...echoes of life

all these years...

2012-01-17T18:42:00.002+01:00

all these years

i told myself i was happy.

i thought i was a good man.

while life always went by

in the blink of an eye.

all these years

i felt i had a good life.

i went around the world.

always on the move

chasing new dreams and making new friends.

and all the while, i was missing

a piece of me that grew a little each day.

and all the while, time just passed by.

but how could i have known?

all these years

i enjoyed the good things

i revelled in pompous comforts

with an attitude that some considered obnoxious

while others thought was unburdened luxury.

all these years

i thought i was free spirited.

i flew over the rooftops and green fields.

fuelled by the drug of freedom

nothing could hurt me at all.

and all the while, i was missing

a piece of me that grew a little each day.

and all the while, time just passed by.

but how could i have known?

all these years

i hear magical music.

voices comfort me with soft whispers

while i asleep,

the serene slumber of happiness.

all these years

i see lucid visions

that take me to enchanted lands

and still i sleep

afloat in a sea of tranquility.

and all the while, i was missing

a piece of me that grew a little each day.

and all the while, time just passed by.

but how could i have known?

(…to be continued…)

- satyajit venkatraman
January 2012

i am...

2011-07-25T15:09:00.001+02:00

i sing my own tunes.
no training or talent to speak of
but i create a thousand songs everyday
inspired masterpieces of art they are not
but everyone loves them.

i dance to my own rhythm.
no stage fright or anxiety perceivable,
i can perform anywhere, at any time.
at times graceful, often amusing
but always entertaining.

i march to my own command.
with no care for rules or orders
but with a determined, almost obsessive, single-minded focus.
always doing what i want, when i want to;
even so, no one complains.

i’m scared of my own shadow.
and everything that moves or is still.
on the other hand, i can be incredibly brave
and do things no one else dares to do
as if there were the simplest tasks.

i walk on my own path.
stumbling, crawling and scrambling,
i move forward as much as in reverse.
never giving up,
until i reach my goal.

i write my own story.
with peerless creativity and imagination;
using any tools and substances i can find.
so advanced are my plots,
they are rarely understood by others.

i speak my own truth.
through hitherto unknown languages and media;
lucid and insightful but never philosophical,
my theories of life and truth
are often not popular or wide-spread.

i live my own life.
away from the all the pervading chaos,
in my own imaginary land.
unaware of the ways of the world and
at peace with myself and all around.

i am a child.

- satyajit venkatraman
21st July 2011

set yourself free

2011-07-15T16:26:00.004+02:00

what happened to the serenity of simple living?
an easy and dignified existence.
sitting by the ocean, watching ripples in the water:
endless, limitless, flowing through our minds with nowhere to go,
the waves had no objective but to be there for us to watch.
we lived our own lives, honest and harmonious;
idyllic fragments in time.
the right to be at peace was not just a law.

where did it come from – that sense of urgency?
the suspicion that all was not as it seemed.
an urge to do more consumed us,
destroying our inherent tranquility.
a deceitful call to wake up and rise above,
lying to us about everything we knew as real.
an invisible force lifting us,
coercing us to break out of our ordinary lives.

have we come too far now?
all we hear are startling echoes of our deeds.
we despair at what we have become.
like scarecrows standing in a field,
we live an endless cycle of night after day,
exhausted from trying to out-run our fate.
why did we leave our blissful lives behind, we reminisce.
must we spend our lives drowned in regret?

where do we go from here?
have we come so far that we don’t remember our past?
but surely, things can be the same again
because we see visions of laughter and contentment.
must our futures be a whirlpool of misery?
or can we save ourselves?
there must be someone out there to help us!
will we have a chance to redeem ourselves?

why must these questions go unanswered?
we can reclaim our lives as our own.
we were peaceful once.
we must refuse to be prisoners in our own hands,
and believe that the future lies in our serene past.
we must set ourselves free.
and find that place again –
where the right to be at peace was not just a law.

- satyajit venkatraman
15th July 2011

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.

what if?

2011-02-24T15:37:00.000+01:00

what if there comes a day
when you stop learning and start forgetting what you’ve learnt?
would you be satisfied that you have spent your life learning
and have something that is yours,
even if to forget?
or saddened at not knowing all there was to learn?

what if there comes a day
when you realize that your dreams may never come true?
would you be sad, knowing that you would never
dream another dream?
or enlightened that they were meant to be dreamt
and the inspiration for everything you achieved?

what if there comes a day
when you finally have to admit that you lack the talent?
to play that awesome riff on your guitar
would you grow your hair, pierce your ears and start a garage band?
or would you enjoy the thrill
of pleasant rhythmic strumming?

what if there comes a day
when you know you’re never going to own that red Ferrari?
would you rue the fact that you were never good enough
to achieve what you had always wanted?
or look back and see
all the wonderful things you’ve seen and enjoyed?

what if there comes a day
when you realize you’re closer to the end than the beginning?
would you have lived your life the way that you wanted to
or in the shadow of another?
would you worry about the long way down?
or savour the moment, poised on the edge of the pinnacle?

- satyajit venkatraman
24th February 2011

i own the night

2010-12-28T10:30:00.000+01:00

Dark's moon rises high
And shuts the sun from the sky.
Ever so soft, ever so inviting;
She pulls me up, towards her
Like a sunflower pulls the Sun.
The big white smile on her face
Is irresistible.
i fly to the sky, drawn by the power
Of the Dark's moon.
i feel my power, i feel my might.
"You can fly, but only if you want to";
She says to me,
"And i can make you fly, only if you want to."
i'm flying, i'm soaring, i own the night.
"No", she says, "i do!"
Too late, i see,
Its just a bait….

- satyajit venkatraman
3rd September 1998

Campaign for…

2010-12-28T10:23:00.002+01:00

Campaign for…
Freedom of speech…for the dumb;
Freedom of movement…for the lame;
Freedom of sight…for the blind;
Freedom of thought…for the mindless;
Freedom of life…for the dead;
Where the mind is without fear…there let terror reign!!!

