The evening when i was railed....

Whenever i try to be gregarious, i end up falling in soup. It is not the abrasive treatment which leaves me agitated, but the divine intervention makes my case particularly singular. I'll explain it to you, where i fall short, or to be more exact, people rise above my expectations. This last month, i was in Kolkata. I was yawning in my office and was winding up for yet another banal evening. I had to go to Ballygunge (a local station in calcutta which is never taken care of by our Indian Railway). I was going with my collegue, who was supposed to catch her train from that station, and we both entered the platform from the backdoor. I had started a new conversation about how i get caught by the railway everytime. I guess it was all happened in a split second that i said where is the TTE? i'm here and pop! he materialised from crowd- from nowhere to now here! I was taken aback in the manner he asked me the ticket checker continued to ask for my ticket.
My heroism vanished and I stood there hapless as a sheep. I confessed that I did not have ticket and that I was just 5 feet away from the incline of the platform and that I just came to see my collegue off, and that too that I'd be leaving. Not without giving me the fine! He said in the most welcoming tone Come to my room.
In his room, I meakly said I'm sorry! but I soon realised that he was not going to change his stance. Realising this, I changed my stance, he said Nikalo do sau tirpan rupaye (Please shell out Two hundred Fifty Three Rupees). I threw my bag before him and said I don't have a single rupee apart from 4 rupees which i have for transport. If you want, you may have these! Now it was his turn to get a jolt! It was not possible to extract money from me anymore now, for i was in my same old miser form.
He asked me Where do you stay? Jadavpur came a short reply in the same breadth. He felt the shadows of Jadavpur University guys closing in on him. He was a weak fellow, craven too. I always wondered what is with these guys that people find them so- I mean people respected them until I witnessed a few goddesses of Engineering boozing and smoking weed! The IIT girls looked as harmless rabbits before them. After all, whatever they do in the campus, they were no match for these goddesses of Planet Jadavpur. And after declaring myself as a denizen of this planet, I boosted my position to that of pinless grenade which if held for long could blast in the face of Mr. B. Roy Choudhury. Yes, that was the name of TTE.
He was now being as polite as he could. He asked me, What is your department? I said Architecture. It was as if this word did some magic on him that he said Oh! You too are from Architecture (pronouncing "ch" as in chicken)? and he stepped forward to shake hands with me. I was waiting for this. This was the signal that this guy could be tweaked. I asked him Are you too and Architect? He was thrilled at being called as an architect, in a place where noone knew more of him than just a ticket collector. He said, no er, I did a PGDCA course in which i had a course of Space management hehe, that's all!! It never matters if it's a single course or the whole curriculum, people become architect from heart, and i see that kind of feeling in you. Say, why don't you apply for further studies in Architecture? That guy was gloating with joy of an architecture student calling him an Architect. He was simply thrilled. Seeing that, I continued, And if you need some formal training then allow me to introduce you to my Boss. He is always happy to meet and help courageous people!
Can I have your Number please? He asked, humbled. I gave him my number and said If you have doubt, then you may ring me to check the validity.
Oh no! I was not doubting over this, but say, could you give the number of your boss too?
Oh, Sure! But please don't mention him about this incident!
Definitely!! You are like my younger brother, and i want to talk to him for some training in architecture! Will he recognise you? and come on, just catch any train. No need to buy tickets! Just tell my name to whoever asks you!
but...No no no!! You must go today by train! It'll be my pleasure. No more buts! okay? He looked akin to the Maharaja of Air India, just that flights of Air India are much worse than a calcuttan local train in comfort. I nodded my head like a good boy and went back to the station. In the train, my mobile rang. It was he who was trying to check my number! I picked it up.
Is this Nimesh?
Yes, Can i help you?
Er, No! Actually i just called to see if you are comfortable or not.
Actually sir, thank you for calling me, and i'm in all the comfort!
That poor screwed up thing did not know what to do. After some good nights and bye byes, he ended the call. I surely had won, and landed in a boggie which was overstuffed with people who were not going to get down on Jadavpur, and were one helluva flatulent. I started shouting at the top of my voice Utarna hai! Utarna hai!! And those good people gave me the way and after floating through them for next 30 seconds, i found myself on the Jadavpur station. When i turned back, i saw those nice people cursing me for the trouble i caused to them! That ended a long day for me.

It's Darker After the Don

I don't want to sound like a bittered critique. I have been hearing a lots of applause for it, and i don't deny that it was a bad attempt to mimic hollywood. But the fact remains a fact that mimicry seldom sells, if accompanied with skin deep thinking.
Don has all the oomph oozing of a high budgeted, slick movie. It has all the necessary ingredients to bedazzle anyone, but a single Rupee question pops up (like all other pop- ups in the internet, which others did not care to think about) is this- has the director/ writer given enough thought about how to change the script? If the answer of yours is an Aye, then i must exclaim, that i beg to differ.
The end is fantastic, just like i wished hindi movies had. But it has a lot of problems, at least which i don't like at all.

To begin with, i ask this- Don to be omnipresent, either you have to be the atmosphere, or you have to be the big G (The Omnipotent). So, how can you be present at all the places just at the right time? If your success rate is so good (even the golf shot u hit, hits the person on his forehead and he dies- seems slick with all the orchestra in the background, but kya karein! my brain does not have ears!) you can even try for NBA Golf tours, India needs you.

Point number two- how is it that people around you are so dumb that they don't chalk their plans meticulously. what they do is bang their fists on the doors/ lift doors/ walls/ with all those stylish english dialogues, after their plans have crumbled (no wonder). I am pointing to the dialogue "Tumhein yeh pata hai ki ismein goliyan nahin hain, mujhe yeh pata hai ki ismein goliyan nahin hain, lekin police ko yeh nahin pata!!" No sweetie! Thank your stars that the DCP was a dumbass, who forgot to add this particular detail in his oh- so genius plan, motivated by Kamini (the revengeful fiancee of Ramesh, murdered by Don). I'll be blunt- it was the police who mistook- the director who forgot to change this error, and not the genius of Don which saved him.
Amitabh in Don version 1.0 had a completely Allahabadi accent of hindi as a benign Tamashe wala. It suited him, for everyone knew he hails from Allahabad, and his natural accent soothed our ears. Had Shah Rukh Khan kept his original accent, or some other accent which was simpler and original, his performance would have looked realistic. This is where his 100% accuracy missed the mark, let's accept he too has a severe linguistic problem, folks, that he can not fit in a crude role (This problem of his peeped earlier in Paheli as well).

What i believe is adding technical fervor to a story is more important than adding it to production of movie. The duplicate of don had been imbibed with all the body marks of the latter. Has director heard about three magical alphabets D- N- A? How about that googly? The question here can be raised that why the hell the question of DNA has been raised? It is because, seeing that this movie has a futuristic and forward touch, it was the least we could expect of the story, something which was more authentic and more realistic, than just using some gadgets. There are other lists- secured mobile connections, airplanes which fly at X mach (with X greater than 2), with host of other things.

