Subscribe via email

Enter your email address:

Delivered by FeedBurner

Let kids be kids

Thursday, December 18, 2014

You realize the true worth of a vacation once you cross a year of round-the-clock working after your graduation or masters. College life was so cool you say. But time cannot be counter clocked. So it’s always good to spend some valuable time friends, remembering the good old days when you were still kids; that you lost on the very first day of your job. But you always will be a kid from within, no matter what.
Something similar happens to your happily married life once a firstborn child enters your life. You wake up early in the morning to compensate the new responsibilities that deluge your head now. Also the nights when the kid’s whimpers don’t let you sleep all through the night. But still, it is the most you will ever love someone in your life.
As he grows up, even your vacation patterns alter. The family vacations. Kids add magic to your outings. They look at things in their own unusually-loveable ways.
After deciding the vacation budget and a couple of trip ideas, include your kids in it. Younger kids appreciate seeing photos of where you have decided to go and all the fun stuff they are going to do there. You will see excitement on their face from that moment itself.
It is important to provide memories that can be cherished forever by your children. Let them remember you for what good you did not for what you didn’t. The best you can do is let them do whatever they want. Just set them free, running on the open grass, watching butterflies settle on flowers or just sit and fall in love with nature. Give them something they can talk about with their friends after they get back to their classes the next day.
Organized activities amongst the family members while on a picnic or an outing to an amusement park or just anywhere that doesn’t include your daily monotonous schedules. Working parents usually don’t get time to have meals with their kids and this could be a good opportunity for them too. So, don’t forget to carry along the stuff kids love to eat. Also, a chance to get to know each other well. The things they laugh at, things that make them sad, what and how they think and respond to things.
Every time you see him laugh in delectation, you’ll age down to a kid yourself, recharging you to freshness. Seeing him happy, happier you’ll be. Don’t dump anything on them to follow. They are kids, not adults. They are well aware of what makes them joyous.
Every season is a ‘vacation-ful’ season. So don’t let season be a hindrance to their cheerful faces. Stop being an honest traffic policeman. If it starts raining, let them feel the freshness of the monsoon drops on their skin; if it snows, let them get out and make snowman or their snow angels; and let them dance over the sound of the cracking autumn leaves under their feet. Just let them be KIDS.

This post is in response to Indiblogger contest by Teddy Travelouges.

Road Safety

Monday, December 15, 2014

It’s all a wonder how someone perfectly fit and healthy a moment back, turns lifeless after a single crash. Shocking, isn’t it?
Did you know that the first road built in 4000BC was meant to provide a more solid and comfier surface to the wheeled vehicles? And today, there is this one road and it is used by cars, trucks, pony-carts, cyclists and even the pedestrians. Also, there has been a drastic rise in the number of vehicles on road, and in turn, the number of road accidents with negligible or no improvements in the conditions of roads.
The first and the most important thing to be considered is that accidents aren’t a natural calamity. Rather, they are self-caused disasters. One fine morning, you get into your car, eager to go someplace important, probably an interview. There are hopes in your eyes and expectations in the eyes of your parents. All through the distance between your home and the office, you keep thinking of whether or not you’ll bring home the beckon. Way too excited. When suddenly things slip out of your hands and the next moment you open your eyes on a hospital bed. Your parents surrounding you, with tears in their eyes. Calamitous. Way too calamitous. So who is to be blamed for breaking so many hopes?
The only cause of road accidents I could think of is cognitive content. It could either be by avoiding road safety rules, carelessness or escaping away. So here are some of the preventive measures to avoid safety rules to the maximum.
Wear seatbelts. Don’t forget they are your lifebelts.
Don’t forget to park the phone before you drive (yea you heard me right. The phone.) No calls are as important as your lives. Keep that in mind.
Avoid driving during the nights as far as possible.
Do not drink and drive. Save yourself from lifetime regrets if you can.
Drive carefully when children are around. Those innocent souls have seen nothing yet. And they know not what this could lead them to. Also parents should keep an eye on their children when on or near roads. I once read a signboard saying, “Children left unattended will be sold to the circus.” Though sarcastic, it really said a lot. Also, be aware of the stray animals that can often be seen on Indian roads.
Anticipate other people sharing the road with you. Keep your eyes open.
Do not over speed. Remember the promise you made while leaving from home. “Get yourself and kids back alive.”
Road signs are not for showpiece purposes. Follow them.
It is dangerous to tailgate another vehicle. Sudden brakes can take your life in wrong direction.
Overtaking should be done after ensuring full safety.
Check the functioning of headlights before driving at night.
Wrong-sides are the new right-sides these days. Thus leading to a huge loss of life and property.
People driving 2 wheelers should always wear a helmet. What a king is without his crown?
Pedestrians should make use of the zebra crossing before crossing the road. Also, look right, left and right again before crossing.

People often try to run away after crashing into someone, leaving the person half dead on the road. But what if he was rather their own son or brother? Would they still have done the same?
The need of the hour is a promise of no more victims on the roads. Be careful. Think of others. And be a saviour.

In response to Indiblogger and The Nissan Safety Driving Forum.


Saturday, November 29, 2014

Is a person still to be considered good if he doesn’t stand against the wrong or is he a bad guy now? Is he, in any way, to be held responsible for the wrong act being done? If so, are you one of them? Have you once (or much more often) been a silent spectator to the wrongs? Did you care?

Our living has become such a kettle of fish that we hardly care to correct the wrong being done by others. We are the pigeon that closes its eyes thinking that if they cannot see, the cat also won’t be able to see it; or are we the ostrich that buries its head into the sand at the essence of danger; or are we just another busy humans with no time for the things. Likewise, it’s quite embarrassing.

There are no second thoughts that all of us have seen people spit, throw garbage or even pee in public places. But did we ever make an effort to stop them. To make them realize what they have been doing unknowingly. We don’t. Because we know it’s not worth. They won’t listen. Our effort may even backfire. Because we know if we were in their place we would have done the same. As Laurie A. Anderson once said, “It’s easier not to say anything. Shut your trap, button your lip, can it. All that crap you hear on TV about communication and expressing feelings is a lie. Nobody really wants to hear what you have to say.”