- satyajit venkatraman
22nd March 1999

SV Notes: sorry Mr. Tagore, no offence meant to your beautiful words...just reflects my state of mind back in those days.

The Battle

2010-12-28T10:18:00.003+01:00

Shades of night
Melt into the shadows,
As the Mist does battle with
The Rising Sun.
The battle for supremacy
Rages on.
First the Sun, then the other;
The misty dew on the trees
Melts under the power
Of the life-giver, the Sun.
Rays of light
Streaking through the misty morning
The Mist slowly dies but
Lives to fight another day.

- satyajit venkatraman
winter 2000 (?)

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.

closet insomniac

2010-11-29T16:23:00.003+01:00

you lie awake at night
pondering all the things that might change your life,
things beyond your control,
things you cannot alter.
you cannot fall asleep, try as you might,
and leave a problem unsolved.

you hear eerie sounds
altering your train of thought.
a door shuts softly,
a wooden floor creaks.
is it a guard on the grounds
or your ears trying to keep up with your imagination?

you see a creepy silhouette
standing in the doorway
moving with uncanny elegance.
suspended in mid-air is it something
hung on the door, maybe a jacket?
or an unearthly intruder trying to steal your thoughts?

sleeping peacefully next to you
perhaps dreaming of a parallel universe,
your ever-faithful soul mate
drifts into rapid eye movement.
as if it’s something totally new
you wonder if you will ever be as tranquil?

today ticks over to yesterday
you wish you could just lay back
and relish the serene moonlight.
yearning for elusive slumber that never comes.
still awake at the first rays of dawn you have to say
there is nothing more you want than those forty winks.

(not based on a true story)

- satyajit venkatraman
29th november 2010

what a pity! (2 sides to every story)

2010-10-15T17:52:00.001+02:00

these poor little rich kids,
just “hanging” at the street corner.
flaunting their fancy watches and designer clothes.
they burn away their souls and waste their talents
and choose to live on their parents’ gifts.

these poor little misguided kids,
tagging along with their more fortunate “friends”
drooling over what they cannot afford
little do they know
they’d be better off on their own.

these poor little rich people,
earning their millions through "grand manoeuvres".
providing for a comfortable future,
only to find that the next generation
wipes it all away and has to start all over again.

these poor little "underprivileged" people,
scrambling to survive through their sweat and tears;
wishing for what their wealthy neighbours have,
they bend their backs and suppress their sorrows.
when they sleep at night, all they think about is tomorrow.

these poor little “third world” countries,
scurrying to please their prosperous counterparts;
vying for their attention and blessing.
if only they knew
they would do so much better if they didn’t care.

these poor little rich countries
rambling on about their "glorious past"
the state supports them all:
the unfortunate and needy to the lazy bourgeois
united, they avalanche their way to a shared gloom.

what a pity: if you think no one cares for their neighbour,
why does everyone care what everyone else thinks of them?
what a pity: if the only way up is round and around
why is everyone so busy “succeeding”?
what a pity: if the world is so full of gloom and worry
why does everyone smile at children playing in the park?

- satyajit venkatraman
15th october 2010

(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!)

words

2010-10-12T17:42:00.004+02:00

Words are the basis of languages
Words are the means through which we communicate
Words arranged in an stimulating fashion make poetry
Words combined with a pleasant tune become music

Words with affection become love
Words make us humans from mere beings
Words are the heart of relationships
Words are symbols of our intelligence

Words with malice become hate
Words can break a man
Words can make a man a monster
Words with an aim to hurt have no meaning

Words: the evolution from infancy to childhood
Words: a song that i hate
Words: the first song i learnt to play
Words: an enigma with the power to change the world

- satyajit venkatraman
june-october 2010

say nothing

2010-07-13T16:22:00.005+02:00

when i was a child, minding my own life,
you made fun of my shape,
you said i was too fat and too meek,
that i couldn’t bend and touch my toes.
still i said nothing.
you took advantage of my docility
and enslaved me as “nature’s freak”,
i broke my back for you to cheat and steal and ravage.
still i said nothing.

when i was a boy, finding my way,
you made fun of my intelligence,
you called me a nerd and a geek,
made me resent my good grades
still i said nothing.
you made fun of my religion,
you said my gods were funny and weak,
questioned my motives, beliefs and philosophy.
still i said nothing.

when i was a young man, increasing in confidence,
you made fun of my lack of direction.
you said i was confused and my future was bleak,
that i would be lost in my own backyard.
still i said nothing.
you made fun of my culture and heritage,
you ignored the niche i was trying to eke,
dismissed me as a slave of my past.
still i said nothing.

now i’m a healthy adult,
you cant make fun of my success
for all the reasons you may seek.
your home falls apart around you.
still i say nothing.
your fortunes have been turned,
this is the end of your winning streak.
all alone, your old friends with troubles of their own.
still i say nothing.

in the future, i will rule the world
with all the others that you tormented.
together we will scale the peak
of the mountain you could never dream of climbing.
and i will still say nothing.
when you have failed on all fronts and lost all hope,
you will want to come by and take a peek
at our success and maybe even join us.
and i will still say nothing.

(as an allegory for India)

- satyajit venkatraman
july, 2010

illusions of reality

2010-06-29T18:39:00.004+02:00

I. disillusion

used to see in colour
but now its only flashes of black and white.
tantalizing sensations
all that i touch burns my fingers.
used to hear you sing to me
but now its only sounds that hurt my ears.
no more sweet languages
only words that make no sense anymore.

built this fortress stone by stone
protection from the evil world.
one by one i left behind
everything that was dear to me.
but now its all gone,
even my decadent mind is not my own now.

