient cultures<br />but what if for me, the world ends at the shore?<br />my world ends in my own land,<br />in familiar territory.<br /><br />what can be learnt from other people?<br />from civilizations beyond my own;<br />new languages, exotic lifestyles, novel experiences<br />but what if for me, my world is my society?<br />my world ends in my own neighbourhood<br />amongst friends and family.<br /><br />what is the truth about my own land?<br />in my country, of my people, today.<br />we ruled the world in ancient times but are feeble now.<br />but what if for me, the present is in the past?<br />my world is in my own head<br />lost in delusional memories.<br /><br />what is my goal in life?<br />to learn from my mistakes, and to learn from others;<br />trial and error, the journey more important than the destination.<br />but what if for me, life’s purpose to achieve perfection?<br />flawless people, perfect community, idyllic life,<br />a utopian existence.<br /><br />what is the value of diversity?<br />people of all races, religions and beliefs;<br />living in harmony, peaceful and tolerant.<br />but what if for me, all “others” are enemies?<br />to be suppressed at all costs<br />leaving me alone in this world with only my kind.<br /><br />what can be gained from pride?<br />in myself, my culture, my heritage;<br />hold my head high, live with dignity.<br />but what if for me, my ideal is everything foreign?<br />distant lands, alien cultures, unfamiliar existence<br />living an empty life.<br /><br />with my head buried in the sand<br />there is nothing beyond the horizon<br />no learning,<br />reality never prevails.<br />life is spent in a endless pursuit of the unachievable<br />the world is one dimensional<br />in the shadow of my dreams.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#339999;"><strong><em>- satyajit venkatraman</em></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#339999;"><strong><em>february, 2010<br /></em></strong><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#339999;"></span>SVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17907067991349800688noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3335913689699316225.post-46631740586690482352010-01-05T23:17:00.005+08:002010-05-17T19:37:18.276+08:00nowhere road<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WnrWnsTZf8/S_EqZE-BHXI/AAAAAAAAAPg/5mHBMNHUez0/s1600/DSC00299.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472201632550821234" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WnrWnsTZf8/S_EqZE-BHXI/AAAAAAAAAPg/5mHBMNHUez0/s200/DSC00299.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WnrWnsTZf8/S0NZJH0pVUI/AAAAAAAAANs/nmsL1WMpb_4/s1600-h/18333_257778308102_733603102_4286539_2610677_n.jpg"></a><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;">outside the window there’s a path,<br />across the mountain to the other side.<br />clouds all around swirling in the night,<br />capturing all in their velvet clutches.<br />leaf-strewn steps lead ahead<br />pines, oaks and maples everywhere its green.<br />a stream gushes from a source unseen<br />a bed of pebbles like crystal in the water.<br /><br />the stream becomes a river,<br />down the rapids and through the falls.<br />yellow fields – sunflowers dancing in the wind<br />with no care of life or time.<br />rich, sweet smells in the air,<br />chirping birds drown out all other sound.<br />fertile pastures everywhere around<br />speak of affluence and prosperity.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>nowhere road is going to take me home<br />with the waves at my feet and spray in my face.<br />nowhere road is going to take me home<br />where the grass is green on both sides.<br />nowhere road is going to take me home<br />where snowy mountain peaks sparkle like a million soft fragments of pleasure.</em><br /><br />the river loses strength, the land becomes dry<br />and majestic waves of golden sand rise.<br />dust in the wind and sand in my face<br />covering everything around in a coat of gold.<br />the desert is a masquerade for gold, oil<br />and wealth for all alluring.<br />dunes shifting and ever changing<br />revealing richness of life and lessons from ages past.<br /><br />endless sands fade into shores of a vast sea;<br />hypnotising rhythm of the surf, the breath of power.<br />a gentle, sleeping giant<br />preserving the immense force within.<br />hidden under the sheen of soothing waves<br />brilliant walls of vibrant coral, full of life and forever boundless.<br />deeper still lie dark caves, creatures ancient and timeless<br />tell a tale of ages past, of freedom, simplicity and trust.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>nowhere road is going to take me home<br />with the waves at my feet and spray in my face.