"Apne doston ke naam yaad aa jana ek baat hai, lekin hamare peshe mein apne dushmanon ke naam yaad rakhna zyada zaruri hota hai" Narang says this. What he should have been expecting as an answer was a name, which was not in a police records, a name which only don and his accomplice knew. Another logical error on part of story writer/ director.

The story was supposed to be steely, icy and perfectly evil at the core did not mean every character had to be devoid of human emotions. To exemplify, i'd say the point where the two heroes are celebrating their union (read fighting) are intervened by the kid. The kid gives a perfectly robotic expression. He is just a small wonder!

One more thing which bugs me is this- From where does one get all the time to remain a dutiful cop and a kingpin of a gang?

I agree the music is great, and i agree, the promo was great too, and what i call this? samosa packing- yesterday's left overs and today's maida maketh the great hot samosa!

... Till Death Do Us Party!

Welcome to World Self Murderer's Association! Here at World Self Murderer's Association, or WSMA, we are trying to make a suicider's attempt more formal and and more efficient than usual, so that they may always rest in a piece after the attempt. We have witnessed quite a few felo de se who find themselves on hospital beds and have mistaken doctors and nurses as St. Peter/ Lucifer aka The Satan/ Yam devata/ Chitragupta (depending upon the hospitality and religion) and Angels/ Witches/ Apsara/ Chudail (again depending upon aforementioned factors). So it is our simple and noble aim to provide all the necessary equipments and facilities for a successful suicide mission. It has been our motto Let's Make World a Better Place to Live and Leave and Let Leave. I have a dream that every human on this earth must have a card in his hand, the membership card of this Association- Kar Lo Duniya Mutthi Mein, Hum Hain na!

Yes sire! you can verify our records, all of our members are dead hitherto, at least we never found anyone resurrected/ undead. I must admit that the business is roaring these days especially after the stylising of blogging and suiciding amongst students of some premier institutes/ after taking CBSE board exams. We provide ergonomic, very best, reliable and foolproof time tested ways to end the life. That's why we say Believe in Yourself, Believe in the Best.

Fine Prints:

1. We do have some student's scheme which allows a rebate of 50% in fees for registrations.
2. If you are a daughter in law, if your marriage is just new (must not be older than 365 days) then we provide Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahut Thi Scheme: we give you 40% rebate, and we supply kerosene/ gasoline/ LPG free in that case (you need to buy the matchstick yourself, we recommend Horse- Head ones, they light faster, and one stick is enough).
3. If the Marriage is older (366 days to not more than 540 days), then We have Kahani Gharr Gharr Ki scheme: we depreciate the rebate by 5% per month under this scheme.
4. Note Bene: We do not recognise any marriage older than 540 days, we consider it as a particular case of Alien Encounters of The Third Kind and hence a perennial headache to which everyone will eventually (and gradually) get immuned to. The Scheme hence is named as Kasauti Zindagi Kay Scheme, and is currently out of our scope of action.
5. For the people in other sectors like some school boys immolating themselves/ people committing any other act of cowardice/ martyrdom willing to die, like seasonal suiciders, as we prefer to call them, we have a scheme of Kaahin kissi Roz... There are no rebates whatsoever, we treat them as respected guest consumers of our person specific services.
6. Suicide Bombers are not considered in the category mentioned in 5 above.

Here is a sample form which needs to be duely filled to gain a member status in WSMA:

• Name:____________________________.

• Occupation: Student/ Housewife/ Lunaticism/ Fanaticism/ Suicide Bomber/ Other (please mention): ______________________________.

• Purpose which this mission serves (in not more than fifteen lines): _______________________________________________________________.

• if you want to blame anyone/ anything (Yes/ No, if yes, please name them, in comma separated format):________________________.

• How many times have you failed in suicide attempts before? (Please Mention in Numerals not greater than 4 digits, not negative numbers): _____.

• If more than 1, any reasons for your failure? (at least 10 words, attach more pages if needed, this will appear in our FAQ, for the people intrigued why they were unsuccessful in their attempts): _______________________________________________________________.

• What is the equipment you need (please tick one or more): (a) Knife/ scissors/ blade/ any sharp object (b) Kerosene/ Gasoline/ LPG (c) a raised podium and a rope (d) other (please mention).

• Which membership facility do you want (tick one)? (a) VIP (b) deluxe (c) sadomasochist (d) blind game (e) Techno.(Description: VIP- Rope has soft, but sturdy material with a safety factor of 2 to bear double your weight, knife is excellent non-rusted stainless steel with platinum edged, LPG doesn't have a Pungent Ethyl Mercaptan smell which is irritating to many, podium has a red carpet with a welcome message printed with your initials on it. DELUXE- Good quality blade/ knife/rope/ podium; best and economical. SADOMASOCHIST- chains and barbed wires, (accessories are handcuffs, and gags) instead of ropes, two handed saw in place of knife/ blade and compressed fart and taped musical cacophony as a substitute of silent LPG. BLIND GAME- you will recieve a surprise item for your suicide mission, makes your suicide hour a happy and amusement hour. TECHNO- Calls for ultra modern suicidal techniques like employing overdose of Osmium in your favourite Diet cola Drink or overdose of Potassium Chloride to give the heart some extra jerk).

• Stimulus/ event in breif which pushed you towards suicide (please attach extra sheets, shall the space seems insufficient) e.g Ditched by a girlfriend, stumped by mates, abused by master, kicked by mother in law, bad food in mess etc: _________________________.

• An Informal letter/ formal application attached herewith this form (in CBSE proforma).

• Left thumb imprint (if Male) or else, Right thumb Imprint (if female).

• The Stamp sized Photograph.

• Type of membership (please tick one): (a) lifetime membership (b) yearly (c) seasonal (d) once (e) trial offer.

Signature with date: _________________ .

I have read all the above crap and i will abide by the rules of the Association, and I understand that the above mentioned information is correct to the best of my knowledge, and I and only I shall be left responsible through out my life for any discrepancies if found, at later stage.

Granny's Tale

Once upon a time, there lived a caveman, whose name was Mau, who had some serious questions. It was the question of his very existence... He had domesticated a dog and used to call him Kau, the dog had the same doubts concerning his existence. The first doubt was food. The dog would smell some animal and run after it, jeopardizing the poor creature. It ran hither and thither and the man would eventually hunt it down. Back at the cave, the man would happily smoke the prey and put some small part of it's flesh before Kau. Kau would gooble it and wag it's tail with the man who would be asleep by then. This is how their lives were passing before them, until one day Mau realised he was too lonely in the world, it wasn't Kau, he was indeed his game partner, but Mau needed someone to express his thoughts to, someone who might make him understand that barbecued hunt feels much better than smoked one, one who may ask Mau for some water and put his day's booty on the fire, make him feel home, and yes, his cave needed some cave paintings as well! Naturally, kau could not do all those chores. He was good to drive away squirrels from the cave and warn Mau about some trespassing guest, but that was all he was good for. It was the second question Mau was facing. Mau needed a life partner...

