tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-108477132012-01-05T11:40:55.854-08:00<b>"Written Manifestations of an Idle Mind"</b>phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.comBlogger1241100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-64731766971979717212011-12-13T02:15:00.001-08:002011-12-13T02:16:02.215-08:00

I have never quite understood the fight sequences in movies. They remind me of a bank. It is as if our hero works at the bank. The villains are the customers. Despite being armed with looks rugged enough to bring an expression of fear on Arjun Rampal’s face and enough weapons to pose a threat to the Bush administration, they huddle obediently around the hero. It is as if they have all been given

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-42995372075755954772011-09-21T04:43:00.000-07:002011-09-21T10:02:56.754-07:00

Remember 60ml rum and 60ml cold drink? Remember one sips, because there was no money for two? Remember feeding your good friend under the table, the friendly mouse? Remember wiping the empty glasses clean – again, and again, and again? Remember the elaborate conversation with the auto driver at the counter? Remember only needing 100 bucks to get reasonably smashed? Remember chicken pepper dry

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-56797911036915092442011-07-21T01:24:00.001-07:002011-07-21T01:26:32.613-07:00

“7 missed calls,” beamed the display on Anand’s Blackberry. His fingers scrolled effortlessly through them. They were all from his brother’s mobile. He walked up to coffee machine, filled up a large cup to the brim, and walked back to his cabin. He readjusted his Bluetooth earpiece, and dialed the number on the phone, and slid it into his pocket.His tone remained casual as he took a sip - “You

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-82598167403699269592011-07-17T22:48:00.001-07:002011-07-17T22:49:55.571-07:00

There are two reasons why I don’t drive back home from work. The first one is slightly socio-economic in nature. To get to the crux of this one, you will have to dismantle, analyse and scrutinise the financial structure in the advertising industry and its effect on a copywriter’s life. Well, the first reason is that I don’t own a car. The second reason is slightly more important. It is an

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-83719262995681568042011-05-24T10:34:00.000-07:002011-06-06T23:05:11.252-07:00

After a week on Orkut, another week on Yahoo Messenger and a month on telephone, we met. I was at work when she called. She had come to Cottons to conduct a counselling session for the teaching staff. She had just delivered an hour long lecture on how learning disability was as natural as the ability to learn. By the time it was over, she was tired and hungry. We decided to meet for lunch.Cottons

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-48035482054221752612011-04-25T04:03:00.000-07:002011-06-06T22:47:38.661-07:00

You are a guy. You have just stepped through the gates of adolescence. You are excited in more ways than you knew you could be. You are walking down the street. You pass a gorgeous girl, light years out of your league. You drool. You appreciate your latest set of hormones. You try hard to control them. The girl walks away, without even acknowledging your presence. What are your options? You could

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-53688521729059236242011-04-05T03:58:00.000-07:002011-04-05T04:01:44.575-07:00

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phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-3707463717455273772011-02-09T20:56:00.000-08:002011-02-09T20:58:01.349-08:00

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phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-5865826439801033812010-12-29T02:37:00.000-08:002010-12-29T02:38:18.885-08:00

For most people our age, the first of household responsibilities we take on is that of shopping. Not the kind of shopping we are familiar with these days, but the kind that includes the basic necessities of those days. The list mostly featured milk, bread and the occasional egg(s). It was not as if that list fulfilled every need to run the house. It was because the adults took care of the rest of

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-68814124081523227562010-12-27T03:44:00.001-08:002010-12-27T03:45:39.313-08:00

I have been here before, they look so frighteningly familiar,the blood stained walls, the echoing shrieks and the dark alleys.I have fallen, been struck down and at times been wounded,and rolled down the slopes of treacherous and timeless valleys. As the darkness descends and shuts the doors of hope,I lie there in agony in a sticky pool of my blood old and new.Waiting for the eerie shadows to

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-16546907303157412452010-12-21T00:44:00.000-08:002010-12-21T00:46:42.293-08:00

I recently had a status message on FB where I compared Monday with a certain department in an advertising agency. To avoid discrimination, I decided to analyse the other days as well. The result, is mentioned below.Monday must be in Client Servicing. Every time it shows up, it gets abused, screamed at and is shooed off. But give it a few days, and it is back smiling.A Tuesday is not really

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-33128702059092832562010-11-19T02:50:00.001-08:002010-11-19T02:55:32.445-08:00

A wailing siren pleads to the crowd,as a heart fights a battle it is bound to lose.Cries of agony fall and drown in cold blood,as selfish minds tend to ignore and not choose.Open your eyes and a little of your heart,roll down your windows and let a life through.For what goes around has to but come around,and the white caravan will come for you too.Interpretations by a few friendsLolo“I feel it’s

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-3857495558913671802010-11-15T06:12:00.001-08:002010-11-16T00:52:03.378-08:00

Gentle waves impatiently washed against the dyke at the GCDA building in Cochin; each wave more frustrated than the previous one. Grey balloon clouds waited eagerly for an arrow of cold breeze to burst them to life. As nature’s drama unfolded in the seas and the skies, a little and ageing shopping complex stood beneath unsuspectingly.Hiralal was on the last page of his third newspaper when the

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-70446620713422063232010-09-16T02:27:00.001-07:002010-09-16T02:30:03.631-07:00