<br />nowhere road is going to take me home<br />where the grass is green on both sides.<br />nowhere road is going to take me home<br />where snowy mountain peaks sparkle like a million soft fragments of pleasure.</em><br /><br />from the depths of the ocean comes a surge<br />of walls of mountains breaking through the surface,<br />the water wanes after a brief struggle<br />content to chip away at the surface for centuries of ascendancy.<br />majestic they rise above all now for all to admire,<br />a crest of silvery snow for a crown.<br />in a panorama of mountain, ocean and pastures overgrown<br />lies a man entranced in his dream.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>nowhere road is going to take me home<br />with the waves at my feet and spray in my face.<br />nowhere road is going to take me home<br />where the grass is green on both sides.<br />nowhere road is going to take me home<br />where snowy mountain peaks sparkle like a million soft fragments of pleasure.</em><br /><br /></span><em><strong><span style="font-family:verdana;">satyajit venkatraman<br />january 2010</span></strong></em></div></div>SVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17907067991349800688noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3335913689699316225.post-6771434745733805652009-12-22T21:44:00.006+08:002010-05-17T19:40:59.791+08:00...its dark outside<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WnrWnsTZf8/S_ErPYw8bQI/AAAAAAAAAPo/QVlGxSuXK7s/s1600/the+moon+through+the+trees.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472202565577633026" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__WnrWnsTZf8/S_ErPYw8bQI/AAAAAAAAAPo/QVlGxSuXK7s/s200/the+moon+through+the+trees.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)">it’s dark outside; sharp as needles,<br />the cold invades layers of warm clothes.<br />soft drops of icy rain and snow fall<br />gently on sleeping roofs.<br /><br />footsteps on the pavement<br />tread gently, exploring and unsure.<br />as the night’s snow turns to ice<br />more falls like silk from above.<br /><br />cold alleys pass by<br />mesmerizing reflections peek out.<br />strange lights sparkle at every corner<br />many colours – red, orange and green.<br /><br />the occasional sound of tyres on wet surface<br />tread gently, exploring and unsure.<br />flashing red once in a while<br />exploring the line between speed and safety.<br /><br />the Tower is dim and the parks empty<br />famous landmarks lie abandoned and vacant.<br />no tickets on sale now<br />no people milling around.<br /><br />now the footsteps are surer<br />and the stride confident.<br />fresh, cool breeze in the air.<br />making good time, but some way to go.<br /><br />slowly but surely light asserts itself,<br />rays of sunlight through the dense shroud of clouds.<br />soon the houses will be empty<br />and people everywhere.<br /><br />he must get back to the start<br />and begin the transformation to the routine.<br />solitude and peace will soon disappear<br />and he will blend into the millions.<br /><br />for a while there was a thrill (or was it a fear?)<br />of being alone (but in a world of marvels).<br />no one to share (and no one to please)<br />but it was just a morning routine.<br /><br /></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,153,153)"><em>December 22, 2009<br />about my morning jog</em><br /></span></div>SVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17907067991349800688noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3335913689699316225.post-68236550520922484112009-09-05T00:05:00.007+08:002010-05-17T19:47:08.431+08:00dream<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__WnrWnsTZf8/S_EssFl0Y5I/AAAAAAAAAPw/U9eCPXCIwM8/s1600/Highlands+scenery+15.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472204158158529426" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__WnrWnsTZf8/S_EssFl0Y5I/AAAAAAAAAPw/U9eCPXCIwM8/s200/Highlands+scenery+15.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>there was this guy, just a simple fellow,<br />enough above and enough below<br />opened his eyes one morning<br />and said to himself, while stretching and yawning<br />“how long have i been asleep?<br />and are those hours mine to keep?”<br /><br />he had taken his life where the winds blew<br />and didn’t realize how fast time flew.<br />he had not read his life’s text<br />twenty one day and fifty the next.<br />“thirty years gone by as one,<br />how did i miss all the fun?”<br /><br />as far as he could remember<br />he was full of life, be it March, July or December.<br />off to work he would go<br />eager to give his all and grow.