Uhmmm

Two people leave the hall from different exits. One of them is hurrying.
A man fogs his glasses and then cleans them.
An old man sneezes, and is dazed, face all red. Probably a cold.
An uninterested person picks his nose.
His companion is overdressed and she has realized that.
A 40 something woman there checks in the mirror if her kohl lines are still lines and not smudges.
A 40 something man is solving sudoku.
Another has taken a position that could be that of paying attention or of dozing.
A kid uses his nails to peel off paint from the arm of his chair.
Three people texting on their cell phones, their expressions lit by the display. One of them is smiling.
A well dressed man is there in the front, but not quite present. I wonder what he is thinking.
Is she there in the crowd, looking at me? Yes, then, no. I hope she is impressed by all this. At least a tiny bit.
What do I do after this? May be I can get myself a nice cup of coffee. And plan out next month's vacation. Again. It makes the vacation seem closer.
The light is on my face. As I look into it, the people fade away and so do the thoughts. Actually the thoughts still stay. May be I will think about them later.

"Good morning ladies and gentlemen. Today I stand before you to talk about..."

Cough! Eeee!

No matter how hard I tried, I could never make American coffee to taste like Indian coffee. More specifically, Madras filter coffee. Having stayed in Chennai for a while and having an aunt who makes phenomenal filter coffee, it was just natural that I had to be a fan.
When I had first come to the US, I was fairly excited about tasting their coffee, thanks to having heard so many tales of romance, dates, make-ups, break-ups, start-ups, lawsuits, conversations all over happening over a cup of coffee. For all this happening, there had to be something special about American coffee.

Well, there wasn't. I was disappointed. For one thing, it was water-based. Ugh. Milk, or "cream" as they call it, was solely added for the purpose of flavoring. I was complaining to an American friend -

"It's like they forcibly made hot water pass through coffee beans."
"Dude, that IS how they brew coffee!"
"Why would they want to punish at least one of the two? They could use milk!"
"Ha ha! Who uses milk in their coffee?"

Silence.
Crickets chirping too.

In search of a remedy, I surprised several people at cafes when all I did was take lots and lots of cream and added a decent amount of sugar, effectively making people wait in line behind me. It refused to work. It still tasted like the coffee maker was planning sweet sweet bitter bitter revenge. Or like God's way of telling me that I will be caffeine deprived for the rest of my life. While I am in the US, i.e.
(In a big booming voice, like how Gods typically speak from behind the clouds) You shall never feel the blissful ethereal blend of fatigue and alertness at the same time! While you are in the US, i.e.

Not that I would pass out of tiredness if I didn't have my regular dose of coffee. But for days when sleep was less and alertness was crucial at 8:00 AM (or 10:00 AM, same thing) in the morning, coffee was a necessity.

Eventually I gave up. Now I just drink black coffee. No milk, no sugar, no bliss. It's like a bittersweet symphony, except for the sweet and the symphony.

And I am sure I wake up because of how bitter it is. It has nothing to do with caffeine.

O( )ama

I wish the #1 Most Wanted in the world - Osama, and US Presidential Candidate Obama didn't have names that are so similar to each other.

It causes confusion.
Like today, when I was browsing IBNLive, I saw this piece -


and I thought that it was an Osama doll outdoing Barbie. I went click-happy over it, but turns out it was Obama. And not Osama.
Not that I was gravely disappointed... but some part of me still wants to see an Osama doll.

New Folder (11)

Every time I go home to my parents' place, my Dad tells me to have a look at his files on the computer. Because he feels that there could be several duplicates, and I should delete the files that are no longer relevant or have been superseded. My Dad is very methodical about keeping up to date with his finances and all sorts of transactions in a huge number of files on his computer, in soft copy. He often creates backups and stores copies on several media. While my Dad is very meticulous (admirably) in maintaining all this, he is not very innovative in giving names to files. And that's where all the trouble starts.

I need to sift through several gigabytes of data to try to figure out which is the latest file - sometimes the files are modified on a different computer and copied on later to the home computer... and otherwise - and ultimately it's a huge melee of "latest updates" which I need to sort out.
Considering that each time I go home, I just sleep, eat, sleep, watch TV, eat roadside good, sleep, eat... understandably I have lots of time on my hands and I am more than willing to help.

But only at first.