Prominent, among a plethora of things in the west we Mallus in the advertising industry keep our eyes open to, is adultery. So when a ‘single and blatantly eager to mingle’ mom in her late 30s (Aditi) and a ‘married but an effervescent pool of testosterone’ dad (Vimal) were seen together, two and two were left with no choice but to add up to five.First to smell the rat was Dileep. I still wonder

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-11581550452957949862010-07-19T04:31:00.000-07:002010-07-19T04:32:58.527-07:00

It was all fine till that moment; when that man in white slapped me hard on my buttocks dangling me by my feet. And with that first infliction of pain came a flurry of tags. I was a son, a nephew and by the virtue of a late act by my grandfather, an uncle. And as I grew, so did the list of tags. I was soon a brother; and then a friend. And so on.With these tags came conditioning; obligations

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-10622871776494765232010-06-29T02:49:00.000-07:002010-09-06T03:21:11.557-07:00

I recently received a comment on my blog. It was from a guy named Mike Thom. He wanted to interview me because some guy he interviewed named my blog as his favourite (yeah right!). Here is the online interview page. And my answers.The InterviewPlease give us a description of your blog (This will appear on the homepage):My blog is a crammed up little dingy corner in cyberspace where letters that

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-2947262766937674502010-06-21T22:59:00.001-07:002010-09-06T03:18:11.596-07:00

There it was. The Brazilians were in town. And so was beautiful football. A rampaging victory over the African superpowers followed. The world rejoiced over the victory. The world mourned the angel’s a.k.a. Kaka’s sending off and the inevitable cheating by an African player. Things were back to normal again. Justice prevailed. Or did it?Kaka epitomizes what football should be all about. An

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-55373830057033111992010-05-31T05:53:00.001-07:002010-05-31T05:54:20.762-07:00

I think I have become a strange creature. How else can one explain my state of mind? I stand before you suffering from a hatred for good people. I am scared of them in pretty much the same way one is scared of the unknown, the untold or the unfamiliar. I get uneasy at gestures of goodness. I flinch whenever goodness is on display. I always doubt the ulterior motive. The proverbial smell of the

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-12152853516282539222010-05-05T04:00:00.000-07:002011-08-04T22:38:02.477-07:00

The curtains made way as a gentle breeze sneaked into the dimly lit room. It slowly dragged itself, hugging the grey walls and the darker corners. A few pages of an open book fluttered as the breeze continued its journey across the room. Using its last burst of energy, it swept across Vivek’s sleepy face causing him to open his hesitant eyes. It was his first visitor in the last 6 hours.His

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-79069045984242032172010-02-25T04:01:00.000-08:002010-03-01T21:21:48.837-08:00

It all began on a late Friday afternoon. I’d just finished the regular quarter of Old Monk and was indifferently forcing my playlist on my sober colleagues. The phone rang. Woman: “Hello!”Me: “Yes?” (In a nonchalant tone, a device I use to camouflage my interest in things feminine.) Woman: “Sir, I am calling from Kiti Financials. Would you be interested in a personal loan?” Me: “Well, not

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-34331135648230704752009-12-22T03:45:00.001-08:002009-12-22T03:46:14.020-08:00

Don't wash my first sin off without telling me where I'd gone wrongDon't teach me my first rhyme because it could be my sorry songDon't get me those fancy gifts until I learn the joys of choiceDon't pick me my best friend, ignoring my heart's little voiceLife of mine...I was born as me, I'll live this life of mineI trashed those numbers and counted the starsI grew my hair long and cut the wisdom

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-82525115182509587992009-12-22T03:44:00.001-08:002009-12-22T03:45:07.662-08:00

The cut mud roads and the rare night train,or the jungle trail and the mountain rain?Travel sickness and the sun burnt hands,or the roaring waves and the sprawling sands?A bad hangover and a worse headacheor the midnight drive and the deep dark lake?The moody rants and the petty tiffs,or the one tight hug that erases all ifs?Broken hearts and the sleepless eyes,or the first blown kiss and the

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-47818746758706709592009-11-17T22:05:00.001-08:002009-11-17T22:09:15.720-08:00

Note: I request all women with a poor sense of humour to stop reading at the period. Autorickshaws must be from Venus. They behave pretty much like women anyway. Listed below are a few comparisons. I am sure people more observant and imaginative than I am, will come up with more. 1) They ask too many questions; unnecessary more often than not.2) They always demand more. Despite a meter (logic in

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-33340834991750258852009-11-09T04:01:00.001-08:002009-11-09T04:02:46.717-08:00

The city of Bangalore must be in a fluid state. Yes, yes. I have never seen a mobile lamppost either. But nothing else could explain, the phenomenon I am about to narrate. It was way past lunch time and I was out to meet a friend. Since I had kept her waiting for long enough, I thought I’d pick a place closer to her workplace to make it up. And hence I chose Frazer Town. Now the fact that Savoury

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-86300902903552058222009-11-02T02:08:00.000-08:002009-11-02T02:16:11.710-08:00

I recently got myself a Manchester United logo tattooed on my arm. The torture lasted 4 and a half hours (relatively quick according to the artist). And by the time it was done, I was a happy man. Now, I don’t expect many people to share my joy, or even understand it. Precisely the reason why I got it in a not-so-visible area. I am tired of explaining to non-believers what football and especially