<br />“you’re a great guy they said,<br />nothing to stop you from getting ahead.”<br /><br />day after year of his life went by<br />he worked, he worked, all he would do was try.<br />he did what he could and always thought<br />that he was not the best but better than a lot.<br />“did that make sense at all?<br />or was it just to soften the fall?”<br /><br />stuck in a rut of a life so cluttered<br />he never rose above to see what really mattered.<br />it was his strength and also his weakness<br />that he didn’t see the danger, the depth and the darkness.<br />“was it so since the beginning?<br />or, all the while, become more threatening?”<br /><br />into his life people came and from it people went<br />he never stopped to ask what it meant.<br />they know what they want just like i do<br />part of the plan, like the one for himself he drew.<br />“is that how i got to where I am today?<br />weary at night and tired by day.”<br /><br />all that happens around him he doesn’t understand<br />strange people with strange habits in a strange land.<br />a small fish in a big ocean he has become<br />and he can only hear the constant hum.<br />“it’s the water, you know<br />just like me, going where the pipes want it to go.”<br /><br />it really was only in his mind<br />the hum of a toy, the kind you could wind.<br />running along, swift at first but grinding to a halt<br />just running out of steam but without a fault.<br />“i am that wind-up toy,<br />old, plastic, and of no use even to the little boy.”<br /><br />how long had he been asleep?<br />and were all those hours his to keep?<br />twenty, strong and all his life before<br />he realizes as the alarm drowns his snore.<br />“although very real it did seem<br />it was all just a dream!”<br /><br />now feeling refreshed, he awakes<br />as above the horizon the sun breaks.<br />off to work he went forgetting<br />all about the dream he had and, at the end of the day expecting,<br />“you’re a great guy”, they said<br />nothing to stop you from getting ahead.”</div>SVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17907067991349800688noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3335913689699316225.post-56564006408472464272009-07-23T00:47:00.005+08:002010-03-01T22:35:52.595+08:00running the wrong wayat two, you learn to run,<br />and it seems like fun.<br />when you get going you don’t really know <br />if you go where you want to go.<br /><br />at five, you simply run.<br />when school is done<br />and you go out to play<br />all you want to do is let your legs flay.<br /><br />at fifteen, you run after pleasure<br />and nothing can measure<br />up to the joy of discovering<br />a new thing that’s exciting.<br /><br />at twenty-five, you run for fun<br />because you know there is none<br />that can get you despondent<br />in your pursuit of merriment.<br /><br />at thirty-five, you run against time.<br />every clock that can chime<br />reminds you that you have to feed<br />several souls full of greed.<br /><br />at forty-five, you run to get away<br />every time the sun greets the day<br />all you want is to escape<br />from all the red tape.<br /><br />at fifty-five, you run to save<br />so you have to be really brave<br />to attain the grace<br />that you promised yourself in the first place.<br /><br />at sixty-five, you run only if you have to<br />but you really don’t want to<br />because you’re tired of the dreary<br />race to destiny.<br /><br />at seventy-five, you realize that you’ve been <br />(and that you really should have seen<br />much earlier in the day)<br />that you were running the wrong way.<br /><br /><br /><em>sv: 21st July 2009<br /><br />for some reason the titular phrase has been stuck in my head for days, so I thought i’d start writing again with this in mind as the theme.</em>SVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17907067991349800688noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3335913689699316225.post-84295019172291172102009-06-17T19:54:00.003+08:002009-06-18T01:18:03.922+08:00Capitalismbrowsing through my archives, i found this kick-ass piece from someone and couldn't help wondering how relevant it is today (not just to the world in general but also me personally):<br /><br /><br /><em><strong>TRADITIONAL CAPITALISM </strong><br />You have two cows.<br />You sell one and buy a bull.<br />Your herd multiplies, and the economy grows.<br />You sell the herd and retire on the income.<br /><br /><strong>AN AMERICAN CORPORATION</strong><br />You have two cows.<br />You sell one, and force the other to produce the milk of four cows. <br />You are surprised when the cow drops dead.<br /><br /><strong>A FRENCH CORPORATION</strong><br />You have two cows.<br />You go on strike because you want three cows.