Et tu Brute?

Julius Caesar uttered those painful words when stabbed by his best friend, confidant and advisor. Is it so hard to believe that friends are human? to err is human and to forgive is divine. So if we go by the adage, then neither of the friend, nor Julius nor Brutus were at fault. Most of my good friends are those who agree with this concept.
Some people trust their friends more than anyone else. I wholly agree that my rule states that friends are one's chosen family, but how much can one trust in them? how much can one even trust oneself? and if one can predict one's 'morrow or live a calculated life, one's simply not living. Maybe I say this because I always have made sure that I live an unpredictable and wild life.
Or maybe I say this because I believe in adventures. A day I'am on bed with books piled up next to me, the next I'am in one of the nearby jungles, the next at a sanctuary watching birds. However, I consider the Zoo to not be the right option because I do not stand by the theory of animals being "Wild". I always felt that its we humans who are wild and so animals deseve to be set free. I like the safaris because there, humans are nearly caged up in the safari vehicle and animals freely move about.
I do not follow the words of the rest of the world, I say my own for the rest to hear. If they don't, I just don't bother repeating my golden words with a platinum base. Brutus may have been a great friend to Julius and vice versa, but trusting someone to the extents Julius did was foolishness. To err is human so maybe it was high time that Julius had comprehended that Brute had every right to scream out "Pourquoi pas ? est-ce que je suis un dieu ?" *
I did not realize this on my own, but neither would I wait for any Brute to come my way. My first sentence to most of my good friends is "Never trust me, because to err is human and to forgive is divine but, I'am not her divinity either ways". To reveal myself or not is totally my prerogative. If any Brute nears me, they get what's called my best googly. I reveal their very need in my life. This is why I keep repeating, knowing me is against my law, and I'am not too fond of outlaws.

I saw an arch,
Some said "it bows"...
I said "It only supports"...
If it didn't support...
Then under the soil ur bodies go.



Note: * what for? Am I God?

Life's chant...

Some say it loud,
The rest in hushes.
Some sleep in peace,
From few eyes a tear gushes.

A mountain is tough
but isn't truth rough?
If rules handcuff
then isn't independance a bluff?

If I could fly higher,
I would touch the sky.
caught amidst the unruly clouds,
Are rules meant for a passer by?

I pass life's journey,
but choose not to be a passer by.
Live life like you want to,
and not like you ought to.

Rules bind,
they are all in the mind
Right is what is not left,
Having one's own beliefs in no theft.

Those who fail to think,
follow someone else's ink.
One who has his own worthy beliefs,
"He Lived" then his epitah reads.

Break up or make up?

What is being loyal to one's man? not speaking about another man? or not sleeping with another man? I have no clues why couples have a break up as an outcome of infedility. Many sobbing men and women who've split for this reason... spare no chance to speak against their ex and scream out about their disastrous break up.
I have one simple statement to make, if you genuinely ever loved your partner, then is it worth blaming him or her? whatever may be the reason, even if its supposed to be infidelity. Always remember that attractions are temporary but genuine love is not.
I do not propagate forgiving someone who commits adultery because of my traditional Indian beliefs. I do so simply because though I firmly believe that forgiving is divine and I'am not her divinity, I can manage to cross off a break up because of infidelity. Then why can't those forgiving souls who claim to be in true love do it?
Love is supposed to be a "caged feeling". If it is all about being "caged up" then why refuse a blissful cage with a stupid thing like "break up"?
This article is dedicated to all my friends who have had a "past relationship", a relationship filled with love but broke up because of similar reasons.

Please Note: This is a posting where I have expressed my view. However it has nothing to do with my personal life.

दर्द होता नही अकेला,
साथ लावे एक घनी पर्चायी...
घम होता नही दुकेला,
अंधेरे मैं ही लेता है कम्बख्त अंगडाई।
-पूजा रामकृष्णा हेग्डे

"Readable English"

Coming back to my Victorian self, I ask you oh reader! Can English be classified into "Readable" and "non readable" or is that a classification suitable for the classification of a "stylesheet"? ah! for those darlings who least know what a style sheet is, well a style sheet is a journalistic jargon for the pattern in which a journalistic output, be it in the form of newspaper or magazine is produced.

