Wednesday, November 23, 2011

WHAT ABOUT THESE CIGARETTES?

“Smoking is injurious to health.”

One cannot count the number of times this particular warning has been flashed on the television screen or it appeared on the newspapers. What is it about smoking that the government has forced the cigarette producing companies place this notice(piece of shit) literally everywhere?

Well for beginners, this is a small list of effects that smoking brings to one:

· Heart: Smoking is the biggest risk factor for all heart diseases.

· Lungs: Smoking destroys small hairs present in upper parts of airways.

· Smoking causes heart burn, delays healing of peptic ulcers, increases risk of crohn's disease and formation of gall stones. It affects liver and increases chances of stomach cancer.

· Legs: Smoking affects blood vessels of legs causing chronic pain in legs.

· Eyes: The sensitive blood vessels of eye are easily damaged by smoking.

· Skin: Due to smoking the skin is deprived of oxygen and it loses its texture. An average smoker looks 5 years older than his healthy non smoking counterparts. tic tissues of skin.

· Bones: It accelerates the process of osteoporosis

· Cancer: Smoking causes cancer of lungs, larynx, oral cavity, pharynx, oesophagus and bladder. Tobacco smoke contains more than 60 substances which cause cancer. 87% lung cancer death occurs due to smoking.

· Reproductive system: Smoking reduces fertility in both men and women.

So, the probability of one leaving smoking after reading all this is what? One must think of like 1.1 or 110%. However, it is not so. People; and my mention of people also includes those who are in the big BoG rooms, in the ministry, the top level CEOs; are addicted to smoking.

Now, it is the duty of government to put a stop to this addiction. How do they do it? News Flash: “All cigarette packets must have the big warning on its packet.” To be frank doing anything after this would be interference on government’s part to control the free will of the people who constitute the nation.

Now, one is forced to think that if cigarettes are so injurious why do the companies produce it? Are they not aware of the consequence? See they are actually. But how can they stop these businesses which give them so much money. It is impossible to imagine an Indian Tobacco Company without that packet of cigarette.

But one must think that, “Hey. It’s not good on their part. They know that they are leading a whole generation of young and old people towards a slow death.” But, that is where the argument comes again. It is people who want the cigarette, and that is why they produce it. It is a demand driven market. So, ITC is producing it.

Since long, the Government of India, has been making the cigarette making companies put this warning on the packet covers; “Smoking is injurious to health.”

However, since long they knew that this piece of information was not actually serving its purpose. So they came out with the new, pictorial warning idea. The idea was to scare people away from smoking by showing them a picture of what actually smoking was doing to them. However, even this idea was diluted, as the picture that the cigarette packets carry now is that of a Scorpion, which frankly is not very effective to communicate its message.

In India, the cigarette packets carry the warning in the front of it and it covers only 40% of the area of the packet. When compared to the standards in Uruguay, the warning covers 80% of the cover; front and back both. This involvement of government in Uruguay shows a more active concern towards the smoking issue.

In a brave attempt to control smoking, the government, a few years back had issued an order that people cannot smoke at any public place. The law also bans direct and indirect advertising of tobacco products and the sale of cigarettes to children. However, the implementation of the same failed miserably and people still smoke freely in the streets.

Tobacco smoking in India kills 900,000 people a year. According to a 1996 survey reported by AP news agency, 112 million people smoke tobacco in India, while some 96 million use tobacco products like chewing tobacco.

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

From windows writer!

Lets see what kind of shit this thing does here. Claims a lot. May be not. Its been a long time since I posted anything here or for that matter anywhere else.

Lets add a picture now.

Pockettanks-high score

Does add a picture. Its in the writer. Will have to check it online as well once I get finished by this post.

Tried looking for a video to upload but couldn’t find any.

So, TEST BLOG!

Saturday, February 13, 2010

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

time and time again ..

they said its just a journey
all you have to do is walk
walk with the smooth talk
with the trees that come across
with the roads that you walk
but it never was so simple
cause it could never be
time and time again i looked around
just to know that i am still alive
time and time again i found
i need to walk alone..

they said its just your illusion
all you have to do is close your eyes
and wake up again
wake up again
to find the sweet mushy rain
it will wash away all your delusional pain
your life is not surreal
you think that its disdain
go, stand in the rain
it'll ease the pain
but it was not so simple
cause it wasn't
time and time again i looked around
just to know that i am still alive
time and time again i found
i need to walk alone..

they said its just the matter of time
the Sun will rise again
and take over the darkness
all you have to do is trust
trust the unseen
cause you just came here
the lights will caress
and you will feel the love that resides inside
and i know you'll get excess
but it is not so simple
cause it cant be
time and time again i looked around
just to know that i am still alive
time and time again i found
i need to walk alone..