But all we have is a voice. It’s not to win over the seminars, or give campaigning speeches or to manipulate and fraud people. Stop dumping things on others to excuse yourself out of the situation. Good can be done. All you need is to initiate the efforts. The verse ‘when you see something wrong, stop it with your hand’ fits aptly here. And I realized it is better to scream sometimes. Silence is the real crime against humanity. At first, they may not care to give ear, but giving up is not a solution. If you are in the middle of a fight, be prepared to lose. But don’t surrender. Giving up is cowardice. And remember, if you cannot convince someone of for the wrong they have been doing unknowingly to you and your surroundings, it’s you who is at defeat, not them. Every time you feel you are at fail, give it just another try. You never really know when the cards shuffle. Just remember, it’s you, and only you, who can make a difference.

“All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.”
--Edmund Burke

This is my post for #AbMontuBolega campaign by Strepsils and Indiblogger.
About the campaign: There are many places that should be cleaned, many people who deserve your attention & authorities who need to hear your opinions! It's time to stop being a silent spectator and raise your voice, making a difference. This campaign aims on just that - Bahut hogayi khamoshi, #AbMontuBolega!
Strepsils on Facebook and Twitter

A touch

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

It was love at first sight. The moment I saw her, I knew she was the one. I stalked her for a week. I confronted. With time, she too fell for me. But now, things are different. Even our kids know that. I know it would have a severe impact on their innocent mind, but I'mI'm helpless. All my efforts to win Divya back are all in vein. It feels like she doesn't care anymote. But I have decided to not to give up until things go back on track. And so I'm taking her to a dinner today. Psss... don't tell her yet.

We have finally reached the restaurant and I stop the car. I ask her to stay inside. I get out and open her side of the door. But seems like it didn't really matter to her. We get in.

I already had a table booked for the two of us. Lights turned off. A candle lit on the table. We take our seats. Wine appears. I pour some for the two of us. Her face glew wonders in the candle light. She looked beautiful as always.

Next appear the dishes. Her favourite ones. We don't talk much. Just the usual blah blahs. I finally come to the topic. I talk everything out. But her response was none. She kept listening. I grabbed her hand and asked her to give things another chance. I proposed her again.

She got up from her chair. I was scared that things would again go in vein. And I didn't want that to happen. I wanted her to know that I have always loved her. Falling in love with her every new moment.

She came closer to me. I thought she'd slap me for creating a scene in the public.

rather, she cleaned the sauce from the side of my lips and said, "I love you too, honey."

For, mentioning the hashtag #BringBackTheTouch.

Home sweet home

They have rightly said that we hate journeys only when we want to go back home and the long distance between us and home is the only thing thats keeping us apart. Home- one of the only places we have loved ever since we were born. Just being at home is the biggest satisfaction in bad times. Sometimes, infact, most of the times, home is the indicator of our standard and lifestyle. A classical, old fashioned home is something people usually don't prefer these days. With all new advancements, unbelievable home accessories are now available.

So without any delay, here's a list of my pick-ups by the Mediterranean Porcelanosa with its all new range in Asia under the luxury brand of #24KLiving.

Just like a face is the indicator of what the condition of a person's stomach is, so is the exteriors to a house. So, without any doubts, my first selection is none other than this Ceramic Façade. Porcelain tile with practically zero water absorption. An ideal cover for just any book. The house appears nothing less than a pearl in the ocean.

Being a student of mechanical engineering, I do understand the need for incorporating of renewable energy systems into building design. With the degradation of non renewable energy resources, heat energy present within the earth's surface can well be utilised for heating the buildings in an efficient and inexpensive way. Why not utilise the burden within the Earth for better purposes? Definitely a must be in my home.

Perfection has a new definition here. Just have a look at this shower column. Now people won't check your waterproof xperia in selfies, rather the shower columns. This flawless column is hust too elegant to take away your eyes from. In engineering terms, the elegance of this shower is inversely proportional to the space occupied by it.

Now just have a look at this. This is just the perfect replacement to the highly valued asset of AVAILABLE SPACE in your home. The perfect layout with various accessories and drawers for proper utilisation of every a bit. Porcelanosa does have a product that can be well integrated with any type and size of space available. Also, they do offer a multitude of styles with different finishes, such as natural or stained wood, matt or polished lacquers and laminates, plus the possibility of combining these options.

These were my top fours for my perfectly perfect house. These people do have some exceptional products in their store for every person wih any kind of requirements. That just a look at the pics may make your smile grow broader and broader. If you have been pondering over gifting something for your beloved home, do have a look at the Porcelanosas.
Official link:

Clean-India initiative

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Congrats fellas, for making India the country with maximum population practicing open defecation. Just 597 million people. That's it!

Defecating alongside the walls of govn. buildings, children glaygrounds, at the rail lines and by the riverside. In short, at every place other than your home. Creating the outside world, a vast toilet. Thats what you have been doing since years. I'm not here to make anyone feel ashamed of defecating in the open (though it's better you do) but to warn you because its not just you who suffers from the unhygienic environment, but me as well. For I share the same soil, air and water as you do.

People may practise open defecation as a matter of cultural or habitual preference or lack of other hygienic choices. Also, I agree, the public toilets may not be so attractive or even hygienic at times. But you do need to keep in mind that it has disastrous effects on the health of you and your family. It may lead to various diseases like diarrhoea and intestinal infections that may be fatal at times. According to the UN, a child dies every two and a half minutes due to issues related to open defecation.

Women are most impacted by it. They face major issues related to health and safety which also impacts their dignity. Rapes and sexual molestations are often faced by women and girls at times. Some may even be kidnapped, looted or even killed due to any unspecific causes.

The need of the hour is to create social awareness of the same amongst all sections of the society, both rich and poor. A change in the mindset of the people is what can serve the purpose. People should understand that the world's a larger home. Every person must understand his duty to keep his HOME clean and healthy. Without eradicating the social norms of open defecation,  the goal cannot be achieved. Praise those who have worked on overcoming these communal norms. Also the government must understand the severity of the issue and provide better sanotation solutions need to be provided. The BPL households must be provided wih toilets under some government run initiattives. Learning from the countries that have achieved a lot of progress over the issue can work wonders if done wishfully.

