Organize And Execute

Optimism means expecting the best, but confidence means knowing how you will handle the worst. Never make a move if you are merely optimistic.

A couple of days back I saw the news telling about some officer at HP's office being prosecuted for rape and murder of a female employee committed in his office. The charges on him say that he is responsible for the crime even when he has not committed it just because it was inside his office and he is in charge of that place. Even the Supreme court of India is supporting those claims. I agree to what their idea is. And I hope they will apply the same logic on a bigger scale. The watchman of that office must also be taken into account, the police inspector of that locality too should not be left, the Chief Minister of that state should also be held responsible, and the Prime Minister of the country too. When a CEO is responsible for a crime committed in his company, the Prime Minister of India is responsible for all the crime committed in his country. And of course, this also gives a clear signal to these MNCs that they will have problems in India if they hire female employees. And they talk of gender equality!

I looked at our newly fixed curtains and felt something missing. They are maroon in color, with golden and shiny flower like designs on them, properly drawn into the rods and hung on the brown metal holders. The cloth is of very good quality bought from a famous shop in the city. But even then, there looked a very big thing missing making the drapery incomplete. I was also hoping to see this new attraction as grand. But it didn't appear so. Pelmets are missing.

At least five days in a week I get to spend around 30 minutes in front of the television while having dinner with my parents. There is usually one of two specific programs we watch. The first is on Peace TV - talks by Dr. Zakir Naik, Dr. Israr Ahmed or Ahmed Deedat. Sometimes it so happens that a particular talk is repeated on the channel and my father tunes into Star One. I have no track of what time it usually is when this show is aired but it has turned out to be the best comedy series in Hindi I have seen. 'Sarabhai Vs Sarabhai' is too famous to be given an introduction. Apart from some news that flies into the living room from the television in drawing room, this show is the only entertainment I see on television. Of course there are no replacements to the talks by the three great men I have mentioned.

Now it can sound ironic that I write about a religious and an unIslamic show in the same paragraph. I find no reason to feel ashamed. Those are the only things I watch on the television and I am glad I never get carried away by any other idiotic shows. Rarely do I hear the noises of those soaps that have already corrupted millions of minds over the world. And still, if there is anybody disliking the mentioning of the two things in the same paragraph, I would request them to delete all the music and videos of entertainment from their computers' hard-drives for I am sure they must also be having Islamic content on the same disks, on the same platters and who knows, on the same blocks of data on the drive.

Yesterday evening when I was at my grandmother's house I heard my cousins and my brother playing with pillows hitting each other. They were shouting and jumping on the bed. My mother scolded my brother and made him sit with her. I scolded him too for making a fuss there. Sometime later I went to the other room and started that game again. There were six cushions pulled out from the sofa set and we were throwing them in every way possible on our faces. My targets were my brother and a five year cousin. We shouted, yelled, screamed and continued it till my father arrived. I could have kept the game going, but my cousins left the room.

In my prayers there are times when I feel that the words aren't coming from my heart. I see this happening when I miss a few prayers in succession. I do feel guilty and also find it a bit difficult to get back into the rhythm again. It takes time. And there are also times when even while being completely dedicated to my prayers, I find it difficult to give everything to some of the the duas I make. I see that I don't seem to mean what I am asking from Allah. It's then that I ask Him to make me mean these duas. I pray that the requests I am making are truly from my heart because I know that I am supposed to ask for those things. It is just like knowing what is right and asking Allah to make me do it.

Over these years I have come across people who don't always carry their words with them. I have also seen myself who could not always do it. It irritates me. These people irritate me. It's all about having clear priorities, putting them on paper, correcting them time to time and sticking to them always. I don't write things on paper; I write them on my computer. I try to find the difference between important and urgent. I try to weigh the options, also consider if letting a problem occur can be acceptable, see if the solution costs more than the loss the problem can cause, try to imagine what my elders would have done in that event, recollect if there are any experiences I have had or seen others having, and that is when I go ahead with taking action. But when somebody speaks without thinking all this, without trying to find out why I do so and so things, it makes me the most angry who cannot be tackled.

I don't blindly accept what others tell. I am learning to say a 'no' without showing the slightest signs of discourtesy. I cannot bear to stand with those who agree with what all they are told. I am seeing many such people around these days. They listen to their friends, elders or just about anybody and take it as an ultimatum. Why can't they think? Why can't they use their so many years of education? Why can't they put their intellect behind their actions? I consider every human being equally intelligent. Some just don't understand that. They underestimate themselves. I have done it several times on myself. I feel guilty every time I do it.