I was once told that I have a "conventi English" .Morons of the friggen milky way! I cant help it! I was born with love for this victorian language. At the age of 4, While kids were smart enough to read nursery rhymes, I would hoard up all the tinkle,amar chitra katha and a lot more comics on railway stations and read them over and over again and interrogate those around me for the vocabulary I then found a little above my eyebrow. Before I was 5 I learnt how to use a dictionary, oh! the joy of knowing how to use it was something that I can feel even today.
It was not easy for my teachers to accept that at 5 I did not need their spoon feeding in the form of notes, I knew how to mark my own answers after every chapter. I used to be this boring wise kid who could advice her teachers, adding to their adverse reactions when they would realize that my advices were right.
I could solve grammar that was meant for those 5 grades higher than my own grade. Then I met this someone who identified my interest in the Victorian and protected it and nurtured it.By 12 there was barely any section of grammar that I missed on getting a hold on.
I was academically supposed to be one of the highest qualified persons in this language by the age of 14, I remember bowing in front of my principal for that certificate. After all, she had permitted me into the library and had let me access all those "Big grammar books" which were inaccessible to even my seniors simply because they did not know how to use and value them.
By the end of my 15 I was such a...I have no words to voice out how boring I was, but hey this had happened to me once at 15, I mean I was at a loss of words and that was when I decided to make an effort and learn American English. then I was moved to another educational institute where nobody knew me and so I decided to not speak the Victorian version. I spoke American and was marked to be "The coolest ice cube". I can still speak American English, definitely not with an accent because fake accents are not a concept I support, I preach the neutral accent. I may however take an American native by surprise with my hold over American vocal expressions but I definitely cannot hide my Victorian love while I write.
Speaking about classification of English I can safely repeat the theory of many scholars and state that English can only belong to two streams, Victorian and American. However I come back to my very question, why do I feel the Victorian so closely and why does the American usage seem so difficult to me while its vice versa? why I have to try to simplify my language all the time? why have people always backed out of contests where I frame the quiz questionnaire? I'am not even well versed with current events and the rest of the questions I ask are very general, then why am I intellectually biassed? I do not even resort to degrading those who are not as good as myself linguistically. I'am just being myself, doing what interests me the most on this planet, I agree that its not too easy to accept the way I'am but am I asking anyone to accept me? Not at all, this is often considered to be my pride but know something? This is I, me, myself. I can tell in a crowd of thirty that if a CNBC chief wishes to marry me then for a career boos I would not mind while my views were openly opposed by those very materialistic folks who would not mind marrying a CNBC clerk for the same or lesser. I have no idea how I manage to be so frank but the day I grow up! I might not be the same, as of now, time to get myself another anecdote of knowledge. I'am sooooo greedy! I agree! when it comes to learning something, be it "French" or "how to clean a bookshelf", the learn part of it gives me a sure kick.

Profesional crisis...

Fat guys who have a belly poppin out due to overpouring emotional crisis turn me off to the core. I mean your gal doesn't love you back cuz her family would'nt let her marry you? you feel left out? go get yourself another one or just go to the gym and get back to impressing her, why bug me to get my sympathizing charger to re charge your confidence batteries? hello! I took your sobbies for a long time, now go find another shoulder to sob on, mine are strained.

Ever imagined the plight of those professionally into psychological counselling or research? well, a rare profession where the so tormented cannot even express the torment of studying/counselling one's subject(humans and other living species are called subjects by those stuck in the webs of this profession).

If you presume this is the right field for you to enter just take a breath and let it go now, I mean let go your very ambitions of being a counsellor simply because in today's fast growing world where one craves for attention but rarely is spanked by it goes to extremes for the same, several times even takes to faking sobbies only to have a shoulder to cry on, so if emotions is what you have in bulk, take to enrollin with an NGO but if your belly is a little stronger and can digest the facts and flush out the attention seeking rafts, Hurrah! you are heading for the right profession.

There are several rare courses being offered today, I know this fella who teaches us radio production and was a wildlife photographer and used to put in mini cams attached to a rope like thing into the anthill to click photos.Another guy found peace in studying sound mixing at some institute at LA. A lady with an MS decided to bake cakes at her residence on order basis as her profession for the love of baking and hey! her cakes are yummy. Next is one fella who flew off to Germany to learn the native lingo and holds a degree in the same from the second best university.Then comes another friend's aunt and uncle, a couple who found solace in being awarded doctoral degrees in astro sciences.I have a million more such rare folks around me but all I can find folks around me being interested in is medicine or engineering, a simple question to all those belonging to that category with their noses 90 degrees up there in the air, A million like you are trained and barely a hundred or lesser are ethically and morally worth my appreciation, I don give a cracked dime's worth if you presume that you are someone supernatural simply because I put you in a "I'am least bothered" category.