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-88331037072018575462009-10-20T01:00:00.000-07:002009-10-20T23:34:10.980-07:00

He could roll three at a time now. He considered it quite an evolution from the confused little boy from a couple of years back. He even took one to the toilet. He had to rather. He was fully stocked throughout the year. There was never a low day with him around, joked his buddies. His circle of friends was now much wider than the tiny speck from the past.Three pairs of bloodshot eyes looked on

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-57154348233983161612009-10-16T04:34:00.001-07:002009-10-16T04:35:01.712-07:00

He looked at the saliva dampened roll of paper in his hand once again. Apprehension. Curiosity. Temptation. He eyes moved hesitantly around the dimly lit room. Several pairs of expectant and dazed eyes stared back at him. The smell of the smoke that emanated from the cigarette made him uneasy. Well, all things good came with an in-built put off clause, didn’t they? He recalled his first glass of

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-982601184490905932009-09-30T05:17:00.000-07:002009-09-30T05:19:54.799-07:00

Options – a word hated and dreaded with equal passion by the creative department in any advertising agency. But why? Let us solve the mystery. Here is a conversation between a client servicing executive and a copywriter. ‘C’ shall represent the copywriter and ‘S’ would stand for the servicing executing.C: But why the fuck do you need more options? It is six in the evening and my friends are

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-8073734160445882742009-09-06T22:48:00.000-07:002009-09-06T22:49:24.270-07:00

Cynicism seems to be the order of the day, or rather the best among a multitude of ‘isms’ around begging to be followed. Unless you like cruel surprises of course. Ones like - Water is at times thicker than blood. Cheating is not confined to ‘Desperate Housewives’. Death is not for the body alone. The proverbial friend in need is just proverbial. Cigarettes cause hypertension on the long run.

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-67591591089892669432009-08-10T01:00:00.001-07:002009-08-10T01:02:32.535-07:00

I think it is way too easy to get hold of a driver’s license in India. I think the criteria should be more stringent. I guess it is the only way to keep a check on (as eradicating would be impossible) the madness on the roads. Here is a suggestion.There should be a psychological test as part of the regular written (can crack them with both the eyes and the mind shut) and the

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-5256971721118405212009-07-29T02:45:00.000-07:002009-07-29T02:47:29.748-07:00

Mrs. Geeta Ramachandran, my chemistry teacher, taught me that alcohol is one of the best existing solvents. For people like me who did not pay much attention in school, it is a liquid substance capable of dissolving other substances. Due to its acidic or basic (could be either like water) properties, it reacts with almost everything resulting in the dissolution of the item in contact. The element

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-18829379691510076062009-07-21T05:14:00.000-07:002009-07-21T05:18:09.305-07:00

To dreams I wake up screaming while to nightmares I smile,lions graze in my backyard and lambs roar in the wild.Beginnings await my arrival while destinations I leave behind,honey burns in my veins while poison feels surprisingly kindTheir songs my eyes see while my ears listen to them paint,the murderer I embrace, but mercilessly scythe down the saint.The moon lights my noon while the sun warms

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-59991276224390678532009-07-20T05:44:00.001-07:002009-07-20T05:44:43.142-07:00

Unlike in the metros, advertising still works in mysterious ways for my folks and the likes back in Kerala. My dad hates it when I introduce myself as a copywriter to his friends. He prefers ‘advertising executive’. Like that sounds any better. But can’t blame him completely, can I? I remember telling one of my friends, a science graduate, about me being a copywriter. “That must involve a lot of

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-91458609881962269582009-07-20T05:38:00.001-07:002009-07-20T05:39:23.633-07:00

Beep, beep! My friend sitting across the table at the bar picks up his phone. It’s an SMS. His eyes bulge and are on the verge of falling down from their sockets as his eyes take in line after line. Without a word, he passes the phone to me. It read, “Brother’s engagement over. Wedding on the 16th. Luv sis.” Before you WTF(use as a verb) the aforesaid, you have to realize that the brother

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-30933939632585895032009-06-14T21:54:00.001-07:002009-06-14T21:55:42.911-07:00

It was well past the closing hours at the Shivas bar. A few friends of mine and I were still drinking when I felt a tug on my sleeve. It was the new trainee guy from work who had accompanied me to the bar. He lived at a PG and had a deadline of 10.30 to catch before the owner unleashed his little menaces – a Rottweiler and a German Shepherd. Reasonable, I thought. And hence, I ignored him. The

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-86209316762654563812009-06-09T05:22:00.000-07:002009-06-09T05:24:32.452-07:00

I might be a computer graduate but technology is the last thing you want to discuss with me. I used to like creating computer viruses and all that when at school. A little bit of hacking and cracking was also highly amusing. But that’s about it. It is basically due to my laziness. Things in the world of technology have been moving so fast that my fat ass just hasn’t bothered to catch up and keep

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-35799713764980107602009-06-09T05:18:00.001-07:002009-06-09T05:21:22.632-07:00

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phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-9021649157664590912009-05-04T00:40:00.001-07:002009-05-04T00:41:22.454-07:00

