The Square Root of 3

I’m sure that I will always be
A lonely number like root three

The three is all that’s good and right,
Why must my three keep out of sight
Beneath the vicious square root sign,
I wish instead I were a nine

For nine could thwart this evil trick,
with just some quick arithmetic

I know I’ll never see the sun, as 1.7321
Such is my reality, a sad irrationality

When hark! What is this I see,
Another square root of a three

As quietly co-waltzing by,
Together now we multiply
To form a number we prefer,
Rejoicing as an integer

We break free from our mortal bonds
With the wave of magic wands

Our square root signs become unglued
Your love for me has been renewed

An excellent Urdu / Raikhta master piece by Amir Khurso in my urdu blog.

I just finished seeing Don Box and Chris Anderson's MSDN TV Special Holiday Episode III - Connecting People, Programs and Devices Using WinFX which gave the term CGI Joe completely new meanings. Their Holiday song which was sung with notes produced by XBOX Controller sending SOAP Messages to piano is as follows.

code they told me
pa-rum-pu-pum-pum

a new platform to use
pa-rum-pu-pum-pum

the finest apps we'll bring
pa-rum-pu-pum-pum rum-pu-pum-pum rum-pu-pum-pum

simple code                    (code they told me)
can it be                          (pa-rum-pu-pum-pum)
(the) xaml life                  (a new platform to use)
is all I see                        (pa-rum-pu-pum-pum)

see the day of glory        (the finest apps we'll bring, pa-rum-pu-pum-pum)
see the day when            (code they told me) 
programs connect via soap          
via x-m-l                        (pa-rum-pu-pum-pum rum-pu-pum-pum)

simple code                   (a new platform to use, pa rum pum pum pum)
--- can it be                   (when we code)

every app must be made aware
every app must be made to care
'bout the network and service bus
to bring the programs to us

I pray my wish               (code they told me)
will come true                (pa-rum-pu-pum-pum)
for my code                   (a new platform to use)
and your code too         (pa-rum-pu-pum-pum)

see the day of glory        (the finest apps we'll bring, pa-rum-pu-pum-pum)
see the day when            (code they told me) 
programs connect via soap          
via x-m-l                        (pa-rum-pu-pum-pum rum-pu-pum-pum)

simple code                   (a new platform to use, pa rum pum pum pum)
--- can it be                   (when we code)

--- can it be

Here at Next Estate, we have very talented folks; Likes of Rob Walling, Calvin Park et al. However, technology is not their only talent.  Following is the series of limericks came into being when some bagels were brought...classical pieces of IT-Poetry.  

Since the move we are not able
We thought we would set the table
There are bagels galore
Cream cheese and much more
And for Joon's 1 year we are now stable  

Since we are doing limericks this time
They say that each should be five lines
From all we expect
Each to do their best
And everybody to add a new line
-Dean Nedelman  

These bagels are so fine
And just in the Nick of time
Though I fought my poor will
I’ve taken my fill
Working here I can not whine.
-Nick DeNicholas

Dr. Atkins said carbs take their toll
So I need to exercise self control
I’d sure like to try it
But, on that crazy diet
Can I eat half or just eat the hole?
-Greg Cannon

Thanks for going out of your way
To create a great start of day
For it’s acts like this
That make others wish
They were a part of a team like this!

© 2005 Gus Lira. All rights reserved. Patent Pending

My eyes have grown quite weary.
My heart, a little heavy.
For each week, without fail
Arrives an email
With another *#?+#* poem.
--------------------------
Peter Kerr
Sent from my BlackBerry Wireless Handheld

When work becomes a dull routine,
You surprise us with treats and cuisine
For your great attitude,
Please accept our gratitude;
From DEV: Thank you, Nick. Thank you, Dean.
-Greg Cannon

I bring a yogurt to work each day to avoid starvation
But today I arrive and see “bagels in the usual location”
With all this food I begin to think
I guess I’m going to need some drink
Another water bottle joins the earthquake rations
-Joanne Siegel

• Door ke dhol sohanye baj ryeeIn دور كے ڈھول سہانے بج رہيں
  
• Neye boolo to suntee nheiN نہيں بولو تو سنتے نہيں

Rashid Kamran started a decent urdu blog website and has posted some very interesting articles in his blog. Imatator that I am, also signed up for one and got my urdu ramblings blog up and running, however not very sure what I'll be posting in it.