A lot many welfare initiatives have been made for the same.  Dorex is one of them. You can bring about the change in the lives of millions of kids, thereby showing your support for the Domex Initiative. All you need to do is “click” on the “Contribute Tab” on and Domex will contribute Rs.5 on your behalf to eradicate open defecation, thereby helping kids like Babli live a dignified life.

When he was a kid

Sunday, October 19, 2014

A new baby born. The first offspring of a small-town, middle-class family. For children are but all the same, but for parents, their child is always the most beautiful. And so was this one. He was never laid alongside other infants because he was comparatively healthier and they didn’t want him to be voodooed. He was all that the parents had ever asked of God. Even when he crossed a quarter of a year, still, people could hardly lift him up. The parents were on the 9th cloud when their baby became Lord Krishna in a local temple on Janmashtmi Day. He was in a perambulator, with people serving him butter and crystallized sugar lumps, moving the perambulator and taking his blessings. He resembled Krishna in the lordly dress he was wearing, with a peacock feather at the forehead.
But sooner than later they realized how critical a situation this could lead them to. Excessive butter and sugar made him severely ill. The condition became so critical that he had to be shifted to the hospital in urgency. They straight took him to the emergency ward. In no time, the happiness of the parents was being shattered to the ground.
The hospital belonged to one of the friends of the baby’s father. Doctors kept on for as long as a week with regular checkups and treatments taking place all in time. But unable to make any confirming progress or a bit of good news. Parents’ concerns intensified with every passing moment. Or let us say, the time wasn’t even making a progress at all. The father had a formal talk with the doctor because the baby was getting all pale now. He was suffering from serious constipation that even after 7 eternal days in the ICU, there wasn’t any progress. Parents combated with the doctor for keeping them in dark, blanking out their friendship, for their only child was at stake. Before long, they took him to DMC, one of the most proficient hospitals of the state.
He was again moved to the emergency ward. And while the baby lay unconscious on the hospital bed, getting treatments, parents were losing all hopes of improvement of their kid. His body was getting blue. They cried all day long. The bundle of joy now pivoted from a perambulator to roller coaster.
Inside, the doctors were finding it difficult to even search for a vein in his skinny body, which once was reckoned a healthy mass. And what they did next was injecting a syringe into the brain-vein. He had become thin as a skeleton. And even the tears had dried up by now. “God finally needed him back”, they thought.
Thankfully, the time wasn’t that abominable. Though it took days for meliorations, and though he could never get rid of his skinny image ever after, he got well.

And I never became Krishna ever again…

Posted in response to Liveveda

Happily Murdered Review

Saturday, October 18, 2014

Gulab Sarin, the radiant new daughter-in-law of the influential Mehta family dies mysteriously on the very next night of her wedding. The murder is an inside job, the police is certain. It could be anyone, the adulterous husband, conniving in-laws, jealous friend and the love struck ex-fiancé.
With an aim to save themselves, and incriminate others, it is not love before these suspects turn into amateur detectives, hunting for clues and delving into hidden secrets only they can unearth. They coerce, pry and blackmail in an attempt to get to the bottom of this mystery.
Will one of these nine unlikely sleuths finally unravel the mystery behind Gulab’s death and avenge it? Or will the truth die as viciously as Gulab?

With the murder of Gulab Sarin on the very night of her wedding, suspicions arise against nine of the inhabitants of the Mehta household, where Gulab was married into. With all the suspects having valid enough motives to gain from the murder, they take the matter into their own hands, conducting amateur investigations to try and unmask Gulab’s murderer, in order to protect their own skin, targeting each other, before the inspector handles it his own way.
As the story makes a progress, each character’s relationship with the victim, their history with her, the reasons and finally the forces for them being a possible suspect are wonderfully slipped in. And by the time all stories have been narrated, the reader is arrested into a cobweb of the theories of the crime. As they move forward by leaps and bounds, it recoils them back only to find themselves further struck in.
There’s a lot more to it than just a murder mystery.

Well-crafted plot and story line keep the reader hooked up till the very end.
Wonderful and detailed characterization of quite a mass in a smooth and effective manner. (I really loved watching Tina play the amusing detective.)
A few typos here and there but wonderful narration.
Title and cover were just perfect for the story. A blood seeping from under a bridal dress on a spotless background truly indicates being murdered on the day a girl’s dream comes true.

I couldn’t really find any cons in the story but I do have a few suggestions to the author for there’s always a scope for improvement. And though every reader has his/her own perceptions, I really felt a need of these:
Loved the voice of the writer and so had much expectations in the matter of writing style, specifically. Most of it was well penned but she missed a few gaps midway. Some of the dialogues were a bit flimsy.
Also, I wonder why Gulab came up with her soliloquy in the middle of her murder investigation, narrating her entire story, beginning from her childhood, to… emm... nobody. Had there been a linkage in some form or the other, the beginning would have averted a dubiety. But this in no way implies that it wasn’t any good.  For, her past was the reason of why she has been ‘happily murdered’.

Book Review: Private India

Friday, September 26, 2014

And the long awaited Private series is finally here in India. This time its Ashwin Sanghi teamed up with international bestseller James Patterson. Private is one of the world’s finest detective agencies headed by Jack Morgan worldwide, with Santosh Wagh being its Indian head. Santosh is an ex-police officer with a drinking habit and a disconsolate past. Aided by a team comprising Nisha Gandhe: also an ex-cop turned attractive Private Investigator, Mubeen: the medical expert and Hari being the unusual techie with a yet muscular body.

The story starts with a rather strange murder of a Thai surgeon Kanya Jaiyen in India’s financial capital of Mumbai. Murders follow one after the other; The Afternoon Mirror reporter, School Headmistress, Chief Justice of Mumbai High Court and so on, all strangled with a yellow garrote and surrounded by strange cultural artifacts. As the story proceeds, they discover that the killer is more of a hunter who’s on a killing spree. Apart from bringing out the psychopath and block off any further killings, Santosh needs to save Mumbai from the much larger threats that await him and his team. Not blanking out the part of his dealings with the self. A typical murder mystery with some splattering of the Indian mythology that will definitely keep you guessing till the very end.


