<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68507776428992809</id><updated>2011-06-22T18:16:36.062+05:30</updated><title type='text'>An Idle Brain</title><subtitle type='html'>The meanderings of leisure moments</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anidlebrain.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/68507776428992809/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anidlebrain.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>9</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68507776428992809.post-3091712987912862998</id><published>2008-05-28T12:31:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2008-05-28T16:06:10.279+05:30</updated><title type='text'>From Auto to Alto - Part 1: The Auto</title><content type='html'>During my college years, I used to regularly travel in the over-crowded buses of Bangalore. At times, during one of these journeys from home to college or back, I used to look at the various 2 and 4 wheelers passing-by and wonder if or when I would have a vehicle of my own. I'd imagine myself in one of those luxury cars or those macho bikes, happily travelling all by myself. That'd bring a smile to my face and help me endure the push and pull of the mad crowd in the bus. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finishing college, I started working pretty much immediately. Didn't yet own a vehicle and I'd had enough of Bangalore's over-crowded, perennially late buses. I decided to start travelling by auto rickshaws till I had better means to buy a vehicle. I always enjoyed the unique travel experience provided by autos. So much so, that my family and friend's dubbed me 'Auto King' or 'Auto Raja' due to my love of autos. I also realized that auto drivers were inclined to pour their hearts out to anyone who cared to listen with a sympathetic ear. Autos with features such as loud speakers (boy could they be loud), seat cushions, strange blinking serial lights or startlingly posed photographs of heroes/heroines meant that that auto driver took himself and his auto quite seriously and the passengers, if at all they chose to speak, would be better off singing praises about the plush interiors. ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strangely enough I never did pursue the idea of owning a vehicle for a long time. Why so? It made perfectly logical sense to buy a vehicle and save on the travel expenses plus have the freedom to travel whenever and wherever that I pleased to. But I just didn't buy one. I guess I just wasn't ready for the responsibilities that came with owning a vehicle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But alas, the good times didn't last and there soon came the time when I had to change my opinion about autos and move on to buy a vehicle of my own. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be continued...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/68507776428992809-3091712987912862998?l=anidlebrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anidlebrain.blogspot.com/feeds/3091712987912862998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=68507776428992809&amp;postID=3091712987912862998' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/68507776428992809/posts/default/3091712987912862998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/68507776428992809/posts/default/3091712987912862998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anidlebrain.blogspot.com/2008/05/from-auto-to-alto-part-1-auto.html' title='From Auto to Alto - Part 1: The Auto'/><author><name>Jai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68507776428992809.post-4471438935498259697</id><published>2008-05-13T12:39:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2008-05-13T12:44:09.584+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Married Man</title><content type='html'>Married man?&lt;br /&gt;Married! man!&lt;br /&gt;Man, married.&lt;br /&gt;Married? Man!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A take on the power of punctuations :P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/68507776428992809-4471438935498259697?l=anidlebrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anidlebrain.blogspot.com/feeds/4471438935498259697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=68507776428992809&amp;postID=4471438935498259697' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/68507776428992809/posts/default/4471438935498259697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/68507776428992809/posts/default/4471438935498259697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anidlebrain.blogspot.com/2008/05/married-man.html' title='Married Man'/><author><name>Jai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68507776428992809.post-2833443215348631444</id><published>2007-11-25T14:18:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-11-25T15:06:21.604+05:30</updated><title type='text'>La Bamba</title><content type='html'>Vijay, a good friend and ex-colleague of mine, shared many of my interests/characteristics. We both loved 3D animation,  had a whacky sense of humour, similar movie and music tastes .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3D animation is very time consuming, and we used to work late nights to meet crazy deadlines. During these nightouts, we'd developed a routine to play both of our favourite songs. One song we'd both loved was 'La Bamba' by Ritchie Valens. Twas a spanish song and we'd both had no clue what it meant. But we didn't care. We loved it enuf to want to dance to the foot tapping music and it kept us going in the wee hours of morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, after a long time, I was listening to that song again and nostalgia hit me. Curious about what the song's lyrics meant, I googled away. First for the full lyrics, then for it's translation in English.  