www.iitk.ac.in hacked yet again!

The saga continues, almost after a year, and the site is hacked yet again. Luckily this time they did it during the day, it got taken care of very quickly. Can you guess what they must have done? No points for guessing . A simple REBOOT! Yeah, thats the way to do it. They don’t care if you hack or not. They can;t do much either . Limited by their skills may be, but the frequency and ease with the site is being hacked, its really alarming and casts a serious doubt about they way things are done at this place. I leave the rest for you to judge!

 

Enjoy the pics!

After The Hack 

The World without I

 

There are times when “We” loses importance and I, me and myself comes to the fore. It is normal to look at what one has, what one wants but just looking at it with a myopic vision and a self-centered attitude can lead neither “I” nor “We” anywhere. The recent rise in this is really alarming. Is it because, the world is getting fast, or the is it because the world is coming closer. But wouldn’t coming closer meaning amalgamation of thoughts, aspirations and needs?

Has it just become a wild goose chase for getting something for oneself? Have we lost it totally and let down the” We” in us? Looks like it. There is a feeling going around that its not our concern, it doesn’t matter. But this will be nothing but closing all doors and sleeping inside, keep safe, let it happen what’s happening outside. Down comes a building or there is some injustice going around, who cares?

One way to look at it is, to see the unusual way in which one can be dreaming that it is he that is important and not the world. The world will lose if he is not there, he won’t if he doesn’t care. This is nothing short of an outright foolish way of inviting loneliness. The crime in thinking is that almost all of us know that many “I” combine together to make a “We”, yet we think the “I” is better and bigger. Isn’t this ostrich like behaviour? The whole is greater than the sum of its parts, so “We” is much much bigger than all “I” , let alone one of them.

It’s time we open our eyes and realize that a flawed thinking won’t lead us anywhere. It’s time we make a world without I.

 

 

The Pink Sky

I woke up in the morning, did the usual, had some food and started walking. I kept on walking, looking for the end of road or the end of land, I was getting tired, but every time i felt like stopping, it would feel that it’s just there. And finally I reached that place.

It was not dark, it was neither bright, the solitary place looked as if there was no one but me. I looked around to see if I can find life, if not human life. The effort went in vain, the only living thing, I could find was me. Hungry and thirsty, I had no idea what to do. I decided, surprisingly to lie down and wait for someone to come. After a while I felt, someone waking me up, I was startled to see it all pink. My God! The sky was pink! I was scared, I didn’t know what to do. It all happened in the blink of an eye. But before I could think anymore, a female voice spoke,” Who are you? What are you doing here?” I was happy yet cautious. I thought,” Who is this? Anyways, there is someone finally.” I decided to ask the voice the same and did so. 

The voice said, I am a girl, I live nearby. And at that moment I realised, the sky was not pink, I was looking through her saree. At that moment, if she had said, that she was some goddess, I would have believed her. She had worn a beautiful pink silk saree and a matching blouse. And she was looking ravishing. The beautiful eyes and the radiant face, it was like someone never out in the sun, someone who had been carefully preserved just for that moment. Her voice was melody given a life. At that moment, I had a doubt if I was really there or not. 

All this while she was saying things to me, and I was so awestruck by her magnifying presence, I did not hear anything. At, last she touched me and said,Hello! 

The next moment, I was below my bed!

Love Story A Beginning

There was this girl called Neha , a drop-dead gorgeous angelic beauty.. She was so charming that the charm of the glistening of the dew drops were no match .. She was so sparkling that the sparkles of the diamond pieces wondered ” oh we thought we were beautiful”.. She was so innocent that the leaves of the good old Banyan tree kept looking at her in admiration. Her smile  so delicate, delicious and delightful that people ill for ages would just become alive .. her voice so enchanting engaging and enjoyable even the woods would say oh darling just speak again , we want to be immortal. 

There was this guy called Rohan , an average looking but decent boy. He had all ills of a normal human being his age but had some positives to add to his resume. 

The guy just saw this girl and fell in love , he had all the fears of falling in love with someone so divine and graceful, but the charm of that still image of the look he had of her in his mind was so alluring and exquisite, he just couldn’t stop himself. So within his heart , in on silent corners , he pursued this passion , this regard, this devotion, this emotion and this Love for the so very sublime creature 

Times went by and then weeks , then months and years , every moment passed on as ages , one day he grabbed the courage and wrote this letter to her saying : 
“Dear Princess ,
You might not be pleased to get this missive from this commoner, but this man has no option but to pray to you that be kind to him . He is so very awed by your divine and precious beauty that he cannot think of anything but you . Though what he has just done may be just too much for him but he could not stop but fall in love with you. 

I pray that you accept my love or just give me permission to get free from this life as this life is nothing but a process without any purpose without you and your love “ 

The girl , got surprised and shocked but she replied in a graceful manner maintaining the dignity as well as the true softness of her heart. 

