Neurotron
http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?blogId=28
Welcome to the Machine - not of this world, not long for it either.
Neurotron2023-08-15T16:23:16ZReincarnation
http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?op=ViewArticle&articleId=2931&blogId=28
Incredible.<br />
My last post was more than two and a half years ago. And I'm currently on the most visited blogs list?? Hilarious! <br />
<br />
After those heady days of a great blog community on fullhyd, I return to find these hallowed halls populated with hotteenmodelsnude, hifiescorts, and the like. What a fall from grace.<br />
<br />
How ironic I should find myself here again today, and blogging - I was just reading an article on reincarnation in Bollywood.<br />
<br />
:-)<br />
General2007-10-31T20:40:50ZNeurotronCmon, its time to go...
http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?op=ViewArticle&articleId=1521&blogId=28
<i> There is no pain, you are receding...</i><br />
<br />
This blog rests.<br />
For how long...is uncertain.<br />
General2005-02-22T09:45:36ZNeurotronRock Show
http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?op=ViewArticle&articleId=1504&blogId=28
Come Friday evening, Feb 18th 2005 at 6 p.m., <strong>Microtone</strong> will be performing at Nizam College, as part of the festival "<i>Expressions</i>".<br />
The band was last seen at Carpe Diem, CBIT, last year, where they came as a surprise package, playing songs nobody ever thought they would get to hear on stage in Hyderabad.<br />
Now Microtone is all geared up, with a new member on vocals and guitars, and set to kick some ass...again.<br />
Be there! And I can guarantee, we'll play you stuff never heard before live in Hyderabad!<br />
<br />
Last heard, Native Tongue have also agreed to play and headline the event, and take the Alternative Rock revolution further.<br />
<br />
Viva La Revolution!<br />
<br />
You <i>know</i> ya gotta be there.<br />
General2005-02-17T12:04:38ZNeurotronWhere do the children play?
http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?op=ViewArticle&articleId=1490&blogId=28
<i><br /><strong>Where Do The Children Play?</strong><br /><br />Well I think it's fine, building jumbo planes. <br />Or taking a ride on a cosmic train. <br />Switch on summer from a slot machine. <br />Get what you want to if you want, 'cause you can get anything. <br /> <br />I know we've come a long way, <br />We're changing day to day, <br />But tell me, where do the children play? <br /> <br />Well you roll on roads over fresh green grass. <br />For your lorryloads pumping petrol gas. <br />And you make them long, and you make them tough. <br />But they just go on and on, and it seems you can't get off. <br /> <br />Oh, I know we've come a long way, <br />We're changing day to day, <br />But tell me, where do the children play? <br /> <br />When you crack the sky, scrapers fill the air. <br />Will you keep on building higher <br />'til there's no more room up there? <br />Will you make us laugh, will you make us cry? <br />Will you tell us when to live, will you tell us when to die? <br /> <br />I know we've come a long way, <br />We're changing day to day, <br />But tell me, where do the children play? <br /><br /> - Cat Stevens (now known as Yusuf Islam), from Footsteps in the Dark<br /></i><br /><br />I must have heard this album when I was 4 or 5 years old. Cat Stevens is a hugely underrated songwriter in the league of Bob Dylan and Jim Morrison, and the simple music is salve for the soul, though, regrettably, nowhere near as well known. Songs we sing happily today, like 'Father and Son' by Boyzone (ugh), or 'Wild World' by Mr. Big, were originally by this man. The song that captured my imagination then was the first track on the album called 'The Wind', and I absolutely love it even today. The song that I really <i>understand</i> today is this one above. These sounds remind me of days more carefree, of laughter, and lessons learnt on the playground. <br /><br />I've lived in the same house all my life, and one of the biggest blessings we have is a playground. I felt an immense sadness about two weeks ago when I saw that the slides, monkey gyms (do kids today even know what those are?) and other play structures I grew up with have been removed. This, by a colony association filled with new people with children of an electronic generation, who are too busy with tuitions and cellphones to be bothered with a change like this. <br /><br />Those play structures were the last standing visual representations of a community that grew up together; sentinels of simpler, happier times. Now the whole park had been laid with grass, with a track around it, and benches where elderly people who use them about twice a month can sit. Mounds have been introduced in the name of aesthetics, effectively removing chances of playing a decent game of cricket or football. An additional pang was brought on by the realisation that the secretary of the colony association now is my father.