Fast forward a few aeons...
My neighbourhood Girl was fattening, and my granny was getting restless with each passing day How will she get married! And who will marry such a girl like her!! She made it her concern to worry about every living creature and it's/ hers/ his pot pourri. It was not a question of marriage, but i thought it was more about her always having some worries at hand as a time pass. It was irritating. If you can not change something, then why to crib about it? i would ask. She would not say anything else, but her facial experience would reveal that the turmoil never subsided. When she was not worried about such lowly things, she would always worry about Aaj ka khana kya banega...? (what shall i cook for the next meal), as if it was some great problem haunting The Human race! I was left irritated, i knew this had trickled into the habits of granny, and old habits die hard.
Slow Forward a few years...
I was in IIT. And the summers had just started. I was eating a mango when the telephone rang. I was waiting for this thing to buzz eagerly. But now i wasn't mentally ready to pick it up. It was bhaiya on the other side with the result of Mathematics module- II 's result. I did not want to hear that. I had a hunch that something was not going right. However, i picked up the phone and bhaiya's voice croaked to tell me i failed in it! For a second, i was shocked. I had to go back to Kgp. Believe me, the campus of Kgp sans students looks too serene and extraordinarily calm to live. It was a hot and humid summer, no mess to eat and all the mess in my life! It was a queer feeling. The other inmates staying at the Hijli Detention Camp (yes, i called IIT Kgp that then) did not work at my frequency. As a matter of fact, the place was terrible. Afternoon sun was getting stronger and i was feeling hungry, what to eat was a question, as far as hunger, my classy choice of food and economy were concerned, i realised that i was in a situation of compromise. I had to solve this problem. I went in search of some restaurant, but they had closed by then, i had to fill up my alimentary canal by some egg burger and some chips, certainly not a good choice for staple food. I was left starving. I decided that as soon as it is time for dinner, i'll go and seat myself at some good (the level of good depends upon place, person and time) restaurant (i was still very hungry) and hog like hell. I needed food at all costs. And when i was full, i had other worries of getting an Ex (a full 10 pointer) in the subject i feared most from. It was a tough life. The days flew just worrying about the class, notes, almost daily tests, and the creativity of the professor, and nights flew in the Central Library, which fortunately is open most of the time. It was then i realised that i too was instinctively working on the same principles of survival, the same questions which my granny pondered on- what to eat, and how to survive. It was just that i was in Room number E-112, and not a cave/ kitchen.

A month and a half passed by....
I was now present most of the times in the professor's chamber. It was a symbiotic existence in which we both believed. I helped him prepare his questions in a more creative way, and he used to solve my doubts. We both had something to give to each other, we both were learning. It was something which made me happy, gathering knowledge. I was happy that my summers were not a waste. They were utilised for a greater good. It was my future being written then. (I got an A in the subject, and I never knew that this man wold be playing an important role in deciding my path). Back then, it was something which i learned from him that i still am proud of. I was no longer studying for marks, i was studying it for knowledge, and i used to share a bit of these with my friends, who were then just trying to mug up the whole book of Kryeszig. I have no idea if they could catch my point, it showed on their faces. But i realised one thing, I had rediscovered a new path which made me different from these people. I had an aim different from surviving. I was no more a survivor now, i was more than that. It took me another 4 years to realise this, but i now know that there are quests other than the questions of food and family. One such quest is knowledge. It makes us more than survivors. It is one such answer to my question which i asked my granny Don't you have anything else to worry about?

To Tag an Animal- Part 2 of 1: A Dry Man Professes

Yes dear sirs and dear madams, it indeed is part 2 of 1, because i intended to write just part 1 and not this part, but it seems my lovable neighbour Mr. Psycho dude wanted me to quench his esteem as well, so i'm here for yet another Tag bashing. I still maintain, which i accepted in my last post that such petty games (except for games involving some duet number/ running around trees) do not interest me, but seems as if i have some choice left! I am a slave of two kind of people: #1. those who are my friends and are humans/ humanoids (in english we refer to them as "He/She") and #2. Some objects like my computer and some animals like a mainah bird who always insists i complete my sleep in just half an hour at half past five in the morning (English allows them to be refered as "It"). Mr. Psycho Dude falls in the former category, and whence insists that i divulge what is my choice of a perfect lover. So here we go:

Disclaimer: Most of the information and people/ animals/ viruses here are fictitious, and any resemblance/ sitings to real people/ animals/ objects must be termed "strictly schizophrenic hallucinations".
Criterions for being My Perfect Lover (reading Viruses in lieu of lover will also do):

1. She (It) should be a treat to talk about! I should be able to brag about her (it) in my friend circle.
2. She (my dewdrop) should be interested in computers, and It (the Virus) should be interested in girls (this filters about 99.999% girls and 100% computer viruses).
3. She should be be strong willed and independent, it should be strong rooted (you know what i mean) and highly independent.
4. She should be cool minded to counter my (sometimes)random mood swings, and it should be hot enough to handle mood swings of my virus catcher desi- program (this program sometimes hunts a few viruses down, and sometimes lets them screw my system, a nutty thing this!).
5. She should have have a nice, sweet personality and a positive outlook towards life, and It should be nice, sweet pictured and positive messaged (I loath the irritating ones (viruses) like "Oh my god! Someone killed the chinese hacker!!" which keep on popping up the obituary if some chinese hacker and (girls) like "Oh my god! Shooo shweeeeeetttt na!!" i feel like kicking their asses!!)
6. Both must understand my weird passions and liking/ files in life/ comp, which I may/may not share.
7. It should love me more than anything in this world, and she, less than anything in this world (so that leaving her after a fortnight is not an issue).

May God find my match (Batch file) soon!