Times passed and with some years passing by and some events happening , they both fell in love and so madly in love that they could both hear each other’s heartbeats from distances so far apart. There was so much love that even the thought of one just made the air around and warm and full of the fragrance resembling the other. The love was so strong true and pure that even from thousands of miles she kissed him and he could just feel the wetness of her lips on his . When they held hands it was like the blood from one was flowing into other just to carry the love fluid from one to another.He could see the pictures in her eyes even when she had her eyelids closed… The love was so lovely that it was just love and love and love.. It was so very beautiful that it was Love 

and the love is still on and will always be there because there can be no eraser which can erase the love they have , there can be nothing that can just cut their hearts off.. one can keep their bodies away but their hearts will always be together 

Why Arsene Wenger should be proud rather than cowed!

It is a tragedy of apocalyptic dimensions, a human catastrophe comparable to the melting of the ice-caps and the devastation of the rainforests rolled into one. Arsenal have been knocked out of the Champions League and have all but run out of steam in the race for the Barclays Premier League title. Anyone not inclined to lament, mourn and bewail this fact is not in possession of a soul.

You may say that I am exaggerating, but this is about more than mere football. It is about music and poetry, aesthetics and artistry, hope and audacity. Arsène Wenger could have instructed his team to play with the dispiriting pragmatism so beloved of his rival managers, but the mercurial Frenchman was not prepared to betray his nobler ideals, even when it might have improved his club’s chances of success.

Arsenal’s relentless and unadulterated pursuit of beauty has itself been a thing of beauty: a daring, epic and ultimately doomed journey that has taken the English game, against all expectation, into the territory of the artistic. Wenger has done more for neutral supporters in one season — talking spiritually now, talking of our moral fabric — than an eternity of watching the spirit-sapping utilitarianism of men such as José Mourinho and Rafael Benítez.

Wenger’s posse of swashbuckling and tragic youngsters embraced the vision of their leader with the naive enthusiasm of foot soldiers and now they look around themselves at the ruins. But they should not despair. Liverpool, their conquerors on Tuesday night, may go on to lift the European Cup next month, yet what are trophies except meaningless baubles that moth and rust destroy? What Arsenal have achieved this season will endure far longer, if only in the hearts of those of us who have watched them.

Who has been inspired by Benítez’s Liverpool or Avram Grant’s Chelsea beyond the core constituencies of Merseyside and West London, who cheer out of filial loyalty and never from aesthetic appreciation? Who in their right mind could watch a Liverpool or Chelsea performance and find a wide and happy smile arriving on their surprised lips?

This is not an argument that is pro-Arsenal any more than it is anti-Liverpool: Arsenal under George Graham were as dull and draining as Liverpool under Bob Paisley were thrilling. No, it is about celebrating something in Wenger’s team that goes far beyond success and failure; it is about saluting a philosophy that owes as much to Sartre as it does to Rinus Michels. Wenger understands that, in this curious journey called life, there are things that matter beyond the merely functional.

The Frenchman and his players will be feeling something close to desolation. They woke yesterday with their hopes and dreams, which were within grasping distance a few weeks ago, in tatters. But rather than despair, they should celebrate that they have imbued football with an aesthetic meaning that it has not enjoyed since the retirement of Pelé, Carlos Alberto and Co. They are glorious, even though they have been vanquished. They are glorious, perhaps, because they have been vanquished.

There was a time when it looked as if the English game was doomed to be strangled by route-one football. It is visionaries such as Wenger and the evergreen Sir Alex Ferguson who have resisted this calamity. Manchester United’s attacking luminosity and Arsenal’s intricate creativity have offered an alternative vision of the sport that, it must be hoped, will be embraced by a new generation of managers and coaches.

Football is becoming the beautiful game again. And, for that, we must thank, above all, the incomparable Wenger.

Courtesy:Matthew Syed

 http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/sport/football/premier_league/arsenal/article3717226.ece

That Illusive Perfect First Date!

It so happened again, I saw someone updating her “The idea of perfect first date” again. It was like, she never could decide what was a real perfect first date for her! Now there is this thought how can someone know whether this will be perfect or not, unless they do take timeout and go for such a date. Further we may doubt if they were not sure of the perfectness of the previous dream date, how can the new virtual date be perfect. Anyways its human, to think, imagine and wonder. And there is nothing wrong in it either!

Here it comes again the wonder whether something perfect really exists, I believe so. Perfection exists not just in our thoughts but in reality, when we do enjoy what we are doing and cant think of any shortcomings at the moment, isn’t it perfect? Yes, it is. If there was nothing which could undermine our happiness, reduce our joy, then how come we can call something as not perfect in retrospect. Some might argue, that it was momentary and in reality it was just a mistake, short sightedness etc. But I disagree on this, it might not be perfect now, but at that moment it was perfect, so we have no real right to doubt the perfectness of something which we already deemed as perfect. Confused? Let me do it again. Something we enjoyed to the full and deemed it to be perfect, but later on, due to happenings related or unrelated to the perfect thing, we find this thought lingering that we were mistaken, it was not perfect, I disagree with this idea. Whatever be the reasons that lead us to doubt something perfect to be not perfect anymore, it might not be perfect anymore, but it was perfect then, so its criminal to doubt perfectness after the moment when it ceases to exist!

Thats all