FARMING UNCONTROLLED

Namaskaram Readers. I'm back after a longggg exam-ridden hiatus. A little more about the exams maybe later. But I have to tell you, there's something that kept me going through those stressful study material-filled days, and page and printout infested nights...if you're on Facebook, you're most probably already hooked onto it. If you're not on Facebook, say hello to FarmVille.

Well, I'm not gonna spend too much time explaining the game to those who don't know what FarmVille is. Basically, it's a game in which you grow crops and trees, rear animals, etc. In the process, you get lotsa cash, get to decorate your farm, and get to expand your farm. You gain experience, and you reach various levels, which determines which crops you get to grow, and what you're allowed to buy.

I'm kinda addicted to the game now, and so are a few of my MBA classmates. I know I;m addicted. If you're not sure you're addicted, here's presenting a few pointers..

You're a Farmville Addict if...

1. Your Finance professor is talking "Portfolio" and you're already thinking "43 Trees, 21 chicken, 7 goats...."
2. Another professor talks 'expansion' and you're already dreaming of a bigger farm
3. You look at everyone who's on Facebook as a potential "neighbour", and you don't mind inviting even people you don't like that much
4. You've decided that you're going to adopt a child. And you've even decided the name - it's gonna be either "Pink Cow" or "Brown Cow"
5. Your dream home looks like a brown cottage or a manor. If you're not aiming too high, it might look like a barn or even a chicken coop.
6. Your resume reads like this - Name: CRD, XP: 31124, Level: 27, Achievements: Farm Size 22 x 22, 2 Grain Silos, 3 Tombstones, Tractor-Seeder-Harvester Trio, etc...
7. Your idea of gifts to friends is an "animal topiary", or "hay bales"...
8. You plan on gifting your sweetheart a naughty birthday gift...naw, not lingerie...a banana tree
9. You have dreams of smoothly cruising on a wipe open road, with the wind blowing through your hair.........................on your pink tractor
10. Your idea of getting back at people who've dissed you is deciding not to fertilize their farm

Cheers

CRD

NO MERCY

The wagon came to a screeching halt right in front of the huge palace gates. Twelve stood guard. He remembered the days he used to guard these very gates. He got off and stood with his chin held high, gawking at the splendour and majesty of the spotless white palace outer walls. The palace was huge, and he knew none could ever match this one.

He once lived here. He had to know...

The guards frowned as he walked past them. They knew they weren't supposed to be mean, but they couldn't help it. But then again, they reckoned it was okay to be mean once in a while, more so with this uninvited visitor.

The Uninvited Visitor...

He walked past a million of them. He used to be one of their kind. He used to be one of them. He was an outcast now.

The Outcast...

Walking past the palace gardens and courtyard, he encountered a thousand glares and angry stares. He didn't mind it. He was used to it now. It didn't make him wince one bit. On the contrary, he felt a sense of power.

Power...the same power that gave him the courage to look at the master in his face...the same power that seduced him to the great fall from grace.

As he entered the visiting area and sat himself on the huge satin-cushioned chair meant for Guests of Honour, he looked around at the cordon that was awaiting the arrival of the master.

A few minutes later, one of them announced the entry of the "Master" and they all bowed down in unison.

Not him...he wouldn't bow anymore.

Unless of course the "Master" welcomed him back to the fold.

The Master came out to a loud welcome from his servants. He walked briskly to his huge chair, opposite the Guest chair. Without looking even once at the Outcast, he said with disdain.

"I have just 2 minutes. Tell what what it is that brings you here once again."

"Here's the list of all those who've been convicted this quarter. Its been quite a task. Lots of guilty ones these days."

"Well, with you around..."

"Sire, I'm just doing my job."

"Of course, of course. You do enjoy your job don't you?"

"If you could be a little less harsh on me, I'm only doing a surveillance job. I'm more like a law enforcer, ready to swoop on anyone who goes against your will. Am I not still serving you this way?"

The Master looked away, "Is that all?"

"What about the Amnesty I requested for? How long before I get it?"