We- a Rebel

A dad in a bollywoodian flick is bound to be flawy in the beginning, and a minister, bound to be shot dead at the end! I noticed it right from the first minister- chhap film i saw it was Akhree Raasta, but being the youngest in my family, i had no one to look up to! I later convinced myself that ministers are supposed to be immoral and/ or amorous and they are aptly shot in the middle/ end of the movie. Sometimes i used to enjoy when Sadashiv Amrapurkar's or our great "mogambo" Amrish Puri's body rolled on the floor weighing double with the lead punched in them by heroes almost equal to their weights.
Yes, portraying ministers as diabolic creatures and then killing them has been a norm in bollywood, call it a great deed if u wish. The hero is always right when he kills a minister, and he needs not be justified for his oh- so- heroic deed. Why r they not justified? Just now, my neighbour pointed that Pramod Mahajan Died, did it make any dx difference in our lives? There is a clean answer NO. Crystal clear. He was shot by his agitated brother who always had some revolver tucked in his pyjama (reminds me of Hindustani version of Clint eastwood!). Rang de Basnati Fans, sorry to poke you people, that till now you all were enigmatic about the idea of killing a poor (!) minister soul, but see, what has changed? nothing, who has changed? nothing and will anything change? You know the answer very well...
Nayak had Anil Kapoor trapped Amrish Puri and had him killed. Akhree rasta ended with Amitabh Bachchan killing Sadashiv Amrapurkar to avenge the death of his wife Jaya Prada.
It is the perennial problem of Bollywood that they always tend to romanticise any concept, let it be politics, war, love or a game. This is what a film like Rang De Basanti did. It converted even bunking classes to candy floss, and my generation swayed in unison with the song "Be a Rebel". I have two left feet, so i could not dance with them, but i tried to croon. But i could not sing, for, i need some lyrics to sing. Listen carefully to the lyrics, and i promise, this song will fade quickly. I may sound cocky, and the people may pelt stones at me for this, but then, i don't find the lyrics appropriate. It talks about the loser attitude of people, that bunking classes is all correct, and why? because the main protagonist wants to! So just to justify him, his friends sing this song, and did i forget the stanzas! They r indeed forgettable, soulless, cold and meaningless for a dud like me.
Comparing the whole issue of assassinating a minister equivalent to Bhagat Singh's Parliament- Bombing- Action was at best, childish. C'mon Mr. Rakeysh Mehra, you want me to accept this absurdity! It's like accepting paradoxes in mathematics as we started from a=b and ended on 1=2! I'd say Ha Ha Ha; loud and clear.
The question hence i want to raise is what is achieved by killing a poor minister? If you want to be a rebel, try to change yourself. If we all improve ourselves, we will be a rebel. I liked Yuva in this regard, it had the idea in it (The last reel where we find Ajay Devgan and Vivek Oberoy sitting in House, determined to change the system), similar to what i have reckoned till now. If we do not change our thinking patterns, killing a minister will never solve our problems, only the faces will change, nothing else, and faces are the last things on our minds to change.
I say, Rang De Basnati was too immature, and so was Akhree Raasta, and its likes. I am not impressed by Rang De Basanti, nor i'm happy with the news of death of a Minister.
It's We- A rebel that quenches me.

Comfortably Dumb

Whoever said silence is golden, was right, if asked for my vote, i'll surely raise both my hands in his favour, in fact owing to my bihari roots, i'll just go and loot the booth! It is not that i'm dumb, but this is too far fetched that even while typing this article a few windows on my monitor popped up.

• Please pass this on to as many people as you can... There is a girl/ boy who is 10 (most preferably in single digit) who has been suffering from kokakolapeptic disease which has been found in 6 (preferably some integer number not divisible by 5) people in the whole universe/world (mind you, any domain less than world is a compromise). Yahoo/ Google/ Microsoft/ Intel/ Sun/ Mac/ IBM/ Lenovo/ Hewlett- Packard/ Casio/ Any other biggie has promised to track this mail, and have agreed to pay 3 cents per forward. And of course, the parents are poor. To avail the facility of Net, they have to be in some advanced country, and it seems that though the fifth of the world lives in China and sixth part of world resides in India, it is the rest half of the world's abode is America, so i never knew America too had such needy people (no taunts meant). To make it convincing, the add a cutee cutee picture of a small baby, so that your girlfriend can say awwww, it's so nice na! let's pass this message to RoW (rest of the world). To assure successes with those, who do not have girlfriend but are sentimental, there is also a punchline If you don't pass this message, you don't have heart!
• Poke Your nose: The emails can always be tracked. In fact it was used during the cold wars. But to track an email, the costs are so high that Yahoo!/ Microsoft/ Sun/ whatever would find it easier to finance the patient than pushing their valuable time in such things as tracking and all. Moreover, what has my heart got to do with the passing of email? Forwarding has just reduced the bandwidth for useful purposes, nothing else. How is it that Yahoo! agreed on such things? if it is, i'm the most needy of all, do let me know!
• Today is World Friendship/ lovers/ Hateship/ Relationship/ Best friends/ Brother/ Sister/ Master/ Slave/ Pet/ Husband/ Wife /Tutor/ Student/ Whatever day! Please pass this to as many peaople as you can, and by midnight, your true love will recognise how much they love you! if u ignore this message, you will have a spell of misfortune for next 10 years.
• Poke Your nose: This word today has been appearing on my window for an aeon now! i never knew that we have to remember the above on that particular date, or else won't they listen? moreover, my fortune teller told me that i'll be having a wonderful fate for my next 14 years during the Mahadasha of Saturn! I have been wondering from my childhood, how is it that all things in the world like some witch turning a prince into a frog, or vice versa, or, say the vampire coming to suck remaining blood of yours (after the prof/ boss had his/ her rightful share), or, this, that your true love will call at midnight! As if all of a sudden a bulb will glow in brain and then she/ he will recognise me Ohhh! I now realise your true love, as you have forwarded this message to 117 people in 15 seconds! What crap!!
• Enough of prose, there are some messages which are in form of poetry. I don't remember any, but i'll try my best to construct an example:

Sky is blue, stars are yellow,

My Love is so mellow

Send this to ten people in 5 seconds. If you get 3 then you are the most loved person! And don't forget to send it to me, i'm waiting...

• Poke Your nose: Keep waiting, i won't spam anyone, i'll certainly won't forget to send this to you 15 times!

• There are some devotional Spams as well, for god fearing Goody boys/ girls of the almighty fan club. It goes something like this:

This is one of the two actual photographs of Tirupati Balaji/
Siddhivinayak/ Amarnath/ Nathula pass/ Chhajju Kirana Store/ Whatever/ Whoever.
And this auspicious photo should not remain in your mail box for more than 2
minutes, please pass this on to as many people as you can, and something good
will happen to you tonight at 12:00.

If you pass this to

• 2-5 people: You will get an eclairs from god's own factory.
• 6-10 people: You will get a Bicycle.
• 11 or more: You will get a month's free ration.

• Poke Your nose: I'm a nonbeliever of almighty. As if apart from Yahoo!/ etcetra, god is also jobless these days that he, leaving all the jobs, is tracing this all impotant email! Seems like he also has business ties with Santa Claus Inc.

These days, my cellphone keeps ringing and i do not pick it up. most of the times, either my Network Provider tries to sell me it's new ringtone, or some BPO of it trying to sell me it's love poems/ wallpapers of gods/ actors/ naughty jokes/ serious jokes/ Bull**** / whatever.

It is a solemn request, please do not forward messages- it is the creator who always has a hearty laugh hogging in his chair, and the faint irritating gasp of someone at the recieving end- not to mention that it eats the useful bandwidth of your network!

Think, if you don't forward it you have no heart- what if you forward it? Then you have no Brain! Think about it friends, it causes irritation to people like me to see windows popping up every odd minute.

These lines echo in my ears: water water everywhere, not even a drop to drink...