I find the last few minutes of my day as the most analytical when I start preparing to go to bed. This is when I analyze the day I have spent. I run through all the words I have spoken and heard. I do forget a lot but I also remember many things. I learn. I sulk. But when I wake up to the next sun, I know I am better than what I was yesterday. And when I step out of my house, I keep in mind that there are people out there more intelligent than me, who have seen more life than me and I need to meet them, learn from them and also thank them if possible. I know I am weak and only Allah can strengthen me.

We all every time strongly believe that we are right in what we say and do. It's perfectly fine that way. But what is necessary is that we understand that we can be wrong. The small amount of wisdom which we use will help us be right at least the next time we speak. We make mistakes, the pathos is when we continue it. It's worst when we don't realize it. We are guided by our desire to seek importance and attention. Even that is perfectly fine. But it should be done in more pure ways. Not by just talking. Messages are better conveyed in silence, smiles and tears. More than 80% of effective communication is through body language. But of course, when with friends, it's better to let all that intense so called wisdom go.

And we are so often influenced by our moods. We also have the famous bad moods, lows and highs and frustrations. I used to write them in words and pretend to relieve myself. I know of many who do it. It supposedly should be considered as wise and mature but I know that as long as we have our priorities right and goals fixed, nothing on earth can perturb us so easily. I wonder how many really understand it when they are happy, sad, frustrated, angry or sullen.

Not Again!

When a man sees his end he wants to know there has been some purpose to his life.
- Marcus Aurelius, Gladiator

I am sure the postman of my locality is curious to know why I receive so much mail and why he never gets to see me. I have a thick bunch of letters sent to me by business schools all over India asking me to attend their next phases of selection processes or at least apply to their colleges telling me that I am eligible. I haven't read even one brochure completely till now and I don't intend to. I have also learnt how to say a 'no' on the phone. I still get irritated when I receive calls from people I dont know.

I received my TOEFL and GRE score reports together a couple of days back. It was a pleasant surprise to see that ETS took only 16 days to help me receive my GRE report. But the content was disheartening. It told me that I deserved only 3.0 out of 6.0 in the analytical writing section. After writing GRE whenever I thought about it, I was sure that I would at least make 4.0 there. I failed. Perhaps I didn't write what they were looking for. Perhaps I didn't read their instructions properly. Perhaps I was over-confident.

I had fancied 115 in TOEFL. I was in fact expecting it. When I first saw my score on my ETS's profile, my first reaction was "Hmm! Okay. Sure". I had to accept it but later I realized that I was good and my score should satisfy me. I was happy with GRE though I also had thought of more than 1400 there. There were no big efforts put behind it so I never let even a bit of negativity effect me. I kept thanking Allah and He kept blessing me.

I am frequently reminded of a conversation I heard between my mother and a paternal aunt. It was at least three years back when this happened. My mother was telling my aunt about my early school days when I would go to her office daily after school-hours and she would bring me home in the bus along with my brother. She said that one day I had asked her to buy me peanuts and she didn't. Now, I remember asking my mother for those nuts several times and she did buy them for me, but this particular day it was different. There was a reason she wasn't buying them for me. She had no money with her. And that day I had told her "you don't have even a rupee for me". That was more than 12 years back.

My mother was telling my aunt how time had changed and how different and easy things are now. Today, now, Sunday, the 24th of February, with all that I can put behind my intense feelings, with what all sincerity I can attach to my words, I thank Allah that I am in a position from where I spend hundreds of rupees and I don't have to report that to my parents. I can just ask them for more and they give it to me. There are always reasons why I consider myself to be the most blessed. There are more reasons than the one I have mentioned just now.

I spend hundreds on cell phones, I spend hundreds on shawarmas, I spend hundreds on ice creams and chocolates and the list is enough lengthy. And I am the same guy who once quibbled at his mother for not buying him peanuts worth a rupee. And I am the same guy who knows how important it is to cry to thank Allah. I wonder why some people still consider me mysterious and complicated.