Folders that go by the following names:
"New Folder" (8 or more)
"New"
"Personal files"
"New Personal"
"Personal Final"
"Personal Latest"
"Final Personal"
"Old files (to del)" [Hah!]
"Files (check and del)" [Double Hah!]

The same is repeated with segments like Backup, Data, PPT, Report etc.

Several files that go by the following names:
Sinha final.doc
Sinha latest.doc
Sinha old.doc
Sinha to-delete.doc
Oh, and these files exist in all those unambiguous folders I have named above. Gigabytes of word documents, scanned images and excel sheets. Ow.

But then, when it is all done, I feel like I have actually accomplished something. :-) It feels good.

As a side note, it's not just my Dad who has this organized mess. Lots of people do! Some of them might be readers of this blog as well.

Image Courtesy: Ads of the World - Lecithin

The beauty of argument

That's the beauty of argument, if you argue correctly, you are never wrong.

One of my all time favorite movie has been and will remain "Thank you for smoking". I had seen it way back in 2006 and that movie is a big load of many-things-to-learn.
Nick Naylor, a lobbyist for a big tobacco firm has a tough job fronting an organization that kills 1200 people a day. But that does not make him a bad person - it's his job. To talk.
And in fact, this movie throws light on all those people who take the fall in place of others. While the world hates such people, there is something else in their lives which the mediocre brained do not see.
He fights for and teaches how to fight for one's dignity. He brings perspective to several things in life that are blindly taken as to be wrong. Here is the trailer - you must watch the movie if you have not seen it. For those who admire strong satire and good quality comedy, you will not be disappointed.

Trailer: Thank you for smoking

Here's my favorite scene from the movie - where Nick is describing the nuances of his job to his son. About how to be right, even if you are not necessarily right. All it takes to prove you are right, is to prove the other person is wrong. Even if it is on a different aspect. And you need to prove it to people watching, not to the person himself. Not the right thing to do, but unfortunately, that is how it works in the world.

Joey: So, what happens when you're wrong?
Nick: Well, Joey, I'm never wrong.
Joey: But you can't always be right.
Nick: Well, if it's your job to be right, then you're never wrong.
Joey: But what if you are wrong?
Nick: Okay, let's say that you're defending chocolate and I'm defending vanilla. Now, if I were to say to you, "Vanilla's the best flavor ice cream", you'd say …?
Joey: "No, chocolate is."
Nick: Exactly. But you can't win that argument. So, I'll ask you: So you think chocolate is the end-all and be-all of ice cream, do you?
Joey: It's the best ice cream; I wouldn't order any other.
Nick: Oh. So it's all chocolate for you, is it?
Joey: Yes, chocolate is all I need.
Nick: Well, I need more than chocolate. And for that matter, I need more than vanilla. I believe that we need freedom and choice when it comes to our ice cream, and that, Joey Naylor, that is the definition of liberty.
Joey: But that's not what we're talking about.
Nick: Ah, but that's what I'm talking about.
Joey: But … you didn't prove that vanilla's the best.
Nick: I didn't have to. I proved that you're wrong, and if you're wrong, I'm right.
Joey: But you still didn't convince me.
Nick: Because I'm not after you. I'm after them. (points to a crowd of people)

Michael Jordan plays ball. Charles Manson kills people. I talk. Everyone has a talent.

**
Aside, I am trying to come up with a good voicemail message for my phone. I am not being very successful.

Wah... Tag boliye!

A therapeutic tag. I volunteered myself into this. Thanks to Amrita, though. :-) As Amrita says, it is not therapeutic in the real sense, but Jawahara's calling it that, hence she's calling it one too. And thereby I call it a therapeutic tag. A list of 10 things I miss in my life right now and another list of 10 things I would like to achieve within a decade from now.

