Category: personal

I have had some long cycling trips using racing bikes. When you travel on highways and want to save time you have to take racing bikes. They are very light which means your efforts are being used to propel you not your bike. But on the other hand the riding position is such that you have to bend at an angle of almost 90 degrees. And to keep an eye on the traffic you have to further keep your head up, which means another 90 degrees bend. After a long ride the part of body which hurts most are not the legs but the back and neck. So all in all long rides are a pain in the ass. Which brings us to the seat. I have not a found a single well designed seat which optimizes between comfort and support. Either it is too hard or it is too soft not providing enough support.

The other type of bikes are primarily those with wide tyres and a very strong steel frame generally called mountain bikes. They are good for small rides but they are very heavy.

Bigha Bike

So when I found this company called Bigha which has come out with an extremely well designed bike. For starters it has its pedals in the front. This gives the rider a posture similar to that of cruiser motorbikes. The seats are situated nearer to ground which lowers the centre of gravity. It also has a backrest. And its seats are gel filled with adjustable hardness. Many other things can also be adjusted like the seat height and its distance from the handle. And as good things do not come cheap, this starts at $3400 but if I had that much to spare I would have definitely gone for it.

With all the inspiration doled out by our media, i just had to do it. See the tshirt i have designed.

Well the members of this site are mostly americans, dont know if this phenomenon is as hot there.

Have read enough stories of people auctioning varied things like their virginity, to sparing the life of their rabbit for $50,000. Found out that people here have caught on. Stumbled upon this bid on ebay (former bazee) where a guy wants to auction his friends first name. You can read it here
Its most probably a joke, but in a country where people desperately sell their kidneys there will be more of these and not all of them will be jokes.

Please read the previous entry for context.

And all that has set me thinking. let me describe the possible situation. Two people come together … stay together for a while and become friends. Now its highly unlikely that the friendliness quotient (of how good one considers someone a friend) for both regarding each other is the exact same. And what are the implications. That more often than not,no two people can be equally friendly to each other.

Well i am assuming there is a thing like the friendliness quotient, based upon my personal experience that though we know a lot of people but we could grade them according to the intimacy/caring/etc/etc we share or have with them.

Revisiting the conclusion (that most often than no two people can be exact equally friendly to each other), i would like to see whether this has any major effect in our relationships. Well i am extending the friends funda to other relations as well. At least where both the subjects are on an equal footing, like friends, lovers, etc

One case in which i have recently seen this happen is when one of them thinks the other as his best friend but the other end has somebody else. So when it comes to a showdown between them, who is the one to blame. These are not deals which we peruse carefully and then sign. These things just happen and even we do not put tangible names/words/etc to them. Is it fare to not reciprocate with the same warmth to somebody?

My personal view is feelings like love, affection, respect etc should not be demanded but earned slowly. And though our hearts are week, we should not expect the same love, affection or respect in return, or then it would turn into something like a grocery deal at the mall. The word which comes to mind is unconditional.

It was my hostels validictory functiin today, well yesterday but since we were drinking all night long I dont know the difference. I have passed out of my institute last year itself, but i have so many loving juniors whom i consider my brothers i just had to be with them.
You have to witness one to know whats it like. peolple get drunk like hell and then its a total cathartic experience …..people who habe small grudges from long ago actually come out in the open …..there nothing in our hearts which 5-=6 pegs of romanov and signature whisky doesnt do….who says alcohol is bad ….its such a cathartic agent as not even been discovered by greek bloody philosophers….. i give you my theory make a whole group of people drunk together and all there misunderstandings and etc etc …will get sorted out blooody hell …..
well then with that pearls of wisdomness i am signing off to the mess hall to get aloo parathas with sweet curd. Sweet bhagvaan have mercy on us souls with a weak heart,we cannot endure so much emotions witihin one day.

Just finished reading Victor Hugo’s, ‘Les Miserables'(eng translation). And like most of them, found the book better than the movie. It has such profound truths in it …i found one which sort of shook me…
“Nothing is more dangerous than discontinued labor; it is habit lost. A habit easy to abandon, difficult to resume.”

So true.

Came across Rabbi Shergill’s , “Bulla ki jaana mein kaun”, with the result that the hair on my neck refuses to settle down. The video has english translation, which goes as :

Says Bulla, who knows who I am!

I am not in the mosque of the believer,
Nor in false rites.
I am not in the pure or the impure.
Neither Moses nor Pharaoh.
Says Bulla, who knows who I am!

I am not in the vedas or holy books,
Not in drug or wine.
Not in the drunkards wasted intoxication,
Not in wakefulness or sleep.
Says Bulla, who knows who I am!

I am not in sorrow nor in joy,
Neither in clean nor unclean.
I am not water, I am not earth,
I am not fire, I am not air.
Says Bulla, who knows who I am!

I am not from Arabia or Lahore,
Nor from India or Nagaur.
Neither a hindu or muslim from Peshawar,
Nor do I live in Nadaun.
Says Bulla, who knows who I am!

I cannot be unearthed in the mysteries of religion.
I was not born of Adam and Eve.
I am not the name I assume.
I am not in stillness, not in movement.

Finally, I only know myself.
I cannot know any other.
Who could be wiser than I?
Bulla asks, who then, stands here?
Says Bulla, who knows who I am!

This song is supposed to have been sung by Bulleh Shah in his moment of realization. The album is supposed to come in march.

God created all creatures equal (or so i believe). But when man became the self proclaimed master and enslaved other animals, God was saddened. So he decided to create an animal which would be epitome of freedom. And he created the horse. He had dreams for this noble animal, in which he imagined it galloping in meadows.

But man’s evolved brain got the better of god and we had the races.

and after having lived in mumbai for 5 years, and having never seen the races, i was this (-) close to drown in a pint of water. but as i value my life that much I decided to grace yesterdays race at the Mahalaxmi race course yesterday.

Some key points which i learnt :-

1)the place is like a stock exchange where people can bet on races being held in other places like Hyderabad and kolkata, in real time. So a l;ot of people only sit around in front of monitors showing odds of faraway horses.

2)There are things in which other people have so much interest that one cannot imagine. There were couples of 70-80 age group poring over the racing book and betting.

3)I think i have a gambler hiding inside somewhere whose attempts of betting where thwarted successfully by me. But i do not want another duel with him.

One of my friends at work has a fascination for the color blue and has so many anecdotes connected to it.

Once on a railway station somewhere in U.P, his father had a really hard time when he put his foot down saying that he would go only on the blue train, which was incidentally going in the opposite direction.

God plz have mercy on the fathers.

If you alight at Dadar station and exit through the west side, then walk parallel to the highway towards Matunga, through the mish-mashy salad on the ground, leftovers of the morning wholesale sabzi bazaar, then you will pass beneath the iron bridge.

Much tear has flowed under this bridge. Handkerchiefs come out of their solitudes from pockets and purses to protect the pollution weakened lungs’ of their masters and mistresses. This is the adda of the green chilli wholesellers.

They sit behind the mounds of green.

The lord of the tear drops.