There are no such things as unplanned trips. Yeah. The same spontaneous ones you set off on, well past midnight. The ones that ensure that you apparently had tons of fun while your boring friends stayed home or went to PVR over the weekend. The ones that let you post snaps of yours with panoramic backdrops on Orkut and Facebook. In actuality however, they are just journeys you have been planning

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-52247765032451690392009-04-19T22:32:00.000-07:002009-04-19T22:35:22.230-07:00

After Jesus Christ’s illicit affair, Kennedy’s assassination and CIA’s Gmail, the controversy theorists have found a new target - Facebook. The theory says that Facebook is a device used by the CIA to create a huge database of the users from across the globe. On second thoughts, it is quite possible.Imagine the malice and hazards you can be subjected to with the kind of information you have

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-88825181383710347052009-04-06T04:03:00.000-07:002009-04-06T04:05:44.376-07:00

He could almost feel the teeth sink into his flesh as he tore through the woods. The chase seemed endless. And the wolf, tireless. She had been on his trail for almost an hour now. She had picked up the scent of his blood at the brook, the man-eater.**********************************************************************************************************************The Onbitwish Woods had been

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-38020079036255730032009-04-02T03:43:00.000-07:002009-04-02T03:45:44.394-07:00

The day the last sun painfully setThe brave candle parted with its fighting flameThe pale moon shone betrayed and bereftThe nightingale forgot his song in shameThe stream never laughed her teasing giggleAnd the rainbow shed its every colourThe pool of tears looked a treacherous puddleEven cupid seemed to have lost his powerSilver linings burnt as lightning ceaselessly struckThe only tunnel closed

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-862686389233098982009-03-18T22:19:00.001-07:002009-03-18T22:19:56.552-07:00

Swipe your card at nine in the morn,Rush to the monitor and do switch it on,Even work on a file that is already completeBut don’t make it seem you are idle at your seatCut down your smoke breaks to five, maybe sixDouble the number of your brownie point ticksWhen a friend comes to chat do shoo him awayFor he won’t pay you on the salary dayGtalk was good when there was no firingBut now close the

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-67238973163170760942009-03-17T23:45:00.001-07:002009-03-17T23:46:22.714-07:00

“Aaaaargh!!! You just punctured my eye you rotten little drunk,” screamed Cyclops, the old dartboard at the pub. “I guess they will only realise my pain when I bleed. Agnostic infidels. I think I might as well just hang myself to death. Oh, I already am hanging. Somebody tighten the noose for god’s sake!” Silence. Snap. “Oops, the wrong head. Sorry nail.”

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-87248487532846842162009-03-17T23:33:00.000-07:002009-03-17T23:37:25.789-07:00

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phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-29962783120718897322009-03-17T05:11:00.001-07:002009-03-17T05:23:15.848-07:00

I looked again, through the corner of my hopeful eye. No. I wasn’t mistaken. She was indeed staring at me.Wow. I might not be the ravishing hunk around, but yeah, I wasn’t the ugliest one around either. I remember, once there was this girl called Lily who said that I was cute. And then there was Riya; well, she did not exactly say anything. Then who was it? Whatever. Forget it. But this was

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-40905185701786952302009-03-16T04:05:00.000-07:002009-03-16T04:07:34.343-07:00

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phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-91648945224580431602009-02-19T22:45:00.000-08:002009-02-19T22:47:17.759-08:00

I am forced to believe that I live in a world, as is portrayed in the movie ‘The Matrix’. How else can I explain the series of events I witness every day on my way to work? Remember the first time Neo visits the Oracle? He sees a little boy who bends a spoon. His powers are trivial when you compare some of the psychics I come across. And what makes them even better than ‘The One’ – they are yet

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-14546771058251612832009-02-12T20:35:00.000-08:002009-02-12T20:41:27.284-08:00

Below, is my entry for the 55-word story contest at the Kalaghoda festival. The theme is cheating. ****************************************************************************** <!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 false false false EN-US X-NONE X-NONE MicrosoftInternetExplorer4

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-19433135756037626882009-02-04T02:18:00.000-08:002009-02-04T02:21:23.177-08:00

There are two reasons why I did not like Slumdog Millionaire. One is that I expected a mountain out of the movie. And two, the movie did not offer even a molehill.Before any brows are raised, let me introduce you to my movie yardstick. My judgment of a movie is based on a few simple parameters. The plot should be original a.k.a. fresh. It should be water-tight. In the end, it should be one fine

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-51233675462941904682009-02-02T03:34:00.000-08:002009-02-02T03:38:47.303-08:00

I was born in Elite Hospital, Koorkancherry, Thrissur, Kerala, 50 metres away from where my parents got married.I lifted my cousin sister’s blouse as a 2-year-old. Out of curiosity of course.I chewed up a millipede once, mistaking it for ‘Cadbury’s Gems’.It took me a ladoo to stop crying on my first day at Kindergarten which was called ‘The Ladies Club Nursery’.I wanted to be an oceanographer

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-60886230896770751892009-01-29T22:53:00.001-08:002009-01-29T22:54:51.907-08:00

Nine - The number of times I called up my IT helpdesk (namely Padmanabh) and heard the busy tone. Nine - The number of times I contemplated walking up to my IT helpdesk (Padmanabh a.k.a. Pappu). Sixty six - The number of steps that took me to Pappu’s cubicle. Four - The number of failed attempts at getting Pappu’s (on the phone flirting) attention Two - The number of lines I had to use

