Back to Bombay...

Back to Bombay after three months of being away (I like Bombay better than Mumbai). I thought it would feel better. It didnt. The mosit humidity stung my senses harder than the burning desert heat I had left behind. It was dark and it was wet when I landed. The check-in luggage had not come in. My bags were still in Paris, and I was forced to leave the airport with a bitter taste of some strange insecurity still tingling on my toungue.

The rickshaw ride back home was the ride that made reality sink into my surreal perception of life. I was back in India now. The muck and the dirty roads, the drivers who would drive like barbarians, the slums, open garbage cans, all seemed to shoot into my eyes like the afternoon sunlight, and my eyes defenceless, with transparent eyelids.

I hadnt told anyone at home that I would be touching base, and Sheril, my real close buddy received me at the airport. The surprise that I gave my family in the wee hours of 29th July, will be etched in my memories, like sea of tranquility on the face of the moon. And my suprise at my perception and re-acceptance of the city of my birth would be right beside it. Now that I am getting back into the groove, life feels much better. Yes, ... much better.

The Little Bullet

Little child on the wall,
you are the fairest of them all.
Only if you tell the world,
how the little bullet,hurts inside.

Little man, tempestous soul.
singing a song, a song untold.
Only if you tell the world,
how the little bullet stole your voice.

Little Mother, So happy you seem,
Your eyes with tears, like pearls they gleam,
Only if you tell the world,
How the little bullet, made your son scream.

Little soldier, ascertained and brave,
Faster than time, creating graves.
Only if you tell the world,
How the little bullet, in your gun would rave.

Little bullet, so tiny so small,
You are the ruler of them all.
Only if you tell the world,
How the taste of someones death felt.

...Of War,Love and God.

Faceless men,
away from home.
Leave behind,
Raging storms.
Broken hearts,
Salt-less tears.
Fearless souls,
Stricken with Fear.

Letters of Love,
Love for letters.
Warriors hope,
for the better.
Isolated tranquility,
Sorrow at home.
Heavy hearts,
in wildernesses roam.

Rain of lead,
lead by rain.
Blood and water,
Sweat and pain.
Moist eyes,
Stare at space.
Haggard eyes,
terrified face.

A walk in hell,
without him.
A vestigial bullet,
without skin.
Death and noise,
piercing the air.
acuate melancholy,
lighten her hair.

Her pale Paleness,
Fades in slow,
Growing hunger,
stops to grow.
He slowly Fades,
Paleness out,
and swings his arms,
in a bloody bout.

Sore eyes,
wiping tears.
bloody hearts,
fighting fears.
Deep woods,
shallow mines.
Church bells fire,
as Bofors chime.

White robed leader,
selfish swine.
Slaughters a thousand,
for a dime.
Anguish in hades,
awaits him so.
A lake of cold fire,
A field of hot snow.

Innocent mother,
Shot down dead.
A Brutal Son,
not mine 'He said'.
Someone’s love,
torn to shreds.
Cause killing is,
someone’s bread.

No war can cry,
the cry of love.
Strife and hatred,
cry wars aloud.
Has man gone blind,
that he kills his brother?
Has money grown bigger,
Than ones own mother?

A wake up call,
God gives us now.
Deaf ears to this,
would be taught, to prove...
God exists,
He lies in wait.
For man to turn away,
From the devils bait.

The Unforgiven

A dark street in heavy suburbia,
All things beyond the laws of sanity.
As hunger tears through the loftiest of dreams,
Morals crucified on the poverty tree.

A loaf of bread, a sip of clean water,
The calloused palms of reality ask.
A dirty bed, laced with brutality,
The stones on the pavement in sorrow bask.

Blood thicker than porridge,thinner than water,
Hearts colder than frosty storms.
The richer they are,the farther they seem,
To the soiled babe, in the nest of thorns.

Does time heal the wounds that the unforgiven yeild,
Does sympathy quench the dark thirst of pain.
Repentance, is it a stalk frowing in my field?
That grew from unsowed grains of sin.

A child born in the garbage of pleasures,
Can life really find him.
He decides to go look for life on his own,
and returns back with strife behind him.

The cup runneth over, with storms in his head,
Cannibals biting at his heels, biting at his bread.
Unearthly intervention, repentence for sin?
and dies on the unforgiven, as humanity lays down dead.

