About Me

!nversed Poignancy!

...I am an eclectic amalgamation of many seemingly paradoxical things. This can be exemplified in both my seemingly endless persistance on many topics and arguments, as well as my careful cautiousness on other topics and arguments. This is largely due to how astute I am of the topic: more knowledge, more persistant; less knowledge, obviously more cautious. I also have times of obsessive compulsions regarding certain things (mostly just my thoughts, however)...

Life and Death

!nversed Poignancy!


An assembly

Possibly impossible

Perfectly interchangeable..


That lives most upright

Beyond the unspoken

Neither a squiggle nor a quibble..

She and Me

!nversed Poignancy!


A daffodil

Tyrannizer of me

Breaking the colors of dusk!..


The rising sun

Infringed with violations

The impurity in the salt..

Love and Poetry!

!nversed Poignancy!


A puerile desire

Buried in the heart

Never leaves..


Sentimentally melodramatic

Cursively recursive

My thoughts idiotic!

Something is predictable to the degree that it can be known in advance. Making a prediction involves using information with various kinds and degrees of uncertainties, to either deductively or inductively draw conclusions having various kinds and degrees of uncertainties.

So,in computing predictability and time-constrained actions, the fundamental predictions are about sequence timeliness optimality. The information needed for sequence optimality timeliness predictions includes:

bullet the actions’ properties, resource requirements, and dependencies;
bullet various aspects of the system's structure and behavior;
bullet the characteristics of the system’s execution environment;
bullet predictability of timeliness optimality of lower level operations, such as service latencies.

The conclusions are used for resource management to achieve the desired timeliness and timeliness predictions.


A swish of the milieu's beyond
Raining down on the morning breeze
Singing of larks flying
To the symphonies of the rustling leaves..

Million a scents of the blooming flowers
Warmth of that caressing air
Topping down chilled;
A tableau of brilliance,with life's love flying filled..

The green lanes turned pale
The bluey waters stretched its hands over stale..
Strings of symphony chorded more
All the million reverberations now turned- a silent sore..

Was it the silence beyond the sounds of vacuum?
Was it the silence of waves rushing to the shore?
Was it the silence of the swaying grass playing with the wind?
Was it the silence that the sun makes as it sets beyond the ocean floor?


It was the silence of a crying tree
The sound of a melancholic song in the dark
A silence beyond the mourns of death
A silence over the counts of stars and earth..

A swish over a tree's demise..

-!nversed Poignancy!
Questioning my questions, am I?
Ouch! I am lost as the Exclamations Fly
Paused I lay,as the comma's ply
It makes me quote "Punctuations u cant Buy"..

*my archieves of Venkat's thread again..:)*
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Who's the Visible Goddess?
Lovely,comforting,gentle and ravishing
Bows to thee "celestial Luminary"- You are outstanding.

*A very happy Womens Day.*
Over and above the Modem's head..
Down the lane of BSNL we tread;

Alas is the shout of million a hue;
Oh my god- XP's out and I have no clue..:))

*Musing's von Bee-Village..hehe..*
Me myself I
Clear concise concrete
Patient progressive peaceful
Thoughtful thankful tolerant
Friendly fortunate forthcoming
Hardworking helpful handy
Stalwart strong sure
Joyful jovial joking
Me myself I

Depicting 5 fingers.:)
Sorry for the "horrible doodle"..
But that's what I intended to..:(
The sensors of your physical body pick up vibrations of physical objects. You simultaneously inhabit a mental and psychic body while in a physical body. Vibrations picked up by the physical sensors impress upon the mental and psychic bodies. Impressions from psychic and mental bodies do create vibrational and chemical changes in the physical body. Thus I would say that when a person “sees” a ghost or an orb it is in reality a vibration picked up by the psychic or mental bodies that has impressed itself on the physical body thus creating the experience of seeing it while in reality the physical sensors are not really picking it up at all.
When the bright sun rises she is already
awake shaking from the chill of sweat
drowning her clothes. Dark circles
cage her bloodshot eyes as hollow laughter
echoes from a tormented mind. Tears run by,
she rocks back and forth to shake off the nightmares.
Every night she falls into the monsters hands.

Dark gray clouds rolled by as the chill
Of the wind brought shivers down my spine.
Trapped, the stench of the rotting people infiltrated my nose,
Cars whizzed by as poison hit the air,
Enclosed by gray buildings of brick and stone.

Stopped dead in my tracks something striked my eyes;
A rose, such a beautiful rose of red like the blood
Pumping from my heart throughout the cold.
Amidst of all the struggle it managed to grow,
Grow between all the brick and stone.

Oh, I thought, I thought my heart would break
As the rose’s red extended to my gray cheeks, my gray lips.
Reaching my hand out, I longed to touch it,
Feel its warmth wrap around my freezing body,
But my fingers were pricked by its thorns
Between all the brick and stone.

The blood, the blood rushed out, and a drop
Caressed its petals as tears swelled in my eyes.
Black the blood turned leaving the beautiful red rose
Black, shriveled, dead; and I, alone
Between all the brick and stone.

As I sit
Leaning my back against
Your hollowed trunk
Wishing you
Would now
Lean against me,
That I could take the weight,
Any weight,
Let alone yours.


Scribbled by Bharath C On May 09, 2008 0 Thoughts have been Sprinkled!, Your Take?
"It's at night, when perhaps we should be dreaming, that the mind is most clear, that we are most able to hold all our life in the palm of our skull. I don't know if anyone has ever pointed out that great attraction of insomnia before, but it is so; the night seems to release a little more of our vast backward inheritance of instincts and feelings; as with the dawn, a little honey is allowed to ooze between the lips of the sandwich, a little of the stuff of dreams to drip into the waking mind. I wish I believed, as J. B. Priestley did, that consciousness continues after disembodiment or death, not forever, but for a long while. Three score years and ten is such a stingy ration of time, when there is so much time around. Perhaps that's why some of us are insomniacs; night is so precious that it would be pusillanimous to sleep all through it! A "bad night" is not always a bad thing."

"They grope before them like blind people and find each other as they would a door. Almost like children that dread the night, they press close into each other. And yet they are not afraid. There is nothing that might be against them: no yesterday, no tomorrow; for time is shattered. And they flower from its ruins...

"They will give each other a hundred new names and take them all off again."


Page One..

Scribbled by Bharath C On May 09, 2008 0 Thoughts have been Sprinkled!, Your Take?
In this moment
along the beheaded
path of time

so begins
the book
of your life

whose words you
will conjure

asking permission,


ever learning the rules.

You will make them up
while turning
these coiled,
ruined pages

and transcribe into them
the infinite whiteness
of the desperate night,

and this morning's

that tiptoes
between the
of you.

*A Night Book's Levari*

One of my favorites..:))
From across the blue back drop
Myriad crystals I could see.
A sea of hazels-It was
Together winging towards the Lush..
Plop!- here
A Plop! -there
Icy bubbles spouting-the liquid fire
Cold stars weltering down.
The zephyrs cuddling the lush green chartreuse
That are-
Laying mum..
..Keeping its hands cupped..
For the beads to glob..
Bystanding along this-

"Heavenly jiffy of Eden"
Gaping-I lay;
Reveling ....
Amidst this tableau of brilliance
Mid-Summer's dream...

-!nversed Poignancy!

Another Mediocre Doodle..:)
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