II. despair

used to be the lucky one
but now i always draw the shortest straw.
mystifying choices
don’t know which is worse, isolation or remorse.
used to have a magic touch
but now all my spells are voodoo hexes.
my wishes have been granted
and my worst dreams have come true.

built this fortress stone by stone
protection from the evil world.
one by one i left behind
everything that was dear to me.
but now that i want to break free
i’m trapped by my own creation.

III. discovery

is my disillusion and despair real?
or a figment of my infidel mind?
was i trying to escape from my own illusions of reality?
all that colour, those tantalizing sensations;
is that my past, erased forever
or just my suppressed memories?
is everything i once loved waiting out there for me?
should i live in despair or die recovering my desire?

built this fortress stone by stone
and now i’ll break it down.
one by one i will bring together
everything i have left behind.
and now that i want to break free
will my own creation hold me back?

IV. desire

didn’t know how long it would take
or how hard it would be.
didn’t know where the road i had to take would lead
but i had to find my way out of the madness.
somewhere along the way, my illusion turned into an infinite void
and my insanity leaked into the endless ocean of delirium.
now i’m in a vast emptiness surrounded by broken stones
and a whole world of colour and undiscovered sensations.

built this fortress stone by stone
and now i’ll break it down.
one by one i will bring together
everything i have left behind.
and now that i want to break free
i know my own creation wont hold me back.

- satyajit venkatraman
29th june 2010

(inspired by “Black and White World” by Redemption)

the truth

2010-06-21T15:01:00.001+02:00

真

理

not a storm

2010-05-19T18:16:00.002+02:00

not a storm
of swirling waters and churning skies.
swallowing everything it can overtake
and leaving emptiness and sorrow in its wake.

not a fire
fierce and untamed, devouring all things living and dead.
raging without limit, destroying without care
not many can subdue it and if you’re in the way, beware!

just a simple man trying to live life,
to exist without much ado.
just another gloomy optimist,
there’s so many, its nothing new.

not a mountain
rising above the mediocrity.
solid and unwavering against the tumultuous world
plain for all to see, with all its majesty unfurled.

not a bird
flying free and tranquil above it all.
surveying the madness down below
but distant and always mellow.

just a simple man trying to live life,
to exist without much ado.
just another gloomy optimist,
there’s so many, its nothing new.

not a angel
or an agent of a higher power.
protecting the virtues and morals
of people who are mere mortals.

not a hero
fighting wars and saving the world.
finding miracle cures, inventing wondrous machines,
flying stricken planes, simply better than other human beings.

just a simple man trying to live life,
to exist without much ado.
just another gloomy optimist,
there’s so many, its nothing new.

not an art
with magnificent skills inherent.
flair presented with audacity
years of toil and tears resulting in a spectacle of serenity.

not a dream
of infinite possibilities without boundary.
where all is possible in a tranquil state
and the ending is always great.

just a simple man trying to live life,
to exist without much ado.
just another gloomy optimist,
there’s so many, its nothing new.

- satyajit venkatraman
may, 2010

haunted

2010-05-07T14:27:00.002+02:00

haunted by the past;
places you’ve been and things you’ve seen,
people you’ve met, and skeletons in the closet,
emotions you’ve felt and the cards you’ve been dealt.

haunted by memories
good ones, bad ones, with you forever.
things you’ll never forget, alliances that you cannot sever,
nostalgic thoughts and beliefs that you revere.

haunted by the present
who you are, and your desires never too far
fighting to stay afloat, in this world like a sinking boat;
running a race that you never thought you would face.

haunted by friends and by family,
dear ones that cannot see that you have a vision.
distant as it may seem, its not just an illusion,
you’ve set out alone on your mission.

haunted by the future
where do you go from here, miles to go or somewhere near?
will you find your way and keep your detractors at bay?
will you be happy when you die, or was it all just a lie?

haunted by transience of life
what’s it all for? what happens in the end
to dreams and the beliefs that, through your life, you defend?
are you just another man, or a legend?

satyajit venkatraman
may 2010

identity

2010-03-05T15:36:00.004+01:00

i’m a book that cant be read.
created from start to finish
but not written down.
i’m a song that cant be heard
composed note by note
but without a tune to play.

i’m like a bird that cannot fly.
with sturdy wings
but afraid of flying.
i’m like a lion that cannot hunt.
hunger in my stomach
but no strength to run.

i feel like a river that can’t flow.
all the water in the world
but I’ve lost my course.
i’m like a wind that cannot blow.
my force has disappeared
and now i’m just a lot of air.

i feel like a movie that cant be watched.
conceived with characters and every detail
but didn’t get around to the story.
i feel like a game that cant be played.
all the right rules and strategies
but no teams to execute them.

i’m the sun with no light.
the biggest star in the sky
but my fire has been put out.
i’m the moon in the day.
lovely effervescence within me
but no one can see me.

- satyajit venkatraman
march, 2010

…with my head in the sand

2010-02-18T17:32:00.006+01:00

what lies beyond the horizon?
over the seas on the other side;
foreign lands, eclectic people, ancient cultures
but what if for me, the world ends at the shore?
my world ends in my own land,
in familiar territory.

what can be learnt from other people?
from civilizations beyond my own;
new languages, exotic lifestyles, novel experiences
but what if for me, my world is my society?
my world ends in my own neighbourhood
amongst friends and family.

what is the truth about my own land?
in my country, of my people, today.
we ruled the world in ancient times but are feeble now.
but what if for me, the present is in the past?
my world is in my own head
lost in delusional memories.

what is my goal in life?
to learn from my mistakes, and to learn from others;
trial and error, the journey more important than the destination.
but what if for me, life’s purpose to achieve perfection?
flawless people, perfect community, idyllic life,
a utopian existence.

what is the value of diversity?
people of all races, religions and beliefs;
living in harmony, peaceful and tolerant.
but what if for me, all “others” are enemies?
to be suppressed at all costs
leaving me alone in this world with only my kind.

what can be gained from pride?
in myself, my culture, my heritage;
hold my head high, live with dignity.
but what if for me, my ideal is everything foreign?
distant lands, alien cultures, unfamiliar existence
living an empty life.

with my head buried in the sand
there is nothing beyond the horizon
no learning,
reality never prevails.
life is spent in a endless pursuit of the unachievable
the world is one dimensional
in the shadow of my dreams.

