why not

2009-03-11T16:23:00.000-07:00

2009-03-06T14:29:00.000-08:00

2006-11-02T07:46:00.000-08:00

Dissociatve Identity Syndrome

(popularly Multiple Personality Disorder)

Anniyan was the least of this i tell you!

This write comes in the wake of my new found knowledge that there exist certain ke-ku* who assume rummaging this blog is the key to discovering the dark half- my less known private life.
I feel insulted. I really feel insulted!
Now did you think i would be so dumb as to put up private information on even a darn peice of paper... let alone the internet??? So i tell him- ke-ku dear, this is not the way it works.
And he shows uneasiness at the fact. So i try to make him understand that it would take a half wit idiot as himself to go on proclaiming information on the free for all web if he did not want it public. Quite obviously for a spectacular genius like him, who could evade evolution, this was not comprehendable. And every few seconds he would give a triumphant smile at the accomplishment of 'discovering' my space here!
My blog is not me. Infact most often I AM NOT ME. What then, have i written all along in a mask of lies?
Maybe.....

Let me put it easier for my friends of blogs and shitheads of planet ke-ku

I guess most of us have atleast heard of a disease, not uncommon amongst our kind. Its called Multiple Personality Disorder. In fact all of me suffer from it.
And since the millions of ME cannot peacefully co exist in my limited frame, three have emerged truly powerful- VIKKI, Markiv and Vikram

Pretty simple- ideally I would be Vikram. The figment of myself better known amongst my lesser world. Removing all emotion and backing it with attitude and ego required a dump- and so Vikki was born. Now if you knew Vikki, you could at least beam at lesser passed knowledge. But there again if you assumed I did have some life altering secret, and you just had to look for it in the daily papers, i suggest you look under a moving truck and not stop until you hear a squelching sound and your eyesight fades to darkeness!

And here comes Markiv. It doesnt take a harvard cryptologist to see that this is the mirror of vikraM (which so happens to be my name). Obvious from the name, Markiv is the anti- matter of Vikram. Defnly not the place to go about searching for vikram here!

(1) I may not be Einstien, but i am sure enough not an idiot to go about giving you anything I dont mean you to see.
(2) Orkut, Blogosphere, my write ups and my speeches are meant for public and I KNOW IT!
(3) I currently do not hold ANY life altering secrets. So the next time you start with "I heard something about you..." im gonna make sure you dont hear anything at all- EVER
(4) Either Get a life... or better still - eat your toenails and DIE

ps: Ke-Ku is an ancient Chinese accolade for ingenious thinkers. Not to be confused with tamil kena kooooo

2006-10-16T10:58:00.000-07:00

MARKIV IS BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!

We'll be singing
When we're winning
We'll be singing
I get knocked down
But I get up again
You're never going to keep me down
Pissing the night away
Pissing the night away
He drinks a whisky drink
He drinks a vodka drink
He drinks a lager drink
He drinks a cider drink
He sings the songs that remind him
Of the good times
He sings the songs that remind him
Of the better times

Shaken but not stirred... The phoenix rises....
On the road to repair!!!

I CHOOSE LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2006-10-03T06:44:00.000-07:00

Everybody wants to go to heaven, but nobody ever wants to die…

Sorry to throw another write in lines so "un-markiv-ish"... but then, my words are only mirrors of my thoughts, and rocking as life might be, the void that i have elluded so long finally seems to have caught up! Anyway, this is something i had written a while ago and never wanted to post cos it din fit into wat i concieved as "good enough". But after running through a few blogs ard town, i guess any accumulation of over 3 coherent words qualify as MASTERPIECE (5? would make it to the booker!!)

No wonder they say love is heaven. Utopia… so easy to conceive, and yet a myth beyond reality…

Fearlessness is a mere state of mind- a detachment from the uncertain. When a risk is taken with no regard to the plausible loss, can it even be termed a ‘risk’??
And so, I now believe, the figment of the fearless that I have crawled on through quite some time now has been rather a state of emotional void. Whether that has been for the better or worse, shielding mortals from my polarities of moods, it now has quite disapparated.