Here's my find:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Espanol - English:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para bailar la bamba&lt;br /&gt;In order to dance the bamba&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para bailar la bamba&lt;br /&gt;In order to dance the bamba&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se necesita una poca de gracia&lt;br /&gt;a little bit of grace is needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Una poca de gracia pa'mí y pa' ti&lt;br /&gt;a little grace and another little thing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ay Arriba y arriba&lt;br /&gt;and higher and higher&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ay arriba y arriba por ti seré&lt;br /&gt;and higher and higher and I will go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por ti seré&lt;br /&gt;higher and I will go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por ti seré&lt;br /&gt;higher and I will go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yo no soy marinero,&lt;br /&gt;I am not a sailor&lt;br /&gt;Yo no soy marinero&lt;br /&gt;I am not a sailor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy capitan&lt;br /&gt;for you I`ll be &lt;br /&gt;Soy capitan&lt;br /&gt;for you I`ll be&lt;br /&gt;Soy capitan&lt;br /&gt;for you I`ll be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bamba, Bamba&lt;br /&gt;Bamba, Bamba&lt;br /&gt;Bamba, Bamba&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does the translation make sense? Perhaps. Perhaps, the true meaning got lost in the translation. And then Perhaps we should just 'listen' to the song and decide if the words really matter :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="255"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Coy8Hoa1DNw&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x234900&amp;color2=0x4e9e00&amp;border=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Coy8Hoa1DNw&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x234900&amp;color2=0x4e9e00&amp;border=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="255"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/68507776428992809-2833443215348631444?l=anidlebrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anidlebrain.blogspot.com/feeds/2833443215348631444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=68507776428992809&amp;postID=2833443215348631444' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/68507776428992809/posts/default/2833443215348631444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/68507776428992809/posts/default/2833443215348631444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anidlebrain.blogspot.com/2007/11/la-bamba.html' title='La Bamba'/><author><name>Jai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68507776428992809.post-8004459990228950112</id><published>2007-09-20T12:23:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-09-20T12:24:56.581+05:30</updated><title type='text'>A book, the world for a book!</title><content type='html'>Sometime during a year and half ago, I got jaded with reading in general and packed all my books up. Cardboard boxes filled up, and thusly they remained gathering dust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently I picked up one of my all time fav book:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance - Robert M. Pirsig&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Bacon said 'Some books are to be tasted..'.. this one's to be read wholly and diligently. I'm borrowing a few words from wikipedia to describe the book's content:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry into Values is the first of Robert M. Pirsig's texts in which he explores a Metaphysics of quality. The 1974 book describes a journey across the United States, punctuated by numerous philosophical discussions (many of them on epistemology and the philosophy of science) which the author refers to as chautauquas. The title is an incongruous play on the title of the earlier Eugen Herrigel book Zen in the Art of Archery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the link if you'd want to read more about it:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zen_and_the_Art_of_Motorcycle_Maintenance" target="_blank"&gt;http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zen_and_th&lt;wbr&gt;e_Art_of_Motorcycle_Maintenance&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/68507776428992809-8004459990228950112?l=anidlebrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anidlebrain.blogspot.com/feeds/8004459990228950112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=68507776428992809&amp;postID=8004459990228950112' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/68507776428992809/posts/default/8004459990228950112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/68507776428992809/posts/default/8004459990228950112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anidlebrain.blogspot.com/2007/09/book-world-for-book.html' title='A book, the world for a book!'/><author><name>Jai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68507776428992809.post-1005782504110315043</id><published>2007-09-18T11:51:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2007-09-18T11:51:54.059+05:30</updated><title type='text'>For the love of rhyme, here I wasted my time</title><content type='html'>I didn't know she was listening&lt;br /&gt;Till I put the phone down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't notice her eyes twinkling&lt;br /&gt;Till I wiped my tears with a frown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I sure did hear her happily singing&lt;br /&gt;When I confirmed that her mom's coming to town!