A Dark Cloud in Soccer History...

How could this Happen? No, it cannot! How could Zizou do such a thing?! It was just too shocking! He just cant! My mind doesnt accept it, nor does my heart! But the world around me does. The media does, the television does! The refree did!Zizou did that ugly thing? Zizou got red carded in the Soccer World Cup Finals??!! How could this happen?

It has been a dark day for france and for Soccer. Such a legendary player falling to that level. Just unacceptable. I feeling still hasnt sunk in, two hours after I watched it live on TV. I dont think it will sink in even after a couple of decades. This is not what was supposed to happen. Zidane was to end his career on a glorious note. And it happened in the second overtime, just a few minutes before the end! France could have won!

It happened, and Zinedine Zidane fans, from all over the world are under a huge cloud of sorrow. It will take long to clear. It will...



I still wonder why...

ONE HAND LESS

He never valued me. He never had respect for me. I think I was Gods gift to him, but he never realized it.

I always knew Fred. Don’t remember from when, but I know I always knew him. I always looked up to him. And I was faithful to him. Always faithful. But he took me for granted. He never knew how important I was to him. I still remember those days I spent with him. Always by his side, attached to him faithfully. Always there to obey any of the commands that he would give. Never have I disobeyed him.

At a young age, I loved writing for him. It was so difficult for me. But i did. I struggled and my handwriting was wobbly. I had never done it before. So i decided to learn. I couldn’t disobey him, could I? As he grew older, i was with him in everything he did. In fact he never did anything without me. He was my best friend. But i don’t think I was his.

His prayers looked like prayers because of me. Without me and my brother, no-one could say he was praying. I helped him play baseball better than all the boys in class. My strength was his strength. And we were the best in class. No one could beat us at any sport. That is why Fred was so famous in school.

When he went to high school & college, I stuck to him. Fred was more into sports than studies. He needed me. I knew that. But he always thought that he was doing everything on his strength. He never remembered God. He never remembered that all that he could do was because of Gods grace on him. Because of Gods gifts to him. Gifts like me...

Then Fred got into bad company. He started going the wrong way, and made me do things i didn’t want to do. But I had to do it. I had to obey Fred. I couldn’t say no to him, because of what I was to him. God had created me to serve Fred. And when he wanted to smoke, it was I who helped him. I helped him drink and do all the wrong things he did. I myself was helpless. I only prayed that God give him wisdom to realize what he was doing. I only wanted the best for Fred.

When I look at Fred now, i am devastated. I have never seen him without me. All my life I was with him. He lies there unconscious before me on the road and I cannot do anything to help him. I am dying, because I am helpless without him. I cannot do anything without Fred. I was a part of him. He drove the car too fast, and the crash snapped me off from Fred. How I wish he had gone slow.

Oh, I ache so much. I know I am going. There is hardly any blood left in me... Fred will survive though. He can survive without me. But me, separated from him. No...

It was great being Fred’s hand. He took good care of me, and I tried my best to serve him. The only mistake he committed is he didn’t realize what I was to him. He didn't realize that I was Gods gift to him. ... Never thanked God for me.

... But now that he doesn’t have me, he will value me. ....He will. He will know what it is to live without a Hand. He will...

Moral: Some things turn invaluable only after you lose them.

ONE HAND LESS - AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A HAND, by Alistair Bangera.

CRAZY FUNDA STATION 1: Social Animal ? .... ??.. Civil Animal? ...or am I a Crazy Animal?

Warning: All text in the Crazy Funda Station has been written under the sever influence of Cobra venom directly injected into the brain cells of the writer. Some parts of the text may be unintelligible. Reader discretion is advised.

------------------- CRAZY FUNDA STATION ---------------------------

The thinker in me somtimes jumps out of bed, and that is when i start putting down my plans to save the world from great disasters of the future that I prophesize on alignment with my visions in my sleep.

Today I am going to clear the world off a big lie that has successfully planted itself in the minds of all the educated.

Man is a social animal. An Animal he is. But social? What makes him different from animals is the fact that he is social. I am gonna prove the following 2 results:

1) Man is not a social Animal.

2) Man is a civil Animal.