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-63862649474032831522009-01-29T01:41:00.001-08:002009-01-29T01:42:31.485-08:00

Very coincidentally, this post is related to elevators as well. I just got morally policed in one. Have you ever walked into an elevator wanting to go to the fifth floor and found every one of the buttons pressed? And surprisingly, there is nobody else in the elevator except you, your friend and a huge ugly spectacled lady. My frustration was obvious. It was clearly a cruel time-killer the

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-50093969094616057742009-01-28T01:34:00.000-08:002009-01-28T01:39:48.698-08:00

I am sure most us have waited for the elevator at some point of time in our lives. Those who haven’t, you will surely get your chance, unless fate plays a cruel trick. Those who have will relate to this post. For those who haven’t, this is a warning to watch out. Why do people press the elevator button more than once? I mean the one to summon the elevator, and not the floor choosers. Does

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-73699854798468525362009-01-20T03:40:00.000-08:002009-01-28T01:40:53.904-08:00

I think that sooner or later, the blacks will inherit the earth. The process has been on for a while. Jesse Owens gave us a hint, and Hitler a slap, in 1936. It was there for the entire world to see, the first televised event in the world, the Berlin Olympics. When Owens jumped, he defied not just gravity, but a century of prejudices and misconceptions. Chuck Berry and the likes conquered the

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-76212886160279347382009-01-05T22:48:00.000-08:002009-01-05T22:51:06.242-08:00

I noticed the little blotch when I sat down at the black marble table at Dolphin bar. It was the size of a one-rupee coin. At first sight, it looked to me like the remains of torn-off sticker. Further exploration with what was left of my fingernails suggested otherwise. It just wouldn’t come off. I left it alone and placed my order of rum, coke and a pack of cigarettes. The blotch was forgotten;

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-44596169559618176382008-12-23T21:35:00.000-08:002008-12-23T21:36:15.870-08:00

A day after God swore in as himself – a ceremony supervised by him and few angels – came the time to delegate portfolios. The criterion was simple. Divinity. Since there was no accepted scale to quantify, and since qualification would result in apocalypse, God decided to create a jury. It comprised of him and well… him. The ones with the most astounding of supernatural abilities received the most

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-9232210665961615892008-12-18T23:36:00.000-08:002008-12-19T00:17:58.098-08:00

I have been tagged and have been asked to answer a series of questions. I have done that meticulously. Thank you for rolling me on Cris.Here is the result:PAST What are your oldest memories? There used to be an old Tamilian lady next to my house when I used to toddle around as a 2-year-old. I used to frequent Mami's (as I used to call her. For that matter, as everyone used to call her) house

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-24855480949339782802008-12-08T03:38:00.001-08:002008-12-08T03:43:54.604-08:00

It had been a long and tiring night. All of them were. Mad car chases, endless alleys, pools of blood and gun fights. Life of a homicide detective was far less glamorous than on the reel.He almost fell off as he scampered out of his new SUV. He leaned against the wall for support as he slithered up the steps. He had come across many a tough opponent during his crime fighting days. But this one

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-18093282487525367282008-11-26T04:11:00.001-08:002008-12-04T00:16:46.124-08:00

If you knew some of things I knew, you’d probably start your own multimillion dollar blackmailing firm with branches in all the metros and with over 3000 employees. For instance, I know all about this actor who is sleeping with his producer’s wife. That is indeed, a very generous sign of gratitude to the man who provided him his first break. I also have some information on this cop who was

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-74742420277489131882008-11-25T04:07:00.000-08:002008-11-25T04:08:05.388-08:00

I have some strange and strong views on religion and god. One of them is that, I think god is like a placebo. There must have been a time when life had our forefathers with their backs against the wall. They needed help. Unfortunately, most of their problems had no solution. Death for instance. So a few doctors, extremely wise men without a degree, sat together and created this placebo called god

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-53947593500483218732008-11-25T03:31:00.001-08:002008-11-25T03:32:45.030-08:00

Last weekend, after around six rounds of drinking, one of my closest friends told me how he had just declined a great job and a mammoth pay hike for his dog. As in, it is not that the dog was jealous or anything. It was simply because he wasn’t willing to relocate and leave the dog back home; and yeah, his fiancée too. I somehow completely fail to understand how people can take such crucial

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-23238398185901154482008-11-19T02:22:00.001-08:002008-11-19T02:23:02.960-08:00

I think there is a direct relationship between intoxication and cleanliness. I tackled three days of garbage and dirty vessels after 3 drinks of whisky; a thing I would have been otherwise incapable of. I cleaned up the entire house (which includes the toilets) on around 8 pegs of rum. I wonder what it must take for those poor guys who clean up the sewage pipes. Poison?(courtesy: bonsaiz)

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-89603621039873549502008-11-19T02:21:00.001-08:002008-11-19T02:23:40.155-08:00

Recently, I discovered and identified a special skill in me. I choose to write about it because it is not a frequent occurrence in my case. I guess I have had this ability for quite some time, but have just not been able to name it. The talent I am talking about is the power to manipulate. To be precise, I can convince people into doing things and saying things, while in a conversation with