To Tag An Animal

It was my silent wish that someone tag me, i don't know, but this is some created demand to tag and be tagged, and lo! two people simultaneously tagged me. An anti- social that i am, i have to see if i can tag 7 or 8 prey who blog! I find it necessary to mention here that most of my friends do not blog, as a matter of fact, people close to me hate to read blog. I guess it is my blog to which they are allergic. I had a big doubt about tagging, i knew it was a hot thing in the picture, but as obsolete i am, i thought of asking my school junior if she knew anything about tagging, and she too turned out to be a non blogger! i thus turned to the people who tagged me, viz Sush girl and Psycho boy. One needs to be trendy, one has to be a copy cat! i found two completely differnet versions of tagging, and i'm trying my junglee best to answer impromptu to the questionnaire of Sush dudette. Yes Psycho buddy- i have even more obscure funda about girls, so it's better i do not use your template, i may not be able to write more than 1 point!
sometimes the trends seem to be crazy and childish enough- but then tht's how trends are supposed to be! I haven't seen sobreity being the trend of Paris/ Milan/ London/ IIT Kharagpur/ Arkham/ All other mental Asylums.

It's going to be a simple questionnaire, i was told, so i started with it:

1. Grab the book nearest to you, turn on page 18 and find line 4.After end semesters, i suddenly become the illiterati...
2. Stretch your left arm out as far as you can. and what good will that do to humanity? Let's apply the Gandhian Talisman (source any: NCERT book, what i never understood is that what will happen if we applied it to our exams!). For those who do not know, just have some patience, and i can clarify it.I Imagined the poorest person i have ever seen, that's my friend Cha Chi (pronounced as chaa' chee) . Now if i Stretch my left hand, then it will directly enter into his plate's domain, and his dessert Rasgulla will be in my pocket (for later consumption). So there is nothinbg he will gain, i agree, it'll be for his own good health. Moreover, i do not use deo, so it will be a further atrocity on that poor soul. So i conclude, it's better that i do not stretch my left hand!
3. What is the last thing you watched on TV?Kahani Grrr Grrrr Ki!
4. Without looking, guess what time it is?What difference does it make, as long as you find urself on bed till 1 o' clock in afternoon!
5. With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?
   Anything as long it is not my girl(dog)friend's voice
6. When did you last step outside? What were you doing?
   When i went to take exam, i was conferencing with my friend about the possibility of my answer being correct, and his being wrong!
7. Before you started this survey, what did you look at?
   My monitor which has a wallpaper in which Prabhu ji is kicking asses of some "bigtime" monsters.
8. What are you wearing?
   i believe in natural dresses, These days, it's the banana leaves.
9. Did you dream last night?
   I dreamt that Prabhu ji came and asked me my secret wish, and he granted it in a flash!
   
10. When did you last laugh?
    I'm hysterical about laughter.
11. What is on the walls of the room you are in?
    A few chamelions, a pet cockroach- i'm fattening it, and will eat it some fine day, a few spiders here and there- they so beautiful, and their cobwebs dangling.
12. Seen anything weird lately?
    Yes, and i'm going to write a movie review on it soon. It's a hindi movie "Dil ka kya kasoor" (What's the point of blaming heart!)
    
13. What is the last film u saw?
    Gunda, followed by Chingari (Gunda is more like Bournvita, makes me strong to fight everyday evils.)
    
14. If you became a multimillionaire overnight, what would you buy?
    i'd love to buy some clothes for the needy people, most of which are our heroines, this is one of the messages of Gunda.
    
15. Tell me something about you that I dunno?
    That i do not wear underwear (call it lewd if u wish, but i ask you, did u know it? don't answer in a yes!)
    
16. If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do?

... Nah, It's not my cup of tea! God help me!! Sorry Sush Girl and Psycho Dude, but i'm getting impatient and restless answering such difficult and important questions as well. Don't take it personally, but I'll not be able to complete the questionnaire! You all know i'm wild, and these questions are far more civilised for me to answer...
Trust me guys, i was not made to follow the trendy elite few. I'm fashionable in my own right, and this is how i end this new impromptu article.

Mid Semester Break- 2 of 2: With Chalice Towards One and All

So, in this sequel, the story goes a completely different path. I know, It was long back in the Triassic age that i wrote it's prequel, but then, they say, it's never too late!
It was a pathetic environment there at the infamous ABC Roy Hospital. It was a stressingly calm atmosphere. I was not expecting anyone, as i lie more in the anti- social realm than being in unsocial. But i was expecting some friends of mine to have a casual visit, even if it was not out of love and care which they never showed!
I agree, it was my choice to be cut apart from the society, but then, i was feeling my solitude more keenly. My job was just to lie flat on a hard bed, doing nothing.
Two days passed, and then to my surprise, whole bunch of my department friends came to visit me! It was a sigh of relief, and i was rejuvenated. People did visit me, but it was just for half an hour or so. My neighbour told me "Boss, aapne off season mein visit kiya hai!" (Dude, it's an off season!). He was right, as i was the kunig of the whole Inpatient ward. I made a devious plan of running away from this dreadful hospital, with my pal Czacci (Pronounciation- Cz as in Czech Republic, and CC as in Gucci) where there was no concept of event horizon and space- time warp. It was a pathetic place devoid of any sense of time. As soon as the doctor came to me, he, as if by some magic asked me about relieving me, but advised me to stay in bed, just like a frog on a dissection table- pinned. It was a torture, but still in a magnitude negligible when compared to my condition there in the ABC Roy Holiday resort.
As soon as i came back, i started playing a movie named "Kuchh Meetha Ho Jaye" (Let's have some sweets).
My long lost girlfriend then came online. She had nothing to say about where our relation might have headed to, if she and i were together any more. It all sounded like a candy floss, full of sweetness, and devoid of any weight. We finally decided to part our ways, so that both of us had our fair shares of game to play, than patching up and acting sauvve.
I also had some friends on net who then thought i had a distorted view about life, so we had a good heart to heart fight. I bounced them out of my realm.
My one online friend came from past and we patched up our differences, in a more milder way. She was happy to find me again, happy and peppy, and i was glad she was in a much better position than yesteryears.
It was looking like episodes of some classic milestone serials which i used to take no interest in, when i was a kid. Each passing day in the hostel was like a pre- rehearsed drama, being played on the monitor.
Kuchh meetha ho jaye had a story about a few people left stranded on a small air- terminal. They were then forced to stay there, with their mates, and how their problems got sort out when they really started to talk to each other.
It was the case exactly with me. It was a time forced upon me to think and rethink about the goals and the people in my life. To shed some of my relations,which were either sick, or dead, and of course, some relations which needed to be renovated. I learnt that i was not an anti- social which i thought i was. Sometimes, we need to stop and think about our lives, and fortunately, sometimes life gives us that much needed chance.

Mid Semester Break - 1of 2

This weekend I celebrated by birthday with my friends, had my "The Last Supper" with 12 of them, and after that had my second journey (supposedly the last journey) to the dreaded hospital of A B C Roy in this campus commenced on the next day, oh- it was a good friday, i remember! It was a back ache which suddenly grew over me that day, and i could not sleep with that excruaciating pain.

