Monday, September 03, 2007

Man on the street - One liners...

Credits: Nike, Me & Sr. Analyst

  1. Have you ever needed an angel investor?

Of course, To save my “broke”n soul

  1. Have you ever needed a vulture capitalist?

Yup, because I didn’t payback my angel investor

  1. What is the BSOD? What is your most terrifying BSOD moment?

Big Screwup On Deck. Any BSOD is terrifying

  1. What is WiMAX and why would you need it?

It is the answer to nothing but the question itself...

  1. Complete the following sentence: “The last time I visited Sand Hill Road, I was looking for…..”

A way to get some gold

So that it won’t get sold

And keep it away from the banker’s hold

Am I being a bit too bold??

  1. Have you ever “autogoogled”? Did you enjoy the experience and would you do it again?

Yes. I tried the last time I had amnesia. I didn’t enjoy the experience because I couldn’t remember my name to google it.

  1. What does V-O-I-P stand for?

Value Of Intensive Procrastination

Very Obtuse and Insipid Person. More commonly used form is VP

  1. Who or what is Orkut (or Friendster)?

Friendster is a friendly rooster?

Orkut is german for friendly rooster?

  1. Have you bought or would you buy a Roomba? How has it /could it be useful to you?

Roomba is “A BROOM” which is twisted. It’s totally useless.

  1. Have you bought or would you buy a Slingbox? How has it /could it be useful to you?

No. The sling I bought came wrapped

  1. What would you be doing when you are contributing to the blogosphere?

Deleting my blogger profile.

  1. Would you rather frag or be fragged? Either way what the heck would be going on?

Freakingly Rich And Getting-it or Freakingly Rich And GettinG-it Every Day. I would obviously be FRAGGED. If you still cant get it……

  1. What is ogg vorbis and where would you likely encounter one?

An OGG (Owl’s eGG) that is in VORBIS (attained terminal Velocity and is ORBiting the earth Iso-Syncronously)

Saturday, September 01, 2007

I want to be FRAGGED!!

Freakingly Rich And GettingG it EveryDay

and want to get back to blogging....

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

F1 Australia 2007 - Check out Hamilton's awesome start

See the highlights of the Grand prix...

Albert Park: Ferrari and Kimi stake claim; Hamilton storms into F1 scene

2007 was the season where Kimi was supposed to get his deliverance and early signs appear that way. The ‘Iceman’ led the Australian grand prix from start to finish with a performance that would worry Ron and his two talented drivers at Mclaren.. read on

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

Goodbye IIMB series

1. The hot, watery coffee

Only when the Marketing of IT prof wished us good luck with our careers and ended the class, did it really hit me. It germinated from one simple though; a thought both liberating and nostalgic at the same time - that i will never again have a 8 AM class on mondays and tuesdays. Soon - by the end of this week - i will never again have classes. Full stop. No more worrying about the latest 'bunkometer' updates or surprise quizzes. I am trying hard not to think about class room sessions that corporates conduct. In any case, it will be no match for the ones here.

The truth, that my life at IIMB is coming to its own graceful halt, had been 'out there' for quite sometime. But it has so far been ruthlessly overshadowed by the approaching climax of life here on campus - the final placements. In a mad rush for bulleting my life within a one pager and trying to coax leadership and team abilities into text boxes, i had totally let the dying stages of life here slip past me. It is a totally different matter that Placements are perhaps the worst way to end your campus life. In that regard, undergrad colleges are much better. The only thing you are worried about in the final semester is extracting the maximum fun out of your campus before you leave it. Anyway, sitting there in the class, the realisation dawned and a sudden heaviness descended, which i determinedly attributed to me being asleep. In 3 more days all classes would be over. But the bigger truth was that in a little under 3 weeks my life at IIMB, classes or otherwise would cease to be the 'present' and transcend into the 'past' where i can only conjure up the images in my mind.