Pace of the story: the fast pace of narration well serves its purpose.

Soliloquy: The chapters bearing the killer’s soliloquy further add to the thrill.

Variations in sub plots: not restricted to the main plot with the entry of ISI, Indian Mujahideen and the local Don. A definite page turner having flecks of India’s all time burning bread-and-butter issues including gambling, prostitution, smuggling, terrorism and so on; all happening in the city of Mumbai.

Descriptions: Well researched advanced technologies and the gizmos with all long detailed descriptions for the tyros.

The ending: The mystery was something I couldn’t puzzle out till I just read it. That is how well it has been sketched. And the way Private India, by connecting the dots, traces the killer is amazing.


Unimposing Characterization: Yes, the book is fast paced and though well written, but the characterization? Oh boy. Not even the main characters were any good in making a lasting impact at any point of the story.

And to capitalize the flaws, here we have the Mumbai police giving all the authority to a private agency just like that. Just a request. That’s it! All because the Mumbai Police found themself loaded down with too many responsibilities

Poor research over the Thuggee tribe, which felt more of a wearisome lecture than what it was meant to be.

Despite the minor blemishes that you may pick apart, Private India is an unputdownable, one time read and you won’t break off before its page 448. All in all, it’s a fair read and all you need is to give it a go.

A Postscript: This review is a part of the biggest Book Review Program for Indian Bloggers. Participate now to get free books!


Saturday, September 6, 2014

Not that the days are tiring

Neither are nights short and grey

Count down the points worth admiring

Life has a million reasons to stay

Every human is suffering, crying

Be the cause of someone's hope

Life is the hardest trick

But it still is worth a try

Time will come and pass by

And so will the chances you deny

If only you could break through the spell

For summer's just a day spent well

A Fishy take-off

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Zest along the way

Sunday, July 20, 2014

 Who doesn’t like to travel? Be it a country ride or a long drive with your better half. With increased enthusiasm with every mile crossed, relishing life to the fullest. It doesn’t really matter whether you’re on gear 2 or 4, or if it’s an automatic, all that matters are the things that add spice to the journey. Spice as in the events, people or factors that appear to be agreeably stimulating or mentally exciting. Something that makes even the ill, jump out in joy. Here’s my list of zest adding events:

Belting along a faraway train: There’s absolutely nothing as thrilling in a long journey as racing against a train, rolling on its rail, running parallel to your road to destination. And the smile you get after you win, is just uncomparable.

Photography: Things change. But memories remain intact. Photography is just one of the best invented techniques to keep a memoir of all the memories of a journey. It may be something simple as a lonesome tree, as beautiful as a dancing peacock or something as heavenly as the setting sun.

Reading: Re-reading the books I love. And nothing could feel better than reading romances by Nicholas Sparks on a country ride.

Guitar: I like carrying my guitar wherever I go. I may not be that good at playing it, but still, I love whatever plays out of it whenever I am alone, when there’s none to talk or listen to. Every string speaks out the various phases of what I feel.

A naïve thought: A thought that there’s still time to reach the destination, a thought that there’s still time to relish the present journey, to savor the beauty of the nature. The freshness of life in the breeze of the countryside flora and fauna.

5 Blacks

Black is not just a color. It is a definition to the most sophisticated secrets of the universe. The sun, the moon and even the earth are all the toddlers of the same black universe.
There’s nothing more prominent to a night party than a fair lassie wearing a stunning black dress with her black hair curled into perfection. On the contrary, witchcraft and black magic have always been an all-time favorite. Every culture has its emphasis on the value of this color.
So without wasting any further time, here is a list of 5 most wishful things in my checklist (not in any particular order):

A black Armani Tuxedo: A black tux signifies elegance, sophistication and confidence. And what to say if it’s an Armani clothed over a freshly bathed body, hair neatly groomed, rocking over the formal evening events. Oh man, the ladies gonna die seeing this. Poor they.

CX Swiss DELTA FORCE SPECIAL President Black Dial: Manufactured in Switzerland by Montres Charmex S.A, this Swiss Military full-function Alarm Chronograph is a truly stunning and rugged timepiece.
Twin LCD digital displays for DATE, ALARM, GMT freely adjustable 2nd timezone -Tachymeter: calculates speed based on travel time over a fixed distance Case/Bracelet: -Solid stainless steel case, (Delta Force Special models: matte-black hard wearing PVD plated; Delta Force models: gun metal finish) Case back: Stainless steel, screwed -Adjustable bracelet: Solid stainless steel with matte-black hard wearing PVD plated -Buckle: double pusher safety deployment clasp with engraved CX Swiss Military Watch logo -Screw-down crown and screw-down pushers for added security -Bezel: 360 degree / 60' graduation -Water-resistant,  Anti-reflective, highly scratch resistant sapphire crystal 

Facial Hair: That’s how much I like hair growing on the lower part of my face. Something symbolizing me as an artist, a writer/poet.

A Black Phantom: Nothing can challenge a ride like Rolls Royce’s. A gleaming black Phantom, lustrous as a new penny, with the lustre being a star in the night sky. It’s definitely the king of the road.

Space: Last week I had a dream. Dressed like an astronaut, I didn’t look bad at all while getting ready for some space mission along with 2 other men to the moon, or mars or something. We were having a serious discussion on some important space matter. When suddenly bhua woke me up. It was 5 in the morning. She was asking me about some freaking key.
After searching for an hour, it was found in grandpa’s pocket.
And I flushed as I went to bed. Dreams like this come once in a lifetime and I wasted it finding a key that was never lost. I tried reconnecting with the broken dream, but sigh.
Outside the earth’s atmosphere, the sky is black day and night. Strange, isn’t it?


This contest is a part of #WhatTheBlack activity at Review

Friday, May 30, 2014

The things you share are things that make you look good, things which you are happy to tie into your identity.