And last but not least, when I mentioned the current wave of events, Ismail Siddiqi also published his urdu blog.

I'm now typing up an Ahmed Faraz's poem to post...

ميرے غنيم نے مجھ كو پيام بھيجا ہے
كہ حلقہ زن ہيں ميرے گرد عسكري اسكے
.....

ميرا قلم تو امانت  ہے ميرے لوگوں كي
اسي ليے تو جو لكھا تپا كہ جان سے لكھا
تمام عمر كي ايذا نصيبيوں كي قسم
ميرے قلم كا سفر رايگاں نہ جايگا

 

We had an interesting IT poetry competition today…following is the output in chronological order; rights are reserved for the respective self proclaimed poets J

 

It all started when Dean, Director of IT Infrastructure said

 

Sit right back and I'll tell the tale

The tale of a bags of bagels

That started from our favorite store

And are now on the usual tables

 

And Joanne, our senior developer wrote back

 

There once was a programmer named Joanne

Who wrote a program to generate poetry

The poems were lame

The words did not rhyme

And so she had to retry

 

While Nick, Director IT-Development couldn't resist 

 

Dean is so very mean.

He’s started this crazy thread.

Now a competition has started,

I open new emails with dread,

And read verse that makes me scream!

 

And then Jeremy the architect shared the happiness

 

Bagels…

The morning started with dread

Bagels were brought with glee

The office was no longer dead

And now were all happy

 

Concluded by Greg the super developer with the code…

 

When speaking in rhythm and rhyme

The mental effect is sublime

My life would be sweeter

If my verbal meter

Could be Iambic all the time

 

But alas I am paid to write code

I can’t sit here writing my ode

But soon I’ll repose

And finish my prose

When I’m back in my humble abode

 

Could it be that my two lives could blend?

If (Nick not isLooking) then End

Else

dim wits as double

me.now = trouble

 

While (paycheck.needing)

Work()

wend

zulmat ko zia , sarsar ko saba banday ko khuda kya likhna
deewar ko dar, pathar ko gohar, jugnoo ko diya kya likhna
ek hashr bapa hay ghar ghar main, dam ghutaa hay gunbad-e-bay dar main
ek shakhs kay haathoN muddat say, ruswa hay watan dunya bhar maiN
ey deeda waro is zillat ko qismat ka likha kya likhna

Taqdeer ke qazi ka yeh fatwa hai azal se
jurm-e-Zaifi ki saza marg-e-mafajaat

[Humor]
meray karawaN main shamil koi kam nazar nahee hay
kay khushi say mar na jatay agar aitbaar hota

meray karawaN main shamil koi kam nazar nahee hay
jo na mit sakay watan par , mera ham safar nahee hay
dar-e-ghair par hamesha , thumhaiN sajda raiz dekha
aisa koi dagh-e-sajda meray naam par nahee hay

meray haath main qalam hay , meray zehan main ujala
mujhay kya daba sakay ga, koi zulmatoN ka pala
mujhay fikre amn-e-aalam , tujhay apnee zaat ka gham
main tulu horaha hooN  , too ghuroob honay wala

kehtay hay kay gosht na khata tha muarree
phal phool par karta tha apnee guzar auqat
ek dost nay bhoona hua teetar usay bheja
shayed is tadbeer say us shatir ko ho maat
afsos sad afsos shaheeN na bana na too
Taqdeer ke qazi ka yeh fatwa hai azal se
jurm-e-Zaifi ki saza marg-e-mafajaat

