I want what all men want, I just want it more

Men are haunted by the vastness of eternity; and so we ask ourselves: Will our actions echo across the centuries? Will strangers hear our names long after we are gone, and wonder who we were, how bravely we fought, how fiercely we loved?

I had a chat with an old friend yesterday night when he told me that we would be meeting at least three times during Ramzaan to have some some parties. He mentioned about a trip we should make to Pizza Hut and maybe some other places too. I just told him that the day before I had slept at 4 am in the morning after working for the presentation of a project in college, and I told him that I have a mock test to write on Sunday. I just wanted to show him that I was busy and might not be able to commit on my presence whenever he goes out with rest of the friends in Ramzaan.

I have already began to feel an aversion towards the 'Iftaar meal' Pizza Hut offers during the holy month - it gives an option between two varieties: a chicken flavor and a vegetarian one; the crusts of both of which taste like compressed marie biscuit moistened with water. The last year I had this four times - once for myself, and the rest of the times for my friends. This time, I will try to keep that number at zero.

Yesterday along with two of my friends I gave our final year's project's seminar. I enjoyed the time I spent on making the slides; even after keeping myself busy and concentrated on one thing for 5 continuous hours in front of the computer I didn't get even a slight feeling of doing any hardwork. But I wasn't satisfied with the way I gave the presentation. The first two minutes during the talk I found myself tensed; and when I began to feel comfortable, my mouth tried up and I was not able to talk fluently. Due to the dryness my tongue was getting glued to the upper palate in the mouth. Alhamdulillah I could manage.

We have been asked to submit a report on the seminar and I am in no mood right now to give a thinking to it. Maybe tomorrow, when I feel like, I will do it. When I went to bed at 4 am on Friday, the only worry I had was about the presentation slides - I was worried what would happen if my computer crashed. Unlike how I save my all my important files on GooglePages, I had not saved the presentation. Alhamdulillah it was safe when I woke up. I spent an hour more in the morning.

I think I would be obliged if the presentations could come of any help to anybody. The links are
http://xubayr.z.googlepages.com/ElectronicBankingUsingScrambledData.ppt
http://xubayr.z.googlepages.com/rijndael_ingles20041.swf
I created a copy of all my bookmarks on the Internet and saved copy of it as an HTML file. Here it is. http://xubayr.z.googlepages.com/all_bookmarks.html

Is It Really Madness?

Yesterday I wrote three poems. I badly wanted to write something unlike what I do for this blog. I wrote several lines and deleted them before I could write a poem that hardly rhymed. But I felt nice after having published it on Gridlocked (xubayr2.blogspot.com). I composed it using Google documents and posted it directly from there. I got a further urge to type and I ended up writing two more on same ideas but contradicting perspectives. I wanted to play with lines this time. I smiled at what I did.

I have blocked Gridlocked from public viewing and only my friends who received the invitation can read it. I have some poems and posts on it I don't want everybody to read them. But I wanted these three things I wrote yesterday to be kept open and also available on search engines. And so, I created a web page using Microsoft Publisher, created an account on www.6te.net and uploaded that page to get it hosted on the Internet. I knew this as a possibility to host such pages but I have tried it myself for the first time. It took some time but I can do it anytime now again. The link to the page and of course those poems is http://xubayr.6te.net.

In the evening today we went out for dinner. It was only vegetarian. I had a heavy fruit juice after that. It was after a long time that I tasted this type of food. Earlier in the afternoon I had vegetarian again with fried ladies finger which was cooked by me. My mother had left the vegetable cut in the morning and I just had to fry it. It took me a good 15 minute exercise with the pan before I could get the ladies finger in a good color. Though I used right amounts of salt and oil, it didn't taste like how my mother cooks.

A few days back I read some of my old posts, I went across a letter, and an article I had named as "This Is Madness". I read the last paragraph first and started laughing. I called myself mad. When I read that letter I felt rather embarrassed thinking about the number of people who might have read it without my knowledge. Perhaps it was my mistake. Or perhaps it was just a necessity. Whatever it was, it wasn't understood well. There were two replies from my friends to that letter and I read one of them. I felt better after that.

The paragraph which I read was: "You like being called mad and you love to be mad. You wish even ~ calls you mad. You are mad for ~. And you are proud to be so. You even know that the person reading this is going to term you as a mad. You want that to happen because you are mad. This, of all things, is madness." To many it looked fiction. For me it was a thanksgiving to myself.