10 things I miss in my life.
1. I miss a fully functional right foot. I miss all the sports fun I could be having if only this right foot had not been hopelessly sprained more than two years back. It's yet to recover. :-(
2. I miss the beaches in Chennai. In fact I miss any beach. But Thiruvanmayur (Besant Nagar) Beach, Chennai in particular. I miss the times I used to go to the beach at midnight, sit there watching the waves. I used to watch sunrise, have steaming sambhar-idli at Murugan's Idli shop in the morning and come back to the hostel to sleep. Some of the brightest ideas of my life I got sitting at the beach, e.g. wearing floaters to the beach and not shoes.
3. I miss having a younger sister. I have always wanted one. Always. Someone to take care of and pamper and spoil. And always have gifts for. I envied my friends with little sisters. A kid brother would do too, but then, I am the kid brother.
4. I miss my days at school. By all standards they were carefree. Mischief was fun. I miss my old friends with whom I am barely in touch with...
5. I miss the time I used to have nice conversations with complete strangers at Barista or Cafe Coffee Day or even in the college fest. The best part was that I never met these people again in my life! I just have not had the opportunity to do that here in the US. Sigh.
6. Summer vacations during college days when I went home. I used to wake up regularly at 10:30ish. And sleep late.
7. I miss eating pani-puri at 4 pieces a rupee in Baroda. I used to hog, and even converted my parents into pani-puri fans. It's close to impossible to get pani-puri at that rate and taste here in the US.
8. I miss some of the daily food my mom used to cook. In fact I miss them so much that I don't even want to try to cook them. Reason? The last memory of my eating that must be a good one. :-)
9. I wish I had a more eventful life or a better memory to jot down 9 and 10. Deep sigh.

10 things I want to achieve within a decade from now.
1. Learn that fancy keyboard lying in my room for a year, gathering dust.
2. Take formal lessons in movie editing and in advertising.
3. Take some fabulous, really fabulous shots using my camera. And get recognized for it. :-)
4. Tour Europe. Go to every country on that land. Spend good time there. Tour New Zealand and Egypt too!
5. Stay in a Dubai hotel at no expense of mine.
6. Sky dive. That should be done next summer, though. :D
7. Visit (not just drive through) all 50 states of United States. 9 and counting. Visit Canada too.
8. Fly an aircraft. (Ha! Yeah right.)
9. Learn at least three social dances completely, tango being one of them.
10. Play with a tiger/lion/leopard cub with the mother tiger/lion/leopard nearby. In the wild. And not chicken out.

I tag: Devashree, Amit, Gaurav, Sunando, DreamCatcher, Charumani

What the HONK!?

Kolkata traffic can be summarized in a few words as "Honk, honk, honkity-honk, honk honk honk." Puncuated liberally by the yell, shout and the sound of the rickshaw blow-horn, which I swear, was invented to emulate a dog's yelp.

When I landed in Kolkata airport that morning, I took a deep breath to smell my country. And I got the familiar aroma of singara, kochuri, luchi aar aloo'r dum.

And the whiff of urine someone had relieved himself of. Smoke, beedi, diesel, petrol and lebu-cha (lemon tea). :-)

City of Joy.

In the taxi ride from the airport to my residence, to put it simply, I was sh*t scared. The driver was maneuvering through traffic like a complete maniac, with barely a few inches margin between the car and the object of terror. Brrrr. Pedestrians and bicyclists were treated like maggots. And the incessant use of the honk to get into that little space between the bus and the road divider. Oh wait, THAT'S NO ROAD DIVIDER! That's ANOTHER BUS! May be the bus was used in the 1942 Quit India Movement. Those things should not be on the road. Really.

Anyway, in retrospect, may be Indian driving has always been like this. May be I always needed to cross roads like that because everything on wheels was out there to kill me. May be because I have seen a different kind of driving in another law-abiding country, lawlessness on the road is more pronounced. Meanwhile, I wonder... before getting used to the US style of driving, I wondered... when I used to drive in India, did I drive like a madman too? Probably.

Photo courtesy: http://www.tribuneindia.com/2006/20061223/nat.jpg

And then he burst into flames

I am extremely prone to static electricity. Especially in the winter, I get charged up every 10 minutes and I am giving off sparks (Exaggerated. Don't sue.) whenever I touch any metallic surface. And on several occasions, I have given tiny shocks to friends on contact. :D They were NOT amused. Not that it's ecstasy for me either. That's why I hate wearing fleece. And sweaters. And dry winters.

But let me tell you this - if you are in a dark room and sufficiently charged up with static electricity, observe closely when you touch a metallic surface. If you are lucky, you can see a faint spark. :-)

The unfortunate (and scary) part is, I came across theories for Spontaneous Human Combustion (SHC). It refers to a phenomenon where the human body burns without an external source of ignition. It is a subject of controversy and debate, as this is not proved to be a natural phenomenon. The most widely believed theory is that clothing is set afire due to a heavy discharge of static electricity. There are quite a few supporting (but inconclusive) cases where people were capable of carrying 30,000 volts in static and they caused small flares either at their workplace or in their own clothing.

