All work and no blog make Amit a mull boy. Mulling I have been, since a long time. Why do some people seem like I have known them for ages? And why are there still some people I could never break the ice with? There is mysticism in the way we just miss each other every time. I sign in and the other signs out.

A fraction of a second—that’s all.

A number far away is forever engaged, because every time I tried, the other was trying to call mine and it was engaged too.

I climb up the stairs to get to my abode and as soon as I lock the door, I hear behind me stilettos clobbering all their way to fading nothingness.

And the time arrived. Not the time. A time.

“What’s your name?” Oh, you have asked it—haven’t you? In the stairs? No lights. 10.00 pm. As if she can see you.
“Sorry?” She waited.

Say Egjhaaktly, in true Javed Jaffstyle! No. Not that! Ask her again!
“What’s your good name?”
What prejudice! Why should it always be good? Why don’t you ask her rotten name?
“***ita”
What? Am I hearing things?
“***ita?” Maybe it’s just so many hours in front of the screen. But I am not seeing things—I am hearing them!
“Yeah, ***ita!”
Oh! It really is that!
“I am Amit!”
Give her that Twinkling molars grin.
Don’t!
No worries, she can’t see—it’s so dark.
Don’t.
Go on Mahn!
Don’t you dare!
* Flash! *
“Oh!” she fumbled as if she remembered something, “Hi!”

Customary—like the way I dropped a piece of nickel in the aluminum bowl in the morning. Bland—like a bite of daily lunch and the first bite tasting like the last. Monotonous—like the evening bubblegum that you started chewing for breakfast.

I don’t remember hearing

“Cut! Cut! Pack up! Waah Sir! What a shot! Aap Toh Chha Gaye!”,

But I did find myself typing frantically at the keyboard and Ustad’s voice making my hallucinations come true. What melody! What composition! Wonderful!

Can you guess the name above? I bet you can't do that in a million years!
And, well, can you guess who is the Ustad I am referring to? That's an easy one for music lovers.

In a moment of frenzy, I pick up my phone, thumb the keypad, and put it to the ear.
Beeeeeeep beeeeeeep beeeeeeep. Engaged—forever.

To all the SuperFolks at getting together and talking about the size of their footwear when they were behind the curtains, here's a thumbs up! Thanks for de-lurking after a long time and sharing your views about the facelift. Your feedback will ensure making metamorf one of the most loved places on the Internet.

Good that you are in the open now. It's okay, we are all the same. No need to hide your stuff and pretend to be shy. Oh C'mon!

Okay, Two things, again:

1. Free Flash Book. I am giving out free copies of my long lost Flash Book that never made it to print. I found it again. Yay!

When Flash was still in the 5th version, Flash 5 - Kick Start was born. And before it could make it to print, they rolled out MX. Then a hard disk crashed somewhere and a CD got lost. And then, after a long time the book was found dormant in a CD. Here it is. Go ahead, grab a copy today!
Actual Writeup from the download site.

2. What's in your name? What does your name mean? Go ahead and tell us what your name is and what it means. Maybe somebody could use the meaning to recall your name.

Call it 2.0, or powdering the MetaNose, or a BIG (read: some quick hacks) update... A few changes are happening at metamorf lately. Tell us what you'd like to see more of. Tell us what you have liked so far.

You can tip us with ideas that you'd like to discuss at MetaMorf.

Okay, two things in addition to the above:

1. What do you think of the editor? (This is a Johari Window implementation and will help Amit understand the real essence of metamorf.)

2. Stop lurking, start de-lurking (come out of the closet, I promise I'll not bite. See, I'll remove the dentures!) and say Hello in the comments area. Tell us a little about yourself.

We can see your shoes under the curtain. Come out fella!

All right folks! I am here, and I am podcasting.

Tell me why! — The First MetaCast
(click on that small blue play button)

Now, I don't know a reason why I am doing this. Well, in simpler terms, talking online. I never get a chance to speak to anybody offline as much. So why should I be talkin' online?

Well, to tell you the real reason, a few of my friends (yeah, some of you folks out there) wanted me to start talking online.

"Hey man! You should start podcastin'!"

They never could cook up a good reason to tell me why. They just said "Well, Just because, you should go out, and speak to the guys at metamorf."

So you tell me, why should I? Why do you want me to podcast? Yeah go on, tell me why. I am listening.

Disclaimer:

Yes, Don't tell me that I sound weird. Actually, before beginning to record my metaCast, I thought I will have a shot or two of the Supertonic Deethrovomprover (Deep Throat, Voice Improver) that's endorsed by Britney's pears (I am bad at names, I have a feeling it's Britney Spears—I dunno!).

Actually, this was one called Deethrovomprover powerSqueeze (and I didn't see), and I took two spoonfulls instead of two drops. My vocal chords clanged and my eyes rolled for quite a while.

My doc says, it'll be all right in some time, but my voice may modulate without reason at times. The rolling eyes also stopped in the morning, but in the wrong directions. I need to get them fixed. So much for podcastin'!

Lesson learnt: No Pears powerSqueeze can do any good.

I recall a time when I was at a Fashion Design School (I'd better be killed for not naming it, than face a names-dropping retribution) campus. Making it a point to indulge in sartorial excellence, I decked in my best Armani and Gucci lookalikes, including the glitzy mother-of-pearl cufflinks. When I was there at the campus, I discovered that I stood out of the crowd. Before you start imagining why, I should admit that I was actually the odd one out.

I was the only one in a formal attire there, like a scarecrow in a huge field of naked harvest. They were all in frayed denim, show-all-those-protrusions teeny-weeny itsy-bitsy nothingness, and tatters that I couldn't comprehend.

Thinking about it again, I felt I did leave an impression on people. Maybe more than what would have been possible if everybody turned up in the all-slick-eat-that-brick look. Well, heads did turn.

Now, look at what I have found today. History will repeat(Oh, yes, I am looking forward to it!)

In the years to come, I will make heads turn again (you got it wrong again!).
_____________

2057 A.D.: At a party, I walk in and make heads turn. Some stop, some drop their jaws, some wince, some watch in awe. A perfect unadulterated(in the literary sense) human!
_____________

You go on and get those subdermally implanted protrusions (as if what you already had wasn't enough?). I will wait.