In the Hospital, it was a hellish scene. People were crowding near the ticket counter, with two elderly ladies on the opposite side of the counter, issuing tickets with some code for which doctor to see and some number. It was a rather slow moving system, typical of this race. I guess this "race" should be called as a "stroll" as regarding its pace. So, I gauged that it would take a hell of a time waiting there, and since i could barely walk, so i decided to get admitted as soon as possible, so i decided to bye pass the Ticket Counter.

I was thinking of some way out when i saw my sociology teacher standing there. Though I never liked attending those sociology classes that they never bored into my head and i was the least interested to learn how society functions. And when i saw her today, i felt relieved as if she was my back up! She recognised me and i greeted her, contorting my facial expression to that of misery. Naturally, as she asked me What happened? I replied with gusto, as i was waiting for her to ask this, I'm alright ma'm! Ma'm it's severe back ache, and i am even able to walk a few paces. I dunno but i felt a sort of joy telling her about how much pain i was in, and that i added the sentence I'm alright ma'm! to show how much i was iron willed to have crossed three quarters of a kilometer to get to this hopeless A B C Roy Hospital, which was assumed to be reliable enough between the profs! She too expressed deepest of her empathies and told me to stand, and not sit, and then started her age old saga of how it took her 10 minutes to wear socks, and how she came to the class, and how we never appeared to have appeared...! What followed was a boring lecture which she was proudly delivering in the midst of tens of people, especially a girl, who was a sort of aquaintance, and was now looking bewildered at me, pitying me for whatever physical, physiological and mental i was going through. After delivering her lecture to her heart's content, ma'm advised me to visit some Dr. Sharma who was a very kind and good doctor, and who would admit me immidiately and may expedite the procedure of admission.

I saw the doctor was busy on phone, so i decided to wait for five more minutes, as now i knew it was the shortest path to hospital's beds. To pass the time, i started to talk to the girl and her friend about the cause of their visit to the hospital.

It were 40 minutes and the doctor won't stop talking on the phone. He was a middle aged man. He was too old to have girlfriend at the other end. And i never knew people could talk to their wives for so long on the telephone except when newly married. Lastly he stopped talking on the phone and i raced inside to tell him my story. He was a patient man. He heard me to my heart's content and finally dictated me a long list of rules on how to get admitted. It was like listening to some audio book named "Getting Admitted for Dummies".

After waiting for what looked like ages, i found myself at the counter. The lady told, "Mukherjee". I asked her, "I'm sorry?". She raised her voice "Mukherjee!".

I moved to the cabin of Dr. Mukherjee.

After sitting for 3 hrs outside the cabin, waiting for my turn, i was almost dead with afflicting pain. I removed the curtain, and asked "May i come in sir?". The doctor was filling some form, so he answered in a restrained tone "Yes". I passed my Ticket to him. He glanced the ticket for a while, and said "Thees ees Doctar Mitra, not Mookherjee", and showed me the code for Mitra. I pleaded "Sir, i'm having excruciating back ache, please admit me, as i have been waiting for my turn for three hours now". He asked me my symptoms, and expressed his deepest sympathies "I know you are een deep pain, but listen, you must go to Doctar Mitra, as I have a caartain numbar patients to see daily, and that numbar is obher. Besides, you shood come in the ebhening, The orthopedic comes only then!".

I was seriously disgusted now. And when I'm disgusted, my other personality, The Terminator takes the charge of this hairy body. I dragged myself back to the ticket counter, they had played a dirty joke with me!

At the counter, I Said in a stern and high tone "Excuse me ma'm!", the lady did not understand, perhaps she was not addressed with this courtesy ever in the past. I shouted again "Hello, lady!!". Now she realised i was talking to her, she looked at me, and got shocked with the expression on my face.

"What the HELL is that! U people are just sitting here to crack jokes? Was that a joke which you played on me?? It was not Dr. Mukherjee, it was Dr. Mitra, and i come to know of it after 3 hours of waiting and when it has aggravated my back pain! You people are just crap! Mazaak bana rakha hai aap logon ne!!"

"Hum Mookherjee us ladka ka naam bola!" (I was calling the guy named Mukherjee, i Did not address you!)

"I asked you twice, and you replied the same, did not you?" i retorted. she was listening now silently. The starting of the week- and it was a blunder in which she was badly entangled! Two enthusiastic dada- bhai (bengali for "big brother") came forward as her saviours to save her from this tormentor!

"Ees Thees the way to talk to an elderly lady?"

"Do you see what has she done? It's because of her casualness that i'm suffering!"

"Yays, but you shood be respectphool towards har!"

"Hey Lady, now, don't engage yourself on phone, get back to work- and i want it immidiately!" i shouted at her, turning towards her.

"Are iyou a istudent?" another dada retorted.

"Yes!" i dared him in the eyes. It was after long that i was aggressive enough, that i could dare someone.

"No! iyou are not IITian"

"Don't you tell me who is an IITian- this lady has committed a blunder, sitting there, gossiping, and now see what has she done! You people are apathetic towards students!"

"Listen to me! Don't you speak! She is overworked!! They are the phirst ones to come here and leabhe in the last."

"On Monday Morning, at 9:30 AM? And do you know how many hours i attend classes? 12 hours a day!" i was feeling like diety Durga on her mission for these Mahishasurs of the society. Let this man be the prof, i don't care, today, i'll beat this system of theirs, the system of lethargy, the system of foolishness and the system against the students. Knowing that they don't retort, these people harass them. I was not in a mood to tolerate this any further.

The other dada said in a tone milder than ever "Iyou have no caartesy phor eldars, and iph iyou shout, i bhill make sure iyou are not treated here" he said this retreating back in the crowd, with the crowd looking at me, some of them sympathising with the lady at the counter, and some, of course finding this pleasurable!

"This is MY IIT, and Band, and cholbe na won't go here!" i said in a definite

"And YOU! write it down, don't dare gossip again!" I whacked the lady, again.

She returned my record book to me with the renewed ticket- with Mi (for Mitra) corrected to Mu (For Mukherjee)!

When i entered the doctor's chamber, he still was busy filling the same application form. He saw me enter, and squeaked "Oh! What Dipherence daaz it mayke, Mitra or Mukherjee, it's daa same! Actually... I had saam wark to do, that's why... you want to get admitted, i'll phill the phorm phor you! Pleej seet"

"It's too much pain to sit down." and i told him my symptoms.

In next 30 minutes, i was admitted.

I stayed in ABC Roy hospital for the next 5 days, and i left it with a renewed confidence that i gained in myself that day.

(To be continued...)

Unexplained Answer

"Rishivar aisa kyun hai ki hum aur hamara chitt unke liye vyakul hota hai jo humse prem nahin karte?"

(Translation: Why is it that we keep ourselves entangled with those who have left us far behind, oh The knowledgeable one, please tell us? shloka 12-45, Shree Durga-saptashati)

I always pondered if this was true in any case that when one acknowledged the fact that one was not loved, yet he had a soft corner about people who never had any corner for that blessed soul in their hearts! Is it not unnatural for us to think and react in this manner, however kiddish it may seem?