- satyajit venkatraman
february, 2010

nowhere road

2010-01-05T16:17:00.005+01:00

outside the window there’s a path,
across the mountain to the other side.
clouds all around swirling in the night,
capturing all in their velvet clutches.
leaf-strewn steps lead ahead
pines, oaks and maples everywhere its green.
a stream gushes from a source unseen
a bed of pebbles like crystal in the water.

the stream becomes a river,
down the rapids and through the falls.
yellow fields – sunflowers dancing in the wind
with no care of life or time.
rich, sweet smells in the air,
chirping birds drown out all other sound.
fertile pastures everywhere around
speak of affluence and prosperity.

nowhere road is going to take me home
with the waves at my feet and spray in my face.
nowhere road is going to take me home
where the grass is green on both sides.
nowhere road is going to take me home
where snowy mountain peaks sparkle like a million soft fragments of pleasure.

the river loses strength, the land becomes dry
and majestic waves of golden sand rise.
dust in the wind and sand in my face
covering everything around in a coat of gold.
the desert is a masquerade for gold, oil
and wealth for all alluring.
dunes shifting and ever changing
revealing richness of life and lessons from ages past.

endless sands fade into shores of a vast sea;
hypnotising rhythm of the surf, the breath of power.
a gentle, sleeping giant
preserving the immense force within.
hidden under the sheen of soothing waves
brilliant walls of vibrant coral, full of life and forever boundless.
deeper still lie dark caves, creatures ancient and timeless
tell a tale of ages past, of freedom, simplicity and trust.

nowhere road is going to take me home
with the waves at my feet and spray in my face.
nowhere road is going to take me home
where the grass is green on both sides.
nowhere road is going to take me home
where snowy mountain peaks sparkle like a million soft fragments of pleasure.

from the depths of the ocean comes a surge
of walls of mountains breaking through the surface,
the water wanes after a brief struggle
content to chip away at the surface for centuries of ascendancy.
majestic they rise above all now for all to admire,
a crest of silvery snow for a crown.
in a panorama of mountain, ocean and pastures overgrown
lies a man entranced in his dream.

nowhere road is going to take me home
with the waves at my feet and spray in my face.
nowhere road is going to take me home
where the grass is green on both sides.
nowhere road is going to take me home
where snowy mountain peaks sparkle like a million soft fragments of pleasure.

satyajit venkatraman
january 2010

...its dark outside

2009-12-22T14:44:00.006+01:00

it’s dark outside; sharp as needles,
the cold invades layers of warm clothes.
soft drops of icy rain and snow fall
gently on sleeping roofs.

footsteps on the pavement
tread gently, exploring and unsure.
as the night’s snow turns to ice
more falls like silk from above.

cold alleys pass by
mesmerizing reflections peek out.
strange lights sparkle at every corner
many colours – red, orange and green.

the occasional sound of tyres on wet surface
tread gently, exploring and unsure.
flashing red once in a while
exploring the line between speed and safety.

the Tower is dim and the parks empty
famous landmarks lie abandoned and vacant.
no tickets on sale now
no people milling around.

now the footsteps are surer
and the stride confident.
fresh, cool breeze in the air.
making good time, but some way to go.

slowly but surely light asserts itself,
rays of sunlight through the dense shroud of clouds.
soon the houses will be empty
and people everywhere.

he must get back to the start
and begin the transformation to the routine.
solitude and peace will soon disappear
and he will blend into the millions.

for a while there was a thrill (or was it a fear?)
of being alone (but in a world of marvels).
no one to share (and no one to please)
but it was just a morning routine.

December 22, 2009
about my morning jog

dream

2009-09-04T18:05:00.007+02:00

there was this guy, just a simple fellow,
enough above and enough below
opened his eyes one morning
and said to himself, while stretching and yawning
“how long have i been asleep?
and are those hours mine to keep?”

he had taken his life where the winds blew
and didn’t realize how fast time flew.
he had not read his life’s text
twenty one day and fifty the next.
“thirty years gone by as one,
how did i miss all the fun?”

as far as he could remember
he was full of life, be it March, July or December.
off to work he would go
eager to give his all and grow.
“you’re a great guy they said,
nothing to stop you from getting ahead.”

day after year of his life went by
he worked, he worked, all he would do was try.
he did what he could and always thought
that he was not the best but better than a lot.
“did that make sense at all?
or was it just to soften the fall?”

stuck in a rut of a life so cluttered
he never rose above to see what really mattered.
it was his strength and also his weakness
that he didn’t see the danger, the depth and the darkness.
“was it so since the beginning?
or, all the while, become more threatening?”

into his life people came and from it people went
he never stopped to ask what it meant.
they know what they want just like i do
part of the plan, like the one for himself he drew.
“is that how i got to where I am today?
weary at night and tired by day.”

all that happens around him he doesn’t understand
strange people with strange habits in a strange land.
a small fish in a big ocean he has become
and he can only hear the constant hum.
“it’s the water, you know
just like me, going where the pipes want it to go.”

it really was only in his mind
the hum of a toy, the kind you could wind.
running along, swift at first but grinding to a halt
just running out of steam but without a fault.
“i am that wind-up toy,
old, plastic, and of no use even to the little boy.”

how long had he been asleep?
and were all those hours his to keep?
twenty, strong and all his life before
he realizes as the alarm drowns his snore.
“although very real it did seem
it was all just a dream!”

now feeling refreshed, he awakes
as above the horizon the sun breaks.
off to work he went forgetting
all about the dream he had and, at the end of the day expecting,
“you’re a great guy”, they said
nothing to stop you from getting ahead.”