In a way, the classes coming to an end is an occasion to rejoice. Goodbye to boring lectures, irritating assignments, fraud reports, night outs for case submissions, project presentations and arbit CPs. To me classes at 8 AM is fraught with memories of watery and hot coffees grabbed at a rush, mouthful of morning breakfast stuffed in urgency and an uncomfortable chill that gave you fond memories of the warm bed you had just parted with. This is almost always where the memories end because once you enter the cozy confines of the class, you always end up sleeping. Its the 'going to class' part thats the most difficult especially when you are on the limits - as measured undisputably by the number of 'bunks' you have. Let me explain that,

There are three brands of students:
1. Impulse users - they use up all their legal bunks and end up attending all the remaining classes out of sheer necessity to avoid getting a D in the course,
2. Planned users - These guys would probably make the best managers, planning their bunks to perfection, making sure they have enought at the end and also making sure they use all their bunks and finally,
3. Thrifty users - These guys either use too much foresight and end up with unused bunks or they are just extremely focussed toward learning things that....whatever....

The problem for me was that inspite of trying my best to belong to the second category i always end up in the first. So if you were to walk into the campus after half a term is over and observe my behaviour pattern you would quite wrongly assume that I am a regular to classes. What you wouldnt know is that having bunked so many in the first half I....well, you get the point right? So, from that moment where you have just used up the last permissible bunk, you have to be on your toes. You just cant afford not to wake up for an 8 AM class. Life is really screwed up then!

But i would also be saying goodbye to some stimulating debates, enthralling lectures ranging from the outright humourous to the brilliantly insightful, some amazing professors and to the general concept of someone walking into a room hoping to impart knowledge to 50 pairs of appraising eyes and you being one pair in it. Thinking back, i can literally hand count the Professors i really admired and respected and considered it a crime to even bunk whose classes and standing tall among them is Prof. Ravi Anshuman. He had his own inimitable style: A measured voice with an excellent accent and an amazing way of building the concepts for you right in front of your eyes. I hated fin but I loved Corporate Finance thanks to him. Then comes the greatest performer on class i have ever seen: Ramachandran J. He thrived on challenging, intimidating and enthralling his audience to achieve the best. I would think that there was no better way to learn strategy. He knew his audience like he knew himself. He knew what your CG was, where you were going for summers, what you have scored in subjects before this etc. Its a queasy experience sitting in a class where the professor knew everything about you. I still remember in one the classes, we were analyzing Dell case, he turned to me and said, "So Mr. Tyagarajan, you are a computer science graduate, what do you think is the reason for Dell's success". A pretty inncuous question, but you had to be there to understand the gravity of it. When RamC(thats what we call him) asks you for an opinion, you just dont give it. Its like stripping off and walking on the road. You'd rather let him take the honours although you know that he is going to tear you apart no matter what. If there is one academic experience worth coming to IIMB for, it is RamC's class. Of course, its a different matter that he is one of the top consultants in the country and companies coming for recruitment go to him for advice. There were a few other professors too, who in their own way had a knack of imparting knowledge or making you think. Well, what can i say?

Thank you & Au Revoir.

Sunday, February 18, 2007

Australians are now No. 2

The Australians have been setting a lot of firsts lately; those of the kind they’d rather wish they didnt. After their first 10 wicket defeat in ODIs in the first game of the Chappell-Hadlee trohpy, the series defeat has ensured that the Australians have been squeezed out of their undisputed position as the No.1 team in the ODI rankings for the first time since the system was introduced in 2002. Is it the end of an era of the great Australian dominance or is it just a classic case of a burn out?

Read the article at 'Critics corner' - Here

When John Glen landed on the moon.....

Why people think Americans are stupid. An Australian reporter interviews Americans on the street...

Watch this youtube video...its fuc**ng hilarious...

Personal Favorites

1. Name a country that begins with 'u'
Answers: utah, yugoslavia, Utopia

2. Religion of 'buddhist' monks...
Answers: I dont know

3. Whats the currency in U.K....
A: Queen Elizabeth money?

4. Who should we invade next in our war on terror?
A: we'll make a fuckin glass crater out of the middle east for all i care.....

5. What is a mosque?
A: an animal?

6. Who is the first man on the moon?
A: John Glen

7. Which state does KFC come from?
A: What, the chicken? I dont know....

8. Star wars is based on a true story. True / False
A: True

9. What are hiroshima and Nagasaki famous for?
A: Aaahh...Judo wrestling?

10. How many Eiffel towers are there in Paris?
A: I'd say about 10

Some awesome quotes
"the fellow with the turban thing, i call it the diaper head, really.."

"Al-Qaeda is a suicide group in Isreal..ahh...middle east country...they do suicide bombs and stuff..and its...and the president of it is Yaseer Arafat....everybody knows that..."