It is like a kid reacting in a bazaar for a teddy bear or a toy-train he understands that he is going to get only when he tops in the class, and that, is a tedious task at hand!

And i used to wonder that if this is the case then i figured out that the best solution would be to reject the wretched soul. To react properly and practically is an art which comes naturally to a small sect of people, The GM is the chairman of this sect.

My father used to tell me in my childhood "Life is a football match. People will try to abase you! Try to evade their moves and take the football to the goal." I never Understood it's complete meaning. I'm still trying to understand it. If we start bashing the opponents in the football match itself, we will lose the football. And what if we are attracted towards them, we start loving them? Weird idea it may be, but i created a hypothetical scene where two best buddies are in opposite teams. If they start playing their friendship tune in the match then both teams will face the music!

Simply said, i guess that what i thought earlier in my childhood is easily forgotten when in need.

Recently i went through another heartbreak. It was clear from the opposite party that she never loved me, for i was her teddy. You never love your teddy bear, you play with it! So today when someone asked me about why don't we both talk, i tried to evade this heartburning question, for i did not want to have another dose of this heart ache. I tried to elude this small girl, but the question was not that simple for me, because i was a grown up. And this little girl shot a missile from her bazooka. i could not think of any solution to it, rather i did not explain the answer to her, and i said Get lost to her! She quitened up. But this question was still echoing, and i didn't know the way to ask echo to get lost.

I loved this woman. I later learnt she did not love me. She did not defend herself when i charged her for this. It was a silence on her behalf. I accepted it as in accord with my charges. I thought she accepted it all. I still don't know what was in her mind. We do not talk any longer. And suddenly this girl comes into the picture just to ask me this question "What happened between you two?" and i get disturbed.

I still loved her. Assuming that she did not, why was i loving her? I now understood my childhood question that why don't people let go of those who don't love them anymore! It is exactly akin to the child in bazaar shouting hoarse for a teddy bear which he knows he is not getting! So the solution is simple too, we should stop worrying about the person who doesn't seem to care about us! It is a difficult thing from an adult perspective, but if thought from a viewpoint of a child, it's easy...

There was some better solution given in The scripture mentioned in the opening sentence, but i could not comprehend it. I guess i'm still young to understand those heavyweight ideas and it will take me another few decades to unravel the concept, and then i will write another PriLog-ic about Explainable Answers.

Malice in Wonderland

I don't remember much except that i drowned in some sort of deep slumber, later to be found in some bed of B C Roy (i learnt later that it was bed number 8), the local hospital in IIT Kharagpur campus. I was surrounded by some of my friends, my elder cousin (who also studied here) and the nurse. I was bewildered for a while. It was for two reasons that i could not guesstimate the numbers of hours i was in that blackbox of memory, neither could i make out how did i happen to come to this place, perhaps some hospital, nor, how did these people gather around me. Okay, Rakesh and my cousin were acquaintances, but Jha ji and him? My body ache made me realised that my epilepsy had relapse, and so did the nurse. I could recollect being taken to some place on a stretcher and someone holding me so that i did not fall from it.

It was a very tiresome and gruesome wednesday evening of september 2003, the date being not of much importance here. I had neither eaten for the past two days, nor did i sleep. Moreover, the design class had been average for me, for the professor, let's call him AB, shouted, or rather, Sang his hymn for me and i had no option but to face the music! As a result, i was left a bit confused that evening as what should be my next move to please this buzzing hornet AB who was always ready to sting me on my butt!

I remember loading some site on the browser of Rakesh, in his Nehru abode, when i fell into a slumber and then regained consciousness in B C Roy. As soon as i realised i'm in B C Roy, i was shocked beyond all limits. It was not Epilepsy which had me bombed, but the dread of being in the B C Roy building, which was notorious for giving expired medicine to students and giving an intraveinous dose of an intramascular injection! In any case, i had to remain there, as i was too weak to run from there. What i observed was some pain in my right hand. i found a salitube going in my body- i did not need it- but who cared what i needed! The nurse came and administered some dose of Tigretol, a family of drugs given to epilepsy patients. I cursed my fate then, and then started cursing AB. It was solely because of him that epilepsy had relapsed, and i did not deserve that bed number 8.

My parents came and met all the characters in this story, the deans, the head, the faculty advisor aka facad and last but not the least, the concerned prof, who, by now was more concerned about some answer he had to give to my parents. It was then a Warsa pact between them in which it was decided that i had to continue as an epilepsy patient, in his class.

It was outrageous, if the person i thought responsible for messing up my life was let go free in this manner. I asked my father I want to Lodge an FIR against this man who thinks himself to be a Monarch. It'll shredder him in bits and pieces! My father said, in a grave and melancholic tone I never would have done this. But if you want to do this, be my guest, but i'm not with you! I felt shackles binding me. I felt as if i was suffocating in the public inpatient ward of B C Roy. I almost screamed I want that man behind bars! My father did not reply me. His silence was far more stronger than my shout.

As the luck would have it, i flunked in the subject- by some- 4 marks. I called home and spent remaining balance of my cell phone that day crying. The rest of the 3 years went in sulk. I never had a goal in my mind. I never cared to, or better expressed, never dared to look into the bigger picture of life.

The life always has a very large canvas on which she keeps painting something or the other, and the events are just a small patch of colours on this very huge canvas. Some of us see this canvas with a myopic vision, some see the portrait crystal clear, and some, akin to me, are casual enough to ignore this panoramic landscape of life called as goal.

My goal was just to clear Joint Entrance Examination, IIT; and i just had did it in 2001. So what? After this, the road lead to just nowhere! It was a cul de sac for me! something from this cul de sac spurred my life to take a U-turn. This called for a waste of some time, say about a year, and then, i was in mainstream again, live and electrifying!

I now know what is my goal. Now do i see this whole picture more clearly, and now every thing, even the seemingly blot like thing on the canvas now does not look as a blot at all, everything fits into the place! It's as if some masterpiece in the making, and every random stroke seems to be making some sense! And all this i learnt when i was bed ridden after 2 and a half years, in bed number 6, opposite to the bed from which all had started in B C Roy hospital.

This article was about to end here itself, leaving people to guess the rest half of the story, but then someone sitting there thousands of mile away inspired me so that i continue this article and end it more appropriately.

The lady asked about my past, and perhaps the things started to become more clear, the purpose, more visible, and the nitty- gritty, clearer still! (My goal is less important here than the inner details of the matter)

I was shattered after the epileptic seizure. I had no goal to live for, and i had no peace of mind. I used to plan about avenging for my life's misfortune. Then, it all happened that another professor entered into this picture. Noone pointed me this, but i was bound to assume him as my role model. I was highly impressed by his intellect, as well as his humane nature. He once told me, letting someone go relieves you. It's not in my nature to penalise someone for the wrong he did to me. I was ghast, for i thought my father was just an example of anachronism, that he should have been here ages ago. And now, i was hearing the same idea for the second time! There had to be some truth in that, what was it?