running the wrong way

2009-07-22T18:47:00.005+02:00

at two, you learn to run,
and it seems like fun.
when you get going you don’t really know
if you go where you want to go.

at five, you simply run.
when school is done
and you go out to play
all you want to do is let your legs flay.

at fifteen, you run after pleasure
and nothing can measure
up to the joy of discovering
a new thing that’s exciting.

at twenty-five, you run for fun
because you know there is none
that can get you despondent
in your pursuit of merriment.

at thirty-five, you run against time.
every clock that can chime
reminds you that you have to feed
several souls full of greed.

at forty-five, you run to get away
every time the sun greets the day
all you want is to escape
from all the red tape.

at fifty-five, you run to save
so you have to be really brave
to attain the grace
that you promised yourself in the first place.

at sixty-five, you run only if you have to
but you really don’t want to
because you’re tired of the dreary
race to destiny.

at seventy-five, you realize that you’ve been
(and that you really should have seen
much earlier in the day)
that you were running the wrong way.

sv: 21st July 2009

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.

Capitalism

2009-06-17T13:54:00.003+02:00

browsing 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):

TRADITIONAL CAPITALISM
You have two cows.
You sell one and buy a bull.
Your herd multiplies, and the economy grows.
You sell the herd and retire on the income.

AN AMERICAN CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You sell one, and force the other to produce the milk of four cows.
You are surprised when the cow drops dead.

A FRENCH CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You go on strike because you want three cows.

A JAPANESE CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You redesign them so they are one-tenth the size of an ordinary cow and produce twenty times the milk.
You then create irritating cow cartoon images called Cowkimon and market them world-wide at a fantastic profit.

A GERMAN CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You reengineer them so they live for 100 years, eat once a month, and milk themselves.

AN ENGLISH CORPORATION
You have two cows.
Both are mad.

AN ITALIAN CORPORATION
You have two cows, but you don't know where they are.
You break for lunch.

A RUSSIAN CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You count them and learn you have five cows.
You count them again and learn you have 42 cows.
You count them again and learn you have 12 cows.
You stop counting cows and open another bottle of vodka.

A SWISS CORPORATION
You have 5000 cows, none of which belong to you.
You charge others for storing them.

A CHINESE CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You have 300 people milking them.
You claim full employment, high bovine productivity, and arrest the newsman who reported the numbers.

ENRON CAPITALISM
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.
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.

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.

No balance sheet provided with the release.
The public buys your bull.

Addendum from "le kiddo"

INDIAN CORPORATION
Put one cow in the temple, color n coconut it up!!! The other is in the office, training to be an American cow...
But in vain - 'cos then we get a Satyam cow

i am currently crafting Belgian, Spanish and Portuguese versions. any volunteers for an Indian version?

The Time Draws Near…

2009-06-05T11:47:00.007+02:00

When you are lonely and the time draws near,
Think of the things severed by the thought.
When you are awake and the sky is clear,
Can you help but see the stars?
And create your own dreams and fear
That you may in time be up close
And heal the touch that brings you here?
Close your eyes and you will see
The bond with them that you cannot severe.

When you see the one looking down on you,
You know, you must, that the time draws near.
When you wait and you wait,
But she never seems to appear.
Chasing the shadows, chasing the dreams,
That you never thought of the one dear.
"And when your time has come,
You will look back and spare a tear."
For the one who knows and one who sees
Will always care.

satyajit venkatraman

Sometime in 1998

Tribute to Rick Wright

2008-09-20T15:01:00.002+02:00

Gilmour said Wright (right) was "gentle, unassuming and private"

Pink Floyd guitarist David Gilmour has praised late bandmate Richard Wright for his "vitality, spark and humour".

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.

"In my view, all the greatest Pink Floyd moments are the ones where he is in full flow," Gilmour added.

He hailed Wright for his songwriting talent, including on two tracks from 1973's Dark Side of the Moon album.

Gilmour joined the band in 1968 - a year after the group's first album, The Piper at the Gates of Dawn.

In the welter of arguments about who or what was Pink Floyd, Rick's enormous input was frequently forgotten

David Gilmour

"No-one can replace Richard Wright - he was my musical partner and my friend," Gilmour said.

"In the welter of arguments about who or what was Pink Floyd, Rick's enormous input was frequently forgotten.

"He was gentle, unassuming and private but his soulful voice and playing were vital, magical components of our most recognised Pink Floyd sound."

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.

The band performed together at Live 8 in 2005 for the first time in 24 years

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.

Wright helped write much of the album, but was responsible for two songs in particular, Gilmour said.

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?"

Gilmour has now pulled out of the premiere of a concert film, David Gilmour Live In Gdansk, in London on Tuesday.

But the guitarist has asked for the event to go ahead without him in memory of Wright, his spokesman said.

Joe Boyd, who produced the band's early records, said Wright's keyboards were "an integral part of the Pink Floyd sound".

"He was a very nice and easy going person," he said. "It's very sad to hear of his untimely passing."

'Influential musician'

Neil Portnow, president of The Recording Academy, which organises the Grammy Awards in the US, added his tribute.

"Richard Wright was an exceptional instrumentalist, whose distinctive keyboard style was essential to the musicality of this world-renowned band," he said.

"He also scored films and recorded his own instrumental compositions and solo albums.

"Our deepest sympathies go out to his family and fans at this difficult time, as we remember this influential musician."

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.

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.

Wright's death was announced in a statement by his spokesman on Monday.

The spokesman said Wright died after "a short struggle with cancer" but declined to give further details.

