the overdue song?

I've been thinking,

way too hard,

and i've been a wanderin'

way too far.

Searching the heavens,

for magical words

and a tune to sail my,

ship of thoughts.

I've been cooking now,

this stew of life

And for a while now,

its been piping hot.

and I've been wondering,

If it really is,

So damn hard to,

get this right.

oh wont something just pass me by,

good enough to make my guitar cry,

or wont somebody help me along,

and help me write my overdue song.

I've tried so many,

so many times,

But it always seems to,

evade my mind.

It no good to eat a

half baked cake,

and no good to sing my,

undone song.

But even as i say this,

I start to wonder,

I start re thinking,

over and over.

Have i just proven,

myself wrong?

Have i just written,

my over due song?

oh wont something just pass me by,

good enough to make my guitar cry,

or wont somebody help me along,

and help me write my overdue song.

because.....

probability exam in 2 hours. hope i get my expectations right.....

Raindrops fallin' on my head..

Black clouds rolled in, driven by the chilly mountain breeze. Everything around grew a few shades darker. Like a well rehearsed snippet straight off the stages on Broadway, the trees swayed to the music of nature. Just a moment before, the city stood, stark and noisy, in all its materialistic splendor, only to be washed anew now. Bathed in the dusky evening light, LA transformed. Silence seemed to be the mantra for the moment; but only, for a moment.

Pitter patter, sound of laughter,
The earth soaks in cold water.

Its raining in LA :-)

about me:

mediocrity rules my life.....

Coding woes!

I've been sitting all day long staring at the computer screen. Coding seems to keep me awake better than caffeine. Racking my brains and jabbing at the keyboard, has pretty much been the mantra for more than 12 hours now. I have a feeling I'll be doing this for the rest of the week. For loops and printf's are as much a part of my life now as are cooking and cleaning the house - dont really love it, but dare not hate it. 

I clearly remember Mr. Swamy from school - with his scantily vegetated head, onto which the tubelight descended, ever so flawlessly. "Its all about logic" he used to say, punctuating it with a trademark chuckle of his. Of the little in C++ that he tried teaching us, very little made its way into my head. Not surprisingly, very little of the 100 marks allotted, made its way into my marks card. 

Hmm.. that was a long time ago. I have made my peace with Mr. Swamy, for the things that he failed to teach and for the ones that I failed to underdstand. Somehow in the 7 years between then and now, the hostility towards coding has softened to a great extent. I'll pray that sometime in the future, I will actually enjoy doing this.

But, for now, the saga of the inevitable code continues. Hopefully I'll get the output within the next hour. Its time to face my demons, again - Its time to code, yet again.       

Somewhere, in the Cycle of Life.

If there was a word that would describe my first one and a half months here, it would indeed be - Phew!

Yes, I've been out of breath, and have been giving my brain cells a lot of work lately. The former, I've been through in the last 4 years plenty of times, the latter - well let me just say I'm highly surprised that I still have my gray matter up there, after 4 years of mis/dis - use.

Coming back to my time here in LA, its been a learning experience, in several ways. I realised that I can be responsible, without really having to make a conscious effort. I realised that I can cook, (and people do eat the stuff I cook), without having to pore over webpages for recipes and I realised that I can keep my room clean, without my mom having to tell me everyday! The last one is a revelation of sorts - and I'm sure my mom will have a grin with " unbelievable " written all over it, once she reads this one.

But all this is not even remotely as important as what I'm about to assert now. Here goes - On a bright monday morning, in LA, somewhere within the 150 acres of USC, if u see an Indian strolling around, with a blue bag, and a black T- shirt, with a " this was not my idea of cost cutting " - look on his face, and riding a pink coloured cycle , complete with a basket to adorn its ridiculous existence, and with a sticker reading 'Silver Canyon - Magna" on it, well, please stop by and say Hello, - U're hello would then, unfortunately be directed at ME!

Yes, I OWN a PINK COLOURED CYCLE, which I would'nt even let Varsha buy, Back in Bangalore!! Well, circumstances change, and people have to go with the flow. And on popular demand, I unleash the first and last snap ever to be taken, of my "luxurious agent of displacement" (calling it anything other that that would be injustice, criminal even)! Voila! Feast your eyes....


Alright! If U have got back on your feet after a hearty laugh, I'd like to say this in conclusion - "Desperate times call for desperate measures" and " It takes a man to ride a pink bicycle among the chicks in LA". I rest my case.

PS: If anyone was wondering as to how much it cost me to become the proud owner of this timeless beauty - 10 dbc's/200 lime juices, one full sleep-less night on the streets of USC and the lifelong right to tease abhay with respect to chromatic issues.

So, it Begins.

I jolt awake to the sound of a car - door being closed. Its dark outside. The street light outside the window hurls spears of harsh, orange light at my eyes, as I grope about, for my watch. I switch on the green backlight of the Casio and peer into the dial, which shows 2:47. I realise I havent openend my eyes fully, but that surprisingly, does not keep me from visualising my room clearly; far too clearly for it to be true I feel. Slowly, the image of my cozy room with my guitars, and my dear old desktop and Varsha's bed at the other side, starts fading out of focus. The remnants of the image wash out completely and is replaced by a realization, rather than a vision. A tussle between the sub - conscious and the conscious follows, and it dawns upon me finally.

I'm in Los Angeles. The curtained windows of my room and everything else in it, is a distant dream. I've just jumped the atlantic, in search of knowledge. No.488, 11th cross, 8th main, JP nagar, is 9000 miles away. And I am an MS away from home.