I know this kid who got screamed at for voicing out his desire to be a pizza delivery boy, I agree that the kids parents belonged to the elite class but working with the philosophy of work being timepass which fetches you green bucks is not so bad.

If you can conquer your emotions of being in a white or dark collar profession pal...the world sure kisses your toe nail, if not, all the best and be one amongst the crowded stream of the so preffered academic field, and feel darn frustrated when somebody walks upto you with a debate winning certificate and then, also head for a "safe salary job which is 'common' ".

I

I'am me,
This someday you'd wish to be...
I live a day's sight,
Cry out loud when in fright...
I could be fun,
but only if ur d chosen one...
I hurt no soul...
Not even the society's mole...
In life's drama I play my role,
I dislike the pretence foal.
To err is human,
To confess is to be the sun...
Life's not just fun...
Fun is one's karmic bun...
To those who say love happens only once...
I call earth's unfortunate sons...
I posess a heart that loves all,
Unless hatred in my heart they install.

-Pooja Ramakrishna Hegde

Barbaric profession...

"I'am in a hurry, could you please hurry up" said a smart young lady sounding like some cancer patient in her final stage as she rushed into the Barber's...oops...I'am so sorry, Its called "The beauty parlor" with all the hairy trends grooving around...

Calling it a parlor makes it not very different and nobody gives anybody the right to comment on their profession. Especially this parlor because it happened to be owned by a Professional who happened to be an expert in her field.

As the graceful writer realized that the "cancer patient" she encountered was a sweet and soft spoken doctor by profession, next came in another sporty and athletic doc...

Seemed more like it was raining docs, or rather say sweet docs, this new person seemed more friendly than the writer ever expected any doctor to be, as most of them are lost in crocins and other medical blah...the writer was in a tangy mood and mentioned to the darling docs about her resentment towards their profession, the first lady who was "not a cancer patient in her last stage" said that "One goes to doctor only when one's ill, so resentment towards the profession is quite normal".

The writer had more to add while the darling beautician craftily ran a needle through her hair which was attached to her comb, well, the writer never knew what they called such a comb, neither was she keen on knowing it...but her admiration towards the beautician's skill only grew by leaps and bounds...

Now the writer jabbed on with the new friendly girl who was as hair illeterate as herself, she was glad to have encountered her as both though one doctor and another communication student had one common factor, hair clumsiness...they both spoke as though their vocal chords were granted to them by his almighty only for a day and they would have to return it the next day, thank heavens the beautician was a good listener with two ears.

Heavens started raining tears of joy as they heard the beautician say "If it gets late, I would throw you both out in the rain with the muck in your head as I close at 7:30" and it was time for the muck to be washed off the writer's hair while she grew sleepy and silent and in the rains she disappeared into what the docs would call H2O.

love indeed...

Almost every person with a flair for writing sure writes about love someday, as it is a feeling which hath spared no pauper no king. Love's myth, but only to the mystic.

There is a thin line between love and attraction, love is a feeling when felt even by the most egoistic, one goes on one's knees by one's own free will. Attraction calls for attention, it is also whilst attraction that one craves for another's time. Whereas in love, one only cares, trusts and smiles at the other's well being.

If ever you have ever "truly loved" someone, and if that "someone" has had no trust in you, then it is not love, mere attraction. If you have been unable to forgive someone for having hurt you, then it definitely was attraction.

On the contrary, if you have been hurt a million times and more, but even then you forego the entire blunder and get back to the one who hurt you with the "Lets forget it, I love you and I trust you" attitude, then definitely it is love.

If you are the most arrogant amongst those around yourself, and if you can manage to fall at the feet of your love even at the slightest issue, it is neither a compromise, nor can it be termed as "stooping down one's own levels". To be honest, this would be love.

Attraction is something one would tell to many, but when one falls in true love, one rarely tells any. Unless unavoidable of course.