<br /><br />I remember a time when I was 3 or 4, and we kids were playing at one end (the park is rectangular, about 60 metres X 20 metres). The bigger boys were playing football over the rest of the ground, and my father would stand between them and us. If the ball came anywhere near us, they got a tongue lashing. Those were also days when teenagers respected people older than them (I think this is one of the greater losses of our society today), so the boys would try their best to not kick the ball too hard if they were near us. We <i>bachchaas</i> learnt so much just sliding down the <i>jaarabandas</i>, and climbing on various old-fashioned solid cast iron structures. <br /><br />Then, at about age 7 or 8, we would hang around the older boys, hoping to be asked to join them. Then we join their sports and are treated like the kids we are. Then as you score more goals and runs, fall down and pick yourself up again, you earn respect and the right to participate in team decisions. So many bonds built over cut lips, intense sporting rivalries, fights, and patch-ups. Then <i>you</i> become one of the 'older' boys and take on the responsibility of taking care of the young children playing on the slides and monkey bars. <br /><br />The lessons learnt on a playfield are of incalculable value to a child, boy or girl. It saddens me deeply to see the children of today hooked to their computers, the internet, online gaming and their cellphones, at an age when they should be out there getting their knees scraped and their hands dirty. In building our concrete jungles, we have forgotten to leave space for green pastures where childhood lessons and memories can be planted and nurtured. Then, we go further and remove the very instruments of learning that we built social skills and broke teeth on.<br /><br />Tell me, father, where do the children play now?<br />General2005-02-14T09:36:46ZNeurotronStill
http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?op=ViewArticle&articleId=1455&blogId=28
Tonight, memories nurture the pain<br />
And still, black falls the rain<br />
I fight hard, yet lose<br />
As it was, so it still is<br />
Strangely both better and worse<br />
And still, regrettably,<br />
That deep welt my heart doth stain<br />
<br />
Words fail both you and I<br />
A strange alchemy this,<br />
That turns gold to stone<br />
A conversion infernal<br />
A strange promised land this,<br />
Where springs deemed eternal<br />
Are doomed to run dry<br />
<br />
May the rivers you cry<br />
One day shatter the stone<br />
May the cracks bleed you dry<br />
Of despair, like I have known<br />
May the streaked cheeks shine<br />
Like your eyes at my song<br />
On this day,<br />
May you be reborn.<br />
<br />
<i>Happy Birthday</i><br />
General2005-01-31T11:26:22ZNeurotronChewths
http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?op=ViewArticle&articleId=1437&blogId=28
I seem to have a serious problem pronouncing the D in ‘Madam’ – I just can NOT bring myself to say it.<br />
<br />
Even if I absolutely have to, I feel the urge to go yackthooo after saying it that way. And if that wasn't bad enough, it has to be pronounced 'meydum'. If I don't say it, I run the risk of being thought of as ‘posh’ or ‘showing off’ or something.<br />
Ugggghhhh.<br />
Thank God for 'gaaru' (the Telugu equivalent of 'ji')<br />
<br />
And then there's <i>mera kaabil dost</i> who is a major fan of mastication. Lunch time is torture. I watch/hear him eat, and its...just...Aaaarrrggghhh!! It's not like watching someone who has something stuck in their teeth - you can just look away. No, no. The sound follows you, like the eyes in a painting. There is no escape. It's always there, gnawing away silently at my brain, distorting perception, till I can almost see the pieces of cauliflower on my plate stand up and march away in orderly lines of two.<br />
<br />
I tried correction by example. Na uh. No use. Then, others join the table. And suddenly it feels like they're ALL doing it! Just to irritate me to death! Aaarrgghh!! No No...get away from me you...you...Chewths! If I were to mention this, trying to put it as delicately as possible, or mention it in a humorous fashion, I'm dead sure the guy will say something sarcastic like 'Oh, UK mein aise karte kya? Hum gareeb log India mein aisi karte bhai...'. And I'll end up the bad guy. I mean, come on! It's not 'posh' or snobbish to have basic table manners. You can sit in your undies and fart till you're floating 3 inches above the ground when you're eating alone. I really couldn't care less. But please have the courtesy to respect other peoples' sensibilities when eating in a group.<br />
<br />
It's not like I'm asking you to wear suits and use 4 fucking sets of cutlery is it?? I'm not even asking for intelligent conversation (I've given up on that), or discussion beyond office gossip and exchanging tips on how to screw the company over in every single teeny weeny way you can, am I?? All I beg of you is that you chew with your...frigging...mouths...shut! That's not too much to ask, is it? If I can do it, why can't you? You're always dying to pull one over me in every other department, when it comes to the job. Go ahead. Knock yerself out.<br />
<br />
But puh-leeeeaaassee. Let me cling desperately to the remaining shreds of my sanity. And listen to the sweet sounds of NOTHING while we eat.<br />
<br />
Thank you.<br />
General2005-01-25T21:59:09ZNeurotronWhere the streets have no names
http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?op=ViewArticle&articleId=1408&blogId=28
They did, in fact, have names.<br />
<br />