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-39194479753636844702008-11-19T02:19:00.000-08:002008-11-19T02:21:01.757-08:00

I think romance is at its best in its unexpressed form. Like the gaze that tells a thousand tales only you can hear. Like those melodies in our dreams. We let them play in our head without letting them get pinned down by lyrics. Like those words. The ones that say a lot more when unwritten than when inked.(courtesy: bonsaiz)

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-35615272858973249782008-11-19T02:18:00.000-08:002008-11-19T02:19:50.968-08:00

It’s been a while since I began questioning the morality of my job as a copywriter. As I picked up my latest job brief, my cynicism grew deeper and darker. I was to write nice things about a popular pasta brand, and eventually cajole the masses into buying it. I tried it, and just like a couple of earlier experiences, hated it with utmost passion. There lies the answer to my question - colorful

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-40114858142772043342008-11-19T02:15:00.000-08:002008-11-19T02:17:20.669-08:00

Woman: "I am going to make you drink a whole lot of rum and make you do things which you would otherwise refuse to."Man: "There are many consequences to excessive alcohol consumption - hallucination and oral disembowelment to name a few. But FYKI, hypnosis is definitely not one of them."(courtesy: bonsaiz)

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-37120630649608424052008-11-19T01:32:00.000-08:002008-11-19T02:18:11.063-08:00

I have a friend who lives in the United States of America. She is getting married in December. A couple of days back, she asked me if I could do a little bit of cropping and make her wedding invitation cyber-friendly, and fit for circulation via email. I agreed. By agreeing, I deprived yet another American of a few American dollars. I guess this will not go down too well with Mr. Obama;

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-8349543279874527222008-11-19T01:29:00.001-08:002008-11-19T01:31:46.007-08:00

There are times when some very amusing thoughts strike me. Blame it on a lack of imagination or my sheer inability to articulate, I end up losing them in the ruthless quagmire. And hence I decided to start a new blog as a dedication to those thousands of dead and stunted flashes. I decided to call it bonsaiz – in reference to you know what. The bonsaiz blog resides at http://

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-11712458797305990982008-11-06T22:35:00.000-08:002008-11-06T22:41:20.375-08:00

Prison walls have memories written all over them. There are those of joy, of agony, of bereavement and of fulfillment. However, the ones most deeply etched are often of remorse. They are written in bright red. So bright, that every time you read them, your eyes hurt. The one that read ‘the fateful afternoon’ was scorching. It almost burnt his heart. He was there when the police arrived. On his

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-57858763942438344212008-10-09T23:10:00.000-07:002008-10-09T23:12:29.091-07:00

It was a girl's voice that answered the phone. After a moment of hesitation, I introduced myself. She sounded pleasantly surprised! A brief session including the exchange of each other's whereabouts followed. With an option to call her during a later hour, I hung up. I knew Shahana through a roommate of mine from Delhi. She was an online friend of his, who had later turned into a phone

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-59608046523956894232008-09-22T04:48:00.001-07:002008-09-22T04:55:42.032-07:00

I woke up in a long corridor. I could not remember how I got there. But then again, after a night of thorough binging, nobody would. The place looked familiar. I slowly got up. My knees ached. I must have walked a long way. Or maybe it was the cold floor I had slept on. Crawling on my buttocks, I rested my back against the wall. I felt like crushing my head just to rid myself of the headache. It

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-25940350419714883132008-08-18T00:27:00.000-07:002008-08-18T00:32:54.398-07:00

If you think the corner seat on a bus with bad or no leg room during a 10-hour journey was bad enough, add to it bumpy roads, middle of nowhere, cold weather and claustrophobia. I would have preferred an Iron Maiden. At least death would have been faster. It was well past midnight and it was getting worse with every passing minute. The guy who sat in front of me had just decided that it was

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-49356788332522734502008-07-31T03:25:00.000-07:002008-11-13T15:59:55.740-08:00

It is my second month in the new firm. I have become familiar to a lot of people and they have become familiar to me. There comes a colleague of mine, a familiar and ‘pretty’ woman who shared an hour-long conversation with me in the cab just 12 hours back. I have rehearsed my greeting at least a couple of times over in my head. The smile is pasted neatly from ear to ear. The words are almost off

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-31712008118542314362008-07-01T23:53:00.001-07:002008-11-13T15:59:55.917-08:00

The tea was getting cold. An old melody fought to freedom from the dusty Panasonic cassette player. The occasional tap of his feet seemed to acknowledge the fight; and maybe even inspire it. But Vivek’s attention was wandering beyond all that. The road in front of him lay like a memory from a dream he’d often dreamt. It was a funny road – the road of his dreams. Every dream began at the same

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-53085534418162359492008-04-16T06:12:00.000-07:002008-11-13T15:59:56.179-08:00

Spending nights on an empty stomach had become a habit to Pearl. She had been going through the same drill ever since she had joined the organization. She never complained. She just maintained her unwavering candle-like silence. Selfless, nonchalant and unassuming; but deafening nevertheless to the open mind.The peon had switched off the lights. Darkness. Only dots of light on monitors fought on.