From Wikipedia:
[...] The professor explained that under certain conditions (walking on carpets during dry winter weather, for example) almost anyone can build up an electrostatic charge of as much as 20,000 volts. Hence the shock we sometimes feel when touching a car door or other metal surface. Usually, the electricity is harmlessly discharged through the tips of the hair; however, the professor claimed, there are some people (he guessed around one in 100,000) whose abnormally dry skin permits them to generate as much as 30,000 volts at a time. In certain circumstances, he said, such people may be highly dangerous. They may, for example, have been the detonators that touched off explosions in hospital operating theaters whose atmosphere contained an admixture of anesthetic vapor and air. In addition, the professor was convinced that workers in ordnance factories and petroleum refineries should be tested to discover whether they have the type of skin which retains electric charges more persistently than others. [...]

Here's SOUTHPARK's take on Spontaneous Human Combustion. It's hilarious! And a Calvin & Hobbes strip that was published once upon a time.

Heh! :-)

Why did the chicken NOT cross the road?

Crossing the road in India has over the years developed into a talent that exhibits a commendable amount of agility, tact, tolerance, diplomacy, unagi, love, presence of mind and also the ability to count the wheels of an oncoming vehicle. Yeah, because more the wheels of the vehicle, the harder it's gonna come and hit you. That's why standing in front of a moving train is often frowned upon.

It has been a little over a year since I have been in the US, and I have am greatly used to the driving rules and system followed here. Driving within lanes, keeping distance between vehicles, NOT crossing any solid lines whatsoever, stopping at stop signs etc. The most important one - YIELDING TO PEDESTRIANS! Yes. The oncoming traffic will stop for you to cross the road and the driver is going to wave at you wishing you a good morning/evening/weekend/Christmas. And you wave back with a smile.

I came from a country where pedestrians are treated like maggots - the drivers don't want them on the roads, so they might as well knock them down (and run away, as many have). It took me and my friends quite a while to get accustomed to the US system of road regulations. No matter how big the vehicle, it's going to stop. for you to cross the road. Trust me. Unless it's a train. Or an aeroplane. Or if you are being really adventurous and are attempting to cross the freeway or the interstate.

I think the rule is - Lesser the number of wheels, more the respect you've got on the road. Bicycles are next to pedestrians. But then unicycles are above pedestrians. Because even pedestrians stop to look at or look out for unicyclists. Unicyclists are funny.

After obtaining a license for driving in the US, my American colleagues often asked me if I had trouble getting used to driving on the right side from the left side of the car. To which my reply had always been "Naah, that was never a problem. In India they drive on both the sides of the road". Another day, I searched for Indian driving on YouTube and showed it to my American research colleague and the few minutes of screening were punctuated heavily by
"Oh dear God"
"What the..."
"Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod..."
"Aren't they scared?!"
"He's gonna die! He's gonna be roadkill!"

Anyway, now I think I have got too used to the US driving, which according to some people, is boring, because nothing happens. It's made me soft. Now I am going to India for a couple of weeks to a city with one of the most understanding, accommodating and affectionate traffic personalities ever - Kolkata.

Photograph courtesy: http://www.chickenssuit.com
Check this out!: Why did the chicken cross the road?

Kokipedia

KOKIPEDIA finally launched!!
by Gaurav Bhardwaj

STATE COLLEGE, PA. The much awaited “Kokipedia” was finally launched in early hours of morning today at a function organized at this knowledge capital of Central Pennsylvania. The new ‘know it all interactive knowledgebase’ derives its name from Latin word ‘Kokos’ meaning Kokonad Sinha and ‘Pedious’ meaning knowledge. The crowd went berserk when the name of knowledgebase was released. People think it could not have come at a much better time.

The crowd was upbeat and believes that it may be answer to all the confusion in the world due to Wikipedia and all and this knew knowledgebase may hold answers to all the people’s problems. It’s just a matter of meeting or calling Koke now. As D said, “Koke knows it all” and frankly this has been the general perception for a decade or so now. When questioned about his huge knowledgebase, Kokonad Sinha modestly said, “It's all due to instruction manuals!!” Koke’s affection towards instruction manuals is a well known fact. He holds the record for reading most number of instruction manuals in a year. Another related record that Koke holds is for assembling maximum number of furniture items in a year. Earlier this year, Koke also raised the issue of making the instruction manuals of APOLLO 11 public. The issue generated lot of public attention and had caused quite a storm in senate.