It was just that they didn't register to him. He had never been here before, and he was reasonably sure he would never be here again. What would be the point of remembering the names of the streets, he thought. His eyes glazed over at the street corners, as he gazed perfunctorily at the neat little signboards, standing like diligent soldiers who felt mighty responsible about their duties. He looked around at the corner, wondering where he should go now. The streets all looked about the same, and none seemed to beckon him more than any other. They might as well have no names, he thought. He imagined what such a town might be like - where the streets have no names. There was a song, wasn't there? Nice song, that. And he began to hum, slightly off tune, as the song began to play in his head.<br />
<br />
He crossed the road and kept walking straight. He wanted to find the old section of town, with the cobbled streets. Today, he wanted to walk on cobbled streets. He was bored with the straight and narrow and orderly roads. I could live in a place like this, he thought. It's more...alive, somehow.<br />
<br />
It was late afternoon by his watch, but it was also late summer. The sun had reached that uncomfortable angle where it was shining almost straight into his eyes. But he looked around him and life seemed to have slowed down. People who would normally be rushing around seemed to want to stop for a cup of coffee, a bite to eat, a glance at the papers. It was all yellow. It was time to rest a bit, he had walked a fair distance. He walked to the small eatery on the left and smiled at the girl at the counter. She smiled back and took his order. He told her he would be sitting outside, paid for his coffee and baguette, and took the table closest to him. While he waited for his order to arrive, he smiled at the prospect of indulging in his favourite pastime. And there was no dearth of subjects here. He could go about it absolutely unnoticed, and the sun would help him. Life was wonderful. He was still smiling when the pretty girl came to his table with his order. She flashed a shy smile at him and walked back. He turned around and looked for a while, and turned back to the street. Life <i>is</i> wonderful, he thought.<br />
<br />
He took a sip of his coffee, and it burned his tongue a little.<br />
General2005-01-18T11:31:08ZNeurotronHmmm
http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?op=ViewArticle&articleId=1376&blogId=28
Funny how both marriages and sacrifices take place at ‘altars’.<br />
<br />
Just how many levels does that have, eh?<br />
General2005-01-13T15:21:30ZNeurotronKanthri roads.
http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?op=ViewArticle&articleId=1332&blogId=28
<em>Kanthri (Telugu, colloquial) : cheap, bad, of poor quality</em><br />
<br />
It's time for a road trip, dammit.<br />
<br />
Rider Mania '05 - here I come!!<br />
<br />
This weekend is the annual Royal Enfield bikers' meet at Mumbai. People coming in from all over the country, apparently. Yeah, I don't have wunnadem bikes - I have been invited to join a friend of mine. This clarification is for all the brilliant ones who remember my baby Michelle and are wondering if I've already dumped her. Not a chance, baybay.<br />
<br />
I've been wanting to do this for ages. And it was really nice of my friend to invite me, considering I'd known him for, oh about one week. A long ride means long hours in close quarters and constant company. You gotta assess how comfortable you are going to be with the other person being with you all the time. Conversation will inevitably dry up, and you've got to be confident the silences won't get awkward. In any case, this should be one heck of an experience.<br />
<br />
Itinerary:<br />
<br />
Friday, 7th Jan.<br />
5.30 a.m : drive<br />
6 p.m.: reach. drink.<br />
<br />
Saturday, 8th Jan.<br />
Morning: drink.<br />
Afternoon: Lectures (katthe)<br />
Evening: Drink.<br />
<br />
Sunday, 9th Jan.<br />
Morning: drink.<br />
Afternoon: Biker competitions - all sorts <br />
Evening: Drink.<br />
<br />
Monday, 10th Jan.<br />
morning morning: drive back.<br />
evening: reach.<br />
in 15 minutes: pass out.<br />
<br />
Tuesday, 11th Jan.<br />
Afternoon: wake up. Call in sick.<br />
<br />
<br />
I just hope the roads aren't too bad. Last I heard, they were really kanthri.<br />
Now, excuse me while I go put on mah leather jacket, mah glurves, mah boots, mah Ray-Bans, and ride away on a 350cc - powered mass of mahasexy metal. <br />
<br />
Oh yeah!<br />
General2005-01-03T21:23:47ZNeurotronGaias revenge
http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?op=ViewArticle&articleId=1318&blogId=28
<p>Gaia's bloody pissed off.<br /><br />She's rumbled from deep within and with one tidal wave has shown her might. We little beings, insignificant in the face of time, absolutely powerless, can only scurry around looking for succour; a shield from the wrath, shelter from the storm.<br /><br />If the earth's entire history is compressed into one year, humanoids make their first appearance on the planet at 10.30 p.m on New Year's Eve. And all of recorded human history begins at 11.59 p.m, December 31st. It's only taken us one minute to do what we've done to the planet. She couldn't have picked a more appropriate time to let us know she isn't too thrilled about it.<br /><br />Think about that when you begin your party-fuelled 60-second countdown this year. And think about what we are all actually counting down to.<br /><br />Ha ha ha!!<br /></p>
<p>It's quite funny, actually, in a macabre, dark humour sort of way...</p>
<p> </p>General2004-12-31T10:56:27ZNeurotron