"You really think you're going to get it? You don't deserve it"

"I don't? I've served you for ages...All I do is commit one so-called 'mistake', and I'm banished for life? You forgive those newbies inspite of their hundred misdoings before finally deciding to crack a whip on them, and I get no chance for redemption at all? Is that Justice?"

"You were never supposed to make a mistake. You knew that didn't you?"

"No redemption for me? No amnesty?"

The Master simply got up and walked away without saying a word. Three guards quickly walked towards the Outcast and with their eyes, showed him the way out.

The Outcast took a long walk out of the palace. He stepped into his waiting wagon, and like always, made a promise to himself to prove it one day to the Master, that he is not the most undeserving. More convictions the next time, he decided, and revised his targets.



Its not easy being the Devil. And its never easy to negotiate with God.

The Devil gets no Mercy.

Now Playing : Iron Maiden - Hallowed Be Thy Name

Im waiting in my cold cell when the bell begins to chime
Reflecting on my past life and it doesnt have much time
Coz at 5 o'clock they take me to the gallows pole
The sands of time for me are running low

When the priest comes to read me the last rites
I take a look through the bars at the last sights
Of a world that has gone very wrong for me
Can it be there's some sort of error
Hard to stop the surmounting terror
Is it really the end, not some crazy dream?

Somebody please tell me that I'm dreaming
It's not so easy to stop from screaming
But words escape me when I try to speak
Tears flow but why am I crying?
After all I'm not afraid of dying
Dont I believe that there is never an end?

As the guards march me out to the courtyard
Somebody calls from a cell, "God be with you"
If there's a God, why has he let me die?
As I walk all my life drifts before me
And though the end is near I'm not sorry
Catch my soul coz its willing to fly away

Mark my words, believe my soul lives on
Please don't worry now that I have gone
I've gone beyond to seek the truth
When you know that your time is close at hand
Maybe then you'll begin to understand
Life down there is just a strange illusion.

Hallowed Be Thy Name
Hallowed Be Thy Name...

This song is about a prisoner who's being sent to the gallows. He's probably been wrongfully convicted. He reflects about his past life, and regrets having placed faith in divinity. He goes through a myriad of emotions, experiencing both fear, and also claiming he's not scared of death. The song ends with him being executed, but not before he says "The Lord's Prayer" in earnest hope of an Afterlife.

Cheers
CRD

KSHAN

This is about "Kshan" - a Private Limited Co which my very good friend Tarun Makhija is associated with. It is a helpline service for those who require blodd during emergencies. Its much better than the usual blood donation drives, because this one actually helps connect those in need and donors through a helpline. Do have a look and support it if you identify with the cause.

Kshan - a 24x7 service which connect patients in need of blood to volunteering blood donors using smart SMS technology Few of us have been working on Kshan a concept that was initiated about 3 years back by a bunch of motivated students and young professionals in Mumbai. Kshan is now envisioned to be a 24x7 service which will help connect patients in need of blood during emergencies to a large group of volunteering blood donors using smart SMS technology.
smsGupShup, India fastest growing mobile community platform is supporting us in our SMS technology needs.

There are 3 beliefs driving this initiative:
Cutting edge SMS technology can be used effectively to help connect volunteering blood donors directly with patients in need of blood There is a pressing need to support patients who need blood transfusion throughout their entire lives e.g., thalassemics, haemophiliacs, anaemicsIn an ideal world, patients should not be required to pay for blood that has been donated.
We are addressing all these points in our effort and are currently operational in Mumbai with reasonable success so far. (http://www.kshan.org/images/times_of_india.jpg)
But the mission is to get this model to work across India - in major cities. We need your help to spread the word on this. Following are the 3 ways you can get involved and make a difference.

1. If you are based in India, would be much appreciated if you could register as a donor HERE. You will receive a SMS request every time someone close to your location is in need of blood. We will provide the patients contact information to you and you will touch base with them directly, only if you have the time to volunteer. We are only "connecting" a potential donor to the patient in need of blood. Nothing more! Visit http://www.kshan.org/ to read more.

2. Click on this LINK to share Kshan's donor registration page in your Facebook account and encourage your India network to register as donors there.

3. We are looking to engage student bodies/societies. We need a lot of active blood donors to make this a success and we will find such volunteers only in colleges. So let me know if you have any ideas/introductions you can help me with please!