Last Saturday I visited my maternal grandfather's grave. I had been thinking of going there since long and finally got a chance. That was for the first time that I went to visit a grave all alone. I first went to its gate and saw the bolt shut. I came back to a nearby shop and asked the person there if I could open it. He said I could. Then I bought some roses and went inside. It hardly took me any time before I found my grandfather's grave. I didn't know how to react when I saw his name engraved on the tablet. Time was moving fast. I put some flowers there and some on the graves surrounding his. I stood there silently for a few seconds facing the quibla.

Time seemed to race by me. I wanted to stand there longer hoping that I could talk to my grandfather. Deep inside my heart I knew that was never possible. I wanted to be there longer. Something pulled me out. I shut the gate close letting it make the least sound possible and reached my grandmother's home in some time. I was happy I went there but I wasn't satisfied. I couldn't understand what had me leave the place so soon. I could have even prayed in the mosque overlooking the graveyard. I couldn't understand what exactly was going on. The only thing I know now is that I have to visit that place again very soon.

Earlier that day I had been to my school. As I got down at the bus-stand near Cherma's, I could recollect my old days. I entered Gunfoundry thinking about my father's old scooter in which he dropped me for 12 years. I saw the new name of the stationary shop; earlier it was 'Uncle J'. Then I looked at the straight streak of auto rickshaws lined along both walls of that lane. As I crossed the buildings of Rosary Convent I recollected the stairs in front of the catholic church there where I used to play with my friends for long hours. I visualised the parking space which was reduced by some construction activity which never succeeded to its objective.

It was 12 noon when I saw 'All Saints' High School' written high above the building which was separated from me by the sprawling football ground that lay before me reminding me of a scar I still have on my right hand's elbow. I glanced at the corner of that ground where I had skidded causing a thick and bloody bruise on my elbow. It was when I was in 9th standard running after the white ball trying to play this game called football. My only game was to run after the ball and shout whenever my team won. There were some students practicing cricket there this Saturday.

I met the necessary people who gave me the necessary attestations on my memos. I wanted to meet my PT sir and thank him for the discipline he had taught me but I couldn't find him. I met the new Rector there who asked me to stay in touch with the school. I couldn't believe that he was being so polite to me. When I was leaving I tried to see if I could feel any affection for my school. I walked staying close to the railing that had probably stood there for years as the only protection from the playing-ground that was 20 feet below. I could recollect standing there on the walkway in a long queue whenever I had reached late to school.

I saw the place my father use to park his scooter. I saw the speed-breaker that had played a very important role for years. I saw all the places I used to play. I saw the entrance of the church. I saw the steep slope where I used to run. I saw the crowded street because of which I used to come late to school at least once a week. I walked through all these places recollecting my old days.

Then I passed by the bus-stand that was a stop for hundreds of buses but only one of them was for my home. I walked though the wide road I used to walk daily. I crossed it from the same point I used to cross it. I walked on the same zebra-crossing I always used to take. I looked at the red-signal which could be manually operated to stop the traffic for crossing. When in the middle of the road, I looked at the vehicles that were desperately waiting for the green light, in the same way they used to wait seven years back. I walked past all the shops I used to walk then. I tried to feel something. I searched for it inside me. I wanted to find something touchy. Something. At least a bit of nostalgia. Something emotional. At least a bit of it. There was nothing.

Those were the difficult days. There were struggles. There were a lot of tough learning times. There were financial insecurities. There were friends but never closed ones. I am still in touch with a few now but they have all changed and I don't like it. I, myself, have changed. I like that part. I like this comparatively newer life I am living. I will thank Allah again if I get to thank Him enough. I have no doubt seen and experienced what many have seen. I just have some different perceptions. My priorities are different and straighter.

Every inch I get closer to my friends, I know that very soon I will be thrown miles away from them. I still prefer being closer to them. It's all worth the pain I haven't seen yet but could only imagine. Somehow I still find it unfair that I meet some people, stay with them for a few years, then suddenly get separated from them. It looks so, so unfair. I don't complain. It's just the way Allah wants. I only find it hard to swallow.

Some days a friend told me that being lean is a big turn-off. The turn-off was supposed to be the turn-off on girls. And I replied telling that there were better things to look for. So I first had to myself look for better things in me. I did find some. But they were all relative. I don't really know if I am apparently required to have something as a turn-on. I can as well hold a big piece of near-melting dark chocolate in my hands!