<br /><br /><strong>A JAPANESE CORPORATION</strong><br />You have two cows.<br />You redesign them so they are one-tenth the size of an ordinary cow and produce twenty times the milk. <br />You then create irritating cow cartoon images called Cowkimon and market them world-wide at a fantastic profit.<br /><br /><strong>A GERMAN CORPORATION</strong><br />You have two cows.<br />You reengineer them so they live for 100 years, eat once a month, and milk themselves.<br /><br /><strong>AN ENGLISH CORPORATION</strong><br />You have two cows.<br />Both are mad.<br /><br /><strong>AN ITALIAN CORPORATION</strong><br />You have two cows, but you don't know where they are.<br />You break for lunch.<br /><br /><strong>A RUSSIAN CORPORATION</strong><br />You have two cows.<br />You count them and learn you have five cows.<br />You count them again and learn you have 42 cows.<br />You count them again and learn you have 12 cows.<br />You stop counting cows and open another bottle of vodka.<br /><br /><strong>A SWISS CORPORATION</strong><br />You have 5000 cows, none of which belong to you.<br />You charge others for storing them.<br /><br /><strong>A CHINESE CORPORATION</strong><br />You have two cows.<br />You have 300 people milking them.<br />You claim full employment, high bovine productivity, and arrest the newsman who reported the numbers.<br /><br /><strong>ENRON CAPITALISM</strong><br />You have two cows.You sell three of them to your publicly listed company, using letters of credit opened by your brother-in-law at the bank, then execute a debt/equity swap with an associated general offer so that you get all four cows back, with a tax exemption for five cows.<br />The milk rights of the six cows are transferred via an intermediary to a Cayman Island company secretly owned by the majority shareholder who sells the rights to all seven cows back to your listed company.<br /><br />The annual report says the company owns eight cows, with an option on one more. Sell one cow to buy a new President of the United States, leaving you with nine cows.<br /><br />No balance sheet provided with the release.<br />The public buys your bull.</em><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Addendum from "le kiddo"<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">INDIAN CORPORATION </span><br />Put one cow in the temple, color n coconut it up!!! The other is in the office, training to be an American cow... <br />But in vain - 'cos then we get a Satyam cow</span><br /><br />i am currently crafting Belgian, Spanish and Portuguese versions. any volunteers for an Indian version?SVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17907067991349800688noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3335913689699316225.post-75008835825713627922009-06-05T17:47:00.007+08:002010-03-01T22:35:16.209+08:00The Time Draws Near…<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WnrWnsTZf8/SijtLK-AVlI/AAAAAAAAAIs/7NT8PoLu2uk/s1600-h/NH+-+crystal+lake.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343781734053860946" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__WnrWnsTZf8/SijtLK-AVlI/AAAAAAAAAIs/7NT8PoLu2uk/s200/NH+-+crystal+lake.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">When you are lonely and the time draws near,<br />Think of the things severed by the thought.<br />When you are awake and the sky is clear,<br />Can you help but see the stars?<br />And create your own dreams and fear<br />That you may in time be up close<br />And heal the touch that brings you here?<br />Close your eyes and you will see<br />The bond with them that you cannot severe.<br /></span></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br />When you see the one looking down on you,<br />You know, you must, that the time draws near.<br />When you wait and you wait,<br />But she never seems to appear.<br />Chasing the shadows, chasing the dreams,<br />That you never thought of the one dear.<br />"And when your time has come,<br />You will look back and spare a tear."<br />For the one who knows and one who sees<br />Will always care.</span> </span></div><br /><p></p><p><em>satyajit venkatraman</em></p><p><em>Sometime in 1998</em></p>SVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17907067991349800688noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3335913689699316225.post-72927374894874199982008-09-20T21:01:00.002+08:002009-06-19T22:03:20.706+08:00Tribute to Rick Wright<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span> <table width="226" align="right" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"> <tbody><tr><td> <div> <img src="http://newsimg.bbc.co.uk/media/images/45019000/jpg/_45019946_-36.jpg" alt="Roger Waters, Nick Mason, Syd Barrett and Richard Wright" vspace="0" width="226" border="0" height="170" hspace="0" /> <div class="cap">Gilmour said Wright (right) was "gentle, unassuming and private"</div> </div> </td></tr> </tbody></table> <!