Was it that letting go makes your soul lighter than others? At least not in my case! So how did these two people zeroed in on the same concept, and they are happier than me?

The answer struck me when i realised that letting go of someone gives you a chance to concentrate on your goal rather than deviating from it. moreover, it keeps the temper down, and thus again gives a chance to be happier.

Superficially this explanation was complete in itself. And i had been convincing myself that i had forgiven AB for whatever he did.

I realised this time, when i landed up in hospital that to forgive someone, one has to first look into the truth vis- a- vis and subsequently look into the whole "broad picture". And when one is able to do so, he is relieved of all the miseries caused by the truth itself, and he is able to forgive.

I forgave AB on bed number 6, Room number 215, B C Roy Hospital.

The Virtue of Karma

Recently, rather, a few minutes ago, i read some poetry by Susheela, my next door neighbour, who lives at a stone's throw from my Hall of residence. Although i am running short of time this week, and i certainly agree that i still am not fulfilling my duties by finishing off my assignments as i'm writing this blog, but this blog of hers started off my train of thoughts that i could not refrain from scribing the thoughts. Actually she has pressed the button of the machinery without knowing what is there as the outcome!

First, I'll try my best to rephrase her poetry (pardon, sush, for i'm not an artist, so i may not be wise enough to be just enough with your kriti). To be honest, i could not copy and paste her article here, that's why i am re- narrating the whole sequence!

It is after reading her poetry, it clicked to me how this story unfolds into some other legend. So here goes the Story of Ahilya:

It was The Treta Yug, the second aeon according to Hindu Mythology, when common man was intelligent enough and sins were not yet prevalent. Ahilya and her husband Gautam, the sage lived in the woods. Mr. Gautam had a fixed routine of bathing at Dawn and then spending his day praying the dieties. Ahilya, as like sincere women of that time used to manage the household with her full devotion. It was a calm life for them, without any ripples. The couple shared the aura of integrity, honesty and responsibilty.

But however calm the life may be, it always has some checkpoints for us to either succeed and pass through it, or fail there and learn a lesson. As the luck would have it, God Chandra aka Moon happened to pass by their abode, and as he saw Ahilya, he got impressed by her beauty (read "her aura", for beauty is just skin deep) . He started keeping an eye on the couple to find some way to satisfy his want. After spending a few moments he found that he could have his chance only when Gautam went for his daily bath.

That fateful day, Gautam left for his daily bath. Ahilya was winding the bed when Gautam came back, he had forgotten something back home and had returned to get it. Ahilya gave him whatever he wanted, but that day, Ahilya could not resolve his smirk. She was uknown to all what was going around her. and suddenly she saw another Gautam Standing on the door! Then who was he in whose embrace had she been till now!! The real Gautam, in his rage cursed her to become a stone, until Maryada Purushottam touched her.

Ah! So a Lady, though honest was turned into a mannequin! comment some on this story. But i have a different viewpoint, so here goes my analysis:

Ahilya no doubt was Honest and undoubtedly truthful, but what she lacked was the insight. The quality of differentiating the true from the imitation. She was not punished for her deed, in my point of view, she paid for her ignorance. Who says Ignorance is Bliss?

The Sage, he had his spiritual powers reduced by the curse he bestowed on Ahilya. So he learnt that Anger was indeed futile.

As for the Deity Chandra, the mass still remembers his deed! What a disgrace.

What Susheela wrote was the plea of a statue, a rock.

My question had been the same hitherto "Why me, O GOD! relieve me of this misery!" until i heard this second legend.

A prologue before i start this legend, that i forgot when did all this happen, perhaps it was Treta Yug, again!Since i don't remember the aeon, so i will start it in "Once Upon A Time" manner. Anyways, here it goes:

Once upon a time, there was a great Sage, who alongwith his wife and two children lived on the outskirts of a town, in fringes of a woody area. He was famous for his strong belief in Karma. He and his family went from door to door to collect some eatables. At the end of the day, they would consume half of whatever they collected and rest half of it for yajna (The sacred offering). The Yajna was famous for the Karma-phal (the resultant of Karma) it generated. The monthly yajna was famous even between various Deities and they too used to come to attend it.

As like other times, the Yajna had come to a successful end and everybody had parted. This family was about to dine, when they heard

"Kuchh khane ko milega, ya sab khatm ho chuka?"

Won't I get something to eat, or is it over?

It was Durvasa (The incarnation of Lord Shiva, whose bouts of anger had a history). Thankfully, the family hadn't yet started, so they invited him in, and the Sage served Durvasa his share of dinner. The food was nice, and Durvasa was hungry. He quickly ate all of it and asked for seconds. The husband did not have to tell, the wife came forward and now she too offered him her share. It was a worry for the husband that the wife will have to remain hungry for the whole day, but there was more to come. Durvasa still was hungry as ever. So eventually the children too gave him their share without any hassle, and that sufficed Durvasa. He left after that. That day, the family had to sleep hungry.

And then, it had become a monthly routine that Durvasa would come when everyone had left after the Yajna, and he would eat all the food left, as a consequence of which the family would starve for the whole day.

Indra (The king of all deities) was monitoring this and was deeply impressed with this sage. So he ordered his two of his servants to invite this sage to heaven at any cost whatever it may be.

So, both the servants appeared before the sage and asked him to come along with them to the Heaven, as he now deserved to be in.

The sage asked Could you please define what is Swarg (Heaven)?

Everybody knows the difference between Heaven and Hell, and you too are aware of that, Oh wise one! the messengers replied.

But I want to know in definite terms what is a Heaven?

A heaven is a place where you get all the facilities which anyone can just imagine of, in this material world! replied the messengers.

I understand! So there must be in some what that one has to pay some price for such amenities?

Yes, certainly! You pay there in terms of your karma- phal.

Is it then, that my karma- phal gets depreciated as a price for those faciliities?

Yes Sire! You are true enough.

What happens when my karma- phal depreciates?

You are born again, we won't lie to you, Sire, but this is called as the cycle of life and death.

Is there any upper threshold of Karma- phal to get into this heaven, and what happens, when a mortal crosses that upper bound?

There is an Upper limit! and when a mortal crosses it, he then is able to come out of this infinite cycle of life. This is how the affairs are. So, may we take you with us? Lord Indra awaits for you there!

I refuse to leave this material place, for I never wanted anything else than The pleasure of achievement after the struggle, which is karma. I never yearned for material pleasure. You people may leave, and do convey my regards and pardon to Indra. Smiled The Saint.

Now the question is, how does this story relate to Ahilya? It indeed does relate. The statue of stone is the human intellect which defines a level of it's own. Every thrashing (if it is to be called as this) raises the level. It is the satisfaction of learning which gives the importance to karma. It is the gain of insight into the surroundings which converts a rock back into Ahilya.