Just some days back I ate a complete pack of chocolate by licking it from its foil open and spread on my palm. I was even using my fingers to have it. It was definitely uncivilized on my part; I enjoyed it. Later it was my kerchief that had to bear the stickiness of my fingers and my fingers were still sticky even after I reached home. I know sometimes I can shed my mask of civilization - sometimes, only with chocolate. And yeah, there's more chocolate in the refrigerator right now!

Searching For A Place

Are you not entertained? ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED? Is this not why you are here?
-Maximus, Gladiator

With a friend today I went to an office of DHL. They told us about the huge cost we will have to bear if we use their services to send our applications to the universities in US. It sounded a bit dizzy to me when I had to include another $155 to my initial estimates. Though I already knew about this cost I hadn't included, I wasn't expecting the person there to tell us that he would charge us more than Rs. 1,000 for each packect we send. And he was apparently saying that it was after a 50% discount. I remember my other friend spending around Rs. 900. That looks acceptable. The extra Rs. 100 won't make much difference. But when there are six packets, those Rs. 600 can rather be spent on some lunches or fast-food!

Yesterday after reaching home I was tired and wanted to sleep. But there was this feeling telling me how my time would get wasted if I hit the bed. I turned on the computer for a while before my eyes gave up. I had to crash out and wake up after 10 pm. That short time on the computer was the only time I could use the internet yesterday. Later in the night all my pinging took no replies and the connection was down. Today I called up the person and he sent technicians to repair it. The only thing they did was reconnecting the plug from behind. I wondered why I wasn't instructed on the phone to do it when I called their office.

I have so much to write but so little energy to spend. I know if I start things from Saturday now, it will take at least 30 minutes before I finish and I don't think I will be able to stand it. I am tired again and the only things I can do now are sit, listen and read apart from a little typing to chat with some friends who are online. I have many things pending and incomplete. I can make a list of all that. And I badly need to write about the Saturday I spent going to my school and with my cousins in the evening. Then there was also a gap in time I met with something that's going to continue till eternity. I should inshAllah write all this soon.

Replaceable

He sleeps so well because he is loved.
- Commodus, Gladiator

The only reason I update my blog today is the decreasing number of my postings per week. It’s only two or even less than that per week right now. Though they were many interesting and fascinating things I could have written about, I felt they shouldn’t be documented so openly. I can go on as well typing sentences that are understood only to those who were with me all the time; it would still make no sense that I wrote something intangible to most of the readers! But of course there are things worth mentioning.

Today I found some problem with the editing page on blogger.com. It seems to have something gone wrong with the formatting and it’s giving a lot of space between every sentence. I know I can solve it if I spend time but I am in no mood to use my brains. I used some yesterday and gave a satisfying seminar on a topic named ‘Cryptovirology’. It was unlike the project’s seminar where I was gasping for breath and was unable to speak clearly.

Today I was more fluent and less nervous. Because I was thorough with my topic, I hardly had to look at the slides. I just went past everything I wanted to tell in a confident tone. Though when my teammate for less than 7 minutes and one of the lecturers asked us why we were so short, I spoke for less than 10 minutes. Together, we finished the presentation in 13 minutes! I felt good after read the last words from my mind. I knew I had done it well leaving that lecturer no chance to ask us why we so brief. We were on the point and tried to keep it interesting.

Yesterday we went to Ohri’s again. It was the same yet wonderful ‘bull’s eye’ again but also had some spicy ‘chola batura’. The place was full with Valentine’s Day in swing. I felt uncomfortable when my friends left me alone for a while on the table. Then I called up one who was looking at some pastries and cakes at the counter – I needed some male company to fit myself into my own character! I reached home after 6:30 pm and slept till 9:20 pm after which I had to work for the seminar.

I lost my cool today for a short time when in the college. It was only reflected in my louder voice. I somehow understood I was loosing the grip when a friend told me that my tone was louder than expected. We were talking about our college fest, Cynosure, and I had things to speak up on. We have had many such discussions till now and I know there are more to come. We friends are trying to make the event big but only time will decide what’s more appropriate. There are many people with many suggestions, and I am a part of them.