And so to speak, in a mind frame much less dense, and yet with a rather cloudy clarity of thought, I once again am drawn to the absurdity in concept and practice of such matters.

Fear is a quality we revere, praise, detest and often hope to conquer. For I have not so chanced to meet a single mortal who wishes not to be ‘THE HERO’.
All women love their knights in shining armors, and most men try to squeeze into armors they do not fit into.But what then? Beyond the hero image? What would Spider-Man do, after his marvel comic hours??

As the good Puzo says in one of his books (Can’t remember the exact lines, but goes something like this…) ‘Live your life, not to be a hero, but rather to remain alive... With the passage of time heroes seem a little foolish…’And that I must say is a truer source of fear. For even in the worst cases, the brave learn to fear not ‘the final foe- death’, but in the depths of the heart and mind, the fear transcends far beyond death… Intoxicating the portals of life…

And probably that is why love be so much a stronger, for it permeates through life and death, with just as much ease in better, and worse.

2006-09-28T12:32:00.002-07:00

Ya its been a while since i posted last. Kinda lotta things happening ard.. And din find the time to sit down n pen my thoughts.

If u've ever read my posts before, this certainly is not even gonna be remotely close to the predecessors. Fun Mark is out for a walk- so this is just grey for once! Even as i write this, my mind screams in despair, looking at all my environ.

Hatred has always been a cool thing. A guy in calm, in aparent love with his life is termed definetely gay. The "SILENCER" technique has always been part of the manly attire. I have personally oft taken on a motto of "Happy maybe good, but moody is cool!!!". Whether that has been a correct outlook or not, the limits of my moodiness have never creapt into the realms of my thoughts (ya, big deal- i can fake ma mood!).

But today, as I run through the various discussion forums I see educated youth ( General assumption that anybody who can type out coherent sentences onto a discussion forum must be educated, and the only people as jobless to do that would be us YOUTH!!!) i see hatred screaming out from every corner. On lines that would insult any human of half the sanity of a gorrila!

Religious, caste stuff, nationality... in fact even based on their political stance. Yes, even I have prided these discussions to the point of argument. More than once we have talked hours together trying to convince the other to our view. But not once have we taken it to a personal level. Never has the reason of discussion degraded to the level of fanatic frenzy.

Indeed it gives me more than a smile to realise that people of my generation take so much pride in their origins. But people- news flash- WELCOME TO 2006!!!
Whether you like it or not, you are going to have to live in a cosmopolitan neighborhood.
If the company you work for is acquired by a multinational and you cannot bring yourself to work for a PARDESI- as the reebok ad goes- THE ROAD COMES FREE!!!

And in the end what is the purpose? That whatever you represent can go down to the levels of disgust just to prove a point? That by the use of degraded diction and bad vocabulary you can bring whatever you support to the top? Or by baseless mudslinging you would be a feather in the cronicles of time?

Anyways, as always it be neither my aim to disgrace nor stop these idealogical nyncompoops (I ve been using this word too often- somebody tell me if it actually even exists!).

Footnotes
Genghis Kahn couldn't take the world by brute force- so get a clue!
Language is a powerful medium allright- but interspersing every two words with an F@#$ certainly doesn't make it anymore powerful!

2006-05-28T09:29:00.000-07:00

Azhugaachi Rules

A tear roll,
A pained heart,
A soul that quests
Dragons and fiends
When reality wanes
For there are none...

Hmmm... Now don even ask me what that was... I know i am a pathetic poet... Especially since poem readers expect to cry at the end of every sentence...
Its not a very fair world out there for us writers who dont want readers to short their keyboards with tears.
And since i cant beat em, am gonna join em

Think about it- the greatest of entertainers are those that "ENTERTAIN" the least- we love romeo n juliet cos they both end up in their graves... Titanic was a wonderful story of love cos the cute ma-fe hero dies at the end.
Why talk so "peter" when we have our own mega-serials to cry about! Switch over to any channel on the prime time and if you belong to our elite set top metro without the elite set top box, enjoy the scene. I dont have to know the time or the show.