Follow Kshan on Twitter
Follow Kshan on Facebook Causes

PAINKILLER

This is something I and a fellow-blogger, Shruti aka Shane, who's also a dear friend, co-wrote sometime in July. Just thought I'd post it here since the traffic at the blog I posted it on was'nt very encouraging. I reckoned it'd get a little more readership here, as it deserves. Here goes..

The pain was still there. Her whole body ached. So did her heart. Every time she would see the marks on her body, she would feel filthy. The pain was taking a toll on her.

She went back to the dressing table and pulled out the drawer. The three pills were still there. All three in different colours and shapes. Painkillers. She'd bought three different types just to find out which one worked best for her. Got them without a prescription. Money buys everything.

Except happiness.

He came home late at night, 1 a.m. to be precise. Drunk as usual. He yelled out for dinner. He wasted half of it. She silently cleaned the mess. He switched on the television and played it all full volume while she went to bed. He came back an hour later, and tried waking her up. He slapped her when she didn't wake up the first time. She was aware that it was time for him to feed on her. He tore off her night gown and made LUST to her. He stunk of cheap liquor. And then he fell asleep, while she wept bitterly. She wept pain…dismay…

He was a pain.

She opened her eyes only to see him lying in bed like a monster. His arms dirtied with the lust, his mind sickened of rape and his breath choked with stink. It was all suffocating for her. Tormenting, to be precise. She put his body aside, covered hers with the sheet and walked to the dressing table. She popped one of the pills. The pain barely subsided.

The next night he came home a little early. But he was drunk again. He had a CD in his hand. He pushed away the dinner she had set out and spread out a cheap bar on the dinner table. He played the CD. Hardcore Porn. He drooled. She went to bed in disgust. He followed her in an hour later. She pretended to be asleep when she noticed the wild look in his eyes. He sat himself on the bed and barked her an order to wake up. She pulled up the sheets. He slapped her and pulled her up. He tried on her what he saw on the CD. He was rough. He was violent. He hurt her. She writhed in pain.

He was a pain.

As always, when he was in his wild dreams of the tutorial he saw on the CD, she covered her bleeding body with the sheet again and walked to the dressing table. She popped another pill. This one worked slightly better than the one she had last night. But the pain still remained.

Tonight he came home pretty early. This time he wasn't drunk. He told her he needed 2lakhs in cash, and that she should fetch it from her parents. She refused. He pulled out the thick leather belt that held his trousers and began whipping her. She screamed in pain. He didn't stop. She begged him to stop. He didn't.

She grabbed a half-empty whiskey bottle lying on the dinner table and smashed it on his temple. He dropped down. He wasn't moving. She grabbed another bottle and smashed it in his face. She loved the way his blood slowly travelled along his skin. That skin which had been anything but pure. She was in love with him…. But in love with the dead him!

She went to her dressing table, pulled out the drawer and picked up the last pill. She walked back to the still body, picked up a bottle of rum, popped the pill, and took a swig from the bottle. She swept the hair off her face.

The pain was gone...probably forever.

She'd finally found a Painkiller that worked.

Shruti aka Shane & CRD

JAWAAB DO

Mehkhaane Se Bhi Zyaada,
Saraab Hai Tera Mujhpar,
Ke Khwaab Dekhta Hun,
Main Hosh Mein Bhi Rehkar...

Kuch Yun Tadpaati Ho Tum,
Ki Behlaata Sharaab Nahin,
Sau Lafzon Ke Sau Khat Bheje Hain,
Ab Tak Koi Jawaab Nahin

Har Roz Ki Tarah Kal,
Ek Tohfa Bheja Tumko,
Tumne Bhi Kal Palatkar,
Ek Tohfey Se Nawaaza...

Kaantey Thay Tere Tohfey,
Koi Mehektey Gulaab Nahin,
Sau Lafzon Ke Sau Khat Bheje Hain,
Ab Tak Koi Jawaab Nahin

Main Diljala, Phir Kyun Sazaa?
Meri Tadap Par Kyun Mazaa?
Haskar Sitam Kyun Dhaati Ho?
Mujhse Kyu Duur Jaati Ho?