"Al-Qaeda is a wing of the masonic order.."

"whatever he (Bush) thinks is right...he's from texas...he's got to be right"

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

The liveries of 2007....

Colour is doing the rounds as one of the most talked about aspects of the 2007 season, even after discounting Lewis hamilton from the headlines. Car launches have been revealing liveries ranging from the innovative to the ghastly. Liveries have been as much a part of a formula 1 car as its design and performance is. So what paint job do the machines of 2007 boast of…

Read more

Friday, February 09, 2007

Sorry blog, I cheated on you!

As chandler says in friends ..."if we are gonna cheat on our house, shouldnt it be with a hot younger looking house.."

again...apologies to my trusted blog here...but every once in a while a man needs excitement and hits in case u r one of my faithful friends who happened to stumble here, go and read my article: "F1 enters a new era" at


Disclaimer: Dark Stuff. No goofiness. No friendly abuse. No delightful miscommunication. No arbit science fiction. Just exploring the dark depths of human mind.

What if your worst nightmares all happened in a day. Would that tip you over the edge?

Hick stood 30 stories above the ground on the edge of the concrete parapet wall that stood between him and a violent death. His bare feet twitched on the cold and rough concrete, his chubby toes peeping over the edge down at the sidewalk several hundred meters below.

14 hours before....

Hick was happy. After all, who wasn't, on the day of his marraige. By 7:30 AM, he was already 4 hours awake into the day - he had been too excited. He and kate had decided that the ceremony was going to be small and in a local church. Only her family would be there and 3 of his closest friends. Of course, he had no family. His mother died when he was 10 and she had never talked about his father. So that left just the 3 friends he had grown up with. Kate, had a full family that would come for the wedding. The small table top clock buzzed: 7:45 AM. He had set that the night before. He walked up to the adjacent room where his friends were sleeping, "Guys, Wake up! We have to be in the church in an hour" To think they were going to be his best men. He smiled to himself as he thought of Kate getting dressed in the bridal gown in her home. She would be coming to the church with her family. Hick was happy.

This high the air was chillier and the large lightning bolts seemed to be closer and larger. As he stood, erect, his arms outstretched like he was about to fly, he shivered. A tall clock tower nearby glowed brightly, its unceasing roll of hands pausing that moment over 9:45 PM.

12 hours before....

Hick sat speechless in shock and fear totally oblivious to the chaos around him. Nurses rushing like hushed ghosts and doctors talking in whispers. The long white corridors with white walls marred up to half its height with a gray paint. He looked down at his hands. Blood. His tux was covered in blood too. He looked up directly at the bright light bulb in front of him. Somehow he didnt squint. His eyes stared right through it. A small door to the left read 'Emergency' and lay uninvitingly close. Far away, in one end of the corridor a small window let the bright morning sunshine drift into the hospital.

He needed to find out how Kate was. If she was treated then maybe they could go and continue what they left off: get married. It was totally out of plan, sitting here in the hospital. Today was only about marraige. But how the hell was he going to get married without Kate. He laughed loudly.

"Hick!", he broke out of his reverie. Kate's mom. Her eyes tear streaked, her lips quivering. Kate had told him that she was always easily scared and nervous. He smiled patronisingly, "Kate.",she whispered.
"Kate'll be alright mrs. Tyler. Sit down and rest", saying he moved in the visitors couch to let her sit.
Mrs. Tyler began to sob hysterically and it began to irritate him a little.
"Hick", she gasped between sobs,"Kate is dead!"

Far away, down in the streets there was a festive mood. Shops were covered in cheerful lights and Parents were shopping with their children. Boys were buying gifts for their girlfriends. Traffic was clogged. Red clad santa clauses stood in front of buildings giving wide beaming smiles at children and demure girls. Churches were holding special masses. After all, it was the christmas eve. Time for festivities. But that was all far far away.

Up here, several hundred meters above the ground, the world was different. The air was several degrees colder. It was dark and foreboding. Tall, Dark buildings stretched on all sides like cold monsters. Far away the sea could be seen, covered in a deadly silver sheen of the moon light. Up here, it was all evil and gray. And Hick was all alone.

6 hours before.....