Infact, i guess i could write mine own now- Lets start with a woman (actually any number of them) crying... either cos her husband left her, or died, or sleeps around with another or watever the @#$% or all of these together... And we have one very irritating ugly bitch with 7 inches of make up and God knows why a reason to hate the crying woman ( actually after 759 episodes of this, the bitch reforms to become a nun somewhere in the himalayas- apparently cos she gets bored of being a bitch, but actually cos she suffocates on all the glycerine and commits suicide)
Now you dont see this story going anywhere? My point exactly... The episodes will go on though, with more crying and more bitchiness until medimix decides to sponsor the news instead or atleast till its election time when my entire crew will change their political alliance.

Hmmm... Come to think of it, i could do even better and try a movie in kollywood. Add a super hero- cultured son, beats bad guys, loving brother, beats bad guys, romantic hero, beats bad guys, true friend, beats bad guys.... If, at any point, you miss out on the sentiment, dont worry. The mom, sis, lover and friends will either be dancing or crying at all times. For commercial reasons, the post interval part will have more random romantic interludes, with more "beats bad guys".

Well... I can imagine your faces scorning this non-originality. Too bad, cos id be a millionaire screening this crap for a hundred days.
Whats worse- you'd be enjoying the 'beats bad guys' and romantic interludes on your over priced black tickets already!!!!!!!!

ps-

this is a very serious post
i would get started with the movie, but the script has already been patented by Kollywood director "NAME-KING"
n i still cant write a poem

2006-05-10T11:12:00.000-07:00

A SINGLE FRIEND IN HAND IS BETTER THAN A COUPLE BEHIND A BUSH!!!

I hate to be the one on the offensive, but sometimes, they give me no choice...

I was tellin one of my friends about how i raced down the beach road yesterday in all excitement and glory... CUT... If any friend of yours ever told you that having to put up with the ravings from the other end of your commitment could be torturous, give him a gentle pat on his shouder. For he having to put up with that is like suffering the labor pain of a test tube baby (all 'test-tube-mummies'- there is no hidden meaning there.... ).

Anyways, back to the story-

So here she snaps (poor dude, ma friend... Ive always thought someone should throw him the world tolerance award)- How immature are you? Girls dont like guys who ride the bike at like 150kmph....

Hmmm... Well that really got me thinking...
Flash news- Gals dont like guys who smoke... Ridin like a bullet is jus scary n not cool...

To those apparently revolutionary women who have these stuff printed onto their Ts n brains- Guys dont even really care...

Now lets weigh the statistics- What would u assosiate Guys with:

fast ridin.... zippin like the bullet cos it gives them the thrill.. the adrenaline rush
smokin, cos they jus like it damn it... If any guy with a peice of rolled paper doesn't know the ills of cancer, i guess he should be seated amongst the elite KINDER GARDEN
gang up in dozens n do really crazy stuff no one wold be proud of- umm... its a testosterone thing... like sitting on KUTTI SEVURU(small wall!).... its just a MUST DO in being a guy

Now now... Despite all that,everything a guy does must be to impress a girl. Well that is inevitable then, in a day where Savithris', Kannagis' and Sita-devis' rule the streets. Where women just live a life to fit their emotional happiness, never a bother about the insignificant men folk abounding them... Purely as an analysis... What do they do as being their pitiable selves??????

wear gooyie gooyie make up-lipsticks, nails, crap n concotions- ok now that should give one inner peace..
dress up in clothes that are 2 sizes too small... Having to have to tug down the shirt lest Captain gets down to his PAMBARAM mood again (havent we discussed the pambaram thing before? And i hear of late the area is being used for cooking omlettes n stuff...)
special FALL OFF pants that rest precariously on regions certainly not meant for that
Hushed tones, Peter english, Expensive hangouts (atleast knowledge of the names), a few dishes with martian names n tastes...

Well.... the list could just go on. The fact therefore remains- women do crazy stuff for men to notice... we being men, NOTICE (again, its a testosterone thing... n we got nothing better to do perched on the KUTTI SEVURU)

Men, on the other hand do a lot of crazy stuff as well.... Stuff women apparently dont appreciate.. But well, we being men, just do it, ANYWAY (yet again, blame it on testosterone!!)