When Something Becomes Irreplaceable

A few back I downloaded some songs I found in the "top 100" at billboard.com. I had done this last just a few days before my hard-drive crashed earlier this year. I had kept my collection updated till then, but after the 'catastrophe' I never minded old music ringing in my ears. Among the new ones there are two I liked a lot - "Hey there Delilah" and "Big girls don't cry". I also have a collection of video songs exceeding 4.6 Gb in space. It's been too long since I have updated it.

After attending the mock CAT in the morning today, I went to Hari Hara Kala Bhavan to attend a promotional meeting of eBiz. I don't mean to join that business group, I just wanted to know how they work. And as always, any such kind of meeting teaches tons of new ideas and makes us think beyond what we thought we previously could. eBiz is typically a networking marketing business. I somehow found that the people speaking there were doing just what I had read in all the books on business and money I had been through till now.

"Get A Life", which I finished a few days back was specifically targeted at the readers to teach them every basic of network marketing. Today's meeting just showed me how such ideas are put into work - though I felt things could have been much better and more professional - and how the people who have a peculiar Telugu accent and a similar mind-frame perform when they are put into this "people's" business. I am not a racist, but there are things that pinch me; I hate people who talk English without knowing how idiotic and foolish they appear. They forget that they need to learn grammar and teach themselves how to avoid using their mother-tongue-accent.

Yesterday evening when I reached home after 8 pm an old school friend turned up at my house. He lives in Amravati and was here just to attend this meeting. It was he who invited me to it. I took it as an opportunity to spend some time with him and also have myself get some more wisdom. I have always wanted to get along with my uncle who works with Amway's and attend his weekly meetings which are usually on Fridays and Saturdays. I never got a chance. I have read quiet a few books he gave me about his business and I enjoyed all of them. I find the products sold by Amway's more interesting. No other brand can compare the quality of their products with Amway's and no other brand can dare have such high prices!

Earlier yesterday, in the afternoon, I was out with my mother to purchase a new refrigerator. A couple of weeks back some part in our old one cracked and water began to leak. I am sure the company's technician would have fixed it for less than 300 bucks but my mother felt she should have a new machine. She told me that she was tired of seeing the old thing and that it has been in the house for more than eight years now. I simply said to myself "Oh! She is attaching emotions to the purchase". I always welcome anything new and I love seeing how my house is a home and keeps becoming much better.

I have a reason why I mention about this purchase: after having the machine installed and working yesterday late in the night, I stood in front of me to see that it was taller then me. I couldn't see it's top surface. Some months back I had a dream in which I saw a similar scene. In it I remember myself standing in front of a tall blue refrigerator with "Kelvinator" written on it. The one that stands in the kitchen now is tall but metallic grey in color, and has Samsung written on it. If Allah wants we can even fulfil the dreams we see in sleep.

On Wednesday my mother called me "haara hua aashiq" (failed lover). My beard had grown a little beyond the level of comprehension I can have here now, and even my brother had started teasing me. He called me "Devdas". He has done that several times before. I never gave any seriousness to it until this Wednesday.

People sometimes talk and then think about what they had spoken. Sometimes they think and then talk. The pity is when there is no thinking - neither before, nor after. They don't know what they are saying and they never desire to have a realization of that anytime. That was exactly how my mother was on Wednesday. I left the room soon after she said that. Everybody was laughing taking it as a joke and I smiled too. I don't expect any contemplation on this from anybody but somethings go beyond the necessary endurance levels. And this is when I understand that I need to learn more. That I need to learn to hear and see things which I don't want to have being said or done. I could have well understood this without an example of such intensity. That was definitely a Wednesday to remember!

A few days after I posted the update "Here Is A Challenge", one of my friends told me that I shouldn't have written all that when we miss so many prayers and listen to so much music (the starting paragraph of this post makes it apparent). He somehow failed to understand what I was writing. He related skipping of prayers as an act that would make me 'bad' or a 'person with bad character'. But I somehow felt that he had taken up that challenge! He never understood it.

Everyday when I go to sleep, before laying myself on the bed, after brushing my teeth, I sit and pray for sometime. There are several verses of the Holy Quran I recite to myself and all this takes around 15 minutes and sometimes more. But there is one part that makes it more satisfying for me. I recollect the names of as many people I can who matter to me and pray for their well being - many names taken and prayed for individually. I have been doing this for several years now and I pray for myself in the end.