Love never hurts, it makes one so strong that one forgets what is meant by "being hurt". One smiles at the wide skies, at the gushing water, at the pure fire, at the gust of wind tickling one's feelings deeply. What hurts is never love, it is mere attraction.

Love is also least possessive, if any association involves possessiveness, then it definitely cannot be termed as love.

"A friend in need is a friend indeed", friendship is sure a conditional association. Whereas love is "A lover sans need, is a lover indeed".

About me...

• I'am a (.)dot says the pesimist...
  I'am the world sayeth the realist
  I'am the solid n patient earth...
  the blazing fire...
  the fresh whirling water
• the gently passining breeze
  the clear n spacious sky...
  But sayeth who that earth hath no quakes?
  fire destroyeth none when toyed?
  The water gulpeth no soul when disturbed?
  the wind never destroyeth when raged?
  Even the spacious sky dropeth a tear
  when the above elements take the task of fear...
  
  -Pooja Hegde

Is black my synonym?

Perhaps as it is researched and proved, one loves the color with which one relates oneself. One may term a lover of black to be a sad, morose, secretive, depressed and lonesome kind of a person. Perhaps before making such misinterpreted statements with regards to one’s love for black, one should know why one loves black.

I love the color black as I relate with it. Black and I are both misunderstood and misinterpreted, yet we are survivors in the ship. We are both primarily hated as we are both confident survivors with the highest amount of inner strength. Weaker colors and humans have envied us throughout for the same but yet we survive their sabotages and conspiracies.

Solitude is what we have always accepted with gratitude, we are both intense and have a lot within us, we both have very few friends but we have a rule which states “Solitude is better than being in vice company”. Our feelings remain unaffected by those around us, simply because we both do not trust anyone easily, neither do we compel others to do the same.

We both happen to be confident, powerful, graceful, and elegant; we also seem to be the most mysterious wherever we are, folks around beg us to unveil our inner self, We used to be naïve enough to do this earlier as the puzzle solver leaves once the puzzle is least solved and one’s ego is satisfied. Now we prefer that those who attempt to solve us leave due to the frustration of not having least solved us. Nobody has ever solved either of us completely. Probably that is because we have a million and more mysterious cocoons around us, each of which is a riddle in itself.

Neither of us would even attempt justifying being termed morose, depressed and all of those presumed and assumed phrases of the weaker sect. We would rather silently smile to the fool’s unasked sympathy. We are living originalities, and not the masked and sugar coated crooks.

Women's day...worth it?

Was it a woman who started the world or the so termed dominant man? nah...neither and cant be either, enough of playing with words (proned to doing so), if it were not them together then the world would be incomplete.

So thats definitely a proclaimation towards them having done so together, yet we fight for equality of gender.Is it a historical vicious circle or an empty mind doing so? or mere inferiority complex?

A group of feminists fighting for the right of one belonging to their clan...well what about the farmers (mainly men) commiting suicide when unable to meet the family's basic needs? what when the feminins fling the vessels at them? does it not hurt? can't they be a prey to harassment of any sort? then why do women fight for a reservation? though they claim to be equal to their counter gender?

What about the third gender who in the truest sense deserve our symphathies? they neither have a stand in the men's queue nor the women let them be far from their torturous gossips in case they take to their queue, what about them? what about the third gender? The most prominent of advocates are battling at supreme court to avail inheritence rights to the female gender, With all due respect to them, Is it not the third gender that requires most of their attention?

Pooja Hegde quotes...

"Times of crisis teaches one whom to trust, while times of joy teachesone whom not to"
-Pooja Hegde


"When life seems directionless, let fate navigate your boat as that is the time it navigates the greatest of dimensions."
-Pooja Hegde


"Hate no one as christ says, but never love all as all are not Moses."
-Pooja Hegde


"When surrounded in life we miss on words but in isolation they surrender the isolated and turns out to be one's best comrade."
-Pooja Hegde


"Mannerisms differ with one's social perceptions, as society is a mere output of conventions and diffusion of conceptions."
-Pooja Hegde


"If hurt, neither communicate it nor let the other communicate the same.Misconceptions may clear out through communication but the pain will never have its way out"
-Pooja Hegde

Escaped a cardiac...

As the graceful writer received a call from an unrecorded number, she heard a "Hello, how are you" the voice sounded familiar and next the caller said "I'am Anish*" she asked "which Anish*? " (She knew 2 persons with the name Anish Kumar*s).