....CUT.... 'Enna daa... ippdi ellam pesinaa poningalikku pudikkum, odaney vizhindiduvaange nu aasa padriyaa?'

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2006-04-29T11:48:00.000-07:00

Remember, Remeber.... The fifth of November.....

Come to think of it, actually that doesn't make a lot of sense... Except, maybe, hmmm.... Someones birthday perhaps??? Well, considerin the populous in production every year, daily forbidden fruit effect (not the post forbidden fruit effect in the wash basin) and the relative scarcity of days in a year, it only so happens that every darn day is SOMEONE'S birthday... Not much to remember eh?!?! But then, why open with the date then? Yeah, i watched the V for Vendetta crap... Government, revolution.... And that added to our own local elections doin the rounds...

And in so politicated (well, webster could create his own words, and so can i!!) a world, a silver beam of educated politicos.... Finally!!!!!!

But are we ready for them yet?? I mean, what can these guys do for us good citizens?
Corruption free government, they say... Guys, wake up! Corruption is the only thing thats free in the government today...

Where's my colour TV? Where's my free cycle? Where's the once-in-five-years dothi and saree? Where are all those greater things that improve the economy?

Now, now, dont forget Kamaraj who proclaimed that a candiate's educational status should not be a bar on his political ascend! Then again, it doesn't matter if the Great dude lived in an era with the dinosaurs, before the advent of the computer, the TV or the mobile phone; when sticking your ear to a radio the size of a telephone booth was termed tech-saavy!

But the trouble is, we have so been accustomed to our representatives doing their traditional tribal dance before their international counter parts that i doubt if we can accept AMERICA RETURNs in place of our 'white n white's ( i know that is a niche reserved for future oscar winner 'Abbas', but america-return sounds really fitting here... kindly adjust to the paradigm)

So here we go on yet another run and i hope we will show these impudent factions of unbridled youth that the day where engineers and managers run the fort-camp is yet far...

And until then, wheres my free rice? Wheres my money for sittin on my ass? Whers the darn economy?!?!?!!?!?

disclaimer- in case any of u viewers have anything to do with politics, politicians, hired assassins or the likes, i am mentally retarded, these are NOT my photographs, i live in afganistan in a taliban concentration camp( ya these guys still exist!!) and i jus died to ease ur job!!

2006-04-06T09:29:00.000-07:00

You don’t know what u’ve got until u actually miss it…

Now this is not yet another ode to love am writing here… (considering all the previous response I got for my ODEs to love, I wouldn’t knowingly risk another!)
Rather, here flows an ode to those lesser things we don’t care much about. Things we so willfully take for granted… Like I cant remember a morning when I expected to wake up looking at the framed masterpiece of my educational wonders! And yet, its been a really depressing week searching for that marksheet I lost (now stop flinching at those words u grown up ‘ah I don care about mark sheets’ cool dudes… I know u’ve all been there!!)

Anyways, now that I ve found it craftfully hidden in the deeper crevices of that closet, beneath heaps of clothes I’d rather not wear, inside a book id never read, I get down to writing a few very very interesting insights of the marathon quest (I don’t know if there does exist a quest that can be marathon-ish, but if there is, this sure qualifies to be one!).

The actual search involved turning the house over, discovering that unopened lunches from last semester can actually decompose and throw a… ummm… not very romantic odor, and that dead cockroaches are worse than living ones cos they wont jus go away if u close ur eyes and count to ten very slowly. But that’s not what I wanted to really discuss about here today. Of greater significance is the post search effect at home. I can understand the emotion of the home maker on seeing the home… err… made?!!?! But its this custom they follow at my place during an interrogation- i ve grown to English movies where the police allow a disclaimer as anything an accused says or does will be used against him if needed in the court of law. A little extension here- add those things u don’t say or do, things u cant and things u wont. A crime to sit silent. Now I can stand hot oil being poured into every pore in my body. But stuff like ‘U r so careless becos u don listen to the MURMURS OF MYSTIC MAN every morning; or ‘U lose all ur stuff cos u ride ur bike too fast’ are really too much…

Enna koduma saravanan

2006-04-04T01:30:00.000-07:00

Thaaai Kulameee Ennai Manniyingaal

Really I must stop blamin de women folk. Drivin down on the long and winding ECR this mornin, i so happen chanced upon a couple ridin by. COUPLE OF GUYS! Now i stress on the word COUPLE cos these guys- with ear rings and coloured rubber bands on their wrists, n hair- the color of a tropical macaue...
Now thats not what really got me irked. What did was the clothes they wore- like all matching matching!!!