There is again a specific reason why I have written it here even when there are hardly any people who know I do such a thing. Even my parents don't know it. Ever since the day my grandfather expired in February, I have been finding it difficult to skip his name when his turn comes in the order. I, so many times tend to pray for him too when I am supposed to pray for peace to be with him in his grave. I remember him daily and feel his presence around me for sometime. I don't know for how long this is going to continue. How much I wish he was still here with me in this world. How much I wish I could tell him how much I love him.

When I go further in the order, just before my name, there used to another name which I had to remove on purpose. That was a task. It makes me feel terrible everyday when I ardently and intentionally try my best to keep away from that name. It hurts me even more recollecting the days when I would pray so much for that person, and comparing those days with the times I had now. Those days had hopes in them. It's all a blank space now. People only tease me in every way they can.

On Thursday I gave a photo copy of my passport to my mother. She said the bank authorities wanted a proof of my address to keep my bank account running. It was a frustrating behavior of the bank again. This same bank account is the one I had used as a proof of address to obtain my passport and now I am using that very passport to help keep the account active and operational. It's so ironic they keep the regulations and rules in such an irregular and irresponsible way. Some say it's the system that must be blamed. But why blame some mechanism that has no life in it? It's the people who made this system who should be put to blame and the people who run it who must be punished. It's Allah who decides.

Give it any word. It won't matter much

I tasted petrol today. It gave a burning pain on my lips and it's taste lasted in my mouth for more than two hours even after I brushed my teeth and washed my mouth with a toothpaste like Glister. There was an air-lock in the tube that takes fuel from the tank and pours it into the filter in the car's engine. The problem surfaced when the battery turned weak and made me do several things that lead to the emptying of fuel from the tank. I had to get the battery recharged first and then call a mechanic.

I considered doing the mechanic's part by myself. I remembered seeing such a thing being done before. I removed the two nuts holding the air-filter on top of the engine, dislocated two tubes, and sucked out petrol from one of them. I tried to start the car after this but couldn't. I tried sucking again; this time more than before, and it worked. I spat whatever liquid that went into my mouth back into the filter's opening. I had seen the mechanic do such a thing.

It gave me a sense of victory when I heard the engine roaring like normal. But when I was fixing the filter back again, a nut slipped and rolled somewhere inside the engine. It was dark and searching didn't prove effective. I had to put some other nut there and close the bonet. It was the petrol that made me write all this here. Petrol has alcohol content in it. It's raining now and that relieves me of cleaning the vehicle.

I stayed home all day again. I had no reason to go to the college. I finished reading the book "Get A Life". I had kept it unfinished for long and finally today a bookmark went back into it's stack. There are three more such bookmarks, fixed in three more books, waiting to go back to their friends. I will free one in a day or two. The other two will have to wait longer. I am looking for a book named "Business At The Speed Of Thought".

I had been thinking of the idea of puppy love for some time and that reminded me of the song -

"And they called it puppy love
Oh, I guess they'll never know
How a young heart really feels
And why I love her so

And they called it puppy love
Just because we're in our teens
Tell them all it isn't fair
To take away my only dream

I cry each night my tears for you
My tears are all in vain
I'll hope and I'll pray that maybe someday
You'll be back in my arms once again

Someone, help me, help me, help me please
Is the answer up above
How can I, how can I tell them
This is not a puppy love"

There will be a time sometime again

Yesterday around 1 pm I lay myself in the drawing room and fell asleep when I felt my father holding my hand. He was sitting close to me rubbing my palm and asking me to wake up in a soft voice. That reminded me of my childhood days when I used to sleep with him hugging him, when I would greet him every evening with a hug, when we would go for a walk late in the night and I would hold his warm hand feeling security in the touch. We go for walks even now but it's different. Allah has blessed me with wonderful parents.

Yesterday around 7:3o pm I began to feel something very heavy in my heart. I began to feel myself afraid of something, very uncomfortable, something very terribly sad. I spent more than 30 minutes trying to understand the reason. I spent an equal amount of time working to figure out what action would make me feel better. I considered talking to some friend, I sat with my parents, tried writing a poem, tried updating the blog - came out with just one paragraph, I even tried to cry thinking it would pour the fear - or whatever it was - out. Nothing worked.