He had sat in devastating silence in his office. He didnt know why he came there. He couldn't stand the hospital anymore. The crazy woman, Kate's mom, kept repeating that she was dead. He had to get out of there, at least Kate became alright. He couldnt go home. Somehow it seemed uninviting. So he had sauntered into his office on a sunday. In the cool confines of his office away from the maddening mid day heat. He switched on his friendly computer and enjoyed its pleasant glow.

"Hick", his boss. He didnt expect to see him here on a sunday.
"Oh, hi"
"I've got to talk to you Hick. Please come into my office"

4 hours before.....

Being fired is not pleasant. Especially if your boss accuses you of malpractice that you had no idea of. Hick roamed listlessly on the streets bumping through the crowd and trying to make sense. Disgrace...ashamed...thief...words kept ringing in his ears. He laughed hysterically. Great day so far. His marraige didnt happen and his Boss had given him a holiday. He wanted to talk to his three friends. It would be a great story, woudnt it.

Hick began to look for them...

2 hours before....

Hick had just walked out of the bar with his 3 friends. They were drunk and racous. It had been great; dinking with the three of them. A perfect way to cap a great day. Hick laughed and his words slurred with alchohol. That was when it happened. Screech of tires and a loud cry of pain. One of his friends lay there under the large SUV, its frightened teenage occupant stumbling out...

15 minutes before....

Hick had calmy walked into the building and taken an elevator to the thirtieth floor. Then he had climbed the small set of stairs onto the terrace.

He had come this far. From the morning just 12 hours before. 12 hours of digesting, assimilating and mulling over the events that were too incredulous to believe. Fate had dealt one massive, deadly blow after another. The sickly white hospital corridors, the retchingly yellow street lights, the blindingly lit office space, the dark alleyway - all the worst nightmares becoming a reality within 12 hours. Nightmares you woundn't wish on your worst enemy.

He stepped closer to the edge. He swayed slowly on the edge, a momentary hesitation and fear making him immobile. Jump, a voice screamed and it will all end. He turned down and gasped. The street was too far off. It was going to be painful. And 30 stories of horrified flight, screaming, arms flailing. Maybe, he needed to review his mode of death. What if he just took some pills. Or just shot himself. But he would need a gun for that which he could not purchase without a license. He was just wasting time, the voice said again. Just jump.

He nearly jumped but stopped himself as he saw Kate. She stood on the terrace smiling blissfully at him with his friend and his boss. Ah, they were all there. His life was back to normal. So, like he had done for the past 15 years he stepped off the edge and walked back to his room. Hick was a poor man, a man who had lost his job over no fault of his own 20 years ago, a friend to a terrible accident 18 years ago and his wife on the day of his marraige on a beautiful christmas day of 1990. As he walked back to his room talking to his wife, the city rolled happily towards the christmas of 2006.

Fear of death can do wonders.

Friday, January 19, 2007

The (Im)Perfect Crime

...The explosion of sound was like nothing he had ever experienced before. Under the thousand megawatt tungsten glare, his legs trembled a little. Suresh Krishna blinked under the surreal influence of a million cheering fans, and a huge stage that belonged only to him. A gregarious male voice broke across the uproar sending urgent whispers for silence across the mad throng. "Ladies and Gentlemen, We present you the quintesential Suresh. Lets give him a huge round of applause" The collective scraping of a million chairs as men, women, children, teenagers, the elderly all rose up to applaud this new phenomenon. A huge shreik rose from the front rows startling suresh. The shock was unfounded. It was just the hundreds of girls rooting for him. They were springing up and down clapping and screaming. 'We love you!' they screamed. For the first time in the last 90 seconds of his on stage existance, suresh's legs stopped vibrating. He was already getting used to the adulation and was even starting to enjoy it.

Thats when it happened. Like all bad things, it came out of nowhere, just when you thought things couldn't be any better and everyone were feeling extremely complacent.

It was a huge explosion. A nuke probably, or a neutron bomb. Images flashed out like they'd been sucked into a black hole. A new noise filled the atmoshphere. It was a voice. Something very familiar about that one. He knew that voice. The angel of death probably. Everything around was dark and so suresh assumed that he was in that transition stage between life and death. It didnt hurt. Didnt feel weird. By now the voice was extremely loud and clear, "Suresh, Get up...Its very late"


Suresh opened his eyes and groaned. The bright May-sun-light beamed into his room from the window directly before him bathing him in a thermal tide that sent his sweat glands into an early morning jog. The room around him was a mess. He wasnt a very neat guy to begin with. But that morning, the room was extra messy because of what happened last night. His cousins had come over, Raghav, Vinay, Sushmita and Divya and they had had a blast. Suresh rose from the bed and winced. A sharp stab of pain shot across his back and his right arm - the after effects of the night before. He should have realised that he had gone too far with the dancing when his legs kept giving away beneath him. All of them had been drunk. And that was when it hit suresh. Holy crap!