I mean, if the day here says we guys should like actually dress up i guess its time for me to join my prehistoric friends in their fossils. Its not like i had beloved Ramarajan for a costume designer. Its just that i cant bring myself to care about these trivialities. Clothes were probably invented cos the leaves fell off in autumn... and its a woman's world out there... LET IT BE THAT WAY

Now, if these things could stop with just the clothes, its kinda ok... But face creams???
Be a man- a shower every day is sacrifice enough. Lions dont have to take a shower every day- and they survive. Look at the fellow animals that do enjoy marinating- buffalos! pigs! lamb!(i dont really know about the lamb part, but i heard they marinate it before cooking and if thats the last thing its gonna do, goats better enjoy it!)

A little observation- women never asked for these changes. They just got it without asking and now they are merely overwhelmed. Trust me, a couple of months she'd prefer Muniyandi,the haggard old beggar next street n u can hear her tell her friends 'ya, he was kinda sophisticated n all... but Moonie is choooo cute n sexy'

2006-03-30T19:18:00.000-08:00

When in Chennai, be a Roman.....

Seriously!!! Ive been around a little, and heard quite some too. In France, surprising as it might be, people speak French... And expect you to converse in that as well! Romantic as it might be, its just a little intimidatin to see people actually use it beyond the comforts of the dark...

Adding similar fire, the spaniards speak Spanish in Spain (even call it Espanol), the Russians- Russian in Russia, and quite understandably, the English try to speak English in England every once between their liquor...

You would be scorned like a leper stray cat if you cant speak the native tounge in China (mind you- they DO eat leper stray cats... RAW!!)

And the muslim world- why they could chop off very useful fragments of your body in public, if you cant speak the.... (errr.... now whats that they speak... i ve seen it on the national geographic...)... i dunno.. something that sounds like a cross between a camel's mating call and the effect of too much beer.

Anyway, so to speak, it is only the way of rule that in mumbai speak mumbai hindi, in delhi- speak delhi, and UP- the UP version.
Now now now... Not the way it works here- In Chennai it is not just the ignorance. Its the ballant arrogance with an attempted cute innocence image through the 'I DUNNO TAMIL YAAR'.

I mean, if u ve lived most of your life (actually anything oer a year) in this city, i dont think it should be too difficult to catch on the lingo. But no- to try and flounder is one thing...

Iddile enna dhaan indha ponningalikku sceneo- 'Hey, enku tamil kojam konjam dhaan varum'

2006-03-29T22:37:00.000-08:00

THAT HOT ITCHY FEELING

Ahh…. Love… The true delirious utopia… That beautiful hot itchy thing you feel in your heart… (or wait a minute.. is this whiskey am talkin about??)

Hmmm… come to think of it, love is a lot like whiskey… except that it isn’t… Love is a many splendored thing, as opposed to whiskey- which is a many blended thing.
And obviously, love is a lot lot better than whiskey… because… (umm… I should start writing these things down jus as soon as I’ve whispered them into her ear!)

YEAH!!! With whiskey you can run out of ice. And then you could have to run down to your neighbor in fervent request, not wanting to disturb the silence of the nights with the decibels of the calling bell… and adopting to Neanderthal style (rocks, clubs and the likes). This could quite lead you to hell a lot of trouble cos the sober world never seems to understand its social counterpart.
Now you’d never have to run out of ice when in love. Vaseline- probably… but never ice!!

Another observation I made was that it is ethically alright (sometimes even required) to talk about love with your whiskey… talking about whiskey with ma love gave me a red behind and sleeping problems for like a month!!!!!

And finally, love is better than whiskey because you can love and drive (really?? I mean… ) and your reaction time isn’t affected… a lotta things could be- but not the reaction time...
any comments???????