Jaley Pe Marham Maltey Hain,
Chidaktey Tezaab Nahin,
Sau Lafzon Ke Sau Khat Bheje Hain,
Ab Tak Koi Jawaab Nahin

Har Pal Zubaan Par Dua Hai,
Mujhse Judaa Mera Khuda Hai,
Na Sunta Hai Woh Haal-e-Zaar,
Karke Laachaar, Gumshuda Hai...

Ho Tum Hi Mera Khuda, Aur Khuda Ki Hi Tarah,
Tumhein Mere Zakhmon Ka Hisaab Nahin,
Sau Lafzon Ke Sau Khat Bheje Hain,
Ab Tak Koi Jawaab Nahin...


P.S. - I SOOO Hate The Days I Write Poems...

Now Playing -> Fuzon - Aankhon Ke Saagar

BACK TO SQUARE ONE...

Its back to where it all began once again. I feel the same uneasy feeling I had during the first few weeks since I first met them.

I feel like a stranger in their midst.

Even if there's a conversation happening, I feel completely left out. That vibe and connection that was so strong only a few weeks ago has suddenly vanished.

If I have something to say, they don't seem to be listening.

They don't tag me along for tea anymore, and if I ask them, they keep me waiting.

My jokes aint funny anymore..I really miss their guffaws. They only laugh when I say something serious nowadays.

Some of them always have something nasty to say about me...I guess I'm to blame...I've been too much of a clown. No one takes me seriously anymore.

Its back to where it all started. I can't be my usual self till I'm sure that I'm accepted. That sense of belonging has faded a wee bit.

The sad thing is that in a few months, we will all go on to separate paths. Maybe we'll never see each other again.

Sometimes I remember those happy times we shared, and think how lucky I've been. At other times, I wonder why I always break the vow I made to myself a little more than a year ago - a vow not to make friends or emotional attachments ever again.

Is this why they say "Familiarity breeds contempt" ?

BLIND LOVE

The Cafeteria was crowded, as usual. I was sitting, aimlessly, sipping on my Cuppa, when I saw them descending the staircase. She gently tip-toed her way down, and he followed right after her, matching her steps, helping her negotiate the descent. He had one strong arm around her waist, and the other hand was holding her arm, firmly, yet gently. As soon as the last step was conquered, he whispered something into her ear, and she let out an endearing laugh. Then she whispered back to him, and he smiled. A few arm-in-arm slow steps later, they were seated at the table next to mine.

Between sips, I dared to glance at the couple. the girl was really pretty. Her skin was glowing and spotless, her hair fringed and bearing a tinge of auburn. A few tufts settled on her face like kiss-curls. Her nose was petite and cute. And here eyes...oh...those eyes...

But the guy...he was a stark contrast to the heavenly creature seated next to him. He was  stout, and seemed quite clumsy. His fingers were short and stubby. His face was full of craters and acme. The stubble looked anything but manly, and he was almost completely bald. The buck-teeth didn't make him look any better. But they were smiling...they both were smiling and whispering sweet nothings to each other.

Her eyes....

I noticed something strange about her eyes. They could never quite focus on the guy's face. Maybe his face really was quite detestable. They either stared straight into the horizon, or stayed fixed on the table under them. Those eyes...

Two minutes later, I knew better.

She was BLIND...How I wished that she wasn't.

The cacophony around me suddenly caught my attention.

A few tables away, a group of girls was looking in the direction of a gym-sculpted, body-hugging t-shirt wearing dude, drooling and giggling. 

Somewhere else, a group of guys ogled shamelessly at a "campus-babe", who was generously flaunting well-toned thighs and cleavage. She, in turn, seemed to be enjoying the attention, and smirked to herself.

At another table, a girl was telling her other girl-pals about this innocent geek who admired her, and describing the things he had done for her. They were laughing at how "dumb" he was.

Then I looked back at the table next to me.

The guy was holding a spoonful of the soup he had just ordered to the girl's mouth. She sipped. Then she groped for his hand, and when she'd found it, she kissed it. He smiled through his buck-teeth once again. 

A thought occurred to me. 

Somehow, this time, I was glad that she was Blind.