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Category Archives: Made in INDIA

Made in India, by an Indian, for every Citizen of the World!

Some Heavy stuff, after a looong time:

Its the Blood that clogs my veins,
And the Air that chokes my breath,
And my legs become so numb,
As I run away…

No cuts, no wounds, no tear,
And a pain beyond to bear,
And my face’s swollen crumb,
As I run away…

It’s no stupid joke, no mystery,
I feel anymore, I don’t know me,
The wind is mauling, my ear drums screaming…
What the Fish is this bloody feeling?


Was going through Facebook and found this Community on “Mahi Way”. There is this interesting question that is being answered by over a hundred people. Impressive isn’t it?
With all the pretty ones disguising as delicious delicacies, I was sure tempted to post this. LOL!

And as the Disclaimer of Polished Crap goes “If YOU taking it OFFENSIVE then its YOUR FAULT. Cos all I write is Polished CRAP!” 😀


So should I be saying:
I like starting with deserts so I think I will have a Madhuri Bhanushali and a Safa A. Khaliq with Aarti Sharma. Then I’ll take a Amrita Jagtap with Vidula Kashyap sprinkled with Sifat Alam and Shruti Angirasa chips.

For the main course I shall have Sristi Kejriwal, Nirali Vyas with Farahnaz Reza and and Sabreen Khan Rao.

Then to finish it all, I will have a Anwen Hilary Hilz Vidhee Chamaria with a Preeti Kwatra as the dressing!


As you all know I get my inspirations for my poems from things I read, see, hear or do. And today I was reading, and wondered. This is my response opinion:

Deluding yet Demystifying,
Dreadful yet Timid,
The feeling of the mind, BEHOLD
In emotions is lipid.

Once thought this sounded toothsome,
And now its burning within,
Why do I feel like a sack of smileys?
Am I not made of Flesh n Skin?

RT @adropofwisdom

Thanks to the Media industry for showering Twestival India with a whole lot of love and attention this time. For posterity’s sake, let me pull it all together in one place here. Most of these are pre-event features except for Times of India. There is still a lot of scope for detailed analysis of the Twestival scene at India – if anyone is interested, let me know.

We have also been covered by TV, primarily by the two channels TV9 and CNN IBN Network 18. We did speak with NDTV but I don’t think they covered any of the events live when they happened in the six cities between 10-13 Sep. We’ve recorded the TV9 telecast – will try to get @dhempe to put that on YouTube.

Meanwhile, enjoy the attention our friends have given us here:

“This time, Twestival will be going local”
DNA Bangalore – 25 August 2009
“Tweeting for a cause”
LiveMint – 26 August 2009
“Tweet Dreams”
TimeOut Bengaluru – 04 Sep 2009
“Twestival comes to Mumbai”
Hindustan Times Mumbai – 4 Sep 2009
“Charity 2.0”
Outlook Money – 09 Sep 2009
“Working for a cause the micro way”
Times of India Chennai – 09 Sep 2009
“Local ‘twestival’ to be held at Bandra”
DNA Mumbai – 09 Sep 2009
“An offline Twitter affair, for a cause”
Times of India Bangalore – 10 Sep 2009
“Have fun at Twestival, but do volunteer”
DNA Bangalore – 11 Sep 2009
“Tweeting for a social cause”
The New Indian Express Chennai – 11 Sep 2009
“Party for a cause”
The New Indian Express Bangalore – 12 Sep 2009
“Twestival Time”
Indian Express – 12 Sep 2009
“Partying for a cause”
The Hindu – 12 Sep 2009
“Bangalore Twitter users raise money for charity”
Times of India Bangalore – 13 Sep 2009

Others/syndicated news:
“Twestival Time”
Yahoo India News – 12 Sep 2009
“Twestival: ‘Party for a Cause’ this Saturday”
MSN India – 10 Sep 2009
“TATA DOCOMO Sponsors Mumbai’s Twitter Festival”
India PR Wire – 10 Sep 2009
“Bangalore’s ‘Twitters’ to help underprivileged children”
Indian eNews – 11 Sep 2009
“Twestival (Twitter festival) Bangalore offers help to underprivileged children”
Weeks Update – 11 Sep 2009
“Bangalore’s ‘Twitters’ to help less privileged kids”
Silicon India – 11 Sep 2009
“Twestival and Dream: A Dream arrange cultural show!”
Duniya Live Bangalore – 12 Sep 2009
“Bangalore’s IT hub to use ‘Twitters’ to help underprivileged kids” – 12 Sep 2009
“IT Hub Bangalore organizes Tweet Party for charity”
UB News – 13 Sep 2009
“Bangalore Twitters rally to help needy children” – 11 Sep 2009

“Tweeting for a good cause”
CNN IBN – 15 Sep 2009

I will be keeping this post updated as and when some news gets published on Twestival India. But if you come across any other feature or coverage that I’ve missed, do let me know and I will get this updated.