“There was no need for a Beta version, we all agree about the soundness of our knowledgebase” replied the Kokipedia Team when asked about the need of releasing a beta version first.

None of us can actually fathom the depths of this knowledgebase as of now but one thing is sure that this day will be remembered as the day when attrition of Wikipedia started.

Disclaimer and fine print (MUST READ): The editor of this blog (Kokonad Sinha) has nothing, NOTHING to do with this post. Also, he has nothing to do with the picture of himself used in that obscure rubik's cube. It was solely the idea of everyone but himself. Gaurav Bhardwaj, the author of The Antisense Strand, is going to attend to all comments on this post.

Oh dear. Oh dear oh dear oh dear.

This is what PhD does to people!

Prosaic dreams

A collection of dreams I have had where I expected something to happen, but nothing did. Mundane. :(

I was studying for an exam two days away.

I took my clothes out of the hanger and put them back again.

I drove really fast, and reached sooner than I thought.

I was not falling, just standing and looking.

I got a phone call. We were going out to have lunch.

I was at work all day. I was not being chased.

One guy painted my house and went.

I saw a girl I liked. She was a friend's girlfriend.

I rented a car.

I got back home and saw my house was still there.

I was crossing the road.

One guy opened his store, I went in and bought a fishing rod.

I am moving!

I am currently working on moving to Wordpress.com - moving the posts, the embedded videos etc. Anyway, when the moving is complete, the new link will be up here.
I loved Blogger, but I find Wordpress more versatile in its widgets. No hard feelings, I hope, Blogger.

3 hours later...
UPDATED: On second* thought, I have decided NOT TO MOVE. (Talk of indecisiveness!) I still love Blogger. I hated the fact that one cannot change the template CSS styling in Wordpress without having an upgraded account (NOT free).
http://logophilia.wordpress.com barely got to see the light of the day. Thanks to the guy on the left.

*Second is quite an understatement.

8 random facts

I was tagged by Amit for this seemingly harmless activity. It has taken a LOT of my time to do this! So here are the rules for this game:

1. Each player starts with 8 random facts/habits about themselves.
2. People who are tagged, write a blog post about their own 8 random things, and post these rules.
3. At the end of your post you need to tag 8 people and include their names. Don’t forget to leave them a comment and tell them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.
4. If you fail to do this within eight hours, you will not reach Third Series or attain your most precious goals for at least two more lifetimes.

I am pretty much a goner when it comes to #4, cause I am doing this five days late! So I am not reaching Third Series and will not be attaining my most precious goals for at least two more lifetimes. Not very different from what it is now...!

So here they are - 8 random facts about me.

1. I love being busy. I am not a workaholic, and I love my weekends - but I must be doing something at all times.
2. When it comes to organization, my friends tell me that I have OCD (Obsessive-Compulsive *Delight*)
3. I am supremely accident prone. A classical case of trouble-magnetism. And I have a natural flair of making a complete fool of myself in the most impossible of situations.
4. I dig reading user manuals and safety manuals. That's the reason whenever my friends buy something new, I am given the user manual! As a gift. :D
5. I hate my glasses, but I love my wristwatch. I never take it off. Never.
6. I love watching movies of all possible genres. They could be foreign languages, limited edition movies, art movies, animation... but I choose what I want to watch.
7. I like meeting people. I don't care if my acquaintanceship lasts less than an hour - but if I end up having a nice rich conversation with this person, I feel great about it. But it's really difficult to find people of the same wavelength, and more so when they are strangers.
   
8. In my mind, I put things (people, activities etc.) in patterns. I don't use it for making judgments, but I just enjoy doing it.
   

Hmmm. So these are 8 random facts about me. And to continue the chain, I tag Abheet, WhoDunIt, Shreya, Saurabh, Dimple, Gaurav, Deepika and Shreyasee. Have fun!

Whatsisname

Americans pronounce Indian names better than Indians do. Or at least they do it more accurately. Yes, it's true! I am not kidding!

The most ludicrous habit of many government officials in India is look at the first alphabet of your name, and then at the last, and fill up the rest themselves. Some of them even decide to correct the way it is spelled and then put in on record.
I have ended up being named (on official records) as Kokanad (most common error), Kokanand, Kokenad, Kokonath, Kokanath. Without the blink of one or more eyes.
On one hilarious occasion, my brother Sayontan was called Shaitan.
Prayatn became Prashant. Anushaily became Anshuly (Anshulee).