2008-06-29T14:07:00.008+02:00

i got tagged by Holy Ash who in turn was tagged by someone who goes by the the intriguing pseudonym ctrl.altered.mind...

the interesting fact is, like holy ash, i had no idea that the term "meme" actually referred to something...presumed it was just one of those funny words that some blogger made up!

but in fact, according to the daily meme, a meme is:

An idea that, like a gene, can replicate and evolve

A unit of cultural information that represents a basic idea that can be transferred from one individual to another, and subjected to mutation, crossover and adaptation

A cultural unit (an idea or value or pattern of behavior) that is passed from one generation to another by non-genetic means (as by imitation); "memes are the cultural counterpart of genes"

before i get to the interesting piece about my unspectacular quirks, here are the rules of this particular "games":
- link the person who tagged you.
- mention the rules in your blog.
- describe 6 unspectacular quirks of yours.
- tag 6 following bloggers by linking them.
- leave a comment on each of the tagged blogger’s blogs to inform them of having tagged them.

ok, now that i've got that out of the way...

- the notes in my wallet are arranged in order of denomination, largest on the outside to smallest on the inside. very irritating when i hand it to j and she gives it back with everything just stuffed in (she's noticed this and got better at arranging it the way i like it of late)

- i like to park my car with the wheels slightly skewed (turned out towards the road). i didn't realize this myself till j and one of her friends pointed in out some years back

- i use the mouse (not the touch pad, the extra one) with my left hand but the pointers and buttons are default (for normal right-hand use). people get very confused when they try my laptop or watch me working!

- i don't like sitting facing a wall or corner (in restaurants etc.), i always like having the wall at my back. i even ask folks to get up/ swap places with me if i get in last...

- i always prefer to sit facing forwards in a train, don't like the seats facing against the direction its moving. if i get stuck in a "backwards" seat, i'm always fidgety.

- i like my specs to be spotless, so i end up cleaning them all the time. i know this really irritates some folks at work, esp. when i keep on at it - you know when there's this small spec of something that i can never get off and i keep going at it

hmmm...now its all out in the open...promise not to take advantage!

so, everyone, i don't know 6 people who blog and haven't done this post already, so i'm not tagging anyone else...thank god, you say?

"underground" music

2008-06-24T14:11:00.007+02:00

through a drab, touristy day in London, this guy provided an uplifting highlight!

imagine if:

you didn't get a guaranteed salary every month

you didn't have enough money to have a bank account

you had to perform all day in a dark corner of a london tube station to earn a sandwich at the end of the day

and if this is what we call the "developed world", imagine the millions back home in India and everything they need to do.

through last week, there's been a major uproar in the UK about children "as young as 10" working on clothes sold by Primark and how this was "exploitation" and how they should be at school instead.

who's going to pay for their education?
who's going to pay to feed them every day?
who's going to provide the shelter in the summer, monsoon and winter (well, all through the year, actually!) etc.

after all this bleak stuff, why was this guitar guy a highlight? because he had a smile on his face, he enjoyed what he was doing, and he hailed me with a "cheers, mate!" when i was done filming him and dropped a few pence into his box...

cheers!

wysiwyg

2008-01-21T16:59:00.000+01:00

You Make a Great First Impression

You can handle almost any social situation with grace, even the tricky ones.
Strangers often find you charming and interesting. You are often remembered fondly.
Even if you're not naturally outgoing, you can make conversation with anyone if you need to.

Whether you were born this way or had to work to get here, you are definitely charismatic.
You're popular and well liked. People definitely look forward to being around you.
Your social connections bring you a full and rich life. You understand how important it is to make a lasting impression.

What Kind of First Impression Do You Make?

god bless Pink Floyd!

2007-12-31T07:00:00.000+01:00

this is one of the most profound pieces of writing i've experienced and its even more amazing since its so simple....god bless Pink Floyd!

Time
(Mason, Waters, Wright, Gilmour) 7:06

Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way.
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way.

Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain.
You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today.
And then one day you find ten years have got behind you.
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun.

So you run and you run to catch up with the sun but it's sinking
Racing around to come up behind you again.
The sun is the same in a relative way but you're older,
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death.

Every year is getting shorter never seem to find the time.
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way
The time is gone, the song is over,
Thought I'd something more to say.

10 years

2007-12-30T17:49:00.000+01:00

as 2007 draws to a close, i found myself meandering mentally during our drive home from somewhere this evening. what can happen in ten years? well, i told myself, history repeats itself, so whats happened in the last 10 years....?

1997:
i was 10 years younger (!!!???) and had just become a legal adult (strangely, i earned the right to vote 3 years before that). i also left the shores of my homeland for the first time, flying all the way across the world to the fascinating new world that i'd heard of (and had an overdose of on tv) to see sis and kid (only one around then) in uber-grand US of A. in those days, i was still under the "quit india movement" influence of the 90s and dreamt of studying (an MBA, perhaps?) at kellog or wharton before getting a $$$-job. actually, its more like i assumed thats what i'd end up doing 'coz it was the rule of the day! while not fooling around the countryside in the US, i was sweating it out working with Dad trying to get the new factory financed. every day was a grind, running from pillar to post at several banks and govt offices with a beggar's bowl worth of application forms and suchlike. i had a 110-cc suzuki shogun, the most powerful bike i'd ever ridden and which was 1 of my 2 prized possessions competing with my Sony FH B1000 music system; Dad had bought me both of these things when i was in college. besides money for petrol, i earned a measly 1K a month, which dad mostly forgot about until i sheepishly asked him every month. i had just appeared for my CA inter exams for the first time (which i eventually and inevitably failed). i was notoriously introverted and anti-social, mingling with a select few who, if i may add, were probably the few who understood me. back in those days, everyone in the room would stop speaking and look at me if i spoke like it was a rare, historic event! my "curfew" was a pathetic 10 PM and that was only if i was at a identifiable and trust-worthy friend's place! i could list all the people i knew on a piece of paper (including passing acquaintances). unknowingly, innocently and uncontrollably, i was hurtling into what i still believe was the worst period of my life...
yup, my life back then was fascinating! everyone who was 30-plus kept insisting that those were the best years of my life and i would know why when i reached their age - did i miss the plot, anyone?