Result 1) To prove that man is not a Social Animal

Proof:
Let us first assume our result in statement (0) & then prove it wrong by theory of contradiction.

Man = Social Animal - (0)
.: (Man - Social) = Animal
.: Anti-Social Man = Animal -(1)

But,

Anti-Social Man = Shunning contact with others
.: Anti-Social man = Dislikes Contact - (2)

Now Animal = Likes contact -(3)

Reason - (All animals like contact with other animals of the same species. The wanna mate right!!!???)

.: from (1) & (2),

Animal = Dislikes Contact -(4)

& from (3) & (4)

Likes Contact = Dislikes Contact

.: Likes = Dislikes -(5)

Statement 5 is untrue as per the English dictionary.

.: from (0) & (5), we have a contradiction.
.: (0) is false.
i.e. Man is not a social animal byt theory of Contradiction.

AAAAnd the demons have been exorcized... armies from hell defeated, ... results proved!

--------------

One more feather added to the Crazy Funda Station Cap. If you dont agree with me my theorems... nobody likes you so go jump in the nearest nullah you find.

Zinedine Zidane - Mon héros

Well, the first time I saw this man, I hated hime. He was out screwing all the teams out there, with his incredible skills in the 98 France world Cup. He was the one who threw in fear into the eyes of many a team. In the finals, he took the case of Brazil so well that no brazillian knew what hit them. His headers in the finals were incredible and finished brazil off leaving them no chance. I saw brazil being destroyed with my own eyes, and deep in my heart the seed of hatred was planted against him. I would hate anybody who stood in the way of the victorious path of brazil.

And my dislike for him made me follow him. As I watched him, The seed of hatred in my heart started to shrivel. I knew that this guy was not ordinary. He was truly a class apart. Something unmatched. Something that wouldnt come back to the world, once gone.

Every goal of his was a wonder to watch. I just dont know why. And his tackles were magic. When he swooned his legs around the ball, everyone just gaped. His cool effortless style and his looks, all went together to turn the player I hated the most to the player I love the most.

My initial hate just stemmed from the fact that Zidane screwed Brazil, and I always have been a brazil fan. Looking back at those days, i feel I was immature. I took hasty decisions, and i followed what others did. Everybody loved brazil & I loved brazil too. I hardly thought for myself.

Today, as I watched the France v/s Spain match, Zidane again ethralled me. The last goal that he shot in the last few minutes was icing on the cake for France and was the event that made my day. Though the years have passed him by, he still remains as the Hero of many. A Hero that I would admire for many years to come...


Zidane, Zidane.. oh Zidane.
The chill of darkness,
A vipers venom,
Ruthlessness of death,
A raging storm,
All strike easier than you ...

Orkut

A few weeks ago, i got re-introduced to Orkut by a friend. I had received an invite earlier in the year, somewhere in Feb. I also had received one in 2005. But then i didnt know what orkut was about nor did I care.

But this month, when my friend resent an invite to me, i decided to check orkut out and use the extra time I had on my hand in the evenings. On registering, i didnt find it anything better that Hi-5 or a similar 'friends network'. Old wine in a new bottle i said to my self. And then it happened. I found a friend long lost. Through her network i found others, and my network just kept growing. Started keeping in touch with people who'm I had not met for decades. It was awsome. In a period of three weeks, I had found over 50 friends on my network, including some people I hardly ever talked to.

It was like a strange addiction, it was a different world, that held you in its hands and controlled you. A world that was driven by ties of friendship, emotions & nostalgia. Memories of the past flooded back, and i remembered my roots.

This is something of a revolution in computing and is re-defining the way friends meet. It is working its way towards becoming one of the largest friends networks ever, and walking through the boulevards that Napster, Google, Yahoo and Hotmail walked through. From a humble startup it is growing to something that would be bigger than we could ever imagine.

One day, people would have Orkut-ids on their visiting cards & Communities aand friends would grow to large numbers. The number of people having orkut ids would just grow to unthinkable numbers....

... and then the downslide would begin. Everything that goes up has to come down. It will then stabilize at a decent number when the next huge thing taps it on its back and says 'Now its my turn please...'.

But at this point of time, I salute Orkut Buyukkokten, the guy behind orkut, the worlds largest friends network!!