She was about to collapse due to sudden hyper stress as one Anish Kumar* had bothered her so much that an arguement with him very often ended up in her being under medical supervision mainly due to overstress. This character had stopped bothering her only when she faced him really stern and asked him keep away if he did not want her complaining about him to those concerned about her the most...she could have taken more of those arguements had there been no foul language involved as he was on the top of her friend's' list...

Next she pressed her cardiac section as she nearly had a cardiac arrest. This time she gathered some courage and in a very quivery tone questioned again "Which Anish*?" . This time the reply came "I'am Anish Kumar*" now she nearly collapsed and with the last ray of hope asked "Anish Kumar* whose supposed to be at the oil mine?" and the reply was positive...This was truly a moment to celebrate for her as it as not the stressful Anish Kumar* who had bothered her so much...

Instead it was one of her dearest friend who was away on a project and whom she hadn't met as she always hated to bid goodbye...This Anish Kumar* can be reffered to as the bear who always made her smile . A true friend indeed, friendship with him was not merely sharing tears (as the writer's fate was when it came to most of her friends) perhaps this was one friend who also entwined with her whilst he was bestowed with a smile.

She then left for her over the coffee rendezvous with Anish the bear and on her way received an unusual call, this call called for her attention instantly, there was a project and she had been bidding for its success which was finally attained. Thrilled as she was, tring tring "Where have you been?" asked Anish the bear. She replied "I'am on my way, the project is a success"."Bravo" screamed a joyous Anish...she replied "give me two minutes and I shall be there".

Pre linguistic fiasco era...

Once upon a time...yawn...wake up!!! I do not follow the old rule and clecheed phrases...neither do I believe in eras...but this is an amazing story best narrated in the manner as it has been...

The graceful writer before falling in love and promising to write an obituary to her love (If you have not read my posting "Linguistic fiasco" please do read that and then continue reading this post else it sure will seem greek n latin) presumed to have "gotten possesive" about a whimpish moron who was her best friend as only a whimp would have had the patience to bear her tantrums...

So she presumed that he was somebody she would be extremely happy with despite of his feminine body language,jealous about everything nature...especially when he behaved so when she spoke about the "deep voiced men" who were so badly hitting on her...and why not? The writer was the best single in town...but little did she realize that her whimpish friend was barely jealous of the fact that she would no more be single...he was jealous of the fact that she is being proposed by men and not him...yeah yeah...you got it right reader...as the graceful writer was never against neither for homosexuality...she walked away silently...into the darkness.

Then out of her darkness and into the ocean of love...
promising to write her lover obituaries...
yea thats her...

Poetry.

Here I would be chronicling my poetry (As edited by the NDTV official website).

I consider each of my poetry as a feeling chronicled...probably a writer writes his work...but a poet lives it...the beauty of painful poetry lies in being appreciated and recognized for the pain you once lived...that well equips you to smile over your own suffering...and a smile...:) time for me to do that...

I cried for the dove...
- Poojjaa R Hegade

Doth trust truly exist?
Or is it just another myth?
If it doth, then why am I so oft betrayed?
Though warmth’s all I ever conveyed.

Perhaps I’ am crowned with isolation,
Always to end up on a no man’s station.
But the throne of solitude
Is what I accept with gratitude.

I live alone with my power and pride,
With no supportive soul by my side.
My feelings as usual rampaged,
For the emotional wars that I never waged.

Life’s always been so vague
Not worth living for anyone’s sake
‘Morrow I’ll sit alone by the lake
With no arm around my shoulder
All alone o a bulky boulder
Though the very thought makes my heart go colder.

I had framed a portrait of love
Above flied a peace denoting dove
Beneath were we by the cove
O'er…the heartache I suffer
Oh my portrait…oh there it shatters.


Here comes the next one...its been published again n again n again...well I bumped into few 'ol associates last night...quite unexpectedly... who were the reason for this "feeling" lived...

The fake laughter-
Poojjaa R Hegade

When hope fades away and life goes astray,
And you still can't find a way...
That is the day,
When you think of the time you were happy and gay.
Think of those times as much as you may
Your past always haunts your present day.
While the nights are ferociously filled with fright,
And there is no help in sight.
That is when you get the strength to fight.
May whatever comes thy way.
You will always support the right.
But at a point to survive…
You have to master the fake smile and laughter.
Else life would be impossible
In this materialistic society thereafter.