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-29544272824887200902008-04-14T04:29:00.000-07:002008-11-13T15:59:56.348-08:00

Over time, we have explored and identified every possible damage that a cigarette can cause to one’s health. As a result of constant research, we have run out of hazards and more importantly, the world has heard and had enough. So, do we give up now? No. A big blatant NO. Why? Because we are TBWA. We don’t give up. We disrupt.I am new to TBWA and hence unfamiliar with the intricacies of the

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-4076337234739010062008-04-07T01:45:00.001-07:002008-11-13T15:59:56.625-08:00

The stone is bleeding, tears deepen the woundThe laughter is vague like a forgotten dreamFading footsteps murder the last godPatient walls hear the death of the screamA fourth finger burns inside a silver hoopThe holy witness closes melancholy eyesEternal etchings look stupid and humanStranger than truth are but those sensual liesThe fallen angel smirks at the broken heartAs the masochist laughs

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-35465085719042862982008-04-04T03:53:00.000-07:002008-11-13T15:59:57.012-08:00

the invisible wall as tall as the sky...-----------------------------------The verandah, as mentioned earlier, was a dark dungeon with immense possibilities. To overcome the fear, we engaged ourselves in a variety of discussions. It varied from rain drops and umbrellas to live-in relationships and poetry. It is again interesting how alcohol can dissect a lot of otherwise meaningless phrases and

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-66493053807009857682008-04-03T02:35:00.001-07:002008-11-13T15:59:57.182-08:00

this is as much as I have of him...---------------------------------Thomas, the owner of our resort, is what you could call a modern-day Robinson Crusoe. He was a Goan by birth. He had come to Coorg for business. He had never left there since. He was married to a Coorgie lady, had a wonderful daughter, and is the most self sufficient man I have every met till date.The same darkness that

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-81468820535273362942008-03-29T01:19:00.000-07:002008-11-13T15:59:57.256-08:00

boulevard of mended dreams...The first harbinger of the eventful journey ahead welcomed us in form of a construction barricade. The road was dug up so badly, we got the feeling that we’d reentered Bangalore. Well, it wasn’t so. After seeking directions from a surprisingly friendly cop, we continued.Within less than a kilometer of traveling, the fifth passenger, hangover by name, woke up and was

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-42697542488358375152008-03-18T23:23:00.000-07:002008-11-13T15:59:59.008-08:00

I left Carnival at midnight. I was high. I was happy. I was satiated. I had a heavy mind to distract. A lost religion to reclaim. A life to look ahead to. I had done all that.Carnival is a small and inexpensive bar in the heart of a pub-infested brigade road. Since advertising guys are underpaid contrary to perception, it was a favourite resort to many a creative mind. It was a colleague’s

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-9582888754397961342008-01-29T04:56:00.001-08:002008-11-13T15:59:59.317-08:00

The clock is merciful and hence I did smokeThe first puffs in my veins, made me act like a jokeI rush to the toilet and count the tilesThose nine hours to me were a cool million milesMy mind tells me to go a little furtherThe body however, craves rum and coke togetherShould I venture to new grounds with my evening alcohol,Or stick to the tested and crawl up the wallColleagues are chatting and

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-89915110542864479792008-01-29T03:16:00.001-08:002008-11-13T15:59:59.879-08:00

The man from the bank doesn’t look like coming,Is he sitting at his desk and doing all his summing?A brand new month is fast approaching,And poverty is all set to start encroaching.Liquor and cigarettes and expensive food,Have drained all my money, my brother, dear dude.I wanted some cocktails and took down a recipeAnd summoned some grapes, and some snack that was crispy.I won’t smoke till the

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-71908636876324227072008-01-29T02:56:00.000-08:002008-11-13T15:59:59.997-08:00

The electrons are flowing fast and free,The watchman has got the office key.The stairs are void of cigarettes and speech,The cabins have people with one chair each.Laughing and singing and working at times,But lazy to the core when compared to wind chimes,The mail from the boss was sarcastic to the point,It made one colleague want to light up a joint.A lady is quitting to take care of her kid,I

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-21748681038953973612008-01-28T02:15:00.000-08:002008-11-13T16:00:00.158-08:00

Introduction: Well, this one is inspired by Scott Adams, the creator of the Dilbert strip. In one of his recent blogs, he had discussed the idea of his readers putting down random rhyming lines which made some or no sense. I did my share of two and posted them. And then, on further contemplation, I realised - but why 2, and not 14? And therefore I wrote twelve more. I have not enjoyed as much

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-1168003954412295412007-01-05T05:32:00.000-08:002007-01-05T05:33:47.656-08:00

daring to dream??Deafened by your screams I am deafened by your screamsThat I can’t see the truth coz I’m blinded by my dreamsI’m in love with the darkness that’s scaring you away,My night is as bright as the dawn of everydayThe noose around my neck tightened as I crawled alongthe ink was so green as they wrote my sorry songI walked to a dream only visible to me,They thought I was lost and

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-1168003803872450492007-01-05T05:30:00.000-08:002007-01-05T05:31:58.810-08:00

how ironic?Life is staring at your blank face,the smile is not an honest onethe one that shone in all its gracelook again, it's a hidden punyour misery is what it's laughing atyour tears seem to fuel the joywhat's that life's got against youit's yours after all, why seek and destroythe brat smiles onjust as you’re getting to termsan obstacle course waits around the turnthe veins are tight and