Then a friend called up and we spoke for about 10 minutes. It wasn't of much help but still it was good. Then I had a very short conversation with another friend through SMS and it was then that I began to feel better. Late in the night I had an online chat with another friend and that polished the relief. All the time I was afraid that I wouldn't get sleep and that an execrable night awaited for me. Alhamdulillah I went to bed contended and painless.

When trying to soothe myself I even listened some music. I somehow felt that loud music was a bit pacifying. Immediately I was hearing to some big beats and fast songs. For a second I felt I should dance. I was instantly reminded of the song "Hotel California" where there in a stanza - "some dance to remember, some dance to forget". Perhaps there was something I wanted to forget desperately that made me feel so. I understood that line much better yesterday.

I was even reminded of the speech I had written for the farewell party given to our seniors in April. I had skipped that function for several reasons I am not in a mood to get into now. In the inaugural talk which I had penned sitting at 2:30 am two days before that party, I had mentioned this line thinking that it would be understood there at the feast. But yesterday, I myself realized it. But I didn't dance. Maybe I can dance to help forgetting, but I have been barred from my religion to do such a thing even if it is for remembering.

In the afternoon a friend came to my house and stayed till late evening. Another friend arrived around 8:30 pm and stayed till 1 am. We watched the movie "Pursuit of Happiness" starring Wills Smith and his own son Christopher Smith. It was one of the best movies I have even seen. The movie is a true story of Chris Gardner who right now - in the real world - is a millionaire. He owns a firm named Gardner Rich.

Six of my very good friends got selected in Accenture.Two of them are still going to join Infosys. So many people, on Saturday, asked me why I was not trying for this particular company and my only reply to each of them was: "Why should I try when I am already placed in Infosys?" Nobody gave a reply to that. I wanted at least one person to give a fitting answer and get me to thinking and possibly even make me regret not trying. I have my own reasons for not trying. They were telling that Accenture was the "dream company". I just thought to myself, "yes of course, Accenture is a dream company. Are they giving away the company?" Two of my selected friends spent two days while getting selected. But yesterday evening when I saw one of them having his status message on Yahoo messenger as "Infosys Rocks", I just said silently "yes, that's the spirit". Acenture (ACN) is definitely a good company - on NASDAQ it's value per share was $40 today. INFY is worth more than $45 per share. Investment is my "dream idea" - more important.

Some Battles are Fought for Victory; Some even for a loss; I never had a Choice

I have a deep cut on the right side of my tongue now and I thank Allah that I am used to chewing food in the left side of my mouth. I bit myself hard when I was having my lunch. It brought tears in my eyes and I made a tissue absorb so much blood of mine I never saw before. I considered preserving that soft paper so red in color, smiled at myself, and trashed it.

You are a fact. I am the truth.

I finalized my final year project today evening and the next most important thing is the acceptance of it's abstract. I am doing it with two of my friends and we have named it as EBSD - Electronic Banking using Scrambled Data. I will put my best to keep in lines with what all the name suggests. We are implementing Advanced Encryption Standard (AES) in an online banking application and I took up this application after considering online billing and generation of medical transcription reports. These two couldn't convince me.

I already have the algorithm and coding for AES but I have no idea how we are going to have the banking application working. I have hardly worked on Java and whatever I saw on .NET was too less to even think about it as the technology to be used. I am hoping that the maximum part could be done using web-based programing. I will put the modeling part of the documentation on my other two friends.

I didn't do much today apart from thinking what to do. I don't know how time went by. I am still feeling strange that I am not going to try for Accenture given that a few days back I was so excited about it. I don't want to think about it. I just want to realize deeply how important CAT is for me; that it has given me sleepless nights and how important it is for me to study at a premier institute.

comfort in the truth?

I had a friend here at home today till around 9:30 pm. He came in the afternoon after attending an off-campus placement program where he waited for the test till late afternoon and left when it was getting unbearable for him to wait. We spent a lot of time on the computer testing some new softwares. We even spent some time on talking about the companies coming to colleges for recruitments. That's what everybody is talking of now days.

We have Accenture coming to our college on 25th, the coming Saturday. As of yet I have no motivation to attend. I might be having a good chance of getting selected there and maybe if I am confident I will definitely get through but I am falling short of reasons to try. I am already there in Infosys which was a part of failing my objective. I just went there for my mother and just to have something in my hands. That has already derailed me and I am trying hard to come back.

