tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-339472292012-02-03T08:44:54.904-08:00Kaapi Prashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05561430871090366516noreply@blogger.comBlogger301100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33947229.post-91385645967742209832010-01-13T09:21:00.000-08:002010-01-13T09:42:36.503-08:00

As the sovereign crown prince of procrastination I herby proceed to fill in my loved ones on the remaining juicy bits of my Nice holiday, without much of that usual fuss about being the lazy butt. There is nothing much I could do about it all these years. Perhaps, it is an essential element in my chemical makeup, the additional element - Laziness (Lz). As the husky golden sun rose over the

Kaapi Prashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05561430871090366516noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33947229.post-19359280393256173612009-06-27T09:47:00.000-07:002009-06-27T09:58:08.416-07:00

Allow a bunch of geeks to decide upon a holiday, and what you end up with is tons and tons of email chains, and a blightedly disgruntled lot who have no idea if they ever would go on that damned holiday. After having changed the destination over a half a dozen times and dropping and including over another dozen people in the glowing list of vacationers, we had finalized the city of Nice in France

Kaapi Prashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05561430871090366516noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33947229.post-62370377012835850532009-02-08T10:22:00.000-08:002009-02-08T10:42:26.517-08:00

Images have always played a pivotal role in our human lives. Our minds seem to constantly gather, analyze, modify, classify and deduce from images. Interestingly, all other forms of inputs that we accrue through the other senses as well, get translated into images before they are worked upon by the mind. Be it smell, taste, sound or touch … there always is a picture that we naturally associate

Kaapi Prashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05561430871090366516noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33947229.post-78703992000199557182009-01-19T05:28:00.000-08:002009-01-19T05:46:25.455-08:00

If there is one thing that I so damn good at, it would be slipping into non-existance and cribbing about it. Ever so often, I get excited with some new found, fun filled change in the droning monotony of my life. But then, even before I realise, I would be fast letting things settle down with those powdery cobwebs over hanging. It is indeed an oxymoronic and highly ironic paradox (Ahh … it feels

Kaapi Prashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05561430871090366516noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33947229.post-52504744710402886252008-12-14T11:29:00.000-08:002008-12-14T12:33:35.689-08:00

Beauty is a very powerful force. It drives men and women to heights and feats far above their normal fill of dexterity. It fills the human spirit like a burgeoning balloon, lifting it up into the vast blue evanescent skies. Perhaps so it is to be. And for this reason is it termed God! Truth, Beauty and Bliss, the ancient scriptures intone in their gloriously pristine voices. For at the heart of

Kaapi Prashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05561430871090366516noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33947229.post-69479395960707306012008-12-02T11:22:00.000-08:002008-12-02T11:27:22.328-08:00

After a pretty long unexplained hiatus it feels good to be back. There are times in our lives that are so intense that we choose to snap all links and switch off from the rest of the world, with just the bare minimum left in place. Well ... it is more like an assumed hibernation, waiting for that damn blizzard or winter to die down or wear itself out, melt away or thaw. Gosh! I feel bad to turn

Kaapi Prashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05561430871090366516noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33947229.post-19746138791079472832008-06-10T21:16:00.000-07:002008-06-10T21:29:39.729-07:00

Sunny Sunday afternoons would normally see us feed like disdainful sophisticated creatures of elegant art at a rather sumptuous lunch at home; and then dash into the darkened A/C’ed room to fall flat like descendants of the pre historic lizard family, to wallow the rest of the afternoon in snore ridden short naps. Thanks to the bloody scorching sun for that delightful tropical Chennai climate

Kaapi Prashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05561430871090366516noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33947229.post-63766000614031576362008-05-25T07:20:00.000-07:002008-05-25T07:26:25.645-07:00

Daily news letters from the Men’s Health, 45 minutes at the gym at the crack of dawn, and a very strict luncheon diet of fresh salad. I am an obnoxious health freak. Often my mother would, if allowed, smash the pot of meticulously baked/fried/marinated cheese based European delicacy right into my face, when I make those sordid blood boiling home-food-is-to-carb-n-fat-ridden speech to a qualified

Kaapi Prashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05561430871090366516noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33947229.post-70574256478355293042008-04-01T02:13:00.000-07:002008-04-02T20:53:58.742-07:00

Come on. That’s more than a man can ever take. Around 10-15 mails a day talking about the glory of blogging and two trips filled with colorful snaps waiting to be written about and uploaded, screaming into my face every time I open my comp. So here I go … space man Spiff … on his ship exploring land, sea and air …. Blip, blip, blip with my radars going hay wire … Hmmm… perfectionist, as I am most

Kaapi Prashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05561430871090366516noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33947229.post-85662401886217590412007-12-19T22:12:00.000-08:002007-12-19T23:24:36.144-08:00

It was that time of the year when the chain of mails begin to pour in, trying to stir the hornet’s nest, asking for interesting holidays spots that the batch “Navis” can bless to press the signet of fond memories upon. As usual it was Jaggu and Bali who took the max initiative. The choices varied from hill stations to seasides, to thick unseen jungles. Anywhere, where the weather would be