2007:
i'm older, wiser (?), infinitely more "successful". i think my salary has multiplied some 200 times (give or take) over the last 10 years. i have a fancy designation and a job that i enjoy thoroughly and i have a good feeling about whats to come. after my first trip to the US of A, i've gone back a couple of times on work besides having visited the UK (worked there for several months), France, Italy, Thailand, Singapore and several more exotic places back home - i think i'm reasonably "well-traveled", what say? i was cured of the $$$-infection by a medicine that works on anyone, at anytime and for any disease - maturity. not to say i don't want to go or work abroad, its just not the only (or the best) option any longer. as i always say, the best balance is an india-based job requiring frequent foreign travel - the best of both worlds. i have several prized possessions now - our new home in pune, my ford ikon, my stephen king collection, my cd collection, my nikon coolpix 8700; all of which, i'm proud to say, i bought myself (not counting J's invaluable contribution which is counted as my own). i got through the deep, dark tunnel of my ca days (see older post). nowadays i'm only a closet introvert (??!!) 'coz my work alter-ego is a garrulous and chatty no-nonsense fellow who can converse with almost anyone he bumps into at the coffee machine. i have no curfew except the dirty looks that J attacks me with if i get home past midnight from one of my office engagements (especially if i've told her that i'd be back before 11!). i cherish the greys in my hair and my beard (though J is quite perturbed by the increasing numbers). today, i can't name all my friends - on orkut/ facebook, the ones that are on my cell phone or my old, tattered address books, the ones somewhere lost in the corners of my mind (i'm sure they all wish me well, god bless you all).
i feel good about myself and believe that my life will get progressively better as i grow older. why do all those 30-plus people dwell on the past? very few people i know tell me that the best time in their lives is now - i've heard school days, college days, teenage years, 20s and all sorts of other combinations and things in-between...i love my life today!

Pale Grey Sky

2007-08-27T14:48:00.003+02:00

And even as I watched

The grey sky turned to blue;

And from the shell of sky

Came a sight so sweet - light of day.

Why could this have not been

A moment or year ago?

Why now?

When everything faded, jaded and paled

Has disappeared into nothingness?

And even as I watched

The Mist fought with the Sun

For control, for supremacy,

First one, then the other, gains control

But for a moment.

Then with a swoop of finality,

The mist wrests control.

And as if to say “I didn’t have a chance anyway”,

The Sun disappears.

As I wander in the mist all alone I wonder -

Am I the last one left alive?

Am I the only one to survive?

But when I look up to the sky I see

Its just begun.

There’s a long, long way to go.

Where is the end?

No one knows...

satyajit venkatraman

September 24, 1998

the flight of the rat

2007-08-11T11:06:00.003+02:00

Out of the corner of his eye
The rat sees the piece of Cheddar.
His mouth drips, his tongue drools;
“Dinner”, he thinks;
His eyes light up at the prospect.
He surveys the scene –
All’s quite well,
No one in sight, no one in sound.
He creeps towards his feast,
Cautious, trembling, nervous, anxious.
“When was the last time?” he thinks.
Starving, raving mad with hunger, he cannot remember –
His last meal.
He pauses, starts crying – self-pity.
It occurs in his mind that his last meal
(for it to be called so would be a disgrace to the word)
Was the last devil’s moon,
Several eons past since then –
Time for a rat is quite different.
Snaps back, panics, looks around
Terrified that he might have reminisced his feast away.
“Slow down” he yells at his heart, “it’s okay”
How wrong,
Over the Cheddar, unnoticed, is a dark guillotine –
A hook, a trap, call it what you may.
The rat inches forward, not at the speed of light.
“This is it” the thought flashing through his miserable brain.
Then, he snaps, warning lights flash.
“So close, yet so far…” his miserable brain again.
He turns around and flees, too scared to think of the cheese.
“Something’s wrong, something’s wrong…”
Under cover, at last, he looks back;
What was it that scared him away?
He surveys the scene – all’s quite well -
No one in sight, no one in sound.
So begins his next mission to annex the feast.
“History repeats itself…” he thinks
After performing an encore.
“Damn my damn mind” – after another
And the show will go on...

satyajit venkatraman
September 3, 1998

Bengaluru blues...

2007-07-29T10:12:00.000+02:00

i’m a true-blue bangalore boy. i spent 25 of my best years in Bangalore. i speak kannada far better than my native tamil. i still call it my hometown. but my childhood memories have been obliterated!

visiting my parents briefly in bangalore this week, the startling truth dawned on me - my childhood had been rudely taken away and turned into an overflowing gutter with scores of people moving mindlessly about in the mayhem. i can no longer have a childhood deja vu and have nothing to be nostalgic about. the flip side of having grown up in bangalore in the 80s and 90s is that its morphed into this despicable new avatar called bengaluru.

when i was 5: our first house in bangalore was at the intersection of infantry road and main guard cross road with a palatial bungalow with a beautiful garden on the corner, and nothing else from there till the shops on commercial street. and i still remember flying my toy plane on brigade parade grounds.
the palatial bungalow has long since given way to an ugly mall called safina plaza, a perennial traffic jam outside (like the rest of bengaluru, right?), the parade grounds are off-limits for the “public”, and it would take you an hour to cross cubbon road to get there anyway.

when i was 10: walking to the bus stop near in 6^th block koramangala early in the morning, i remember the thick fog in which i would not be able to see my hand if i stretched it out in front of me. in the evenings, we would ride like daredevils on our bicycles all the way to the marsh separating koramangala from the airport.
the same stretch is still enveloped by fog – just a different kind that’s rich in cardon-dioxide. the marsh is now a maze of glass-fronted complexes of miscellaneous shops and offices (how the hell did they build them on a marsh?). there’s a string of “hip” restaurants, bars and such-like all over with misguided youngsters in them feeling like they’re part of the “new generation X”.

