the lithiumhead

Screaming through the air, tearing through the ether, they blast through everything in their path - almost everything. If they fail to achieve what they were born for, more are sent from whence they came. Sometimes flying free, Sometimes scrambling through guided channels, reincarnating repeatedly, changing form, jumping worlds. They arrive at their destination. A few pixels re modulate in the top right corner of your screen. "You were poked by Anurag Chugh poke back | remove poke"

Asphalt and Coal Tar are two distinct substance which are used construction of tarmac roads. Asphalt is used as a binder and coal tar is used as a sealant . And so if you are wearing new shoes (whose soles haven't had yet got coated with fine dust particles and hence become desensitized to sticky substances) and step on an area which has just been resurfaced, you are sure to get this dangerously sticky mixture of asphalt and tar and crushed rock aggregates embedded in crevices of your shoes' tread pattern.     Of course newly laid roads are required to be dusted with certain powder to make them not stick to tires and shoes.. but being India... sigh! Anyway, so I got them shits stuck to my shoes .. what was I supposed to do? A cobbler outside my office (and google search: team-bhp ), told me that it was possible to remove the guck from my shoes using kerosene... but again, being India, its difficult to get your hands on any kerosene if you aren't classified as being ...

Today, Kill, A few demons that haunt you. Overcome, Some fears that lie within you. Forgive, The comrades who left you. Let go, Of the inhibitions that restrain you. And, Acquire new demons and fears and dhokebaaz comrades and inhibitions... Experience, A new emotion that stirs you up. Start, An adventure that you dreamt up. Write, A new story that you thought up. Make, New friends of people you meet up. And, Stash away old emotions and past adventures and purani kahaniyan and childhood friends... Because, Life - Dynamic Equilibrium is where its at.

waaaonn waaaonn waaaonn I revolve around a nucleus, until.. blonggg! A photon hits me, absorbing into me, knocking me out of my orbit.. wheeeeeeeeee I zoom through the crystal lattice, accelerating around kernels, then suddenly... bammmmm! I hit one kernel smack in the middle, it captures me and makes me loose my photon. The photon hitches a ride parasitically from electron to electron until it reaches its destination - having carried a piece of information to its destination. These engineers, I tell you, they revere us electrons. They service our whims and fancies, manipulating us into doing work for them. The Electrical ones make us merry-go-round around wires extracting mechanical work from our forced sojourns The Radio Engineers make us go back and forth on antennas, causing us to emit photons which absorb into our counterparts in other antennas causing them to monkey us. They say that this monkeying is what carries information - frankly we fail to see this....

Two of my best friends got married to each other. 6 months later, the better half has this to say about her husband: shaadi ki album ka soft copy aaya, album dekhke yaad aaya ki kamine se shaadi kar li hi maine! arre sink hi nahi ho raha tha yaar hahaha! both of them have an uncanny ability of captioning the whole situation in a short symbolic manner. They are two of the most awesomest friends I have!

You are the great sculpturer, of sculptures and sculpting tools alike. Creator of furniture that holds in place all the micro-components of life. Holding the rungs of the spherical twisting ladder, the rungs whose sequence uniquely defines each of us. Folding on themselves like origami, under your influence, wandering chains of amino acids turn into enzymes - becoming tools that take apart, copy and mend our chemical ladders repeatedly. To build our bodies, secret instructions on the rungs are read and deciphered and followed, by miniature automatons, which owe their existence to you. You are the magic behind the most magical liquid - water Without you, the fibres of our clothes and our bodies would fall apart O holy hydrogen bond, I bow fold to thee.

The sponge has begun to drip. It is full; it has soaked all it can. So naive it was when it first started out - loving the sensation, feeling itself uncrinkling, as it began absorbing the sweet nectar of knowledge. It thought it could soak it all. What looked like a small puddle, on bloating and thus looking higher, turned out to be an immense unconquerable ocean. So today I, the possessor of this sponge, stand at the edge of this ocean, pinching repeatedly at my sponge, making it drip from the right places, allowing it to let go of selected wisdom - wisdom I think I no longer must hold on to, to make space for the ones I must yet acquire. I have chosen my stand. I know I cannot be an engineer any more. The Engineer's Ocean has grown beyond the capacity of a single sponge. I squeeze out drops of knowledge that don't resonate with what I have chosen to become - a specialist in search of problems. Problems that could only be washed away by a...