Kaapi Prashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05561430871090366516noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33947229.post-41639531615940972802007-09-15T21:49:00.000-07:002007-09-15T23:05:43.588-07:00

I caught myself again with the same question being asked on my face. Every time I ping or get pinged by a log-time-no-see buddy, the second or the third “Q” that gets flung at me would be “Hey!... what happened to ur blog? … get that lazy ass of yours moving and get writing more regularly.” That’s when I stop … when some invisible hand comes out of the blue to hit me smack on my forehead …

Kaapi Prashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05561430871090366516noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33947229.post-85491717034442952142007-07-25T23:04:00.000-07:002007-07-25T23:05:48.477-07:00

No more would I be apologizing to the huge mad crowd of die hard fans that I keep imagining are out there reading my blog, for not having written regularly. But then again … my dastardly bloody ego, makes me put on airs as I turn up my collars in swelling pride over a few paltry, friendly (and deeply understanding) praises that I receive from long time acquaintances. Hmmm…. Ego, what a damnable

Kaapi Prashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05561430871090366516noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33947229.post-4191565537090893752007-06-03T20:35:00.000-07:002007-10-05T00:03:14.886-07:00

It was a very hectic day for all of us at home. It was the 27th of May, a day for which, each year, as kids all three of us bro, sis and myself would stash away all our pocket money. Back when we were kids, on the evening of 26th we would pull out all those crumpled notes that had been so carefully tucked away into all unthinkable corners of our house and make a secret expedition to

Kaapi Prashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05561430871090366516noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33947229.post-76695898149708724652007-05-27T23:38:00.000-07:002007-05-28T00:03:24.878-07:00

Innocent and studious, I sit at my comp browsing at harmless sites when all of a sudden there is that nefarious ring of a cow-bell…. a long live, die hard buddy who has this sweetest of thoughts to catch up with matters of greater importance on that devilish thing called Google talk. “bum…. Where are the US pics? Why the bloody hell haven’t you uploaded your holiday snaps yet?” …. “HOLIDAY” …

Kaapi Prashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05561430871090366516noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33947229.post-67490541982939229362007-03-08T08:53:00.000-08:002007-03-08T08:57:53.910-08:00

Often I’ve come across people whose very existence is beautiful. They are not people of importance, they are not people of influence… they are not even perfectionists. But they are those, who are a universe onto themselves. They do what they do because they believe strongly in it. They are like wild flowers that bloom by the way side, in all their beauty and color. They don’t bloom for

Kaapi Prashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05561430871090366516noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33947229.post-35474714338274549232007-03-05T14:07:00.000-08:002007-03-05T14:16:44.597-08:00

I came across a very interesting site that gave away 1 quality software for free everyday. Infact, I downloaded a couple of them too. From the user comments for every software that is put up for download, you can gather the usefulness or installation impact of it on your machine. More to it!... they even give away a game of the day. I am not sure of the quality of the games they give away ... for

Kaapi Prashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05561430871090366516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33947229.post-15309597293212974762007-02-21T18:07:00.000-08:002007-02-21T18:21:11.551-08:00

I was happening to watch a film while flipping channels on a lazy Sunday afternoon laying sprawled on my bed. I knew not of the name of the film or cared less to find what channel it was being aired on. It was a scene of a sunny day in a village where an middle aged son was back home after winning a piano in a rowdy bet at a drinking hole down at the town's square. It was a poor and simple

Kaapi Prashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05561430871090366516noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33947229.post-7213929780110465032007-02-05T00:01:00.000-08:002007-02-05T00:08:40.608-08:00

Wooooo! There was a mad spate of ultra frequent eat outs in a short span of a month, that I couldn’t simply sit down to pen my thoughts on any one of them. So here I am back … but this time around I want to write about all the gloriously warm and dull lit, softly aroma filled restaurants I chanced visiting. To begin with ... the entire tide of outings got spurred

Kaapi Prashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05561430871090366516noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33947229.post-54709326519245087622006-10-31T22:41:00.000-08:002007-12-13T20:52:35.390-08:00

After a long and tiring day, we were deep in the depths of groggy sleep. All the curtains were pulled in place to simulate a clouded wind blow day, with the A/C in full blast. Somewhere in the dark bottomless pit of our gama states we heard the faint tones of our phone ringing. Pushing the cover off and walking out of bed like a zombie out of its grave, my mother went to get the phone. “Hello…

Kaapi Prashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05561430871090366516noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33947229.post-55689068782817707122006-10-08T07:28:00.000-07:002006-10-08T07:38:33.780-07:00

These were the last few words that kept ringing in my ears, leaving me with an insuppressibly silly happy smile, when the movie came to an end: “Some birds aren't meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows that it was a sin to lock them up does rejoice.” Shawshank Redemption, was more of a song