His mom walked into the room, carrying the flowers from the garden into the pooja room whose door, ironically lay inside his room. His heart was beating like a wild drum. The bottles, the mess! His parents must have seen everything when they came home in the morning after their trip. He was so screwed. He rose from the bed and his feet hit his guitar, which he carefully placed back in its place by his bedside. It was so futile moving one singular object when the room looked like a tornado had blown through it. How drunk were they? In an insane moment of guilt he vowed never to drink again but quickly realised that it was a stupid vow and took a new one to drink with moderation where moderation itself would be a dynamic variable capable of taking varying values. He waded through the chaos that was his room into the main hall. It looked spic and span. Even the large bronze statue in the corner was upright.

Suresh knew what had happened. His parents had walked in this morning, seen the house in the state it had been in, immediately knew what had transpired and had cleaned it. His pride, or wharever that had been left of it was now totally obliterated. Dreading the moment, he walked out into the front porch where his dad sat on his bamboo chair sipping cofee and reading the morning news paper.

"So, what did you guys do over the weekend", he asked seeing him come out.

As if he did not know. "Well, we were just hanging out...watching tv..did nothing special", why should he commit himself in any case.

"Since, its the holidays for you, why dont you clean up your room a bit. It looks like a pig sty"

For the first time, Suresh agreed that it wasnt an exaggeration.

"Yeah, i will do that today", he replied suddenly sensing that perhaps things had somehow gone right. But who was the mystery cleaner.

"Good morning", he heard a chorus behind him. Raghav and Divya walked out into the porch looking quite fresh unlike him. Some people just didnt have hang overs. But these two looked like they had been up for quite sometime. Slowly they slipped away from the porch and into the garden out of ear shot of Suresh's dad.

"We have a problem", divya looked worried.

"Did you guys clean up the house", suresh asked

"Yes we did. But its not complete."

"what do you mean?"

"Its the washing machine da. All the beer bottles are inside the washing machine"

Sometimes when people say really ridiculous things in such a matter of fact way you find it hilarious. And so suresh laughed till his eyes were filled with tears of joy.

"What the fuck are you guys saying", he asked, his laughter quickly transforming into deep worry lines on his face.

"Yeah man. We woke up at around 7 and realised that your parents would be coming and started cleaning. We had cleaned the house and had collected all the bottles in the storage room for disposal when we heard them in the drive way. So we quickly stashed it inside the washing machine and came out to welcome them."

"A washing machine. Of all places. You guys are nuts", suresh said.

"Hey!", divya was pissed, "You werent even helping. You were singing 'Something about my way' in your fucking sleep."


The little conspiratory group stood in the garden and drew up the tactical plan.

"Ok", suresh took lead, " We will move those bottles out of the washing machine, one by one, so that no one gets suspicious"

"Ok. Lets wake up sushmita and vinay also. Five of us. 16 bottles. Lets see how quickly we can do this."

So they went and woke up the other two and explained the strategy. They met up near the washing machine.

"What are you doing here", Suresh's mother walked in with a bunch of dirty clothes, "Have all of you brushed? I will get you people some cofee. She walked over to the washing machine and it was pretty obvious that she would now open the door to throw the clothes in.

"Mom!", stopped suresh, "No. I mean - My dirty clothes are inside and i want to wash them first"

His mom stopped. There was a collective sigh of relief from four lungs.

"Ok. Finish it off quickly", saying she turned up the water level and switched on the washing machine and left the room. The four could hear the trickle of water filling up inside the machine. Suresh switched it off.

"Here, detergent", they spun like crazy chickens as suresh's mom handed over the detergent. She left. Phew!

"Ok. We dont have much time. So instead of taking it one at a time lets do it together. We need some thing to carry all these bottles.", suresh looked around the room for a suitable baggage for 16 empty beer bottles.

"What about this?", sushmita brought a small jute bag lying in a corner.

"No. Too suspicious.", suresh thought quickly and rushed into his room and picked up his backpack and rushed back.