Thursday, January 3, 2008

I wish ..

I am not a perfect person
but i wish life was easy
for it keeps me on my nerves
running all the while
so little time to breath
yet living discreetly
panting like a shot panther
just when i feel my feet

I am not a perfect person
but i feel so weak
for light keeps leaving me
over to darkness
de-illuminating me
for the greater good
the december wind passes through me
and oh its so cold
cold like a dead phoenix.
the child inside feels cold
and so does the soul
for all they could do now is
wait for the light to return

I am not a perfect person
but i wish i was sinful
for i couldnt care for my whiteness
the pureness inside me
dying all the while
playing with the lusty heart
sometimes it goes wild
disturbing the open sky
painting it white again
for all it wants
is a pure white world again.

I am not a perfect person
but i wish i could stop trying
resting for some time
to get myself together
relaxing my tired bones
and paint a free river
which flows through every moment
that i have been through
reminding me of everything found
everything lost
every turn with a funeral
and every twist with a boy at the hair shedding ceremony
everything that smelled like camphor
and everything that had the fragrance of jasmine
every single drop of tear that spoke
that sunk deep into the heart
that dried in the eyes
every found penny
and every lost diamond
every found love
and every lost one
every longed phrase
and every silent word
for all i want is
my happy world
my longed happy world.

I am not a perfect person
but i wish
i wish ............

~ Aryan.

Friday, August 31, 2007

la alba ..

It was 4.00 AM. My eyes were open. I was staring at the fan above my head. Although i wasnt able to figure out what they were, i was sure that the blades were taking something away from me. Something painfully beautiful. Something which i loved. As i wondered what they were, a single drop of tear escaped from my eye, running from my left eye to my left ear, saying or rather singing something. Something painfully beautiful, like the song of dying phoenix we keep on talking about, like a fire in the jungle, like a free kite in the sky. Something which was painful yet beautiful. Lost in thoughts i wondered what was this all about? Why these odd thoughts? What was the reason of the single drop of water, running from the left eye to the left ear, saying something? I tried to listen to the tears again, to my wonder they spoke again, they sang again, but i still wasnt able to interpret their signs, their language, their synchronization. It was perfect, was again painful yet beautiful. I tried hard to talk to them. I tried asking them who was mastering this synchronization, who was it? In reply, they sang in unison, they sang in painfully beautiful unison. I looked around for help, may be somebody could help me. The darkness stared back at me in reply. Then the singing stopped, the sound of music was gone. All i could hear now was the sound of blades taking away something, something painfully beautiful, something i loved.

Irritated by that something, i gave up. Closed my eyes again. Tried to block all those thoughts. Tried to empty the empty vessel full of air. Unable to do so, i started my day by emptying the bed. Put on my white serene t-shirt and opened the door. Painted in yellow and blue with a red knob, the door reminded me of the school uniform. Yellow signifying the shirt, Blue signifying the pant and the Red knob signifying the belt that was used to bond these two, small beautiful handsome things tightly. I shrugged the thought away and stepped into the dead deafening silence of the empty corridor. The corridor, so alive, so noisy, so lively during the day and the corridor, so dead, so silent, so peaceful at this hour of the day. Even the corridor had two dresses. One noisy, alive and lively dress which it uses during the day and One dead, silent, peaceful which is used at this hour of the day at which words are spoken and sung by the single drop of tear that escapes from people's eyes running from their left eye to their left ear. Pulling in the strings towards me, i tried to undress it, the corridor, wanting to see what was it, what was inside. All the corridor offered was its dead impenetrable silent darkness. May be there was never a dress for the corridor, may be it changed bodies like our hindu dead people do. Or may be it was again, two small beautiful handsome things held tightly by the red knob. The Yellow morning and the Blue night, held tightly by that tiny red knob, the Sun.