aansooN say tumhain alwidain kaheeN
razm gahaoN nay jab bhee pukara tumhaiN
tum zafar mand to khair kya lot-tay
haar nay bhee na jee say utara tumhain
tum nay jaaN kay iwaz aabroo baich dee
phir bhee ham nay kya hay gawara tumhain
seena chakan-e-mashriq bhee apnay hee thay
jin ka khooN mooN pay malnay kay tum aaey they
in kee taqdeer to kya badaltay magar
in kee naslain badalnay ko tum aaey thay
yaad hoN kay tumhain wo ayyam bhee
tum aseeree say jab lot kar aaey thay
ham dareeda jigar rastoN main khaRay
apnay dil apnee aNkhoN main bhar laey thay
kya khabar thee kay tum say shakista ana
apnay zakhmoN kay pas chatney aaeN gay
jin kay jabroN ka apnoN ka khooN lag gaya
zulm kee sab hadaiN patnay aaeN gay
aur marg-e-bangal kay baad bolan main
shehrioN kay galay katnay aaing gay
jaisay bartanwee raaj main gorakhay
baaghioN pay sitam aam un kay bhee thay
jaisay saffaak goray vietnam maiN
haq parastoN pay ilzam un kay bhee thay
aaj tum main aur un main faraq to nahee
raifalaiN , wardiaN , naam un kay bhee thay
aaj tum nay sarhad say mehran tak
yeh maqtal sajaey hain kyooN ghazioN
kis shehehnshah-e-aali ka farman hay
kis kay aagay ho tum sar nigooN ghazio
tum nay dekhay haiN jamhoor kay qaflay
jin kay hathoN main parcham baghawat kay hain
papRioN par jamee papRiaN khoon kee
keh rahee haiN yeh manzar qyamat kay hain
kal tumharay liye pyar seenoN maiN tha
ab jo sholay uthay haiN wo nafrat kay haiN
ab to shair pay bhee qarz mattee ka hay
ab qalam maiN lahoo hay siyahee nahee
khol utra tumhara to zahir hua
PAISHA WAR QATILO, TUM SIPAHEE NAHEE
ab sab hee bay zameeroN kay sar chahiye
ab faqat qissa e taj e shahi nahee

-Ahmed Faraz

How happy is the blameless vessel's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each prayer accepted, and each wish resigned.

-Alexander Pope

On the day when death will knock at thy door,
what wilt thou offer to him?
Oh, I will set before my guest the full vessel of my life;
I will never let him go with empty hands.
All the sweet vintage of all my autumn days and summer nights,
all the earnings and gleanings of my busy life,
will I place before him at the close of my days
when death will knock at my door.

Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941) , from Gitanjali, published 1913

La tierra giró para acercarnos, giró sobre sí misma y en nosotros, hasta juntarnos por fin en este sueño, como fue escrito en el Simposio. Pasaron noches, nieves y solsticios; pasó el tiempo en minutos y milenios. Una carreta que iba para Nínive llegó a Nebraska. Un gallo cantó lejos del mundo, en la previda a menos mil de nuestros padres. La tierra giró musicalmente llevándonos a bordo; no cesó de girar un solo instante, como si tanto amor, tanto milagro sólo fuera un adagio hace mucho ya escrito entre las partituras del Simposio.

The earth turned to bring us closer, it spun on itself and within us, and finally joined us together in this dream as written in the Symposium. Nights passed by, snowfalls and solstices; time passed in minutes and millennia. An ox cart that was on its way to Nineveh arrived in Nebraska. A rooster was singing some distance from the world, in one of the thousand pre-lives of our fathers. The earth was spinning with its music carrying us on board; it didn't stop turning a single moment as if so much love, so much that's miraculous was only an adagio written long ago in the Symposium's score.

By Venezuela’s leading poet Eugenio Montejo (Attributed in 21 Grams)

Yesterday at DevDays2004, I read this quote on an adidas billboard in front of LA convention center. It's really inspiring;

 

Impossible is just a big word thrown around by small men who find it easier to live in the world they've been given than to explore the power they have to change it.

Impossible is not a fact. It's an opinion.
Impossible is not a declaration. It's a dare.
Impossible is potential.
Impossible is temporary.
Impossible is nothing. 

I May, I Might, I Must

If you will tell me why the fen
appears impassable, I then
will tell you why I think that I
can get across it if I try.

Marianne Moore