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A 2.30 am composition ;-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/68507776428992809-1005782504110315043?l=anidlebrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anidlebrain.blogspot.com/feeds/1005782504110315043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=68507776428992809&amp;postID=1005782504110315043' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/68507776428992809/posts/default/1005782504110315043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/68507776428992809/posts/default/1005782504110315043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anidlebrain.blogspot.com/2007/09/for-love-of-rhyme-here-i-wasted-my-time.html' title='For the love of rhyme, here I wasted my time'/><author><name>Jai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68507776428992809.post-4768983946106763809</id><published>2007-09-18T11:47:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-09-18T11:48:36.331+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Impulsive Haiku</title><content type='html'>eager knowledge seeker&lt;br /&gt;beaver pales when compared&lt;br /&gt;and he says "yeah, I know"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wrote this while chatting with Laks about Haikus, and his saying "yeah I know" ;-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/68507776428992809-4768983946106763809?l=anidlebrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anidlebrain.blogspot.com/feeds/4768983946106763809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=68507776428992809&amp;postID=4768983946106763809' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/68507776428992809/posts/default/4768983946106763809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/68507776428992809/posts/default/4768983946106763809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anidlebrain.blogspot.com/2007/09/impulsive-haiku.html' title='Impulsive Haiku'/><author><name>Jai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68507776428992809.post-3893860907790315420</id><published>2007-09-18T11:46:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2007-09-18T11:47:09.896+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Haiku Moment</title><content type='html'>Here are a few haikus I've attempted:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fickle pursuits&lt;br /&gt;of an agitated mind&lt;br /&gt;For love, ever stilled&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ceaseless traffic all around&lt;br /&gt;A cacophony of sounds&lt;br /&gt;her silver anklets clink&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pitter patter of soft rain&lt;br /&gt;A paper boat drowns&lt;br /&gt;I make another&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;White hot sunday&lt;br /&gt;Love burns me&lt;br /&gt;Endless window shopping&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a profound feeling to attempt Haikus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/68507776428992809-3893860907790315420?l=anidlebrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anidlebrain.blogspot.com/feeds/3893860907790315420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=68507776428992809&amp;postID=3893860907790315420' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/68507776428992809/posts/default/3893860907790315420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/68507776428992809/posts/default/3893860907790315420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anidlebrain.blogspot.com/2007/09/haiku-moment.html' title='Haiku Moment'/><author><name>Jai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68507776428992809.post-7493756856541567065</id><published>2007-09-02T00:46:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-09-02T01:07:11.266+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The Tao of Life</title><content type='html'>The rain's stopped lashing at my window&lt;br /&gt;Shedding tears of laughter&lt;br /&gt;Why cry When we can laugh at life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An idle Sun smiles gently then&lt;br /&gt;It's warm light, a calming assurance&lt;br /&gt;Why trust the unpredictable Wind?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweet aroma of Jasmine spreads around&lt;br /&gt;Pause a bit, savor the moment&lt;br /&gt;What's the hurry, where to run?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life's all about chances&lt;br /&gt;Live it while it lasts&lt;br /&gt;It's all a big joke anyway. Right? ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Jai&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/68507776428992809-7493756856541567065?l=anidlebrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anidlebrain.blogspot.com/feeds/7493756856541567065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=68507776428992809&amp;postID=7493756856541567065' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/68507776428992809/posts/default/7493756856541567065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/68507776428992809/posts/default/7493756856541567065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anidlebrain.blogspot.com/2007/09/tao-of-life.html' title='The Tao of Life'/><author><name>Jai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68507776428992809.post-5471577687516131626</id><published>2007-07-18T16:15:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-07-18T16:36:45.088+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>When I have nothing to write about, I think a lot about what I would write about if I had something to write about. I also spend time pondering on philosophical questions like 'what's for lunch today?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A philosophical angle to it? Yep.  I'm hungry and I'm thinking about my need for fuel, ergo I am. Makes perfect philosophical sense to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/68507776428992809-5471577687516131626?l=anidlebrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anidlebrain.blogspot.com/feeds/5471577687516131626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=68507776428992809&amp;postID=5471577687516131626' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/68507776428992809/posts/default/5471577687516131626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/68507776428992809/posts/default/5471577687516131626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anidlebrain.blogspot.com/2007/07/when-i-have-nothing-to-write-about-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Jai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry></feed>