-- E IIMA --> <!-- S SF --><p class="first"><b>Pink Floyd guitarist David Gilmour has praised late bandmate Richard Wright for his "vitality, spark and humour".</b> </p><p>Writing on his website, Gilmour said he had "never played with anyone quite like" the keyboardist, who has died from cancer at the age of 65. </p><p>"In my view, all the greatest Pink Floyd moments are the ones where he is in full flow," Gilmour added. </p><p>He hailed Wright for his songwriting talent, including on two tracks from 1973's Dark Side of the Moon album. <!-- E SF --></p><p>Gilmour joined the band in 1968 - a year after the group's first album, The Piper at the Gates of Dawn. </p><p> <!-- S IBOX --> </p><table width="231" align="right" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"> <tbody><tr> <td width="5"><img src="http://newsimg.bbc.co.uk/shared/img/o.gif" alt="" vspace="0" width="5" border="0" height="1" hspace="0" /></td> <td class="sibtbg"> <div> <div class="mva"> <img src="http://newsimg.bbc.co.uk/nol/shared/img/v3/start_quote_rb.gif" alt="" width="24" border="0" height="13" /> <b>In the welter of arguments about who or what was Pink Floyd, Rick's enormous input was frequently forgotten</b> <img src="http://newsimg.bbc.co.uk/nol/shared/img/v3/end_quote_rb.gif" alt="" vspace="0" width="23" align="right" border="0" height="13" /><br /> </div> </div> <div class="mva"> <div>David Gilmour</div> </div> </td> </tr> </tbody></table> <!-- E IBOX --> <p>"No-one can replace Richard Wright - he was my musical partner and my friend," Gilmour said. </p><p>"In the welter of arguments about who or what was Pink Floyd, Rick's enormous input was frequently forgotten. </p><p>"He was gentle, unassuming and private but his soulful voice and playing were vital, magical components of our most recognised Pink Floyd sound." </p><p>Gilmour said the blend of his and Wright's voices, together with their "musical telepathy, reached their first major flowering" on 1971 track Echoes, which took up the whole of the second side of album Meddle. </p><p> <!-- S IIMA --> </p><table width="226" align="right" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"> <tbody><tr><td> <div> <img src="http://newsimg.bbc.co.uk/media/images/45020000/jpg/_45020032_0064a05e-fc81-45a3-a7fa-1870fce740be.jpg" alt="Gilmour, Waters, Mason and Wright in 2005" vspace="0" width="226" border="0" height="170" hspace="0" /> <div class="cap">The band performed together at Live 8 in 2005 for the first time in 24 years</div> </div> </td></tr> </tbody></table> <!-- E IIMA --> <p>Released in 1973, The Dark Side of the Moon went on to become one of the best-selling and most influential albums in rock history. </p><p>Wright helped write much of the album, but was responsible for two songs in particular, Gilmour said. </p><p>He added: "After all, without Us and Them, and The Great Gig in the Sky - both of which he wrote - what would The Dark Side Of The Moon have been?" </p><p>Gilmour has now pulled out of the premiere of a concert film, David Gilmour Live In Gdansk, in London on Tuesday. </p><p>But the guitarist has asked for the event to go ahead without him in memory of Wright, his spokesman said. </p><p>Joe Boyd, who produced the band's early records, said Wright's keyboards were "an integral part of the Pink Floyd sound". </p><p>"He was a very nice and easy going person," he said. "It's very sad to hear of his untimely passing." </p><p><b>'Influential musician'</b> </p><p>Neil Portnow, president of The Recording Academy, which organises the Grammy Awards in the US, added his tribute. </p><p>"Richard Wright was an exceptional instrumentalist, whose distinctive keyboard style was essential to the musicality of this world-renowned band," he said. </p><p>"He also scored films and recorded his own instrumental compositions and solo albums. </p><p>"Our deepest sympathies go out to his family and fans at this difficult time, as we remember this influential musician." </p><p>The group played at the Live 8 event in Hyde Park in London in 2005, when Roger Waters rejoined his bandmates for a one-off, more than two decades after they fell out. </p><p>The four musicians all also played at a tribute concert for Syd Barrett in 2007, with Waters playing a solo set and Wright, Gilmour and Nick Mason making a separate appearance. </p><p>Wright's death was announced in a statement by his spokesman on Monday. </p>The spokesman said Wright died after "a short struggle with cancer" but declined to give further details. <!-- E BO -->SVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17907067991349800688noreply@blogger.com0