Correcting the mistake on an official record in India would be a big headache, but if I write about that it should be classified under the label *Sigh* in my blog. So I am not going into that now.

Americans do have a tough time understanding the complicated concoction of syllables in Indian names, but atleast end up reading it thoroughly and even pronouncing it right! And the icing of the cake lies in the fact that each and everyone asks if they pronounced it right. Your face invariably breaks into a smile. A lab mate once approached me with the name "Ramachandran" and asked if "Remakandran" (accented) is the right way to pronounce it, because she didn't want to embarrass herself.

My friends and I had been witness to this incident...
A good friend of ours, ABCXYZ Singh, has had a crisis since she landed in the US, because she decided to dump her last name. Now here's the catch - in the US, it's extremely difficult to survive without a last name because every official record is on the basis of a last name. So they found a workaround and made her first name ABCXYZ as her last name and attributed "Unknown" as her first name. So her name, officially is, Unknown ABCXYZ. While we were getting issued our State ID cards, our first names were being called out. When it was her turn, there was a voice from a sweet old lady -
"Un-known"?
While we all giggled away, our friend walks up to the counter. The old lady is visibly embarrassed because she is sure that is not the right way to pronounce "Unknown".
"Oh honey, did I get your name right?"

Just a note: For many who ask me this question, the meaning of Kokonad is "red lotus" in Sanskrit.

Blink

Smoke from an extinguished candle.
Starched kurtas.
Milk powder.
Nice conversations.
Uneven mirrors.
Condensation on sides of a glass of cold water.
Melted cheese.
Soft contrasts.
4:00pm.
Dust on a table.
Snapping fingers in a candle fire.
Shifting sands due to wind.
Water rolling off a leaf.
Yawning babies.
Cool cushions.
Subtlety.
Shadows of leaves.
Smell of freshly baked cake.
Coffee with streaks of brown in foam.
Ice on torso.
Liquid stains on old pages.
Long emails that are years old.
Fire.
Spherical drops of water on fingernails.
Tall trees swaying together.
Watching babies trying to figure something out.
Spray of mist.
High speed winds.
Driving in convertibles.
View points.
Black & white photography.
Babies smiling at a camera.
Music that reaches a climax.
Smell of rain.
Sans serif fonts.
New cars.
Holding her hands, and in silence.
Winter afternoons.
Tacit smiles of understanding.
Chocolate melting in the mouth.
Dried up glue.
Seeing someone smile to oneself.
Right alignment.
Matte finish.
The colour orange.
Storms before rain.
Smell of leather upholstery.
Standing at the doors of trains at high speed.
Vaporising deodorant.
Orange on white.
Double entendre.
Fast piano.
Ink on tissue paper.
Drinking water after soanf.
Tango.

These are things I like. These are all that came to my mind. These are few of the thousands more.


Post Script: This was written in exactly 5 minutes (clocked) and closed. Just wanted to see what all came to my mind.

My Utopia

John Lennon's Imagine means more to me than a mere song. It reflects what kind of an idealist I am, and what kind of world I would love to live in. Today, as Winamp was playing songs from my 3000 strong playlist, Imagine came up in the random shuffle after a long time. I realised that this song was buried under scores of western classical, western oldies of the 60s and trance; and I had quite forgotten about it.

Here's Imagine, the world where I would be the happiest... My utopia.

Imagine by John Lennon

Imagine there's no Heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today

Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace

You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world

You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one

People don't see me talking highly of my country... I get looks of "How can you disrespect the years of struggle India has gone through to get independence?" Well, I do acknowledge and admire that, but it's not the country I am disrespectful towards; I am against the whole concept of territorialism.

I hate to see boundaries in humanity. I hate to see differentiation and bloodshed due to countries, religion, caste, colour and what not. We are a single species of mammals. Why can't we live by sharing the whole world?
I see fundamental flaws in human beings.
A destructive mind.
A quest for limelight and power.
A feeling of hatred seeing other people succeed.
An innate desire to see other people fail.
Why do we call it a rat race, when we truly are much worse than the rats?
Rats do it for food. For survival.
But we have all that.
Our main motive has become to outdo the other, and see the other suffer too.
We go wrong at a very grass root level. We do.
Can't we fix this? All we have to do is realise it...

An idealist, am I? A dreamer too, may be. Well, at least I imagine things that are happy. And I'm sure I'm not the only one.