Pankaj, in the human form :)

the extra-florescence in colors is because these were the only two colors i had available in my vicinity. yes i am lazy.

project mayhem

my board in office. all the things i do, the little ideas that come and settle above my head. picture quality vcan be blames on the mac, i am deprived of a flashy cool camera. :)

that crazy heart thing called love?

hmph. I guess its just chemicals. i hope its chemicals. its dangerous like chemicals.

Its that knot in your chest that makes you not breathe,it makes you a klutz, it makes a point that you act beyond stupid for someone whom you've known for not more that 4.65 seconds.

you turn retarder by the minute, and forget the existence of other fellow humans who actually seem to care about you.you stay awake till inane hours imagining situations and actually planning an imaginary course of action till you're completely satisfied with the combat plan. of course if you ever spent that much time actually working you'd be heading some multi-national firm but that's the thing, multi-national CEO's don't fall in love. its simple.

you run every word you say in your head 45 times even before you actually speak, while that same smartness evaporates at the very sight of the person concerned. you're back to being that blithering babbler who says i -erm-erm-i before and after every sentence.

someone said love is like having champagne in your head. maybe it is. it gives you that fuzzy-dizzy feeling and you do things beyond silly that you wouldn't have done otherwise,ever.

It ruins everything that functions properly, and i mean everything. its a superficial cohesive force which makes you a pseudo philosopher both before and after and obviously during the course.

you feel like this great song-writer and maybe someday you can add that in your CV, obviously you might require the CV immediately because your hours at work are spent at reviewing where-your-human-is, and you haven't checked your mail for 42 years and the pending work at your table has reached beyond an accountable level so you really need a new job as much as you need a new life.

How to get to wherever in a shared auto?

yYou're sitting inside a shared-auto, a rickety old miserable excuse for a vehicle. NASA has been heard to describe it as a contraption specially designed to make you feel the existence of all the bones in your body and how well they can move once they are subjected to change in altitude.

The best thing about this is, irrespective of the speed the bumps always feel harder. If you're lucky enough to have not banged your head on the roof or your feet squashed by the total stranger sitting next to you who for some reason feels that there's enough space for him to spread his legs and inform his office-mates about the next juicy gossip that might happen in the coming 60 years, you can take pleasure of the scenic beauty outside. Its a vehicle of all the comforts, some auto's have been known to directly source B&O music systems so they can blare the newest tamil numbers for your comfort.

the auto driver is always, either a direct descendant of Michael Schumacher or the slowest turtle ever and, will take pride in putting the auto right in between the non-existent space between a double-bus and some water tank. As if its not enough he shall stop the auto at any place irrespective of availability of place or not, next to bunch of random individuals who would be concentrating between texting/calling and crossing the road. And irrespective of number of people inside he shall always assume there's enough space for more 2 people to fit in.

the ordeal seems to continue for forever, you almost bang into million things, don't ask what all, you're still not even half way to your destination because traffic is running so thick that there's no place for even twiggy to step in, yet the there'll always be people behind you with firm belief that blaring horns lead to instantaneous clearing of road. such is their belief that they hardly deter, the horn shall continue till your vehicle moves 1.2 mm further.

Rest of the journey's just a buzz, you're almost deaf, you can feel every bone in your body crackle, you're vibrating like you've been on a whole new Richter level. Now you're screaming your lungs out telling the auto guy to stop who conveniently decides to stop 10 meters ahead to wherever you intended to get down. anyway you're out now, you missed that garbage can and you're on the road and you're late for work. gotta be fast, but please don't run into that bus. thank you and have a nice day

when you go mad on photoshop : 5 minute scribbles that keep me alive in office

miniaturest minature - rainbow eyed children: the doors

shiny eyes of crazy

now my child
listen to me,
these shining eyes of crazy
have a lot to say
you must listen,
(like you have another way)

the things i look for but i never find.
the greed that makes me blind.
the hope that someday he'll be kind.

i want, i need. so often i scream.
all those things that i dream.

if i show you my secret,
you would die.
what i have in my pocket,
and what i just threw away
little truth and little lies

now my child come closer,
i want you to stay.
these shining eyes of crazy
will show you things,
about which you'll never say.

these are secrets, child.
the words so unkind.
they are mirrors to tomorrow,
and come what may,
if you listen don't
they'll take you away.

these shining eyes of crazy

*

the dreams are mirrors of tomorrow

orange skies

the orange skies,
higher they go
higher they be
the dreams we catch
the things we see
words we hear
aren't meant to be