While the popularity of social networking consistently rises, new trends in the technology are frequently being observed. Equal Media Ltd. has tried a place where people can feel free to express strong and differing opinions in a positive and safe environment. It’s the differences in opinion that make State a fascinating place.
State serves the purpose of levelling the playing field for everyone by allowing them to express their opinions quickly and delivering them to the people who most need to hear them. It lets people communicate in a lucid, non-competitive way. It’s a place where you don’t need hashtags, followers, or being witty, just an opinion. It allows people to express opinions in a quick and fun way that also provides enough information to interpret, count, and connect them. And the best part is that you don’t have to implore others to follow you to share your opinion.

We believe that everyone deserves a powerful voice online, no one should be left out, and when everyone’s opinions count, a more complete picture emerges. We firmly believe that this could make good things happen.

The main page or the Home page has a red State button in the website header. Search for the topic you have in mind to create. If your topic does not exist, you will have a choice at the bottom of the drop down menu of search results that says, “Not the right one? Create new topic.” Click on it to begin creating your topic.

You must choose at least one opinion word
The home page also serves a few trending topics to choose from
Choose a word (or words) to describe
What you think or feel about it
You can choose from the domain of your interest- Entertainment, Sports, Food and Drinks etc.
The “ask others” tool allows you to solicit the opinion of other people both on and off State, thereby building a conversation around the topic you just created.

Just like any other SNS, it too has a way to connect with people called Tune In
The Notification icon in the home page shows interactions viz. ALL, CONVERSATIONS and REQUESTS.
I have been using State for the past week or so. Though it covers nearly all the trending topics and that too in an interesting way, but I’m still waiting for my group to join State as I have nothing much to do until then.
For You displays topics based on your interest
Across State shows what’s HOT on globally
State Clip allows user to capture opinions alongway

In many ways, state is an example of good design. It is clean, simple, and focussed on enabling users to the purpose it has been designed for- sharing your opinions. It has a professional design layout. The site has a strong visual identity. It is well branded: the site name, use of imagery and introduction leaves the user in no doubt as to what the site is about.

Usability is an extremely important area. If a user finds a site hard to use, they will often choose to turn to the competitor sites rather than struggle to overcome the obstacles they are facing. completely serves the purpose in that matter.

Min age to join-13

Networking features
Ease of use (%) - 100%
Notifications- YES
Mobile app- YES (Apple only)
No paid upgrades- YES

Site appearance (%) - 100%
Post comments- YES
Photos- YES

By keyword
BY Topics and users
Advanced privacy settings- YES
Report- YES

The load time of the page is quiet fast
I did not find any typos or broken links
It has a STATE logo at the centre of the header
No grammatical or content errors
In-site Ads- NO
Search function- YES
Help/ FAQ- NO

Design- 5/5
Usability- 5/5
Profile- 4/5
Security- 4/5
Overall rating- 4.5/5

This review is a part of the product review programme by and

Capturing Thunders

Tuesday, May 13, 2014

Finally,caught you. Wanted to do this for months. Caught lightening via my phone.

Sahira goes to School

Monday, May 12, 2014

My niece's day 1 @ Kindergarten

Haiku 2

Sunday, May 11, 2014


An old lady plea
in torn and a goblet
another in Gucci


Sitting folded at the window
with scarlet eyes gaze in hunger
my breath dried to nothing

Life Cycle

Currents strike shore
goes away and appears another
Eternal life continues

Damn. I miss u

Friday, March 28, 2014

To him the stars seemed like so many musical notes affixed to th sky, just waiting for somebody to unfasten them. Someday th sky would b emptied, but by then the earth would b a constellation of musical scores...

Oh th kind romeo over th tanki (water tank). Good luck champ (y)

Sullen skies

Monday, March 24, 2014

From above th roof @Mullana

Condition Serious Hai

Sunday, February 23, 2014

PS: All the moments described in this narration are real incidents from my life itself. So, beware.

Everyone has atleast one college professor they just couldn’t stand—an instructor that was unfair, rude or just insanely boring. But you couldn’t say that to their face. Or do you? :D

Enjoy the read!!

“Arish!” he yelled. “—Get out of my class.”
“Thank you, sir” I replied as I started moving.
Prof. Ajay has always been the biggest misfit of my life. It’s been months to this seesaw game. It must be put to an end now. Enough have we gone through. I’d shoot him in front of my parents if let off with only probation. Alas! Dreams are just dreams.


I joined MMEC after completing my diploma in Mechanical Engineering (ME) from Thapar University, Patiala, for my graduation. Like any other Diplomchi (diploma holder), we entered B. tech direct into the 3rd semester, which basically was our 1st semester here. And we were facing cognitive dissonance as to who, and what sort of, our professors would be.

Day 1- Lecture 1
Dr R D Gupta had our SOM (Strength of Materials). He took our Intro, gave his, and started inquiring about our academic background. An hour passed. He took attendance and left.
There arose a fish market as soon as he left the class. The +2 guys (who joined B. tech after +2) knew each other for a year and the diplomchies were excited to have new friends as well as enemies on the very first day. We never attended a class after 11:00 in diploma. Bunks were our daily supper. But these guys knew nothing about bunks.

“Chal yar. Bahar chalein” I said to Harpreet and we headed towards the corridor.
Harpreet was the only guy in our class who was also with me at Thapar. So basically, he was the only one I knew amongst the 1500 mechanchies (ME students) in our building. And standing in the corridor is like a ritual that needs to be fulfilled after every lecture.

“It’s a fine place, isn’t it?” I exclaimed.
“Yea. The staff is fair enough. But we got to stay alert to the +2 guys, the kiddos.”
The +2 students were more of those infantile tots who never bunked a lecture just with a fear that it’s considered an offence by law for which they’d be hanged to death, or ever more. Silly nincompoop.