I am doing fine these days, having good sleep and enjoying. If by any chance I end up not getting selected, it would hurt me a lot. I also don't believe in the notion that participation is important. I believe that winning is not an option but the only thing. I don't want to play cards when I risk losing my happiness. It would rather be gambling. Initially I did think of going full-throttle for Accenture, but some wisdom has brought me down.

I was home all day today and wasted a lot of time. Everyday I waste time, I spend the evening in heavy guilt and pathos. I know there are so many productive things I could have done, but it just chits me out that I couldn't make use of the time. I did spend a lot of time thinking today, but I need to look for something that has material.

I did a thorough check of all the background process running on my computer. I found so many that were safe but useless - eating away a lot of memory. I learned how intelligent softwares are and how they could use our computer for their owner's benefit. I find getting into the technical details pointless here. For me the only point is that my computer is safe and still unaffected.

Yesterday I reached home after 8 pm after attending a friend's birthday party at KFC. It was the traffic that caused me to reach home late. I was so tired I slept on the carpet in the drawing room. I was talking to my father sitting there when I felt like snoozing off. I woke up only for dinner after 10 pm and slept again after 2 am.

I know I write a little too much about myself that anybody if interested can learn me and use my blog for exploiting me. I knew this as a possibility since long but a few days back a friend made me realize that again. Perhaps I can continue as long as I keep gaining something out of this. A loss would definitely be less in measure if I compare it to what all I am gaining from writing.

Where is the context? Not in the alphabets

After college hours - where I had two tests today - along with four friends, I went to Lifestyle, then had "chaat" at Whitehouse beside that, and then to Abids where I stood outside Softyden waiting to see if there could be some table found to sit, but then finally had pizza and coke at John's. Tomorrow again I have two more tests.

I have no particular reason for myself to be at Lifestyle. I just went there to accompany a friend. But when I am out, I know I must enjoy. That's what I did; it just left me tired. It was 8 pm when I reached home. Mother had been calling me daily while I am at college, so I had already informed her. But I found a missed call from my father when I reached home. Though nobody asked me where I had bee, I just said about the Abids part - nobody was interested in knowing much. Not because they were uninterested in me, but only because they know they need not take all the information about all that I do.

There isn't anything interesting for me to write - I just started typing hoping for something to come out. I have been feeling great since the time I wrote my last post. But yesterday night I realized there was in fact something I should have thought before publishing that post. I didn't feel anything for the post, but for the guilt - it was bad. I have been thinking a lot if there is really something that could prove me bad or prove me as a person with bad character. I need to find something within me that can sweep me off my feet. That guilt couldn't answer this.

Bad character is a continuation. It never stops unless made to stop. If I write an obscene word, it wouldn't prove me bad. Some might even take that word as normal. I won't write anything bad here - I need to keep this space clean. But if there was some really bad word or an idea written in the past, I don't think anybody would end up calling me bad for that mistake I had done. I just hope so. Context does make a lot of vibration.

I saw television today for sometime - with keen interest. I was watching a series on Star One. I don't remember when it was the last time I saw something with so much interest. It was a comedy show and I could relate some of friends with it. Today's show had it's theme as valentines Day! I had my brother and father watching with me and we enjoyed. I was also told that my father watches that show daily.

Here is a challenge

Just some time back I spoke to a cousin on phone. I had been wanting to talk to him since long and today finally he called me up. He is doing his DNB in a corporate hospital here in Hyderabad; he is the best in class in the whole state of AP - he had secured the first rank in the entrance some months back. I have always looked up at him as my inspiration and also a person in whom I can put my trust blindly. He is in no way a book worm or a nerd; he is intelligent, a genius and pure wisdom. His support is what I needed.

I just updated him about me and he showed how I shouldn’t care for what others say behind me or even think. Though he told me things I already knew, his words do made a difference to me. Terming some people as dumb and foolish he made me realize that I don’t become bad just because somebody has said so. I listened to every word he said. I am waiting for next Sunday to come when InshAllah we would be meeting.

I had mixed emotions today since the time I woke up. I have been seeing my weekends go grey now days. It has the backing of all my previous experiences and I see this as a consequence of every word said and heard these 20 years. I don’t live an average life. I don’t know how others live theirs, but on my side it’s totally a fiction. Everything looks so perfect, even when it is foolishness, lies, betrayal or even dumbness. I learn so much even while hating some of these teachers.