40 hours!!! My Maximum!

Well at last.... I could sleep! I was awake more that 40 hours on a stretch! I have never done that before. Never have I fought my eyelids with such great fury. The would not give up so easily! Every second was longer than the longest of centuries when my eyes were open, and every second was shorter than the shortest unit of time divided by a trillion raise to trillion, when my eyes were closed!

My war with the demons of sleep raged on, as I sat on my comp, looking for errors in our programs and jobs (mainfram jargon). The sun crawled above my head from east to west and then above the heads of my family in far away India. But what was it to me. It didnt matter where the Sun or the moon was. It didnt matter whether if was getting empowered by energy rays from saturn or some stupid asteroid blocked them by coming between Saturn & me (as bejan daruwala would put it), it didnt matter if posiedon was proved to be a colapsed star that would soon suck up the whole solar system into it. All that mattered was my package, and the question ..."When would we able to freeze it?"

Now that it is frozen, the shivers run through my spine faster than they ever had before. All that stands between me and a production abend is a comma or a dot that managed to squeeze through our large walls of Jscans that we built acround our components. Just one 'dot' could inflict huge amounts of pain in the 'other world'. One abend, and people would say... '&(*#*)()*#(!!!! !!!!!!

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...silence breaks (My team lead was around!)
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Just writing this blog as i review some 'SSR's (JSMJ (Just some mainframe jargon)) and some PRC's. And as i do this, I think to myself....

' ... Is this what I want to be doing the rest of my life?'

The question still hovers over my head like a bunch of charsi mosquitoes who think my blood is jack daniel's laced with ecstacy, heroine, charas, ganja and all the meth in the world.

30 HOURS & STILL COUNTING

Its 30 hours now!! 30 hours and im going strong!! 30 hours and I havent slept. The freez is all that I can think of now!

KEEP PRAYING FOR IT BUDDIES.

Working non-stop for 24 hours now!!!

I have been in the office for the past 24 hours now. I know im gonna drop dead soon. When will this package freeze? Im just waiting. And i know that after the freeze,ill wish I could unfreeze it, just like how u wish u could read ur books once the examination papers are handed over..

Anyway I can see two internet explorer windows, when there is only one right now. This really means that I should be sleeping. Im nodding away when im typing this. My eyes are red and the mmost va;aaaa fhtot /dd. m,phhghgp
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I got a promotion!

I got a promotion at work today...... I dont sound as excited as I should? Well, the salary hike was not as much i thought it would be. I expected more, but the promotion did make me feel good. It always does.

I dont know if ill end up as an old bald IT geek, a big fat baker, A dedicated missionary, A famous photographer or a brilliant author at the end of my career. But I know that whatever it be, it should be something that I should be proud of or satisfied with. I dont want to look back at my life and say "I really should have done that",

At this point of time, the old bald IT geek looks the most possible, looking at the condition of my hair and my current job. Unless I bring changes into my life, i dont see myself getting anywhere.

hmm... lets see what God has in store for me. Anyway, got my package freeze tomorrow. Got to get back to work.

I'm Working late hours...

Here I am seated, in the middle of the night, jscanning jobs (IT Jargon), when the rest of America sleeps. My back aches and my eyes are red. But ive got a package freeze in couple of days & cant afford to lose time...

Lose time.. blogging in the middle of the night isnt wastage of time, Is it
?. Not when it helps me stay awake a little longer. Well writing has always energised me, and always will. It doesnt matter if what i write isnt mking sense. But it makes me feel good. Thats the reason I am bloggin in the middle of the night when i shouldnt be. So i continue to write as seconds pass me by.

This isnt what i expected to write in one of my initial blog posts. But then hey, what should a blog names Alistair Bangera have? stuff about Alistairs life... And this is what is happening in my life right now. Me sitting and jscanning jobs... and now it is 4:30 am.

My manager is gonna kill me tomorrow. but the Jscans were quite productive. I should be able to catch around 4 hours of sleep before heading to work. Lets see how things go from there.

and anybody reading this, please start praying for my project implementation this weekend.

My first post on blogspot

This is my space, the place where I let out my views. I have wanted to start a blog for years now, but was just too busy. At last, I have my blog.