when i was 15: at this time, we were staying in a piece of paradise called convent road – in the heart of town, walking distance from the “commercial hub”, and my school (Bishop Cottons on St. Marks road), surrounded by woods on several private properties and school grounds all around. from my bedroom window i could see fascinating eagles, kites, parrots and miriad exotic creatures go about their business.
no more woods, only more glass-fronted corporate offices. no more birds, unless you count the scavenging crows.

when i was 20: we moved to a new, desolate “layout” intriguingly called btm. (the best interpretation of that name was that it lay between the villages of bannerghatta, thavarekere and madivala). disconnected from civilization as we knew it, with its own private lake, it took us back to the koramangala-like environment that we thought had gone forever.
enter the ring road, exit peace and quiet. the same story all over again, i’m too depressed to go into the details of this one except that my old pal ravi and his “bakery” selling bananas, chai, cigarettes, veg. puffs, “dilpasand”, groceries and anything else you may have ever needed, has warped into a swanky atm.

when i was 25: btm part II – we moved even further away, down bannerghatta road to a group of 3 towering buildings that was L&T south city in the back of beyond. veritably on the edge of town, the only sight to see was lightning striking over hills on the horizon.
south city now has 15 20-floor towers, houses 1200+ families that own 2000+ cars. i’ll leave the rest to your imagination.

this story doesn’t end where i make my exit in 2006. in fact, namma bengaluru seems to be hurtling determinedly forward on a horrifying suicide mission. i can only hope i don’t live long enough to witness the end. a laid back, lovely city once called the “garden city” is now proud to has institutionalized the term “bangalored”. yes, these are incredible achievements…and i’ve ridden the wave of relentless economic pursuit, i’m rather ashamed to admit.

that is bengaluru for you…and there's no one to blame but me – the quintessential bangalore boy.

is this my soul?

2007-07-06T08:22:00.000+02:00

is this my soul? no, dont think so...

can i write about how i met my wife? what we spoke about on our first "date"? my feelings and emotions when we decided to "go for it"? not likely - a man can change, but this me doesn't think i can write about stuff like that.

why? i speak about this stuff to my friends...so why not on blog? my only answer is that the human mind is weird...

you, my revered reader (assuming someone actually reads this), will know very well....

for me, this is something i do when i'm bored. thats why some of this stuff is "piecemeal" - you know what they say about an idle mind...not that its the devil's workshop but the more common sense fact that its mostly "stream of consciousness"...

i write about my friend Kaspar, CA days, then someone tags me, and then, this nonsense...no wonder i dont have a fan following!!!

shit! i been "tagged"

2007-06-30T08:24:00.001+02:00

shit! i been "tagged"...what m i sposed to do????
.........................
.........................
.........................
.........................
.........................

ok, checked it out on wikipedia...apparently, im sposed to expose 8 random facts/ habits 'bout mself - wy wud ny one wan to no stuff lik dat? this e-world has gone mad, or was it always like this? doesn't matter, a man's gotta do what he's gotta do..

8 - Stevie King maniac - i've read "The Dark Tower" books (all the 4000+ pages) at least 5 times
7 - rock, hard rock, progressive rock, symphonic rock, sympho-porgressive rock, metal, heavy metal, progressive metal, symphonic metal...i could go on but i think you get the picture?
6 - closet introvert - if you meet me, you'll never guess how quiet i am when i'm alone
5 - formula 1 freak - thats the only time of the week that i'm obsessed with the television, vent my anger on the electricity suppliers, cable operators, the rain gods, the bloody government, the estate agent who showed us this house and even my wife if something goes wrong and interrupts my viewing
4 - sucker for dimples - just ask my wife ;)
3 - naive and arrogant - a heady mix
2 - travelaholic - the thrill of a new country or a place you've never been or have been before and love, is a terrific adrenaline rush
1 - nature buff - i'd choose to sit and watch the mist spar with the mountains, or the waves fight the shore all day than most other things;

i'm a stranger in a strange e-land,
all alone wihout a friend to hold my hand,
nor to tag, but thats the law of the sand
(sorry, couldn't think of anything else that rhymes!)
so, this is the end, my friend,
see you soon on the other side of the moon.

Days of Thunder (and lightning, tornados, cyclones)

2007-04-10T09:02:00.000+02:00

since i've started this blog thingy rather late in life, i'm gonna have to re-create my past. and the first phase of my life that i want to "re-create"(certainly not re-live) are my CA days (the thunder, lightning etc. etc....)

i'm a survivor. i survived all that the ICAI (the institute that runs the "show"), my teachers, instructors, examiners, paper-setters, fee-collectors and fellow "students" threw at me.... i survived!!

most parts are stowed away in some obscure corner of my memory and that place to too dark and dangerous to enter...but i must because some of it was

good:
- i've learnt so much about how to face adversity
- some (most? all?) of my best friends are from my CA days
- i've got more work experience than most of my (non-CA) peers since i started working full-time at 18
- i've learnt how to work 16-17 hours a day - yes, it is a good thing (to learn how to)
- its added the letters to my name that really matter (ACA)

bad:
- i had to survive it!
- i missed all of most of my college years since i started working full-time at 18!
- i had to work 16-17 hours a day - no, its not a good thing (to actually have to do)

ugly:
- 8 years! i started in earnest almost 4 years later than i should have

now, i'm just another simpleton - a struggling, working class tambram (more on that last word later...) struggling to make ends meet. having dedication, loyalty, and blood, sweat and tears as your only real competencies can be tough but i seem to have got away with it so far!

the show must go on...

The Big Bang Theory

2007-03-29T10:46:00.000+02:00

got your attention with the title?

gotcha! this blog has nothing to do with astronomy or science. on the contrary, "the big bang" refers to my entry into the world of "nothing's private any more"... (what hype?)!

the seeds for these "echoes" were sown on the day of the loss of a family member - my German Shepherd brother Kaspar. Kaspar was my buddy through the toughest years of my life when i was struggling through my CA days (years?) and he's surely made his mark on my world (quite a few of them on my hands!).

Kappy, if you are in another life and can read (english), then this one's for you, buddy!