Sentry Tower

While reading a magazine I came across an ad that said: "Win an ____ watch worth $449! Hurry!". I don't know why but it felt really odd. As if the value of the thing was merely monetary. It seemed out of place especially because it was a specially customized item, that usable and useful to a niche audience who would be aware of the value of the item. For example: as a biking enthusiast, I know that the chance to win a K&N filter goes far beyond it's price. This is because it's my interest in the sport and the utility of the thing in question that gives it (to me) a value that cannot be quantified by the mere monetary worth of it. We live in a world where even time is broken down into money. And oddly enough, that does little to increase any concept of the value of time.

There is something about a good bassline. Now I don't want to go into all the technical mumbo-jumbo of how it keeps the entire band 'tight' and the melody in rhythm and all that. If interested, just look it up on google. No. What I mean is, a good bassline will keep you tapped into the song right from the beginning and until the end. Since the bass sound is deeper, it resonates more  inside.  I really don't know the technical details as to how and what frequencies produce vibrations etc. I'm just trying to put down what I feel when I hear a brilliant bassline. I'm listening to  Strip the Soul (In Absentia)   by Porcupine Tree and it has a beautiful one. Even before the melody began, it had me hooked. The melodic arrangement just needs to fill in the gaps and it becomes a good song even if it's just passable. Here it's great so it's a good song to listen to. Electronica like that by Daft Punk is also noted for it's lovely basslines as is Deadmau...

What if a right-handed person, who is a virgin, masturbates with his left hand? Is that infidelity? And if he can masturbate with both at the same time, does that constitute a threesome?

Hangovers are not just related to alcohol. The worst hangovers are related to good times. We've all experienced that feeling. The day after Diwali for some. When the debris from crackers litters the streets next morning. And it's a cool crisp morning with the sun shining. School starts the next day. Oh the pain! The buildup to an event, the anticipation, the rush is often as thrilling if not more, than the event itself. And consequently, the fall after the event is over is hard. It's tough. The mind refuses to leave such a happy event behind. It dwells endlessly (at least at first) to the days leading to the event, the event itself. One relives the good day(s) thousands of times. And life after seems drab in comparison. Then next time, we attempt to recreate the magic of last time. However, our expectations have increased. We want more. The same won't be enough anymore. And it never is the same. We work hard to set ourselves up for disappointment. The best of plans fall...

I had to visit my college a few days ago. Something about getting my last two marksheets etc. I went there with Saboo, one of my three best friends from college (along with Saumya and Shantnu). After all the office-work had been concluded, we decided to eat in the college cafeteria or the 'Mech Canteen' as we call it or called it in our heyday. I did know that it was going to be a nostalgic experience what with going back to college again and especially since it's been just a few months after we'd passed out and all. But the sheer weight of memories that hit me once we drove into college (indeed just as soon as we passed the familiar streets leading to it) was staggering! I am usually prone to over-analyzing my thoughts and I usually try and quantify what and why I am feeling so that I can understand it better. However, this time I just let myself go. As we drove through the streets of Rohini, past metro walk, I remembered the many, many times I had been to that mal...

I've been cheating. I've not been writing as regularly as I promised myself to write. Missed out days. It's more like a chore than anything else. Yet it may be the only worthwhile thing that I'm doing. At least these few months. I used to avidly recommend Train Theory to all and sundry. It is what saved me from going insane out of grief after my breakup (c. Dec-Mar 2011). Yet Train Theory has a catch. A very critical catch. It's more of a question of balance than anything else. But before all this confuses you, let me give a very basic outline of Train Theory. Train Theory When one travels in a train, one may observe a large building in view. The building may be huge in size and appear never ending. However, large as the building might appear to be, if one merely looks away from the window for a few moments, one will see that the building has receded into the distance and is considerably diminished in appearance. Soon after, the building disappears from all b...

I wish my days were packed. The last two days passed away in a blur. Or so it seemed... Maybe it's because I don't remember them. Maybe because I wished to forget. They were the worst kind of days because I didn't have to make any effort to forget them. Because they were born to be obscure and insignificant. Oscar Wilde has rightly said, that boredom is the only true death.