The Minarets Of Credence

At night, I see their faces. All the men I've killed. They're standing there on the far bank of the river Styx. They're waiting for me. They say, "Welcome, brother."
- Achilles, Troy

Two days back I was thinking of writing about the vehicular traffic in Hyderabad. But today's experience makes it necessary for me to pour out! But I won't do it except for writing this first paragraph. The movement of traffic in this part of the world looks like a cavalcade of warriors moving is every available direction with an aim - the only purpose of being the first to get out of the procession. Everybody tries, some win, the rest loose. Those among the losers are the ones who obey traffic rules, respect the signals and keep their lanes. The winners being the majority, the losers are at the receiving end for only one mistake of theirs - trying to adhere to the rules. Minorities are always at the receiving ends.

It's the most sensitive of the time of the day for me when I go to bed for sleep and try to analyze the spent day or sometimes even ponder upon the life I have lived so far. It's not the fear of sleeping that keeps me awake till early mornings, but it's this sensitive time I have to spend thinking with no prejudice and no insolence. But in a way it always turns out to be harsh on my sleep. I have been having pleasant nights all these days but yesterday it was different. It was that fickle in time in the sequential thoughts of my mind that I imagined about the last moments I would be spending with my friends as a group. It felt painful but I said to myself that this is how I will grow up more matured and emotionally strong. But the next question was even more threatening - "Do I really need such maturity when I don't have my beloved ones close to me? Is that emotional intelligence worth the pain? What's the point in being strong when I am lonely?"

I have spent hours trying to decide the names of the universities I must apply for MS. It hardly gave me success. There are so many where I can apply and even get an admission into, but I don't want to fall into some college which is lesser than my profile. I am finding it difficult to find the right colleges in the city of my choice, with a fee I can afford, and a ranking appropriate to me profile. I am decided on only one university till now. I need to finalize five more. Anybody who knows more on this, knows me, and also my scores, please help me. The only favor I can do in return is pray and say 'JazakAllah Khairan'.

I am in a bit low in spirits right now. There is apparently no reason for me to be like that but there are some worries relating to the coming days. Like all engineering students I have seen the transition from schooling to college but I have never experienced how it feels to go through the transition of 'with them' to 'without them'. I know it's a matter of time and I will get used to everything. Even they will get used to it. We all will move on. Somehow it sounded unfair to me that I move away from these people. We spent so many wonderful times and then suddenly one day it will all be over. That reminds me of a quote "Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happens". That hurts more.

I never miss my school days. I don't want to meet any of my friends I had then. I am over them completely. I hardly have attachments to those from pre-university days. I don't like attending any reunion parties, I don't like going back to school to meet anybody; I don't even want to talk to any of those people. I just have some memories of those times, and I have the memories of the times I had with my parents, grandparents and cousins. And then it's all about my present friends. I cannot conceive of not having them around me. I wish the learning could be worth the separation. I wish I could mention some people here.

"People Should Know When They Are Conquered"

You will never be lovelier than you are now. And we will never be here again.
- Achilles, Troy

I was waiting for this day to come when I could with some honor write that when I am thinking of doing MS in US, I am giving something to make that happen. Right now I have all the backing from my parents and an unprecedented appreciation and encouragement from my friends and relatives. I have the financial aspects cleared and everything in order. There are only two things I need to wait for now - I 20 and F 1. Allah decides.

After writing IBSAT, I was sure that I could definitely get into any of the ICFAI colleges in India, but I wanted to see my absolute scores. They sent me a packet inviting me to attend their interview process. They even called me up asking me to come down to their office. They didn't let me know my scores. Then I came to know that they had given similar invitation to many other students who had appeared for IBSAT which was on 16th of December in 2007. Today I tried to check my score again on their website but it says that the combination of my identification number and date of birth is invalid. I find it absurd. I have these things in written and I know they are correct.

I am glad I didn't confirm with them for my interview which was scheduled for February 13th. ICFAI should understand that sending top class merchandise, spending a lot on marketing and promotion, sending free magazines and diaries and showing off their placement records doesn't made them better than low grade institutions. When they ask for Rs. 900,000 for a postgraduate diploma in business management, they need to remember that there are many companies and countries that don't recognize them as an institute for management studies. And it is even more hopeless when they refuse to let me know my scores. It took me Rs. 1,000 to understand all this. They took that money from me just to have me write their entrance test and to send those heavy packets.

XAT was classy. That was expected from the people of XLRI. Their test was of a good standard and could be seen as equal to the stature of CAT. My performance in that made it clear to me that I appeared in that test only because I had applied. The 77.21 percentile which I was made aware of through post on February 5th couldn't intimidate me. I presently have some mails including the rank cards of XAT and CAT spread on my desk. There are some from colleges who want me to apply for an admission. They should be moved and removed as trash.