Kaapi Prashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05561430871090366516noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33947229.post-14787625571228196692006-09-25T09:52:00.000-07:002006-09-25T09:53:51.702-07:00

It was another boring day at work. The dirty bug we are trying to nail has been evading us for the past three days. And every time the software crashes... it is due to a different reason. Adding to the gloom the grubby horizon turned a threatening dark grey. Bugged of debugging and aimless browsing, I swiveled around in my chair to see the same state of affairs with Bali. Feeling the

Kaapi Prashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05561430871090366516noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33947229.post-16386178750817961012006-09-23T20:51:00.000-07:002006-09-23T21:24:43.696-07:00

It had been a real long time since the three of us (Sara, Bali and I) went out for dinner. So, on one fine boring-post-coffee-break afternoon, it struck me to propose an outing. It was readily accepted. Generally, with respect to matters of food and drink we follow a strict code of honor --- “Never say no/enough!” We fixed the dinner for a Thursday night. And as usual ... Sara calls up

Kaapi Prashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05561430871090366516noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33947229.post-76140933561005474602006-09-22T09:14:00.000-07:002006-09-22T09:37:03.393-07:00

It is still a surprise, how the whole thing came thru. Seven of us in different places, stuck with our own busy schedules. But I guess it was those timely kinks that pop when you go thru, an otherwise droning hum of meaningless, well structured dumb life. Most of us felt it deep ... that we needed to break away into some freaky oblivion ... some sun kissed beautiful mountain or some shell strewn

Kaapi Prashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05561430871090366516noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33947229.post-85012421273413838942006-09-20T05:39:00.000-07:002006-09-20T05:40:42.501-07:00

I guess this is one of the best part of my student life that I can ever remember.... sleeping on the hostel terrace. Somewhere in the beginning of the academic year, a couple of our batch mates got together to paint the floor of the terrace with a special white powder which would help reflect most of the merciless heat of the scorching summers. The terrace is a wide expanse of open floor with no

Kaapi Prashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05561430871090366516noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33947229.post-58429305780635359712006-09-20T05:36:00.000-07:002006-09-20T05:39:06.934-07:00

It was a beautiful star filled night sky above us, on that cool winter night. We were three of us, Shibu, Venkat and myself. We used to sleep on the hostel terrace every night. Normally we chat till 2 in the morning and then fall asleep. If in the course of our chatting, we get to feel hungry, we would run down to another class mate of our, who is incharge of the hostel stores and wake him up

Kaapi Prashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05561430871090366516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33947229.post-72286551972564962552006-09-12T23:40:00.000-07:002006-09-13T00:53:00.539-07:00

I must have written much earlier … when the memory of it all was still fresh and vivid in my mind. Often as I read big fat novels describing soulful escapes into thick green unsullied jungles …. I have found myself dreaming of a gurgling brook of crystal water running through a canopy of dancing shadows of heavy branches … with the sunlit patches of the forest floor forming a thousand

Kaapi Prashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05561430871090366516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33947229.post-12050742480707806152006-09-12T23:29:00.000-07:002006-09-12T23:40:31.446-07:00

After a long week of rebellious planning and last minute hitches and change in schedules, we managed to find ourselves on a bus that took us to our weekend adventure spot - Mahabalipuram. Before I could talk of all the fun we had, I must.... shall we say ...pause in awe to gape at the grandeur and mystery that shrouds the place. No one knows for sure when or how or even for what Mahabalipuram

Kaapi Prashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05561430871090366516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33947229.post-91191799198606283432006-09-12T04:26:00.000-07:002006-09-12T05:00:55.566-07:00

Sitting in my office cafeteria and flipping through the day’s Hindu, I came upon a small snippet of a write up on a blogger’s meet here in Chennai. Hmmm… blogging has always held my fancy, but I never did justice to it. But oh! … hold it … it was on the following weekend … and that too a few blocks away from my workplace. The thought of a much awaited weekend slipping through your fingers and a

Kaapi Prashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05561430871090366516noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33947229.post-1157647249061760342006-09-07T09:25:00.000-07:002006-09-07T09:40:49.136-07:00

Back when I was a kid, waking everyday to the tunes of the first song played on the national TV … “Vande Mataram” evoked a very special feeling in my little proud chest. Little did I know that this feeling is the basic sense of belonging to a larger entity, and is labeled as “Patriotism”. As I grew up, I learnt more of the song and its poignant history. The song was written by Bankim Chandra

Kaapi Prashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05561430871090366516noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33947229.post-1157541657626241972006-09-06T04:06:00.000-07:002006-09-06T04:25:17.273-07:00

Woooo.... there is so much to write about and I simply couldn't keep myself from it. Well, to begin with ... this whole blogging thing gives me the feeling that I tore out of a dark room ... tumbling onto a sunny meadow. Guess I should be doing this as often as I can ... Oh!... by the way, if u get to read this and feel u could help me out in getting to be a better blogger ... do lay your

Kaapi Prashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05561430871090366516noreply@blogger.com1