Posted via email from shyams’s posterous

“We are all Indians”, we say it proud,
Yet some people in the crowd,
Don’t know what it means to us,
When we see a flag, lay in dust.

There are a few who pretend to care,
While our Anthem plays, they sit in their chair,
All we need to understand is this,
We are blessed to feel the respect so bliss.

Its not a piece of land,
Its the soil where we stand.
It was struggle and bloodshed,
That brought us our Hindustan.

They fought the war for our lives today,
And look at us, we dont even care.
As long as we do value our Nation,
We shall stand tall in other’s perception.

Yes our Tiranga is our Identity,
We Indians, should be, proud to be,
Jana Gana Mana, brought us together,
It gave us unity, it earned us honor.

So, Salute your Flag,
Stand up for your Anthem,
Don’t take them for Granted,
Respect your Nation. Our Nation.

Jai Hind.

Sometimes he’s angry, sometimes he is Great,
Today its food, Tomorrow I wait,
I jumped and played, everyday before,
Today I drag my hind, my fore,
He pets me lots, I won’t complain,
Yet at times, he mets lot of pain.
He might love me, yet I am scared,
I don’t know when I am really cared.

I beat him black, I beat him blue,
I dont know why, I have no clue,
I feel so bad, when I think of it,
My anger took over my wit.
Why do I get wild, where hides my wrath,
Why does it make me take this path?
I dont like the feeling, after doing the damage,
Can’t I control my ire? Can’t I stop this ravage?
That poor speechless creature, gets to bear my brute,
And he never complains, however rude.
I pity the fella, sometimes, oh man!
I owe him an apology, the hundredth bloody time.
And I cry…

Flutter, Whish,
Dainty Fish,
Gorgeous Fins,
No Kids, No Kins,
Just Me and He,
A bond to see.

He cuts the flow,
And swims to show,
Flaunting Fins,
Majestic Spins,
His eyes Bulge out,
And lips go spout,
He likes the way,
I admire him sway.

And then one day,
Still he lay,
Sleeping soundless,
Drove me mindless,
I touched and felt,
His heartbeat melt,
His eyes he shut,
Wounded and cut.

Empty walls, fallen grub,
Motionless Water, a tearful shrub,
Few stones weeping, a gloomy me,
Is all that Joe, left behind with me.

My Trip to Mumbai taught me a few new facts about FOOD, PEOPLE and OTHER…


1. The Vada Pavs of Mumbai are just too awesome to be reproduced in Bangalore.

2. That Lassi needs to be eaten with a Spoon. Its that thick and full of cream.

3. That Curds are sold in Kilograms.

4. That Shrikand’s texture is coarse with nuts and yet so smooth it slides down the throat.

5. That the Paani Pooris (Golgappas) get their taste due to the tap water and dirty hands.

6. That we can get Schezwan and Chole Jumbo(size) Vada Pavs in Brown Bread.

7. That even Vada Pavs can be Grilled.


1. If you miss the 8:16 local train, you are late to office by 25mins. In spite of there being a local train at 8:18.

2. The return pass you take on Saturday is valid till midnight Sunday.

3. All one way local train tickets have an one hour expiry.

4. Bangalore – Mumbai – by local train 24hrs, by bus 18hrs.Within Mumbai – by bus 1hour, by train 25mins incl. changing platforms for connecting trains.

5. If you dont know whether you are in the East or West, be prepared to spend 5times more autofare.

6. Mineral Water bottles taken from outside the security check-in is suspicious, Water bought inside the airport is absolutely safe.


1. That money and affordability bonds people together and classifies them as well.

2. That saying “I cant afford that place” is like I accusing the other of fleecing money from me.

3. That asking a friend for cheaper places to eat translates into one being stingy and incompetent.

4. That “Oh! You can walk into my Cabin anytime”, actually means “go get an appointment from my secretary and its my desecration then if I even want to meet you”.


1. Sweat flows down your head and drenches your shirt if you walk a Km, as if you were under a shower.

2. That no matter how many times and how well you have taken your bath, you have to take it once you come back home.

3. That the noise of the waves however loud, sounds so soothing.

4. That to find which Movie is in which Cinemas and at what Time is a treasure hunt from one page to the other. No single list / page.

5. That Rasta Roko dharnas get police protection and can dissolve in a couple of hours. Such that no one ever knows it happened.

6. That Rasta Roko dharnas (Road-blocking Rebellious Processions) can cause the autofare to go by 4 times for the same distance.