"", vinay said and opened the washing machine while suresh held the back pack.

One down. Two down. Three down. Wet beer bottles clinked inside his bag. It was ruined. Sound of feet. Vinay shut the washing machine with a bang while suresh desperately looked for a place to hide his back pack.

"What are all of you doing here", Suresh's dad peeped in, his spectacles dangling from his ear and his hands holding the paper he had been reading.

"Just talking", Divya replied nonchalantly. They stood there quite obviously not talking. Suresh's dad frowned and then nodded his head in a way that had come to represent, "I know you are upto no good" but he continued on.

They quickly loaded up the rest of the bottles into the back pack. It was pretty bulky and heavy now. Now all they needed to do was to carry this heavy bundle to suresh's room where it would be safe for the moment. Suresh tip toed to the end of the room and peeped out. The hall was empty and he could hear his mom in the kitchen. So he ran.

The trip from the storage room to his room involved a run of about 6 meters through the open hallway and suresh made 4 of them before he slipped and crashed to the floor. It was a moment frozen in time when the backpack crashed into the floor sending a huge explosion of noise through the house and suresh lay sprawled near it.

"What happened!", suresh's mom ran into the hall from the kitchen. If not for sushmita's quick reflex the day woudnt have been saved. She immediately kicked the pulverised backpack containing millions of shards of broken bear bottles across the hall neatly into Suresh's room. It was a slo mo moment as suresh watched the bundle skid across him on the smooth marble floor, his mother rushing into the hall way, the other two cousins staring trasfixed at the bundle as it cheekily entered suresh's room just as his mom rushed into the hall way. Safe for the moment!

After 10 minutes of fussing over suresh's fall they finally were allowed the privacy. They rushed into the room and pushed the back pack beneath the bed.

Thank god! That was close!

They sat in a moment of victorious silence to catch their breath. As the sound of their breathing died down another sound rose. They all heard it.

"Some thing about my way....I aint gonna hold sway....if u catch me...", the song filtered in from the living room upstairs.

Suresh smiled. He loved that song. It was his favo- hang on. Abruptly the smile faded. Something was wrong. He looked around for confirmation and he got it. Confusion and shock on his cousins' faces. The sound filtering in was way too familiar for suresh. In fact, it was the sound he had been hearing over the past 21 years, i.e. ever since he had learned to speak. It was the quintessential suresh himself singing his favourite song. This in itself shouldnt have been a bad thing but something was wrong. Like bullets out of a gun, the five of them rushed upstairs into the bed room from which the sound was coming.

They stood at the door transfixed by what they were seeing. The image on the t.v. was grosteque. It was suresh with beer all over his shirt, a beer bottle in his left hand and a guitar slung over his shoulder, standing over the dining table singing his favourite song all out of tune. His other 3 cousins - except the one who was filming it - were dancing with beer bottles int their hands around it.

The explosion of sound was like nothing he had ever experienced before. Under the thousand of megawatt tungsten glare, but more from the 3 bottles of beer, his legs trembled a little. Suresh Krishna blinked under the surreal influence of what looked like a million cheering fan- his cousins, and a huge stage that belonged only to him. A gregarious male voice broke across the uproar sending urgent whispers for silence across the mad throng. "Ladies and Gentlemen, We present you the quintesential Suresh. Lets give him a huge round of applause",screamed vinay. The collective scraping of a million chairs as men, women, children, teenagers, the elderly all rose up to applaud this new phenomenon. A huge shreik rose from the front rows startling suresh. The shock was unfounded. It was just the hundreds of girls rooting for him. They were springing up and down clapping and screaming. 'We love you!' they screamed. For the first time in the last 90 seconds of his on stage existance, suresh's legs stopped vibrating. He was already getting used to the adulation and was even starting to enjoy it. Thats when it happened.

They stood there at the doorway staring at the video in shock. Suresh looked angriliy at Divya, the video freak but it wasnt her fault. All of them were drunk.

His father turned toward them slowly. His face was a mixture of shock and distaste.

Finally he spoke, "The video cam was connected to the television, and i wanted to see the video we took last month at darjeeling", he said, "Can you change this?"

Monday, January 15, 2007


Somethings you just cant deny. However much i try to run away from it, the geek in me always catches up. In an attempt to pigeon hole myself deeper into the techie slot here come my new blog