This was poted to me as message by my sickle friend AMIKAR ANAND

This piece says alot,infact it shouts out the state we are


life in technicolor reminds me of a very cold dark morning on the highway coming back from baner on your trusty old yamaha, shrieking curses at the bone breaking wind and talking of how warm poha awaited us somewhere...watching the video on your laptop...saying cheers at carnival.
if technology ever progresses far enough to enable us to make photographs of the memories in our heads these would be among the first i send to Kodak...
sometimes i think there should be an upper ceiling on the fun people can have during higher studies man! its difficult to cope afterward, but then again im glad there isnt, life would never be Eastman color let alone technicolor.
this is what guys like us do, we are like memory making machines pushing ourselves towards the birth of that next special one and when life moves on, like it seems to have now, we feel inefficient and wasted.
a very old freind of mine once said in an alcoholic outburst of super sensitivity ; every drop of booze that hasnt got a memory to it is a drop of good booze wasted...saala who says drunks cant think straight? it was one of the most insightful lines i have ever heard that didn't come from a dead American
president or a morbid Greek philosopher!
im lying here awake listening to coldplay knowing how smoothly life has taken another turn and all that we do in the name of social networking is but a feeble attempt to keep a memory alive, all we have in our heads is a last photo of one another, jitu biting down on a vadapav outside dilip bhau as rajiv looks on in the backgound all forlorn, a pic of you laughing your head off from a moment afterwards...ankit covered in blankets dead asleep and kutub slumped in the bean bag looking into his laptop...khatri rushing in drenched to the bone in torrential rain and wearing my jacket giving me a reason to stay back and get drunk again...sumit bellowing hysterically trying to explain why team india is part of sachin and not the other way round as we sit in carnival, our faces in shadow but the soft light glinting off the ice as blue smoke curls into nothingness...
songs have immense emotive power, they span great distances yeas altogether.life in technicolor has begun for the umpteenth time and i know i can go on writing but tomorrow is again knocking on my door, so i leave you here friend till someday this reminiscence strikes again and i am compelled to write..  

untill then
farewell