Lecture 2: KOM (Kinematics of Machines)
Entered a new professor. He introduced himself as Prof Ajay Sharma, with Masters from some IIT. He scored 95% in his GATE exam and has worked for HONDA for 12yrs. But who the hell was interested. We were busy Facebooking, sitting at the last bench.
"See u soon" I texted.
"I’m standing right here, see me now" said a voice from behind me.
I raised my head to see who the fuck dared to step into my jurisdiction. And shit. Professor!
“Sir I was just…” I tried to explain, thinking he’s an IITian and hence, would be a sensible guy. But he turned up an antonym of what I thought about him. He took my cell phone.
He went back and commenced with his lecture.
Holy shit! Who the hell teaches on day one? Though he seemed a nice guy, but at last, he turned out into a real jerk. Actually, you’d love him if he weren’t so repulsive. Sadly, the odds were greater of him being a pain in the ass.
At the end of the lecture, he took attendance. Skipping mine.
“Sir you missed my attendance.” I said.
“I haven’t.”
“You did miss it, sir.”
“Don’t try to get under my skin. Get back to your seat.”
But I was damn sure he didn’t. “Never mind. We’ll be meeting for the next 5 months or so. Where’d you run?” I said in my mind.

10 days later (Pro/E viva)
Didar sir had our viva that morning. Since he was handed over with 73 students of group-B, he was in a hurry to complete the task. He called 3 guys at a time. But still we had a long queue poising ahead of us. My roll no. was 11101089, 3rd from back. He was asking just 1 question from all, and that too simple ones like ‘what is extrude command’ ‘what is revolve command’ so he could be free as soon as possible. A few of them got the privilege to face questions like ‘What all subjects do you have?’ ‘Which is your favourite one?’
It was my turn, finally. As I entered, I saw Ajay sir sitting along with Didar sir and taking the viva. He asked Aman the full form of Pro/E. But, Aman being a dopey flesh reached galaxy #2. Sir was done with him, so he asked him to leave. His next question was for me. He asked the same question.
“Professional Engineering, sir.” I said.
“What is helical sweep command?” he asked Harpreet. But he didn’t answer.
Sir looked at me.
“Sir it is used to…” I replied the best I could.
I was right and it was Harpreet’s turn once again. And this time, he answered correctly.
“You may go, Harpreet.”
It was just me and the professors now. And I thought Why the hell is he behind my a**? He didn’t ask so many from others. In fact, he didn’t ask at all.
“How to create a spring in Pro/E?”
I explained him the entire procedure, with dimensions.
“It’s wrong.”
I repeated again, thinking I might have been mistaken somewhere.
“It’s wrong. You’ve stopped studying.”
“It’s right sir.” I tried to explain.
“No.” he sighed.
It’s definitely right. I knew. I was quite good at Pro/E. But his confidence made me unsure.
“Why are you being such a bitch to him? He’s right.” spoke Didar sir, defending me.
“You may leave, Arish.”
I left. But I was staring at him continuously. “You’ll pay for it, sir.” I said in my mind.

Ajay sir had 2 lectures the next morning. Keeping in mind, that we were bored in the first 20 min of his 1st lecture, Lovely stood up in the middle of his preaching and said “Sir ki next class bunk hai.”
I agreed. Especially after all that happened in viva the previous day. I was really screwed at him.
Sir looked back. I was talking to Lovely.
“Hmm” he nodded his head and continued with the lecture. An hour of torture finally came to and end and he left.

After 2 more hours, it was KOM, again. So, we asked the previous lecturer to set us free early so we could bunk the next class.
He did.
We moved down. I left after the entire class did. Suddenly, Arush came running up. Run! Run! It’s a raid, prostitutes. Save your life. Run!
I saw Ajay sir coming upstairs. And the entire class following him. We had to attend the lecture now.

Sitting in the last row, I was now a part of the most playful group of our class. Though, the decent of them all, I was always caught for others’ pranks. But still, I enjoyed being caught for the sort of pranks they used to play upon the professors and the +2ies.
As usual, he entered the class 5 minutes before the lecture. Always punctual. He used to preach and demonstrate the hell out of us. He never relieved us from a single lecture of his.
“Sir let us free early just for today.”
“Sir don’t teach today.”
“Don’t allot an assignment today.”
“Do we have to note this as well?”
Atleast he said yes finally. But. Sigh. He was an epitome of sickness.

No matter what he did to me, I always had a feeling of concern for him. I felt pity for all the jests people made over him. So one day I went to his cabin and explained that I was never the nuisance creator. But he never bothered to trust me. And I haven’t yet understood why. Maybe because three rotten fruits are enough to rot a fresh entry.
So do hell with him. We now used to search and correct his poor grammar throughout the lecture. Trust me. He was really bad at it.
He started his lecture on Mechanisms with Lower Pairs. When his phone rings with a Don-2 ringtone. He took his call and started heading towards the door to attend it.
"Ooooooo..." shouted the entire class as he turned his back. That’s the best part of being a mechanchi. No girls in class. No limits of serenity.

“Is this your code of etiquette?” he said.
“Of course, sir” whispered Mandy.
Now that’s his speciality.  He’ll bemock you in front of your eyes and you won’t be able to catch him. And yes, we were in the same back benchers’ group. We were 3 sardars, Harpreet, Mandy and Lovely and just one non-sardar (me).
There was no degree of vignette to his wrath at that moment. He got so livid that to release his annoyance, he started raising random guys to ask questions.
Every question he asked was followed by an answer, plus, a ‘Sachi?’ (Is it so?) by Mandy.
“Yes the guy in blue checks.” he said eyeing me.
“What is a lower pair?”
“Sir, a pair that stands below the higher pair.” I said in a confident voice.
Mandy had a bad habit of laughing unnecessarily.  Especially on such situations.  And so he did.
“Sir why is it always lower?” asked Lovely. (Another PJ)
“You guys know nothing. Don’t know what you’ll do in your life.”
“Sir, how are we supposed to know? You never taught us.”
The class started clearing their throats, coughing, yawning and giggling, one after the other.
“I haven’t got the answer, Mr”
“Is this an IITian glitch, or are you being a jerk about it?” I asked in a voice just short of screaming.
I know it was rude, but he was getting over my head. He canvassed everyone in his furious eyes. But helpless, he got back to his dreadfully wearisome task. The one who keeps teaching inspite the fact that none listens while he speaks. And vice versa, the other times. You begin mastering the fake cautiousness, the major tool that’d get you through his lectures. His first Semester of teaching and thus, our worst Semester of learning.
But the torture for him didn’t end. The nuisance was invincible.