Note:I do not chronicle my joyous feelings...so kindly do not presume that I have not had any...Once I have my copyrights on my other stuff...maybe one would see more of poetry on my blogs but until then...Life's good...

Linguistic fiasco.

Once a writer fell in love...and the graceful writer's lover asked her "sweetheart, what will you do if I leave this world all of a sudden" to that she replied "I would write an obituary for you, after all I'am an unpaid writer"

If love really means live n die together then isnt that a synonym for misery?(hereby we shall use the synonym) if "misery" is a beautiful feeling and something very essential for human survival, without which no king no pauper can survive...well well then what exactly does one's prayer "Lord give me all the happiness in the world and save me from misery" mean?

If every devout accepts that he should use the synonym for love which is "misery " in his prayers then the prayers would probably be rephrased like this "Oh God give me all the misery in the world,without misery I will not survive, I shall break 5 coconuts at your temple if I found someone who would bestow me with all the misery in life and more".

After all the Kannada-English first language and the Sanjay Dutt guilty/not guilty confusions it is high time that we start being a bit honest to God about what we want...ever heard of "Accuracy" "Sincerity" and "clarity" being the features of good journalistic communication? if not kindly do enroll with the prestigious DOS in Mass communication and journalism,University of Mysore...at least that should facilitate Gods to proceed their "Judgement days" without complications.

My profile happens to be "The best"...

As I was lazily browsing through a community meant for librans (for reasons best unspoken) on an online socializing community, I came across a posting which read "The best profile ever". I was looking for libran compatiability posting which I did not find...but this particular posting about the best profile caught my eye.It was a link provided on which I clicked and followed up...to my surprise I realized that the link led to my own profile...The point I'am trying to make here is when one signs up for an online community one must be prepared for a "no privacy" rule. at first I was annoyed and questioned the one who post the link to my profile but then I realized that online socializing is a public page and there is no questioning once your on it.

One fine day i got a reply message from the one who had posted the link on the Libran community forum that it was a self reflecting link..which means it shows the profile of whoever clicks on it...that sure was some enlightenment...After all...Realisations do strike, don't they?

Online friend...

I stand strongly contre le concpt of online friends...One guy recently who found my postings smart on one of the online communities wanted to be my friend...I told him that the path to friendship takes as acquaintances travel the journey of time...and he asked if we could be acquaintances and I told him that people get acquainted only when the association interests them.

To this he replied back that he is very much interested in associating himself with me...I replied back that he has 3 msgs worth time to interest me after going through my profile and like any other youngster trying to be busy he replied that he has no time to go through my profile and also asked me to convey about myself by writing to him...To this I replied that "I lack the time to write it to you and you lack the time to read my generally available profile, so we are both short on time, have a nice day.Thank you."

Online friends indeed...

Its 3 in d mornin and cocks don crow at this hour...I really donno wat to blog but m bored so m gonna blog...recently had a weird character arnd me who used to be a one time pal...

Heavens forbid you O reader, u have such a fren whoz as cranky as to call you up himself...bother u,stress u to d core n then when u leave him a mail of "Please dont bother me" calls u up himself (from d numb which again as a favor u bought him) and wen u disconnect his call n leave him a msg to chk his mail...threatens you to not mail him (tho u said tht u ve ALREADY mailed him lol)...then tells u tht hez changin his own numb (and u wonder hw cud d angels be so merciful) then a second shocker...He tells u tht hez changin it to avoid ur yuck msgs( needs a new dictionary to teach him d right written n oral expressions...for all u know he must've presumed tht "yuck" is an expression for an "enlightened soul") anywys...what can such people be termed as?

A high level overview...

U do a million favors to a creep whoz suckin ur blood for every bit of info...n every bit o moral support is what u give when he flunks...n u get only stressful calls/msgs... alas...do such creeps...well is that the right word to use? well if not and if u have the right one...pls leave a comment...consider this a contest that gives no gift to the winner ;p

Disclosure: This blog is not published to directly or indirectly hurt anyone's sentiments...they are just feeling blogged and probably a lesson for the readers to commit newer mistakes while choosing cranky acquaintances.