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-1162285344077242662006-10-31T01:02:00.000-08:002006-10-31T01:10:00.166-08:00

at least get the ball right! Me: Are you a football fan?He: Yes.Me: Which club do you follow?He: Chelsea.Me: Why?He: They have so many stars and moreover, they won the premiership title for two consecutive years.Me: Who is your favorite Chelsea player?He: Frank Lampard. He was the runner up at

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-1159241658437642352006-09-25T20:34:00.000-07:002006-09-25T20:37:01.833-07:00

the glint...He sat on the bench and looked around. It was only 9.00 am but there were still a few people walking. He opened his school bag and felt the inside pocket. Through the lining the rustling sound of the crisp notes made him want to take it out and count it one more time. Just then a dog ran towards him wagging its tail. He wondered if he should feed it a biscuit from his snack box. But

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-1155200182539869722006-08-10T01:56:00.000-07:002006-08-10T02:01:52.786-07:00

the sweetest thing!If I say that my life has changed dramatically over the last six months, I wouldn't be lying - because it has. I had been drinking and I had been doping,I had been whoring, I had a huge loan to pay off, I had a few habits to get rid of, I had more than a debt to see off... and I had a huge hollow to fill up. It was not that I loved being in such a dilemma. It had become a

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-1154668911882201652006-08-03T22:21:00.000-07:002006-08-03T22:39:07.993-07:00

the destiny is ours!A small write-up I did for a community I believe in with a lot of passion and conviction. Though the community failed to do its purpose of uniting a cult of dreamers, I think it brought out the best piece of writing that my keyboard has produced. I probably am a little biased about this - because I had nothing else but my heart to put down in words as I sat down to write

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-1154535953133067452006-08-02T09:25:00.000-07:002006-08-02T09:27:42.410-07:00

it is not a walk in the park...As population rises faster than mercury on a summer afternoon, there are few things that tag along. The need for food, the need for shelter, and not to be left behind, the need for more parking spaces.Like everything else that is proportionally growing with population, parking spaces have their own methods of influencing day-to-day life. For instance, take my case

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-1154362369560807012006-07-31T09:12:00.000-07:002006-07-31T09:12:49.613-07:00

Coming soon...'Freedom is my birthright and I've had it!' 

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-1147771662043019122006-05-16T02:27:00.000-07:002006-05-16T02:29:29.520-07:00

all is greek...Among the religions I have lost, punctuality is distinctly placed on the top of a long and happening list. As a result, I walked into the office an hour late. It had only been a month since I had joined and I had already used up all my excuses. When I say that I have used up all my excuses, please do not underestimate my imagination. I regard myself highly when it comes to

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-1146653905170735842006-05-03T03:58:00.000-07:002006-05-03T04:50:37.430-07:00

run Forrest, run...One thing in me that amuses people, and generates a lot of curiosity, is my passion for hopping jobs. I am not sure whether I can blame them for this strange interest they show in me. I am currently on my 8th job in just over a year and strongly contemplating yet another switch. However, I have persuaded my CV into stating that my current job is only my third. As it is

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-1146304911729905622006-04-29T03:01:00.001-07:002006-04-29T03:08:11.416-07:00

death doesn't have a pretty face...I saw her for the first time while I was climbing up the stairs. She was rushing downstairs. She paused at my sight, hesitated for a moment, and brushed past me. She had been up to something – something unpleasant; and she had been spotted. The expression of guilt and anguish on her face had given her away mercilessly. Neither the perpetual innocent look nor

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-1145441623421098212006-04-19T03:13:00.000-07:002006-04-19T03:33:22.856-07:00

thank you for calling ...note: Except for the title of this article, it has absolutely nothing to do with Chetan Bhagath’s book. On the other hand I feel that this has more meat than the one by him, as this is more factual than his cooked up work. Wholly my perspective, arguments not welcome yet again! A call center to me would be what the church of Satan would be to a catholic. I

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-1145263569077056102006-04-17T01:46:00.000-07:002006-04-17T01:49:12.333-07:00

that's me in the corner...It’s been nine months since I have been in this city. Looks like I have become immune to the hands of the clock and the flipping pages of a calendar. I have become immune to time. To justify, I am still finding it hard to digest the fact that it’s nearly been a year since Delhi saw the last of me. Good riddance, we’d both say!Apart from time, the other thing that has

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-1137502754857583302006-01-17T04:59:00.000-08:002006-01-17T05:10:19.026-08:00

Haven't tried my hand at poetry in a long time (since I broke up with my first girl). Well, now that my job demands it, Ihave no go.To the desire that drove us through joy and sorrowTo the hope that promised us a better tomorrowTo the ambition that showed us light all the wayTo the trust that helped us through night and dayTo the one thing that made all that happenTo the many ups that followed

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10847713.post-1136351426243462172006-01-03T21:10:00.000-08:002006-01-03T21:18:14.823-08:00

the chosen one!December is an extremely cold month in Bangalore. The perspiration beads on his forehead did not seem to bother. Well, they had every reason to be there. After all, he was going to pick a girl up. Yes, a girl. Not just any girl, but the girl. It was a special occasion. His friends had come down from the neighbouring town. He had always been an entertaining host, the taurean in him

phoenikhshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09549449100672562337noreply@blogger.com12