As the wise men (like me 😉 ) say, I am living my life on the edge.. cos I am fallin’ off .. into slumber at every given opportunity. Except these last two days.
Mumbai really brings the busy man in you out and running against time. Especially when you have to rush to your meeting at 8:30am and you really don’t know the difference between Santacruz East and West. I reached in time still .. do I hear Varun’s “Really??”
Being used to Bangalore’s Kormangalas and Brigade Roads, I had a tough time losing autofares worth a couple of Redbulls and a handful of Jumbo VadaPavs and Shrikands. Trust me guys, the Lassi here are as thick as Butter. And they taste WOW!
Our Airport is much better than the one in this Film City and you have everyone from the Local train hawkeress to the hep Gujrati ‘maltova’ showing off, as if they had bigger ones than Mallika Sherawat! Relax guys… I meant EGOs 🙂

It was the first time in Fashion,
Bangalore was taken seriously,
Coping up with the Metros,
Was Bangalore certainly.

They knew it wasn’t easy,
They knew they weren’t big,
They put the show together,
It was a Dream Merchants gig.

The whos-who was present,
The big names showed their crafts,
It was an opportunity sure,
For Creative (wo)men of sorts.

There were some who went conventional,
There were some so refershing new,
The Gorgeous girls sashayed the ramp,
Dressed in impressive hues.

Babycorns and Peacocks on yards,
Mohit wowed the crowd,
The trendy magic of Ramesh Dembla,
Made our city men proud.

Bhakti’s and Kaira’s designs,
Bridged the west south gap,
Diganth, Zulfi and Jackie,
Were the stars for whom, all clapped.

At last there was the bubbly,
Samant Chauhan, oh boy!
He cast a spell that everyone loved,
A fresh new trend, ahoy!

Awaiting for the days ahead,
Are all the fashion freaks,
When Manoviraj Khosla and Rocky S,
Will show Bangalore their streaks.

Walk up, Walk down,
In Green, In Brown,
Till dusk, from dawn,
In a long, short gown.

Steps to the song,
A sweet smile long,
A whish, and a turn,
Then a stare that can burn.

Some hep, some bland,
Some none can stand,
Some drool, some pause,
At the end, all applause.

“Its just a small lil herb’, he said,
‘What harm will it do to me?”
He chewed it, while they smoked up,
“I hate to smoke” said he.

In a while before he knew of it,
He had a dizzy feeling,
His roof went high below his toe,
His world had a different meaning.

He felt as if he was seeing a show,
Whence his mates were scoring neat,
He liked the feel of his every step,
Being lighter than his feet.

And then the table turned and skewed,
Right before his eyes,
All the people around him dear,
Looked like tiny mice.

He fought the floating sense sometimes,
And shook his head to see,
He was standing with a plate in his hand,
There was no sign of the meal.

Did he eat or did he not,
Was a puzzle too big to crack,
He washed his hands off the morsels,
And fell into dreams in a snap.

Again, as the Tradition of Polished Crap goes, there is yet another parallel I am drawing, yet another flavor to savor. Just spilling some creativity on the floor! Ideas and opinions, I feel could be implemented in the marketing / advertising / design world, will look like posts. And this time, its prose.

Its not that you are cursed,
You’re not a blimey slave,
Its not your fate that turns worse,
You’re not a mere doll of clay,

You have feelings and thoughts,
Which warn you every day.
You have yourself to answer to,
You dont just breathe alive to stay,

Listen to it with caution,
Hear your conscience scream in pain,
You are no master of your own,
You Disobey. You Pay.

Not life, Not love,
Its our mind thats screwed up,
Not luck, Not chance,
Its We who give up,
Can see that bright light at the end of the tunnel,
It just that its steep and scary to go up.

Are we scared, oh! Yes,
Then why blame whatever,
Its just another opportunity,
That was devoured by our fear.


Heaven and Hell are mere illusions,
God and Devil created to scare,
The surprise that life unveils is thus,
Death is the beginning of every new dare!

What do I mean? Am I insane?
No! Its just life on another plane.
Where one believes not that he won,
Until he rolled in the river of pain.

Dard-e-Dil ki dastaan hai ye,
Bhikre kwaab ke armaan hai ye,
Aap chahe isse shayari samjhe,
Mere beete hue ehsaas hai ye.

Her eyes are Music,
Her lips are notes,
Her looks are poetry,
Her charm is wrote.

Need I dream,
When fairies are true?
Angel or Devil,
She’s Gorgeous for sure.

The mind plays a dirty game,
For it craves selfishly, for an easy name,
When you’re in love, you are talked about,
You fall out of it, and its gossip for louts,
Your idea sounds zing, they lap it up,
Expectations fail, you are screwed up,
You lose, you gain, its all the same,
For the mind only needs, its claim to fame.