There are only a few selected people I am willing to talk to. I am avoiding much talk with my parents. I want to keep away from my relatives but today my cousin told me that it would make them feel as if I am showing some kind of pride and avoiding them because I feel myself superior to them. He asked me to be proud of what I am and what I can do but be friendly with others. All this can’t be made lucid as long as I don’t put the context here. It would be a sin to give a form in words.

I also understand that if someday I explain something to a person and if that person understands something else or takes my words in some other way than what I was trying to tell, I would be the first one to be held responsible because it was me who couldn’t explain it well. I cannot blame that person for not understanding me. I can’t tell him that he understood only what he preferred understanding. It’s my fault if I am not clear with what I am saying. It’s my fault if I am not direct. Alhamdulillah I have always kept myself clear.

I have always tried to write things clearly in my blogs. Though I never used any names, I was more or less direct. Even when there were faint ideas, they had some backing of some previous knowledge any person knowing me is expected to be aware of. I don’t know how many people know me in my college but in now way can anybody tell me that I appear like a person of bad character. No rational person can ever point a finger to something I did or am doing telling that it is bad for the society or is against some ethics.

My cousin told me that people only know how to talk about others and they don’t understand what it means to talk the truth. He told me I never did anything that was unIslamic and that even if somebody questions me, I must ignore that person. Here again it is the context that makes the difference.

I am keeping my mouth shut only because I don’t want to comment on others. If I start that, I know how reason and Islam can prove them wrong and how much it can hurt their character. I still support them. There is an idea that I term as exception making and it is still alive. If I kill that, it would be time for chaos. My words might look big and absurd. I know how I can be called ridiculous. I know how I can be called immature. I have done that already with myself and I am prepared to fight.

I hardly have 10 more months in Hyderabad. Whether it is an MBA or Infosys, I will be out of this place. I am looking ahead for that. I won’t care of how much damage I do before leaving. All I will care is that I follow my religion well and don’t end up causing pain to people who matter to me. I am starting to draw lines and prepare a list of who is going to matter to me and who must be taken for granted. I am not afraid of this list. It just hurts me to do it. But it’s an emotional baggage and I must get rid of it. I pray that Allah gives me more wisdom and makes me do the right things.

So having said all this I openly challenge any person interested in showing hell to me to prove that I am not a good person and that I have a bad character. I openly warn everybody against any illicit or unpleasant action towards me. I don’t say that I can do big things. I warn reminding that Allah is looking and I still don’t find any of my prayers not being accepted. I have always tried to measure my words and actions with what I find as lawful and wise. I don’t like people who talk and shout with no knowledge of themselves.

I like the way sometimes I can show my anger and frustration on my blogs. I love the way it feels to exhilarate power that comes out of pride and anger. I love myself more than anybody else. I will never cause any harm to anybody. I only have faith in Allah.

Déjà vu

I wanted not to write today but I wanted somebody to listen to me and my blog is the only thing that does that silently without showing contempt. I only wish it even had shoulders. Though I usually find more than 10 unique visitors daily, I seldom fail to read posts myself. And whenever I do, I end up wondering if I am the very person who has written it. Then thank Allah that I am the same person. If I am asked to rate my anger on a scale of 0 to 10, I would put myself on 9. For reason.

In the morning I went to a friend's house for the first time. We were three there. We had talks on the interviews and how to take care of them in the least negative way. Our necessity to assemble there was to help ourselves understand interviews better. I was there for almost two hours.

I had what I can call as "normal" time at my grandmother's house after that but my aunt who is leaving for Mecca tomorrow said that I was very quiet. Sometime back I was recollecting the times I spoke an I understood that everybody sees me quiet only because they expect me to be that way. I know I am being normal enough for any person to take me as alright. I really don't have to contemplate on that.

There are some star marked e-mails I have to reply. Two of them are from my cousins from Mecca and Houston and one from as aunt from Houston again. I don't know why I am procrastinating the work but every time I look at my mailbox, something troubles me. But whenever I find people having tens of unread messages in their inboxes, I feel glad I don't keep such things with me. I have subscribed only to the news letters I read and I discard whatever I don't need immediately after reading.

Today I got the application for the entrance conducted by ICFAI. Though I am not keen in taking up MBA at any of their colleges, I thought having a back-up would help. The test's name is IBSAT. The only ICFAI center worth being studied at is the one in Hyderabad. If I am asked to rate my controlling of anger on a scale of 0 to 10, I would put myself on 7. With reason. Those two units need to be worked on rather than trying to avoid anger.