CAT was still a satisfaction. I could appear ironic that I call it a satisfaction when in no way I am going to use it's 85.7 percentile. There were around 200,000 who appeared the test, there are around 29,000 who performed better than me, there is me who performed better than 170,000, I scored a 90+ percentile in the English section, nobody could tell me that my scores were bad though there was some unhappiness among my cousins and parents, immediate implementations of secondary plans and no regrets for what all I had done make me feel satisfied. And the satisfaction continues.

The day on which I received my XAT's score, February 5th, I went through an experience called GRE. I scored 1210 out of 1600 there with the breakdown as 760 in the quantitative section and 450 in the verbal. The analytical writing section too was good. That was satisfaction again as I am in a position to apply for the universities I was thinking of. There was something I needed and Allah gave it to me. I have all reasons to be satisfied. Of course my needs grow limitlessly.

Then there was today's morning which I was waiting again. I had appeared for TOEFL on January 19th and today, February 8th, was the day I was supposed to receive my score. It was 111 out of 120 with the scores in reading, listening, speaking and writing as 29, 26, 27 and 29 in that order; all of these out of 30 each. All this was more than just satisfaction! That score is accepted by almost all universities in US unlike the 1210 of GRE. All I do is just Allah and hope that I remain on the right paths till the end.

Today I had a pizza at a bakery near my college. It was a luscious chocolate dessert yesterday at Ohri's. It was literally a fiesta - like those I have in my dreams when I am hungry while sleeping. I had a heavy dinner sometime back and just thinking of this 'Bulls Eye' makes my mouth water. It was one of the best desserts I had in recent times. I wanted to have more of it but it was heavy leaving my craving for more but not letting my belly afford it. I wish I can go there right now and eat to my heart.

I can feel pain at multiple locations in my throat. I even had a soft drink in the evening. I have been continuing with ice creams and chocolate for a few weeks now and there seems to be no respite from this untimely temptation which has exploded without a warning. I am not talking any medication and am in no mood for any. The only change I made is the one in which I am not having cold water. The drinks and ice creams of course are cold.

Only Chocolate

After all... I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.
- Anna Scott, Notting Hill

Since the time I had that mango ice cream a few days back, my throat has been a space of irritation for me. After that day till today and now, I had more ice creams and many soft drinks. Two days back with two friends I was at Softy Den for two hours and I cannot recollect the number of cans of '7 Up' we consumed. Then it was more drinks today at the exhibition in the late afternoon. When I inhale and exhale air, it touches some sensitive part just at the end of my tongue and makes me cough. I couldn't sleep properly yesterday because of the same thing.

Just an hour back I was at my aunt's place with my uncle and two cousins sitting right in front of me. They both are doctors and I knew I had to talk to either of them. Some time later I was sitting beside my cousin and he had his arm over my shoulder and I explained him how I was feeilng inside my throat. He gave the perscription verbally and I will probably start that tomorrow. I am on some self-medication already.

I felt great after I wrote my last post. Then later I had some ambivalent thoughts which I had to let go. I am glad I wrote it. And I am very happy that I could speak my mind. It is not the words I wrote there or their timing, it is not the way I wrote it, there is no question about why I wrote it; there is only one thing - it is just the people I had in my heart and mind while writing. I can't help if I feel or think so much. I at least don't think about people who are not near me.

My aunt from Mecca is expected to arrive here next week. Today a cousin also told me about another cousin from Austin arriving someday around 7th. I have been waiting to meet them for so long and I cannot wait before I can talk to them. But when I try to think what exactly I must talk, I find no topic or reason. It's just my fondness of them I appreciate. Having them in front of me would make my eyes feel cool and my lips smile. I find myself experiencing this so often these days!

Suddenly I have stopped watching movies. I watched 'Troy' again for the 'nth' time yesterday but it was not the whole movie I watched; just some favorite scenes. I never miss the starting lines where eternity is mentioned. The first use of sword by Achilies in the movie can never be ignored. Then of course is the conversation between Hector and Paris after Paris shows him the Greek - Helen - onboard their ship. Every part of that movie amuses and inspires me. There is perhaps no other movie I can watch so many times. It's just a matter of tastes and likes. I cannot expect such affinity from anybody else towards this specific movie or any other movie for that matter.