Painfully Smiling at the corridor, i made my way to the washroom. Performing the daily morning rituals, i still was thinking what was it. What was that something painfully beautiful? And so many thoughts, why? Wondering all this i came back to my room. Picked up my cell, found 2 new messages. Both from a friend of mine, one message saying Thanks, and the other one saying Gud nite. Now this brought me back to my previous stupid being. Could that person be so stupid, that she was saying a Thanks in one message, and Gud nite in another after 40 seconds. Or was it the aftermath. My conscious was racing, mind subtle, i was flying again, in the air, talking to the goddess of beauty, with searching eyes. Would it be so bad? I mean why was this going to be bad at all? She just kept on looking with those searching eyes somewhere. Searching for something. I realized, when they rested at me, the eyes, they surely found some serenity, but there still was this certain fear, this certain unknown fear, this certain unknown painfully beautiful fear. Looking deep into those searching, feared, painfully beautiful eyes, i raised the question again. Why not? She just smiled through her painfully beautiful eyes, being practical, she called this, being practical. She didnt say anything, she just kept looking at me, as if she was speaking with those painfully beautiful eyes, as if she was singing with those painfully beautiful eyes. It, the ambience, was painfully beautiful again. All of a sudden, i was falling, the goddess of beauty just kept looking at me, those painfully beautiful eyes getting more searching than beautiful, the colors in those beautiful eyes draining, a single drop of tear escaping from her left eye to left ear, saying or rather singing something. Something painfully beautiful. Something she loved.

It was then that i realised, it was her beautiful eyes, the blades were taking away. It was then that i realised, it was beauty, that the blades were taking away. It was memories, that the blades were taking away. It was the happy times, that the blades were taking away. All so painful, yet so beautiful. All so painfully beautiful. All something i loved.

Friday, July 6, 2007

the guide ... travel with me ..

It had been long i had read a novel ... Its not like i am very interested in them or something like that but its jus that .... yes sometimes i jus enjoy them ...

Recently had the chance to go through this R. K. Narayanan stuff ... THE GUIDE ... And i must tell yu its really something that evry single human should go through atleast once in his life ... I mean while reading this piece of art i actually found myself there ... imagining all that stuff ... Yeah probably yu might be wondering what the heck this guy is talking about ... but its not that ... the writer actually brings out the emotions of the character so well that yu are left with nothing else but the emotions of the character pounding on yu...

Its the story of a common guy ... jus like any other human ... jus like us ... who grew up alongside the Railway Station, along with the sand piles, playing under the huge mammoth tree ... who fell in love with another girl and who kicked his mother out of her own home ... Its the story of someone who transformed from an innocent spoiled brat to a money-headed guide, to a manager of a bharat-natyam dancer, to a lovely prisoner, to a cunning emotionless swami ...

With his father being an Betel shop owner and his mother being an housewife ... this kid was a spoiled brat who spent most of his time playing games under this huge tree ... as he grew up, he saw his playground turn into a fully fledged station and fell in love with it ... As the story sails, the reader passes through a million of emotions of RAILWAY RAJU from his childhood to his adolscence ... he inherites the shop his father owned on the station and very soon became popular among the tourists as it was the only shop on that station at that time ... but very soon because of his hunger for money and attitude to keep the tourist happy, he found this new career in the form of a guide ... This was when he met this couple who were willing to be guided for a tour to Malgudi and fell in love with other half of that couple ... the girl's name was Rosie ... a self-reliable lady who wanted a person who appreciates her and her dance ... and for that appreciation she mended to an unmendable state ... and despite this, her other half wasnt interested in her as he was too busy in the walls of ancient temples ... struggling Rosie finds comfort in the arms of RAILWAY RAJU who seduced her with the best effort ...

As we turn the pages of the book, we explore the complexities of relationships ... the mother-son relationship ... the man-woman relationship ... the husband-wife relationship as Raju finds a new career in dancing for Rosie ... the saint-blesswanter relationship of Raju and Velan ... the story unwinds itself and the reader finds the Protagonist as a saint in front of a thousand bhakts, giving them lessons on life ... and in the end, the protagonist finds himself analysing his own life for the first time ....

To be truthful, it was an awesome experience after such a long time .. i would only add up one last final thing ... if yu ever get the chance, surely have a drive with THE GUIDE ...