Day 16
He started with Ackerman's Steering Wheel Mechanism as I opened the door.
“May I come in, sir?” I asked.
“Please sir. I’m just 5 min late.”
“Don’t disturb the class. Move out and close the door.”
A raging silence brimmed my head. How could he do that when he usually allows an entry even after 40mins in a 60 min torment? But since I was in the nuttiest group, and since he was a jerk, he didn’t allow. I smashed the door as hard as I could as I left.

Day 17
Next day, I reached the class as soon as he entered. I followed him across the door entering the class like a secret agent. Leaning back against the wall as I walked, pointing fingers like a gun, and looking around with shifty eyes. It was my turn to gravel him now. He gazed. But could do nothing. Poor he.
I joined my other mates at the last bench as sir started teaching numerical on instantaneous centre.
10 min passed. It felt like we had gone through whole lot of a decade or so. Most of the class was sleeping. Or atleast trying to. Except a few nerds. Scribbling every bit of the lecture into their notebooks.
“Sir I didn’t get the point. Please repeat it.” said Harpreet.
He repeats.
“No sir. Still over my head.”
He repeats again. And this time, with a little more effort, and a lot more annoyance on his face.
“Leave it sir. You should learn how to teach.” advised Mandy. “—Do your job properly.”
“Mr Mandy thinks he’s a sophisticated young blood. Can anybody help him out with his misconception?”
He threw a fit over Mandy’s reply. Everybody understood the gravity of the situation. And hence, none spoke up. This time, Prof had a devilish smile growing on his face. Of a sudden, a hand arose. Of course, it was mine. And his smile vanished.
“Oh. So Mr Spikey, you’ll help him?”
“I have no clue what you are talking about sir. But may I go to the washroom? It’s an emergency.”
“Once it’s too late, you won’t be able to stay in the class.” interfered Lovely.
His face was worth watching. But he had no other option than to allow me. Who the hell had to pee or poo? I just took a whole round of the building before getting back in order to skip his lecture as much as I could.
I never had any intentions of screwing him.  Not wanting to recall all that happened @Thapar. But his lectures were a real torture. And the most of all, he was a jerk, turning every intriguing topic into draggy. That made him so deserving. I returned when it was just 10 min for the next lecture, with an excuse of stomach issues. Poor he.
Mandy told me he spent the entire lecture trying to lick his elbow. But unsuccessful. He looked really depressed. I whispered something in his ears and he was happy now.
As he took the attendance, we 4 just rushed out even before he dismissed the class. I saw him gazing at us. Like I care. We didn’t stop.

Day 25
As usual, he was being a jerk, untidying the black board to start the next topic. And first time in the history of mankind, we were sitting in the middle row, middle column. Our chins resting ov’r our hovering hands. Our heads up. And all four of us gazing at the ceiling. He seemed really pissed off. Yea, the jerk.
Then Mandy mused “Oooo... look at that." pointing up towards, literally, nothing. And aahed while gazing at it. Then, the 3 of us also joined him. And within no time, the entire class had their faces embraced over their hands. And I learnt there were 6 fans and 3 tubelights, with 2 beams, in our classroom.
He tried to control, but couldn’t barricade them for long. He was left numb.
Time passed. And by the end of the lecture, it became impossible for him to bear it. And he left.
After 5 minutes, he returned with an application letter quoting whether we wanted him or not, to remain our KOM teacher. He asked all those to sign who wanted him to be replaced.
In their minds, everyone was rushing to sign it.
But you know what. None did.
We actually started liking the new atmosphere of our class.

So, as we expected, he resumed with the lecture. But unexpected, Mandy had a classic weaponry with him. As sir turned his back towards us, he took out a pennywhistle from his pocket and blew into it. Everybody was distracted. He repeated again. Since we didn’t have one, we started POP sounds with our mouth. He kept bearing it for about 10min. Then turned around and as expected, he raised me. His eyes were burning red. Body shivering in rage.
“Who did it?”
“What sir?” I said and included “I just heard you consuming our brains.”
“I’ll deduct your attendance if you don’t name him.”
“I seriously don’t know sir.”
“Fine then, move down the aisle and follow me to the HOD.”
I kicked Mandy so he’d think something out. I cloaked his name so it was his turn to save me now. The Sardar stands up.
“He didn’t do sir. I was sitting just next to him. You can’t torture a student that way.”
“It isn’t that I don’t know about your records, Mr Mandy. You better stay out of this.”
Realizing that Mandy is restrained now, I kicked Lovely for his help.
Lovely stood up and asked the class in a politician’s tone “Did anyone do anything?”
“No.” shouted the class.
“Did anyone hear anything?”
Sir came close and rolled his ear.
“Your father is a good friend of mine. So don’t force me to be a jerk.”
He was actually a jerk. A real ache and this is the only reason why, with time, AS shifted from Ajay sir, to Ajay Sharma. And sometimes, I wish I could add another S after AS to make appear his real self ASS.
So, the last hope left with me was Harpreet. I kicked him.
“Guys, who made the noise?” asked Harpreet.
“Someone from outside” replied the class in a streamlined voice.
“We’ll go to the HOD.” I spoke in between.
“Shut up. Did you complete the assignment I gave last week?” and seeing himself getting entangled, he changed the topic.
“I was just working on it when from nowhere Roshan came and invited me to a party. I had 2 options. Either to reject his invite and complete the assignment, or vice versa. I thought for long and decided- Let the assignment go to hell. It won’t give me beer.”
“Oh! That’s sad. And your partners?” he asked in a caring voice.
“None did, sir.” They replied.
The reality was that we never knew about it. He just informed it to some of his acolytes. Bastards.
“Good. Had beer. Had enough fun. Now keep standing on the desk.”
“But sir…”
 “Do as he says.” whispered Lovely.
We kept on eyeing him time and time again. But he didn’t respond. Just an eye expression saying “Trust me. It’s worth it.”
But all that’s planned, isn’t always the destiny’s play.
He said he has had no food since morning. I looked at my Giordano. It was 3pm. He started feeling low. We asked sir to let him sit down. But sir thought he was pranking and didn’t allow.
With time, his condition worsened and we requested AS. But the results never changed. Every time Lovely sat down without the permit, AS made him to stand again.
Suddenly, Lovely fainted. He fell down and hit the desk.
Everybody started hastening to see what befell him, and if he was fine after that nasty blow. Prof. shouted “somebody pick him up quickly. Make him rest on the table.”
Sumit hurried and fetched water for him. He seemed conscious now. A bit. And somebody from the crowd whispered “Sir you did it. You’re the culprit. You didn't care while he was begging.”
“Who said that? Who said that?” said sir in a disguising voice.
The bang was so loud that by now Professors from adjacent classes also reached the site. AS escaped from the narrow alley.
We carried him to the campus Hospital. Our campus has one of the best hospitals of the area and so we had our best buddy back with us really soon. But they advised complete rest for 2 days along with regular medication.

We returned after an hour. And this time, Lovely was on his own feet. Everybody surrounded him as he entered the class. There was no professor in there.
“I have something to show you guys.” Said Lovely.
He took Rajliwal’s phone. After moving a few lefts and rights, he played a video. Of the entire scene. It was only then we knew it was all a planned play.

Day 45
The bad news is that Prof knows the truth now. We had our SESSIONALs last week. But the worst news is that, as expected from our last mischief, he failed us in the internals as a revenge. Yea, I know. He was a real jerk. He was the ninja with a red pen, and I, with a blue sword, our pranks. Where pen is always mightier than the sword.
It was the end of our bearings. Enough was enough. How could he? It was the end. We had to think of something better, far bad, this time.

He threw me outta the class. As if I cared. I went 3 floors down and started rambling aimlessly. I was just going to move out of the block wen my eyes stopped at a shiny A2 size pamphlet at the notice board. I went close to read it.
ME 2nd year industrial visit next week for a duration of 3 days. And guess what? The incharge, AS.
As soon as the lecture was over, I rushed to others to discuss it. Our smiles broadened.
We registered for it. And for the next couple of days, we didn’t misbehave. It was hell hard. But we had to. For the better.
We used to sit at the last bench, spent listening to music, watching movies on phone, playing subway surfers and sleeping all his lecture, having no intentions of waking up. Just waiting for the right time.

Days passed. Then weeks. And then the day came. We were all ready to head to Solan, about 130km from Mullana. The place had some wonderful industries with abundance of knowledge waiting for us.
The bus was waiting at the University main gate. We entered and occupied the last seats. Soon AS entered, unwary of the potential dangers, which awaited on the way ahead. Our eyes connected for the fraction of a second. He occupied the front, left, window seat. The bus started after a couple of minutes.
Throughout the journey, we didn’t create much nuisance. Just busy amongst ourselves. Chat n chat. Then had a nap.
We could hear fires turn into backfires, getting louder. The bus has reached its destination. Hotel Samrat Regency. We all got down. The hotel was not a 5-star type, but not bad as well. We all entered the hotel and AS consulted the receptionist. The thermometer showed -2° C. It was chill. We started moving towards our room. Ironically, we got 419, adjacent to AS’s 420.
“Be down for dinner in an hour.” He said.
“Yes sir.” All replied.
“Got it, Mr Spikey?” he said in a taunting manner.

We entered the room, falling over the bed. We kept lying for long but I couldn’t sleep. Especially with this feeling of rage overflowing my head and heart. I just wanted to run down the corridor and piece up every single particle of his being.
Harpreet noticed me pondering and said “Any crafty plans, Arish?”
But I was busy. Busy thinking. I got a plan. But it had to be refined before we could frame it up. I discussed with others and after a long debate, we rushed out of our rooms in search of an accomplice who’d help us in achieving this.
We finally got a servant. And explained him the trap. He refused again and again even over severe requests. But there’s one thing no Indian can refuse. Getting bribed. And he agreed.
Soon we all left for dine. Including AS. And that was the best time to set up the apparatus.

“Done with the trap sir. And placed your camera as well.” He whispered as we returned.
“Thanks buddy. Have a good day.”
That night was invested playing cards and with drinks. Chatting included. And randomly calling our exes. Unfortunately, none attended the call.
We were so boozed that we don’t know when we fell asleep.

A screaming sound woke us up next morning. Our heads were really heavy and aching. The Boozer Effect. Lol.
“What’s wrong with this moron?” asked Lovely.
“Don’t know.” I said while washing my face.
“Oh shit. The...”
“The trap. It worked.”

We rushed out to see his condition.
AS was standing in his towel. Still wet. His eyes were hugely huge, like they’d just pop out of their sockets if he hears another boo.
“What happened sir?” I asked.
Though we knew what has happened, but how could we not enjoy such a freakishly OUR’s moment. That was the best part of my revenge. Seeing that cold sweat run down his forehead in severe winters. He won’t bother anyone for long.
We went to his bathroom and inspected every corner of it, pretending like we cared. We took our camera and moved back.
Entered our room, we closed the door from inside and laughed badly. His face, the reaction. We just couldn’t blank that out. He stood numb. Totally out of reactions. We won’t forget his look even after our graduation ends.
We comforted ourselves over the couch and played the video. The beginning was just a still of the bathroom, so we forwarded it.
Soon, we saw him standing in his jumbo sized undergarments, in front of the mirror. Adjusting his hair, he was now talking to his muscles.
Next, he sat down and filled the mug with steamy hot water and poured over his head. The room soon got misty. He was singing a song; my name is Sheila. Sheila ki jawani…
After taking bath he got up to wipe his body. As he advanced his hand to take the towel, his eyes caught a glimpse of the mirror. And his eyeballs expanded. He tried to speak, but his tongue betrayed him. His face was supercharging like a pressure cooker, still helpless of shouting.

The pic has been edited to make the words clearer

And he started screaming at the maximum pitch he could. At deafening amplitudes. As if he saw a live ghost emerging from nowhere. Or like lizard approaching a naked lassie. We rolled in the aisles, splitting our sides as he blacked out.

MORAL: No matter how sincere the student is, never ever try to get over his nerve.
This post is written for Indiblogger’s 5 Star #ConditionSeriousHai Contest